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#still the prettiest girl on TV

bedsyandco · 23 days

Note

⇴ "i only want to see you right now. i really miss you." and person a is like "you just saw me yesterday"

With Lando Norris

ᯓ⌕ 𝐈 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 — 𝐋𝐍𝟒 ༉‧₊

pairing: fem!bsf!reader x lando norris

summary: in which lando always misses his best friend (you) terribly when he travels as much as he does. so when you travel with him to the Chinese GP, he couldn’t be happier to have you by his side. However when you spend a few hours with Lily when lando and alex are busy with meetings, he can’t help but feel a bit of separation anxiety settle in.

content: just some fluff!

note: my first time writing for lando!! the friends to lovers trope just never gets old and thus I shall never stop writing it.

lando was laying on his hotel bed, debating whether or not he should get up and retrieve the TV remote. he knew he wasn’t going to pay much attention anyway. his mind was elsewhere. specifically on that old brown clock on the wall, the obnoxious sound of tik-tik-tik making him hyper aware of every second that passes. every second that he was stuck in that hotel room and you were somewhere else without him.

he wasn’t stuck exactly. it’s not like he’s a prisoner that couldn’t go anywhere, he could very well call or text you, find out where you and lily have wandered off to and join the two of you. or simply snatch you away and bring you back here.

lando would like to say that he wasn’t usually this selfish with you, but that would be a lie. ever since he met you at that one karting event, lando’s been jealous of anyone else who gets to spend time with you.

he still remembers the day he met you like it was yesterday. it was just during the time period when lando began to really get into karting, he was maybe six or seven. he was good at it too, relishing in taking the number one spot on the make shift podium every time. and that was the case that particular weekend as well, although from the way everyone seemed to flock to you afterwards, you wouldn’t have been able to tell who won.

lando was really annoyed by it, making assumptions in his anger that maybe they only focused so much on you because you were the only girl, but later he would learn that it wasn’t the case. people flocked to you simply because you were… you.

lando wasn’t immune to it either because by the third time you guys raced each other, you had become best of friends. and even years later when your interest had gone beyond the race track and lando’s passion for it only intensified, you had still remained close.

therefore it wasn’t a foreign concept for lando not see you often. he was travelling most of the year, rarely in one country for more than a couple weeks at a time. and he knew how serious you were about your studies and now your job, you weren’t going to follow him around like a lost puppy, although he had tried to convince you more than once already.

on the rare occasion that you did fly out and visited him, he wanted every minute of your time to be spent with him, which is why he’s a little pouty that his meeting stretched long today and you had decided to occupy your time by going to explore the city with lily.

lando was aware that his mindset was a tad bit childish, but he hadn’t seen you all day and that justifies —

his thoughts get halted by a beep in the door, followed by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen making her way into his room. lando moves so fast he almost trips multiple times on the way to you. he’s sure he’s mimicking an over excited puppy. who’s been waiting all day for their owner to come home (as he has been) and getting excited and flocking to them as soon as they walk through the door (as he did) and then following and clinging to them for an ounce of attention (as he’s about to)

“hi lan,” you greet him, putting your shopping bags down against the wall and removing your jacket, hanging it behind the door

he doesn’t respond verbally, instead just wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you towards the bed.

“lan,” you giggle as he falls on top of the bed, pulling you with him. he tightens his arms around you and rests his head on your chest sighing constantly as your hands run through his hair

“lily asked if we wanted to go to dinner with her and alex tonight. I said I’d hear what your plans are first,” you say

“no. I’m not in the mood for other people. I only wanna see you right now. I really missed you.” lando says and you laugh softly

“you just saw me yesterday,” you say softly and lando purses his lips, resting his chin on your chest to look at you

“so? am I not allowed to miss you? are you saying you didn’t miss me?” lando asks, gasping in mock hurt and you laugh

“no I did. I always miss you. cause my best friend just had to go and choose one of the jobs where he’s rarely home and I barely get to see him,” you say dramatically, a smile on your face but it quickly fades when you see the solemn expression on lando’s face

“what’s wrong?” you ask, gently caressing his cheek and he leans into your hand

“nothing,” he replies but you give him a look and he sighs before saying, “I just wonder if it’s worth it sometimes. all the travelling, the never being home, the missing out on seeing my niece grow up. all the things I could’ve had by now,” lando says, looking at you as if he wanted to add to it but he’s holding back.

“what things? lan racing is all you’ve ever wanted to do. it’s your dream. your passion. it’s everything to you-“

“well maybe it shouldn’t be. maybe I wanna prioritize my personal life too. and maybe I wanna see you more than just three times a year,” lando says and your heart squeezes at the longing look on his face

“maybe I wanna stop being scared and tell the girl I’ve been in love with my life that I can’t go three hours without seeing her, let alone three months,” lando says, playing the the strings of his hoodie, vulnerability shining through

“you never said anything,” you reply, your heart beating so loud in your chest you can hear it in your ears

“cause it’s selfish. what can I offer you? I travel all the time. I’m barely home. I won’t be able to be there for you in the same capacity you’re there for me. and it would be unfair to ask you to travel with me all the time. it’s just unfair, and I won’t do it to you. but the idea of giving up racing…”

“is utterly ridiculous and you would be so unhappy,” you say and lando lets out a soft laugh. his heart swelling at the fact you know him that well

“yeah,” he agrees. furrow between his brows as he lets out a sigh

“the thing about racing is that there are so many things out of your control lan. and relying on that for your happiness is setting yourself up for failure,” you say

“well… there are certain things I can control,” lando says, looking at your lips briefly before lowering his head to yours, your lips connecting in a soft kiss that sparks butterflies in your stomach

“should’ve done that a long time ago,” lando says softly and the grin on your face mirrors his

“do it again,” you say and he laughs softly, pressing his lips to yours once more

lando knows in a few days he’s gonna have to miss you all over again, but as long as he gets to come home to you at the end of the day, everything’s gonna be okay.

— 💬 I loved writing Lando way more than I thought I would!! thank you so much for requesting and celebrating 1.8K with me nonnie!! I hope you liked it <3

#⊹ ࣪ ˖ cami’s celebrates — 1.8k ⟢#lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #lando norris blurb #lando norris fic #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando norris

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messylustt · 10 months

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We need more touchy & needy Hobie who has feelings for his friend (she's the prettiest girl in! the! world! and his eyes akhxsj) i can imagine him being that type who brags a lot about her too lol (but he's not with her.....yet, he's just crushing very hard)

my girl — hobie brown. longer name. your best friend, hobie, is a protective bastard.

you were laying back against the couch, busy glaring at the tv. hobie walked in, a slight tilt to his head as he moved towards you. “please don’t hit it.” you shift your gaze to hobie sighing. “it’s not the tv i’m pissed at. it’s him.” you gesture to the actor on tv. “i mean can he be any more oblivious?” hobie bites down on his lower lip chuckling at your furrowed brows. he jumps down into a seat beside you, fingers reaching to smooth out the wrinkles on your forehead. you swat his hand away, and his eyes narrow. “i’m only tryna help.”

“with what?” you give him a side glance. his fingers shift back to grab your chin. “just makin’ sure you don’ grow too old, too fast.” you narrow your gaze on him, scoffing at his ‘wrinkles equal old’ joke. “and here I thought you were into older woman.” hobie scoffs, shifting slightly closer to you on the couch, arm moving to rest behind you.

“not that old. i prefer the forty to fifty age range.” you jab his side with your elbow, making him chuckle, slightly doubling over. “what time is it?” you suddenly ask, seeming to just realise how dark it had gotten outside.

“‘bout eight.” he comments, his hand moving to fiddle “absentmindedly” with your shirt — arm having to move further around you to do it. “eight? shit, i should go.” you move to stand, but hobie pulls you back down by a now permanent arm around your shoulders. you slightly fall back into him, the back of your head hitting his chest, as you feel it rumble in a chuckle.

you grab his wrist, preparing to move his hand, but hobie just pulls you closer. “jus’ stay ‘ere tonight. i don’ mind.”

“i should be getting back to my own universe.” you say, trying and failing again to move his arm. “hobie.”

“nah they won’t miss you.” he says, hand now rubbing the material of your collar between his calloused fingers. “that was nicely put, hobie.” you sarcastically say, twisting so that you can see him, but his hold still doesn’t let up.

“mhm.” he hums, a wide grin on his face as he catches your gaze. “you’re being clingy…” you narrow your gaze. he feigns innocence. “am i?” he wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling you even closer, making your breathing hitch a fraction. you quickly place your hands on his chest, so that you physically couldn’t get any closer. “yes. and it’s…weird.”

“weird? and here i thought ya were a nice and accepting girl.” his teasing smile hasn’t left. your tongue pokes out against your cheek, as you push farther away from him, finally managing to stand. hobie holds back from grabbing you again, having liked having his friend that close. his…friend.

that’s all you were, or all you saw him as. he saw different. he liked sparing you touches, and disliked when you would inevitably leave his hands. yeah, he knows you need to protect your universe but sometimes he wishes he could be a bit more selfish with you.

;;

when you were in groups, say with pav, gwen, miles and peter. hobie would have an arm wrapped around your shoulder. or when you all would sit, he’d make sure you were sat beside him, tugging your suit closer if necessary. the others found it rather sweet, how whenever you couldn’t make a ‘hang out’ being on a mission or something alike, hobie would use the time to talk you up. saying things like “yeah, did ya see y/n the other day? one of the best swingers i know.”

“didn’t y/n win that one? yeah i think she did.” he’s always been there to brag about you, but when someone else found a place to compliment you — especially if it’s the guy whose been eyeing you — hobie would use the terms ‘ma girl this’ ‘ma girl that’. “ma girl could have done better.” and everyone would know who he was talking about.

so, maybe he did have a little crush on you, maybe he wanted to get the spiders who paid extra attention fired. and maybe he liked your entire attention only on him. to anyone new you two would seem together with how hobie talks about you, but no, you’re ‘just friends’.

;;

hobie grins when you walk into HQ, but a frown soon forms when he sees how battered up you look. rushing past the others he reaches your side, grabbing your chin. you slightly startle at his fast movements. “oh, just a hard mission. i’m fine.” but hobie doesn’t loosen his grip, actually slipping his large hand further around you as he forces you to sit.

“what happened?” gwen asks, all of them having moved towards you after hobie. “just a mission. i’m fine though.” you somewhat chuckle, trying to stand again. “sit down.” hobie states, leaving no room for argument as he inspects your face full of cuts, his frown not lifting.

“hobie.” you move to grab his hand, but he only tightens it. your brows slightly furrow at his clear concern. you weren’t that badly injured, nothing life threatening. but to hobie it was the prospect of it, it could have been life threatening. “let me come next time.” he says, catching your gaze.

“you don’t have to — ” but he cuts you off. “i’m coming next time.” he sounds more sure of himself, as he grabs you into a stance. bringing you to the medical room, even after your protests of ‘i’m fine’. it goes in one ear and out the other, hobie just sitting you down as he mends your cuts, waving off the medical spiders.

“i feel like i should be flattered.” you slightly chuckle, as he tilts your head how he wants. “yeah, you should be.” he says, dabbing at a cut on your lip. “look at all this attention i’m giving you.” you chuckle, mouth opening a fraction. hobie shifts closer to you on the medical bed, hand moving to hold part of your ear and hair as he makes sure he got every cut.

“what is with all this…attention anyway?” you ask, forcing him to meet your gaze. “we’re friends aren’t we?” he asks, still not removing his hand from your face. “yeah, but…you’re acting….” you drift off brows furrowing. hobie shifts his fingers to smooth the lines on your forehead. “remember: forty to fifty age range.”

you raise your brows. “then i’m in the clear.” hobie licks at his lip ring. “not quite.” he mutters. you tilt your head, as hobie’s fingers leave your face by drifting down your skin, stopping by the cut on your lip. you both freeze at the movement, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “does it hurt?” you shrug. “more of a sting.”

“hm.” hobie hums absentmindedly, his gaze caught up in the cut. at first even he doesn’t realise how close he’s moving. your eyes slightly widen, as you lose your breath.

hobie moves closer a small tilt to his head, as his breath then fans over your bottom lip — over your cut. and then before either of you can say a word more, hobie’s lips are slowly wrapping around your lower lip, his tongue poking out to brush right along your cut, soothing the wound with his spit.

his hand has moved to your hair, a tighter grip accompanying. he draws back a fraction, your bottom lip now wet. hobie can’t help as his tongue comes back out to soothe at your cut again, dragging all the way across your lower lip, and stopping when he’s hovering over your entire mouth, tongue so close to slipping in. you feel lightheaded, as your grip has moved to his jacket, but hobie seems in a daze of his own.

“i jus’…it looked…” and he swiftly pulls you closer, hand now weaved completely into your hair as he slips his tongue into your mouth, lips connecting with yours as his head tilts for better access. “yeah…jus’ looked sore…” he pushes harder against your mouth, his hand slipping to grab your waist. ‘friends’ can now officially be used loosely, as hobie’s eager mouth takes ownership of yours.

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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months

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Steve Harrington x fem!reader

It started with a broken cookie.

Three valentines ago, when you were single and sad about it, angry that it got you upset, morose that you couldn’t help but feel that way.

Working in the bakery on Main meant that you spent the whole week leading up to the holiday handing out heart shaped cookies with the names of different girls and boys in the center, the sugar icing all shades of pink and red. Your fingertips were stained cotton candy by the time the day arrived, hands aching from piping cursive, loops and swirls and glitter and sprinkles stuck to your skin.

You complained about it when you visited the video store on your lunch breaks, bringing in half decorated cookies that hadn’t quite made the cut for sale, handing hearts to Steve and Robin with an almost petulant look on your face. You didn’t have a valentine and there you were, still delivering treats to the ones you loved most. Robin bit into hers with a sigh, red icing on her lips, a smack of a kiss pressed to your cheek in thanks and maybe that was as good as it was going to get.

And when Steve asked you what was wrong, you shrugged and scuffed the toe of your flour coated sneakers against the old carpet and tried not to sound too mournful when you simply said, “love sucks.”

The boy had snorted and nodded, agreeing whole heartedly before he snapped the sugar cookie in half, splitting the baby pink icing down the middle. Sprinkles scattered everywhere, dancing across the desk and messing up his delivery sheets but Steve didn’t seem to mind. He handed you half, a small smile on his face and when you took it with surprise clearly written across your face, Steve turned as pink as the cookie.

Valentine’s Day came and went with a fanfare of heart shaped balloons and a too big crowd outside of Enzo’s, a replaying of The Princess Bride at the cinema bringing in couples in love, young and old, first dates and forty years married.

You’d resigned yourself to an evening on the couch in front of your TV, maybe with a pizza delivery and some microwave popcorn to soften the blow. It was a complete surprise when you found Steve by your car, his own shop keys still hanging from his pocket, his Family Video vest still on over his t-shirt. He was holding a bunch of flowers, pretty as they were small, the pastel colours of the tulips making up for the quantity. They were wrapped in brown paper, tied with a bow that was a little lopsided and Steve Harrington was positively rose coloured.

“Hi,” he greeted, his voice almost a little too loud in the empty parking lot. He offered you the bouquet, the smell of spring clinging to them. “These are for you.”

You blinked, even though it had been obvious. He was waiting by your car after all. But still, the sight of him and the unprompted gift made your chest feel like goo, an affection as sticky as marshmallow clinging to your insides, coating all the bitter frost that had once wrapped around your heart.

“They are?” You took the flowers, cheeks burning, wondering why the prettiest guy in Hawkins was giving you a gift on Valentine’s Day. You didn’t mean to sound blunt, or ungrateful, but you could help but ask. “Why?”

Steve bit back a smile at your surprise, your wide eyes and plain words. He shrugged, leaning against the hood of your car, looking unfairly handsome even under the orange glow of the street lights. “Pretty girls deserve flowers, right?” He shoved his hands in his pockets, boyish and suddenly shy. “It’s Valentine’s. Maybe I’m hoping you’ll let me be yours.”

—————

The next year Steve bought you more flowers, a bigger bunch, hand picked and wrapped in some newspaper, tied with a red bow that he made Robin help him with. He dropped them into the bakery for you, still pink cheeked even after eleven months of officially being your boyfriend and he didn’t break character when he ordered a heart shaped cookie from you.

You’d rolled your eyes, all affection, his chin resting on the countertop display as he watched you work with big, brown eyes. He gave you your own name, blinking all innocent, grinning when you scoffed but wrote it all the same, swooping letters that made your cheeks burn. He thanked you politely when you handed over the box, your ruby stained fingers meeting his as you took his dollar bills and Steve held onto the cookie for all of six seconds before he gasped like he’d just noticed it was you for the first time.

“You look way too pretty to be workin’ on Valentine’s Day,” he told you smoothly, bringing the flowers to rest under his chin. More tulips, mixed with peonies and some wildflower sprigs. “You got a date for later?”

You laughed at his antics, face burning as Mrs Rochester cooed at the two of you from over her coffee cup. You tried to glare at the boy but it wasn’t much use, not when he was looking at you like that. Like he wanted to never, ever let you go.

“I might,” you told him suggestively. “I’ve had a few offers,” you joked.

“Yeah?” Steve grinned, brows raised. He pushed your cookie back to you, the flowers with it, the bakery suddenly smelling like a meadow. “Can I earn some points in my favour?”

—————

It’s five years later and you’ve got an old shoe box under your bed, the one you share with Steve. It’s got the dried, pressed petals from each bouquet of flowers he gifted you, the ribbon from a cookie box, ticket stubs from your first date to the cinema, a napkin from Enzo’s with a smiley face drawn in eyeliner on the corner.

There’s jewel coloured candy wrappers from the time he brought you sweets when you were sick, a postcard from his first trip away from you, dozens of Polaroids, each one dated.

A keyring, from your first apartment. Plane tickets from your first vacation together, a photobooth roll of film from your third anniversary, a velvet ring box from your fourth. A box filled with memories and keepsakes and gifts, little things that Steve would bring you when you least expected it, all of them cherished, all of them loved.

And when time ticked by and ten years had passed, you found him in your kitchen on Valentine’s morning, your daughter clinging to his knee as he tried his very best to keep a steady hand. The heart shaped cookie he’d baked was a little lopsided, iced with baby pink frosting, the sprinkles he’d let your baby girl take control of were almost taking over the cookie.

But he’d written your name in the center and just like the first Valentine’s Day you’d spent with him - almost accidentally - you split the cookie down the middle and handed half the heart to him

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington fanfiction #Steve Harrington blurb #Steve Harrington oneshot #UDWSLOVELANGUAGES

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starkeyisthelastname · 3 months

Note

stepdad rafe with a corruption kink

Reader is 18* 🎀

He wanted you from the moment he met you. You were the prettiest thing he had ever seen, greeting him in the tiniest skirt and cropped pink tank top. You hugged him tightly, bouncy tits rubbing against his chest. You smelled fucking good, like vanilla and had glitter all over your curvy body. Your ass way too fat to be wearing that skirt. He was going to ruin you.

Rafe wasn’t one for family time, much rather being doing something else. You had then asked him if he was going to watch a movie with you and your mom. He couldn’t say no to those eyes, now finding himself watching some stupid rom-dom. Your mother had long fell asleep, leaving you snuggled up to him without realizing.

Rafe had been scrolling through his phone when he felt your head tuck into bicep with a shy giggle. He looked at the tv screen on impulse, seeing that there was a sex scene. A mediocre, PG-13 one at that. He looked back down at you, snorting at the fact you were hiding from this. He was definitely curious.

“What are you hiding for, kid?” Rafe scoffed.

You blushed, looking at the screen again before looking back up into blue eyes. “That’s naughty.. Rafey.” You whispered, innocently.

Rafe felt his cock twitch as he looked down at your beautiful face. He laughed quietly, glancing over at your wine-drunk sleeping mother and then back to you. “That’s not naughty princess. When I was your age, I was doing real naughty shit.” He told you as if he was that much older than you.

Like the curious girl you were, you wondered what he meant by naughty things. Your heavy tits brushed against his arm as you turned your body towards him. “Like what?”

His chuckle sounded low and dark, his hot breath tickling your ear as he leaned in. “You don't wanna know, baby doll.” He whispered, biting your ear lobe before pulling back with a smirk.

It wasn’t but a few nights later that Rafe, had just got in bed, hand on his cock to jerk when he heard a faint knock on the door. His wife was out of town, meaning that the only person in the house was you. Slowly walking in, you noticed your step-dad wearing only a pair of boxers, the blankets pulled back.

“What are you doing in here, kid?” He asked, reaching over to turn the lamp on. “Isn't it time for you to be in bed or some shit?” His hand still on the bulge of his underwear.

You rocked back and forth on your heels, biting your lower lip as you hesitated. “I'm scared to sleep in my room tonight.” You told him, chin wobbling.

Rafe laughed, one arm coming to rest behind his head. “You are 19, and you have no problem sleeping in that room when your mom’s here.” He told you, cock hardening more as he glanced over your tight little body.

You sighed, looking down at your pedicured toes. “Can I just sleep in here, please?” You asked, voice quiet as you waited for a reply.

“Get over here.” His tone was annoyed as he moved over to the other side, leaving you his spot. You climbed into the huge bed, smiling contently as you felt better now. He let you pick something to watch, as he tried to decide if he wanted to go to the bathroom to rub one out. That wouldn't be as fun though as ruining your little self in the same bed he shared with your mother.

“You know it's too bad you are scared, acting innocent and shit. Good girls like you don’t need to be told naughty things.” He said, making you turn your attention away from the tv.

You had forgotten all about that, now curious all over again as you wanted to know. You frowned, looking at him as you crossed your arms. “But, Rafey.. I really want to know.” You begged him, bouncing on your knees.

“You wanna know, huh?” He asked amused as he watched you rapidly nodded your head. “I’ll do anything. I want to learn from you Rafey!” You pleaded back.

Rafe could have sworn he nutted right then by hearing you say those words. You made this too fucking easy to corrupt your sweet self.

“Well if you wanna sleep in my bed, you are gonna earn a spot. Yeah? Gotta teach you some respect first and then you are gonna learn to take big dick in all your holes.” He told you, giving your jaw a nudge.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #step!dad rafe #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #rafe concepts #rafe coded #rafe core #smut #rafe smut #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx smut #obx

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a66-1 · 6 days

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I NEED DRUNK SIMON DRABBLE OR SMTH ALL OKAY BUT I NEED DRUNK SIMON AAAAAAA

thx in advance 😈

(btw ur rules and regulations link isn’t working)

- HalloHello

thank you king for the idea and for the heads up

I accidentally privated the post so it'll be working right after this.

ANYWAYS

Drunk! Simon x Not so drunk! Reader

TW: Very drunk Simon. I think that's it

A/N: fangirling really hard rn

semi-proofread

You stayed up a little later becasue Simon said he'd be home soon, on a little drinking night with his buddies. He's usually good with controlling himself while drinking, but after missions? Man gets shitfaced and is all hugs and kisses and I love yous.

He's a sweetheart when drunk. Not to say he's not always a sweetheart, but when he has no inhibitions and is actually calm and not tense, he's a big old baby. His inner child really plays out.

You hear Gaz pull into your driveway, as he's usually the designated driver for the after mission drinks. You open your door to say hi to Simon but..

You see Gaz get out of the car with Simon. You open your door, waving. Simon doesn't wave back, and Gaz laughes quickly. He brings him up to the steps, and helps Simon walk up the stairs to your front door.

"Hey, darling. I'm handing you your.. Uh.. Very... Drunk boyfriend." Gaz holds back a hard laugh when Simon, his big self, stumbles forward to lean half his weight on you. You support yourself on the door confused.

"How-What-When--" You look for words but they fail you. Gaz shrugs.

"Even we don't know. Johnny told him to slow down, but.." Gaz gestures to the mess Simon is, and tips his head.

"Don't mean to leave you with him, but I got to drop off Price. Just.. Update me, yeah? I don't know why he'd drink so much," Gaz gives you a nice smile, and walks back to his car to drive off. You take Simon's hand, and try to lead him in. Simon laughs softly, a laugh you rarely hear, and he kisses your face a few times.

He gets in the house, just to crumple to the entrys mudroom seat, and leans back back into some of his own work shoes.

"Oh my, ya'... Y'r such a sore for sight eyes.." He mumbles. You tilt your head, in an 'excuse me' motion. He shakes his head, before trying to stand, and falling back.

"No no, love, a-a sight for sore eyes.. Yea' a sight.." He sighs, "I wish I had a girlfriend tha' wa-was like ya'.."

You snicker, covering your mouth. You manage to get him to the couch, and then your bed, taking off his sweaty shirt and changing his jeans to PJ pants.

"'F I ev'r 'ad a girl, 'd wan' her like ya'.." His words seemed to decline in coherence as he got more tired. You nodded slightly, smiling crookedly.

"Like me, you say? Why's that?" You kiss his temple, and he smiles warmly. His smile is the prettiest you've seen, and you love when he's even slightly drunk because he flashes it so much more.

"'M safe with ya'.. Why wouldn't I wan' a girl like ya'," he smiles, and takes your hand, and holds it.. Like a baby. His big ass hand is wrapped around your thumb.

You softly rub his scalp, as he moves himself onto your chest. You have the TV playing, watching your favorite show. Simon is mumbling.. Something, your sure, but he's just putty in your hands. Imagine: a big burly man, drunk, and infatuated in his girlfriend (but he apparently doesn't know) like a small school boy. It's adorable seeing him defenseless for once, relaxed shoulders, and his gaze is just as strong as he gazes up at you. You peck his forehead, and rub the bridge of his previously broken nose.

"Hey, Si, guess what?" You smile softly, your hand holding his jaw. He hums and tilts his head. "Did you know that I'm actually your girlfriend?"

He stares dumbfounded for a moment, before shaking his head.

"Can't be, mm... Y'r too pretty for me." He kisses your palm, and smiles.

"I promise. 2 years strong, honey." You kiss his lips softly, smiling at his cluelessness. His hands grip the sides of your shirt, looking up at you. He doesn't believe you, crazily, he's still got his insecurities.

"No no, ya'... Ya' shouldn't be.. Wasting Y'r time.." You shush him with another kiss, before his head falls onto his chest. He sighs.

"Wasting my time? Si, honey, I love spending my time on you." You kiss the crown of his head, and scratch his head. He mumbles more incoherent thoughts. He's lights out very quickly, and you follow suit a few minutes later.

The morning comes, and so does a very hungover Simon. He groans, sitting up, and wiping his jaw harshly. You were awake, on your phone when you feel him shift.

"Oh, hey baby." You smiled, and out your phone down. He groans, and nuzzles into your neck, complaining about how his head hurts.

"I know, I know. I got some advil for you." You grab the bottle from the side table, and feed him 2.

"God.. I'm.. Was I..?" He rubs his eyes and gives up, seeking comfort in your arms. Your rub his head some more, and move your fingers to rub his temples.

"You gotta stop drinking so hard, baby." You whisper, "I know you don't do it often, but.. Are the mornings worth it?"

He nods, to your surprise, and leans into your hands. "Mm.. Yeah.. It's worth it.. Cuz'.. Ya' rub my head and kiss me and.. Mm... Hug me.."

You kiss his head, and shake your own.

"Next time, just ask okay?" You get a nod as a response from him. He whispers a thank you into your neck, before drifting off to sleep until 1, like usual.

ahh this was so cute to write and I fell asleep writing it so. thats why I'm posting it in the morning.

by babes!!

-a661

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon fluff #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley call of duty #cod x reader #ghost cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #a66-1 #a66-1 asks

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paigebueckersmommy · 23 days

Text

court side - p.b

dom!paige x reader

warning: 18+, smut, p eating

you and paige had been dating 4 months, but to the outside world you were just best friends. she had gotten you courtside tickets to her game against duke. you were wearing her jersey with a pair of jeans you knew she loved on you, and with her jersey added on top of that, you knew she would be going crazy.

you arrived to the arena 30 minutes before the game was scheduled to start. the time had passed and when the player walked in, you had your back turned to where the players were coming out of talking with a fan of paige’s.

when paige had walked out you only knew because the cheers just got louder, you turned around and felt paige’s eyes on you and the smirk you loved across here face. you smiled back and started blushing. by halftime your throat hurt from cheering in your girlfriend, screaming things such has “YES KK”, “YOU GOT IT P”, “YES ASH U GOT IT” and more, supporting the rest of her teammates whom you adored. you felt paige’s eyes on you periodically through the game, wether it was because of how tight your jeans were or the way your jersey looked on her. when the red and blue confetti came down, your screams got even louder. you were so proud of paige, she was the best thing that had came into your life.

you were on the court post game and was celebrating with the team, you went back to your apartment anticipating the sound of paige’s keys jingling in your door. you were on your couch with youtube on the tv watching paige’s best highlights, you just couldn’t get enough of the way she played the sport she loved.

when you finally heard the sound of her keys i got so excited and ran to the door, i was still wearing her jersey and a pair of spandex, which she also loved to see me in. “hey mama” paige said with a grin when she opened my door, “hi baby” you say giggling as she pulls you in for a kiss. “the kiss immediately becomes heated, she picks you up to carry you to your bedroom, “your such a slut, wearing that to my game? you distracted me.” paige said, with an angry undertone, but the smirk curling up in the left side of her face. knowing she wasn’t being serious, you replied. “aw i’m so sorry, is that why you were being so agressive in the game?” “damn right, you were all i could think about during the post game interview.” paige said.

she hovers over you as she kisses you, only for you to push her off. “i’m taking control tonight” you say with a grin full of lust. “oh really? we’ll see how you do with it.” paige says cockily. you are now hovering over her in a passionate kiss. you kiss your way down her body with paige murmuring curse words your whole way down, “mm fuck please ma”, paige says with desperation. you reach her clothes pussy, already so wet. “your already this wet, hm? i thought ‘we’ll see how i do’ am i doing good?” i say with a grin of cockiness, “so damn good pretty girl, your doing so damn good” your girlfriend says already out of breath. i slip my tongue in between her folds, earning a breathy moan from paige, i giggle against her pussy with satisfaction. paige had the prettiest pussy i had ever seen, which sounds impossible but everything about it was perfect. i started sucking on her clit, earning multiple moans from paige i a row, i enter my toung into her throbbing cunt and a few min ur es later paige’s releases under me. “holy shit holy shit fuck fuck” paige says breathlessly. i come back from in between her legs, around my mouth soaked with her juices, my toung still having remnants of her cum. “holy fuck you’re so good at that,” paige says, still recovering from her orgasm. “oh really? you thought i couldn’t make you cum P?” i said, savoring paige’s taste.

i clean up my mouth and chin in the bathroom, coming back to paige i lay down next to her. i tucked her hair behind her ear, saying “i love you paige, more than anyone.” paige smiles, which makes me smile. her smile could light up any room it needed to. paige kisses you, slipping her Toung into your mouth grazing your teeth. “i love you more than you will ever know, my beautiful girl.” paige says in the soft voice that makes me practically melt.

a/n: im so sorry this was really short and my spelling is off 😭

#paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #Spotify

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toji-girl · 2 months

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can you please do a smut with a really heavily pregnant reader x tojii fushiguro? she's feelin' bad with her body and him show her he will love her and her body forever (they gonna have twins

please soft and lover boy Toji will always have my heart ldfjet

tags: 18+ only content - mdni + pregnant fem reader + explicit smut + soft! Toji

You enjoyed being pregnant thoroughly, it seemed that it was a very easy one, the morning sickness didn't last for long but you for sure were more sensitive and emotional and the further you got along the worse it got until it felt like all you did was cry over something small.

Toji would come home after work to hear you sniffling as you settled on the couch with a bowl balanced on your belly that was swollen and round with twins, a boy, and a girl who loved to kick like crazy.

As soon as he was over the threshold in the living room he was by your side rubbing your stomach leaning down to pepper his unborn babies in kisses before meeting your lips in a slow kiss. "Hi, baby."

You couldn't help but feel the warmth that spread across your face as he paid attention to you before he perched next to you. "Hi, I missed you so much. Dinner is in the oven for you." You told him softly nuzzling into him before moving to get up before he stopped you.

"Missed you too darlin' and I told you not to cook nothin' for me, you're carrying my babies so you need to take it easy woman." He grumbled appreciating the work you put in for him nonetheless.

He gave you another soft kiss before he disappeared into the kitchen groaning when he could smell his favorite, meat and offal which he brought back to the couch where he sat next to you letting you feed him despite his protesting he loved it when you did these things.

It showed that you cared for him. "I'm pregnant, I can still get up and do things." You told him before resting your head on his shoulder snuggling into him as you both watched TV, the commercials showed off a pair of models making you shift in your seat uncomfortably.

They were beautiful and didn't look like a cow you thought to yourself, and while you loved being pregnant you really didn't feel the prettiest with a round swollen belly, breasts that leaked milk, swollen ankles and you were beyond sensitive, physically and emotionally.

Toji took notice of your demeanor when you sighed.

"What's the matter?" He husked letting his hand drift down to your stomach rubbing the spot where he could see his son kicking, his foot pressing into you. You watched him unsure what to say at first.

He curled his finger under your chin tilting your head back when he looked at you, his eyes narrowed slightly. "Talk to me sweetheart, that's what I'm here for, mhm?" His voice was soft as he spoke to you.

Tears glistened in the corner of your eyes as you stared at him before bursting into tears. "I know I'm not pretty anymore and I'm-" You were silenced with a kiss that took away your breath when you pulled back.

"Let's go to the bedroom. I'll show you just how pretty you are." His tone held no room for argument as he got off the couch before helping you up, his hand on your lower back as he guided you down the hallway and into your shared room where he turned the lights on.

Any of your protests were hushed with more kisses as he helped you settle onto the bed which dipped with the combined weight, his breath fanned against you as he untied your robe. "You are the most drop-dead gorgeous woman to exist who is carryin' my babies, I'm one lucky bastard to even look at you let alone touch your sweet body, kiss those pretty lips, caress your beautiful breasts." He husked.

You were unable to look at him as heat coursed through your face until it tinged your entire being while his eyes took in your bare body that was displayed for him. He deftly spread your legs wide open to lean in and inhale your musk before he kissed your pussy slowly.

His hands roamed your body as he continued to lavish you in love and open-mouthed kisses as he made out with your cunt until it looked like glass. "So perfect, and you're all mine. I won't let you talk about yourself like this, say you're beautiful or I won't let you cum."

Toji would no doubt leave you here until you muttered those words with conviction. Your eyes shifted to look at him between your legs as he pushed two thick fingers inside you with a soft wet squelch. "Well? I'm waiting." He murmured leaning in again to taste you.

Your fingers curled into his hair as you rolled your hips the best you could. "I'm beautiful." You uttered and huffed when he pulled away to tug the belt through his loops as he continued to finger fuck you.

"Yes, you are." He replied with a smug grin as he sucked your clit into his mouth before letting go with a wet pop before he was shedding his pants and boxers letting them pool around his knees, he was getting impatient and wanted to feel your cunt snug around him.

Toji cradled the back of your head as he hunched over you careful to keep his weight off you as he stroked in and out building you to that pleasurable height only he could take you to. "Toji! Feels so good!"

He couldn't help but smile as he slowed the pace letting you feel every inch. "Feel how hard you make me? You're my sweet and pretty wife carrying our son and daughter, you do so much for me so let me take care of you, yeah? Be a good girl and cum on my cock." He urged you softly peppering your face with light kisses.

His words swirled in your head as you absorbed his praise feeling your climax burst open, your pussy milking Toji as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck listening to him whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he finally reached his own peak.

You clung to him as he waited for the both of you to come down from the high, his hands roaming your body praising each inch and telling you his favorite parts until you were sobbing in his arms only for him to shush you with more sweet words and kisses that left you dizzy.

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inez-winchester-cameron · 4 months

Note

i just know jj is the king of sweet talking you outta your panties theres just something about him that makes you wanna do what he says

cw: jj maybank x fem!reader, fluffish, jj calls reader mama (IM SORRY IT DOES SOMETHING TO ME ND I DUNNO WHY-), no explicit smut but it's implied, lots of praise

note: okay so i couldnt decide if i wanted to take this in a way that ur always horny around him or in a dub-con/coercion sort of context but i went w the first one but i wouldnt be opposed to the second one tbh. enjoy :) still accepting requests for rafe and/or jj

"god, you're so gorgeous," jj praises you as you two lay on the couch. your head on his chest as a forgotten movie plays on the tv. you two have been talking for the past hour about various topics and jj was getting back into flirting with you after a long unrelated topic, "i ever tell you how pretty you are, mama? drives me insane. got the prettiest eyes and nose and lips..so pretty..."

jj praising you isn't new, he acts like your some sort of greek goddess, created just for him. and it made you so fucking horny. you had asked jj if you guys could just snuggle because you were very tired after a long day but his words had you betraying your own questions.

"you're so perfect, all mine.." he keeps rambling on, rubbing his hand over your ass, absent-mindedly, "my pretty girl. you make me so happy, baby."

"jj- please-" you beg, getting fed up with the way he teases you.

"what, baby? what's up?"

"touch me please-"

"but you-"

"just touch me, jj!"

"alright, mama, calm down. if it's what you want.." he speaks lowly, snaking a hand into your panties, "gonna worship my goddess."

#obx #outerbanks #jj maybank thirst #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #jj maybank smut

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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

Note

imagining a scenario where Mrs. König packs her husband’s lunch so he can take it to work (or like, he can take it with him on the day he’s deployed, if that makes sense)

and like, she spoils him for lunch. literally

cuts the crusts off his sandwiches

peels his orange

little fancy shapes for his fruit??? you bet

those gummy snacks and cookies??? absolutely

and can’t forget, a lovely note (maybe even a very explicit photo >wink wink<)

and keep it up, now König expects his lunch made by Mrs. König!!!!

which is her evil plan all along because i bet one day when she’s incredibly angry when she makes his lunch…

and he opens to find:

sandwich crusts ON.

n o c o o k i e

orange is orange. unpeeled

no notes of love

fruit is fruit shaped. not dino shaped :(

now König can spend three months of deployment thinking about his actions.

I recently got addicted to those lunch box videos on TikTok, anon, I AM INVESTED!! Just being Konig's housewife, having the prettiest apron with some cute frills all around, with laces and little ribbons everywhere - it's not really practical, but you have a huge collection of those and you can afford to make them a bit messy, and dirty. You don't have a lot of things to do at home, watching TV and sitting on your laptop gets boring after the first few weeks, especially when Konig has desk duty and leaves the house for the whole day instead of spending time with you or getting on facetime while on his mission. You're cooking for him, take out so so many lunchbox ideas!! Spend too much money on various lunchboxes, on different designs, and all of those cute things you can use to cut bread and fruits, to make some elaborate shapes and slowly engage your husband to eat cute stuff instead of just sliding his card to get some slop on the base( Everyone is so so so jealous of him, he is getting rice balls with nice seasonings and little seaweed cutouts that make it look like pandas, he is having all of those cute shapes for his apples and carrots!! That giant three-story boxed with ice and metal sections...and then it all suddenly stops.

He is not just getting a dry and cold sandwich - they are literally just covered in their shop packaging, you don't even bother to cook for him anymore. sometimes you miss the days entirely, leaving him to return to the base kitchen and find out that he is unable to eat here anymore because he just knows he messed up and you're mad at him( this is the only way you can get to him - Konig isn't a cruel husband, even though he keeps you locked in the house, but he is a pretty dense one, ignoring your wishes and often making you beg for even the slightest of privileges, like getting out of the house to do your garden, or go to some nice cafes and actually see people. He will apologize profusely, knowing how much he hurt you( his heart still in the wrong place, he don't understand why would you want to join some dumb book club when you can spend time at home, but he is forced to allow you to go out, just so he could see his pretty housewife smiling again, caring for him like a proper girl should

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig

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luveline · 11 months

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

part six | chapter list

summary you’re a not so single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue movie night, a good sandwich, a better cry, and the best birthday party ever. [23k]

warnings afab!reader, fem!reader, mom!reader, mention of implied period/menstruation, money worries, unhealthy eating habits (not finding the time), food insecurity, physical/emotional fatigue. fluff heavy, love confessions, emotional hurt/comfort, idiots in love, slight angst.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie's carrying so much stuff he can barely see over the top of it, let alone open your front door. He stands fumbling at the top of the porch steps, hoping you'll hear the sounds of his arrival and come to help.

You must be in your room or the bathroom, as no one comes to save him. Eddie can hear the echo of the TV from the living room, kid's cable or one of Junie's VHS tapes, as well as the pulling sound of the pipes under the trailer. A faucet must be running.

When he finally manages to open the door, he's expecting to see you in the kitchenette with your back to him, humming as you clean the dishes and in your own little world.

You're not there, to his surprise.

Eddie puts all of his things on the kitchen table, takes off his shoes, and goes looking for you. There aren't many rooms to search, only your bedroom and the bathroom. He can hear running water the closer he gets to the bathroom, so he knocks on the door.

"Sweetheart, you in there?"

The tap turns off abruptly. The door opens, and Eddie frowns at the lack of you, finding only empty air. He looks down to find Junie standing there in the gap, short and small and completely soaked.

He can tell immediately what she's been up to, some mischievous playing while you're distracted elsewhere. She has a look on her face like she's both thrilled to see him and sorry to be caught.

Eddie bends down. “Hi, sweetheart. What are you doing?" he asks.

"Cold!" She giggles, wielding her wet palms at him threateningly.

He takes her little hands in his. "Freezing!" he agrees.

Eddie pulls a towel off of the hand towel rail and quickly rubs it up and down her wet arms. She's still in her clothes from daycare, which isn't necessarily unlike you. If she's having a shower tonight, you'll be waiting until after to change her into her clean pyjamas.

He checks his watch with a frown. It's well past bath time.

"Where's mom?" he asks.

"She's sleeping," Junie whispers, bringing a finger to her lips. "Shh."

Ah. That makes sense. He hangs the towel back on the rail and takes one of Junie's still-cold hands in his, walking her to your bedroom, where the door is closed. You wouldn't have closed it, not while June was in another room.

Eddie squeezes her hand fondly. She's becoming quite the deviant. He wonders if it's his fault.

He opens the door and sighs when he sees you, feeling sorry for his girl, all curled in on yourself sitting on the bedroom floor with a pile of unfolded laundry in your lap. He can imagine the ache brewing in your back, worse than the usual and persistent twinge you've mentioned between your shoulder blades.

Eddie kneels down beside you. Junie follows suit without instruction. Even her socks are wet, her soggy heel cold against his thigh.

"Y/N," he says softly, easing his hand under your chin.

He hooks his fingers behind your ear and lifts your heavy head, leaning forward to straighten you up. You rouse with a frown.

"What time is it?" you ask after a moment. Your voice barely comes out.

"Nearly seven. Are you feeling okay?" he asks, pushing your shoulders against the bed behind you for support, his hand falling to the juncture of your neck. Your skin is clammy. Your brow twists. "You coming down with something again?"

"Just tired," you mumble.

You close your eyes and cover them with one hand.

There's something to be said about it, how that, a few months ago, you would've sprung up to finish what you were doing, explaining to him in rushed tones that you don't usually fall asleep like that, you would never leave Junie unattended: he knows already. You're a parent, not a superhero (though sometimes he thinks you're both) —you aren't infallible. You get tired, and you try your best. Eddie wouldn't ever think that you don't. He certainly wouldn't think you're a bad parent for falling asleep sitting up in the middle of a chore, and you know that now. You know you can sit there and gather your bearings without explanation. That he'll look after you and Junie whenever you need him to.

A little shimmer of pride brims at the realisation.

He rubs your throat with his thumb before sitting back. Junie climbs into his lap and leans her soaking front into his chest, cold enough that Eddie quickly covers her with his arms in an attempt to warm her.

"What have you been up to?" he asks her.

She hums, pleased, and babbles about the water. "It dwas… it was cold and fast," she emphasises.

"You're not supposed to be in the bathroom without mommy."

"She's sleeping," Junie says quizzically. Like the rules don't apply when you're not awake to uphold them.

"I'm not sleeping," you say.

"You're still not supposed to be in there without me or mom," Eddie says, giving her a playful glare. "Now you're all wet."

Junie buries her face in his neck, hiding from his mild scolding and possibly trying to soak up some of his warmth. You rub your eyes.

You're in your work uniform with dishevelled hair, but you look cute anyhow.

Eddie pats Junie's back, unperturbed by her damp clothes. She's warming up the longer she sits there.

He supposes her willingness to simply sit and be cuddled is a conditioning of your unending affection. You're always praising and kissing and stroking her hair out of her face, always carrying her around when she could easily walk. You're ridiculously touchy, like a sponge for love. You want it just as often as you give it. He and Junie are both happy to humour you.

Eddie takes the initiative. He gives June a toss to the middle of your made bed and smiles when she giggles, grabbing a change of clothes for her from the wardrobe, and then a change of clothes for you. He's almost completely familiar with your wardrobe these days, having made multiple adoring contributions to it. Selfishly, maybe, he grabs a shirt he knows he got you, as well as a newer pair of pyjama pants.

You still haven't managed to stand when he finishes, but you've turned to see Junie, making kissy faces at her as you tickle the sole of her foot.

"My girl's all wet," you're saying, not a lick of tiredness in your voice. You hide it from her easily. "What trouble have you been up to while mommy slacked off, huh? You're soooo bad, I'm gonna have to lock you up."

Junie giggles thickly as she crawls toward you. You can't reach her foot when she turns but you aren't bothered, tickling her arms and sides instead. You and Junie stay like that for a second, eye to eye, Junie on her front and you hiding your mouth in the sheets like a cowboy shootout, waiting for someone to give in.

Junie shrieks with laughter and you sit up in time to stop her from headbutting you, gathering her up into your arms to kiss her forehead.

"Sorry," you say, to Eddie's displeasure. "Mommy's silly, huh, falling asleep when you're still awake?"

"She's human," he corrects lightly.

"Baby," you say, like you're going to say more. You don't, you just smile at him.

"Do you want me to have her? You can shower by yourself, have some 'me-time'?"

"No… she needs a bath. Don't you?" you ask her.

"Do you want me to–"

"Eddie," you say, struggling to stand with Junie in your arms, "I don't want anything. Except…"

He bounds the two steps it takes to get his arms around you both and plants a huge kiss on your cheek. You visibly relax, better when he presses a much softer one against the corner of your mouth.

"Except a kiss?" he asks into your skin.

You sound flustered, "Except a kiss. Another one. Please."

He pulls back enough for you to turn into his kiss and align your lips properly for a chaste peck.

"Hello," he says.

"Hi, baby," you say, shy even now.

"Hi." He steals another kiss. Junie makes a noise of offence and he dots one on her appled cheek. Her lips perk into a smile. "Girls. Let's get our movie night back on track. I brought presents."

You groan and Junie cheers. Finally getting to grips with certain words even if she hasn't said them aloud yet, Junie is well aware as to what presents are. She gets enough of them (to your chagrin).

"What did I say? Presents are for special occasions," you say mildly.

"Movie night is–"

"Not a special occasion."

"Kind of is. Especially if we make it a tradition. If you really don't want them then I'll take them back," he says. He really means it, no guilt trip involved.

You look down at Junie, back up at him, and puff out a theatrical breath.

"Sorry, I've made it hard to say no," he says.

"Don't be sorry. Thank you for the presents, really. We'll look after a shower, okay?" you ask, darting up to give him a quick kiss and then nudging him aside.

"I'll make dinner real quick while you shower and you can open your presents after that." He catches your sleeve. "Deal?"

"Deal."

Another round of kisses are exchanged. Kisses like a first love, excited and quick and wanting a little bit more each time.

You leave for the bathroom to set up Junie's fold out baby bath in the shower and fill it with water. He smiles on his way back down the slim hall to the kitchen at the sound of her laughter, hidden beneath the hurried rain of the shower head.

Eddie makes two cans of vegetable soup with pasta shapes in a saucepan on the stove, cooking it through and letting it simmer while he waits for you.

The bathroom door opens. He gives it a minute before pouring the soup into bowls, knowing it'll take you a while to powder and lotion you and your baby, especially when getting her into jammies lately has been like clothing an eel.

A few minutes later, Junie comes sprinting down the hall quick as a lightning bolt, barefoot to stop from crashing face first into a cabinet. You have no clue why, but lately she's extremely energetic. You've done some more baby-proofing around the house to avoid injury, moving tables completely out of her way and sticky taping your rug in the living room flat to the floor so she can't slip over it at speed, but nothing works as well as bare feet for good grip. Not even dragon themed grippy socks, Eddie laments. They looked so cool.

He pours soup into three bowls and adds a splash of cold water from the faucet to Junie's, giving it a good stir and dipping the tip of a clean pinky finger in it to check it's not hot.

"Hi, trouble," he greets, following her into the living room with her bowl. "You want some dinner?"

He doesn't give her much chance to answer, grabbing her up in his free arm with a heaving groan and carrying her like a curled weight to the sofa. She's giggly to a fault, happy to be shuttled from one place to another if there's a kiss or some food promised at the end.

He sets her down, puts the bowl on his thigh, and pulls out the bib he'd tucked into his pocket to secure it nice and loose around her neck. He's careful not to get any of her hair in the velcro.

"Tada!" he says. "Let's get eating."

Junie's amazing. Eddie lifts a spoon and her lips part expectantly. He could let her eat by herself, she's old enough and she's getting much better with a spoon, but he wants to avoid the mess and get her fed quickly. She's eaten every last morsel by the time you emerge. He's more pleased than he started, because you trust him to do this while you get dressed without rushing, and you'll allow yourself the luxury of ten minutes alone.

Your footsteps sound across the kitchen. You turn into the living room, your face tacky with something, and even from the middle of the room Eddie can smell your deodorant and moisturisers, maybe even the lingering scent of conditioner on your hands.

"My poor baby was so hungry," you say upon seeing Junie's empty bowl. You kiss the top of her head. "Sorry, Junie. Good thing Eddie's here to take such good care of you, hmm?" You kiss her cheek. You lean over her head and kiss Eddie's. He's about to start running a temperature, you're so affectionate tonight. "Thank you."

"Don't," he says gently.

You straighten up. Like you've been caught in a trap, you stop suddenly and peer down at him, hiding your smile with a pout. He's already seen it, but he lets you get away with it.

"Your bangs are growing long again," you say, brushing them away from his forehead.

You comb down the lengths of his curls with your fingers, partitioning the tangles with care.

"Maybe you can trim 'em for me tomorrow," he says.

Your eyes light up. "Yeah, for sure."

"Good. Our soup is getting cold."

"Oh, gotcha. I'll warm it up. You want more, junebug? More soup?"

Junie doesn't answer, distracted by the TV. She's stopped bothering to support herself, her weight splayed over Eddie's thigh, her soup-stained cheek dangerously close to his pants. He has to admit that since knowing you a lot of his clothes have been stained irredeemably. He doesn't worry about the sweatpants, though. It's only soup.

Eddie thumbs hair out of her face and smiles.

"She could probably eat more."

You know it already, but he says it because it feels nice to say. Plus, you like it. You'd told him so, a whispered admission sometime last week.

I like that someone else worries about her, you'd said, your lips soft on his naked bicep, your face hidden by the lack of light and a few of his rogue curls. I like that you take some of the load. I'm sorry if that's not fair.

Baby, he'd said, voice gritty with how much he meant it, it's not unfair. I'm happy to do it. And I know you're not expecting it from me.

No, you'd said quickly.

I know. He'd kissed the top of your head, laughed against your skin, his breath fanning every which way. Don't think about it like that, like it's costing me something.

I'm not saying it costs anything. I know it does, even if you don't feel it. And I'm not saying she isn't easy to love 'cos she is, but loving someone and taking care of them are different, and I know you want to do it–

Eddie had cut you off, sitting up enough that you'd been forced to take your weight off of his shoulder where you'd been laying down across the well-loved couch. He'd felt a familiar spring under his thigh as he shifted, the TV painting your face in a milky white that had your eyes shining like gemstone.

I do want to do it, he'd affirmed. You guys– you're my girls. Eddie could've told you he loved you right then and there. He's sure you already knew. Why are you worrying about this stuff?

Have to worry about something. These days my options are slim pickings, thanks to you.

He'd pulled you in for a hug, trying to squeeze the misplaced gratitude out of you uselessly. He's happy you're happy, happy you feel like he's draining your impossible levy, but he doesn't want you thinking you owe him anything. That's not why he's with you.

You trek back into the kitchen with Junie's empty bowl and spoon, your pyjama pants slightly too long for you and dragging across the floor. You hadn't been with him when he bought them —he eyeballed. They fit around your waist and thighs just fine, but both of the pairs he got that day are too long.

Eddie wipes Junie's face with the end of her bib and reluctantly hands her over when you return, reheated soup in hand. You swap him for his own bowl and feed Junie whatever she wants from yours, blowing on each spoonful as you go.

"How was work today, sugarpea?" he asks between bites of pasta.

"No," you say immediately.

"Not a sugarpea fan?"

"Not when you say it like that," you tease.

"What about sweetcheeks?" He grins at your grim expression. "It's not that different to sweetheart, 'n' you like that one."

You glance at him over Junie's head. "I think I'm used to sweetheart. You say it enough. Sweetcheeks is like a foreign object my brain is rejecting on the grounds that it is super duper weird." You smile as you talk and your voice takes shape through it, all smooth and silky and warm.

"Honeybuns?" he tries, nearly choking on a pasta shape when you laugh. He can't help himself; whenever you laugh he instinctively wants to join in.

"Work was fine," you say, stealing a big spoonful of soup. Junie huffs. "It was good, really, I got an amazing tip from Bernard, you know Bernard?"

"Bernard," he repeats menacingly.

"Your competition. He gave me twenty dollars 'n' told me to put it in the Junie jar, so that was awesome. Now my little lady's gonna get some new shoes."

You don't like handouts you haven't worked for. It's why his gifts can be hard to accept, as much as you appreciate them. Eddie insisted months ago that being friends was 'doing things for other people', and letting people do things for you —as in, letting him buy you small presents is actually a service to him and a credit to you.

You don't necessarily like it. You like presents, most people do, but you don't like his spending money on you because of some ill-conceived notion that you can't deserve them. It's why Eddie doesn't go out and spend his wages on the things that you want willy-nilly. It would embarrass you, put you out, and that's the last thing he wants. So while he's in a place where he's fortunate enough to have disposable income, and he doesn't think twice about spending it on the people he loves, he does think about how it makes you feel.

But boyfriend privileges are very real. The step up he took from a friend who's suspiciously affectionate to an actual proper boyfriend is large and luxurious —he gets away with doing a lot more than he could beforehand. Eddie can put gas in your car, pay for breakfast, bring by a gallon of laundry detergent when you're running low without a word of protest. It's little things, and they mean a lot to him.

He thinks they might mean a lot to you, too.

So he would buy Junie new shoes if she needed them, but she doesn't. If she did, you would've got them already. You want her to have new shoes, and you're saving up for a nice fancy pair that she'll grow out of within the year. You should take pride in that. There's nothing so sweet as treating your daughter.

"How come I can't contribute to the Junie jar?" he asks in a playful whine.

"Don't start with me, Munson. You tipped me ten dollars for a coffee yesterday, don't think I didn't notice. And the coffee was for me," you say, smiling still.

He grins down at his soup and kicks his socked foot against yours.

"That wasn't me," he lies. With no effort involved, the end result is lackluster.

"Yeah, well, it wasn't Davey," you say.

Davey's a grumpy regular. He never tips.

"It could've been. Maybe he had a change of heart. And, biassed as I may be, you are a very pretty waitress. I'd tip you if I was allowed," he flirts.

You turn the spoon in your hand so the well is toward your chest and pretend to load it at him like a trebuchet.

He wimps out, "June, mom's attacking me! Mommy's trying to get soup on me!"

"Am not!" you protest.

The damage is already done. Junie, her face a mirror of your own but smaller and with eyes a little bigger in their framing, glares at you and tries to take your spoon, babbling an outraged, "No no no!"

You make a funny squeaking sound and drop the spoon back in the bowl, your lips parted in mock shock.

"You don't really believe him, do you?" you ask, your bubbly talk saccharine. "Baby, I'm just playing."

She's your number one fan. The sound of your voice would win back her affections by itself, but your lovely smile, your hand behind her back, it's instantaneous. Junie forgets all about the imminent danger he's in and puts her hand on your chin. You close your eyes.

"Mommy, can we have kisses?" she asks.

"How many?" you ask, delighted. It's rhetorical. Eddie finishes his soup and you kiss her cheeks so many times he reckons you'll have dry lips, humming, "Mwah, mwah, mwah," as you go.

He'll make you something else tonight to make up for how little soup you've had. It's not a substantial meal either way, and he knows Benny feeds you well at work, but it's been a long time since lunch rush.

Junie wiggles out of your grip and drops to the floor, clearly having had enough kisses.

Eddie doesn't see what she's doing from the kitchenette where he's carried all the dirty dishes, but he listens intently to her babble talk, new words popping up in her chatter every day. She says, "Mr. Bear," and "pretty," and "let's go!" between gibberish.

"Oh, hey!" Eddie calls to be heard over the running water of the sink and the TV.

He can see your head through a gap between the counter and the cabinets attached to the ceiling. You turn at his voice, arms across the back of the sofa, chin resting on your hands. "Yeah?"

"She said, 'fast'!" he tells you. "When I grabbed her from the bathroom, she said the water was cold and fast. That's a new one."

"The bathroom. I need a lock. Do you have anything?"

"Do I have a lock? Maybe."

You nod hurriedly, eyebrows pinched in stress . "It's an accident waiting to happen. I had no idea she could reach that handle, I don't want her in there when I can't see her."

"Don't worry, we'll nab one of those child locks from the store tomorrow if it bothers you."

You're quiet for a moment. "I shouldn't have fallen asleep."

"You couldn't help it," He puts a dish down on the rack. "It's not a crime to nod off, I do it all the time. It was an accident."

"It doesn't matter. She can't be alone with water, it's dangerous."

"You said it yourself, you had no idea she could even get in there. Now you know, you'll make sure it doesn't happen again." He turns off the faucet, trying to snub your self-annoyance before it twists into something cruel. "Yeah?"

You hum.

He wipes his hands dry on a rag and slides around the kitchen counters, back into your living room. Your eyes flash wide as he approaches. You know what he's gonna do, tucking your arms away as he drops into your lap. "Woah," you groan.

"You're a good mom," he says seriously, shuffling back so his weight is on a couch cushion rather than your tired thighs. "I mean it, you're a good mom. You fell asleep. It happens, okay? Don't punish yourself for something that didn't happen. We can jam the door closed with a sock or something tonight, and I promise you she won't get in there again."

You bunch one of his legs in your lap to rest your mouth against his knee. He holds himself up with one arm, watching you relax with relief.

"She said 'fast'?" you ask, turning your face so your cheek is on his knee instead. Her building vocabulary excites you endlessly. You've been practicing descriptors.

"She said that the water was cold and fast," he says. She would know, she made your floor into a slip and slide.

"She's a genius." You rub your cheek against his pants. "I knew it."

He flops back into the couch cushions, arms behind his head. "Yeh. You can't help yourself, can you? Making that girl cooler every day."

You pinch his thigh. "Lay off."

He's serious and joking at the same time. It's a very cheesy thing to say and it isn't untrue. It's the juxtaposition of every parent, he supposes, the insurmountable task they perform on such a grand scale. It looks impossible, and yet people have been managing it for thousands of years anyways. At varying levels of success, sure.

He hasn't lied to you once. You're a good mom and you're raising a sweetheart, and while neither one of you could care less about Junie being an actual 'genius', singing her praises is a pass time you love.

He isn't tired enough to fall asleep sitting up, yet slouched down as he is with your hands on his legs stroking slow lines feels like a blanket has been thrown over him, fresh from the dryer. Speaking of…

"Can I give you the gifts now? I promise they're not too much," he says.

"Can I tell you something first?" He nods. You hug his knee to your chest and look him straight in the face, unabashed. "You have a really nice voice, Eddie. Listening to you talk, I don't know. You could read me the yellow pages and I think I'd like it."

"Wait, are you flirting with me?" he asks, making a show of sitting up slowly.

"It's nice and deep. Not too much, but it is. And you say things in such a particular way sometimes, it makes me want to smile even when I've had a garbage day." You stroke down his thigh with a fingertip. "Everything about you is nice, but I wanted to tell you."

"Thank you," he says warmly. "I'm glad you think so. 'Cos when I'm around you, all I want to do is talk. And I mean that in the best way." Eddie sits up, bending at the waist so he can kiss your cheek. He doesn't move away immediately, pressing the bridge of his nose flat to your skin as he continues, "I want to hug you really badly right now, like, a make-your-spine-click kind of hug. Think I can do that?"

"Yes, please, it's not even hurting. You can hug me as much as you want."

Eddie shuffles forward on the couch to be near you, his cheek smushed against your ear as he wraps his arms around you in a hug. He goes over your shoulders. Even if it isn't hurting today he doesn't want to inspire any backache, and you return his hugging eagerly.

You smell like your favourite lotion. He breathes it in.

"You're sniffing me," you murmur.

"You smell nice," he murmurs back.

"You smell nice, too."

"I smell like sweat."

"A little."

He encourages your face into the crook of his neck, beaming. "You're so weird," he dotes.

"Sorry," you say, rather shyly.

You're not shy because he said you're weird —he says that stuff all the time and when he means it, it's adoring— you're sorry because you're genuinely embarrassed that you like how he smells, sweat included. He wants to kiss you forever.

"Don't you dare be sorry. It's my irresistible musk."

"Ew," you say, "ew, ew, ew. Musk is a gross word."

"Yeah?" he asks, giving your cheek a quick stroke with the side of his knuckle.

"Yes. Definitely banned around my daughter."

He snorts. "Like it's a curse word."

You run your hands in sync up and down his side, his t-shirt hiking up with each swipe. Your eyes have softened and renewed you, your earlier fatigue a memory without evidence. The fine wrinkles at the corners of your eyes smooth away.

"I'm so happy," you whisper.

He takes your elbows into his hands, thumbs rubbing at the crooks fondly. "Me too."

Your hands fall to his waist. Eddie's never been more content; he's so grateful to feel as he does, whole at your side, affectionate and aflame and in love with your every attribute. Your timid admission, your knowing smile.

"Can I give you your present now?" he asks.

You lean back into the couch, mumbling, "Oh, if you must," with a pleased smile.

"I must, my lady. It's imperative that you and your charge receive the most splendiferous of gifts in haste."

"Then so be it, my liege."

He's morphing you into a nerd one corny joke at a time.

Eddie stands up. His movement grabs Junie's attention from her toys and make-believe, the small girl climbing to her feet. She hops toward him, hands out in expectancy to be picked up.

"Two seconds, June, let me get your present first."

His bags are exactly where he left them on the kitchen table. He rummages through them to make sure he's presenting the right gift to the right girl, before yanking the present from the bag it came in and putting it out of Junie's reach.

"Here," he says, sliding his hand under the gift's cardboard fastening and ripping it open.

The blanket he's bought for her, big, gorgeously soft and made up of pastel pinks and oranges, puffs out and reaches the floor. Junie strokes it.

"It's so soft!" he encourages. "Isn't it soft, sweetheart? This is going to keep you nice and cozy tonight for our movie. Do you want me to wrap you up?"

He drapes it around her shoulders. Little kids are temperamental even if they aren't bad-spirited, and chances are that she doesn't even want it on her, but she smiles as he wraps it around her and lets out a happy line of sounds.

"Do you like that?" he asks, beaming.

She drops her cheek to her shoulder and rubs it, her eyes slipping closed in happiness.

"Eddie," she says sweetly, "it's soft." She says 'soft' clumsily, with lots of weight on the 'oft'.

Her adorableness often sucker punches him. He kind of assumed he'd felt everything there was to feel, but there's a particular kind of awe that comes with watching her grow, and experiencing nice things. She's endearingly enticed by the material, putting her hand under the blanket so she can pull it to her face and feel it against her nose. He can't see more than the corner of her mouth, but he can tell from the way her cheek apples that she's smiling at hum.

"I'm glad you like it, junebug."

"Will you tell him thank you?" you ask, hand on the wall, looking down at her with a similar fondness as he is. "Say, 'thank you, Eddie'."

Junie has a different plan. She pulls as much of the blanket as she can to her chest and waddles toward him, where she leans her face into his legs. Eddie covers the short breadth of her shoulders with one hand.

"Thank you," Junie says.

"Of course, sweetheart. You're very welcome. I'm so happy, you look really comfy. Now we can watch movies in style."

He turns to his second bag and yanks out another blanket, this one a solid dark grey. He doesn't know if he should, but he does the same as he'd done for Junie, tearing the cardboard fastening off of the blanket and shaking it out, before beckoning you forward and wrapping it around your shoulders. You smile, and you look like you could cry, not that you will but you could, your lips pressed together and your eyebrows gently furrowed.

He takes your face into both hands.

"That's an acceptable present?" he asks.

You turn your head, your lips pressed to the base of his thumb. He strokes the top of your cheek, the skin there smooth and dewy, fresh from the shower.

"Do you want a kiss?" he asks knowingly.

You fluster at being read that easily, "No, I… yeah, I do, I do, don't be smug, please…"

"I'm not smug, I wanna kiss you just as bad as you want me to, I'd crawl into your skin if I could–"

Your laugh is a shock, your chest shaking where it touches his, and he can't take it anymore. He kisses your smile, his lips clumsy and too eager, a total mismatch as you giggle into his touch.

He gives your cheek a good rub with his thumb.

"Thank you," you say.

He shakes his head. "Don't mention it."

"This is nice. Did you get one for yourself?"

He did. "I'd love to say I got one for myself 'cos I thought you'd accept it easier, but I wanted one. They're so soft."

"So soft," Junie says, slipping on the ends of her blanket as she wobbles toward your embrace. "Up?"

—

While the blankets that Eddie's brought for you are, in fact, so soft, they're much too warm when the three of you are laying on top of one another. Eddie's like a superheater to your left, Junie's a hot water bottle on your chest, and your hair is damp with sweat.

You wipe your face with your sleeve and sit up on the couch, hand behind Junie's dozing back.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, pulling his attention from the movie.

"Too hot."

"Pass me the baby." He says 'baby' dramatically, like she's one of the rings from his books, or the prodigal child.

You hand her over. She mumbles something but settles, her nose jabbed into Eddie's clavicle. He pats her back.

You shrug off the blanket and pull the collar of your shirt away from your neck, fanning yourself lightly. When you're feeling less like you're cooking you stand up, squinting in the dark. Now you've moved the table to the side of the room you don't have to worry about catching your calf on a corner, but it's still a death trap in here when you haven't put away the toys.

"Do you want another drink?" you ask.

"Please. Coke if there's any left," Eddie says.

You walk to the kitchen on tired legs to make two drinks. You hadn't wanted to think about it but you're really hungry, your stomach hurting with it. You open the fridge for the bottle of coke and cast your eyes over the contents. There's more fresh food than you're used to having, but tired as you are, you can't think of anything to make. Something quiet and easy for the late hour would be nice.

You hear as Eddie follows you in. You look over your shoulder to see if he's brought Junie with him. He's alone.

"You didn't eat much," he says.

"I know, that's what I'm looking for."

"I," he says, melodic, his elbow up as he scratches behind his neck, "will make you whatever you want."

"Really?" you ask.

"Sure. Or I could go get you something?"

"I don't want you driving alone at night," you say.

"It's not dangerous."

"No, I know, but I don't want you to leave."

"Good. Me neither." He joins you in front of the fridge. "I could make you a huge sandwich," he says. "I got some of the fancy cheese at my place."

"I'm not eating Wayne's cheese."

"I paid for it," he insists. "No, look, you have cheddar, pepperjack, we don't need fancy cheese. Let me make you a sandwich."

You slip your hand behind his back and squeeze.

Eddie kind of grabs you, all jokes, and pushes you down into a chair like he thinks you're trying to run away. "Stay there, fiend," he demands.

He makes you a sandwich. It's a simple pleasure to watch. He washes his hands, grabs all the fillings, and makes it carefully. It's too much care to be put into a sandwich. It makes your chest ache.

He browns it in the frying pan and presents it to you with little fanfare. Odd, for him.

"What, no, ta-da? No kiss?" you ask.

"I was trying to keep it classy," he says, bending down to kiss the skin shy of the corner of your eye. "Now eat, please. I worry about you."

He doesn't need to ask. He likely couldn't stop you. You're glad he's already your boyfriend, otherwise the speed with which you take your first bite might have put him off.

"Do you want half?" you ask.

"No, you eat that whole thing."

He puts your glass right next to you on the table. There's something unsaid in his gaze, not judgement but close.

"I've been busy," you defend.

"How much did you even eat today? You had breakfast, right?"

You nod, taking a sip of your drink, and size him up. "Munson."

"Did you, sweetheart? Honestly?"

"I did! Eddie, please don't worry," you say, pushing him toward the open chair rather than let him crowd you. "You know I'm eating properly, you feed me ten times a week."

Eddie sits, propping his foot up on the chair by your thigh, and stretches his arms across the table toward you. He flicks your elbow.

"I don't like thinking about you going hungry," he says.

"Then it's a good thing I'm not." You take a showy bite of sandwich.

"Promise?" he asks.

"Yes!" You pat his shin. "Promise promise. It was a busy day, but I had oatmeal and Benny made me a fancy salad, and now this. I'm all fed, thanks to other people. I'm lucky like that."

"You're not lucky. People want to take care of you because you take such good care of them," he says. You like how he says it, like it's no big deal.

"I just wish you'd take good care of yourself," he finishes, digging his heel into your thigh.

You squirm away from his attack, ditching the last couple of bites of your sandwich in favour of the paper towel he'd brought with your plate to wipe your fingers and mouth.

Clean, you get up from your chair before you can stop yourself and sit on one of his thighs, careful not to rest your full weight there.

"You're being dramatic," you say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, nose close to his and getting closer. "I love that you worry about me, but you don't need to. Think of all the energy you're wasting on me that could be spent on your music, or your games."

Eddie pulls you into his lap properly.

"It's one game," he says, hooking you against him so you can't slide off of his legs. "Fine. I won't worry about you so much if you finish your sandwich. Cool?"

"Don't let me fall," you mumble, stretching back in his arms to grab your plate.

You slide it across the table, pick up the last quarter of your sandwich, and eat it there in his arms. He looks ridiculously happy to watch.

The night passes like that. No matter where you go it's in his arms. He calls you his barnacle and you like him so much you let it slide. You only part to carry Junie to bed, sliding her into her toddler bed with all the precision of a professional.

Eddie gets his hands on you soon after, pressing your back to his front as you brush your teeth half-asleep in the mirror opposite, his minty kisses pressed generously to the side of your head.

You don't remember getting into bed. When you wake up, it's to the sounds and smells of French toast, or Eddie's approximate version, a spatula scraping against the sides of your frying pan and Eddie singing a children's song. You scrunch your eyes together and groan as you turn into the sheets, hiding your head under the pillow from the noise. You love them, you're tired —maybe in half an hour you'll want to join in.

You're not sure how much time passes when you wake a second time. Rings slide across the curtain pole, quiet footsteps smushed into the carpet. You turn onto your side and pry your eyes open, lashes barely parted. A bleary slice of Eddie's back takes centre stage.

He shakes out Junie's blankets and tucks them in. He plumps up her pillow. Gentle, he rights her fallen teddies and sits them up one by one like proper gentlemen. His expression is handsome but blank.

Squared, Eddie moves away from Junie's bed to your forgotten pile of laundry. You'd fallen asleep folding it, and the unfolded stuff will no doubt be full of creases. He gathers everything into your laundry basket and heads for the door, not having looked your way once. You smile to yourself and close your eyes again, totally at ease.

The door creaks. You haven't managed to open your eyes when a hand is on your shoulder and pressing you into the mattress gently. Eddie kisses your forehead, before dipping down to rest his own against it, sealing in the kiss. He laughs under his breath.

"This is nice," you say, lips like glue, voice an incoherent mumbling.

"I thought you were awake," he says.

"I'm not."

He rubs your shoulder, a long and loving sweep. "Stay in bed as long as you want to. Me and June are gonna go outside and try soccer."

You groan and throw your arms around him tiredly, "No," you say, "you better help me up so I can change her diaper."

Eddie helps you sit up. You blink blink blink, and rub your eyes, and when you can see again you stand up. He follows you into the hall. You don't question it when he starts to clean you up from behind, stroking your hair and pulling your pyjama pants back up the hip they'd been falling down.

"I feel like I've been run over," you tell him.

You feel heaps better when you see the main section of the trailer.

The kitchen is clean. Sparkling. The living room is the same when you peer around to find Junie. She's standing on the couch, Eddie clearly having brushed her hair, the mess of the night before nowhere to be seen. He's taken care of everything while you slept.

You about to turn around and collapse on him in a hug, but Junie sees you and starts talking, taking big bounding steps across the couch cushions until she's at the end of the one closest to you. You step forward to greet her.

"Hellooo, lovely girl," you say, dragging her up the length of your chest to meet her eyes. "Eddie says you're gonna play soccer outside. Do you think that sounds fun?"

"I want mommy," she murmurs.

"I'm right here," you say. She pouts. "What, you want me to come and play soccer?" you ask. "I'll play soccer, baby, just let me get you changed first."

She isn't happy, but she perks up when she's clean again, double when you squeeze her into a dress and tell her how nice she looks.

"Eddie did your hair already, so there's nothing left for me to do," you say sweetly, brushing your hands down the length of her skirt. "You're all ready!"

Junie is less ready for soccer than you thought. Eddie runs down to his home to get a ball and you, having changed and eaten, sit down outside in the growing grass surrounding your trailer on a towel. The sun shines, the sky is a beautiful ocean blue, and Junie does not want to get up from your lap.

You're content to let her sunbathe, applying sun cream to her face, neck, arms and legs just in case and which she abhors, wriggling and whining as you coo at her. She calms as you rub it in.

"You'll thank me one day," you say with a small laugh.

Junie goes quiet. It's not like her, she's a babbler, but you sit in it with her rather than talk for a moment.

She looks like you.

She's happy, and loved. So much has changed since you moved here. She was always loved unconditionally, and nearly always happy, but she's growing. You both are.

You thought moving here would be good for her, but you never stopped to think it might be good for you too. Eddie terrifies you, or rather the idea of losing him does. You have these moments where you think about him and plot the possibilities, that one day you'll be waiting for him to come calling and he won't, or one day Junie will ask you where he is and you'll have nothing good to say. It's a catastrophisation if you've ever had one —you trust Eddie, you've let him into almost every aspect of your life. It goes without saying that you trust him not to hurt you.

But trusting him doesn't mean you can stop yourself from worrying about the future. You told him already, maybe it's being a mom or something, that your brain chooses a new thing to needle at every day, and you roll with it the best that you can.

Junie smiles at you.

"Mom… so pretty," she says. You stop short.

She does this sometimes. You've taught her a lump sum of conversational tidbits from everyday life. Like, "Don't touch, baby," often referring to something hot, or, "Wow! Look at you!" when she's in new clothes. Every time she says one back to you it makes you laugh, but this one hits you like a freight train, right in the heart.

"You think I'm pretty?" you ask.

You don't know if Junie even knows what pretty is. You say it to her so often, it might feel like a strand of "I love you," or even, "Good morning." Maybe she doesn't get it.

She sits up in your lap and reaches up for your face with both hands. You bend to let her.

"Pretty," she says again. She squeezes your cheek.

Maybe she doesn't understand. Or maybe she does. Yeah, she does. Your baby thinks you're pretty. You pour love into her unfailingly and she's giving you some of her own.

"You really think that?" you ask, smiling in her little palms. "Gorgeous girl, I love you. I love you love you."

"I love you," she says back.

"You do?" you ask, delighted and selfish because of course she loves you. You wanna hear it again.

"Yes." She drags the 's' sound, her eyes crinkled up. "Mommy," she says.

"Yeah?"

Her hands fall back onto her chest, and she sags against your thigh. "Mom?"

"What, baby? You want something? You want some juice?" She doesn't respond. "You want something yummy to eat?"

She says a string of words you don't understand. Not a lick of sense start to end. You sigh, duck your lips to her neck, and blow the biggest raspberry that you can. At the same time, you press your fingers into her underarms, tickling down her sides. You laugh at her sudden shrieking and blow another raspberry, and another one, struggling to draw breath as her giggles infect you completely.

"I got you," you tease.

"No, mommy!" she squeals, sounding more pleased than her pleas might suggest.

"I do, I have you!"

"It tickles a lot!"

"I have to tickle you, it's part of my job."

"Mommy," she says, almost breathless. You ease up. You don't want to wear her out.

"Mwah," you say, giving her a sorry kiss.

She laughs again. You think she might attempt another sentence —you can practically see the cogs of her brain turning behind her eyes— but she's cut off by a familiar voice.

"Girls! Y/N!" Eddie hollers. "They're having way too much fun without me."

You look up at his call, frowning at his odd phrasing, and are immediately startled to see he isn't by himself.

At one side of him stands a pale girl with brown hair cropped to her chin, in a mock biker jacket despite the heat carrying the promised soccer ball Eddie left to retrieve. A half step behind her is a taller guy with dark blonde hair, a smile on his face. You meet his eyes accidentally, forcing yourself to smile despite your confusion so he doesn't get the wrong idea.

They must be Eddie's friends. You've met Gareth, from his old band, and Melanie, one of the cooks from The Hideout, but you haven't met these guys.

"Y/N, sweetheart," he says, rather proudly, if you do say so yourself, "these losers caught me at home. Robin," —he points at the girl, who smiles with all her teeth— "my very good friend, and Steve, her leech."

"Hi," Steve says first, surprising you again. "And that's Junie?"

"That's Junie," Eddie says, again so proudly.

"Hi Junie," Steve says. He's smiling at you, sure, but he's beaming at your baby. "Holy– she's bigger than I thought, I kind of pictured a baby baby, you know?"

"I showed you a picture, man," Eddie says.

"She didn't look this old in the picture," Steve says. He looks heistant for a second. "Can we sit down?"

"Yeah– yes, yeah, please. Can I get you guys something to drink?" you say, sitting up too quick and almost tipping Junie out of your lap. She says, "Woah!" in her little voice and Steve, Robin and Eddie all laugh.

"I'll get drinks, don't worry," Eddie says.

He walks around your towel to head up the trailer steps. Steve sits on the grass by your towel, and Robin kneels with the ball in her hands opposite. Neither is dressed for the sunny weather but they don't seem to mind.

"It's nice to meet you," Steve says, giving Robin a weighted look.

"We've been asking," Robin says.

"I didn't know," you say apologetically.

"No, we know, you're like Munson's best kept secret half the time. One minute he's showing us your picture all smug but when we ask about you he just rolls his eyes."

"'Wouldn't you like to know,'" Robin quotes with a smarmy smile.

"So he doesn't talk about me?" you ask.

"He doesn't shut up," Steve says. "Sorry, we're kind of kidding."

"Oh–" Junie wriggles in your arms. Her face is in your neck, but she keeps turning to sneak peeks at these friendly newcomers. For once, being a mom is gonna save you from awkwardness rather than subject you to it further. "June," you say softly, "you wanna say hello? These are Eddie's friends. You can say hi, baby."

Junie isn't shy around new people. After your reassurance and a couple more seconds looking at them with mild suspicion, Junie turns her face to Robin and says, "Hi."

"Hi," she says back. "She's a really pretty kid. Me and Steve have worked at the video store for like, almost three years, and we see some uggos."

"Rob," Steve says.

"What?" Robin asks.

"You can't say that."

"Mom," Junie says.

You look down as she looks up. "What?"

"Where's Eddie?" she asks.

You lean back and turn her encouragingly toward the open trailer door. "He's inside. He's coming back."

"He…" She looks between you and the doorway. Her voice is quiet. "Play soccer and me?"

"Yeah, he's gonna play soccer with you."

"With me," she says.

You grin. "Exactly."

You've only ever had Junie, so you don't know what counts as slow or advanced or normal, but you know kids all go at their own pace, and that most get there eventually without help.

Your girl's never been quiet. She speaks even when she doesn't have the words. Daycare and your dedicated encouragement have brought it on suddenly, leaps and bounds of words, but she's still slightly behind, you think, although you trust that she'll get there when she can. Her vocabulary grows every single day.

"How old is she?" Robin asks, pulling her knees to her chest, soccer ball held in front of her shoes.

"Uh, she'll be three really soon," you say.

"Oh, she's kind of small," Steve says.

"You just said she was big," Robin says belligerently.

"I already said, she looks different in the picture," Steve says, frowning at Robin forcefully. "Does she look three to you?"

"Yeah, doofus," Robin says.

"Her birthday's in June, so it's really coming," Eddie says, a tray in hand you barely remember owning and bedecked in drinks.

He has four big lemonades and June's sippy cup, the pink one that was supposed to help her transition from bottles to cups and has yet to be progressed from further. Like always, these things take time.

"Can you believe that?" you ask. "It's already summer."

"Ew, no. I need time to slow down. Summer at the video store is hell, and it's about to get worse because Steve's ditching me."

"How come?" you ask.

Eddie sits beside you with the tray. It impresses you that he doesn't tip a drop, until you remember that he's a bus boy, and at times when the Hideout gets super busy he acts as a regular waiter, just like you.

"Steve's gonna start working at Cork Kids," Eddie says.

"The daycare? No way, that's where Junie goes," you say excitedly.

"Really?" Steve asks, smiling again. "I just signed my contract with them. Looks like we might be seeing each other all the time, Junie."

"You'll have a friend before you start," you say.

"Oh, thanks," Steve says, looking down at his lap momentarily.

You side eye Eddie, who gives you a look that says he knows what you're thinking. At first glance, Steve looked like a normal, perhaps preppy guy, but it makes sense that there's some uncertainty there. Eddie seems to attract earnest people with self-esteem issues.

"Have you been around kids before?" you ask.

"I– yeah, I had to take a course, but this is my first go at it as a job. I can handle it though, I'm good with kids. I'm new to looking after the younger ones."

"It's hard work," Eddie says.

You shake your head. "No, it's easy, they're lovely. My June is a sweetheart, I promise."

"She makes it look easy," Eddie says, shaking his head vehemently.

Robin snickers at Eddie's fear mongering and drops the soccer ball in favour of one of the glasses of lemonade. Ice cubes clink against the side of the glass as she takes a sip.

Junie's interest is piqued by the ball. She sits up in your lap, looking tentatively between the adults surrounding her and the prize ahead. Robin nudges the ball toward her subtly with her foot. Junie's delighted as it rolls toward her, standing so she can grab it. It makes her look small to be holding something so big near her head.

"Do you wanna play?" Eddie asks her.

Junie shrugs. "With you?"

"Yeah, with me."

She looks at Robin. "Play?"

"Sure," Robin says.

"What about me?" Steve asks. "Can I play, too?"

Junie looks oddly hesitant. You rub one of her arms briefly. "Steve can play too, right, baby?"

She squints at him. "Okay. Steve too."

Eddie chokes on a laugh. "Exactly how I feel about him. Oh, come on, Harrington! You know I'm joking. Just get up already, Junie wants to play."

—

Eddie's lying down in the grass a couple of hours later when you sit at his hip. He's tuckered out from running, kicking, and throwing June around, and he's in desperate need of a shower. You clearly don't care, bending over his prone form, your arms around his stomach in a skewiff hug.

"Hi, handsome."

"Hi. She's sleeping?"

You'd dragged Junie inside and out of the sun to change and feed her, and Eddie had stayed outside to say a proper goodbye to his friends. Now they're gone, and the lack of her points to one obvious explanation.

"Missed her nap. She was asleep by her third mouthful."

"That's my bad."

"No, she had the most fun she's ever had today."

What's better than one person willing to dote on you? Four. Steve had been eager and honestly more than happy to meet Junie and get to know her, and Robin had been awkward at first but just as kind. Good thing: Junie declared Robin her new best friend. Eddie couldn't help feeling a little sorry for Steve, but she warmed up to him eventually.

"I'm glad, actually, 'cos I've totally fucked my jeans. Cancels out."

You'd absolutely decimated your jeans with grass stains. Reluctant, you'd agreed to play soccer, or a mismatch game with way less players. You, Junie, and Robin against the boys. You were starting to enjoy yourself when you slid, and Eddie thought, Oh, fuck, she's gonna be embarrassed, ready to jump in and help you up, but you burst out laughing and Junie ran to your side, ecstatic at the sound.

"I'll get you new jeans."

"I'll get myself new jeans," you say, rubbing your nose against his chest. It tickles, butterflies erupting beneath your touch. "It'll wash out. Probably."

"I'll get you new jeans," he says firmly, searching for your hand.

He wraps his fingers around it and feels your skin without motive, the sky a calmed, darkening blue above him, orange and pink hints whispering at the horizon.

"Do you think they liked me?"

"They did. I know they did. Steve gave me that look guys give each other."

"That look," you croon, laying down in the grass beside him.

Eddie misses your hugging but lavishes in the feeling of you under his arm, your face turning into his chest. He lifts his head to see you've closed your eyes and pressed your mouth against his shirt.

"He's jealous."

"He's not jealous," you say fondly.

"He should be," Eddie says, curling his arm around you.

"Don't flirt with me."

"I can't stop."

You laugh. He doesn't hear it so much as feel it, the gentle shaking of your shoulders. Dropping his nose into your hair, Eddie closes his eyes as you have and breathes you in.

"Holy shit," he says, pretending to be alarmed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me," you say.

"No, it's nothing."

You huff showfully and lift your head to look at him in question. The longer you look the weaker your resolve becomes, until you're cupping his face, total adoration in your eyes as you ask, "What?"

"Just can't believe we're together," he says. He lifts his chin. Your hand falls to his neck. "That's all."

You soften further. There's a hint of sadness to your tone, "Me neither."

"It shouldn't be feasible for someone to have as much luck as I do. Hey, d'you think you could kiss my dice before I leave tonight?"

You tuck a piece of hair behind his ear, your gaze on his lips and chin.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah, I'll kiss your dice… m'just thinking."

The wind blows mildly, lapping the smell of grass and dry dirt your way. Eddie finds he kind of likes it, but that could be the smell of you overtop, domineering as it is. Jasmine, the lingering scent of talcum powder, honey and milk hand soap. The last remnants of your shampoo, if he really thinks about it. You smell like everything he's ever wanted.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks quietly.

"You and me."

"I'm always thinking about you and me," he says.

You hug him, hiding your face in his chest for a second time. "I'm the lucky one," you say.

Eddie stretches back in the soft grass and looks up into the sky. Sunset approaches without any concern for what Eddie wants; to stay here with you for a long, long while. It's too bad that he has to find a lock for your bathroom, and go see Gareth and the remaining Hellfire Club (or rather, the remaining members of his Hellfire generation) for another session of D&D.

"Maybe I'll call. Cancel."

"No, you have to go. You spend too much time with me as it is. You need your friends, and you'll have fun when you're there, you always do."

"I don't spend enough time with you," he says.

If he had it his way, he'd happily spend forever locked in time with you here, the warmth of your body sinking into his side and his hair trapped under your weight. It tugs every time you move. He likes you so much that he doesn't consider asking you to stay still.

It's quiet. Eddie can hear the wind over the grass, the ticking wheel spokes of bikes somewhere not far, and your breathing. Slow, deep breaths.

"I'm glad I could fall in love with you before I noticed it was happening," he says, his voice low and a tad rough.

Your breath catches.

It's a half truth. He was well aware of how much he liked you, but hadn't realised it was going to be such an intense sort of reverential affection until he was already knee deep in it.

"I barely felt it," he says. "No, that's wrong," —he smiles, his words warmed by affection— "I did feel it. I felt it and it was intense, but it was ridiculously easy. Like I'd already done it before. One day I'm stealing looks at you over Friday dessert and the next I wanted you so badly I couldn't make myself ask for it.

"And… even though I wanted you, I think I fell in love with being your friend first. I'm fucking grateful for that, for you. You're everything to me." A best friend and a great love.

"Oh," you mumble, your hand sliding up his chest to the space opposite his heart. "You might actually have to cancel seeing your friends, I don't think I can let you leave after that."

You lift your chin, steer his face to yours, and kiss him. It's soft, but Eddie can feel an exuberance underneath it. Like a vibration. A thrumming fondness for him in the way you pull away and dive right back in.

One kiss turns to two, and a third lends itself to something deeper, his lips parting under the light pressure of your weight above him.

He drapes his arm behind your neck, hooking you into the crook of it. The kisses after that are endless and too short, heavy and not heavy enough. He can't tell his own touch from yours, your hands or his hands, the tip of your nose as it slides into his; as you search downward for something more.

"Public indecency," he says when he can't breathe, nudging you away.

You draw in a big breath and sit up so you're kneeling beside him. He sits up too in an attempt to minimise the space between you, feeling flushed as though he's done a forbidden thing, rather than having just kissed his partner.

He grabs your hands. He isn't ready to part with them.

"I think I fell in love with you when I cut your hair," you say. The setting sun is like gold, your skin aglow in its wash.

"Yeah?"

"Or maybe the first time that you came to see me at work." Your eyes light up at the memory. "You didn't even try to pretend it was for food. You didn't care."

He shakes your hands around mindlessly. "The haircut was a big event for me, too," he says through another smile.

They're constant when he's with you.

"Do you still want me to cut your hair?" you ask, tilting your head to one side in appraisal.

"Maybe tomorrow. I think I'd lose my mind tonight."

"I think so, too," you say.

You lean down as you lift one of his hands to the underside of your chin, rubbing your skin with his knuckles. You draw a line with his hand, your chin to your jaw to your cheek.

His heart skips a beat at the sight. Your serene expression, your soft cheek, and the little smile that blooms as he opens his hand and strokes quarter circles into the desired space with his thumb.

"Are you gonna shower before you go?" you ask mildly, eyes half-lidded.

"Do I smell?"

"Kind of," you say.

"You never smell gross," he says, a tiny lie. Everybody smells bad sometimes, but the majority of the time you smell like heaven on earth.

You roll your eyes. "You're all talk."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

He leans in for a quick kiss, like a dotting of the lips. He does it another two times, to be sure you feel as loved as he feels. "Okay, I better go. I'll shower, and I'll see if there's a lock I can borrow for the bathroom 'til I have time to go to the store."

"You don't have to do that, I can take Junie and get one tonight."

He kisses you again. "It's okay," he says with a smile, his lips a hair's width from yours. He pulls away. "I don't mind. Saves you having to get her ready, I know she's a demon in the store lately."

"She used to be our little lady," you lament faux-tearfully.

"That she did, sweetheart. That she did."

Eddie pulls himself out of your arms reluctantly.

Wayne's eating a grilled cheese sandwich over the sink when Eddie gets home, and a second when he gets out of the shower, so he picks Wayne's brain and towel dries his hair.

"How do we stop June from getting into the bathroom?" he asks, hanging his head upside down and scrubbing at his stringy curls.

"Lock it."

"If we don't have a lock?" he asks, looking through his curtain of hair.

"Buy one." Wayne shrugs.

Eddie drops the towel onto the floor by his feet. "I'm going to. But for tonight?"

"Put a chair under the door of your room so she can't leave when you're asleep."

"Not my room," Eddie says. A flush colours his cheeks.

"Are you going to move in with her? You could get a new place, rent one of those houses by the elementary school. They're nice enough."

"Woah, woah, who says I'm moving out?" Eddie asks, laughing nervously.

Wayne takes a big bite of sandwich and Eddie suffers without an answer until he's done. "'We,'" Wayne says, "you keep saying 'we'. Sounds serious."

"I think it's a little soon to move in," Eddie says.

"Me too. But if you're thinking about it, it doesn't hurt to start saving. I'll help."

Eddie wants to say no, you definitely won't. "Yeah," he says instead, coughing to cover the tickle in his throat. "Alright. Thanks, Wayne."

"Moving is expensive, but she can't stay in that place forever. Junie'll outgrow it in a year."

"We live in almost the exact same trailer," Eddie says with a laugh.

"Exactly. And we're comfortable." Wayne swigs his coke. "But if I could've, we would've moved."

"You still could."

"Are you kidding me? This is my home. When you move out I think I'll stay in the front room, I like it in there. TV in bed, big windows."

"I bet you'll like it more when I'm not around keeping you up at night."

Wayne shrugs. "Most people live with their kids until they're eighteen, right? We had a late start. You're entitled to a couple more if you want them… but something tells me you'll be flying the coop soon enough."

"Not that soon."

Wayne sniffs like this is upsetting for him, "Well, whenever you're ready, kid."

—

Eddie comes back a little later to tell you to trap the baby in your room tonight and he'll get you a lock first thing in the morning, promise. You love him because he calls her 'the baby', and because he could've called rather than park up his van and tell you in person. He gives you another kiss, you can't count how many that makes it, saying he'll see you tomorrow, and that's that.

Junie wakes up from her nap not long after. She's startlingly grumpy considering, and she demonstrates the horror of motherhood concisely —she screams, she cries, she pushes your glass of juice off of the table. It smashes it into a hundred different pieces.

She screams louder when you pick her up to stop her from cutting her feet.

You love her, but it's been a long day. You're exhausted, your head hurts, and it's difficult to clean up smashed glass with a kid. You don't wanna leave her unattended when she's wound up in case she has a tantrum. She's given herself bruises before, and you don't want or need that to happen again.

If you put her down she might try to touch the glass. You clutch her to your chest and sweep the glass up one-handed. It takes a long time, and she only grows more irate as it passes, wiggling in your arms to be put down.

She squirms and pulls her arms from under yours, hitting you square in the face by mistake. You're lucky it hadn't happened earlier. They don't mean to, but babies in tantrums tend to flail around, and June's great at chinning you.

It's an accident, you know it is, but you flinch and almost drop her.

"Juniper," you say firmly, desperate for an intermission.

She quietens a touch. You take a very deep breath, abandon the almost full dustpan, and walk as quickly as you can to your room. You put Junie down on her toddler bed, put Mr. Bear in her lap, and crawl into bed with a pillow over your head.

You don't scream or anything, but you could. One sharp moment. You could really scream. You would if you thought it wouldn't scare her.

It's not Junie's fault. You have a shorter fuse than usual and it's incredibly frustrating when she gets in one of these moods, but she's your baby, you made her, and she's growing up. It must be frustrating for her, too.

She cries quietly in bed, the sound turning your heart. You try to stop your own tears and give yourself a minute in hiding. You nibble your lip. Why are you so stressed? You can't work it out.

You know she's hardwork sometimes, but it's not her fault. It's not your fault, either. You're both doing the best you can.

You take a breath, another, and peel the pillow from your head.

She has snot on her face, wide-eyed and hugging Mr. Bear to her cheek.

Your nose stings.

"You wanna come and lie in bed with me?" you ask, begging whoever it is that's watching over you to have her give in.

With Mr. Bear's ear in her fist, Junie slides off of the bed and crosses the small space of the room to yours. You pull her up onto your mattress and smile at her. Guilt is a leaden weight in your stomach. It aches, seeing her all covered in tears, worse because she looks properly scolded. You don't often tell her off.

"Your nose?" she says.

"It's okay." You clear your throat. "It's okay, lovely girl."

She blinks at you and raises her hand to your nose. You let her feel it, even though it hurts.

"Does it look like it's hurting?" you ask.

She doesn't usually connect her actions like this. A month ago she bit your index finger and couldn't figure out why you pulled your hand away. You're surprised that this is different.

"No…" She sniffles.

"I'm okay. Don't be worried, baby, mom's alright. It doesn't hurt. But you can give it a little kiss, if you want. That'll be good."

You bend down for her.

"Kiss?" you ask.

She leans up and kisses the tip of your nose. It's not a clean kiss. You don't mind.

"Thank you."

"You'w welcome," she mumbles.

You sigh, pulling your shirt sleeve over your hand so you can wipe her messy face. "Let me clean you up, you're all snotty. Make you feel better. There we go, there's my girl. I couldn't see you under all the tears." You stroke her cheek with your knuckle. "I'm sorry, baby. Everything was very overwhelming. Should we try again?"

She looks like she might grizzle.

"Let's have dinner, yeah? You can pick something from the freezer. Any dinner you want."

Dinner works for a time, but afterward she has more sulking to do. You keep her on her toes, playing games and watching TV. She's clean but you're pulling out all the stops, filling the baby bath for her and letting her play until the water's cold and you're soaked from her rubber ducks.

She still doesn't sleep. In a last ditch effort, you give her a bottle of warm milk, though she's aged out of formula now, and it works.

She falls asleep hours later than she should. It's nearly 11PM.

You look down at her asleep on your chest. Her eyes are swollen from crying buckets. Your own prickle, until tears swim and your vision blurs.

You press the back of your hand to your mouth, eyes scrunched closed, and try to make as little noise as possible. It's awful timing, you'll wake her before she's properly sleeping, but you've felt so tired today, and even when Eddie's friends came for a couple of hours you were already rubbed raw. You're tired all the time.

In compliance with the nature of being upset, the things that are upsetting you grow in size. They double, quadruple, until they're heavy enough to knock you down for the count, have you crying like a kid out of pure defeat. You cry so hard it pulls every bit of energy you have and kills it, so hard you couldn't make noise if you wanted to, about everything and nothing. You're at the end of your rope.

You rub Junie's back and wish someone was rubbing your own. It's an odd distress.

It's lucky you hear his footsteps on the steps outside.

If Eddie walked in on you like this, you'd never forgive yourself. You can't imagine it. He's seen you hungry, greasy. He's watched you put things back at the store, he knows you lived off of leftovers and saltiness for months. And you'd do it all again for your girl, but it still hurts thinking he's seen you that low.

You shudder, sucking in two big breaths that won't work.

You drag a rumpled sleeve over your cheeks and try not to move.

The knock is very gentle. You can picture him on the other side, stooped and waiting for you to let him in. If he thinks you're asleep he won't knock again, and it's late. If you can stay quiet for long enough, he'll go home.

He tries the handle.

"Oh, my god," he says when it opens, "I'm gonna fight her."

The her in question sniffs and wipes her eyes again. Eddie flinches at the sound, his head whipping to the side to find you where you're balled up on the couch.

"Holy shit, what's wrong?" he asks.

You shake your head. "N-nothing," you stammer quietly.

"What?" he asks, like this is preposterous, and you guess it is. Something seems very wrong.

He kicks his shoes off by the door as he closes it and doesn't waste any time, though he's quiet and careful as he crosses the room and sits down next to you.

His hand cups your cheek, feeling the tacky damp there for himself.

"What's wrong? Tell me… tell me,” he says.

"It's nothing," you say.

You'd wanted a hand to rub your back, but it's sudden. He's here, and he's seen you crying, and you have no control over it. You never really do.

"It looks like something," he whispers.

You cover Junie's head with your hand. Your smile is somehow more concerning than your frown, if Eddie's reaction is anything to go off of.

"I'm fine."

"How long has she been sleeping?" he asks.

"I don't know.” You sniffle.

For some reason, Eddie's question starts you off again, tears welling in your eyes like fat drops of dew and falling just as fast. One squeezes under his hand.

"Is something hurting?" he asks, his brow pinched now, nothing but patience in his tone.

"No."

"How about I put her to bed for you?" he asks.

"Yes, please."

His frown deepens as the tears build. You're horrified to notice his wince at your shuddering, but breath won't come right. His hands needle under Junie's front, tense as a taut string, and Eddie lifts her into his arms, not quite practised. He shushes her when she mumbles.

"I'll be right back," he mouths.

You nod at his promise. As soon as he's cleared the living room you curl forward, face in your hands, shoulders shaking hard as you wipe your cheeks, catching tears before they race the hill of your cheek.

Things must go well. Eddie's back thirty seconds later, and he's worried.

"Hey, hey. Tell me what happened," he murmurs, perching on the couch next to you.

You try. You're not sure what's upset you, and when you open your mouth nothing wants to come out. Eddie's never, ever seen you cry like this, and it's clear that it's freaking him out.

He curves his arm behind your shoulders and pulls you to his side, voice a pleading murmur as he says, "What's wrong? Please, sweetheart, tell me."

"I'm tired," you force out. The main issue.

"I know."

"Sorry, I don't– know why I'm crying so much," you say, words staggered.

Eddie encourages your head under his chin. There's nothing specific beyond that, no more talking from either of you. He hugs your shoulders tightly, likely tighter than he means to, as though he's worried you'll come apart if he doesn't. The strange feeling of helplessness abates slowly, like an ebbing tide guided away from the shore.

Your sobs turn to smaller, spluttering tears, until the panic fades completely, and the waterworks eventually stop.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, fighting the sore lump in your throat.

"It's okay." You can feel him swallow. "You scared me. You– Do you need something? Some water?"

"No…" You feel like a little kid and like you're too old at the same time. You haven't cried that hard in a long time, and you hadn't had Eddie there to sit with you through it. You're grateful for that, if nothing else. "Can you just–" You turn toward him. "Can I have a hug?"

He steel arms you into his chest, dropping a kiss against your hot forehead.

"Yes," he says, punctuating with more kisses. "No question about it. You can have anything you want from me. Would it make you feel better if I cried, too? I can do that, sweetheart, I could really go for it. In sixth grade, I made myself cry so hard I threw up 'cos I wanted to get out of gym."

You choke on a laugh.

He doubles down.

"I was dry heaving on the bleachers for an hour," he says, his hand behind your head and vying for your clammy neck, stroking a line when he finds it. "They wouldn't send me to the nurse."

"I don't need you to cry. It's… Junie's been wound up like a top all day, and she woke up and just screamed for hours, Eds, screamed. She couldn't have been asleep ten minutes when you got here."

"I'm sorry. That must have been overwhelming."

You peer up into his face to gauge his expression. Not that you think he's ingenuine, but you're worried he's humouring you.

"I got mad at her."

He hums. "Yeah?"

"I didn't mean to, but she hit me."

"What?"

"By accident."

"No, I figured. Where'd she get you?"

"My nose," you admit.

Eddie leans out of the circle of your arms to see your face, bringing a hand to your cheek. He assesses your nose. You want to tell him there's nothing to find, but it's nice to be checked over. His palm is warm.

"If you're crying because you got angry, I promise it's alright. Everybody has a breaking point."

"I know." You hadn't been cruel. You took what you could, and when it got too much you set her down and had a breather.

"Wayne got so mad at me one time he asked me to go get him rosemary toothpaste just so he could have an hour away from me."

"Rosemary toothpaste?"

He turns your head slightly to the side. "Doesn't exist."

"What did you do to make him mad?"

"Cut all the sleeves off of my t-shirts."

"All of them?"

"Every single shirt I owned. It was a cold winter."

He smiles, his pale cheeks appled, his big brown eyes reflecting your own.

"Did you get really mad?" he asks softly.

"No,” you say, cutting yourself some slack. “I didn’t.”

“You know you're allowed though?”

“I don't want to get mad at her. She can't help it.”

“Neither can you. I'm not saying you should yell at her, but don't beat yourself up for not enjoying a sucker punch.”

“It wasn’t that. I’m not upset about it, I mean, I’m not very happy but it’s not the first time I felt overwhelmed by her. I don’t care if she drives me up the wall sometimes, I don’t even care about the impromptu nose job,” —Eddie whoops, before covering his mouth apologetically— “or that she took awhile to go down. I really don't know why…”

“I'm going to say something.”

“Oh no.”

“Not trying to be a freak here, but maybe you're visiting with the devil.”

You sit back. His hands fall to your hips.

“Sorry?” you ask.

Eddie smiles ruefully. “You know. Riding the crimson wave.” He grimaces at your continued confusion. “Time of month?”

You’re embarrassed thinking he’s embarrassed by it, but luckily he furthers, “Sorry if that’s weird to say, I don’t know if that’s weird. I’d, like, crawl across hot coals for you, I really don’t care if that’s what it is, just girls get kind of intense. Emotionally. At that time.”

“Oh really?” you ask.

His skin turns ashen. “Um–”

“I'm kidding,” you say.

Your hand drifts to your stomach. It would make sense as to why you’re feeling very tired and confused about your emotions, and it might be nearing that time. You’re so busy you haven't been keeping track. “Maybe it is,” you say, mumbling still.

“I’m not saying you can't have a breakdown if you need one,” he says.

“No, I know. Maybe you’re right. I kind of hope you're right.”

“Is this awkward?”

“You sleep in my bed nearly every night, Eds. I dont think it's awkward unless you do.”

“Again, I’d crawl across hot coals for you, so… this is the most minor thing ever. Not for you, for me. For you, it sucks. For me?” He pinches your cheek gently. “I worship the ground you walk on, you loser, I don't care if it’s shark week. We’re not in middle school.

“But if it isn’t hormones making you unhappy, if you really feel this awful, you can tell me.”

“I don't know what it is," you say, embarrassed, a headache pounding in your temple.

“That’s okay though, right? Or is it too much?”

“I feel better,” you say. It's true and not true.

Fuck, he’s sweet. His lips pout ever so slightly in concern for you, his brows pinching down. His hands remain steadfast on your hips.

“Well, if it gets too much you gotta let me know. Legally. That’s the whole point of having a boyfriend, I think. You gotta let me take care of you… You're sure you feel better?”

“Yeah. I really am sorry.”

“For what?”

“Being a loser.” You laugh wetly.

“Ah, but you're my loser,” he says, arms curling behind your back again. “I don't want you to cry, but if you are going to then I’m glad it’s when you’re with me, yeah? I don’t like that you were crying alone. Think of all the amazing support you missed out on. I could’ve been rubbing your back that whole time.” He rubs your back in emphasis.

“That feels nice.”

“Do you have any aches?”

“I always have aches, I’m a waitress.”

“Me too.” He presses his lips to your skin. “Let me make you something to drink, and I’ll stay the night, if that’s cool? I can rub your back for hours without getting tired.”

“‘Cos you have such big muscles,” you agree indulgently. He has amazingly shaped biceps, but that’s besides the point.

“That is exactly why.”

He blows a breath out against your cheek and sits back into the couch. “Do me a favour? Next time I ask you what’s wrong, don't say nothing. Don’t hide when you’re feeling like shit, I need to know.”

"Okay. Yeah, I will. Just… you always see me at my worst."

Eddie chucks under your chin and begins to stand. "I get to see you at your best, too. It's a good deal."

It’s a good deal, you mouth to yourself.

“Get up,” he says from the front door, mock-cross when you don't immediately follow, “I can't go to bed by myself.” He locks the front door, sliding the deadbolt home. “You didn’t kiss my dice, you know? That’s why I came tonight, to harp at you.”

“And that couldn't wait until tomorrow?”

Eddie glares at you, “No?”

You hold your hands up, your voice still thick from tears but inarguably in love. “Alright. Harp at me. But carry me to bed first.”

It’s not long before he’s pushing his head against your side, arms at your waist in an attempt to lift you over his shoulder like a fireman, whisper-yelling, “What are you saying? You asked me to carry you! I can’t hear you, babe, just brace yourself.”

—

Junie has the sense that you're being weird. She’s three, or one day away from it, and she won’t remember anything you’re saying right now but she’ll remember how she felt, the warmth of your loving hand in her hair, stroking it from her face as you and Eddie titter at one another. Eddie’s like you, in a way, a mom but not around as much. Almost as much recently, though, which is great news.

“I saw one in the department store by the bus station,” Eddie says, strumming his guitar. It plinks.

Junie sniffs, her nose a little runny, and dips her head back against your chest. You smell like home, the sweet and soft swirl of lavender and jasmine laundry powder, a burning smell she doesn’t really care for that comes after you sit on the floor and press the clothes —hot hot hot, junebug— every other night, and the treats you’re sharing.

“Sounds expensive,” you say gently.

“So?”

“So,” you say, and Junie bristles at the mild annoyance in your tone, because you are incredibly soft-handed and have been since she was born, “I won’t be able to afford it, Eds.” Your annoyance fades as soon as it comes, and you say ‘Eds’ so nicely that Junie turns her face and rubs her cheek into your t-shirt.

“You okay, baby?” you ask her.

Junie huffs, pleased. She is very okay. Even better when you offer her another chocolatey cookie.

“It’s her birthday, she only gets one a year. And I’d be happy to pay for it, anyways.”

“Yeah, you’re always happy to pay for things, you have a screw loose.”

Eddie laughs. Junie laughs at his laughing; whenever he’s laughing there’s happiness afoot. He loves to swing her around in his arms, tickle her, play with her small army of teddies and make them speak. He beams at her from his seat on the floor in front of the TV, the guitar that she’s grown to revere twanging as he puts it down on the floor.

“Hearing that, bug? Your mommy can’t leave me alone today.”

Junie, for all her brilliant smarts, her growing mind, doesn’t really get what he means. She knows that she’s the bug he’s talking to, and that he’s doing something fun from the lilting cadence of his teasing, but beyond that it’s nonsense.

She loses interest quickly and returns to her melting cookie, unperturbed by the mess that it makes of her small hands and once-pristine sleeves. You never shout about stains, so Junie doesn’t see a problem, not until you laugh, the breath of it warm against her ear, and push the sleeves of her shirt up the lengths of her arms. She’s wearing her very favourite strawberry pyjamas today, though they make her agitated every now and then because they don’t feel quite right. She doesn’t see why. They’ve always been the best.

“Don’t listen to stinky,” you say.

Junie nods. Mom always knows best, she knows, in an abstract way. Except for when you say that the one-eyed stray that slinks around doesn’t like pets. He loves them when you’re not looking.

“We have a chance to make it a really special day, so why don’t we? It’ll pay for itself. The sun’ll be out morning, noon, and night soon, and she can use it every day.”

“Morning, noon, and night,” you repeat. “Very Tolkien of you.”

Eddie makes a pleased sound as he stands up. Junie thinks he is the tallest person in the world. “Thank you,” he says sincerely.

He squeezes Junie’s toes as he passes, and despite how weird it feels she kind of likes it. She loves Eddie, astronomically, gargantuanly, though these are big words to her.

Love can't be described in the words that she knows, but it can be acted out. She drops her cookie like it’s aflame and slips out of your comfortable lap: you are the very best seat, even better than being in bed. Still, she abandons you and your cookies and follows Eddie in a run to the kitchen where he’s opening the fridge.

“Drink, pretty girl?” he asks her, voice saccharine sweet.

She makes a sound of delight. “Up!”

“Say please,” he directs, already squatting down to grab her.

“Please up!” she demands, walking into his waiting arms.

Again, Eddie’s like you. As mom, you feel not too different from Junie herself. She doesn’t know that she misses you, but she does miss you heartily when you leave her at the daycare for the day, or sometimes when she wakes up first in the mornings and can’t climb into bed with you. She doesn’t understand missing you, only wanting you, and she wants Eddie in the same capacity. When he picks her up she feels better, and happy, and loved when his hand stretches palm-flat over her back and pats a turbulent rhythm.

He sings too fast to understand, one of his loud songs. Your music is quieter, because you’re a quiet mom. You whisper when she falls asleep on your chest, singing love songs under your breath as the night creeps in, and your footfall is carefully measured. But you laugh loudly, one of Junie’s favourite sounds in the whole world —up there with the Muppet Babies’ theme song and the squeak your tennis shoes make when you half-run to the baby gate at pick up.

Eddie laughs much, much louder, usually in tandem with you, or if not then only a few seconds before. He also growls, raspberries, and chortles. He does the best Animal impression ever, like the muppet himself is hiding around the corner.

“Here, June, you have your sippy cup, there's a good girl. You’re not drinking much today, what’s the matter? Is your juice not yummy enough?”

Junie takes the offered sippy cup and tries to formulate a response. It’s hard, because Eddie said lot’s of things all at once, and there were two different questions in the mix. She catches onto the very last, giving her sippy cup a good shake as she answers, “It’s yummy.”

You and Eddie love when Junie speaks. Your faces glow. It’s the best.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks.

“Yes,” she tries. “Juice.” She changes her mind. “Cookies?”

“One track mind,” Eddie says.

Junie takes it for an I love you, of sorts. The way he says it suggests affection, she can’t pinpoint exactly what, but it’s how you sound when you tell her every day. She pushes her hands into his hair and then around his neck to give him a deliberate hug. He does the humming thing he tends to do when he’s picked her up, pat-pat-patting her back even as she pulls away.

“Is the cuddle over?” he asks, pouting at her, his eyes widening. “Mom wasn’t even jealous yet.”

“Shut up,” you say happily.

“Have a drink,” Eddie insists to Junie, encouraging the mouth of her sippy cup to her chin. “It’s a warm day today, me and you and mommy have to drink lots and lots to stay healthy. Did you want another drink?”

Junie has a drink, but she doesn't bother correcting him.

“Please, handsome, if you don’t mind," you say.

Handsome is kind of like junebug, only you never call Junie handsome, so it must be Eddie’s alone. Junie doesn’t mind: she gets called baby and babe and bub and sweetheart and even little lady when she’s being really good.

It goes without saying that she feels very, very loved. Even her name feels like a pet name when you say it most the time.

"Junie doesn't need a super big one, she's just one girl. She'd be happy with a kiddie–" You cough. "Whatever size."

"I know she'd be happy," Eddie says, Junie still in his arms and confused.

He's multi-tasking, filling up your prettiest cup until the enamel flowers are starkly backgrounded by juice and ice. Eddie pulls Junie up higher on his side and kisses her forehead. "You've been a happy gal lately. Which is good, good for mom, and good for you." He smiles until she smiles back.

"What I'm saying," Eddie starts over Junie's head, carrying her and your cup back to the living room, "is that I want to get it for her, please. I'll go now while it's still open, and I'll have to get a hose and an air pump or something from somewhere so that'll take time, and filling it up might take an hour or two. 'Cos, listen, I'll pay for it and if the water bill is ridiculous I'll pay for that, too–"

"I don't want you to pay for it, Eds, you don't work ten hour shifts six days a week to spend it all on us."

"No," he says agreeably, sitting down beside you, Junie in his lap. She spots the cookies she'd been missing and reaches across to your lap. You take her on instinct, and boom, cookies achieved. "I barely ever work six days a week anymore, and you're right that I don't work to spend it all on you guys. I spend too much of on nerd crap, another too much on groceries, and some of it goes into savings–"

"What savings?" you say, laughing like this is a funny joke.

"–but really, I don't think of it as spending money on you, babe, and I bet you don't think of it like that either. We're not keeping a tally chart."

"Of course not," you say softly, putting your hand on Eddie's shoulder, "I didn't mean to imply that."

"You didn't," Eddie says, just as soft. "I'm just saying, it's not about money. You know it yourself, the less you have the more you want to give, and I have enough to blow her mind, so I think we should do it. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable or uneasy," —he says uneasy like it's a slimy word, making Junie giggle— "so if you don't want me to, I won't. We'll find something else, it really doesn't matter. Don't get stressed."

"I think I'm always stressed," you murmur, sinking down into your seat. Junie twists to look at you, startled at your sudden change in attitude. You've moved from happy to sad. It's odd. "Sorry, I'm not trying to be a nag."

Eddie laughs, the sound as startled as Junie's feeling. "You're not a nag! Do I make you feel like a nag?"

"No, I just know I am…"

"You are not a nag. You have a lot on your plate all the time, and you worry about money because you need to. I'm not blaming you for something that's not your fault," Eddie says.

Junie likes this part. Eddie slides an arm behind your shoulders, kisses your cheek, and speaks in murmurs as you relax under his touch, "You're allowed to be stressed, don't feel guilty. Just let me have some of the stress too, alright? Don't be greedy."

"This sucks."

"It doesn't suck." Eddie lowers his voice to a whisper, Junie can't hear what he says next. "Let me buy the pool, babe. She'll love it. It has a built-in slide."

"I know what one you're talking about, and it was one hundred and fifty dollars."

"I have it. If she uses it every day for the summer, that's like two dollars a day."

"She won't, though."

"Well, we waste money all the time. We bought that box of apples from that guy on the side of the road the other day for ten dollars and we didn't eat a single one."

"That's different, we forgot they were in the trunk. We probably would've died if we ate one, they got all squishy."

"If we all use the pool it's worth it. Me, you and June use it every day, it works out cheaper than a movie ticket."

"I'm gonna make you go in the pool every single day," you threaten without malice.

You obviously won't be doing that, you aren't that bitter, and Eddie says, "Yes," under his breath because it's practically permission.

"I will happily go in the pool every single day," he says.

"Pool?" Junie asks.

Junie already has a pool, and she loves it, and now she's heard the word, she wants it bad.

"Oh…" You kiss Eddie's jaw chastely. "Your fault."

"Shit," he says.

Junie takes a breath and repeats it, puzzled at your horror. You usually love it when she says new words.

—

The trailer is something out of a movie today. It's a warm and sunny day with enough cloud cover to defeat the brutal summer glare that sometimes smothers Hawkins. The breeze cools the sweat on the back of Eddie's neck, a blessed reprieve.

He couldn't ditch you yesterday after his 'pool' related slip up —you are, in fact, 'visiting with the devil', and it's making you miserable and stressed despite all your best intentions, so leaving you alone to get out and fill the pool, a sometimes stressful situation, was not on his agenda— resulting in a very early morning for him. He woke up at 6AM to drive to the department store by the Indianapolis bus station, had to hang around for half an hour before it even opened because he didn't time it right, and then had to drive back with the new pool hoping he could get it done before Junie was awake.

Juniper was, in fact, already awake and bounding around the trailer like a girl on fire, the decorations, banners and balloons and tablecloths, working her into a frenzy. Apparently she took a while to understand that the day was about her, but once she did she couldn't stop smiling.

"You should've seen it," you'd said, stretching the elastic string of a cardboard party hat over the head of Mr. Bear. "She went ballistic, Munson, absolutely crazy when she saw the cake, I don't think I've ever felt that happy in my life."

"Sorry I missed it," he'd said, in agony.

Eddie’s hoping the pool will get her to a similar level of excitement. He looks out over the grass behind your home and feels very, very smug. The pool has been successfully blown up with air and filled, and it looks like it was worth every penny with the hose running down the slide, the attached palm trees standing tall. Your favourite The Beat record is playing from the open window, and he can hear you and June singing along to Save It For Later, aceing the long na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na's. It makes him ridiculously happy.

"Looking good," Wayne says.

Eddie turns to his uncle where he's approaching from the left, a Teddy bear wrapped in purple-pink cellophane in hand.

"You think so?"

"Tyke's gonna love it. When's the grand reveal?"

"I'm all done, so right now," Eddie says. "Holy shit, this is sick, right?"

Wayne, in his most deluxe outfit, a light brown button down and a pair of unripped, unsullied jeans, gives Eddie what can only be described as his fond dad look. "It looks good, Eddie."

It should. There's the pool, the picnic blanket covered in cupcakes and finger sandwiches shielded by a big beach umbrella, and a sheet of green grass behind it.

"How are you gonna stop the strays getting at it?" Wayne asks.

"Who knows. I got a tarp in the van, that'll have to do it."

"You could, you know, pack it away."

"That is not how we do things," Eddie jokes.

"Didn't we just have a conversation about saving money?" Wayne asks.

"We did, yeah…" Eddie crosses his arms across his chest. "This honest living thing is tough."

"You love it," Wayne says. "You're a good kid."

Eddie sits on the foldout picnic bench he'd borrowed from Gareth and Wayne sits next to him, the two of them looking out at the pool, the sound of the hose and the crickets in the tall grass bordering the park a steadying company.

"Y/N invited the daycare kids. She didn't want me to get the pool, even though she kind of did, 'cos it wasn't cheap, but as soon as I brought it home she just–" Sparkled, Eddie wants to say, but he certainly won't be saying that to Wayne's face. Wayne would never let him live it down. "She called every mom she had the number for and invited the rest of the kids from daycare to come over. I don't even think she wants to brag, and shit, I want to. She just wants the kids to have a good time."

"Well, you picked a good one," Wayne says easily.

"I know you weren't sure. At first."

"That didn't have anything to do with her." Wayne rubs a hand over his chin. "It's hard, having kids. I feel for her doing it all by herself like that. I'm glad she has you now, but dating a woman with a kid isn't easy, and it isn't something you can do and move on from like nothing happened. I'm not saying you're that little girl's dad now, but you're doing the things a dad does, understand? You're not just a boyfriend."

Boyfriend is funny from Wayne's mouth. Juvenile. He doesn't think Eddie should call you his 'old lady' but he always laughs at 'girlfriend'. Wayne's a complicated dude. A little rough around the edges, and absolutely brimming to the neck with love.

"I get it," Eddie says, and he does.

He isn't Junie's dad, but he loves her like his own, he's sure of it. He's never had his own so he doesn't have a comparison, but still. And he gets that this is a layer to the relationship he shares with you. How it might complicate things. How it could go wrong.

"But you'd do anything for those girls, and I know that," Wayne says.

Eddie wishes Wayne would say a little more, explain it to him, because Eddie feels out of his element sometimes and needs a hand. He doesn't question if what he's doing is the right thing because it hasn't ever felt wrong. He doesn't worry about the future because the only thing he can see ahead are good times. But there's still an underlying anxiety, and he wishes his uncle would give him some relief. He also understands why Wayne doesn't.

"I would do anything for them," he agrees. "Which, I've been meaning to ask you something, a favour."

Wayne raises his eyebrows, looking tired. Eddie knows it's half charade.

"How do you feel about babysitting?"

"Now that's why I didn't want you hanging around her," Wayne says, deadpan.

Eddie laughs sharply, so suddenly he can't breathe and ends up hacking coughing into his hands.

Wayne laughs and pats Eddie on the back. "I can babysit. For an hour."

"Two? I'm trying to take her to dinner, you know. A real date, like a gentleman."

"We'll see. What's she think about it?"

"She's extremely protective, and you know she doesn't think you're a bad guy, or anything, but she's apprehensive."

"She'd be silly not to be. Some people are evil."

Eddie grimaces. "Exactly. But she trusts me and I trust you, so."

"I'd think you do. Only broke my back–"

"For the last ten years," Eddie finishes.

Wayne throws his arm around Eddie's shoulders. "Looking after you, son. God knows I'd do it again… As long as it's alright with Y/N, I'll babysit. But you know there's a ton of kids trying to make a buck around here who'd just love to help out," Wayne says. Eddie must have rubbed off on him or maybe Wayne's the source of all his theatrics; he puts on a hopeful, almost wistful sort of voice as he says it that has Eddie laughing all over again.

"We'll see. There's no hurry. Just wanna take her out sometimes, she deserves it."

"She sounds like she's having plenty of fun to me," Wayne says reassuringly.

You're singing and laughing through the words from the kitchen. You'd told Eddie you're going to give Junie a very intricate hairstyle so she can swim without worrying about washing it, and it's taken you the better part of the hour, yet neither your good mood nor June's has faded. He can see it, you feeding Junie cold cut-up fruit dipped in condensed milk, kissing her cheeks and massaging her scalp as you go. Junie on the counter, as happy as she's ever been.

"You almost done?" Eddie calls.

You turn down the music.

"What?" you ask, pushing the kitchen window open a little further, careful to push aside the shutters just enough to see him, but not let Junie see the backyard. "Oh, hi Mr. Munson, how are you? Can I get you something to drink?"

"Just here to give some birthday wishes," Wayne says, lifting the bear up. "How are you doing?"

"I'm awesome," you say brightly.

"You look good."

Wayne had pulled Eddie aside once, when you'd been dating for two weeks and bumped into him outside of Bradley's, as the fates should have it. He'd looked stern, hand on Eddie's shoulder, and said, "I'm not blaming you, son, but you gotta help her get some rest. Poor girl looks ready to fall over."

Eddie thinks you're pretty even when you're exhausted. In the fullest sense of the word, you meet every definition in his dictionary. You have these eyes that might not pull everyone in but more than hook him, and when you look at him sometimes it's with so much love you're basically an angel. Your smile is beautiful because it's yours. Your voice is lovely because of the words you choose to say, that endless sweetness and softness. He knows you well enough now to realise that there is an end to it in reality. When you're tired or fed up, you can be snappy and blunt and occasionally argumentative, but he likes that. He doesn't want you any other way, 'cos perfect doesn't exist and if it did he'd still end up on your doorstep with a plastic bag in the crook of his elbow, begging for one of those shitty mini pizzas you make and a place at your table.

You do look well, admittedly and despite your recent bout of restless upset. You had a good night's sleep, and Junie being happy makes you happier. You beam down at them from the window, your eyes sliding to the blown up pool and the mini picnic Eddie's set up.

"Thanks, Mr. Munson. Can I bring her down?" you ask.

"Absolutely," Eddie says, hand in the air and pulling toward his face, ushering you down, "right now."

The back door opens and you guide Junie out first. Eddie popped in to give a birthday cuddle and the card he'd picked out, but he hasn't seen Junie since you did her hair, and it looks so nice it melts his heart. She stands in the doorway in her swimming costume, pink and purple and green ombre with frills everywhere, her face slack.

"Happy birthday!" Eddie says, standing so he can hold out his hand and help her down the stairs. She takes it but doesn't move. "Me and mom know you like your pool so much we wanted to get you another one, do you like it?"

She starts wiggling, jumping without her feet leaving the floor. She looks at Eddie, at Wayne, at you, at the pool, and a noise starts to brew like the whistle of a saucepan boiling water, the lid skewiff. Eddie grins and waves her hand.

"It's for you, babe, do you want to get in?" he encourages.

"With you?" she asks, still wiggling.

"Maybe later. Do you need help?"

Junie runs to the edge of the pool, looking over the side that's almost as tall as her and into the water. You already gave him a strict talk about water safety as though for a moment you might not be supervising, loving but resolute that she can't for one single second be unattended or without eyes on her.

He hadn't been offended, though he did kiss the top of your head and say sarcastically, "Thanks, major, I didn't know that."

"Jerk," you'd said, earning another kiss.

Eddie puts his hands under her arms and lifts her up carefully. Her legs curl in toward her stomach like a pill bug. "It might be cold, June, but it's in the sun, so it won't stay cold. Ready?"

"Yes!" she says.

Eddie eases her down into the water. She shrieks happily as water covers her toes, her legs, up past her belly button.

Eddie lets her go and she sits in the water rather than stands. The water reaches her shoulders. She lifts her hands and does a little splash. "It's so big!" she cheers.

You ease down into a kneel poolside and reach your hand into the water. "And so cold!" you say, looking up at the sky for a moment. "It'll be warmer in no time. Oh, wow, June, there's so much water, you're up to your chin!"

Junie stands up and runs to the palm tree, giggling. Her attention snags on the slide, and Eddie knows everyone present smiles when she gasps and spins on her heel to you, almost slipping onto her butt. She scrambles up again. "Mommy, it's a slide!"

"I know! Are you gonna go down? Come here, you have to let me help you up over the side and you can climb up the slide."

Just when Eddie's starting to think he couldn't like you more, you pull her up against your chest and out of the pool. You don't care that she's soaked.

"Let's go down the slide!" you say, sounding genuinely excited.

"Starting to think you should've got a bigger one, kid," Wayne says.

Eddie snorts and peels off his shirt. "Maybe," he says, shooting Wayne a secret, pleased smile, before rounding the pool. "Babe, you're getting wet, let me have her," he says to you. The daycare kids and their parents should be coming soon. He knows you'll want to look your best.

"Woah, put your shirt on, Munson, what do you think this is? A GQ shoot?"

"Like I'm some piece of meat," he murmurs with a smile, failing to help Junie navigate the inflatable steps of the slide.

You whistle playfully. Wayne howls with laughter. Eddie turns three shades of pink. He blames the sun.

Your teasing ends as soon as it's started. When Junie gets the hang of the slide he dries off and puts his shirt back on, and soon the daycare parents arrive with their tiny charges. They're quick to climb into the pool. Junie is ecstatic beyond words, laughing and giving out dripping hugs to her very favourite friends Adrien and Lucy. Adrien is a sweet, smart toddler. He manages to say, "Happy birthday, Junie!" with a small reminder.

Junie smiles until her eyes close. "Thanks," she says gleefully.

You shuffle over to Eddie. "Can you please watch all the babies so I can go get the drinks, please? And say thanks for the gifts?"

"Please please," he says, squeezing your wrist. "I think there's about seven pairs of eyes on them, but yeah, absolutely. They don't call me Eddie Water Safety Munson for nothing."

You elbow him mildly.

The only danger Eddie can see is that the kids look like they might have a fight over who gets to use the slide first. There's an impatient four year old called John who feels desperately that he should get to go first, and Lucy, Junie's favourite, does not agree. The birthday girl doesn't seem super interested in the conflict and instead plays with Adrien and a little girl named Matildhe with her rubber duckies, away from the slide.

"You don't have to stay," Eddie says to Wayne, eyes on Junie's excited chattering.

"And leave you to entertain the parents? I'm not that cruel."

Eddie doesn't know most of the parents, having only met Adrien's mom when Junie was having her hugging phase and Eddie went in for emotional support, and John's dad outside of the mechanic where Wayne works, you in the car, Junie on his hip as he dipped in to bring Wayne his forgotten lunch for a late night doing overtime. Junie had recognised John, and so Eddie had been forced to introduce himself. It had been fine, but Eddie would prefer you with him for any future clumsy introductions.

You come back down with drinks and make parental rounds, thanking each one for the small gifts they've brought. You ask about allergies and nod seriously when one parent says their boy is sensitive to aspartame, before sneaking back to Eddie's side.

"What's aspartame, handsome? Do you know? I might poison that poor baby from stupidity."

"It's a sweetener,” he says, "they put it in Jolt Cola. I think they're saying he's hyperactive."

"Oh, right… is there aspartame in the strawberry juice?"

"I'd have to check. Want me to take a look?"

"No, it's okay… I'll just… hold off on it for a minute," you say. You let your weight rest against his side. "This looks amazing. It's amazing. Thank you, Eddie."

He turns to you and pouts for a kiss. You lean up and give it to him immediately. Eddie doesn't care that there's a crowd of people to watch, he can't not give you a hug. His head locks over your shoulder, and he squeezes you tightly.

"Don't worry, I'm still watching her," he says before you can wriggle out of his arms.

"Okay," you say, your face flopped into the juncture of his neck. "Thank you double. I don't deserve you."

"Yes you do. You deserve a whole lot more," Eddie says, thinking about the houses by the elementary school, and how lonely you can get, and the feeling of your hands as you wash soap suds out of his hair. He hugs you hard and pulls you toward him, your heels lifting off of the ground just slightly. "But this is a start, right?"

"I wouldn't call this a start," you say, pulling away from him. Your face is lined with affection. “This is better.”

You turn around, sliding firmly under his arm, and scan the pool for your girl. Junie's standing now, offering handfuls of water to Lucy, who takes them and tips them over her head. Every time water runs down her face she laughs, and Junie hurries to get her another handful.

"I think Steve said he was gonna come by," Eddie says. "That cool?"

"Sure, the more the merrier. What about Robin?"

"She can't, she's training the new video store recruit. She said Steve has her gift, though."

You shake your head and click your tongue, "Tsk, they didn't have to get her anything."

"They wanted to. Steve actually enjoyed it, I think. He's kind of desperate to be a dad, you know? He's dating this girl from Anderson but she's in college and they're not settling down yet. You know, I never thought that I'd– that I would end up settling down before him."

"Are you?" you ask softly.

He's quiet for longer than he means to be, watching as Junie gets her go on the slide. She barrels down into the water and screeches, overjoyed.

"I'm not asking you to," you say, "I wouldn't ever ask you to, I mean, you don't–"

"Hey, hey, wait. Wait a second." He tears his gaze from the pool to meet your eyes. "I'm settling down. I am. I want to. I want to be with you, and I want to look after you. I love doing it. This," —he gestures around your backyard— "is what I want. I want a ton of other things and I'm not giving up on them, I wanna make music, and get a job that pays better, but I want to do those things with you. You and Juniper."

"I'll look after you, too," you say.

He kisses the skin before your ear. "You already do," he says quietly.

There's a small gap in your conversation. Eddie takes a sweep of the yard. Wayne looks content if a little bored in the sun, arms crossed across his chest and Teddy bear sat beside him. Junie's talking animatedly from inside of the pool to one of the parents as they rub sun cream into their own child's arms. The stray cat who sometimes sleeps under the porch noses at a half sandwich on the picnic blanket. Eddie's sweating in the heat, and it is so, so loud, but he reckons it's a damn good party.

You stroke a big wad of curls behind his shoulder, a smaller strand behind his ear.

"I love you," you say tentatively.

Eddie laughs but closes his mouth, the sound more of a hum, and leans back so you can cup his cheek. "I love you, too," he says, "you know that." He confessed it plainly enough only a week ago, lying in the grass with you, your cheek over his heart.

"Good," you say, looking like you might keel over. "I was really scared to tell you."

"I was scared to tell you too. That's the fun part, for sure. This is terrifying."

"Terrifying," you second.

"And awesome."

"So awesome," you murmur.

Eddie peels your hand from his cheek and spins you around. You move slowly but let him do as he pleases. Your lashes kiss in the corners as you smile, as you pause in your spin to squeeze his fingers tenderly.

"Munson!" Steve calls, though he blinks when he sees the crowd of people he technically works for amassed poolside. He's only been with Cork Kids for a few days. "Oh, hello."

"Steve!" Junie cries, throwing herself at the wall of the pool. "Hello! Good morning!"

"Hiya, Junie," he says.

"Good to see you, son," Wayne says, extremely amused.

"Come swim, Mr. Steve!" one of the kids calls.

"Gonna save him?" you ask Eddie.

"Not a chance."

"Steve!" Junie yells again, "Hello!"

Steve understands that he's not going to get out of it, clearly, because he crosses the yard and kneels down in the wet grass by the pool. "Hi guys. Are you having fun?"

The kids all cheer. Steve gets splashed in the process.

—

Children's birthday parties are much shorter than you thought they'd be. The children, in different states of tiredness, are wrangled into towel ponchos and shepherded into cars, each with a slice of cake wrapped in a paper towel and a heartfelt, "Thank you so much for coming."

Steve, exhausted, is slumped on the couch in your trailer with a cold can of coke pressed to his forehead and a borrowed pair of Eddie's sweatpants as well as a black and red Metallica shirt that wildy changes the young man's appearance. Junie giggles, sitting with Mr. Munson —call me Wayne, kid, I'm begging you— at the kitchen table.

"Not like that, Way!" Junie says, trying to coach him through eating a powdered sugar donut.

"I don't know how else I'm supposed to be eating it." He sounds as adoring of her as you often feel, forgiving her mispronunciation.

"Babe, where do you want these?"

You finish the cup you'd been washing and sidle to the back door. Eddie's holding the towels you'd brought out for the parents to sit on. Most are wet from the kids climbing in and out of the pool, and all of them are plastered in grass.

"Leave them there, I'll put them straight in the washing machine."

Eddie climbs up the steps, arms full to bursting. "Open the door for me."

You open the washing machine and Eddie tucks them all inside. Every clean towel you had has been muddied and you wouldn't care, but Eddie looks like he needs a shower, and you probably look similar. You stop him before he can go back outside.

"What?" he asks.

You twist your hand into his shirt and pull him in. "Two seconds, you have–" You tilt his head to the side and rub at a funny splotch on his cheek. It spreads but doesn't budge.

"If you lick your thumb, we're breaking up."

You go on tiptoes. "We can't break up, 'cos you love me," you whisper, not even smug. "And I love you."

"That's pretty good logic," he says, smirking, "but it won't stop me."

"Ew," Steve sing-songs, pulling out a chair next to Junie as he cracks open his coke. "That's super gross. And in front of your family. Yuck."

"We didn't so much as kiss," Eddie says.

"No, you're just in love. Much worse."

Eddie rolls his eyes and pulls out the last chair. You assume he'll sit, but he backtracks, grabbing you by the shoulders and sitting you down. "Sit," he commands.

"I don't think I have much choice."

Junie smiles at you from across the table, changed into dry fleece pyjamas to fight any possible chill. You smile back, propping your chin on your hand.

Powdered sugar coats her cheeks. "Donut, mommy?"

"Oh, yes please," you say, holding out your hand.

She gives you a donut like she's worried you're about to collapse from hunger, nearly catapulting it across the table. You pick it up and take an indulgent bite.

"Did you want one?" you ask Steve, hand in front of your mouth.

"I think I've had enough," he says, queasy.

Junie must have force fed him half the cupcake platter. Her viewing him as a nemesis was short-lived.

"Eddie?" Junie asks. "Donuts." She babbles something indistinguishable.

"No thanks, junebug."

Junie hugs the bag of donuts close to her chest, then, seemingly glad that everyone is done sharing.

"Did you cover the pool?" Wayne asks.

"Yes sir, no cat claws will be getting at that one."

"You'd be surprised what you can fix with duct tape," Steve says.

"Does that really work?" Eddie asks.

It's sweet seeing Eddie around his friend. You resolve to ask if it can happen more often —even if you're not there to see it, knowing he's having a good time would make you happy. You've been selfish with him since you met him, and you can't say you're too sorry because of how it ended up, but you can try to make up for it now.

He and Steve get along in a very specific way, wherein Eddie says suggestive things and Steve pretends to hate his guts, and then one or both of them forgets the facade and they talk like normal friends.

"I got from St. Louis to Evansville with duct tape over a puncture."

"That sounds amazingly dangerous."

"I survived, didn't I?" Steve asks.

"By the skin of your teeth."

"You weren't even there!"

You finish your sugary donut and try to earn Junie's attention. She's pulling apart a donut of her own in her hands and licking the jelly off of her fingers, looking confused and delighted at once. She's going to be thrilled when she realises there are chocolate filled ones after that.

"Is that nice, my love?" you ask.

"Mom, it's strawby jelly," she says. "Strawby strawby strawby."

She's been chatty today. "Strawberry, huh? Do you like that? It looks yummy."

Junie offers you a squashed square. Some people would be disgusted at the mauled goods. You take it and eat it, 'cos her hands should be clean, you washed them yourself a half hour ago before she started on the treats. The strawberry jam is as fake as they can make it, which is probably great for Junie but sucks for you.

You're starting to stand when a big cup of water gets placed in front of you, held by a familiar hand. You love his stupid hands, his knuckles and his short nails and the tiny white hairs, everything about them. More now as they deliver your saving grace.

"How'd you know?" you ask Eddie, turning in your seat as you pick up the glass.

"I tried one earlier, I knew you wouldn't like it."

"How could you possibly know that?"

He taps the tip of his nose.

"I should be heading home," Wayne says.

"You don't want to stay for dinner?" you ask, sitting up properly.

"No, kid, I'm alright."

"He's meeting his friends at the bar," Eddie says, "don't let him fool you."

"We haven't kept you, have we? I'm sorry," you say.

"No, you didn't keep me. I had a great time, best kids party ever," Wayne says, standing up. He leans down to meet Junie's eyes. "Happy birthday, little miss. Make sure you plant one on your mom, huh? It's been a long day."

You don't think she gets his drift but she nods at his solid eye contact, and that's good enough for him. Wayne claps Eddie on the shoulder and they walk off to the front door. Eddie follows him down the steps as they trade goodbyes.

"I should get going too," Steve says.

"Are you sure?" you ask, frowning. "If you want to stay for dinner, that's no problem. I don't know what Eddie's told you but I'm a good cook, I promise. We're gonna have Junie's favourite, it's fresh chicken noodle with stelline, the little stars."

Steve wavers, "I-"

"If you don't have anywhere to be tonight, it's really no trouble. I'd love to have you, I'm sure Eddie would too."

"Yeah, okay. If you're sure," he says, scratching a hand through his hair.

Junie jumps down off of her chair with impressive gusto and crawls under the table to your thighs. She leaves sugary fingerprints behind as she emerges, patting your legs until you're forced to help her up. She's mumbling something. Junie talks all the time, but what counts for actual words is another story.

"What are you saying?" you ask, pulling her legs out from under her so she doesn't hurt her knees.

She babbles. Her face has all the intent of someone speaking understandable language, to the point where you feel bad for not getting it.

"Baby talk doesn't get easier?" Steve asks.

"I mean… she's mine. I understand her a lot more than Eddie does, but half the time she might as well be speaking Sindarin."

You pause, mouth open. Steve licks his lips.

"Is that–"

"From Lord of the Rings, yeah. We've been reading it together."

"It's worse than I thought. You should really come out with us sometime, have conversations with people who aren't trying to brainwash you," Steve jokes.

Junie hums, pleased at something invisible, and starts pulling your sleeve down over your hand. You nod toward her. "I can't, really. I always have her."

"You could bring her with you. I wouldn't care, and Robin wouldn't either. We have a couple other friends who'd love you; Jonathan, he's a photograph developer for the post, and he's kind of quiet but he's one of those undercover nerds, like you."

"Stop flirting with my girl," Eddie says, closing the door behind him.

"She's actually talking like you and the idiots." Steve looks at you from the corner of his eyes. "No offence."

"Full offence," you say sweetly, leaning down to give Junie a kiss. "We're offended, aren't we? Mister Steve's name-calling."

Junie looks up, smiles at Steve like a traitor, and then spots Eddie's return. "Up," she says, "up, please."

Eddie takes her. She gives him a gross sticky kiss on the cheek and he eats it up. "What do you want, then, birthday girl?"

She pops her lips but doesn't say. Eddie carries her to the fridge and opens the freezer, sorting through the amassed collection of frozen treats. There's a range of popsicles and ice cream sandwiches hiding between mini pizzas and a bunch of ready-made pasta you got on sale.

She accepts a popsicle and then insists on a second. Eddie glances at you.

"It's her birthday," you say.

"What happens tomorrow? When she expects another round of treats?" Steve asks.

"I pop a double dose of Tylenol–"

"She won't be doing that," Eddie says.

"I take two Tylenol," you amend, "and we try to explain. It's worth it even if she is a demon tomorrow. You've had a good day, right?" You smile at June and her two popsicles, one fist cherry pink and the other lime green.

"She's had the best day ever," Eddie says, and then, a reflection of yourself if you've ever seen it, he kisses her forehead five times in a row.

"Oh, god save her," Steve says.

You stand up to make dinner. Steve helps, and Eddie promises to join you in a moment but never gets around to it, preoccupied by Junie's turbulent popsicle eating and the subsequent rainbow stains on your couch cushions. He scrubs at them with a washcloth and Steve, helpful but unnecessary, stands at your side having chopped all there was to be chopped.

"You can come around whenever," you say, wondering if that's too far.

"That's generous. You don't really want me here that often," he says, chuckling.

You dip your pinky finger in the saucepan to gauge the heat. It's not hot enough to add the pasta stars yet

"Steve, this might shock you, but I actually like having company. It was just me and Junie for so, so long, and I love her, but–" You stir the soup with a wooden spoon rather than continue whatever embarrassing thing your heart had compelled you to verbalise. "I missed having real conversations." You laugh. "I've never been as lucky as when Eddie decided he didn't mind being around me."

"It's worse than that. He minds not being around you. We had him over for dinner, yeah? Two weeks ago? He started rubbing it in my face that he met you first." Steve crosses his arms. "You're pretty, but I have a girlfriend, and he knows that."

"What's she like?" you ask.

"She's amazing. I keep worrying she'll realise that I'm a total loser." He clears his throat. "I mean, I'm a catch, obviously. But no, you'd like her. She'd like you."

"Think so?"

"One hundred percent."

"Maybe we should go on a double date like in the movies."

"Stevie'd like that," Eddie calls. "He's been trying to get me on a date with him for years."

"You wish, Munson."

"Yes I do," he sing-songs.

Junie throws a teddy at him and he drops to the floor like he's passed out. She giggles and climbs on top of him. He oofs but doesn't throw her off, maintaining his act until she sits on top of his chest and starts poking his cheeks. His tongue lolls out of his mouth.

"Well, you can't have my boyfriend, but you can have the best chicken soup ever if you pass me the stelline from the cabinet."

You think Steve might be a great friend. He's funny, he's quick-witted, and he's bitchy but not mean. He and Eddie get physically aggressive with each other when he asks for a second serving, because She's not your servant, Harrington and I was asking permission, you idiot, but it's definitely more friendly than nasty.

When Steve does get going it's later than any of you realised. He says goodbye with varying levels of niceness. You get a heartfelt thank you for the meal and compliments on the party, Eddie gets a hug with a shoulder pat and then an insult that actually worries you until you hear him laughing, and Junie gets a hesitant hug. Junie wants the hug desperately, and Steve isn't used to her yet, but when she gets her arms around his neck he rubs her little shoulders like a pro.

"How did you ever land him?" you ask after his car has pulled away.

Eddie giggles like a kid, "That's so offensive."

"He's a sweetheart…" You turn to him. "You're a sweetheart, what am I saying?"

"What are you saying?"

You lean against his chest. Eddie looks at you warmly enough that it makes you feel you're gorgeous —something in his smile, maybe, that says he's thinking a nice thought. When you lean on him it grows more obvious. His lips part, his eyes on yours.

"You're so fucking pretty.” Your smile is too much like a smirk and yet it doesn't put him off. "I'm serious," he says, hands clasped at the small of your back.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He steals a soft kiss. "Very welcome." He steals another.

You're putty, melting, and you'd care but his hands are loving. He slides one hand under the hem of your shirt and presses his rough palm to your back. You rub your cheek against his chest and feel it like a siren in your head: I'm lucky. How'd I get so lucky?

"Yeah!" Junie shouts, jumping on the couch and almost falling flat on her face. "Kiss kiss," she says, "Mommy!"

"Demanding, insatiable pest," Eddie says.

"Don't you dare talk about my love like that," you scold.

"I meant you," he says, grinning at a well-landed joke. "C'mere, let's have a good birthday cuddle before mommy's shower."

"You're showering first," you say.

"I thought you liked it when I smell gross?"

"You smell like wet grass, but that's not why. You should go first 'cos the water won't be hot by the second one."

Eddie gets gooey. "I'm weird about you. Keep being like this and I'll get weirder. You couldn't cope with that and neither could I."

"Not even," you say.

"Kiss please," Junie insists, still jumping.

You and Eddie turn to her at the same time. Her eyes widen as though she knows what's about to happen, but she doesn't care. She's had the best day ever. Woke up with tickles, praised and petted and cuddled, she's bounced from a birthday breakfast of waffles and more syrup than her baby teeth should be able to withstand to TV with stovetop popcorn and her favourite movie. She sang, she preened under your fingers in her hair, and played in the pool until her legs turned to jelly. She blew out all her candles in one breath (aided, secretly, by Eddie behind her as you held the cake). She ate enough donuts to down a horse. And now, to end it all, she's gonna get the world's best hug.

"Ready?" Eddie asks dramatically. "Three, two…"

You reach for her at the same time, laughing before you've so much as set a hand on her fleece-covered shoulders.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Thank you soooo much for reading! I hope that you enjoyed. Writing is a labour of love but sharing it is terrifying so if you enjoyed this, please let me know, or consider reblogging. It makes a big difference! ♡ I really missed writing for them! Please forgive sometimes the formatting of my paragraphs being odd, I had to cut this down to fit it all into one post!

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daddyy333 · 11 months

Text

“Bucky, please” | Bucky Barnes x y/n

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 2.0k

warnings: masturbating, reader is caught masturbating, oral (f receiving)

summary: Bucky hears you calling his name, little does he know the real reason is a lot better than what he imagined

Bucky was sitting on the couch, he’d just gotten back to the compound and it was 10pm so he assumed you were sleeping and left you alone. He took a shower and changed into his favorite gray sweatpants, watching one of your favorite shows that you almost never stopped talking about.

He heard soft groans and moans coming from your bedroom and at first he thought he was just hearing things or maybe you were talking in your sleep. That was until he heard you say “ohh, Bucky,”

He instantly paused the tv, even though the volume was only at 5 he needed to make sure he was actually hearing what he thought he was hearing. A few moments go by and you said it again.

“Ahh!….mmm- oh god- Bucky!” You said and he stood up, slowly making his way to your bedroom. He was slightly worried, were you hurt? Were you having a nightmare?

“Bucky, please!” You said and he sped up. As he got to the door your noises got louder and louder. “Ahhh!! Yes, yes fuuuck!” You moaned and Bucky quickly opened the door.

There you were on your soft, gray jersey sheets. You weren’t hurt at all, in fact quite the opposite. You were practically naked, your thin tank top exposing your plump mounds and your taut nipples. Your legs were spread just enough to slip your fingers in your gushing pussy, bare and on display for Bucky to see entirely, your other hand rubbing your clit.

Your legs were shaking hard and your back arched off the bed, your jaw dropped open in a perfect ‘O’ letting out the prettiest groans of pleasure. Bucky's eyes widened and he nearly felt dizzy at how fast the blood rushed to his dick.

“Uhh! Shit- oh god, Bucky!” You shouted, pulling your fingers out and trying to make it seem like you're not in the middle of an orgasm. “I’m- ahhh! I’m sorry- oh god!” You said, gasping and whimpering.

He quickly closed the door and groaned, how could he be so stupid? You’re a girl and you have needs, he should’ve knocked at least. He palmed his half hard dick, needing it to not seem like he enjoyed watching you like some kind of pervert. Oh god, was he a perv now?

He made quick work of walking into the kitchen, shaking his hand and running a hand through his hair. He heard you open the door and quickly reached down and hid his boner. You came out wrapped in those silky robes you always wear, making his dick twitch.

“I’m- I-I’m so sorry Bucky, I- I didn’t know that you were home” you said, legs still shaking as you looked up at him with your pretty doe eyes, face flushed and breath shaky and uneven. He cleared his throat and said “I- I should’ve knocked, I just I was in the living room and I heard you and I-I thought you were hurt or something”

“Oh god- y-you heard me?” You asked and he nodded, looking down nervously. He sighed and said “are you- are you okay? You’re shaking” “I’m- well, I- yea I’m fine. I’m sorry” you said again, sitting down at the island.

You cleared your throat and said “how…h-how much did you hear?” You asked, you knew he’d seen everything so there was no point in asking that but you would rather die than have Bucky know that you think of him and moan his name when you masturbate.

“Uhh you know…your…noises” he said awkwardly, cringing on the inside. He took a deep breath and said “also I heard you…I could’ve sworn I heard you say my name. That’s kinda why I was super concerned” “oh god,” you groaned, burying your head into your hands.

Bucky sat up on the counter and said “it’s- i-it’s fine you know, I…I mean I know you don’t have much time to date and stuff. If- I-If you have to use me that’s- I mean it’s fine I just didn’t realize you even thought of me more than a roommate or a friend”

“Yea uhm…I just- I- I’m gonna go back to my room. I’ll see you tomorrow” you said and stood up, rolling your eyes at how shaky your legs still were. Bucky sighed and let his head fall back against the counters behind him.

He felt so stupid. He should’ve known, how could be such a dumbass? He hopped off the counter and made his way to your room again, he wanted to apologize again and keep things from being awkward between you two.

He was going to knock but then he stopped himself. He sighed, his boner getting uncomfortable now. He couldn’t help it, you just looked so gorgeous and adorable, a post-orgasm haze still evident in your eyes the entire time he spoke to you.

He contemplated it a few more moments before he decided against it, about to walk away when the door opened. You gasped slightly, looking up at the tall, tan, and gorgeous man in front of you. He looked at your lips and you smirked, pulling him down to kiss him.

He genuinely wasn’t expecting that, a surprised moan leaving his lips. He placed his hands on your waist carefully, pulling you in closer. “Sorry, I can’t breathe,” he said, obviously flustered and nervous.

You chuckled and said “I just take your breath away, don’t I?” “yea you do” he said, smirking. He cupped your cheek and kissed you again, wrapping his arms around you and holding you up.

“Ahh! Bucky, oh my god put me down” you said and he smiled. He wrapped your legs around his waist, brushing your hair out of your face as he said “you could've just asked for my help, you know? Can't believe those tiny fingers do anything for you,”

You instantly blushed, hiding your face in his chest. “Bucky!” You said, giggling. He walked you over to your bed, setting you down gently. He pulled his shirt off, dropping to his knees.

He pulled the loose knot on your robe, finding you with no pants still and the same lousy excuse of a shirt. He ripped it off with his metal hand, palming your right breast. He trailed his hand down to your sensitive clit, rubbing it softly.

“Wait- wait Bucky,” you said and he instantly stopped, sneaking a taste before you sat up again. He looked up at you with soft eyes and said “what is it? Is this too much?” “I just…what are we?” You asked and he blushed.

He caressed your thigh as he said “I’m yours forever, babe. And you’re mine. I dare you to try and get away from me. You’re stuck with me for life” He kissed your knee gently, massaging your upper thighs.

You giggled, leaning down and kissing him softly as you cupped the sides of his head. He pulled away and pushed you back lightly, burying his head into your wet cunt. You gasped, his nose nudging at your clit as his tongue played with the slick spilling from your clenching hole.

“Bucky…” you gasped softly, you were so sensitive from your previous orgasm. He worked his arms under your thighs and his hands circled to the top of them, holding them open as he devoured your pussy.

He moaned into your pussy, tongue fucking at a torturous pace. You squirmed, pulling on his hair as you whimpered and moaned his name over and over like a prayer.

“Baby…fuck,” he groaned, the fluttering of your pussy around his tongue making him go crazy. He pulled away from you regretfully, sliding his fingers into your sweet little pussy.

Your back arched off the bed, your leg shaking slightly when he rubbed your clit harshly. You gasped a tightening in your belly already forming after less than minutes of him eating you out like a starved man.

You’d never been brought to an orgasm this fast by any one or any thing, and to say you were in shock was an understatement. You whined as your pussy clenched sporadically, barely fighting the urge to let go and cum all over Buckys face.

“Bucky I- ahh! ohh god!” You moaned, squirting all over his face and neck and all over the bed too. Your legs were shaking so damn hard and your vision blurred, your breathing stopped as you came harder than you ever have before.

Bucky smiled as he sat up, licking up what he could from around his mouth. “God, that was hot” he said and laughed, caressing your thighs. You cleared your throat, you hearing still muffled as you said “holy shit,” through a heavy sigh.

He blushed, realizing he just made yku squirt. He’d heard about it in locker rooms and just classic overhearing before but always thought he’d never see it happen let alone make a girl do it. It’s his first time in 70 years and he did it in less than five minutes.

You sighed softly as you finally felt somewhat back to earth. “Bucky…” you said, reaching for him. He grabbed your hand and said “I’m here, pretty girl,” You giggled and looked down at the mess from between your legs.

“Oh god…I-I’m so sorry,” you said and he grinned. He shook his head and said “God, don’t be sorry. Please, do it again” He leaned down and lapped up the remainder of your orgasm, moaning and whining at the taste.

You gasped, squealing slightly. You were super sensitive and a little overstimulated at this point, but you wanted his cock. When he pulled away, you sat up and started working his belt off.

“Wait- w-wait…” he said and you furrowed your brows. You quickly stopped what you were doing and took your hands away. He gulped slightly and said “I just- it’s….I-I haven’t…I haven’t done this in a long time,”

You could see he was really nervous and embarrassed about this, which you only found adorable. “Bucky, it’s okay. We don’t have to do it all tonight. Sure would like to, but that doesn’t mean we have to” you said and giggled, kissing his head.

He sighed with relief, closing his eyes at the feel of your soft lips brushed against his hairline. “Thank you…for understanding,” he said and you smiled.

You caressed his cheek as you pulled back, licking your lips. You smirked softly as you said “do you….want any help with that? Doesn’t have to be the full thing, remember? I can just use my hands or maybe my mouth”

“No, no doll. You’re already tired, I can see it in your eyes. Maybe another time. I’ll be fine in a little bit,” he said and you rolled your eyes. He chuckled and said “come on, let’s get cleaned up. Made quite the mess,”

You blushed softly as he stood up, picking you up bridal style. He brought you to the bathroom, setting you down on the toilet seat. He wiped you down with a washcloth, gentle hands massaging your twitchy thighs.

You slowly followed behind him, holding his hand to the bedroom. You sat down, pulling his shirt over your head, smiling because you smelled like Bucky now. He tugged you down so you were flush against his chest, already tired and ready to sleep.

You giggled and turned around, looking up at him. He smiled tiredly at you, kissing your face a few times. “You’re beautiful,” he mumbled. You chuckled and said “you’re beautiful…peeping Tom”

“Hey!” He said and swatted your ass playfully. You squealed, giggling. He sighed and said “it wasn’t even like that” “I don’t know, was it?” You said and he rolled his eyes.

“Go to sleep” he grumbled, running his hand over your face to close your eyes. You smiled lazily and rested your head under his chin, sighing softly. He placed his hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer as he nuzzled his face into your hair, murmuring little sweet whispers about how beautiful you were.

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Lo’ak

Neteyam

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes

CW!Bucky Barnes

Chris Evans

Steve Rogers

Ari Levinson

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

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inuyashaluver · 5 months

Note

Maybe you could write one where Alessia has a girlfriend who is a firefighter (which means she is taller and more muscular that lessi). And the relationship is the typical sunshine and grumpy?

fire safety - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which you and your girlfriend are absolutely smitten for each other, even if your girl is embarrassed for your initial interactions

warnings: do me a favour and imagine lessi has played in arsenal for much longer xx, swearing

a/n: this request had me GIGGLING like stopppp too good, thank you so much, please please please enjoy!!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

whenever someone asks for the introduction of your relationship with you and your girlfriend, alessia, your girl can’t help but be embarrassed.

it’s easy for alessia to say that your introduction to each other was degrading for her, not believing how much she embarrassed herself in front of you. however, the whole interaction with the arsenal striker, you couldn’t help but find her bubbly-self cute, completely contrasting your stern personality.

you’re a firefighter, a job that you absolutely loved. you were very serious about your job, often seen with a scowl on your face. helping people in need was one of life’s greatest rewards, until your girlfriend came along and took a joint first place in your heart. your girlfriend, the princess of women’s football loved nothing more than to do what she loves, both of you incredibly passionate.

—

it was a regular, cold day in england. a slow day for alessia at training and a slow day for you at the station. both of you were painfully single, seemingly, no one caught your eye, so much so that the both of you were constantly set up with people you just didn’t like.

“(y/n), just meet with this girl, she’s really cute” your colleague pleads, you were both currently sitting in uniform in the small break room at your fire station, patiently awaiting for the signal to go off in case of emergency.

you let out an exasperated sigh, leaning forward to cradle your face with your hands, shaking your head in frustration. “no, when the right person comes along, i’ll know, no more stupid dates” you point your finger at the girl with a glare, “ugh fine” she gives you a light shove, sinking into her seat as she glares at you over the table.

you were about to argue with her and instead got interrupted by the blaring of the alarm system, an emergency.

you quickly rush to get on your protective gear and head to the truck, hopping in the driver’s seat and going as quickly as you could.

“head to the arsenal training facility” your colleague informs, you let out a little hint of a smile, your favourite team, you nod and turn on the sirens.

—

“alessia! that’s fucking burning!” leah yells, alessia was currently making food for her and leah in the arsenal training facility kitchen when she looked away for just a quick second, the pan somehow bursting into flames.

“shit, shit, shit!” the fire alarm floods the facility, people rushing around to get out as quick as they could. smoke was filling the air of the small kitchen, no circulation causing the fire to stay put.

alessia was in a panic, she just froze, she had no idea what to do. leah was no help either, claiming she didn’t know how to use the fire extinguisher staring at them in the corner.

“what the fuck do we do?” alessia exclaims, looking at leah’s shocked face for help until she sees fire fighters filling up the room.

all of them had big helmets on, covering their faces, two of them put the fire out in no time. meanwhile, you see alessia and leah watching in horror, your eyebrow furrows at why they were still inside the smoky room, extremely dangerous for the both of them.

you colleague grabs leah and drags her outside, meanwhile, you walk up the prettiest girl you had ever seen, you’ve seen her on tv but god was she gorgeous in person. “focus” you whisper to yourself, you quickly place a hand on her back and direct her outside to where the staff and teams were waiting for clearance.

alessia looks up at you when she feels a hand on her back, you were so much taller than her, uncommon for the girl. all she could see was your eyes, your face covered by your thick helmet. she was red in the face looking up at you, completely dazed.

“are you okay?” a muffled voice says to her, she recognises that it’s yours. all she could do at this point was nod, your gloved hand still stationed on her back, keeping her relatively close to you.

you quickly nod at her, moving back inside to help the rest of your colleagues, coming out shortly after to the people outside staring at the 7 firefighters in their training facility.

you take off your helmet, lightly shaking your head and holding it under one of your arms. “fuck, okay” alessia mutters under her breath, looking at you with a dazed expression, taking in your muscular build and slightly flushed face, you were breathtaking.

a few of the girls on the team were looking at you in shock, many of them smirking and whispering at each other but all you could focus on was the pretty girl you took outside, her looking at you with pink cheeks.

your chief firefighter began talking to everyone, giving clearance to go back inside after about an hour, so the smoke could clear out. you stood to the side, eyes drawn to alessia, you were so intrigued by this girl, what were you going to do?

you take off your big jacket and store it in the truck, someone else would be driving on the way back. you were now in a short sleeve shirt, your muscles on full display. you only did this because you wanted the pretty girl to see you, not missing her ogling expressions towards you, you couldn’t help but smirk just at the thought.

suddenly, you feel a light touch to your shoulder, turning around to look down at just the girl you wanted to see.

“hi” she breathes out, smiling brightly at you, you give her a soft one in return,

“hey” you cross your arms and lean on the side of the truck, looking at her expectantly as her eyes trailed your body, shamelessly checking you out, you do the exact same thing, trailing your eyes over the gorgeous girl in her training kit.

“um, thank you for putting out that fire” she smiles sheepishly, rubbing her hands over her exposed arms.

“that’s my job” you smirk and shrug your shoulders, alessia turned a bright shade of red

“can i ask why you stood there in smoke when you could’ve died?” you move off the truck, standing directly in front of her with your arms crossed, she looked up at you with her piercing blue eyes, you were done for.

“oh! um..you see” she lets out an embarrassed laugh, “i kind of started the fire” she sighs, looking down at her shoes, lightly kicking the ground out of embarrassment.

“would you like me to give you a fire safety lesson..?” you bend down to dip your head towards her, catching her eyes

“alessia” she adds, you smile at her brightly,

“alessia, cute” you exhale through your nose in a little giggle, “now this is very serious, alessia, you could’ve seriously got hurt, your life matters you know?” you start, a stern expression evident on your face, alessia frowns a little at your scolding, nodding her head along with your words.

“you have seriously got to be more careful, this could’ve been way worse” you grumble, alessia nods again, avoiding your eye contact, getting scolded by literally her dream girl was quite humbling, she was so embarrassed.

“now that i’ve given you a scolding, let’s go through some fire safety” you quickly squeeze her arm as a comforting gesture, alessia’s breath hitched as your warm hand made contact with her cold arm.

“you must pay attention while you’re cooking, alessia” you remark, alessia cheeks were so pink, you couldn’t help but find her adorable.

“i was paying attention! and then leah showed me a video and we got distracted” she shakes her head and you look up to see leah looking at you both with a smirk, you squint your eyes at her and focus back on alessia.

“hm i see” you nod at her words, she finally looks up at you again, your eyes meeting with hers, you let in a sharp inhale,

“w-well okay, that’s fine, let’s just be more careful” she smiles at you and you just about die, feeling your cheeks grow warm. “i will” you smile back softly at her, just looking at each other for a few moments until you hear your chief calling for your team to leave.

alessia looks at you sadly, “now i hope the next time i see you, alessia, is that you’re not trying to die in a fire” you say cheekily, the girl lets out a small giggle at your words.

“and i hope the next time i see you..” she pauses,

“(y/n)” you fill in the blank expectantly,

“(y/n), pretty” she copies your previous exchange, “is that you’re not giving me a fire safety lesson” she smiles and you smirk at her,

“hm, we’ll see” you shrug, lightly squeezing her arm again as you move back to the truck, smiling when you see alessia waving bye to you shyly, you return her wave and get situated in your seat, ready to go back to the station.

both of you had the same thoughts after that, you need to see each other again.

—

about two weeks later, you were told a couple of firefighters needed to do a check up at the arsenal training facility for their fire alarms, you immediately volunteered in hopes of seeing alessia again.

alessia had thought about you everyday since she saw you, she only had your first name and it was incredibly hard to find you on social media, all she wanted was to see you again.

the girls were in the gym, doing slight warm ups. alessia was on an exercise bike, mindlessly peddling but stopping when she noticed a familiar build she had been thinking about for two weeks. you stroll in alone, letting out a slight smirk when you hear a wolf whistle when you walk in.

“sorry ladies, just need to check your fire alarms” you gesture to the ladder you were holding in one arm.

you look around and spot the girl you’d been thinking of everyday, the same one you’d been stalking on social media everyday. you had a hint of a glare on your face until you smile and wave at alessia, she just looks at you absolutely starstruck, this must have been a dream. leah beside alessia picks up her hand and waves it back at you, you smile and set up the ladder in the middle of the room, the girls around stopping what they’re doing to watch you.

it takes two seconds to check a fire alarm so you were very quick, not missing a few of the frowns when you climb down the ladder. alessia had stayed on the bike, watching your every move with a slightly agape jaw. all the girls watched in shock when they watched you walk up to alessia with a smirk, stopping in front of her and placing your hands on the handles of her bike, your hands brushing when she places them next to yours.

“hello, alessia”

“h-hi, (y/n)” she stumbles,

“i’m very happy to see that you’re not trying to die in a fire” you smirk at her, she can’t help but let out a little laugh,

“i’m very happy to see you” she smiles and you raise your eyebrows amusingly, “i mean! i’m very happy to see you’re not giving me a fire safety lesson” you smile at her pink cheeks, nodding in understanding with her,

“ah okay, well i actually came over here to give you a fire safety lesson” you joke, lightly grazing your thumb over her pinky, she looks down at them with a shy smile.

“yeah, okay” alessia laughs, moving her hand slightly closer to yours. “i came over here actually to get a pretty girls number so i could give her a private fire safety lesson, since she clearly needs it” you smirk, shrugging your shoulders, alessia flushes slightly, you own pink cheeks prominent.

“hm” she hums, “i think i do, so i’ll give the pretty girl in front of me my details so i can be extra safe.” alessia and you pull out your phones at the same time, exchanging numbers and shy smiles.

“well, alessia, i’ll call you about your private session” you wink at her, she smiles and nods, watching you pick up the ladder and walk out of the room, but not without glancing back at her with a grin.

“alessia! what the fuck! how did you pull her?” katie exclaims, getting harshly shoved by caitlin in the corner.

“i have no idea” alessia mumbles, looking down at your contact information in her phone.

—

and so, you invited alessia out on a date, going extremely well. you met up multiple times during the week, finding out you lived 5 minutes from each other. slowly, you both begin to date, now being in a relationship for just over 2 years.

you moved in together, finding a new flat in the same location, both of you absolutely smitten with each other. you always came to alessia’s games or came to visit her at training. alessia loved it, calling you a big softie and always laughing at your scowl.

you went to a game one day, sitting in the friends and family section to watch your girl play in your ‘russo’ jersey. arsenal had won 3-1, alessia scoring one of the goals. she spots you waiting for her near the tunnel, her eyes lighting up and running over to you. you smile brightly at her, lifting her easily over the barrier to stand right in front of you, alessia wraps her arms around your neck and pulls you into a tight hug.

you hide your face in her neck, placing a small kiss there and rubbing your hands over her back, pulling her closer.

“hi, baby” she breathes out,

“hi, lessi baby” you give her a light squeeze, pulling away to be at arm's length so you could see her face.

she puckers her lips up at you and you smile, leaning down to place a sweet kiss on her lips, moving together tenderly, gently and filled with so much love. you both kept it tame from the peering eyes of spectators, pulling away with a quick peck before picking her up and placing her back over the barrier.

alessia smiles shyly, “let me shower and i’ll meet you at the back” you nod at her, alessia smiles brightly and blows you a kiss before running off to the change rooms.

you wait for her by your car, alessia was your passenger princess and she loved it way more than she would like to admit. she walks out tiredly, dressed in one of your hoodies and some shorts. she smiles at you brightly and trudges towards you, you run up to her and sweep her up in your arms, carrying her to the car with a bright smile. she smiles at you so brightly, “softie” she whispers, giggling at your fake scowl, “star girl” this time you laugh at her scowl full of complete amusement, she rolls her eyes at you when you place her in the seat and buckle her in with a peck to her lips.

as soon as you both got inside of the house, both of you get changed, and when you near the couch, alessia pushes you down and completely lies on top of you. you let out a little laugh when she sinks her weight into you. you place your hand under her hoodie to roam your hands on the skin of her back, the girl hums at your contact.

she moves to hover over you, smiling at you brightly.

“my pretty girl” you whisper affectionately, puckering your lips up at her, she immediately moves to kiss you, kissing each other softly until you grab the back of her head to deepen the kiss. you both pull away breathlessly, smiling at each other brightly.

“i’m so happy you gave me a fire safety lesson” she says cheekily,

“well i’m not going to say i’m happy you almost died in a fire but i’m happy i saw you anyway” you remark with a wink, grinning at her, she groans in embarrassment, hiding her face in your neck, you let out a bright laugh, holding her close to you.

—

whenever you and alessia visited each other at work, you would look at each other so proudly, bragging and showing each other off. everyone could see how in love with each other you were, incredibly endearing for the ones that were trying to set you up on dates for years and years.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

liked by leahwilliamsonn and 44,232 others

alessiarusso99: i’ll commit arson if it means i get to see her in this uniform

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yourname: have we learnt nothing?

↳ alessiarusso99: i learnt that i love a woman in uniform?

↳ yourname: baby, do we need another fire safety lesson? seems like you learnt nothing from our previous ones

↳ alessiarusso99: hm, i think i do

↳ yourname: minx

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader

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outsideratheart · 8 months

Text

Bees land on the prettiest flowers (Lia Wälti x reader)

A/N: A Lia fic? You’re just a surprised as I am. Also, 10 points to the first person that can tell what tv show a scene in the fic is from.

After the rush of the summer that was the World Cup and the devastation that came with crashing out the champions league before it even began, you found the air around Adidas' HQ in Germany quite refreshing. It would be your home for the next couple of weeks as you and the rest of the team focus on preparing for the upcoming season.

You had a plan this year, one which you was determined to follow if you stayed healthy. Something that wasn't part of this plan was Lia Walti.

The swiss woman caught your eye the moment she step foot in Colney yet despite the encouragement you got from your team mates and the urge to ask her out, you couldn't, in fact you would go so far as to say you bailed at every opportunity. By the time you were ready it was too late because she started dating Caitlin and you knew you couldn't let your selfishness get in the way of her happiness. It’s why you put Lia in the what if box in your head and sealed it shut. Only now the light started to shine through the box and the reason for that was because Lia and Caitlin had broken up.

It seemed that the higher powers had given you another chance but a lot had changed over the past couple of years. You and your heart wasn't the same and you weren't sure if you were ready to care about someone on a deep level.

A knock on the door brought you out of your daydreaming and as you opened it you saw Lia stood on the other side with a nervous expression on her face.

"Hello you, come in" you step aside allowing enough space for the Swiss to enter.

"Actually I was hoping you'd come out"

You both knew what she meant but the way she phrased it causes you both to burst into laughter. Once you both catch you breath Lia rephrases her sentence.

"Would you like to go for a walk with me?" Lia asks still standing on the threshold.

Her intentions wasn’t clear but you couldn’t turn down one on one time with her. The feelings that you once felt were still there, they were simply buried down deep.

“Sure, let me grab a hoodie and we’ll go”

“There’s no need for a hoodie. I haven’t got one”

That she hadn’t. Lia was dress is a pair of sweatshorts and a tank top. If her attire was anything to go by then it was a nice evening outside.

The weather was perfect. Not too warm but not too hot. The sky was pink but turning into a burnt orange and here you were with one of the most beautiful girls you have ever met. It made you wonder what you did in your past life that allowed to have a moment like this.

You walked past the pool saying hi the players that were watching a movie. Those on the loungers knew better than to tease you so they left you be but made a mental note to ask you about it later.

You knew Lia well almost too well because as you walked you saw her chest rise and fall but it would hitch before it falls, she was hesitating. Another tell of this was the way she opened and closed her mouth unaware that you could see the action out the corner of your eye.

It is when you walked through the perfectly maintained garden area that you decide to confront her about it. You could smell the fresh roses and you got distracted by the bright colours of each flower but it only lasted a second then your attention returns to Lia.

“What going on that head of yours?” You ask as you both stand admiring the lilies.

Lia is about to respond but the buzzing of a bee causes you to freeze. Your heartbeat doubles in pace as you watch the yellow and black insect land on her exposed chest.

“Don’t move. Stand still” you beg her.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

Lia follows your eyes which are fixed on her chest. There she sees the reason for you concern yet she doesn’t have the same response. This alone lets her swat away the bee with no hesitation.

“No! Don’t do that” the desperation in your voice and the panic in your eyes scares Lia more than the possibility of a bee sting.

“It’s only a bee”

Lia’s actions had clearly agitated the insect and you hear a buzz at a high volume before it flew away.

“Ow” Lia says calmly.

“Are you ok? Can you breathe?” You asked her but it was your shortness of breathe that was an issue.

“It’s only a sting”

“Are you sure?”

Fear consumes you as memories of the past flood your mind. Your chest feels like it’s on fire and you try and fail to bring your breathing back to a steady pace.

Lia can tell immediately that something is very wrong. In hopes of calming you down she takes your hand and holds it over the sting on her chest. She then takes her own hand holds it over your chest. It forms a connection between the two of you.

“I’m ok Y/N. It’s just a bee”

“Don’t say that!” Your concern was replaced with anger because Lia refused to see the severity of the situation “go get checked out by the doctor. Now”

You felt helpless and you knew you were no longer in control of your emotions. You needed to leave even if your heart wanted to stay with Lia.

The Swiss had no option other than to watch you walk away. She wanted to go after you but your words are loud in her head. She knew it was best for her to go see the team doctor.

As she walked back into the facility, Lia tried to make sense of your reaction. Never had she seen you react like that and even though she saw it first hand she could believe it herself.

“Did you enjoy your date?” Beth teases.

“It wasn’t a date. I just wanted some alone time with Y/N” Lia corrects the blonde forward.

“Isn’t that the definition of a date?” Jen adds.

“It doesn’t matter now. She ran off and left me by the flower beds”

This made no sense to anyone at the table especially the two blondes who you play with on the national team with.

“What happened?” Leah asks.

“We went for a walk and ended up in the gardens. I was nervous, she picked up on it and I thought she was going to ask me about it but then there was a bee and she freaked out. I think she was having a panic attack and it only got worse when it stung me”

“You got stung by a bee while Y/N was next to you?” Beth asked. She made eye contact with Leah who nodded her head, the defender would go check on you whilst Beth made sure the Lia was ok.

Leah stood in front of your door taking a couple of seconds to figure out how to handle the situation. She remembers the moment you showed up on her doorstep and went on to tell her that you had just experienced the worst day of your life.

She used her room key given that you were sharing for the trip and the sight she is met with isn’t one she could prepare for. You are laid on your bed in a fetus position. Your eyes are dry but the puffiness in your face told Leah that you had been crying.

“Y/N” she speaks in a hushed tone.

“Lia’s going to die, isn’t she?”

To anyone outside your immediate family that which included a handful of your England team mates, they would have called you dramatic. Leah was one of the select few which understand why your mind went to worse case scenario.

“She’s fine”

“I thought my dad was fine next thing I know I had these two fingers on his neck trying to find a pulse” you hold up middle and index finger.

“Y/N what happened to your dad was devastating. Nobody knew he was allergic”

“And you don’t know that Lia isn’t. I was the reason my dad died and now I’m going to be the reason she dies”

“It’s wasn’t your fault” Leah sit nexts to you on the bed “As for Lia, she is ok. She came back in to us and was going to see the doctor. Something that I’m guessing was your idea”

You nod your head. Your worrying stopped for a mere second knowing that Lia had listened to you and was hopefully getting the help she needed.

“Y/N you like Lia and have done for a while. You told her to go see the doctor but didn’t go with her, why?”

“I didn’t want to see her in pain”

“She isn’t in pain. Come with me and I’ll show you. We don’t have to talk to anyone but you need to see with your own eyes that she is ok”

Reluctantly, you agree and follow Leah through the halls of the HQ. Each step you take feels heavier than the last because in your mind you have seen how this story ends and you don’t want to see it, not again. So you took your time, you pretended to check in every room that you passed even though the blonde beside you knew exactly where the Swiss was.

Turns out Lia was in the exact same position as when Leah left her only now she has a white patch where the bee had stung her and she had some company. Out of the players one stood out to you; Caitlin.

You and Leah stood at the entry way. Just as Leah was about to walk towards the table you pulled her back.

“What? She’s fine, look” Leah tried to pull you towards your team mates despite her prior statement about not talking to anyone.

“She’s fine — with Caitlin” you could see Lia was ok but you couldn’t bring your self to watch her interact with the Aussie even if they were no longer together.

Knowing that Lia wasn’t going to face the same fate as your father lifted the crushing weight off your chest. You walked with no destination in mind. You didn’t want to go back to your room so you settle on a sun lounger by the pool. A staff member asking if you want to play the next movie the team had lined up and you saw no reason not to; a movie by the pool didn’t sound too bad.

Pitch perfect played but whilst your eyes were glued to the project screen, your mind felt like it was a million miles away. That is until you see a shadow cast over the lounger you were sitting on.

“Do you mind if I sit?” Lia asks.

You had chose a double lounger so you didn’t have an excuse not let her.

“Ok” your voice is quiet and although you don’t turn to face her, you do pat the side next to you.

The two of you watch the movie. The only sound to be heard is when you both laugh at the same part.

“Are you really ok?” You ask, still with your eyes on the screen.

“I am. Thank you for making me getting checked out, I wish you would have come with me”

When you turn you see that Lia is already looking in your direction.

“I — I”

“You were mad at me” Lia thinks she is finishing your sentence and but you been mad at her wasn’t the issue.

“I was scared” you take a pause because you know the only way for Lia to understand your reaction is for you to explain why seeing her get stung by a bee worried you so much “My dad was stung by a bee”

“And he was ok” Lia said, always the optimist.

“He went into anaphylactic shock. I didn’t know what to do and by the time I did it was too late. He died in the botanical gardens near my house”

“Y/N I didn’t know. Is that why you panicked? Because you thought the same thing that happened to your dad was going to happen to me?”

You can only nod. The admission itself brings back the worry that you had only just managed to settle.

In a similar way to how she did in the gardens, Lia reaches for your hand and places it over the patch. She pulls it a little so that you weight shift and your head in now resting on her shoulder.

“I’m ok. I went to the doctor, he asked me a couple of questions, cleaned the sting and gave me the all clear”

Silence yet again becomes the third wheel to the movie night you are Lia are accidentally having.

“I don’t want to lose you. It’s already happened once and now I’m just getting you back” you admit.

“Y/N I’m not going anywhere. There’s a reason why I wanted to take a walk with you, why I wanted to spend time with you and only you”

“Because you want us to be friends, like we were before”

“I never wanted us to be friends. Life got in the way and I spent too much time loving the wrong person when I knew she wasn’t the one I wanted to be with”

You knew what she was insinuating, the context wasn’t hard to decrypt.

“Am I that one?” You needed to hear her say it so that you knew this moment wasn’t a dream.

“You are but I know now more than ever that your heart is still healing so we’ll go at your pace”

How do you reply to that without opening an emotional can of worms? After thinking for a few seconds you decide not to say anything at all. Instead you turn deeper into her so that your head is resting on her chest, close enough so that you can hear her heart beat, her healthy heart beat.

#lia walti x reader #Lia Walti imagine #Lia Walti one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #swisswnt x reader #swisswnt one shot #swisswnt imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #Arsenal wfc one shot #Arsenal wfc imagine

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torotauri · 5 months

Text

I Don't Deserve You | Kang Hyewon

1190 Words

***

University on a Saturday, it was supposed to be the fun day. Activities, football matches and going to the pub with mates for watch the games broadcasted on TV. However, not for you, not this week at least. You can't do anything because you injured your knee. All you can do today was just stay home and sit in bed for the whole day by yourself.

It all happened because of an injury, you sprained your knee last week in a football game, damaging your ACL and ultimately causing you to miss the game today. The final game of the calendar year. You wanted to end your year on a high, but it looks like you were going to end the year on the bed, doing nothing.

With all finals being over and one more week on classes left, everyone on campus was enjoying themselves. Going to the pub, celebrating with mates, doing fun stuff with people they know and fraternities are advertising their fun parties they have this weekend. However, you can't do any of these because the doctor told you to avoid any form of activities that will put stress on your knee for at least a month, meaning your life was pretty much meaningless.

Despite this, your girlfriend of two years was being pretty supportive to you. Of course she was, she was part of the university cheerleading team so naturally she was going to be cheerful. She was always your cheerleader, cheering you on when you were on the pitch, going through every highs and lows with you, by your side and making every lows of life better for you.

Kang Hyewon was really the perfect girl, not just for you but for the university as well. She was popular, pretty and also head of the cheerleading sorority. Every guy wanted to date her but there was only one lucky guy who can call himself her boyfriend and that guy was you.

Even now, when you were out injured, Kang Hyewon told you that everything was going to be alright, making sure you feel better. She knows that there was only two loves in your life. Football and Kang Hyewon. However, despite Kang Hyewon thinking she has made you feel better about not being able to play the last game of the calendar year, it was still you having to stay home alone today because she had to go to the game with other cheerleaders to cheer on the university football team.

It was not a good thing being alone at this state, you started to think. Thinking about a lot of stuff. Thinking about what would happen in the game before moving on to thinking about deeper stuff. Starting off with thinking about what would happen if your knee never recovers or if the situation with your knee gets even worse, before finally thinking about your relationship with Kang Hyewon.

Kang Hyewon, like you said, was one of the most popular and prettiest girl in the campus. The head cheerleader status she got a few months ago only made her more popular and more wanted around the campus.

With that you started thinking if you really deserved her?

You only started with her from a friends with benefits relationship when you both entered university, but slowly became in love with each other. However, the romance have been dying lately. The two of you have been feeling comfortable with each other, living together has seemed to kill the romance and you two have stopped going on romantic dates for a while now.

Plus watching her simps around her and people trying to hit on her didn't help with this situation.

You thought about it long and hard, you really didn't deserve her. She deserved someone better, someone more romantic and someone who actually can give her the love that she deserves. What she doesn't deserve was someone like you, a guy who is nothing without football, a guy who isn't romantic at all. She deserves love and you just can't give her the love that she deserves.

As much as you loved her and wanted to be with her, you just know that you can't give her what she deserved, there are a lot of other guys out there in the university who are willing to give her what she deserved. All the guys who you have saw hit on her was right, she deserve someone better, someone who isn't you.

As much as you hate to do this, you feel like something has to be done to rectify this situation. You needed to do something you didn't want to do.

Whilst you were deep in thought, deciding what you were going to do, the door open and your girlfriend Kang Hyewon walk through the door.

"Hey, I'm back. How's your day" Kang Hyewon asked as she walked through the door to see you sat on the sofa with the remote control in your hand and the TV on SkySports Main Event.

"So no change for you then" Kang Hyewon sat next to you as she took the remote control out of your hand.

You snapped back into life as Hyewon took the remote control out of your hand, you were so deep in thought that you didn't even saw her come sit next to you.

"How's your day been" Hyewon asked you again.

You just hugged her tightly which surprised Hyewon a little bit but she hugged you back not knowing what has gone through your mind.

"Hyewon, I don't deserve you" you said whilst hugging her tightly "I really don't"

Hyewon was surprised to hear what you just said. She didn't know what was going on, she has heard people tell her that she deserved better, but she never thought you would think that way as well.

"What are you saying" Hyewon said pulling out of the hug, surprised at what she just heard.

"You deserve better, not someone a weirdo like me who just sits around all day watching football" you responded.

"But I don't want better, I want you. I know people have been saying I can date better guys than you, but they don't give me what you give me. I feel safe around you. Sure, you do eye other girls up and prioritise football over me, but you're a good guy deep down" Hyewon responded.

"No I'm serious, you deserve to be in a relationship with someone who's more romantic than me" you stated, making your point very clear

At that moment, Hyewon kissed you on the lips.

"If I really think I deserved someone better, then I would have left you. We've been together two years already and even when we broke up a year ago, we got back together. Sometimes, love is not always about the romantic stuff, it's about being comfortable and feeling safe. You give me that sense of safety and comfort which is something that nobody else can give me" Hyewon said making you feel better.

The two of you shared another kiss, this time more passionate.

"You know, there is one romantic thing you are really good at, why don't we do that" Hyewon said as she broke the kiss looking deep into your eyes with lust.

#kpop fanfiction #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpopfanfic #kpop idols #kpop fluff #izone #izone hyewon #kang hyewon #hyewon

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lovemaiyo · 7 months

Text

lovesick . romance tropes with blue lock . (full length fics coming up soon!!) .

" hey nana, no matter how much or how often people hurt each other, loving someone is never a waste .

ISAGI childhood friends to lovers & in the rain you always admired isagi. every since the age of 7, he had been obsessed with football. it was really rare to find a passion and ambition like his. and he was so nice to you! and cute.. and hot.. and driven.. and- okay, you liked him. like, a lot. but he was in love with someone.. something else. football. it was what he lived for. but you were next, really. isagi would come to you with stories, ideas, and just about anything. and you would listen religiously, because that was the only thing you could do to keep your heart from bursting. these habits, and your 10 year crush, carried on until high school. you were neighbors, so you always walked with him to school and back. it looks like someone forgot to read the weather report today, because it's rainy with a chance of a confession. "you like me? i like you too. you're my best friend!" "yoichi. i like you. like, like like. like love." "i love you too!" ".. yoichi isagi. it's been 3652 days since i've liked you." "oh. that kind of like."

RIN enemies to lovers & academic rivals to lovers you hated itoshi rin. you HATED him. you hated how he always acted all high and mighty and thought everyone was below him and called everyone that didn't fit his high ass standards "lukewarm." you hated how your name was always second to "itoshi rin." in every exam, in every lesson. you hated him and he hated you right back (or you thought) though, that didn't really explain why he was standing in front of you with a heart shaped box, eyes wandering across the room, one hand scratching his neck bashfully, with a little bit of blush on his cheeks. your jaw almost dropped. yeah, you hated itoshi rin, but was he always this pretty? his eyes were spotify green cerulean, and his hair framed his face perfectly. now, up close, you noticed that his eyes weren't blue ー they were teal. his jawline was sharp. was it bad that you wanted to kiss it? was it bad that you wanted to kiss him? "HUH?????? I THOUGHT YOU HATED ME?" wow, excellent thing to say to your crush!!! woooo!!! you dumb bitch.. "hated you? uh.. i never really hated you.." "oh..." "yeah.." silence.

CHIGIRI stuck in a elevator & hot neighbor

wow, moving was the best decision you ever made. the rent was way lower, the community was friendly, and your neighbor was, well.. hot. hot as fuck. he was tall, with long and silky red hair, and the prettiest pink eyes. and he was really nice. cookies on the day you moved in, frequent hi's and hello's, and he even invited you for dinner some day! no doubt, you were head over heels. and how could you not be? he made one hell of a pasta. so, would it be considered good, or bad that you're currently stuck in an elevator with him? you were going out to meet some friends, you so did your makeup and everything. he just got back from the gym. god, he was really eye candy. "you look nice. who're you all dolled up for?" "just some friends. you?" "got back from the gym." "so.." "hm?" and then there was a crash. ".." ".." "holy shit. what was that."

KUNIGAMI best friend's older brother & protecting you

ever since you were eight, still watching icarly on the tv and dressing up dolls with your best friend, you had been MADLY smitten with her older brother. honestly, who wouldn't be? he was so nice, treated you with utmost care even when you were younger then him. he never lost his calm, he was always kind, and... he was extremely handsome. you always chased after him, but he always just thought you were his little sister's best friend. naturally, you enrolled in the same college as him. you were only a year younger, and with the mindset that kunigami only liked smart girls, you got into college with amazing grades. so why was it, that every time you tried to dress up all cute for him, he barely paid attention. it wasn't like you were in the same friend group, but really? just a occasional 'wow, those clothes suit you.' and a smile? how dense was this guy? and on top of that, you always attracted unwanted attention. "hey, girl, let's go out." ".. no." "why not? listen, i have a lot of girls chasing me, and i chose you. you must be honored." "i have a boyfriend.." "sure you do. listen, just give it up." he moved his arms towards you. "no means no." a familiar voice said, grabbing that creepy guy's hands. "and who're you?" ".. her boyfriend."

REO fake dating

the silence was deafening. "what. did you just say?" "i said, date me. for 2 weeks, fake date me. just to get my parents off my back." .. is he being for real? you knew mikage reo since you were 5. your parents and his parents were business partners, so you saw each other a lot. it was him, with his little purple bowlcut, at 5 years old, who excitedly took your hand and introduced himself. reo quickly became a close friend of yours - until he moved overseas for his little football trip or something. you hadn't seen him in years, yet he came back, knocked on your door, and made this crazy proposal. sure, he'd grown into a hot guy.. a little bit too hot. his fluffy purple hair framed his beautiful face perfectly, and his curious eyes looked at you, waiting for your answer. his lean and toned arms were visible from the black half sleeve he wore, and traces of a fully defined body were visible from under... maybe this wouldn't be such a bad idea? "so? yes or no?"

NAGI sharing a room

going on a trip with your crush was the BEST thing that had ever happened to you. well, it was until about 10 minutes ago. reo, your mutual friend, decided to sponsor a trip for every one of his friends for reasons only god knows. you all met at the lobby of the expensive hotel he booked, and drew straws to see who'd get which room. reo, being the sore loser he was, (no reo hate i love reo) switched up the straws as soon as he got the shorter one. so, just your luck, right? getting stuck with your crush, nagi seishirou, in one room. you're so gonna kill reo when you get out of this. "uhh, i can take the floor?" you offered. "okay. take it then." he said, plainly. your eye twitched at his pettiness. ".. nevermind!! i'm taking the bed." "hey." he frowned "we flip a coin.. i'm heads." actually, your luck was sort of good. it landed on tails! "this thing is rigged..." he grumbled while getting ready to sleep on the floor. which somehow included taking off his grey sweatshirt, to reveal abs and a body like a greek god.. wait, why were you even staring?? "soo... uh.. do you always take off your shirt before going to bed?"

lovemaiyo 2023. do not steal.

#🍓 penned by mai #isagi x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #chigiri x reader #hyoma chigiri x reader #hyouma chigiri x reader #kunigami x reader #rensuke kunigami x reader #reo x reader #mikage reo x reader #nagi x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #seishirou nagi x reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader

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