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fairyhaos · 1 month

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❖ no such thing as too perfect // jeon wonwoo

wonwoo x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: office au, established relationship, fluff, kinda crack, junhui is the best work bestieTM ever, yn is Dramatic and In Love

warnings: none

notes: this was only meant to be like, 1.2k.... idk what happened but im not apologising. also there are a couple of pov switches which i hope make sense!!

“I think I need to break up with him,” you say, and Junhui blinks around a mouthful of salad.

“Who?” he asks, spraying pieces of feta cheese all over the table, and you wrinkle your nose and brush away a few bits that get too close to you and your bento box. He frowns, and then his eyes widen. “Oh my god, you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo? Why do you need to break up with Jeon Wonwoo?”

You wince as Junhui's loud exclamation rings throughout the office canteen, making several heads turn to look at the two of you.

“Don't yell it so loud—and why are you saying his name in italics?”

“Because this is Jeon Wonwoo,” Junhui emphasises again, shoving salad passionately into his mouth before carrying on talking. “He's the only one of your boyfriends that I've actually ever approved of. Which is crazy, because Soonyoung introduced him to you, and I've never pinned Soonyoung as a guy that knows boyfriend-material guys.”

You reach over and lower Junhui’s fork, preventing him from eating and talking at the same time. “I don't know,” you sigh. “I just… I don't think this is going to work.”

“What did he do?” Junhui asks. His face morphs into a more serious look. “Do I need to murder him for you?”

“No, I— no! Don't murder him!” you say quickly, shaking your head. “He hasn't done anything wrong. It's just. I think I need to break up with him.”

The grave look melts from Junhui's face, and then he frowns. “You need to break up with him… even though he hasn't done anything wrong?”

“Yes.”

Junhui stares at you, mystified, then snatches back his fork to keep eating his salad. “Okay, so you've gone insane. Nice to know.”

You sigh at Junhui's response, rubbing your temples.

Whilst it does sound insane for you to break up with Wonwoo even though he's done nothing wrong, in your eyes, it's actually quite understandable.

Nothing has gone wrong, per se: you've been dating Wonwoo for about ten months now, and everything has been perfect. He's been perfect.

Maybe… a little too perfect.

He's always being so gentle and courteous, silently reading your emotions and knowing exactly how you're feeling at any given moment. He knows what you need before you even know that you need it—giving you little cheek kisses to remind you that you're loved, pushing a chocolate bar into your hand when you're all dizzy and tired, hugging you to sleep when you've had a bad day.

The bento box that you're opening and having for lunch? That was prepared by him too.

Jeon Wonwoo is just so goddamn perfect, and it worries you.

“I don't think I'm good enough for him,” you admit whilst Junhui is busily sipping his water.

It's fascinating how he manages to eat so frantically whilst eating so slowly at the same time, you think idly, as Junhui chokes on the tiny sip he was taking. He sets down the glass, wiping his mouth and blinking at you.

“Sorry, what?”

“Come on, Junhui, do I really have to say it again?” you complain, beginning to open your bento box. “You heard me.”

“Yeah, and I couldn't believe my ears,” he says, tilting his head sideways. “You? Not good enough for him? Please. That's crazy.”

You make a questioning noise. “You just said that he's the only boyfriend of mine that you approved of.”

“Exactly.” Junhui stabbed his fork in your direction, before going back to shovelling leaves into his mouth. “You're perfect for him, and he's perfect for you. I predicted it from the moment you met.”

“I don't know about me being perfect for him, but he really is just too perfect for me,” you whine. “Him and his stupidly warm eyes and that smile… oh, Junhui, he makes me feel like the most beautiful person in this entire universe.” You look down at your bento box, pouting. “Wonwoo's just so perfect.”

Junhui makes a face. “Gross, but okay. I still don't see your point, though. Wonwoo's perfect, and you're both good enough for each other. I don't see why you think you need to break up with him.”

Still looking down at the bento box, you let out a sigh. All of the food is neatly packed away into the separate compartments, and he's even arranged the sesame seeds on your rice into a little heart. It's an awfully goofy but also an awfully Wonwoo thing to do, and you can feel your heart squeezing painfully in your chest, the longer you stare at it.

This is not good. You are far too in love with Wonwoo.

That's what you tell Junhui, and he stares at you with utter disbelief as if you've finally admitted that you really have lost your mind.

“And what makes you think that he's not far too in love with you?” Junhui asks. “You know, one of the reasons that I approve of Wonwoo is because he's just so so in love with you. Like, almost disgustingly in love with you.”

“What?” You blink at him, before shaking your head. “Junhui, no, this is serious. Wonwoo's just so perfect and I'm so in love with him and—and it's actually getting dangerous now. I've literally fallen in love with him.”

Junhui stares at you for a long moment, wondering whether you're actually being serious about all of this.

“That's not a bad thing,” he insists, and then chomps on his salad in frustration. “Y/N, that's not a bad thing at all.”

“Yes it is,” you say, despairingly, looking forlorn as you prop your chin on your hand. “I love him too much. It's gonna—it's gonna get too overwhelming, soon, and then he'll start thinking I'm weird, and he'll distance himself from me, and then we'll break up and I should end this before that happens.”

Junhui shakes his head. “I don't think that's true.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it isn't. He won't break up with you.”

“Not yet.”

Junhui looks away exasperatedly, because you're adamant in wallowing in your despair over having to break up with Wonwoo because “he's too perfect” even while quite happily eating the lunch that Junhui knows Wonwoo probably prepared for you.

It's insane, he thinks, because it's obvious to him that Wonwoo loves you a lot. But he knows you and your negative thinking, and short of Wonwoo walking in here and professing his love to you all by himself, Junhui can't think of anything that could possibly convince you otherwise.

As he looks past your shoulder to the glass doors of the office canteen, however, he blinks.

There's a tall man entering the canteen, his dark hair all fluffy and his glasses-rimmed eyes scanning the area, lips pursed into a look that could almost be described as bored. He has his hands in his coat pockets, wearing the most simple casual fit ever, but he exudes such cold model energy that even Junhui blinks again.

And then he watches as the man catches sight of you and Junhui, and his entire demeanour just softens.

Junhui bites back a grin.

Wow. Maybe he’s, like, actually psychic.

“Wonwoo's here,” he says abruptly, and your head snaps up so fast that he can hear the audible click that sounds in your neck.

“Where?”

Junhui doesn't get to say anything, however, because he sees the moment that your eyes clock the tall man that's striding into the canteen, the light catching the frames of his glasses, and watches as you positively melt, in much the same way that the man had done when he saw you.

He can almost hear every infatuated thought that runs through your mind.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe, once Wonwoo steps close enough to the table that you and Junhui are eating at. His hair is all fluffy and windswept, and you resist the urge to smooth it down with your fingers.

“Hello.” Wonwoo bends down, presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “You weren't answering your phone.”

“Hm? I didn't get any text notifs from you.” You check your phone, trying to turn it on, only for the screen to remain black. “Oh. Is it dead?”

“I suspected as much,” Wonwoo says dryly, but there's a fondness in his voice as he pulls out a power bank from his pocket. “Here.”

Your eyes light up. “Oh, you're a life saver!” You look up at Wonwoo, smiling at the way his eyes look so warm as he gazes down at you. “Thank you.”

Junhui slurps his water loudly.

“Sorry,” he says, sounding not sorry at all when the two of you look over at him. “Don't mind me.”

He's grinning mischievously, for reasons that you cannot fathom, and when he leans forward to peer up at Wonwoo with curious eyes, the mischief in his grin only increases.

“So, Wonwoo, why are you here?”

Wonwoo tilts his head, pushing his glasses up at the same time. “You're Junhui.”

“The one and only,” Junhui says brightly. “I'm Y/N's work bestie. I've heard loads about you.”

You hiss in annoyance, kicking Junhui under the table even as Wonwoo laughs amusedly, placing a hand on your shoulder affectionately.

“Wen Junhui! Why would you say that?”

“Do you talk about me that often?” Wonwoo asks, and his tone is somewhere between genuinely curious and adoring and you kind of just wanna sit there and listen to his voice forever.

“Oh, all the time,” Junhui says, eyes gleaming, and you snap your gaze back to him, exasperated. “Y/N loves you so much. I hear about the extent of it every day.”

Wonwoo looks down at you, raising an eyebrow. “Really?”

You kind of want to deny it, but then that would mean lying to Wonwoo, so you don't.

“Maybe?” you say weakly, cheeks burning as you smile sheepishly up at him. “You're just, uh. Really really lovely. And, um, I kind of love you. A lot.”

Wonwoo laughs, a full and endeared laugh, twinkling with the light of a thousand suns. “I'm glad. Because you're really lovely, and I love you a lot too.”

Your eyes widen, and suddenly it's like it's just you and Wonwoo in the canteen now, him with his hand on your shoulder and those eyes, holding your very soul in place as he just smiles so lovingly and oh God you really do love him.

“Oh,” you say, soft. “Wonwoo…”

Wonwoo just smiles again. “Anyways, I came by to let you know that I'll be finishing work a bit earlier today, so call me when you're done and I'll drive by to pick you up, okay?”

You nod, mute, stunned by the gentlest words of “I love you” that had left Wonwoo's mouth just seconds before.

“It was nice meeting you,” Junhui chirps, but Wonwoo doesn't seem to hear, because he's looking down at you again, before swooping in and placing the lightest kiss on your nose and you feel like you could combust on the spot right there.

“I'll see you later?” he says.

You nod. “I'll see you later.”

Wonwoo smiles, and then the hand slides off your shoulder and he walks away.

You watch him go, watch him walk through the tables and then get to the glass doors, where he turns around one last time to wave goodbye before disappearing outside, and really, it's insane how much you love him.

And how much he loves you, it seems.

“So. He took time out of his own lunch break and came all the way here to give you a charger because he knew that you'd forgotten one and to tell you that he's picking you up later?” Junhui says, making you reluctantly turn back to him. “Y/N. If this doesn’t make you see just how in love with you Wonwoo is, then I’m gonna kick you.”

“Hey, no need for violence,” you say, raising an eyebrow, and Junhui pulls a face.

“So do you see it or do you not?”

You look over your shoulder again, out at the doors. Wonwoo’s no longer there, but you can still imagine the imprint of his warmth, lingering like the softest lavender scent over the entire area.

“Maybe I do,” you say, all wistful and dazed, a smile on your face. “Isn’t he just so perfect?”

Junhui grins, and makes use of your distracted state to steal a carrot stick from your lunch, crunching on it loudly.

“Perfect and in love with you,” he points out. “So do you still feel like you need to break up with him?”

“Hm?”

You blink, eyes still all starry from your few minutes of interacting with your boyfriend, his soft smile etched into your mind. It takes a moment for Junhui's words to register, but then they do, and you can't help but laugh.

“Oh. Oh, no. He and I are perfect.”

Junhui grins. He really is a psychic.

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @bunnyiix @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @thedensworld @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @sakufilms @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @amxlia-stars @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect

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boowritess · 1 month

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bonus part 2

simon can't cook-

okay no he CAN. okay? but it's very much- chop up whatever the fuck is in the fridge throw it in a pot, add as much meat he can find. then he's sorted. creating some sort of stew. but if not that. he thrives off 2 minute noodles.

listen, he's a working man. he can't be fucked thinking about what to make.

and if he needs to eat while not deployed and wants something, he'll get takeaways so he doesn't have to think about it.

and if ya'll are together - whatever you make... motherfucker eats that shit up like he's in a 5-star fucking reasturant.

you made scrambled eggs with bacon??? he's astounded. absolutely in love. has never been more satisfied in his life.

but oh lord. when he retires..

retired!simon fucking riley finds his fucking calling in cooking.

you no longer have to worry about cooking. nah-uh. not with this man who has all the time in the world to hone in on this new culinary world.

idk i just think it's so cute to think about simon going from beans on toast for breakfast to fluffy buttermilk pancakes or french toast with bacon a berry compote.

then for dinner; it's suddenly a whole line of sushi with all your favourites, dumplings to follow and a beef udon recipe dish. or maybe it's a simple roast - however, a perfectly seasoned meat has been sitting for a while in the oven for so long that when you cut into it, it's juicy and tender. and simon fucking beams at the faces you make.

dessert is a whole other game that simon fucking mastered. seriously. because he's placing down a skillet brownie, topped with ice cream and cream. And when you put a spoon into it, it fucking drips with chocolate ya'll.

just rahhhh retired!simon that turns into chef!simon. who just spoils you day and night with food. who gains the ability to make whatever dish you want, whenever you want. 3am and you want a grilled cheese? he can whip it up in seconds and it'll taste like the most gourmet grilled cheese you have EVER had.

btw, i'm torn between making him a gordon ramsay in the kitchen or him being the complete opposite and being so sweet and patient with you when you want to help him.

WAIT- speaks like gordon ramsay but treats you softly. like, you're not cutting with the knife correctly you fucking donkey. but instead of taking it off you, he presses up behind you, gently cups your hands with his and shows you how to do it safely. and he's speaking so sweetly and softly. a stark contrast to when he called you a fucking donkey - but hey you'll get your bite back. ;)

a/n: i can't fucking breathe this was so funny to write. i'm sorry idk why he called u a donkey. i'm fucking hungry if it wasn't obvious with this post.

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mattslolita · 14 days

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melting - m. sturniolo

in which ... a period scare happens in the middle of the night, and matt takes care of you. boyfriend!matt x black!fem reader

warnings ; mentions of menstrual cycle , crying , fluff

"𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒉𝒐𝒘, 𝒊 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ

a horrible sickness had fallen over you when you woke up in the middle of the night, as you clutched your stomach. a low wail came from your mouth as tears pricked at your eyes from the cramping sensation that spread throughout your lower abdomen.

as you wiped away stray tears, you noticed your boyfriend shifting beside you, and you gasped lowly trying not to wake him.

an almost barely wet substance could be felt in your underwear and your nose scrunched in discomfort — when you pulled the sheets back, your eyes widen and you gasped.

a medium red stain had found its way right under the same spot you had slept in, and tears spilled from your eyes as you seen it. visions of your ex boyfriend filled your mind.

"i-i'm so sorry, i didn't-"

"i don't wanna hear it, you're fucking disgusting!"

"i can't control it, it's-"

"yes the fuck you can, and you will! get the fuck out, y/n."

sobs began to escape your throat as you clasped your hand over your mouth, causing matt to stir in his sleep once again.

upon hearing your soft cries, his head perked up immediately, turning his body around with a concerned expression as his eyes had fallen on your crestfallen state.

"m-matt, i'm so sorry..."

"baby? what's-"

before he could finish a shaky finger pointed out the red stain on his sheets — his eyes widen at first but he immediately looks back to you to see your hands covering your face, but then one hand reaches down to hold your stomach.

"you're so mad at me, i'm so sorry..."

"baby, sh, you're okay," matt quickly soothes you, hurriedly getting up and out of bed and going over to your side. "come here, beautiful."

sobs still escaping your lips, matt carefully guides you away from the bed and into the bathroom which was attached to his room — he stops you in front of the sink, gently grabbing your chin to look up at him.

"calm down love, okay?" matt asks you softly, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, "i want you to get undressed and i'll run you a bath. soak in there for a while and I'll change the sheets and when you're done, we can watch a movie and cuddle. deal?"

"okay..." you agree, wiping at your eyes as you plant a soft kiss to his lips, "thank you."

"no problem sweetheart," matt smiles softly, helping you take your clothes off.

shy under his gaze, you lift your arms when he takes your shirt off for you as well as the rest of your clothing — he quickly goes to turn the bathtub on and put the drainer inside, carefully helping you inside.

right when you eased yourself into the water the warm substance relaxes your muscles as matt is quick to leave the bathroom almost slipping in the process.

knowing your hair could get messed up, matt grabs a stray cloth band off of the counter and gathers your braids in his hand, putting it in a bun likes he's watched you do plenty of times, causing a smile to grace your lips as he pecks your cheeks then rushes out the bathroom.

you could hear shuffling outside the door, as you look out while you let the water fill up in the tub. you see matt pacing back and forth, causing you to giggle.

he comes back into the doorway of the bathroom holding multiple items in his hand, and you widen your eyes slightly.

"s-so i got both the pads and tampons cause i'm not sure which one you wanted to use then i popped us some popcorn, cheese like you like then um i got some oreos too cause i know you like chocolate on your period then i also got the breakfast club for the movie, is that okay?" matt rambles.

you giggled slightly. "it's perfect, matt. thank you."

"of course, baby," matt smiles at you, about to leave again, "now i just need to-"

"hey matt?" you say to him, causing him to stop and look at you.

"yes?"

"i love you," you tell him softly, a smile tugging at your lips as you look up at the boy.

he smiles at you gently. "i love you most, y/n."

lil💌

haiiii i was gonna make this a little longer but got lazy sorry☹ hope you guys like it <3

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @prettiest-poision @mattsturniolosleftnut @mrssturnioloo @guccifrog @junnniiieee07 @astrowh0r3 @v33angel @ilovechrissturniolo1 @e1ias3 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @eyeliketoeatpoosay @sturn777 @stasiesturn @prettypinkprincess15 @breeloveschris @summerssover @mayhem-72 @riasturns @chrissturniolossidehoe @moonk1ss3d @v33angel @h3arts4harry @stargirll567 @bitchydragonparadise @heartsforchrisandmatt @pepsienthusiasts @tillies33ssss @thenickgirl @sturnprime @summerssover @k4di333

#the sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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luveline · 3 months

Note

dad!steve eek!!! maybe some for kbd!? no rush, anyway love you!! <3

kisses before dinner au —mom!reader, 1.1k

Bethie squirms uncomfortably in your lap. “I’m sorry, mommy,” she says.

“Well don’t be,” you say, hand to her forehead and holding her back so she can see your face, how you’re not angry. “It’s okay. You don’t like it?”

“I’m not hungry.”

You don’t get it. Bethie hasn’t eaten anything all day. She refused breakfast, snacks, smoothies, and hot chocolate. The plate in front of her repulses her, no matter how gently you plead with her to try it. “Honey, I don’t see how that can be true.”

She’s in your lap because you’d been hoping helping her eat might make it easier for her. She was thrilled to sit in your lap, but not even slightly inclined to eat her mac and cheese, or any sides. You offer her a slim carrot baton shining with honey, wiggling it from side to side.

“Doesn’t that look yummy?” you ask softly.

She looks down at her hands.

You drop the carrot. You’re genuinely perturbed. Not easily panicked, this has thrown you off kilter. Beth has been picky ever since she started school, and you don’t mind, you’ll accommodate and feel sorry that she misses out on Steve’s chicken pot pie, but there’s a difference between being picky and having a total aversion to food she used to enjoy.

Avery tries to pretend she’s not watching. Steve doesn’t bother, frowning deeply despite the baby in the high chair beside him and Dove on his thigh, the two girls giggling about something. The rest of them have cheeks covered in cheese sauce and sticky lips, but your Beth…

Maybe it’s too much to have everyone watching, you think.

“Okay. Okay, let’s leave it for later, yeah? Will you help mommy with something? Is that okay?”

Beth nods emphatically. “Yes!”

You help her down off of your lap and take her little hand. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

Steve shakes his head, at a loss. “Sure,” he says, though his face says something different. What are we going to do? “Take your drink.”

You grab the glass if only to appease your worrier.

You and Beth leave the kitchen and the living room to sit on the stairs. There isn’t much privacy to be made in the house, but this will do. You put her on the step above you to sit eye to eye, and you take her little hand, rubbing circles slowly into the soft palm of it.

“Is there something mommy can get you?” you whisper. “Anything at all. Because you’re so big now, you know you need to keep yourself nice and strong with dinner. Yeah? You need to eat so you can have lots of energy. I know,” —you smile at her startled frown— “you said you’re not hungry, but it’s okay. We don’t have to eat all of something. Me and you could go have McDonald’s, or pizza! We could have something special. We could go get donuts. Anything you want, even if it’s only one bite.”

“I don’t know, mom…”

“Anything you want, baby. Even if we get there and you don’t want it anymore, or it’s not what you thought.”

Bethie decides in whispers that she’d like McDonald’s ice cream. You could cry. You almost do when you con her into eating half of ‘your’ cheeseburger on the drive home, her little feet swinging in the footwell as she licks ketchup off of her fingers.

You show Steve the wrapper when you get home proudly.

“Good job, mom,” Steve says, reaching for you in the doorway.

Bethie brandishes the cup tray of ice creams to her sisters in delight. They scramble in screeches to get there first.

“Wren!” Bethie cheers, wiggling an ice cream at her baby sister where she lays in a bouncer. “Mom, can I feed Wren?”

“Only the plain one, baby.”

“Yeah, I know. Wren, look! I have ice cream. You want ice cream?”

“Little spoonfuls,” Avery says, reaching for her own ice cream, big sister instincts quelled by excitement. “Oh my gosh, there’s fudge.”

Steve nudges your hip with his hand. “Hey, you okay?”

“That was a bit scary.”

“It’s just a bad day for her. She’s okay. Did you eat anything?” he asks, curling an arm behind your back.

“No. I got you a strawberry-kiwi smoothie, though.”

“Anything for yourself?”

You shake your head. “I knew Beth would only eat if I was eating it, so I had a bite.”

“You’re a genius,” he says, hugging you to his side. His shirt smells like detergent under your nose. “I kept your dinner in the oven. Only take a minute to heat back up.”

“Did you eat yours?”

He puts his lips to your cheek and doesn’t answer.

“This is nice,” you murmur.

“I know.” He rubs your back. You’ve never had to ask him to do it, he just grabs you up and sets about soothing an ache you don’t have. He’s always been like this.

“I can’t believe I had to sweet talk my six year old into eating fast food,” you say, watching Beth over the curve of his shoulder. She swallows a spoonful of ice cream and crinkles her eyes at the cold. “I never could’ve imagined this.”

“Thank god. You never would’ve let me date you if you did.”

You laugh and angle your head up for a kiss. “That’s not true,” you murmur.

He kisses you but seems more eager for a hug, hooking his arm higher up behind your back and cuddling you into his neck. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do,” he confesses, “but if you keep being that gentle? She’s going to be fine.”

You brim with a weird pride. Steve knows intimately the kind of parent that you are, and how hard you try, so if he thinks you’re doing a good job, you must be. “Dinner was great,” you promise.

Steve laughs. “I know. It was fucking bomb. Honey roasted broccoli? These kids don’t get how good I am. I could go pro.”

Dove wanders over with clumsy footsteps but better pronunciation. “Smoothie, daddy,” she says, holding his pink smoothie up to him with an urgent look.

“Oh, thank you.” He pats your arm and breaks away to bend down. “Thank you, gorgeous,” he says, taking the drink and smiling huge at her. She says something in garbled kid talk and leans in to give him a hug, and then she runs back to her ice cream.

Steve looks at you adoringly.

“How’d you give me four perfect girls?” he asks, knowing he’s cheesy, his smile turning teasing.

“A lot of hard work.”

“I can tell.”

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mydearesthrry · 28 days

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baby honey - h.s.

a/n: long time no talk! ive had this in my drafts for the longest but didnt know how to finish it. it has a bad ending anyway but its seriously been collecting dust. i missed u guys sorry i disappeared lol. enjoy!!!!

wc: 1.9k

cw: nothing just fluff

*part of the honeyed moments universe! parts one and two here! ❤️*

“Okay Daisy baby, say cheese!” YN grinned, holding her film camera up to her right eye to snap a picture of her precious daughter surrounded by a mountain of different sized presents.

Today was Daisy’s sixth birthday, which Harry and YN basically made a national holiday. It was the day their perfect little girl was born, bringing nothing but love and light into their lives– how could they not go all out?

Harry was out getting breakfast– per the birthday girl’s request. She’d wanted pink french toast, pancakes, and pink eggs, which had Harry dashing out to the store to get food coloring and pancake mix. They were having a small get together with a couple of friends that Daisy had made back in London, as well as YN and Harry’s closest relatives and friends. It was princess themed, to no one’s surprise, and all of her aunt’s and uncle’s were assigned a princess or prince to dress up as.

YN and Harry were assigned to dress up as Rapunzel and Flynn Rider from Daisy’s favorite movie Tangled, while Daisy chose to toddle around in a dress that had all the famous Disney princesses on it, the skirt part of the dress covered in pink sparkly ruffles that left a trail of glitter wherever she went. YN could cry right now thinking of all the mess she’d have to clean up following this party, but the wide grin on her daughter’s face made every speck of glitter worth it.

“Mommy, y’have to get Bear in the picture!” Daisy whines, catching the attention of the puppy in the corner. Now, Y/N uses the word puppy very lightly, seeing as said puppy was as tall as her hip just standing on all fours. Y/N sighs, but calls the dog over anyway.

“Bear, come here baby,” She calls to the chocolate lab. “Good boy, okay, now sit riiiiiight here.” Daisy’s smile had grown exponentially, if it was even possible. She leaned forward a bit to place a soft hand on the top of Bear’s head, petting it softly and treating her furry best friend with the utmost delicacy.

Harry had walked in during their mini photoshoot, dropping the bags silently next to him as he leaned against a pillar that separated their dining room from the living room. He watched with a fond smile at his tiny family, his daughter in her ‘perfect princess dress’, his wife on her knees with a wide smile, a film camera held tightly in her hands, and his dog laying at his daughter's feet. He watched on, not wanting to disturb the domestic moment, though his attempt was interrupted when his perfect little Daisy caught a glimpse of him in the entryway.

“Hi Daddy!” She squealed, gaining the attention of Bear who got up to greet his dad. Harry leaned down and greeted his puppy back, scratches soothing the pup as flashes of white from his nails played hide and seek with the brown fur.

“Hello, birthday princess!” He grinned, squatting down to greet his daughter who was already running toward him at full speed. Her dress flowed behind her, glitter literally getting everywhere. Harry snorted at the grimace his wife was wearing on her features, a soft groan coming from him when Daisy had connected with his chest harshly.

“Are we makin’ pancakes, Daddy?” Oh, bless her sweet little heart. A pout was on Harry’s lips when she pulled back, his hands remaining on her back in an effort to keep his growing baby close to him.

“Of course, baby. Gotta go get everythin’ set up, though. Can y’go get washed up so we can start? ‘S gonna take me a mo’ and ‘M gonna have Mama help me.” He makes a deal with his baby, nodding while talking, Daisy mimicking his nods.

“Yes Daddy, be right back!” She zips away, running toward her bedroom with Bear in tow. Harry stands from his crouched position, walking over to meet his wife who was sat in the middle of the living room, turned to where Harry and Daisy once were.

“Hi,” He greets, sitting down on his bum in front of her, kissing her sweetly. “Got everythin’ y’wanted, Mama.”

“Mm, thank you, H. Ready t’tell our little big girl that she’s gonna be a big sister?” She whispers through a big smile, voice hushed to keep the secret as safe as possible from her daughter’s ears, even though she was out of earshot.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, my sweet Honey.” He grins, standing up out of his sitting position and offering his hands to his wife, who takes them with zero hesitation.

The two work like a well oiled machine, dancing around each other and never once accidentally bumping into each other as they prepare everything to make Daisy’s dream breakfast. They’re just about done when Daisy comes back into the kitchen, making her presence known when she knocks into the back of Harry’s legs, wrapping her tiny arms around the full of his thigh. She hangs on and giggles when he turns her around to have her sit on his foot, continuing the work with his baby wrapped on his leg like a koala bear.

Y/N has a bittersweet smile on her face, knowing this was gonna be one of the last times that was blissfully theirs, the three of them (with the exception of Bear) together before the new baby came. She felt herself getting emotional by the thought, pushing away the fact that she had yet another 6 months to wait, trying to soak in the moment even though there were gonna be more to come in the next few months.

The space is filled with loud laughter, sweet kisses, and tiny barks as they meander around the kitchen, Daisy assisting like a proper angel whenever asked. She’d gotten comfortable on the kitchen counter while her parents cooked her pink breakfast, the small speaker that was next to her blasting the Tangled soundtrack.

“Okay Peanut… I think we’re all done!” Harry said finally, plating the last of the pink pancakes and turning to his daughter who had an excited gleam in her green eyes that matched her fathers.

“Yay!” She squealed, holding her hands out for Harry to grab her. He walked up and wrapped his arms around her, twirling around when she grabbed on, filling the air with laughter.

The family walked over to the dining room, plates in YN and Harry’s hands, a jug of apple juice in Daisy’s tiny arms. They all sit around the table, two chairs on the long sides of the brown spruce table, with two fancier chairs on the narrower end parts. YN and Harry place the pink plates in the center, YN moving the vase of purple and pink peonies bought specifically for the birthday princess to the small table that held their vinyls and record player. Daisy hands the half full jug to her dad, hugging his thigh tightly before skipping to her spot on the opposite side of Harry. YN grabs the seat next to her, plopping down into the chair and turning toward her daughter, brushing her dark unruly curls back out of her face.

Settling in her chair, Daisy grins widely and shimmies in her chair in a small dance, her parents cooing and settling in their chairs as well. Breakfast goes off without a hitch, the tiny family conversing about the princess’ upcoming party. Daisy holds her tiny plastic fork in her hand as she gesticulates with her hands as she talks. Her parents have always been patient with her and let her vocalize whatever was on her mind at any point of the day, not scolding her if she even came into their room at the early hours of the morning to excitedly tell them about the dream she had. After all, she was their little miracle, and they’d do whatever it took to make her happy.

Harry and YN shared a knowing look as they approached the end of breakfast. Daisy’s princess sippy cup was almost empty, and her plate was cleared. YN clears her throat, making Daisy turn her attention to her mom. “Baby, we have something to tell you.”

Daisy tilts her head in childlike wonder, a confused expression on her face, her eyebrows furrowed and turned in toward each other. “Wha’ s’it, Mama?”

YN smiles as she reaches down between her and Harry, a tiny gift bag sitting on the floor between their chairs. Grabbing it and placing it in front of Daisy, Y/N giggles at the gasp her daughter lets out.

“A present? Already?!” Daisy squeals, grabbing the paper bag and placing it onto her lap, eagerly pulling the ribbon that held the straps shut.

“Ah- hold on, Dais,” Harry says, Daisy complying instantly. “Before y’open it, Mama and I wanna say that we love you, and want you to know that you’ll always be our sweet little girl, okay?”

Daisy tilted her head to the side, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, looking like an exact replica of her father. “Oh, um— I love you too, Daddy, and you, Mama.”

“I love you too, Dais. Okay, you can open it now.” Y/N approves, phone hidden against her chest, now recording her daughter.

“A baby doll! Oh my goodness!” Daisy squealed, holding up the box about 2 inches from her face. “Thank you Mama! Thank you Daddy!”

“Wait, peanut,” Harry started, reaching into the bag and pulling out another box, which had another doll similar to the baby. “Look! It’s a big sister for the baby doll! It’s like you, tiny!”

“Huh?” She said confusedly. “But I’m not a big sister.”

“Yes you are, Daisy girl. Or… you will be, soon at least.” Y/N grinned, not being able to contain her smile at this point.

“Wait…” Daisy collected her tiny thoughts as she tried to connect the dots, before her eyes brightened when she realized what her mother was saying. “Baby?!”

“Yeah, Dais. Mumma’s havin’ a baby!” Harry exclaimed, toothy smiles and dimples out.

“Oh my goodness!” Daisy gasps, jumping haphazardly out of her chair. “Mumma!”

“Oh, careful, sweet girl!” Y/N giggles, scooting her chair out to prop her daughter on her lap comfortably.

“Y’really havin’ a baby?!” She squawked, frantic eyes drifting between her parents.

“Yeah, peanut, we are!” Harry giggled, ruffling his daughters hair.

“This is the best present ever!” She squealed, aggressively wrapping her arms around her mother’s neck. “Thank you, Mommy, and Daddy.”

Y/N placed a hand on the back of Daisy’s head, a big pout on her lips as she turned her head to look at Harry, who matched her expression with a similar frown.

“My sweet Daisy girl, you’re so welcome. Gonna be the best big sister ever, hm?” Y/N whispered, pecking small kisses onto her head.

“The best, I promise!”

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurb #harry edward styles #dad!harry

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avatar-anna · 7 months

Text

Picnic

Part of the florist!reader universe: part one, part two, bonus

You looked down at the sleeping form in your lap, fingers tracing delicately over sun-warmed skin. Harry’s eyes were closed, his long hair curling around his cheeks and temples. This close to him, you could see the eyeliner from last night he still hadn’t managed to wipe off smudged around his eyes. He looked calm, peaceful. So unlike the broody rock singer you’d come to know.

It came as a surprise to you when Harry fell asleep on your lap. Today was the first time in a while where you and Harry were able to spend some time alone together. Between your busy schedules and him having to care for his goddaughter often, there wasn’t much time left for just the two of you. You didn’t mind, of course, you loved spending time with Lucy and seeing Harry perform at his gigs, but you liked these stolen moments too.

And Harry could be so private sometimes, so quiet about his feelings. You knew he never meant anything by it, but he definitely held back when it came to physical affection. You respected his boundaries when it came to affection, but it was nice to see him take initiative, to know he felt comfortable enough to rest his head in your lap and sleep for a while.

You invited Harry to your little cottage for a midday picnic. He’d been busier lately, writing new music and taking care of Lucy, so you thought it would be a good idea to do something stress-free and simple—a small picnic in the field behind your house. You set up your soft blanket—the one you crocheted a couple years ago—under a tree, not wanting to completely bake under the sun. There was fresh bread, cheese, juice, and chocolates packed up in your basket to snack on; you used to picnic by yourself often, but you could get used to having company under the tree behind your house.

Ever so delicately, the pads of your fingers traced the angular planes of your boyfriend’s face—the bridge of his nose, his sharp cheekbones, all the way up to his hair so you could run your fingers through it. It was soft and silky, a sign that he took good care of it. Harry’s music and stage presence was on the grungier side with his chipped nails, ripped jeans and smudgy eyeliner, but he had very good hygiene. He even had his own detailed skincare routine (though you were pretty sure that his goddaughter was behind that).

Harry’s chest rose and fell heavily as he continued dozing, his nose slightly pinched with red from being in the sun for a couple hours. He looked so serene. Like an angel, you thought. Sun-dappled skin, a smattering of freckles, and eyelashes that curled perfectly and graced the tops of his cheekbones. Leaning down, you pecked Harry’s forehead, his skin warm. Your thumb brushed over the spot you kissed affectionately.

You left Harry alone for a while, reaching for the book you brought and read it as your hand continued to card through his hair. It was the perfect moment, and you weren’t sure it couldn’t get any better.

As you read, however, you spotted the small bouquet of wildflowers you picked as you and Harry walked out to this spot. Unable to help yourself, you set your book down and nabbed a couple flowers. You pulled off the stems one by one, nestling them into Harry’s hair as he continued to sleep, completely unaware.

By the time Harry blinked his eyes open, little wild daisies covered his hair. He squinted up at you, eyes still bleary with sleep.

“Morning, sunshine,” you said.

Harry’s nose scrunched up. “How long have I been asleep?”

“Maybe an hour?”

“Oh. Sorry. Was supposed to spend the afternoon with you,” he said. He began to sit up, but before he could, you put a gentle hand on his chest.

“Wait! You look so cute, let me take a picture,” you said, quickly looking around for your phone.

Harry grumbled, but stayed put like you asked. You were pretty sure he was saying something about not being cute, but the way he rubbed at his eyes made you want to pinch his cheek.

Not wanting to move him quite yet, but also wanting to be closer to him, you set your phone down. Harry met your gaze curiously, patiently waiting for you to speak. He did that often, letting a comfortable silence grow between you until you gathered your thoughts enough to say what was on your mind. And when you did, he mostly just listened, though you never got the feeling that he was ignoring you. “Sorry, you don’t have to listen to me ramble,” you found yourself saying once. But Harry simply shook his head, a small smile on his face. “You don’t have to apologize. I like listening to you.” And that was that.

“Can I join you?” you eventually asked him.

“Course. You don’t have to ask.”

Grinning, you shuffled until you were laying beside him on the blanket. You rested your cheek against his chest, which was warm from being in the sun for so long. You weren’t sure how he was able to stand the heat in all black, but you rarely saw Harry in anything else. It was always funny to you because he came off so cold and grumpy, but he was the biggest softie there was. He might’ve had tattoos running up and down his arms and on his neck, and his nails might have been painted black, but only because his goddaughter painted them while they played “spa.”

Your hand reached below his shirt, running the pads of your fingers along his skin gently. Harry’s stomach tensed beneath your fingers, but only a little. He hummed and settled deeper into the blanket, almost leaning into your touch. Scooting up until your face was in the crook of his neck, you began to pepper his skin with kisses. Your lips sponged against his skin gently; no nipping or pressing particularly hard, you just wanted to feel him.

“This is nice,” Harry murmured, his hand coming up to rub your back gently.

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy,” you replied, not moving away from him.

“Try me.”

You took your time answering, preferring to just kiss his neck some more. From the curve of his jaw all the way down to the base of his throat, you kissed him, smiling when his breath hitched in certain places. Stoic as he was, you’d come to learn all of the little places that made Harry gasp and groan and arch. It was a treasure hunt you were happy to go on.

“Sometimes I just want to kiss you. Like all over. And I don’t necessarily want anything out of it, I just…want to kiss you until I can’t breathe. Is that weird?”

“I don’t think it’s weird,” he said. His eyes were closed as he spoke, but he suddenly tilted his head toward you, and you found yourself staring right into his eyes. His gaze was still a little sleepy, though they squinted the tiniest bit with mischief. “There are parts of me that are feeling a little left out, though.”

Harry ran a hand through your hair, his lips curving up into a smile as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

You knew that look. It was the one that always made you feel like you and Harry were on an even playing field. You were definitely more expressive than he was, which meant you vocalized and showed how much you liked him more than he did. You knew he cared for you, he just expressed himself differently than you did, which you were fine with. Harry often cooked for you, he always held your hand if you were on a date, he texted you first thing in the morning and right before you went to sleep—even when you had just been on the phone with him for hours—because you mentioned that your last boyfriend never did, and one time you caught a glimpse of his phone and saw that there were three heart emojis next to your name, even though you knew he didn't really use or like them.

But it was this look, the one he made just before he was about to kiss you, that brought you the most peace of mind, except for the excitement at what a kiss from Harry might lead to. To you, that look said it all. You felt it right down to your toes. I’m so in love with you, he seemed to say. At least that was how you interpreted it. You hoped that was how he read the look on your face.

Harry leaned in, and you were right there to meet him. His curly hair tickled your nose and chin, but the sensation was nothing compared to how his lips felt on yours. Kissing him felt like magic, like the first day of spring. It was true that Harry didn’t always express how he felt about you verbally, but when he kissed you, there was no doubt in your mind. He kissed you like he was desperate or starving, like the rest of the world fell away and you were the only two beings to ever exist. His hand gathered the material of your dress, bunching it at your hip in a tight grip, his tongue caressing your lower lip, eager to feel yours against it. He made you arch into him, wrap your arms around his neck before dipping below his shirt in search of warm skin.

After a few minutes, Harry tried to pull away, suggesting that the two of you head back to your cottage, but you clung to him even tighter, kissing around his jaw until you found the spot that always turned him to mush and sucking on it.

“No? You want me right here?” he asked, his eyes closed as you continued to nip and suck all over his neck. Your lack of response was answer enough for him. Grinning, you pulled him back down over you, and Harry was more than happy to oblige.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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ddejavvu · 2 years

Text

Slumber Party - Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson | part I | part II | part III | part IV

WC: 4.2K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Following Steve's hairbrained scheme, he and Eddie get you to crash at the Harrington House for a slumber party, changing your relationship forever

Contents/Warnings: reader wears steve's shirt and eddie's jacket, confessions, requited love, fluff, cheeky eddie and steve, lots of teasing

A/N: if you're under 18, this is the last part of this series! if you're over 18, there will be one more, pretty much completely smut, that takes place just after this :) you can expect that sometime soon!

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

The trash bag in your hand rustles as you shake air into it. There’s a surprising amount of garbage to clean up after a friends-only pool party, but you suspect some has been there for longer than just tonight.

Like the crushed, stained red solo cup that peeks out from underneath one corner of Steve’s couch.

It crunches under your fingers and you realize it’s sticky, your face scrunching into a grimace, “Steve, when’s the last time you cleaned in here?”

He looks over from where he’s scraping half-dried pizza cheese off of a couch cushion, “Jesus, I think that’s from freshman year.”

“Not even my place is that bad,” Eddie brags, though it hardly works as one.

“I found a chocolate bar cemented into the floor under your bed,” Steve stands tall, an eyebrow raised accusingly at Eddie, “We both have our problems.”

You snicker at their lighthearted banter, “Gross, guys.”

Then they’re whirling on you, and you wish you’d kept your mouth shut.

“Oh,” Eddie gushes, a hand over his heart in a dramatic display, “You never leave empty milkshake cups in my van. You’re soooo clean!”

“Dude,” Steve lets out an incredulous laugh, punching Eddie theatrically in the shoulder, “She leaves ‘em in my car too! I swear there’s like twelve in the backseat, and she doesn’t even sit there.”

“Guys!” You flush, shoulders slouching as they tease you, “You’re both so mean.”

You don’t expect either of the things that happen next. You don’t expect them to share a glance, meaningful in the slight nod that they offer to each other and the raise of their eyebrows. And you definitely don’t expect them to start forward, rushing around you for a tight group hug.

“We’re sorry, honey.” Steve croons, his slightly toned arms winding tight around your waist from behind, his voice soft and sympathetic, “We’re just teasing.”

Eddie’s ringed fingers come to rest on your cheeks, tugging your face inches from his own as he kisses the soft skin of your forehead.

“You can leave allll the trash y’want in the van as long as you keep gettin’ in it, baby.” Eddie promises, his voice a hair raspy

Your head is spinning. Your knees threaten to give out, and you swear that Steve’s hands pull your hips back dangerously close to his clothed cock on purpose. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted all at once, which means that you can’t process any of it at all.

Eddie’s lips linger against your forehead, which means that your view is his neck. There’s a smear of what you think is food coloring from the cookies that you made earlier, staining a spot just below his Adam’s apple. What you don’t see with this view is the glance that Steve and Eddie shoot each other over your head, sly smirks on the both of their faces as you grew more and more flushed under their touch.

“Our little baby,” Eddie glances down, cooing sweetly at you, as his lips hover inches away from your own, “Can’t tease you at all, huh?”

“‘Gets you all uptight…” Steve adds, his voice husky over your shoulder while his hands squeeze at your hips, “You’ve gotta learn to loosen up, honey.”

That does it.

Your knees go weak, and you pull away from them. You slip out from their grasps, the chill that ran up your spine the moment they embraced you now spreading throughout your whole being as your skin hit the air.

“I- I’m gonna go take out the trash,” You hold up the barely-filled trash bag in your hand, brandishing it at them as a half-assed explanation, “Bye!”

How are you supposed to go back in there? Steve had practically dry humped you, Eddie was inches away from kissing you. They’d called you their baby, told you to loosen up. It felt like the beginning of a porno, and yet frustration strikes you as you remind yourself it meant nothing at all.

Steve is the natural boyfriend type. He’s all lovesick smiles, acts of service, and gentle touches. Eddie is outgoing, chock-full of affection that he expresses in less-than-conventional ways. You’re no stranger to cheek kisses from the pair, to late nights in their beds with their shirts on your back, to hands-on-thighs that drift higher than they should.

But god, how much more of this are you able to take? How many more nights can you spend in their beds, tucked into their chests like a real couple? How many more times can Steve’s fingers brush your inner thigh, or Eddie’s hand drift down south during a hug before it’s too much? Before you actually start believing it, before it’s more than just a friendship to you?

Not much more, that’s for sure. Your heart pounds in your chest as you recall their hands on you, and you make your decision. You need to leave, now, before you give yourself away.

“Mission accomplished.” Steve’s grin grows lazily over his face, his hands hanging off of his hips, “She almost fell over.”

“I would’a felt bad,” Eddie admits, remembering the heat radiating off of your cheeks as he cupped them, “I just can’t believe she tricked us for so long.”

“I.. I guess it was hard for her, or something.” Steve’s voice loses some of its cocky luster, “She really fought hard to keep it a secret.”

“Yeah,” Is all that Eddie can murmur as you slip back through the sliding door. The two boys turn to you expectantly, confident grins on their faces that they try to mask as casual.

“Soooo,” Eddie draws out the word, “Harrington and I were thinking it would be kinda fun to have a movie night. You in, sweetheart?”

Steve doesn’t bother letting you answer before he lays it on thicker, “No one made that popcorn we bought for today, so we can have it now, and I’ve still got tapes from the last sleepover we had.”

They wait expectantly, self-assuredness practically oozing from them. But you gnaw the inside of your cheek while they talk, shrinking in on yourself slightly when the offer is proposed.

“Actually, no. Not tonight, guys, I..” You pause, mouth open but devoid of words. You rub a tired hand down your face, “I’m sorry. Just.. not tonight.”

Their faces drop.

For a harrowing moment, they believe they have it wrong. That your blushing was out of embarrassment, not out of longing. That your tensing was because of discomfort and not anticipation. That maybe, just maybe, you don’t like them at all.

“Why not?” Steve gets himself together first, his voice now cautious and soft.

“I don’t feel like it.” You mumble, but both know you’re lying.

“Is there something wrong, Y/N?” Eddie feels strange not using a pet name, but with the guarded look in your eyes, he’s not sure it’s a good idea to go with baby.

“I’m tired from swimming,” You weakly attempt to fool them, but you realize now that the closeness you’re trying to evade is the reason you can’t. They know you inside and out, and you can’t lie to them.

“Me too,” Eddie snickers, “We’ll just crash here tonight.”

“It’ll be a sleepover,” Steve adds, one eyebrow raised hopefully at you, “You sleep here all the time, honey. C’mon, please?”

You need to say no. You need to politely decline, excuse yourself, go home, and face-plant into your pillow. You need to scream, you need to kick your feet, you need to giggle, you need to squeal, you need to call your friends while laying on your stomach on the bed. You need to twirl the cord of the phone around your finger while your legs bounce back and forth in the air behind you. You need to freak out.

“We can watch Grease,” Steve presents his final offer, the one he knows you won’t be able to say no to, holding the vhs up tantalizingly before you.

You take a moment of silence for the willpower you’ve just lost, mourning the end of your sanity and the victory of your delusions, “Okay, I’ll stay.”

The grins on their faces lit up the dark little spot in your brain. The one that told you you aren’t good enough for either of them, let alone both like you fantasize about.

Eddie shoots towards you like a rocket, his arms wrapping around your waist as he tackles you back onto the couch. It rips an incredulous laugh from your throat, one that warms Eddie’s chest and prompts him to kiss your forehead.

“Knew you’d come around, pretty girl,” He coos at you, pinning you to the sofa cushions. His words reignite that flutter in your belly, as does the chill of his jewelry on your bare skin.

“Jesus Eddie,” Steve gripes, his face popping into your view as Eddie hovers over you, “Don’t crush her before the movie even starts.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, an expression that leaves you giggling, and pushes himself up off of you.

“What I’m hearing, Harrington, is that I can crush her after the movie starts.” It seems like both a threat and a promise, and Steve scoffs at Eddie’s cheeky grin.

“Y/N,” Steve peers around Eddie who’s still crowding you against the couch, “You need a change of clothes?”

You glance down at your coverup, the sheer fabric revealing your still-damp bathing suit beneath.

“Yes please,” You really don’t know if you can handle one of Steve’s hoodies that you normally take, nor do you think you’ll be able to slip into a pair of his boxers without losing your mind. Apparently Steve doesn’t have that in mind, though, because he reaches for the hem of his own shirt, yanking it off of his head without a second thought.

His chest is exposed, bare and smattered with hair. The air escapes your lungs and you suck more in, your strangled gasp catching both boys’ attention.

“You okay?” Steve holds the shirt out to you, his chest bared, “You look like you’re about to collapse.”

You are about to collapse. You swear that the shirt hanging limply from Steve’s hand has some sort of forcefield around it; an aura. It makes your knees buckle and Steve has to throw it over your shoulder for it to be in your possession.

You see Eddie opening his mouth, no doubt about to put the pieces together of your little crush, one of them at least, so you scurry off, the shirt nearly falling from your shoulder as you do.

“I’m gonna go change!” It comes out squeaky, higher-pitched than you want it too, but you’re too overwhelmed to care. You rush to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you so hard it nearly breaks the hinges.

“Shit,” Eddie snickers incredulously as the bathroom door shuts behind you, “Good thinking, man. Y’had her frozen.”

“I didn’t think she’d take it,” Steve admits sheepishly, cupping the back of his neck and letting his clean-cut fingernails dig into the skin there, “‘Thought maybe it was going too far.”

“This is going too far,” Eddie urges, plopping down onto the couch with an unceremonious thump, “That’s the point. She’s not gonna do shit on her own, so we gotta-”

“Do you have any pants I could borrow?”

Both men turn to the bathroom with wide eyes, catching your head stuck out of the doorway. The rest of your body is shielded by the door, and each man mourns their own loss of the visual.

“Uh, no clean pairs.” Steve bluffs, scratching his nails over his chest, itching at nothing in particular to draw your eyes to the action, “Sorry, haven’t done laundry in forever.”

“It’s fine.” You come out of the bathroom now, offering him a sweet smile so that he knows you’re not mad at him, “‘S just a little short, that’s all.”

You’re right. When you step out of the bathroom, the shirt shifts over your legs with every step you take. It rides up your thighs, exposing bare skin that neither Steve nor Eddie ever dreamed they’d see of you. Eddie’s the one who pulls out of his trance first, hovering a hand over his waist.

“If you really want me to, I can pull a Harrington and slip outta my boxers. That’s what you normally wear at mine.” He grins cheekily at you, his thumb hooked into the hem of his pants, “Sound good?”

“No!” You shriek indignantly, giggling at the image, “Then you’d be pantsless!”

“And would that really be terrible?” He groans, tipping his head back against the sofa cushions and displaying his throat. The skin stretches thin over his adam’s apple and your eyes trace the bulge in his throat as it bobs, “I think we’d all enjoy that.”

“Speak for yourself,” Steve grumbles, chucking the VHS case for Grease at him, “If your dick ever touches my couch you’re buying me a new one.”

“Oh please,” Eddie starts, fiery and revved up, “Like you wouldn’t be-”

“Guys!” You throw up your hands, looking between the two of them with mock annoyance, “Shut up, the movie’s gonna play!”

And it does. Grainy footage springs to life over the VCR, displaying the opening sequence of Grease that you eagerly paid attention to. You tugged Steve down beside you, sinking into the cushions near Eddie. The latter wriggled closer to you, matching Steve’s distance, which was to say there was no distance between any of you anymore.

Eddie’s thigh presses flat against your bare one, the joggers that he’d used after getting out of the pool baggy and loose against his leg. Steve’s got jeans on, the rough denim flush to your other thigh, as the two sneak their arms around your shoulders.

“Smooth,” You tease them, and Steve even throws you a fake yawn, the classic first date move. You can’t deny the butterflies that stampede through your stomach at the playful flirting, and you wriggle into your seat, getting comfy between them.

One of your hands rests on Steve’s upper thigh, your fingers curled into the loose denim as you watch. Eddie’s head rests on your shoulder, his hair tickling your face as he makes cracks here and there about the film. Both are fun to watch movies with. Eddie jokes the whole time, picking apart terrible production choices and whistling whenever someone looks good on screen. But Steve watches, laughing when he should and biting back a smile when he shouldn’t.

You can’t help but feel, sandwiched between your two best friends, unfortunate crushes brewing for both of them, that this is only the beginning, your beginning. It’s a concept that tugs at your heartstrings, that ignites hope in your chest, because maybe if they’re holding you like this, maybe if they’re loving you like this, they could do it like you want them to. They could hold you more, differently. They could love you more, differently. Everything you have is perfect, and somehow you’re still wanting more, something different.

You aren’t sure you’ll ever be able to get enough of either of the boys beside you. Steve, all soft smiles and sarcastic insults, and Eddie, lively and playful. Each one brings something new to your life, something invigorating that seeps into your brain and gets you hooked like an addict. You’re absolutely certain that your life would never be the same without them, which is what makes you so hesitant to confess.

But here, snuggled up to the both of them with Grease playing on the Harrington’s television in the low light of the living room, you feel safe. You don’t need to confess, you don’t need to pull away to keep yourself safe, you don't need to do anything at all. All you can do is enjoy this, enjoy them.

You hope they feel the same way. You’re always quick to doubt yourself, write off flirty banter as a joke, or assume they’re like that with everyone. But they’re not, you're special and you know it. It’s a fantastic feeling, being special, even more fantastic when you’re special to those that you find special. You decide you quite like the feeling, burrowing back into their embraces to soak in it some more.

“‘Gonna lose you in the couch if you keep that up,” Eddie quips, “Must be pretty cozy.”

“I am,” You admit without hesitation. Perhaps its the exhaustion from swimming, or the haziness seeping into your brain from their warm embraces, but you don’t feel much like hiding anymore, “‘Love you guys.”

Eddie freezes against your shoulder, and Steve tenses. All at once it comes crashing down, their miniscule reactions clearing away your giddiness and confidence in a split second.

You stay silent, your eyes locked onto the screen, your cheeks burning. It’s not the first time you’ve said it to either of them, but it’s the first time you’ve said it now, wrapped up intimately in their embraces. It’s different, and everyone knows it.

“Yeah?” Steve prompts you, “We love you too, honey.”

“Lots.” Eddie adds, shifting his face so that it’s buried in your neck instead of facing the television, “Probably a little too much.”

He punctuates his sentence with a smattering of soft kisses to the soft skin of your neck, ones that run a shiver up your spine.

“Eddie,” You breathe, and he stops hesitantly.

“You want me to stop?”

Everything in you screams no, but you say yes.

You shift away from him, consequently into Steve, and turn to face him. He looks timid, anxiety brewing in his pretty brown eyes.

“What are we?”

It’s a vague question, but it’s thick with meaning. Steve contemplates how to answer, not sure if he wants to lead in with a joke (‘teenagers’), or blurt out his feelings, (‘soulmates’). Eddie does it for him.

“You want us to be together,” Eddie’s voice is soft and meek, nearly scared, “Right?”

“Together…?”

“Together,” Steve finally finds his voice, strong and low in his chest, “Like, for real, Y/N. We know.”

They know. They know. They know.

It runs rampant in your head, a mantra of your humiliation as you sit frozen between them. You’d rather be literally anywhere else, the upside down for fuck’s sake.

“We want it too.” Eddie promises, tentatively reaching out a hand to rest it in your lap, “Shit, I- I thought I was gonna decapitate this Chili guy for getting too close to you.”

“Pineapple was on my shit list.” Steve admits, “Can’t believe it was Munson.”

“Oh, likewise.” Eddie cranes his neck to peer around your head at Steve, “I mean, red hot? I guess in those stupid little scoops shorts…”

“Eddie,” Steve glares sharply at the boy, reaching around the back of your head to smack Eddie upside his, “Focus.”

“Sorry! Sorry,” Eddie grins at you, mirth in his eyes, “But that’s.. That’s what you want, right sweetheart?”

You look at them. You look at Eddie, doe eyes wide and hopeful, hands braced eagerly on your thigh. You look at Steve, uncertainty clouding his gaze, his arm tightening its grip on your shoulders. You look at them, lucky in love, and nod.

“I do, I- I really really want this.”

The admission clears a weight off of your shoulders that’s been there for years, leaving you lighter than air. Your smile grows effortlessly, a soft giggle escaping your mouth as they both surge forwards.

They knock heads, their expressions scrunching from grins to grimaces, and you take each of them by the jaw.

You press a kiss to the side of Steve’s head, where it had run into Eddie’s, then one to his lips. He’s clearly shocked by the gesture, because his eyes widen and he can’t seem to shut them for the entirety of the kiss. You pull back, another giggle escaping you at his incredulous expression.

“Fuck,” He breathes, “I didn’t- I didn’t think you would do that.”

“Well now you’d better do it to me,” Eddie wastes no time in baring his head, tucking his chin to his chest to give you better access to his life-threatening injury, “Kiss!”

You comply as butterflies ravage your tummy, flitting this way and that, their pretty wings brushing the walls of your stomach. You swear there must be thousands as you pop a kiss to Eddie’s messy hair, then let him tug your face to hover in front of his. He practically lunges for you, lips tasting like popcorn you’re sure he snuck while you were in the bathroom.

He’s not as polite as you were with Steve, going back for more each time you think of pulling away. Finally you have to murmur at him, your words muffled by the kiss, “Eddie… Eddie? Eddie!”

“Jesus,” Steve yanks Eddie away by the collar of his shirt, a blush still redenning his cheeks from when you’d kissed him, “Let her breathe, dude.”

Then he seems to realize his loss, scrunching his face up, “His was longer than mine.”

“You went first!” Eddie insists adamantly.

“Not the same,” Steve is the one to pull you in this time, fitting his lips perfectly against your own. As if two kisses hadn’t been enough to turn your stomach inside out, the third had you melting, your hands falling from each of their jaws.

Steve’s just barely pulling away when you feel Eddie’s lips on your cheek, turning to face him and bumping noses. He takes the opportunity to peck your lips once more, and you realize you’re about to be smothered if you don’t take action now.

“Okay,” You giggle giddily, wriggling out from where you’ve sunk into their embrace, “Okay, so, we’re together now?”

“Yes,” Steve nods, his teeth on display as he grins, “That feels nice to hear.”

Eddie nods vigorously, “Even better when you consider we’re alone here for the weekend.”

“Eddie,” You chide, swatting bashfully at him, “So pervy!”

“Oh, come on,” Eddie laughs incredulously, “I mean, it’s not a bad idea!”

“It’s not,” You sigh resentfully, wishing you had the willpower to deny him, “But I wanna finish the movie first!”

“Okay!” Eddie mimics the pattern of your voice, pinching you teasingly in the side, “I can already tell it’s gonna be hard saying no to you.”

“He already doesn’t say no to me.” You gesture to Steve, then press an apologetic kiss to his rosy cheek when he grumbles about it, “Lets me get away with whatever I want, huh Steve?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He gripes, “It’s not my fault you’re too cute to say no to.”

His sappy admission makes you squeal, and it puts a smile on Steve’s face. You catapult onto his chest from across the couch, snuggling your head into his neck while your legs wind around his waist, “You’re so good to me, Steve.”

“‘Course I am,” He puffs up proudly, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I wasn’t?”

Boyfriend. The word, although foreign, feels familiar, something you’ve known for all of your time with him. It describes Eddie perfectly too, who’s scooting across the couch to kiss your nose as your cheek presses against Steve’s chest.

“Alright you two,” Eddie groans, but smiles sweetly at the both of you, a harmless tease, “Let’s actually finish the movie? You can hold her for now, Steve, but I swear to god the second we put another tape in, she’s mine.”

“You’re gonna have to take her from me,” Steve threatens, his arms tightening around your waist as you play along, clinging to him, “I’ve waited for too long not to enjoy this.”

“You can enjoy it until Grease is done.” Eddie warns again, narrowing his eyes at you when you stick your tongue out teasingly at him, “Then you can be the sad, lonely one.”

The words ‘sad’ and ‘lonely’ tug your brows down, and you crane up off of Steve’s chest to pucker your lips at Eddie. He surges forward with a bright smile, kissing you sweetly this time letting you go within a reasonable time.

“Sweet girl,” Eddie coos at you, watching as you snuggle yourself back into Steve’s nack. He leans down himself, bracing his back against the cushions behind him as he tentatively rests his head on Steve’s shoulder, just beside your own, “Are you even watching the movie?”

You can’t see it anymore, now facing away from the tv. But you are facing Eddie, and that’s more than enough to keep you occupied. Steve’s hand brushes slowly, soothingly over your back and your lashes flutter dreamily, Eddie’s grin inches from your own.

“No,” You shake your head slightly, the movement burrowing you further into Steve, “I’d much rather watch you.”

Steve lets out a teasing scoff at your cheesiness, pinching you lightly in the side, “You’re a sap.”

“Shut it, Harrington.” You take on Eddie’s nickname for the man, pushing yourself up onto his chest to glower threateningly at him, “Don’t make me cut your turn short.”

“I’m sorry!” Steve dramatically apologizes, clutching you tight, “I’m sorry, don’t go, I love you.”

The familiar phrase warms your heart, and you settle back onto his chest with a content sigh.

“I love you too,” You respond to Steve while looking at Eddie, both men feeling the overwhelming affection oozing off of you, “More than anything.”

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

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cerisereids · 2 months

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aaron hotchner struggles accepting the love he deserves.

that’s why he shuts down when you move in next door. you, with your flowy dresses and baked goods and shiny lips. he doesn’t dare go near you. how could he, when he has the exact opposite of a midas touch? he wouldn’t even dare to think of putting you in harm’s way, which is why he rejects the brownies you offer him the day after your move in. his heart cracks at the way your face falls, but his legendary poker face has gotten him this far, and it’ll get him out of this, too. or so he thinks.

you show up the next day, and the day after that. soon, his kitchen counter is laden with cookies, cakes, and pies. jack is in heaven, and hotch himself can’t help but indulge. as his teeth sink into the chewy goodness of a chocolate chip cookie, he chastises himself for wondering if your lips taste just as sweet. he imagines kissing you after you taste test one of your treats, maybe licking some frosting off your top lip.

guilt and shame creep up his spine, slithering around his body until his heart is constricted with it. he can’t think like this. not with you. not when you’re so good. you’re so good, and he’s been through so much bad, what if that’s all he is now? why on earth would someone so sweet and beautiful want a divorced widower with a child? it makes no sense to him, so he shakes off any possibility of it even happening. even if the looks you give him from your garden tell him otherwise.

he recalls the times this week he’s seen you out while he’s arriving home from work. the way your eyes would follow up and down his body, how you’d bite your lip as you said hello. the way your gaze lingered on his biceps that were stuffed into his button up is seared into his memory. he normally saves these memories for bed time, or during a cold shower, but you’re taking up his brain capacity at a rapid pace. he’s afraid there’s no pumping the brakes.

one day, after two weeks of you bringing him baked goods and eye fucking him from your yard, you appear on his front doorstep. only this time, there’s not a treat in your hand, but an entire picnic basket.

“hi!” you chirp, your beautiful smile etched onto your face, “sorry to bug, i hope you’re not busy! it’s such a beautiful day outside, i thought it’d be perfect for a picnic, and i’d love some company! maybe we could get to know each other some more!”

his heart completely stops. he’s surprised he doesn’t go comatose in that very moment.

“w-wow!” he stutters, clearing his throat. smooth, aaron, “that sounds great, but i don’t have a sitter for jack…” he hates to decline, but his son has always come first. any woman entering his life needs to know that. not that you’re entering his life, right?

“oh! that’s not a problem! he’s invited too, i packed a peanut butter and jelly, but then i thought he could be allergic to peanut butter, so there’s a ham and cheese one in there for him too!” he sees you grow bashful at your rambling, your cheeks heating even more under the warm july sun. he has to fight the urge to kiss that pretty face, one on each cheek.

“that sounds wonderful,” he says gently, a smile in kind forming on his face, “let me go grab him.”

jack is elated to spend the day in the park with the new nice neighbor, and aaron’s heart swells at how much his son already loves you. his heart nearly bursts in his chest, though, when you loop your arm through his and lean up to whisper in his ear, “maybe later, when you can get a sitter, we can do this again, just you and me,” your siren eyes rendering him nearly comatose, once again.

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cosmal · 1 year

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you said hurt/comfort? maybe reader always gave to much of themselves in relationships (like they buy a lot of gifts, they’re the first one asking to hang out, stuff like that) and never had as much effort in return (w their ex partner for example idk) and when james (who’s love languages i hc are all) gives as much effort as reader does, and like buys them gift without reason, reader is just crying bc omg someone cares about me

this was really about me lmao i need comfort and very long sorry

pasta

summary no one has ever cooked you dinner before. james fixes that for you.

content james potter x fem!reader

note this req is literally from nov but i wrote it like two months agar and never posted im so sorry. also combined with this! request.

James bursts through your door with a mouthful of apologies already on his tongue.

"Sorry, I tried to knock but my hands were full!" he says breathlessly, holding a ridiculous amount of bags in his hands, mumbling sorry's for scaring you.

You stand at the bottom of your hallway with a hand held to your chest. "You okay? Do you need a hand?"

"Don't move a muscle," he says firmly when he reaches the kitchen bench, heaving his groceries up onto the marble with a groan. You move your hand to your lips to stifle a laugh.

"I don't want to be rude," you move to stand next to him at your kitchen island, "but what are you doing here?" You say it with a softness. He usually calls or messages you before he shows up at your flat.

"We made plans, remember," he says smiling. He kisses you on the side of your head before composing himself, starting to unpack the bags.

"I went to Morrison's and bought a bunch of stuff. Thought I'd cook you dinner." You did make plans, they were your idea. You didn’t expect him to do anything for you, you expected to maybe take him to the park for lunch or something.

"Oh," you say lightly.

You watch as he unpacks. Cloves of garlic, parsley, thickened cream, fettuccine, eggs, and pancetta. It looks like all the helpings for a carbonara. There's a Sara Lee chocolate bavarian sat to the side with frosted ice all over the cardboard that you assume is dessert. You've only been together for a few months and you're yet to have a homecooked meal together.

You're sure you've never had anyone cook you dinner before. Not without a reason or a special occasion. You worry suddenly that you've forgotten an important date.

You hum and smile along as James buzzes around the kitchen with enough energy to power a small country. You fret that you're tamping down his good mood but you're trying to remember your anniversary. And the first time you kissed. The first time you met. For a second you think you've forgotten your birthday.

He says something to you and you crack an uneven smile.

"Sweetheart?" he says again. He stops where he's got the side of his knife pressed into a head of garlic.

You blink. "Sorry, what did you say?'' You try to hide your emotion. Your voice is scratched with dread and you bite down into your lip to stay calm.

"I asked you how your day was," he repeats, setting the knife on his chopping board. He's grated half a block of cheese while you've been stuck in your head. You hope you haven't embarrassed yourself.

"Have I missed something?" you ask, voice drenched in worry. You hide your hands under the kitchen bench where you pick at your nails.

"Hmm?" he hums, eyebrows pinched together.

"You're cooking me dinner," you say, James's confusion worsens, "Is there a special reason?"

"Not really," he shrugs all blasé. This makes it worse. You don't understand.

"Then why..."

"Did you already have plans?" James worries, smile faltering. His confusion warps into something like embarrassment. "Sorry, honey, I didn't even ask."

"No, Jamie, it's not that!" you backtrack, feeling more awful than before. You just feel out of your own depth. "I've just never..."

He moves around the bench to stop where you're sitting on one of your bar stools. Your knees press into his thighs he's so close. "What's the matter?"

You grab his hands before you pick your nails raw. You think about hiding your embarrassment in his chest but decide against it. If you get too close to him you might forget bout the entire reason you're upset. You'd rather it that way but you're sure he wouldn't.

"I've never had someone cook for me," you admit quietly. You warm with a prickling heat and squirm in your rickety bar stool.

"Oh," he says, all sullen. "Well, that won't do."

You look up at him and worry you look pathetic. He cracks a smile and you're sure it's on your behalf. "What?"

"No one ever has cooked for you?" he asks. He's not rubbing in, he sounds shocked

"No," you say. You sound stupid, you're sure you look it too. You want to crawl up into a ball.

"Y/N, I know you've had boyfriends before." He knows about your past relationships and how they weren't the best. But surely they'd at least made you dinner. James overestimates them sorely.

"They never did any of this stuff for me," you sniffle. The first tear is a shock and then James is looking at you all upset and confused and the next one isn't as startling.

He wraps his arms around your back and holds you close to his chest quicker than you can reach to wipe your face. He presses slow and hot kisses into the top of your head and your tears worsen. They're sticky and thick, his cotton shirt catches the brunt of your embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," you mumble with the side of your face smooshed into his firm chest. It's too grounding and your tears don't slow like you wish they would.

"Hey, don't be," he says, smoothing a hand down your trembling back, "You deserve things."

You don't say anything, rubbing your cheek against his shirt. He tuts. "You deserve a relationship with effort, Y/N."

You hiccup. "I've never had someone care about me like you do."

James holds you so close you worry you're hurting him. He turns his head until his cheek is pressed into your hair and takes a breath. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you say and try not to disturb where he's resting on top of you. You like it more than you should. "It's okay."

"It's not."

"It is," you sniffle and pull yourself from his hold. He lets you go though with a hesitance. "It is because now I've got you."

James finally cracks a smile. "Right," he sniffles to compose himself, "right and I'm about to make you the best carbonara of you life."

"I'm excited." You wipe the remnants of your upset from your cheeks and smile wetly.

"Good."

James sets to work. Buzzing around the kitchen after he'd plugged his phone into your sound system. Shuffling the playlist he made a week into your relationship. He sings his heart out, stirring whatever it is he's got going on in the pan.

You sit at the edge of the bench with the biggest smile on your face when he starts to serenade you. Wooden spoon held to his mouth, he sings an awful rendition of Lay All Your Love On Me by ABBA. You laugh so hard you think you might be too sick to eat the pasta.

Later on that night when you're too full to move, James slides a box across the table and says, "I also got you this." With the prettiest grin you've ever seen.

You're overwhelmed with love for you to be upset. Your boyfriend is lovely and you think you might be the luckiest girlfriend on the planet.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x female!reader #james potter x female reader #james potter drabble #james potter one shot #james potter headcanon #james potter drabbles #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #james potter fan fic #marauder x reader #the marauders #the marauders fanfic #the marauders fanfiction

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slashingdisneypasta · 9 months

Text

Disney Villains x Clueless!Reader || Excerpts

Plot: You had absolutely no idea about their villainous deeds… until you walked in. Part 1??

Characters Included: Cruella De Vil, Hades, Jafar, Lots-O’-Huggin Bear

Warnings: Angst. Also kidnapping, hypnosis, and attempted gas lighting/manipulation.

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , @miss_understood , @moxiiscool , @ryantryan6969 , and @yesthetrashbin . Hey y'all! Have some drama with your August. xo

Cruella De Vil:

When you walked into Cruella’s house, using your own key (You were meant to surprise her. It was supposed to be nice!), and heard her talking to Le Pelt on the phone in her office, you were so shocked. And so was she, when she left her office and saw you there in the hallway with a horrified look on your face.

Cruella is non-too-happy about your surprise, that is for sure. As soon as she lays eyes on you and realises what you just heard, she is so frustrated. Now you’re going to make this a thing, damnit. You’re probably going to try to leave her- all because you acted stupid and tried to surprise her. Ugh! … now darling, don’t lose your little head over this, they’re just some puppies, after all- When you immediately turn and storm back towards the front door again, chucking your key at a hallway table, Cruella wouldn’t move. She wouldn’t run after you; She’s not the type. But the frustration in her voice would build and she’d give up trying to be calm and careful with you, yelling after your retreating form. Wait right there! Y/N! Turn around. You walk out that door and you’ll never work in this- or any industry, ever again! I promise you that!-

When you slam the door behind you, she will not follow you.

… But never fret, she does care… and she’ll have her admirers Le Pelt and Alonzo abduct you in the middle of the night.

Good, put the nitwit in the truck, now. Gently, you fools. Y/N- you didnt think it would be that easy, did you?? Ha! We're taking the train to Paris, soon. You've always wanted to go- so keep quiet and enjoy the ride...

Hades:

When you walked into the throne room and saw Hades holding Meg up off the ground precariously by her throat, and you heard him say something about taking over Olympus and Hercules- and Hades noticed you standing there horrified and disgusted- everything stopped.

Hades would know immediately that he fucked up. That you would have a hard time forgiving him- if you ever did at all. He would know.

Hades would be desperate. He’d be pathetic, true slimy used-cars-salesman style; Following you as you storm out of the room and down the hall to your room and begging you all the way. Offering you things which fast develop from foot rubs and chocolate coated strawberries to being Master of the Gods- Master of the World- Master of whatever you want! He tries to convince you that this is a good thing, that he’s doing it for you, so you two can be happy together.

This is all while you’re grabbing your most important things and throwing them into a sack, throwing him poisonous glares because how dare he even look at you right now that make him flinch and be quiet. If only for a second. Overall, the man cannot stop talking.

I love you, babe, you can’t- No, no, you’re not leaving. I’m not gonna just allow-

Okay okay okay, I get it! I get it, I shouldn’t threaten you right now, I get it. I’m sorry. You- you probably need some time to cool off, yeah?? Hey, that makes sense!! I would be the same, yeah?? You know what? Take a week- two! Take two weeks… take all the time y’like. And then when you’re ready, you’ll call me, and we’ll talk! I’ll set out a nice cheese platter, some wine,.. we’ll make it a picnic! It’ll be great! Ba- Babe, you’ll understand, you’ll agree, I promise! This is- this is the best thing for the both of us! I promise! I- I’m only thinking of you, sweetheart, of us. I promise! Baby- after I do this, we’ll have everything! I swear! Everything we ever wanted; You can get that house on the mountainside you had your eye on, doesn’t that sound fabulous??

And Zeus?!

Zeus?! Zeus, is a needle brained moron who doesn’t deserve- Okay okay! I’m sorry! You’re right, you’re absolutely right, baby how are you always so right about everything?? We'll set him up with a nice cottage on the coast. What??? That’s a good deal! Coconuts, babes in bikinis, the sky- he'll love it! Come on-

The man would end up on his knees, reaching for you, but you just slip out of his way, flashing another terrible glare. He has talked a lot while you packed but you've said barely two words. And its terrifying to him.

Baby… sweetheart, where’re you gonna be? You- you’re comin back, right?

… Just tell me if you’re coming back, please. Gimmie something-

No.

Jafar:

When you walked in and heard Jafar and Iago cackling about marrying the princess and hurting the poor Sultan, and they saw you standing there, Iago immediately flew off leaving more matted feathers on Jafar’s shoulder than usual from the force he used to get away so fast.

Jafar groans, brushing the feathers off him and muttering. Meanwhile you’re horrified, disgusted, creeped out- and about a million other awful emotions all at once, but you stand your ground. You lift your chin and you focus on him. You ask, really? Is that true?? Are you- Are you going to do that??? Is that the plan!?

… an eye roll, is the response you get and that make you feel even sicker. How could you??? As Jafar starts to cross the throne room, at his leisure, towards you- you start to completely lose your composure; Panic building. The- The sultan is a good man! He’s been kind. He’s your friend! I- I- I don’t understand! Jafar, I- Please, explain!

He sighs at that idea and rolls his eyes deeply, getting closer, leading with his snake staff as he always does. I already tried that.

Wh- What?

You heard me, Y/N. Now stay still.

You don’t know what he means by that, but you don’t like it, it- he, scares you. So quickly you try to turn and leave the room, leave him, but he’s too close now and his fingers are surprisingly strong; Holding you forcefully right where you are. That staff’s pushed right in front of your face, the snake’s eyes beginning to glow and burn into yours. This won’t hurt at all, my dear…

… This isn’t the first time you’ve walked in, before.

Lotso:

When you walked into the library, seeing one of the new toys tied to the ‘time out’ chair that Lotso told you (No, no. Swore to you) was a joke, you were shocked. And it was dark, so Lotso didn’t see you at first.

Twitch did. But by that point you’d heard too much, eyes wide and furious. Uh… boss?

Uhuh what Twitch? I’m kinda in the middle of something here-

Your uh… your Keeper’s, here.

Wha- my- Oh, honey! At first, Lotso tries to act like you don’t even see what’s right in front of you. Like you’re blind. Like you’re stupid. Like he can wash it all away with some papa bear charm and a kind smile- but there is something darker behind it that you see, now. What are you doin’ outta bed, sweetheart?? Its so late! You’ve had a long day. I’ll be with you in just a second, I just… When he realises that your canyon-deep glare isn’t getting any lighter, he lets it go. He lets it all go; All the sweetness and the charm that you knew him for and all that is left is… something cruel. He looks at you in a full deadpan, a cruel and disappointed deadpan that makes you actually feel cold. Physically. Alright, honey, what’d you see?

Everything!

And what do you plan t’do about it, huh?

I, I…

Hmmm?

…

That’s right sweetpea, there aint nothin’ you can do! This is my shop, now. C’mon, come with me, I’ll explain it all to ya, and you’ll see that this is the best thing for everybo-

I’ll leave.

When you say that, all the warmth in the room is sucked out- some of the other toys like Twitch and Ken look to eachother slightly wide eyed behind Lotso’s back. The look on his face turns from patronising to hard, mean, mad.

He can’t accept that. … Grab ‘em, boys.

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harlowcomehome · 3 months

Text

Dollhouses & haircuts:

A Hazel and Jade fic.

You were rushing around the house, looking for your car keys while Hazel waited impatiently on the couch.

“Mom! We’re going to be late!” She fidgeted, she was always worried about being timely just like you and her father.

“We won’t be late! I made sure we had enough time. I just don’t know where your father left the keys” you groaned, looking through random kitchen drawers as a final resort.

Jack emerged from the bedroom with Jade as his shadow. “Found them!” He jogged over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as he placed kisses down your neck.

“Time crunch Harlow” you warned turning around to grab the keys from him before kissing him.

“I love you, drive safe and call me if you need anything” he was always obviously nervous when you left the house without him.

“I love you too, promise I’ll be safe.”

You bent down to kiss Jade goodbye, holding her face in your hands as you gave her the usual pep-talk.

“Be on your best behavior for Daddy, okay?”

“Promise!” She giggled jumping up and down.

“And daddy, be on your best behavior for Jadey” Hazel teased as Jack hugged her goodbye.

“No promises!” Jack replied as the two of you left the house.

Jade was ready for her fun day with her dad, she made sure to get good sleep so she’d have plenty of energy but Jack on the other hand was struggling with the morning already.

He couldn’t stop yawning, as he stood over the stovetop. Jade noticed immediately, worried Jack would fall asleep on her shortly after breakfast.

“Daddy? You’re not sleepy are you?” She sat at the kitchen table and waited for her eggs and hash browns.

“I’m a little tired but I probably just need to eat breakfast” Jack knew to answer with a little more pep than usual, sensing Jades' worry.

“Do you want chocolate milk?” Jack took the chocolate syrup out of the fridge knowing what her answer would be.

He sat beside her at the table, holding a mug of hot tea in both hands as Jade immediately started eating her eggs.

“You don’t want cheese on yours?” Jade asked with her mouth full, realizing his eggs didn’t have any.

“I didn’t need any” he smiled, not having the heart to tell her there was only enough cheese for her eggs.

“Do you want chocolate milks? I can share” Jade pushed her cup toward Jack almost spilling it but Jack's quick reflexes caught it before it did.

“Sorry Daddy!” Jade slapped her hand over her mouth.

“It’s okay bug, you’re very sweet for offering to share but I have my own drink.”

“When we are done, can we play with my dollys? Jade swung her feet back and forth under the table.

“Of course! We can play whatever you want to play” Jack smiled at his youngest daughter. Her features favored yours, and he was caught off guard for a moment at how much she looked like you.

“What Daddy? I have something on my face?” She aggressively wiped her mouth with the sleeves of her shirt.

“No bug” Jack chuckled reaching for a napkin to hand her. “I just think you look very beautiful today.”

“Like a princess?” Her eyes sparkled with excitement.

“Just like a princess” a loving grin spread across his face knowing how much that meant to her.

Once they were both done eating, Jade went to her playroom and got some of her favorite dolls, Jack set up her new dollhouse in the living room that you had both gotten her for her last birthday.

If you asked Jade she’d say it was her most prized possession.

Jack leaned against the couch as he waited for Jade, his eyelids drooping suddenly feeling overwhelmingly heavy.

“Daddy? Are you sleeping?” Jade's voice was sweet and shaky, she would be riddled with disappointment if he was, and Jack knew that. She was holding a plastic bucket against her chest filled with dolls.

He cleared his throat, fixing his posture. “No, you were just taking forever and a day” he teased, trying to play it off as Jade excitedly giggled and sat beside him.

“I wasn’t! Here- you can maybe be her” She handed Jack a Bratz doll with long brown hair and a blue outfit on.

“I look nothing like her!” Jack held the doll up to his face, making a silly cross-eyed face in comparison.

Jade giggled, making Jack laugh too.

“I don’t have a doll with hair like yours Daddy” Jade looked in her bucket of dolls with disappointment, sorting through to find another doll for her dad.

“Whatever happened to the dolls grandma got you?” Jack knew his mom had bought some dolls with similar hair to his and Jade's recently.

“I think they are at grammys house” She put a finger on her chin for a moment to think.

“That's okay! I was only joking, we can play with these” Jack fought back the urge to yawn.

They were playing with dolls for what Jack would’ve sworn was hours on end when Jade finally had to use the restroom, giving him a moment to rest his eyes. It wasn’t long before Jack had fallen asleep on the living room rug, snoring and all.

Jade's feet made pitter-patter noises against the floor, as she entered the room. “Daddy?”

Jack snored, louder than normal catching Jade off guard and making her jump back a little. She climbed onto the couch, pulling the blanket that usually sat on top of it off and covering her dad as he continued to deeply sleep.

Jade quietly played with her dolls alone until she had an idea, she ran into her playroom and found the child crafting scissors you bought for her and Hazel. They had rounded edges but were still sharp enough to cut most things, she had also found a roll of scotch tape.

It didn’t take long for her to tiptoe over to Jack, pulling the blanket down and cutting off a fair amount of his hair. Jack still didn’t flinch, having been completely knocked out.

Jade held a handful of her dad’s hair in her hand, struggling as she cut all of the hair off of one of her dolls and taped her dad’s hair around its head. She giggled with excitement, feeling as though she did a decent job.

It wasn’t until Jack's phone rang and it startled him awake that he finally realized he had fallen asleep. He frantically looked around for Jade, worried that she had somehow gotten out of the house.

“Hi, Daddy! I’m right here!” Jade waved as Jack quickly answered his phone.

“Hi, yeah, everything’s going good babe” he spoke to you in a calm tone, hoping you wouldn’t be able to tell he had taken a quick nap. “See you soon!”

“Is mommy coming home?”

“Yeah! Her and Hazel are bringing home lunch. So go wash your hands for me please?”

Jade stood up quickly, running to the bathroom as Jack cleaned up the mess that was made in the living room. He hadn’t noticed the doll or what was taped to it, as he put her in the bin with the other dolls.

Both you and Hazel noticed immediately that his hair was shorter on one side, you held up a finger to your lips motioning for Hazel not to say anything as she joined Jade in the restroom to wash her hands.

“Hey, baby? Have you-“You paused knowing he was about to have a full meltdown, his hair being a really important thing to him. Your eyes were hyper-fixated on the short strands of hair that sat on top of his left ear.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He chuckled nervously, as you grabbed his hand and guided him to your primary bedroom.

The two of you stood in front of a mirror for less than two seconds before a bloodcurdling scream escaped him. His entire face went bright red with anger.

“What the fuck? Y/N? What the fuck?”

“Babe, I need you to calm down. How did this happen?” You could see the angry tears forming in his eyes, his nostrils were flared and his jaw was flexed.

“I have a shoot tomorrow. I fell asleep for a few minutes and she must have cut it then. What the fuck am I going to do? I look like an idiot.”

“It’s just hair! It’ll grow back Jackman. You’re going to raise your blood pressure, take a deep breath!”

Hazel stood in the doorway, slightly scared at her dad’s reaction as Jade was hidden behind her holding the doll that now possessed some of her dad’s curls.

You both heard Jade sniffling as Hazel began to explain on her little sister’s behalf. “I talked to Jadey and she said she just wanted her doll to have hair like daddy.”

Jack recalled the previous conversation in his head, realizing immediately why Jade came to make that decision.

Jade began to wail, knowing she had done wrong by Jack's reaction alone. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a deep sigh before walking over to both of his girls.

Hazel nodded giving her dad a sympathetic smile before joining you on the other side of the room.

“I’m sorry Daddy!” Jade sat down on the hardwood floor, covering both of her eyes with her hands.

“I know you’re sorry baby, but you can’t go around cutting people’s hair off” Jack sat down taking Jade into his lap and holding her as she continued to cry into his chest.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you angry” Jade continued to fill Jack's shirt with snot and tears.

“I can’t believe she did that” Hazel whispered to you as you silently agreed, watching as everything played out.

Your heart broke when you heard Jade utter the words, “Do you still love me?”

Jack's heart ached, knowing his tone had scared her enough to ask that question in the first place.

“I’ll always love you, nothing can change that. Not even cutting my hair off, okay?” He poked her nose with his index finger to let her know he wasn’t upset at her.

Eventually both Hazel and Jade went into the playroom to give you and Jack a moment alone, which you both desperately needed.

“Babe…”

“Before you say anything else, I want to say I’m very proud of you for how you handled that. I know that this is a worst-case scenario for you” You walked over to your husband, who was sitting at the edge of your bed with his chin in his hands.

“What am I going to do?” He mumbled, his shoulders slumped.

“Well, I have one solution, but I’m not entirely sure you’re going to like it” You held up the hair clippers he had tucked hidden away in his sock drawer.

“I’m not shaving my head! Are you insane woman?” Jack was practically clutching his metaphoric pearl necklace.

“What about a mullet? I can shave the other side to match the side Jade cut and you can rock a mullet for a while?”

Jack took a deep breath, “Fuck it. Billy Ray me babe.”

The sound of the clippers made both Hazel and Jade join you, out of sheer curiosity.

Hazel couldn’t contain her laughter, practically falling onto the floor as Jack rolled his eyes in disbelief of what was going on.

“Be nice or I’ll make you match me” he mouthed to his eldest daughter, stopping her laughter immediately.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #Jack Harlow fanfic

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awakentrashpanda · 4 months

Text

Smiling Critters incorrect quotes

Dogday: What is the code etomologists use for "I stepped on it, I'm so sorry, it was dark out and the specimen was very small?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "Impromptu dissection was performed under less-than-optimal lighting conditions."

Catnap: "Impromptu dissection" is an alarming phrase in any context and I thank you for it.

KickinChickin: What’s biologist for "the little f⭐️cker BIT me and I yote it into the undergrowth on reflex?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "The specimen was removed from the study pool due to abnormal interaction responses."

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hoppy Hopscotch: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.  KickinChickin: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Hoppy Hopscotch: Nothing in life is free.  Bobby Bearhug: Love is free.  Bubba Bubbaphant: Knowledge is free.  Craftycorn: Friendship is free.  Dogday: Self-respect is free.  KickinChickin: Everything's free if you don't pay for it.  The Squad: ...  PickyPiggy: Kickin, that's illegal-  Hoppy Hopscotch: No, let him finish!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Bubba Bubbaphant: Are you tall enough to play basketball though?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Are you calling me short?  Bubba Bubbaphant: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

KickinChickin: You have Crayons?  Craftycorn: Yes, I have—  KickinChickin: You're— how old are you?  Craftycorn (in tears): YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨

PickyPiggy: *standing at the top of the stairs* What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase?  Catnap: I accidentally fell down.  Bubba Bubbaphant: CATNAP PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HIS part of our rent!  Dogday: Catnap bet me fifty bucks that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than they did falling down it, so I slide down the banister to get my money.  KickinChickin: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Dogday.

💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡

Dogday: I love you.  Catnap: How many people have you said that to?  Dogday: Everyone.  Catnap: What?  Dogday: I told everyone that I love you.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Craftycorn: Why does Picky always do the laundry so loudly?  Bobby Bearhug: So everyone knows that no one helps her out in the house.  PickyPiggy, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

PickyPiggy: So Hunny-bunny, how did your first time cooking dinner go?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Pretty good if I do say so myself.  PickyPiggy: Oo! Okay, what are we having?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato.  PickyPiggy: A whole potato?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches!  PickyPiggy: These just look like big slabs of black.  Hoppy Hopscotch: Because that's what they are!  Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for desert, we have chocolate.  PickyPiggy: These are just chocolate chips?  Hoppy Hopscotch: They sure are!  Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for drinks, we have toast!  Hoppy Hopscotch: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetite!

🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻

KickinChickin: I have a plan.

PickyPiggy: Good! As long as we aren’t breaking the law again, I’m open to hearing it.

KickinChickin: …

PickyPiggy: …

KickinChickin: I no longer have a plan.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

PickyPiggy: why can’t any of y’all ever come up with a plan that doesn’t involve breaking the law?

Bubba Bubbaphant (awkwardly looking over at KickinChickin and Hoppy Hopscotch): Picky…You do realize that three of us have been to prison before, right?

🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤🐤

KickinChickin: Have I ever told you that I love you like the mom I never had?  PickyPiggy: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am!  KickinChickin: Mean.

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

Hoppy Hopscotch: I'm sorry. Please talk to me.  PickyPiggy:  Hoppy Hopscotch: Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure?  PickyPiggy: Hmf! 'Sorry' ain’t never gonna bring back my f🍎cking M&Ms.

🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄🦄

Bubba Bubbaphant: What do we think of Dogday?  *pause*  Hoppy Hopscotch: *shrugs* Nice pal.  Bobby Bearhug: I think he’s gay.

🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘🐘

KickinChickin: That was so hot, Bubba.  Bubba Bubbaphant: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.  KickinChickin: I'm so in love with you.

🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱🐱

KickinChickin: Now, if I may speak for good-looking people everywhere...  Catnap: Only as their rodeo clown.

🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷🐷

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mamawasatesttube · 3 months

Note

Ouuugh so many good options, i suppose 9 or 15 for the prompts

9. "It will be better in the morning."

"I've decided," Tim announces, "that I have a cure for nightmares."

He doesn't look like he's in much of a position to be announcing any kind of breakthrough; he's swaddled in a throw blanket and curled up against Kon's chest, his hair impressively disheveled and his cheeks still a little blotchy from tears. He kind of reminds Kon of one of those baby chicks that've just hatched and are mad about it, with the barely-dried downy fuzz sticking every which way. The yellow lamplight glimmers in his eyes as he peeps up at Kon's face, expectant.

Kon hums. Purrs louder as he keeps rocking the recliner back and forth, slow and gentle. "Is it drinking your hot chocolate and listening to Car Talk until you fall back asleep?"

Tim scoffs. "No." He pauses, wrinkling his nose a little. "I mean. I'll drink the hot chocolate, since you made it for me and all. But no. I'm simply never gonna sleep ever again. Foolproof."

Kon snorts, scrunching his hand through Tim's hair. Tim takes a soft breath, only a little shaky, and then smushes his face into the crook of Kon's neck again. His breath tickles a little against Kon's skin.

"Babe," Kon says. "Sorry to break it to you, but you literally fall asleep on me every single movie night. You're, like, the archetypical dad from every single tweet about dads who fall asleep five minutes into movies. And you aren't even an actual dad."

Tim huffs, a tiny puff of token offense. "I could change." His fingers curl into Kon's shirt. "Can't have a flashback in your sleep if you never sleep again."

"Yeah, you'll just start having sleep deprivation hallucinations." Kon kisses the top of his head. It's late enough it's almost early; he stifles a yawn. The last thing he wants is for Tim to feel guiltier than he already does for keeping him up. "Besides, you love sleeping."

Tim heaves a great, despondent sigh. "I do love sleeping," he admits, a little morose. "Sucks when sleeping doesn't love me back."

"I love you back," Kon coos.

He can feel Tim's lips quirk into a tiny smile against his collarbone. "You're such a giant cheese," Tim mumbles. He doesn't say it back, not with words, but the brush of his lips in the tiniest whisper of a kiss tells Kon everything loud and clear.

Kon purrs a little harder. He likes having Tim here, bundled up in his arms. Likes knowing he makes him feel safer. Likes that he can make him smile after he woke up screaming. "Too bad you're lactose intolerant, huh?"

"I already took my Lactaid to drink the hot chocolate, so shut up." Kon just knows he's rolling his eyes.

"Speaking of which, it's probably a good temperature now," Kon says, and wraps his TTK around the mug to float it over from the side table. "Here."

Tim's hands creep out of the throw blanket to wrap around the mug. He shifts in Kon's arms and sighs again, sitting up to take a tiny sip. His face already looks a little better, cheeks a little less flushed. "Mm. Yeah," he agrees. "...Thanks."

"Always." Kon gives him a gentle squeeze. "Drink up, and then we can just chill before we go back to bed. It'll be better in the morning."

"Mn." Tim makes a noncommittal noise. But he does keep sipping his hot chocolate, and his heart rate is a lot closer to baseline than it was a little while ago. "Guess so."

He twists in Kon's arms suddenly, cups Kon's jaw in one hand, and kisses him. Kon melts like sugar in the rain, the way he always does when Tim kisses him. Tim's lips are a little chapped. He tastes of cocoa and marshmallow fluff.

Tim breaks that kiss, then bumps his nose against Kon's, a silent gesture of gratitude. He blinks at him once, then goes back to his hot chocolate.

Kon smiles and holds him just a bit tighter. The marshmallows on Tim's mouth are definitely sweet, but he can think of something sweeter.

#peacheel #timkon #im not fully satisfied with the premise on this one but it did make me think!!!#sleep flashbacks (slashbacks. if you will) are evil #but also man... today im in such a mood for writing cuddles. why? idk #rimi writes #tim #kon

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luveline · 4 months

Note

can we see what christmas is like with eddie, reader and roan? 🫶

the munson family and their pre christmas priorities ♡ (step)mom!reader, 1k

“I'm sick of being a dad,” Eddie says. “I'm done. You're going to live with your Uncle Wayne.”

Roan roars with laughter, her hair dusting the floor, her t-shirt dipping down to expose her chubby belly where she hangs from Eddie's hands. “Dad, pick me up!”

“I'm Eddie now to you.”

“I'm,” —she cackles— “sorry! Pick me up!”

Eddie gives her a last good shake before gently lowering her to the floor. She's all flushed cheeks and big eyes, her hair a riot around her head as she wipes stray strands from her mouth. “I'm sorry, daddy,” she says, pouting, her thin brows rising up her forehead. “Don't be mad.”

“I'm furious.”

“No, you're not! You're not angry, dad, you're smiling.”

Eddie forces his lips into a deep frown. “I told you to keep her in line!”

You huff from your place by the Christmas tree. “Give it up, Eds. Santa doesn't come for grown ups, I already told you that.” You place a final small gift atop the small mountain of silver-wrapped boxes and straighten it to perfection. “So I have to make sure you get what you deserve.”

“What was I s'posed to do?” Roan asks, sitting up. Her pyjamas are just a little too big, the shirt falling to her thighs and the pants covering her toes.

“Restrain her,” Eddie says, grabbing Roan under the arms to help her onto her feet. “Let me roll your pants up, babe.”

“I shrank in the night,” she says.

Eddie smooths her hair out of her face as he kneels in front of her. “You're so funny. Santa will bring you all kinds of new pyjamas tomorrow, he told me. But don't tell him I told you.”

“Did you get me anything?” Roan asks.

If only she knew. “Yeah, we got you some gifts too. But we're gonna put them out when Santa does, okay?”

“Okay.” She beams. Eddie pulls her pants from under her little feet to roll the hems up, worried she'll slip and smash her face on the wood floors.

“You're excited,” Eddie says, moving to her second leg, “I can feel you vibrating like a dog.”

“Woof,” she says, wrapping her arms around his neck. She's in a very cuddly mood tonight.

“Oh, what a beautiful puppy I have. She's so cute.” He hugs her lightly, black curls trapped either side of them. Eddie sits back on his calves and she lets herself fall into his lap. “What kind of puppy are you? A poodle?”

“No, I wanna be a dalmatian!”

“Of course,” he hums, stroking her hair. “How could I forget? You love damn-nations.”

You stand up from the tree to poke at them with your foot. “Can we have hot chocolate now?”

“Yeah!”

“Puppy's can't have chocolate,” Eddie says, encouraging Roan back to tuck her hair behind her ears. “So you'll have to be human Ro again.”

She sighs forlornly. “Okay.”

You make your way into the kitchen, paper chains hanging in the doorway and snowflake stickers holographic against the dark window. It's only 5PM, but the sun has firmly set, leaving the outside world in total darkness. You flick on the kitchen light and immediately head to the stove to heat the stove top kettle where it’s lived this last month on the back hob. “Milk, please?” you ask.

Eddie's already in the fridge. He passes you the milk, ignoring the mounds of foil wrapped meats and cheeses, his stomach aching in longing. “One more sleep,” he says, hooking a pint of milk on his pinky.

Roan attempts to climb your legs. You pick her up and put her on the counter, shielding her from the stove with your body. “What's for dinner?” she asks you.

“How about soup?” you ask. When Roan wrinkles her nose, you add, “With croutons? We could have yummy vegetable soup with crispy croutons.” Still wrinkled. “Or we could have tomato soup and grilled cheese?”

“With extra cheese?” Roan asks.

“Sure, princess. Lots and lots of cheese.”

Eddie opens the kettle. “What was in here?”

“Milk last night, but I already washed it. I knew we'd be having more hot chocolate,” you say, words shaped by your smile as Roan pulls you in for a hug. “It's so cold, huh, baby.”

“My nose is cold.”

“I can feel it!”

Eddie pours the entire pint of milk into the kettle. It'll be just enough for all three of you to have a full mug, and if he uses the big mugs there'll be no risk of overflow once the whipped cream and marshmallows have been added.

The milk doesn't need to boil, only warm. While it's heating he takes the hot chocolate powder from the cupboard and throws in a couple of heaping spoonfuls. The milk quickly turns a rich brown.

“Should I put some real chocolate in there too?” Eddie asks.

“Duh, dad!” Roan says.

You second her agreement more kindly, “Yes! Definitely yes. It's always best with the real stuff too.” You rub Roan's shoulders. “Yeah?”

Eddie's getting jealous, honestly. He ignores you both, shutting the lid on the kettle and easing his way between your arm and Roan's. “Let me in,” he demands.

You curl an arm behind his back. When you look up into his face, you couldn't look more in love. There's a shine to your eyes, a reverence he can't miss, and he's expecting your compliment before you give it.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you say, kissing the side of his chin.

He drops his head onto yours and pulls Roan in as close as he can without knocking her off of the counter. The air has already begun to smell of chocolate, though the smell of honeyed ham lingers. Roan herself smells like no tears shampoo. Eddie sniffs you curiously.

“Stop sniffing me.”

“What do you smell like?”

“Nothing. I'm not wearing any perfume.”

You smell like yourself. He can't explain it, but he likes it, hiding his nose in the seam of your hairline.

Roan cracks first, pushing you both away. “How long will it take?”

“Any minute now,” Eddie says, kissing your cheek before pulling away. “Let me get that chocolate.”

“You didn't put the chocolate in? Dad.”

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