#when my parents let me have one extra hour to play before bed

[storiesforallfandoms]

i need someone older ~ william afton;five nights at freddy's

word count: 3794

request?: no

description: after a bad breakup, she finds herself becoming more and more attracted to her much older boss

pairing: william afton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is mid 20s, afton is 50s), power imbalance technically (but it's fine), bit of an au (so he doesn't unalive anyone in this one)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I stormed into work, really pushing it for time. I had slept past my alarm and was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to work eight hours in a children's restaurant, with screaming kids and the animatronics playing the same three songs all day. But I needed the money, and hopefully a distraction.

"Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?" my coworker, Adam, asked.

"Fuck off," I muttered. "I gotta go change into my uniform. Can you punch me in so I'm not late?"

"Yeah. Be quick, though. Afton's here."

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even know our names. He's not going to know I'm supposed to be on the clock."

I changed as quickly as I could while having limited space in a tiny bathroom stall. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack and did a quick double check in the mirror to make sure I was work appropriate. I wasn't paying enough attention as I stepped out of the bathroom and managed to literally run into someone who was walking past. I cursed under my breath as I looked up and came face to face with the fucking owner of Freddy Fazbear's.

As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"|'m so sorry, Mr. Afton," I said.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where's the fire, though? You seem like you're in a hurry."

How do I answer this without getting in shit? "I'm just, uh...trying not to be late. I had to change, and bring my bag to my locker."

William looked down at his watch. I felt my heart starting to pound.

"Cutting it a little close there," he commented.

"I know."

My grip on my bag had tightened as I braced for the worst. I had never met William before. Despite owning the restaurant, he was rarely ever around. Whenever he was, he was usually tucked away in his office for most of the day and only ever spoke with our manager. Due to this, I didn't know if he would be a hard ass who was about to write me up for running late. After the events of the previous night, I didn't think I'd be able to take getting reprimanded today.

He took me by surprise when he smiled and said, "Just don't let it happen again, okay?"

I nodded, unable to form any words, and scurried around him to the lockers.

Adam looked at me when I finally returned to the floor. "What took you so long?"

"I ran into Afton," I responded.

His eyes widened. "Did he give you shit?"

"Luckily no. Just told me not to let it happen again."

"I warned you that he was here."

I flipped Adam off when I was sure none of the kids could see me.

As if my day couldn't get any worse, my manager came to tell me that I was stationed on the prize counter for the day. The prize counter was probably the worst part of the restaurant. There was never any downtime at the counter. Either there was rowdy children hopped up on candy and pizza screaming about wanting toys they didn't have enough tickets for, or there were tired parents wanting to buy tokens for the arcade games while their rowdy kids were nearby screaming. Not to mention it was right next to the main stage, so the sound of screaming children was only matched by the sound of pre-recorded music coming from the animatronics' speakers. And to top it all off, the closing duties for the prize counter took longer than any other section of the restaurant.

It was the worst section to work, and I already wanted to leave just knowing that was my station for the day.

The only plus side was that being kept busy made the day fly by. But the usual craziness of Freddy Fazbear's was extra unbearable to a point where I felt myself on the edge of tears numerous times. I knew it was going to be a bad idea for me to be at work, and I was really regretting coming in.

I let out a sigh of relief as the last family finally left and the animatronics finally powered down. Adam laughed at me as I put my head down on the cool glass that held the prizes. "You're giving yourself more work to do."

I looked at the smudge I had left on the glass before glaring up at him. "I don't think my one smudge is making things any worse."

"Okay seriously, what is up with you? You've been grumpy all day."

I sighed and shook my head. "I had a bad night."

"Do you want me to help you close up so you can get out of here sooner?"

I gave him a look. "We both know you don't actually want that."

"But I'd do it to help you."

"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. My annoyance and desire to leave will make me work faster."

Adam didn't fight me on it anymore. He said goodnight and clocked out. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I immediately got to work with cleaning. That was the easiest part as all I had to do was clean the glass of the prize case and pick up the discarded tickets from the floor. When I finished that, I started counting the cash in order to close it off. That was supposed to be another easy task, but my mind being anywhere but the task at hand made it so much harder.

Restocking the prizes was the hardest part. I had been on my own for nearly an hour, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so I was trying to rush out of there but found myself fumbling a little extra. I was trying to dump a box of tiny soldier toys into their respective bin when the box slipped from my hands and landed on its side, the toys scattering all over the floor.

It was my breaking point. Everything finally came crashing down around me and the flood gates finally opened. I lowered myself to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter. I buried my head into my hands and began to sob.

"Seems like a bit of a strong reaction to dropping some toys."

I jumped and looked towards where the voice had come from. I was sure I was the only one left in the restaurant, everyone else having left while I was doing my closing duties. Even my manager had left, giving me the keys and the code to the security system. But, turns out, I was wrong, because there was William Afton leaning over the counter to look down at me.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. "S-Sorry Mr. Afton. I-I didn't realize - "

"Hey, it's okay," he said, cutting me off and speaking in a soft voice. "What's going on? You seem stressed."

"It's...personal things. I shouldn't have let it interfere with my work."

"Fuck the professional shit for a second here. Forget I'm your boss, forget we're on the clock. If there's anything going on that you want to talk about, I'm all ears."

I leaned against the counter across from him. "It's stupid."

"You're crying, so I don't think it's that stupid."

I sighed. "My boyfriend broke up with me last night, after admitting he's been cheating on me for the last three months."

William whistled in response. "That's tough."

I nodded. "It just...came out of nowhere. We've been together for three years, moved in together last year. There was no signs that anything was wrong. I didn't even suspect that he was cheating. He came home last night and suddenly told me everything. Packed a bag and went to his...I guess...girlfriend's house. Told me he'd be back at some point this week to get his stuff."

Tears were stinging my eyes again. I looked away so William wouldn't see me cry anymore. Upon looking down, I realized my bare arms were on the glass of the prize counter, leaving smudges again. I cursed under my breath and turned to grab the cleaner again.

"Here, let me," William said, reaching for the cleaner. "You pick up the toy soldiers and I'll help restock the prizes once I finish this."

I was a little shocked, but definitely was not about to argue over getting help. We worked much quicker as a team and, finally, I was able to clock out to leave. I stood by as William set the security system and locked the gates.

"Thank you for helping me," I said.

"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It seemed you needed help, and I wasn't about to let one of my employees struggle while I was on the property." I smiled at him and started for my car. "For what it's worth - " I paused and turned back to him. " - your ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot. You seem like a great woman. Don't beat yourself up over him."

He smiled and turned to walk towards his own car. I watched him go, surprised by what he said. Even through the cold night air, I could feel my face burning.

~~~~~~

William was around more after that. Not just in his office, but he was actually out on the floor. Everyone was noticing his increased presence, but I found myself noticing it in a different way. Whenever William was near, my eyes were practically glued to him. I found it difficult to concentrate whenever he was around. Luckily, everyone else was so distracted by his presence that they didn't notice how useless I had become.

It was wrong. I knew that. Having a crush on a coworker was bad enough, but a crush on your boss was a whole other level of bad. Especially when your boss is so much older. I had no idea whether or not he was even married or had kids for God's sake!

But every time I saw him, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. I wanted him in a way I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop myself.

During one of my shifts, I was put on the serving section. Serving was easy enough - take orders, bring food, check on tables. The hardest part was trying not to trip over a child running past while carrying a whole pizza on a hot tray. Most of us had learned the art of scanning the area before we walked, but sometimes you just don't notice quick enough and end up surprised by one of those little fuckers.

One of the cooks passed a pizza through the pass to me and told me the table number. I took the tray and balanced it against my shoulder, something I found was the easiest way to balance the bigger trays. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but there were still enough kids running around that I took in my surroundings before I started to walk. I was making a mental note about two kids who were stood by the stage, dancing to the song that Freddy was "singing", and didn't notice another kid who was racing from one of the playrooms in front of me. I stopped suddenly, just short of running into him, but found myself losing my balance after he ran past.

I felt two hands grab hold of my waist, holding me upright and saving me from a very embarrassing scene. When I turned to thank my savior, I came to face the blue eyes I had been trying to desperately to avoid today.

"That could've been a disaster," William said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Th-thank you," I managed to stutter out. I could still feel the heat of his hands against my waist, like they were burning through the clothes and searing my skin. I almost forgot the heavy tray of pizza I was carrying in that moment.

When he let me go, his eyes still trained on me, I quickly turned and hurried to my table. I tried not to seem so flustered, but I knew I had failed. I stuttered through every sentence before finally dismissing myself to the prize counter where one of my other coworkers, Beth, was snickering to herself.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Don't ask," I responded.

"Oh, I'm asking. Are you all hot and bothered for Afton?!"

"Shh!" I snapped, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. Not like anyone would over the usual noise of the restaurant.

"Oh, you so are!" she said. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you know that's bad news right? He's literally our boss."

"I know he is. I'm not stupid. But...I can't help it!"

"At least he would be more of a gentleman than that small dick asshole you call your ex." She looked over her shoulder as the front door to the pizzeria opened. When she looked back, her eyes were wide. "Speak of the devil."

I looked over to see none other than the small dick asshole himself, Josh, walking in. I wished I could disappear into the floor and never be seen again. I tried to turn and walk away before he spotted me, but no luck.

"(Y/N)!"

I groaned and turned back to him. "What do you want, Josh?"

"I was just over getting the last of my stuff - "

"Awesome, I do not care. If you've come to give me your key back, you could've just left it on the dining room table."

"No, I came to say that I couldn't find my Springsteen album."

I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "So you came all this way to...what? Ask me what I did with it? I have no idea, Josh, I threw everything that was yours into boxes and garbage bags. If it's not in there, you might've left it in your car or at your new girlfriend's house."

"It's not any of those places." I wasn't sure if I should've been hurt about the fact that he wasn't addressing my last comment directly, but I definitely was a little bit.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I wanted to see when you were going to be off work and maybe I could come by to look for it with you."

I scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Josh, I don't know what the fuck happened to your album, but you're sure as hell not coming over to the house. That is not your place anymore, and you're very much not welcome there."

"Why can't we be adults about this?"

"You lost the right to being adult about this the second you decided to cheat on me! And how dare you say that shit, but then come down to my place of work to try and, what, harass me into letting you back into my home? We're over, Josh. I don't ever want to see you again. If I find any of your shit left at the house, I'll drop it in the trash."

"What seems to be the problem here?"

I suppressed the urge to groan again. As if things couldn't get any more complicated.

"No problem, Mr. Afton," I said, turning to face William with the best, innocent smile I could muster. "Just an...unwelcome guest."

William looked at me for a moment before letting his eyes wander to Josh. I didn't have to say much else for him to recognize who the "unwelcome guest" was and I could see anger in his eyes.

"Well, time to get back to work, (Y/N)," he said to me. "Your customers are waiting."

I nodded and ducked away from the situation. As I walked away, Josh called after me, "That's fine, I'll be waiting for you to get off! We can talk more then!"

"Like hell you will."

A collective gasp from the parents and Beth cause me to spin around to see William had grabbed hold of the collar of Josh's shirt. William was easily a head taller than Josh, so even if the act wasn't meant to be intimidating, he definitely looked intimidating. I don't think I've ever seen such fear on Josh's face. William turned Josh around and basically dragged him towards the front door.

"If I see you back here, I will have your ass arrested," he said as he threw Josh out of the restaurant. "Are we clear, punk?"

He didn't wait for a response as he pulled the door shut. I could see Josh standing there, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. William re-entered the main area, still looking angry, but tried to put on his best customer service smile as he addressed his new crowd. "Sorry everyone. Just an unruly customer. Sorry for any trouble."

To me he added, "Come see me in my office, please."

Beth and I exchanged a look before I followed William towards his office. I was so sure he was going to get upset with me. Not only had I brought my personal shit to the restaurant (even though that wasn't my fault), but it had also resulted in a not so great scene in front of the customers. People get to talking, and I was sure that this story was going to be spread through town before the night was out.

The moment I stepped into his office, I set in on the apologies. "Mr. Afton, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming. I've been trying to avoid him while he's moving his stuff out and I guess he was getting tired of that or wanted to poke me one last time or something - "

"Did he hurt you?"

I paused my rambling to look up at him. All anger was gone from his face and had instead been replaced by concern.

"What?" I asked.

"Did he do anything to you just then?"

I shrugged. "Not physically. He was definitely still trying to mess with me mentally, though."

William nodded. "Well, he's not welcome on the property anymore. If you see him, you have my full permission to contact the police immediately."

"I...I don't think that's entirely necessary."

"I don't mean to sound like an old man or anything, but I've met plenty of assholes like your ex, (Y/N). You give them an inch and they take a mile. If you don't deal with this now, he will continue to come back and harass you. I don't want that for you. You don't deserve that."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. I was realizing how close we were now. We were mere inches away from one another. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and touch him right now; grab him. I could've kissed him right then and there if I really wanted to. Who would've known?

As if reading my mind, William suddenly reached out and cupped my face. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was kind of ironic, the fact that I had just been thinking about doing this exact thing, but now that it was happening it was like my brain wasn't sure how to comprehend the situation.

William pulled away just as quickly as he had initiated the kiss. He backed away from me, suddenly worried. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."

In response, I pretty well threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with such force that it pushed him back into his desk. He positioned himself so that he was sat on his desk and basically pulled me into his lap. It was risky, anyone could've come by and caught us, but something about that just made the experience so much better; so much hotter.

William pulled away first again. I tried to chase his lips with mine, but he pushed me back, chuckling at my eagerness.

"Hold on," he said. "There's some things we have to discuss before this goes any further."

"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.

He laughed. "No, I'm not married. Divorced with a 10 year old daughter. That was the first thing I wanted to discuss, in case single dad is a dealbreaker."

"Very much not a dealbreaker."

"So...the age thing is also not a dealbreaker then?"

I shook my head. "If anything, I think that makes it kinda hotter."

A grin spread on his face. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But there is the big issue of the fact that I'm your boss."

It felt like I had been shoved off of cloud nine and come crashing down to earth. For a moment, I had forgotten that part. He was right, that was the biggest issue here. Kind of hard to get around it unless I ended up quitting, which I really did not want to do. It was nearly impossible to find a good paying job these days, and I needed this now more than ever since Josh wasn't going to be splitting rent with me anymore.

I climbed off of William's lap and stood across from him. "I guess...that is a big issue, huh?"

"I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything, and I don't want anyone to look at you any different because you're dating the boss."

I raised a playful eyebrow at him. "You jumped to dating pretty quickly there."

His smile was a little more bashful. "What can I say? I'm old school. I don't believe in hooking up or anything like that. If there's anything going on here, I want you to be able to classify it as a relationship."

In that moment, I found myself wondering why I hadn't always dated older men. I had wasted so much of my time on guys my age when I could've been dating someone who was actually a gentleman and cared about me and my feelings.

"Why don't we see where things go with this, and then we can tackle that big elephant in the room?" I asked.

"I think I can agree to that."

I took a step closer and said, "I really want to kiss you again, though."

He laughed and met me halfway, standing from his desk and taking my face in his hands again. When he kissed me, I felt like I was flying right back on to cloud nine.

#william afton #william afton imagine #william afton x reader #matthew lillard #matthew lillard imagine #matthew lillard x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Summary: You and Eddie finally get some much-needed alone time, and a confrontation at the Hawkins Preschool talent show tests your commitment to each other.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), protected p in v, fingering, oral (m! receiving), lil bit of edging, broken condom, breeding kink, mentions of Eddie's past, bullying, fighting, Jason Carver's mere existence, mostly fluff and smut before the angst of the next two chapters

WC: 9.2k

Chapter 15/20

Divider credit to @saradika Cutie pie Eddie pic credit to @/sunceddie

--

You wake up to an alarm set a full hour later than it typically is on a Friday morning, and the extra rest has you walking on air. Or maybe this newfound floatiness comes from knowing Eddie will be arriving soon, the two of you playing hooky from work to spend the day together. Your insides ignite with a rebellious fire, like you’re skipping class to smoke cigarettes underneath the bleachers, rather than taking a paid sick day that you’ve rightfully accrued.

Sunlight streams through the window, just a bit brighter than the usual smears of pink and orange that you normally see when you awaken. And while you still have to drag your yet-to-be-caffeinated body out of bed, the walk to the bathroom seems slightly less daunting. 

You can’t let Eddie in fast enough when the intercom buzzes thirty minutes later. You were never naïve to the fact that dating a parent would mean having less privacy; what you didn’t know was how strongly you’d crave him. 

Your hands are all over him the moment he steps through the door, simultaneously too much and not enough. Fingers lazily drape across the nape of his neck, and you can feel that his hair is already frizzy from the early April rain. Your breath hitches when you catch a glimpse of the burgeoning outline along the seam of his gray sweatpants. 

His lips find yours easily, aiming to meet in the middle, but you press on your toes and bring your core to his. Your pajama top is thin; not sheer, but flimsy enough that he can feel the way you react to the chill of his leather jacket. 

“Hello to you, too,” he murmurs with a laugh, muffled by a kiss that catches him off-guard. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to grab breakfast first, but—”

You shake your head, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the bedroom. “Sex first, food later.”

“Yes ma’am.” He uses his free hand to apply a quick smack to your ass, mesmerized at the way the supple flesh ripples underneath the flannel pants. Jesus, you’ve got him half-hard and you’re still in your pajamas. 

He sits on the side of the bed, and you climb to straddle him, your inner thighs nudging his outer. “Been thinking about you,” you say, tugging his earlobe between your teeth. 

Eddie pulls you even closer, one hand snaking up your shirt to cup your breast. He’s still cold from the rain and early morning frost, and his touch has your nipple pebbling. “What about me?” 

“Well,” you trill, starting to slowly grind against the tented fabric of his pants. He exhales, a shiver of anticipation coursing through his veins. “I believe I promised my rockstar a reward for his amazing gig.” Your thoughts flit back to the night of Will’s party, when you’d snuck backstage and gotten a glimpse of him, his body pulsating with nerves that had almost immediately quelled at your touch. Another sensation had swept over him then, but that was an entirely different type of flutter.

Eddie nudges his nose against yours, a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth. “Your rockstar?” He adores the phrasing. Yours. Belonging to you. And you belong to him; he won’t ever allow you to forget it. “What kind of reward did my favorite groupie have in mind?”

You slide off of him, giggling at the pout he gives you as your body loses contact with his. “Patience, Rockstar,” you warn him, though it’s difficult to contain yourself when you’re salivating just being eye-level with his erection. Your fingers dig into his waistband, and for the second time today, you’re glad for his choice of clothing. You don’t think you could handle buttons and zippers and belt buckles. Not today.

He hisses when your palm brushes along his hardened length, stiffening even while covered by his boxer briefs. A small wet patch marks his tip, leaking precum, and you press a chaste kiss to it. Almost instantly, you feel the tendrils of his thigh hair against your bare arms as his legs reflexively snap shut like a Venus flytrap catching its prey. 

“Too much?” you mumble against his happy trail. While you relish in the thought of overstimulating him, you want to keep him on edge as long as you can. 

Eddie shakes his head, curls scratching against his shoulders. “Jus’ wasn’t expecting it. ‘Cause you were using your hands, but then I felt your…never mind, I’m gonna shut up now.” He settles back into the mattress and eagerly awaits your next move.

You don’t make him wait long, lips drawn to his shaft with a magnetic force. You only stop to shimmy his underwear down his legs, tossing them to the corner of the room. His cock is flush against his tummy; you catch yourself staring at the dusting of wispy curls that trail from his upper groin down to his heavy sack. 

Your dominant hand wraps around the base while the other leans on his thigh for balance. You lean in and spit, letting your saliva dribble down his length before flattening your tongue to lick up the pearly bead forming at the tip. Eddie’s abdominal muscles contract and his fists clench, never taking his eyes off of the beautiful woman on her knees for him. 

He lets out a soft moan as you hollow out your cheeks to take more of him into your mouth. A string of syllables that barely resemble words escapes him. “Mmm, yes, oh, sh–fucking hell–thas’ it…” He twists the bedsheets between his fingers, inhaling sharply as your tongue glides up and down his cock. “S’pretty, fuck, gorgeous girl.” He watches intently, staving off blinks so he doesn’t miss a moment of him disappearing between your lips.

He’d once thought that he could never want more than sloppy post-gig hook-ups in dive bar bathrooms with girls whose names he’d never learned, though he wouldn’t have made an effort to remember them anyway. Girls who had only offered their mouths so they could lay claim to his body; the opportunity to brag that they’d blown Eddie Munson before he got famous.

That was before you, before you’d shown him the intoxicating mixture of longing and belonging, of lust and…

You continue drawing him closer and closer to his orgasm, nose grazing his thatch of pubic hair. His hips buck slightly, but your mouth is so full of him that it threatens to evoke your gag reflex. 

“Shit, ‘m sorry,” Eddie blurts out, unfurling a hand from the sheets to cup your cheek. He pulls out, allowing you to take a deep breath. 

You shake your head. “I liked it,” you tease with a wicked grin, wasting no time assuming your previous position. 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie throws his head back. “You like gagging on my dick? Fucking hell, babe.”

“Mhm.” The gentle vibration has him twitching, and you know he can’t last much longer. You bring your attention to his tip, sucking and giving soft kitten licks while your hand takes care of the rest of his length. He’s so painfully hard that you wouldn’t be surprised if he stayed that way long after finishing. 

“Jus’…just like that. Oh, fuuuuuck,” he groans, silently calling upon every ounce of willpower in his body to keep his pelvis still so he doesn’t disturb the beautiful rhythm you’ve found. “Gonna cum…shit, baby, if you don’t want it in your mouth, you gotta stop now.”

But you do want it in your mouth, so you don’t stop, feeling warm ropes adorning your tongue just seconds later. He’s panting, chest heaving as though he was the one putting in the effort, but he still notices the way you swallow his thick load without missing a beat. 

“Did you just…oh, my God. You’re perfect.” He throws his hands up in mock defeat. “I can’t…nothing I do will ever compare to you, I swear.” He motions for you to lay down next to him, and immediately climbs on top of you, the sweat from his chest transferring to your shirt. “Off,” he mumbles, pulling it over your head before you get the chance to do it yourself.

His lips swoop down to your left breast, tongue flickering over the nipple, and his dominant hand travels into your panties and expertly finds your clit. You let out a tiny whimper, barely audible over Eddie’s own grunts, finding pleasure in making you feel good. 

“This body,” he mumbles, mouth still attached to your chest, “has me in a goddamn chokehold. It’s all I think about.” That isn’t quite true; he certainly spends plenty of time daydreaming of you, though it isn’t always in such compromising positions. Sometimes, you’re sleeping next to him in bed as he presses gentle kisses to the nape of your neck. Other times, he’ll be cooking dinner and picture you passing him the salt or handing him a serving spoon to dish out whatever noodle-based concoction he’s conjured up. Whatever he’s doing, he imagines you by his side. 

“Can you kiss me?” Your request is timid but dripping with need. 

Eddie nods, bringing himself to eye level with you and closing the gap between your faces. You taste of minty toothpaste and of him, and he curses himself for diving in headfirst without remembering to kiss you. “M sorry,” he apologizes for the second time that morning, and you forgive him with a soft bite to his lower lip. 

Your arms rest on his shoulders and your legs wrap around his calf muscles, desperate to remain as close as possible at all times. No, you can’t stay like this forever, so you’ve got to make it count. “Need you inside me, Eddie.” Your voice nearly cracks, tears pricking at your lash line as the craving for him grows stronger. “Please.”

Eddie musters up a terse laugh. “Sweetheart, I just came, like, five minutes ago. You gotta give me a second to bounce back.” He lowers himself so he can whisper in your ear, “let me take care of you while we wait, hm?”

As soon as you nod, he’s yanking down your pajama pants and panties in one fluid motion. You can’t miss the way his eyes light up once you’re fully on display for him, taking in every centimeter of your body like his existence depends upon it. He starts to shimmy his way down, but your murmured “mm-mm” captures his attention.

“Still want you kissing me,” you say, gazing adoringly into his deep brown eyes. “Maybe you could just use your fingers?” 

His instinct is to protest; he’s been desperate to taste you again ever since his tongue last touched the most intimate part of you, but he can’t deny you what you want. He’ll do just about anything to keep a smile on your face.

Without further hesitation, Eddie’s lips are on yours. He braces himself on his elbows as his hands cradle your cheeks. You can feel the heat of his cock, still spent and flaccid, against the top of your thigh. He shifts slightly so he can press one thick finger into your pussy, dragging in and out so deliciously that you barely notice his tongue slipping into your mouth, deepening the kiss as you moan.

“Y’like that?” It’s a gratuitous question; he can feel how much you like it in the way you’re clenching around him. “Gonna make my girl feel s’good.”

“Call me your girl again,” you whine, punctuating the plea with a gentle buck of your hips. 

Eddie grins, ducking his head where your neck meets your collarbone and sucking lightly. It takes every ounce of strength he possesses not to mark you. He studies the moisture left behind by his lips and wishes it was the exquisite shades of blue and indigo that form when someone’s been claimed. 

He slides a second finger inside you. “My sweet girl,” he coos, just a hint of patronization laced within his deep voice, “you like being mine? Belonging to me?”

Your stomach flips at his words; a gnawing hunger for Eddie Munson. “Love it. I…I love being your girl.” You allow your mind to clear, absorbing his gaze, his touch, his skin. The graceful arch of your back beckons him to move faster, tongue peeking from between his plush lips as he concentrates on your orgasm.

Each stroke within you inches you closer to euphoria. Eddie’s thumb is pressed to your clit, cementing his determination to tip you over the edge. He hits all the right spots, committing them to memory; his own personal pathway to the heavens. 

It’s your turn to grab onto the bed sheets like a lifeline as pleasure surges through you. Your lips coat his in a warm layer of “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” the praise a victory chant to him. He waits until your eyelids flutter back open and your breathing steadies before taking his fingers from your center and into his mouth, licking your release off of his skin like a delicacy.

Your body may be splayed out on the bed, but your mind is adrift; its only focus is the float down from the high Eddie’s brought you to. If it weren’t for the throbbing reminder pressed to your leg, you might float right into the atmosphere.

You summon the willpower to prop yourself up on your elbows, watching intently as he fists himself to temporarily ease the ache.

“Why’re you doing that when ‘m right here?” you mumble, wetting your lower lip with a swipe of your tongue. You can only hope that there’s some semblance of a smile in your intoxicated expression. “Unless you…prefer your hand?”

“Fuck, no,” he grumbles, curls dancing along his shoulder blades as he loosens his grasp to dig through your top drawer. He shoves aside stray prescription bottles and various knickknacks that you’ve been meaning to go through until he finds what he’s been looking for.

He snatches up the teal box and practically tears the cardboard in half trying to open it. The snake of foil packets tumbles out and he scrambles for them, but you’re faster.

Wordlessly, you rip off one packet and carefully tear off the top. Eddie hisses as you roll the condom down his hardened length, more than ready to be inside you. 

“Wanna ride you,” you tell him, pressing your palms to his soft pecs. “‘S that okay?” 

“Is that—baby, if I ever say no to that offer, there’s something seriously wrong with me,” he laughs, already laying back on the bed. His hair splays across the pillow, brown curls swirling atop the cotton pillowcase like Van Gogh’s Starry Night. 

Eddie inhales sharply as you sit above him, sheathed cock pressed to your heat in anticipation. He reaches out and grabs your breasts, one in each hand, kneading them in his palms. His thumbs brush over your nipples, gauging your reaction before giving them a small pinch. 

Your moan, coupled with the way you grind against him, confirms your satisfaction, but he still asks, “Y’like when I do that?”

You offer him a little smirk, cocking your brow as you cheekily reply, “You tell me.” 

He doesn’t have time to respond before you lift yourself and gradually sink down onto him, soaking in every moment of the delectable stretch. Bracing yourself on his chest, you feel him bottom out so he’s filling you entirely. 

“Fuck, Sweetheart.” His hands move from your chest to your hips as he helps you adjust to the newfound fullness. “So tight. Feels‘mazing.”

“Just wanna take care of you, Eds. You’re so good to me; I wanna be good to you.” You bounce up and down, moving your hips so no part of your walls remains untouched by him. 

He’s mesmerized at the jiggle of your flesh as it connects with his, momentarily rendering him speechless before he regains some composure. “You are. You’re so, so good for me. Can never get enough of my girl.”

You clench around him at the title ‘my girl’, earning you a smack to your ass. The sting makes you whimper, and he swiftly delivers another. 

“You’re gonna make me cum too soon,” he huffs, blown-out pupils drifting from your eyes to where your bodies are joined. 

You pause your movements to lean down, allowing him impossibly deep within you. “If it’s too much,” you murmur into his ear, hoping your edge-teetering tremble is hidden enough to effectively tease him, “maybe I should just…stop.” You slide your hips forward until only his tip breaches your hole. 

Eddie’s jaw drops in complete disbelief. “You…you can’t fuckin’ do that to me.” You expect him to push the rest of his cock inside you and thrust until he’s completely spent, so you’re caught off-guard when he pulls out entirely. “All fours. Now.” He emphasizes his request with another spank, this one harder than the rest. 

You oblige, palms pressed into the mattress and toes curled as you await him. He taps his shaft against your bottom once, twice, three times, and then plunges into your warmth. 

“Ah—fuck—Eddie!” you cry, feeling the telltale twitch that informs you he’s close. Really fucking close. And then another sensation—a soft pop. 

He realizes what it is before you do. “Fuckin’ condom broke!” he grumbles, pulling out again—even more begrudgingly than before—and tossing the split rubber to the floor. He opens a new one and rolls it on with lightning speed, eager to be enveloped in you once again. 

“Wish we didn’t have to use those,” you mumble, willing yourself to stay steady despite the push from his pistoning hips. “Be so much easier without them.”

Picturing you taking him raw—you wanting to take him raw—is the last straw. “Yeah? You wanna feel all of me, baby?” he growls, nearly inaudible over the sound of his pelvis colliding with your ass. “Want me blowing my load so fuckin’ deep inside you?”

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, feeling that delicate wave approaching the shoreline, desperate to crest. “That’s exactly what I want, Eddie.”

“Keep saying my name,” he orders, wrapping one arm around you so his middle finger lays on your clit. Every part he touches makes you weaker for him, scavenging for the relief of release.

“Eddie, feels s’good,” you moan, legs threatening to crumple beneath you. “No one makes me feel like this ‘cept you, fuck, Eddie!”

You finish around him, squeezing him until he’s spilling into the condom with a primal groan of your name. He stays draped over you for a beat before flopping back onto the bed. 

“You are…” he turns to you and grins as he searches for the right word, “spectacular.” He gingerly removes the barrier from his dick, tying it in a knot and tossing it into the trash can next to your nightstand. “C’mere.” 

You lay on his chest, the sweat cooling as it hits your cheek. “Did you work up an appetite?” you tease, kissing just below his tattoo of a demonic head, “I can grab us some cereal, or we might have some frozen Eggos I could throw in the toaster.”

Eddie smiles so wide it threatens to escape the confines of his cheeks. “Sex and breakfast? You spoil me, Sweetheart.”

“Yeah, well; we need energy to power us through round two.” You scoot upwards to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, the salt of his perspiration tangy on your lips. “Give me a few minutes, okay? Do you like syrup on your waffles?”

“And butter?” he asks with a hopeful smile, peering at you through long eyelashes that would have had you darting to Bradley’s Big Buy if you didn’t already have a stick of Land O’ Lakes in the fridge.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Yes, Your Majesty,” you say, giving his bare thigh a small tap. “Would you also care for some freshly-squeezed orange juice? I can have the chef whip some up right away.”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, slowly pushing himself up so he can help you in the kitchen. It dawns on him that he hasn’t felt this kind of peace after sex before; his mind has always been clouded with fears of getting too attached, of saying the wrong thing, of deluding someone into thinking he’s enough. 

“God, I love you.” The words tumble out before he can stop them, and he freezes in place, one leg through his underwear. “Fuck, I mean–”

“It’s okay,” you rush to reassure him, noting the red tinge forming on the tips of his ears. “I’d say that to anyone who offered me breakfast foods, too.” You give him room to accept the out, to brush off his confession as a slip of the tongue. There’s no use in awarding merit to an accidental comment, regardless of what your skipped heartbeat tells you.

He considers it, every synapse and neuron firing at warpspeed. Maybe he could convince himself that it was an accident if it was the first time he’d felt this, the way your sunshine radiates through him and warms him from within. But that was far from the truth. 

“No,” he finds himself saying, grasping onto every morsel of confidence he can find, “it’s not because of the food. I love you.” 

Your voice catches in your throat. You want to believe that he’s reciprocating your feelings, but something nags at you. “Are you sure it’s not because we just had sex? Because sometimes that—”

“No,” Eddie repeats himself, unfolding the waistband of his boxer briefs and walking to you. “Because it wasn’t about sex when you calmed me down after the parent-teacher conference. It wasn’t about sex when you taught Harris how to read and bowl and be a better person than I’ll ever be. It wasn’t about sex when you cheered me on during our last gig, and it wasn’t about sex when I saw you holding Ettie.” He takes a deep breath and holds your hands as he gazes into your eyes. “And even after having sex, it isn’t about sex. It’s about you being the one for me. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He kisses your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips. 

“I love you, too, Eddie.” 

Just five words, six syllables, and he’s a goner. Seriousness melts into a sappy smile as he cradles your cheeks and presses the tip of his nose to yours. “Holy shit, we’re in love.”

You kiss him, tongue nudging his as your torsos meld together. If your stomach wasn’t gnawing for something to eat, you’d start round two right then and there. 

Throwing on just a shirt and panties, you lead him into the kitchen before either of you can crawl back into bed. His hands never leave your body, snaking around your waist as you rifle through the freezer for the familiar yellow box. His head rests on your shoulder as you drop the waffles into the toaster and press the lever down.

“Eds?”

“Yes, my love?” he murmurs, pecking a soft kiss behind your ear. You both could have sworn that there was nothing better than him calling you ‘my girl,’ but you’re unashamed to stand corrected.

“Could you make yourself useful and grab some plates? Maybe get the syrup or butter?” you tease, noting the dramatic pout developing on his face. “What?”

“I’m keepin’ you warm,” he protests, sliding his hands over the cotton fabric of your faded t-shirt and grabbing your breasts. “And you’re not wearing a bra, so I gotta hold ‘em for you.”

He eventually obliges, setting two Chinette plates on the countertop and padding over to the refrigerator. He plucks the condiments from the side door and places them in the center of the table. 

“Cups, too,” you remind him with a cheeky grin, pointing to a cabinet to your right. “No drinking out of the carton in my house.”

“Bossy this morning, aren’t we?”

The toaster chimes a charismatic ding! as the waffles jump out of their slots, and you carefully drop both onto one plate. “Here ya go,” you chirp, extending your arm so he can take his breakfast. 

“Where’s yours?” His brows pinch together in confusion, a sly smile stretching his lips. “Don’t tell me I didn’t make you work up more of an appetite back there. Shit, shoulda had you ride me longer–”

Your hip collides with his in a purposeful shove. “I’m getting mine ready now. Go sit and eat, you horndog.” 

Eddie drops the plate on the counter so quickly that the Eggos nearly fly off, pulling you from behind for a hug that squeezes all the air from your lungs. You squeal as he bites your neck and barks into it, solidifying that he has indeed earned the new nickname you’ve bestowed upon him.

He takes one of his waffles and places it on your empty plate. “We can eat together.”

You grab the orange juice from the fridge, giving the carton a shake before pouring the contents between the two glasses. It’s not until you sit down that you remember: “Oh, shit—utensils.” You start to get back up, but Eddie puts a hand out in a silent bid for you to stay seated, shuffling back to the kitchen. The drawer rattles as he pulls with just a bit too much strength, and he comes back with two knives and a single fork. 

“You only got one—” you start, but he shakes his head. 

“Don’t need it.” With that, he cuts off a hunk of butter and slathers it on top of his waffle, knife scraping against the little squares. He slathers every square inch in syrup, folds the waffle in half, and takes an exaggeratedly large bite. 

“Eddie Munson!” you lightly chastise, still in shock at what you’ve witnessed. “Did you just eat that like a taco?”

“Sí, señorita.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, my God, I’m in love with a barbarian.” You reach for the bottle of Aunt Jemima and drizzle the sticky-sweetness onto your waffle. “What else is going on with you?” you ask, cutting the food into strips and spearing it with your fork. “Work’s good?”

“Work’s great, actually.” He starts to bring the waffle to his mouth but pauses just before taking a bite. Syrup drops onto the plate with a plop. “I almost forgot to tell you! The regional manager asked me to go to this thrift market in Indianapolis in a few weeks—all on the company’s dime—and try to snag some vintage records.”

“Eds, that’s amazing!” You leap up from your chair and lean in to kiss his syrupy lips. 

He licks a smudge of butter from the side of his thumb. “Oh, but that’s not even the best part,” Eddie grins triumphantly. “The market just so happens to fall during spring break, and I was hoping you could join us?” His bare foot nudges yours under the table. “That is, if you think you can survive an entire weekend running after Harris?”

Your jaw drops in mock-offense. “One of us chases after children–plural–every day. Besides,” you add, taking a swig of juice, “Harris isn’t the one I’m worried about.” You gesture at his partially-demolished breakfast. “At least when he eats like this, he has the excuse of being a child.”

His reply is a flick of his left middle finger, his right hand busy jamming the remaining waffle-taco into his mouth. “And yet,” he retorts with his mouth full, “you can’t seem to get enough.”

He’s got you there: all you’ve ever wanted is sitting in front of you now, the corners of his chocolate-brown eyes crinkling as he stands. You allow your eyes to roam his body; not with lust, but adoration. Love.

Your cheek yearns to be pressed to his chest, your hand resting where the soft pudge of his tummy barely rolls over the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs. Your legs crave the connection of intertwining with his. You need his arms, biceps strong from lugging around music equipment and holding his son, wrapped around your torso and keeping you impossibly close. Keeping you safe.

You want to spend hours asking about the stories behind the tattoos that adorn his chest, whether meaningful or the result of sheer boredom. You want to curl up on the sofa and put on a movie, absorbing none of it as you spend the entire duration lost in his lips. 

The brush of his thumb against your knuckles stirs you from your roaming thoughts. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Eddie sits up a bit straighter, hand never leaving yours. “Shoot.”

“Is it…” you fumble for the right words, “why are you like this now?”

“I’m sorry?” His brows knit together in obvious confusion. “Why am I like…what?”

“This,” you repeat, gesticulating at the man before you, warm and tender and completely unlike the stranger you’d hooked up with nearly eight months ago. “Why is the guy who once kicked me out of his apartment currently having breakfast with me half-naked and inviting me on a trip with his son?” Your tone is inquisitive, curious, and Eddie heaves a silent sigh of relief when he doesn’t detect a hint of judgment. 

He doesn’t answer your question outright; instead, he poses his own: “Do you not believe that I love you?” He bites his lower lip, mind churning with the early memories you’d made together, the ones he wishes he could lock away and never remember. 

Your heart lurches at your accidental implication. “I do! Shit, Eddie, I know you love me. And I love you, too.” You pause to lift his hand to your mouth, leaving the gentlest of kisses along his fuzzy knuckles. “I guess I just wanna know why you even let yourself love me. Why you didn’t stick to the Cat-and-Mouse. Why…why you chose me.” 

He exhales, an incredulous huff of laughter passing through his lips. “You wanna know why I started only having one-night stands? Or why I stopped?”

“Both?” you try.

“So, um,” his eyes look everywhere but at you, “I never really got attention until I moved to Chicago and started playing with that band. All of a sudden, women wanna sleep with me, and I don’t have to, like, beg them.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “But they didn’t really want to fuck Eddie Munson; they just wanted to fuck the lead singer and guitarist of Hard Knox. Didn’t matter if it was me or some other random guy.

“One night, I’m…y’know…with this one girl, and I asked her to say my name.” His cheeks tinge red and he swallows hard. “And she looks at me with these wide eyes, and I realized she didn’t even fucking know it.”

“Did you know hers?” The question comes out before you can stop it, but you already know the answer.

He rubs his eyes with his whole palm. “After that, I realized that the only difference between the Eddie who got laid and the Eddie who didn’t was that no one I slept with really knew me. And if they ever figured out that I’m just this big ol’ nerd who spent high school playing Dungeons & Dragons, they’d…” He flexes his hands to make a poof! motion. “So I decided not to let them get to know me.”

“But then…”

“But then,” he acquiesces, “you show up at the bar, looking like a goddamn dream, and I put up that cocky lead singer persona on instinct. Because that’s the only version of me that women ever wanted to be with.” He sighs. “And then I let my guard down, ask you to spend the night, and I’m thinking, ‘I gotta get her outta here before she sees who I really am. Before she sees that I’m not a rockstar; I’m just a mediocre dad who sells weed to scrape by.’”

You move so quickly that you practically knock over your chair, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around the top of his chest. Your chin rests on his scalp, and he can feel the vibration in your throat as you murmur, “nothing about you is mediocre, Eddie Munson.”

 He lays his head on your forearm, kissing it softly before lacing his fingers with yours. “Sometimes, I think I’m just buying time until you get sick of me.”

You shift your position so your lips can brush the side of his neck. “I didn’t fall for the guy on stage that night. I mean, yeah, you looked incredibly hot,” you tease and nip at his collarbone, “but I’m in love with Eddie Munson: the man who gets excited when his son reads a new word, who teases me for liking olives on my pizza, who knows the lyrics to every song ever made–including the ones he claims to hate.”

“Well, Eddie Munson–the real Eddie Munson–is so goddamn lucky to be loved by you.” He turns so he’s facing you, strong hands on your hips as he gazes up with starry eyes. 

You cradle his cheeks, stooping down so your noses touch. “You deserve to be loved.”

“Yeah.” The word is more breath than sound. “Yeah, I think I’m finally starting to believe that.” 

The remainder of your day is spent having copious amounts of sex; Eddie had insisted on ‘making up for lost time,’ taking breaks only for a quick lunch and a shower. 

“Come with me to pick up Harris,” Eddie says as he wraps the bath towel around his waist. Water drips from the ends of his curls down to the dimples on his lower back. “We’re going to Jeff and Viv’s after so he can meet Baby Ettie.”

You raise your eyebrows in amusement, bending over to dry your legs. “I took a sick day today,” you remind him. “I can’t just show up there in your car, like, ‘nothing to see here!’”

“I’ll park far away,” he says with a shrug. “No biggie.” There’s a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. “I mean, I could tell Harris that Ms. Sweetheart was supposed to be with us, but she said no—”

You swat at his chest and he pulls back, feigning pain. “You wouldn’t!”

“Try me.”

That’s how you ended up hunched over in the passenger seat of Eddie’s sedan, hiding from any passersby who could potentially recognize you. It only takes a few minutes before you hear the sound of Harris’s little voice, chewing his dad’s ear off about his day at school.

“...and then me an’ Charlie traded me snacks, an’ no one even sawed us!” He’s cackling like it’s the funniest joke. “He had my pretzels and I had his gummies, and it was so silly!”  

“Gummies, huh?” Eddie clicks his tongue, “well, that explains the sugar rush.” Their voices get louder as they approach the car. “By the way, Har Bear, I have a surprise for you.”

As he says it, Harris opens the back door and hops into the car, eyes widening when he sees you sitting up front. “Ms. Sweetheart!” he exclaims, bouncing into his booster seat with pure exhilaration. “What are you doing in Daddy’s car?”

“I figured I could see Baby Ettie with you guys,” you say as nonchalantly as possible, a stark contrast to the little boy practically vibrating from excitement, “if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, yes, YES!” Harris shouts, his words aimed directly in Eddie’s ear as he tries buckling his son’s seatbelt.

“Jesus H. Christ,” he mutters, wincing as he massages the opening of his ear canal with his forefinger. “Take it down a notch, little man.” He fumbles with the belt until he hears the familiar click. He dons a deep voice to announce, “Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times,” and Harris draws his limbs inwards with a giggle while Eddie closes his door. 

“Daddy? Can we listen to music?”

“Mhm.” Eddie reaches for the radio dial, then stops. “Should we let Ms. Sweetheart choose the tape? Since she’s our special guest?” He shoots you a grin that sends a flip-flopping sensation behind your ribs. 

Harris taps his finger to his chin in contemplation. “Hmm…okay! Can she pick Metallica?”

“Not quite sure that’s how it works…” Eddie scrunches up his face and scratches at his jawline. 

You turn around to face the boy, whose curly hair is now identically frizzy to his father’s. “Actually, Metallica sounds great to me,” you say, adding a thumbs-up for good measure. 

“Metallica it is!” Eddie pops in the cassette, the mechanical wheels whirring for a moment before Fight Fire with Fire blares through the speakers. He rests his palm on the back of your seat as he backs out of the spot, tongue poking from his lips in concentration. 

Harris alternates between headbanging to the music and babbling about school throughout the drive to Jeff and Viv’s. His energy seems endless as he hops out of the car and races to their front door. 

“Har, remember,” Eddie calls out, “we have to be calm and gentle around the baby. Don’t wanna scare her.”

Harris nods as Jeff opens the door. “Mini Munson!” He gives a tired smile, stifling a yawn. “Ready to meet your new cousin?” He chuckles when Harris jumps up and down and squeals. “I’ll take that as a yes. Go ‘head and sit on the couch, kiddo.”

Harris follows Jeff’s instructions, and you and Eddie trail close behind him. Jess and Robin are also there; the latter woman is currently holding Ettie, lightly rocking the newborn in her arms. 

“Do you wanna hold her?” she asks Harris, who looks to you and his dad in a silent plea for permission. 

“Up to you, Har,” Eddie says with an encouraging smile. “We’ll help you, if you want.”

Harris nods, shuffling so his back is pressed up against the sofa. He squirms anxiously, kicking his feet as he waits for you and his dad to join him. 

Eddie sits on his right side, and you take the empty space to his left. “I’ll help you hold her head,” you promise him. “You can hold your arms out like this,” you demonstrate, resting your forearms on your lap with your palms facing the ceiling, and Harris mimics your actions. “There ya go.”

Robin carefully walks over and places Ettie in Harris’s outstretched arms, ensuring that you’re supporting the baby’s head before she fully lets go. For a few moments, Harris just stares at the little girl, seemingly unsure how to react. Finally, he softly murmurs, “she’s so little!”

“Sure is,” Eddie laughs, poking at one of her tiny toes in amazement. “Would you believe that you were even more little when you were a baby?” His grin deepens when Harris’s jaw drops in disbelief. “It’s true! You were the tiniest little thing I’ve ever seen.” As he says it, a lump forms in his throat, and he swallows it before anyone notices the catch in his voice. You don’t need to hear it, though, and you use your free hand to discreetly rub his back in silent reassurance.

Harris purses his lips as he stares at his new cousin, clearly unaffected by the anecdote. “Does she do any tricks?” 

His question has the entire group stifling laughter, and Eddie turns pink with embarrassment as he quickly explains, “she’s not a dog, buddy. And she was only born a few weeks ago, so she pretty much just eats, sleeps, and poops.”

“Ew,” Harris’s nose wrinkles in disgust at the last activity, though you’re willing to bet a large sum of money that he’s made at least one poop-related joke today. “So when can I teach her how to play Legos?”

“Not for a while,” Viv admits with a kind chuckle, “but when she’s ready, I promise that we’ll let her big cousin Harris show her how it’s done.”

Her answer placates him, at least temporarily, and he cautiously brushes his forefinger against Ettie’s scalp, smoothing down her wisps of hair. You take the moment to glance over at Eddie, only to find him looking right at you.

Hi, he mouths, though there’s so much more he wishes to say. When Harris was Ettie’s age, Eddie was exhausted, overwhelmed, constantly on the brink of breaking down. He’d sworn to himself and anyone else who would listen that he’d never go through the newborn stage again, but he’s mesmerized by the sight of you and Harris cuddling a baby. He wants this, he wants this with you, sleepless nights and spit-up stained clothes no longer strong enough deterrents.

Hi, you mouth back, suppressing words that ache to spill from your lips. Your pulse quickens at the way Eddie watches his son, not with scrutiny, but with admiration and awe, as though he can’t believe he’d created such a wonderful little human. Teaching children never translated over to a desire for motherhood, but you can suddenly picture yourself helping Harris hold your baby, a baby that symbolizes the love between you and Eddie.

“They look like a little family.” Robin’s attempted whisper grabs your attention; a brief scan of the room shows that everyone else is looking at her, too. Her cheeks flush a deep red and she mutters, “sorry,” swooping in to scoop Ettie into her arms. 

An awkward silence hangs in the air until Jess clears her throat. “How was work today?” she asks you, and though you don’t have an actual answer to the question, you’re grateful for the subject change.

“I took the day off,” you reply nonchalantly. “Wanted to catch up on rest, y’know…” You trail off, hoping your non-answer suffices.

“What about you, Ed?” Jeff tries.

“Oh, uh,” Eddie stammers, nervously running a hand through his hair, “I also took the day off.”

Jeff’s gaze flits between the two of you until he finally manages an elongated, “…cool.” 

Luckily, Harris is oblivious to the adults’ conversation. “Uncle Jeff, are you coming to my talent show next week?”

“Talent show?” Jeff glances at Eddie with an amused smirk. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘s this parent-kid thing at his school,” Eddie hurriedly explains, trying not to trip over his words. He’s still stuck on what he’s implied by admitting that he’d also called out of work. “I didn’t know how busy you’d be with Ettie—”

Viv smiles. “I think he can sneak out for an hour to see his favorite nephew.”

“Robs and I can help out here if you need,” Jess offers to her sister, “as long as Jeff brings the camcorder so we have video evidence of this performance.”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie shuts the idea down immediately, but his protest is drowned out by the sound of Harris cheering. 

“Daddy and I are gonna—”

Eddie claps a ringed hand over his son’s mouth. “It’s a surprise.” He looks at you for a moment, bashfulness infiltrating his expression with a timid smile and downcast eyes, and you realize that the surprise is for you. 

Harris wriggles out of Eddie’s grasp with a discontented sigh, sliding off the couch and onto thr floor. “I didn’t tell Ms. Sweetheart,” he protests, and Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose as he gathers any remaining patience. 

Ettie puckers up her face and lets out a wail that seems far too big for her teeny body, but it serves as the perfect reason to leave. You hug everyone goodbye and give the cranky baby’s feet a gentle tickle before you head out the door. Harris gallops ahead, giving Eddie the opportunity to guide you with a soft press of his hand to the small of your back. Before he's fully outside, he leans in to Jeff, whispering “I told her,” ending the statement with a grin. 

“My man!” Jeff grabs Eddie’s shoulder and gives it a small shake. “Let me know when to buy my tux for the wedding.”

“Jesus, you sound like Harris.”

Spending time at Hawkins Preschool outside of contracted work hours would normally be a scenario straight out of a nightmare. This afternoon; however, you’re here to see the most adorable little boy and his handsome dad perform some sort of mystery talent, which makes it all worthwhile.

The cafeteria has been transformed into an auditorium of sorts, with neat lines of metal folding chairs replacing the long tables that typically fill the space. An area at the front of the room has been sectioned off for the performances, and the entire place is abuzz with excitement about the adorableness that is about to ensue.

You spot Jeff and Wayne sitting in the third row from the back and you give them a little wave, bounding over to take the empty seat to Jeff’s left. The smile on your lips quickly transforms into a frown when you see him shake his head, placing his palm on the chair.

“I’m under strict orders to make sure you sit in the front row,” he says with a knowing smirk. He shoos you away, and you begrudgingly turn from their familiar faces, but not before catching a twinkle in Wayne’s eyes. 

Soon after you find a seat close to the makeshift stage, Principal Sinclair steps up to the microphone. 

“Welcome, friends and family, to our annual talent show fundraiser!” There’s a polite smattering of applause before she speaks again. “Our students—and their parents—have quite a show for you all. First up is Miss Abigail Carver and her mom, Chrissy, who will be performing a cheer routine!”

You clap as Abby and Chrissy step out, green and yellow pom-poms in hand. Your student recognizes you immediately, running over to give you a quick hug that elicits a resounding aww from the audience members.  She rushes back to her spot as she and her mother cheer on the Hawkins Tigers in unison. 

Next is another student of yours, Joshua Harrington. His dad hoists a Fisher Price basketball hoop and places it on the ground so the two of them can show off their “slam dunks.”

After a few more students from other classes, it’s finally the moment you’ve been waiting for. 

“Please welcome Harris Munson and his dad, Eddie, who will be singing a song!”

No sooner do you call out, “Yay, Harris!” do you hear it:

“Freak.”

It’s low enough that no one else catches it; you probably wouldn’t have, either, if the culprit wasn’t sitting directly behind you. You turn around to see Jason Carver, camcorder by his side, poorly stifling a snicker. 

Your hands clench, balled into fists, so tight that you feel your fingernails digging into your palms. It’s too tempting to smash his camera—no, smash his stupid face—but you inhale and then exhale for three seconds apiece. Today is about Harris and Eddie, and no overgrown bully is going to ruin that. 

Still, you have to bite back a smile at the thought of Jason sporting a black eye, courtesy of the Freak’s girlfriend herself. 

When Harris and Eddie take to the performance space, your anger evaporates and your heart becomes heavy with emotion. Harris is front and center, body slightly turned as he watches his dad get settled on a wooden stool and gives his acoustic guitar a tune. The boy dons a black suit that’s a size too big for him, his hands barely peeking out of the sleeves. He’s got on a tie that has to have been borrowed from an adult; you can’t imagine Eddie or Wayne wearing one, so maybe Jeff loaned it. The best part is the fedora that rests atop his messy mop of curls. 

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart!” he says with a grin so wide it likely hurts his cheeks, letting out a shriek of delight when you wave. “This song is for you!”

Eddie murmurs a soft, “two, three, four,” and strums a melody that immediately has your eyes welling with tears. 

“You make me feel so young,” Harris croons, mouth right up to the mic, “you make me feel so spring has sprung!”

To anyone else, it seems like a silly play on the fact that he is, in fact, young. You know it’s so much more. 

“And every time I see you grin, I’m such a happy individual!” 

He’s singing Frank Sinatra. He’s dressed as Frank Sinatra. And you know it had to be Eddie’s idea, considering Harris’s musical repertoire teeters between Raffi and Metallica. 

He skips a few verses, and when he does, Eddie locks eyes with you and offers a tiny close-mouthed smile. 

“And even when I’m old and gray I’m gonna feel the way I do today ‘Cause you make me feel so young!”

You choke down the sob that threatens to escape as they circle back to the chorus. The memory of Grandma’s final Thanksgiving, consisting of singing along to Fly Me to the Moon and sharing store-brand Oreos, soars around your mind. The way she had so easily slipped back into her old self, if only for a moment. The way Eddie had held you and kissed your scalp, protecting you from a force no one could see but everyone could feel. 

“You make me feel so young You make me feel so young Ooh, you make me feel so young!”

The song ends and you leap to your feet, cheering just as loudly as you did the other night at the Hideout for Corroded Coffin. You swipe at a stray tear and force yourself to look at your boyfriend, so effortlessly beautiful in a black t-shirt and jeans. 

Thank you, you mouth. 

I love you, comes his silent reply. 

You gaze into each other’s eyes for another beat before you feel a thud against your legs. Harris stands right before you, ignoring the way all of the other kids proceeded out the door after their performances.

“Are those happy tears?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern as he notices your stained cheeks. When you nod, still too overcome with emotion to speak aloud, his face splits into a grin. “Good.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug that nearly has you toppling over, and you rest your hand on his upper back to steady yourself.

“Easy, Har Bear,” Eddie’s voice is strong but tender, and your entire body relaxes in his presence. You want to pull him in by his belt loops and kiss him, running your fingers through his curls until you’re both smiling too hard to continue. If only you weren’t at your place of work, if only all eyes weren’t on you, if only–

“Looks like the Freak’s got a crush.”

A smattering of the audience members laugh at this, no one more so than the instigator himself. You whirl around reflexively, eyes narrowing at the smug blonde man behind you. Eddie takes a small step forward, quietly telling Harris to go back with his friends as he zeroes in on his longtime nemesis.

He’s going to hit him, you realize, noting the subtle clench of his jaw and twitch of his flexing bicep. I have to stop him before he does something he regrets.

Eddie’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jason’s collar and pulling him in with a jolt. There’s a soft gasp from the crowd followed by silence as everyone waits for Eddie’s next move. You can hear the scraping of metal chairs on the ground as Wayne and Jeff scramble to mitigate the situation before it can escalate further.

To your surprise–and relief–Eddie doesn’t throw any punches; instead, he grits his teeth and hisses, low enough so only you and Jason can hear:

“Don’t ever talk about her again.”

He lets go with a small shove, and Jason stumbles back just as Principal Sinclair arrives to break it up. While time came to a screeching halt, the whole interaction spanned fewer than ten seconds. 

Wayne and Jeff reach him first, guiding him out of the cafeteria. The older man keeps his eyes on his nephew, but Jeff shoots Jason a steely glare, insinuating that Jason had better heed Eddie’s warning if he wants to live to see his daughter go to kindergarten. You follow behind and attempt to keep your composure.

“I’m so sorry,” Eddie breathes as soon as the four of you are alone. “I shouldn’t have…I just fuckin’ hate that guy.” His eyes dance with anxiety, not sure whether to look at you, his friend, his uncle, or the ground.

You take his hands in yours, imploring him to focus on you as you reach up to brush his curls off of his face. “It’s okay–”

Eddie shakes his head. “I ruined everything. This was supposed to be about Harris, and about making you happy…” He takes a step back, rubbing his eyes with a low, exasperated, “fuck!”

“Baby–”

“I’m gonna get Harris,” Eddie starts to walk away, speaking to himself as though you hadn’t said a word, but he stops in his tracks when Wayne puts his hand on his shoulder.

“Listen to your girl,” he says simply, motioning for Jeff to come fetch Harris with him.

Eddie doesn’t dare protest, trudging back to face you. He’d fucked up royally, and he knew it. What was he thinking, putting his hands on Jason Carver in the middle of a goddamn preschool talent show?

“Eddie,” you take his hand in yours and give it a squeeze, “it’s okay. I’m not mad; I just wish he didn’t get under your skin like that.” You rub your thumb along his forefinger. “He’s not worth it, I promise.”

“I just…” Eddie mumbles, thoughts too scrambled to find the words he needs. He heaves a long sigh. “I shouldn’t have done it here.”

You can’t really argue with that; out of all of the places Eddie could fight Jason, your job wasn’t your favorite option. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You press onto your toes to whisper in his ear. “I almost did the same thing earlier today.”

“Really?”

“Mhm,” you confirm, nudging the toe of your shoe against his scuffed sneaker. “And I have a feeling most people in this town would agree with me.” The notion makes Eddie smile, and you continue. “Let me take you and Ol’ Brown Eyes out for ice cream to celebrate your amazing performance. Please?” You throw a puppy-dog look his way, though he needs little convincing.

Still, a nagging thought tugs at him that he has to resolve before can allow himself to relax. “There might be people there. People we know.” People like Jason Carver and Carol Perkins, he silently adds. “It’s okay if you don’t want to…we can just grab a half-gallon from Bradley’s and bring it home.”

You shake your head, effectively turning down his offer. “I’m taking my boyfriend and his adorable son to Scoops Ahoy, and the three of us are gonna split a fudge sundae,” you say matter-of-factly. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Are you sure you’re okay with people knowing about us? Being branded ‘The Freak’s Girlfriend’? Hearing people gossip about whatever the Hawkins rumor mill has churned out?

The sensation of your lips on his tempers the overworked gear shifts in his brain. When you pull back, you’re smiling at him. 

“Positive.”

--

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

[sorcerous-caress]

Heyyy!! Could I request the companions taking care of a new baby + a toddler while their partner recovers?

Taking care of the kids while you recover

[Fluff, marriage, raising kids, nb!reader]

[Astarion, Wyll, Gale]

I'm not feeling the best rn so I did just three, i hope you enjoy anon.

Astarion

Seeing that this is your second baby together, he feels less out of his element now. He is more confident in his ability to care for this little bundle of joy with pointy ears cradled in his arms.

He almost doesn't recognise his own self these days. When did his sharp edges grow so soft? When did he become so tender, and when did his eyes become so round and happy?

When you proposed to him that day in the underdark, when you presented him with a modest ring that made him go speechless. He has seen many more glamorous ones, much more expensive ones, but somehow, this simple band with the most precious gem completely took his breath away.

That's how he ended here on this cozy couch with a silver haired toddler running around enthusiastically. Astarion calls them over to gently wipe some crumbs from their face, looking at their innocent adoring eyes.

They had your eyes, he couldn't help but squeeze their adorable cheeks and give them a kiss on the forehead like any dotting father would.

Him, a doting parent? That idea would've made him choke with laughter some years ago.

The ring glimers on his finger as he holds the newborn baby closer to his chest, humming a soothing melody in elvish for his second child. The first stared at him from the side with a pout.

His child was so obvious with their emotions that Astarion couldn't help but chuckle, "Jealously isn't a good look darling, come here." With that, he had another kid cuddling up to him and demanding a lullaby too.

Astarion obliged, relieved that his presence seemed enough for his children at the moment while you were recovering. Part of him was anxious about what if they only wanted you? What if they weren't as attached to him as he thought?

He was never happier to be proven wrong in his life.

Wyll

The sun shines brightly through the thin white curtains in the kitchen. Wyll is mixing together a baby formula on the counter, measuring the right amount on the spoon as he scoops away the extra powder from the top.

Adding the powder into the baby bottle, he gently shakes the warm bottle. The sound of light footsteps approach him in a failed attempt of stealth as a toy wooden sword is pressed against the back of his legs.

"Surrender!" A high voice calls from behind him, his very own kid with determination in their eyes as they press the dull edge of the sword more against Wyll's pants.

"Oh noble hero, may I know what crime am i being accused of before I surrender?" Wyll plays along, a smile painting his lips.

"The crime of!!" His child starts with confidence, "of...." trailing into uncertainty as their grip on the sword falters.

Wyll is patient as he lets them have the time to gather their thought. cleaning and wiping the counter down.

"Of not giving me food!"

"Didn't you just eat your breakfast after stealing my breakfast?" Wyll scooped up his child up in his arm, holding him with one hand while carrying the bottle with the other. His kid kicked their feet in the air as they dropped the wooden sword.

"But dad!! That was hours ago, I'm hungry."

"I clearly recall it being minutes ago."

Moving to the living room where his youngest laid peacefully sleeping in their small rocking bed, Wyll let go of his hold just as he sat on the couch.

Climbing into his lap, the most adorable brown puppy eyes looked up at him. "I want pancakes please" stretching on the end of the word, his kid whined.

With a defeated smile, Wyll agreed to it. Knowing you'd scold him for spoiling the kids too much if you were here right now, still he was weak against them. Somehow, his own kids were more persuasive than any devil this warlock has ever encountered before.

Gale

"There you go, all dry and clean" he said as he started to put on the baby bear onesie back on the giggling infant in front of him, their small hands gripping on Gale's beard with surprising strength as he zipped them up.

Yet the discomfort barely mattered to the wizard, he happily let them play with his face as he admired how adorable they looked in the fluffy animal custom. Smiling and giving their belly a soft kiss to make them laugh even louder.

The loud crash from outside the room barely phased him either as he kept coddling the infant, calling them endearing names and cradling them in his arms. "Papa's here, no need to fret."

"MR.DEKARIOS!" Tara's screech followed shortly after, "your presence is required immediately!"

Still too busy entranced by how adorable his child was, Gale took slow steps out of the room, contouring harmless light tricks to impress his youngest.

The sight that met him was one that would've probably given his younger self a heart attack no doubt, the countless torn pages of books thrown around the floor, the spilled ink and the crumbled magical scrolls.

But as the years went by, he found himself mellowing out much more. Very few things phased him by now, especially with how ironic life tended to be. The fates must be snickering right now. to give him a kid with wild magic in their veins, brimming with sorcery from such a young age.

You usually kept them in line, Gale was too guilty of being an enbaler as you've put it. It's not his fault he thought his kid was the coolest person in all the realms.

"Books are for losers!" Ah, there they stood, his own flesh and blood. Amidst the chaos of papers and magic, a potted plant.

A talking potted plant.

"Did your magic surge again?" Gale could only feel amusement as he leaned down to pick up his child, making sure to hold it far away from his other child so they don't nibble on the leaves of their sibling.

It seemed like both his cat and his child prefered to continue their argument. "Why, I have never heard such nonsense before! Mr.Dekarios, would you please get your spawn in line." Tara, his beloved elegant tressym, was flying around him in an attempt to smack the plant with her soft paws.

With a giggling wobbling infant on his right arm and a potted plant polymorphed kid on his left, Gale effortlessly casted the necessary incantations to reverse the polymorph while avoiding Tara's claws.

A poof of sparkling light filled the room as a full toddler replaced the potted plant, Tara blinded by the light, crashed into them and they all stumbled down onto stacks of torn papers.

The three of them buried under the pile, only the fluffy bear onsie wearing emerged unharmed on top.

#♡Gale #♡Astarion #♡Wyll #♡Fluff #♡marriage #♡raising kids #astarion x reader #gale x reader #wyll x reader #fluff #wholesome #raising kids #marriage au #bg3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 x reader

[haechwrites]

sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH

prince!lee donghyuck x baker fem!OC (no name!)

synopsis: prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.

wc: ~17.1k

warnings: pet names used only so i don't have to namedrop lol. no other warnings tho!

A/N: this is my second longest fic i've actually finished hehe i'm really happy with this one and now i wish i had a prince haechan lol

-- some things to note first:

THIS FIC IS WRITTEN IN FIRST PERSON. if you see ♔, that means it's in haechan's pov written in third person!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As a child, life is all about the simple pleasures. It didn’t matter that I’d come home to a dark house carrying the faint snores of my mother. I was still reeling from the sweet taste of mangoes on my tongue, the slight dusting of sugar in my hair, and the lingering soreness from laughing in my cheeks. I’d quickly wash up, give my mom a quick peck on the forehead, and tuck myself in bed. Before I know it, the sun greets me again and I meet my grandma outside as she leads me to the palace. This was my routine and for my young brain, there was nothing ever wrong with it.

My grandma is the head baker at the palace. Since the separation of my parents, I have spent my days with my grandma at work. It was all I knew and I was content with it. Every sunrise, I’d have 30 minutes before I had to meet her outside. Together, we’d walk to the palace’s servant entrance and my grandma would give our favorite guard, Doyun, a warm smile and a promise to slip an extra pastry in his meal for letting me tag along. I’d walk past him with a finger to my lips asking him to be sworn to secrecy. He’d always return it with a wink and a small laugh. It was our little promise, though I’m sure no one would actually mind an extra guest on the grounds – especially a mere 7-year-old. 

Once inside the kitchen, I strap on the apron that the palace’s tailor secretly made specifically for me. Grandma told me that the busiest times in the kitchen were the mornings, so I always sit in the corner to let her start the day. I occupy myself for at least an hour before my friend comes to play with me. His entrance is always the same: a secret knock on the side door and a gleaming smile when I open it for him. 

Today he’s dressed up in a super fancy garment, almost like a uniform. I had never seen him in anything other than his casual button-up and pants, typically covered by an extra adult-sized apron we’d find laying around.

“Donghyuck! What are you wearing?”

“Princess!,” He’d squeal, pulling me into a tight hug. “It’s my special outfit.”

“Is it your birthday?” My nose scrunches in confusion, looking him up and down. Even if it was his birthday, I can’t imagine his servant parents could afford such expensive fabric. 

Donghyuck laughs before yanking a spare apron off its hook and pulling it over his head. 

“Nooo. I have something important to do today. That’s why I’m wearing this,” He explains, looking a little nervous.

“Oh wow. You look like the King. Or like a prince,” I say jokingly, but Donghyuck freezes. His eyes are wide like the time he accidentally ate the last mango tart I was saving.

Then he breaks out into an awkward laugh and smiles wide at me, “I am a prince… because you’re my princess.” He says with utmost confidence, before grabbing my hands. We’re standing the way I position my two play dolls during a pretend wedding ceremony.

I quickly turn the shade of freshly baked cherry pies and I tear my hands out of his hold.

“Donghyuck-ah! How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?” I huff, crossing my arms. 

He snickers, “Hmmm… maybe one hundred more times.”

“One hundred more times?!”

“Yes, if you can even count that high,” he smirks, instantly easing the tension from earlier. He plops down onto my stool and looks up at me. “So what are we playing today? Or should we read? Or does Baker Grandma need help?”

I aimlessly kick the leg of the stool, thinking about what we could do today as I can see him anxiously bounce around in his seat. He looks like he’s running on limited time today. Sometimes Donghyuck disappears on me in the middle of our hangouts or doesn’t show up at all. I just assume his parents need help with their tasks just like how Grandma often calls me to help her bake. He’s never told me where in the palace they work despite the years we’ve been hanging out. 

“What if we help your parents today?” The minute the question leaves my lips, I hear a snort from the kitchen staff and Donghyuck goes into a coughing fit as if the flour seeped into his lungs.

I begin to feel myself turn red again and wondering what was so wrong till I feel a familiar warm hand on my shoulder.

“Ah Donghyuck, you’re here today?” My grandma looks at his attire with a suspicious gaze. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Her hands are on her hips and it feels similar to the times she’s caught me using the oven on my own.

Donghyuck starts shyly giggling while fiddling with the oversized apron my grandma is reaching to remove. I stand there in confusion as he looks like a puppy that was told he wasn’t allowed to play or have a treat. I want to help him but the look on grandma’s face is too scary to fight.

She’s slowly ushering him out the door and I’m holding his apron in my hands, watching him pout.

“Bye Hyuck,” I mutter, sad that our day was cut short before it even began. This was the quickest that one has ended.

“Byeee Princess,” He says with as much despair in his voice. He always has to be a little more dramatic than me. I giggle and wave him goodbye, spirits lifted by his antics. I see a smile grow on his face at the sound of my laugh before my grandma closes the door.

My loneliness returns as I stare at the wooden panels of the side door. 

“Did he have to go?” I ask, slumping back onto the stool he was just on.

My grandma turns to me with a quizzical look. I can’t tell if she’s angry, sad, or disappointed and then she’s crouched down in front of me. Her flour-coated hands are resting on my lap.

“Donghyuck got called by his parents. They’re very important people,” She starts slowly. Grandma has never talked about Donghyuck’s family or personal life before. It was never brought up in the past because I assumed he was just like me. Now that we’re finally beginning to talk about it, the hesitant look on her face makes me not want to know anymore. 

“Guards?,” I ask. To me, Doyun is the most important worker in the castle as he freely lets me in and out. Maybe guards earn enough to adorn such fancy clothes I saw Donghyuck wear.

“No, honey,” She glances back at her staff, and I notice they’ve been watching. They give me a reassuring smile, but there’s uneasiness quivering on their lips.

“Donghyuck… Donghyuck is the Prince.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

They found him. Donghyuck’s personal guards find him where they usually do when he escapes his tasks, and that would be at the palace kitchen. This time, they find him outside the door, rather than inside scarfing down mango tarts. 

Without any hesitation and with no room for him to trick them and run, they grab the tiny prince and bring him to the meeting he was meant to attend with the King. It was meant to be the first glimpse of his life as a future ruler, attending meetings with fellow diplomats and other boring princely things. Donghyuck does not understand why he can’t spend his day playing like a regular 7-year-old with his pretty friend from the kitchen. 

Despite having complained and whined his way out of most duties, Donghyuck had reached the level of maturity to know that this one he couldn’t fight. I mean, the tailor adjusted his royal attire just for this one-hour meeting. After having come to terms with sitting in boredom for an hour, Donghyuck did not expect to be dragged into more as he was about to skip his way over to the kitchen once the diplomats left.

“And where are you off to now, Donghyuck?”

He freezes in his tracks and a shiver ripples down his spine at the sound of her voice. He’s been caught again.

He spins around, plastering the biggest smile possible on his face. “Nowhere, Mother. Just strolling around until my tutoring session.” He hopes she doesn’t recognize this path to the kitchen.

“And is your tutoring session located in the kitchen today?” She asks, words dripping with a patronizing attitude. Nothing Donghyuck isn’t used to.

“Oh! I wanted to see if I could get a quick snack before. My brain needs food, right?” He hides his crossed fingers behind his back, praying she doesn’t call his bluff.

“And you’re not just going there to see that girl, are you?” She takes a step closer and Donghyuck is scared she can see the drip of sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead. How did she know about Princess? He wonders if his guard ratted him out… even after Donghyuck gave him half of his tart. The betrayal, he scoffs. 

“There’s no girl, Mother.” Donghyuck decides it's best to deny it and stare straight at his feet. 

“You are correct, there will never be a girl. Instead, there will be a future queen. A princess for now and you need to begin meeting our potential suitresses,” The queen firmly states, grabbing his shoulders to steer him towards the library. Before he could stop himself, his chest bubbles with heat, and his brain is fogged with confusion. He can’t imagine anyone by his side but her.

“Why can’t she be my princess?”

The words spill out from his royal lips before he could catch them. There’s no missing the instant look of rage and disgust on the Queen’s face when her son’s true desires are revealed. Desires of the heart, but a complete disgrace to his duties as the Prince. Her eyes grow colder and her skin pales till her blush is the brightest hue on her cheeks. 

Donghyuck feels his throat go dry and the crossed fingers behind his back unlock. No luck can help him now.

“No more kitchen visits, Prince Donghyuck.”

The queen’s words are final. His shoulders slump lower and his feet are heavy as he drags them across the cobblestone trailing toward the library. It feels like there was a wall that slammed into the ground behind him, forbidding him from seeing her again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

^ FIFTEEN YEARS LATER ^

The only memory of my childhood that lingered was the heat of the oven. Like I did every day at the age of 7, I continued to bake to keep that fire alive. There were days where the warmth was cooler than normal and my urge to bake waivered. Days like when my grandma stopped showing up outside my house every day a half hour after sunrise. Days like when my mother decided I was too much to raise when I stopped spending my time at the palace. And days like the one when I moved out of the city to live with my dad. 

However, there were also days where the flame was ablaze. Days like when I got my own personal baking set. Days like when I got accepted into a baking school. And days like today, where I return to the city that pushed me out fifteen years ago to open a bakery. Despite the dismal circumstances of the day I left, I always felt the urge to return. It never felt right that I moved in the first place. Confusion still envelops my mind when I think about how my grandma stopped taking me to the palace for unsaid reasons and how my mother was incapable of taking care of me due to it. There had to be something more going on. 

Outside of this mystery of my childhood, my main goal was to return with my own bakery specializing in my soon-to-be infamous mango tarts. I had visited the city for the first time since my move before to scope out bakery locations. But today was the day that I officially move in, to both my home and bakery, and kickstart my business. My first task was to put up a sign displaying the bakery’s name.

“Oh my goodness… so it is true!”

Warmth blooms in my chest; I would recognize that voice anywhere. I flip around and I’m greeted with her same sugary sweet smile. My grandma looks just as she did before but her hair is dusted white like the flour she worked with. But she still smelled like spiced apple pie, my eyes watered in disbelief. 

“Grandma!” I ran into her open arms and I could feel her chuckle. 

“Oh honey, it’s been much too long. Look at you now… a beautiful woman before my eyes,” She’s smiling widely and I can see her eyes take in my features. Fifteen years worth of change and growth. 

“I’m sorry we haven’t been in contact much. I could barely find the time to tell you I was coming back.”

“It’s alright. All that matters is you’re here,” Grandma rubs my arms reassuringly. “And are you here alone? Or have you moved back with a lover?” The childish gleam on her face makes me giggle and I quickly correct her that I’m single and focusing on my baking.

“Ah, I see. In that case, you must have more time than I anticipated. You must come with me to work one of these days. Just like old times. Consider it research for your bakery.” The way she sways with excitement makes it hard for me to turn it down, and I can’t deny the flutter in my heart at the idea of stepping foot onto the palace grounds again. It was where it all started for me. I agreed with a smile.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

After a week of prepping the bakery, I decided to visit my grandma. To be completely honest, outside of the work I had to do, my nerves did play a role in keeping me from going earlier. But now that I’ve decided I’ve run out of excuses, I’m walking to the servant entrance of the palace a little before noon to give my grandmother the morning to solely focus on work. It makes me smile knowing I still remember the schedule of the palace kitchen. 

The streets surrounding the castle are quiet at this hour. I can still remember the hustle and commotion of the staff in the early morning, lining up to get inside to start their days. It was never daunting to be a young girl surrounded by a diverse array of people. It was thrilling and almost comforting and it was much better than staying home alone. 

When I reach the gates, I feel like I’ve traveled back in time because blocking my path is a young guard who looks eerily like Doyun, the guard I knew from before.

“How can I help you, miss?”

“Hi.” I’m inspecting his face. He has the same colored hair, but it’s parted differently. He has the same warm light brown eyes and his face is a little softer than Doyun’s. My mind can’t help but ask, “I’m sorry if this is a strange question but do you know Guard Doyun?”

His stiff demeanor drops like a curtain and the young guard’s eyes light up, “I’m his son, Yunseo! How do you know my father?” Suddenly I don’t see a guard in uniform, but instead a bright, inviting individual in his place.

“No wonder! I’m the granddaughter of the head baker. I used to greet your father every morning when I was a child.” 

“Oh yes! Yes, she told me you were coming. You can go right along in, just make sure she knows to sneak me an extra sweet treat.” He opens the gates for me.

“Ah like father, like son,” I giggle, slightly bowing to him as I enter.

“Do you remember how to get to the kitchen?”

I stare at the familiar worn cobblestone paths and nod, “I think so.”

The walk to the kitchen is shorter than I remember but the smell wafting from the windows is all the same. I reach the side door and I’m about to knock when I notice it’s creaked slightly open. I hear a voice above all the kitchen noise.

“Gran, please sneak something in my food today so I can get sick and stay in bed for the whole week. I do not want to court these women.” I peek my head in further to take a look at the man speaking. I let out a soft gasp when my eyes land on him.

Outside of his stunning beauty, he looks familiar. His tufts of chestnut brown hair are slightly waved as they curl around the nape of his neck. He often shakes his head to get the bangs out of his face, exposing his tan skin. If I look close enough, he has distinguishable moles on the plush curves of his cheeks. His rosy lips are wrapped around a piece of pastry and even when he’s talking with his mouth full, he’s still attractive. My eyes instantly widen when I notice his outfit: the royal attire.

A squeal escapes my mouth and before I could hide, the door is swung open by my grandma.

“You’re here!”

At the announcement of my arrival, the young man is dusting the crumbs off his hands, and looks like he’s about to make a quick escape. 

“Hi Grandma,” I give her a hug, not minding the flour sticking to my sweater. “I was just about to knock.” I let out a small laugh to hide the fact that I was definitely eavesdropping not moments ago.

“Grandma?” I hear the man say behind her. He decided to stay after realizing it wasn’t one of his guards coming to get him, but instead a pretty woman. An oddly, familiar, pretty woman. 

My grandma bites her lip to keep from smiling any bigger and she grabs my arm to present me to the man.

“Oh my. I forgot you guys know each other! It’s Donghyuck, do you remember, honey? You used to play with him every day as I worked.” The glint in her eyes is something more than just happy nostalgia and I give her a look.

“Pri-... Princess?” When the old nickname leaves his lips, I gasp and feel my cheeks bloom pink. The layers of the handsome man in front of me started to peel and I could see the little boy I spent my early life with. Most of my warmest days were spent with him. But I’m also brought back to one of the colder days of my childhood. The day I found out my childhood best friend was the Prince. 

At first, I didn’t understand why my grandma was so fearful of telling me who he really was. I was ecstatic to hear that Donghyuck was royalty. I was fascinated and curious to see what his life was like and how it compared to being the granddaughter of a palace worker. I soon learned that what I wanted to discover was not so glamorous. Because apparently, his life excluded me. I didn’t piece that together until a few years after my move. Why else did Donghyuck stop showing up and why else was I forbade from going to the palace with my grandma? When I came to the realization, I began to resent him and eventually, completely forgot about him.

“Prince Donghyuck,” I bowed, trying not to show any expression. He had his arm slightly raised like he was about to reach for me but his body stiffened at my curtness. My grandma even looks at me with confusion. “It’s… It’s nice to see you again.”

“Oh, there’s no need to be so polite. You guys were friends!” My grandma squeezes my arms, urging me to get closer. I stay in my place.

“He’s the Prince, Grandma,” I whisper through my teeth and I can tell he hears me by the dejected look on his face. I can’t get myself to look him in the eyes.

“It’s quite alright. I actually have to get going. Prin-... Sorry, It was lovely to see you,” The Prince ducks his head and leaves the way I came in. He looks back at my figure once more, thoughts churning, before he disappears.

My feet remain still and I’m staring at the place he stood. Staring at the pastry he bit into. He’s real and he’s back. And the door he walked through was the same one he used to leave me 15 years ago. The alarms rang in my brain and I quickly shook my head, grabbing a bowl and mixing whatever contents are in it. The faster I stirred, the more I begged my mind to stop thinking about Donghyuck.

“You’re overwhipping the cream.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

On every page he turned to, the words blurred and all Donghyuck could see was her. She was more beautiful than he remembered. She’s much taller now, and he naturally smiles remembering when she used to argue that he was only taller than her by a centimeter. Her hair was also longer and not bound in her classic two braids. Though he didn’t get to see her smile, he was sure that it’s brighter than before. After all, everything about her seemed to have grown more beautiful than before. Donghyuck wonders if he should be calling her “Queen” now with how wonderfully she’s aged. 

A delicate tap on his shoulder forces Donghyuck out of his lovestruck haze. “Prince Donghyuck, are you enjoying your book?”

He remembers that he’s in the library with one of his potential suitresses. He turns to her and almost wants to laugh. For the years that his childhood friend has been gone, it was the memory of her that invaded his mind whenever he was forced to go on these dates. But now that Donghyuck has seen her again in the flesh, he realizes how doomed he is and how these other princesses definitely don’t stand a chance.

During the fifteen years apart, Donghyuck’s gloom exacerbated the Queen’s determination to find him a future queen. Out of all his regular royal responsibilities, his courtships took the most time. He excels in all areas of his duties, but the one he can’t manage to succeed in is getting a wife. From playdates to formal dates, Donghyuck aged and remained single. And both he and the head baker knew why. 

Despite the Queen’s warnings to never enter the kitchen, Donghyuck found himself there every week whether it was to steal extra mango tarts or ask about the baker’s granddaughter. It was usually after failed dates when he’d trudge into the kitchen, completely drained of energy, and beg the baker to talk to him about his first love. Questions about where she is, how she’s doing, and whether she thinks of him spill from his mouth, and the baker would entertain him every time. Even if he only knew and could only remember the child version of her, Donghyuck still managed to compare her to every suitress he met. None of them stood a chance against his princess. And though with time he could recognize how silly this infatuation had gotten, he grew fatigued of courtship and this was the easiest way to go about it. The grandmother was wary of this long overrun connection as well, but at the same time commended him for his commitment to her granddaughter. She also didn’t have the heart to tell him to move on.

And now Donghyuck’s here, on another date and he actually has an image, a real person, to be thinking of. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t think this is going to work out.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“So you are hiding from me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ,” I drop the bowl of frosting at my feet and scramble to pick it up. A pair of far too expensive shoes enter my vision. I shoot up and my heart races, knowing exactly who it is.

“My prince,” I bow, meeting the ground once more. I stand upright and give him a passing smile.

“I like hearing you say that,” The Prince smirks. He swiftly scoops a finger of frosting before popping it in his mouth.

“Formalities,” I respond and I move the bowl out of his reach.

He chuckles and he starts to fiddle with an apron left on the counter.

“So you’ve been visiting at nighttime. Are you actually avoiding me?” He looks at me like he’s challenging me to say no. 

Yes. “No, I just prefer the kitchen at night.” I clutch the frosting bowl tighter and focus my attention on what’s salvageable.

“You mean my kitchen… which you’ve been sneaking into with the help of my guard.” I can feel that he’s moved closer and I wince.

“Yes… I’m sorry. My grandma said it’d be okay and my kitchen at the bakery isn’t finished being built. If you’d like me to stop coming, I can.” I start to untie my apron and his hand catches my wrist.

“No,” He blurts out. “There’s no need. Feel free to use the kitchen.” The Prince raises his hands in the air as if to give me permission. I politely nod and go back to fixing my frosting, ignoring the tingling I feel on my wrist. 

He doesn’t make a move to leave. Instead, he puts on the apron from the counter and leans in to watch.

“Um, what are you doing?” The Prince is tapping the table and humming as he stares at me.

“Hanging out,” He says matter-of-factly. 

“I see,” And that’s all that I can say because who am I to kick the Prince out of his own kitchen? So I just mix and continue doing my thing.

“Just like the old days. You do remember, right?” I make the mistake of looking up and meeting his eyes. He’s looking at me like his question meant more than just a test of my memory.

“Vaguely… It was a long, long time ago.” A time I don’t wish to relive.

There’s a short pause before The Prince replies.

“Well, I remember. I think I’ll always remember. You were my best friend… And those were probably the best days of my life.” He doesn’t look at me when he says this. In fact, he looks nervous to be admitting it in the first place. 

All I can do is nod, not knowing what to say to his confession. Especially when the feeling I get when I look back on those times is not as positive.

“Anyway… I’m planning on recreating those times.” Without thinking, I meet his eyes and he’s smiling hopefully. “So don’t try to hide from me next time. I’ll be here whenever you are. Think of it as your payment for using the kitchen.” 

The uneasiness and warmth in my stomach are hard to decipher. The thought of spending more time with him is thrilling and terrifying at the same time. I try to ease my nerves by mixing even harder and he notices before laughing. 

With my unspoken agreement, we spend the rest of the night in silence, just in each other’s presence. Every now and then he steals a bite of my makings and tries to lighten the air with a poorly made joke. And I don’t hold my laughter back.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“And then, once the frosting is on, you can add the strawberries.” I demonstrate by putting the nicely sliced strawberries on in a thin layer. 

“When are you going to teach me how to make the mango tart?” The Prince pouts and bites the strawberries instead of putting them on the cake. I scowl and move the bowl away from him. 

“When are you going to stop eating my ingredients?”

He smirks and taps the counter, “When are you going to stop using my kitchen?” He tilts his head to the side to goad me.

I roll my lips into my mouth and stuff another strawberry in his face when he laughs. 

“Eat up,” I say sickeningly sweet.

Completely out of my control, my hangouts with Prince Donghyuck have returned. However, this time, I know he’s the prince and instead of every day in the morning, it’s 2 to 3 times a week at night. My excuse is that my kitchen in the bakery isn’t done being built, but to be completely honest, I could have it done by the end of the week. Maybe it’s because I enjoy my time with the Prince or maybe it’s because I actually do want the extra amenities I asked to be installed last minute… who knows? The end conclusion is that I find myself in the palace’s kitchen more often than I intended, and I find myself enjoying the Prince’s company more than I intended.

“Okay, your highness. Do you think you can stack these layers evenly?” 

He gives me a playful salute, mouth full of cream, as he hops off the kitchen counter. He stands by my side and takes the cake from my hands.

“You know… as much as I like hearing you call me ‘your highness,’ why don’t you ever call me by my name anymore?” 

“Because now I know you’re the Prince.” And I don’t know how it feels to have your name roll off my tongue as it did before, I think to myself.

The Prince lets out a low whistle. “Do you see me differently?” He trains his eyes to the level of the cake to get it precisely right. I watch him from above.

“It’s been fifteen years… so yes, I do see you differently.” I move to mix more frosting to coat the cake with.

“Okay,” He nods, thinking about my response. “So me being the Prince isn’t part of it?” He glances at me quickly with what I can assume is worry before he goes to add another layer of cake.

“Mmm… It is. Not a big part, but definitely a part. I think it’s mainly because you’ve grown up, We’ve both grown up. Maybe me more than you,” I tease. He sticks his tongue out at me and I make a face back. “Example number one.”

He finishes putting on the last layer and stands up straight to admire his work.

“What makes me different than before?” He takes the frosting bowl from my hands and begins icing the cake like I’ve taught him a couple of days ago. I take this as a break and I lift myself up to sit on the counter, dangling my feet.

“You’re taller than me, for one,” he gasps in fake shock and I hit him on the shoulder. 

“You’re dressed nicer.”

“That’s not a compliment for me, that’s a compliment for my stylist,” He corrects me.

“True, okay. You’re smarter than before, I can see you’re not skipping your tutoring sessions. And… you’re not as cute.”

At that, he perks up, frosting is long forgotten. “What do you mean I’m not as cute?” And with the face he’s making, I almost take back my words.

“Well, your highness, you were a boy before. Of course, you’re not cute now. You’re a man.” I roll my eyes as if that were the most obvious thing.

“If I’m not cute, then what am I?” He squints at me and I can tell I’ve fallen into a trap.

“You’re… You’re handsome. Now,” I mutter out. I quickly clear my throat and point to a bald spot on the cake. “Hey, you missed a spot.”

Without even looking at him, I know he’s smiling. “You think I’m handsome.”

“Alright,” I drag out the word. “You’re the Prince. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome so you can woo and marry a pretty princess?”

“Not exactly. Being ridiculously handsome isn’t a royal requirement.”

I let out a scoff, “When did I say ‘ridiculously handsome’?”

“You didn’t have to, I see it on your face.” He taps my cheek and I suddenly notice how close our faces have gotten. Before I know it, my face is blooming pink again and I can feel the warmth shoot from my head to the rest of my body. I launch myself back and adjust my apron. And he stares at me like he’s won.

“Okay, your turn. What’s different about me?” I look around the kitchen to get my heart to settle down. What is happening?

The Prince doesn’t hesitate. “Well, you’re just as beautiful as you were before. Maybe even more.”

I gasp at his words and look him in the eyes. There’s no hint of his typical teasing attitude; he looks completely genuine. My mind goes blank and my ability to respond is rendered useless. He seems to notice that so he brushes off his comment quickly, thinking he’s overstepped.

“Anyways, since we’ve discovered that the only thing that makes me different from before is that I’m exceptionally more handsome-”

“Didn’t say that.”

“-Then why don’t you just call me ‘Donghyuck.’ Like you did before.”

Maybe it’s because he called me beautiful. Maybe it’s because I like the idea of exclusively calling him ‘Donghyuck.’ Or maybe I’m excited to eat the cake we just made, but my heart is fluttering quicker than it ever has.

“Okay. Donghyuck.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“FIRE! DONGHYUCK! FIRE, FIRE!”

“OH SHIT!”

Watching the medium sized fire bursting from the top of the pot, I run to the fire extinguisher. I’m scrambling to grab it, swift to squeeze the white dust all over the burning stove, despite the dough covering my hands. I hear Donghyuck’s screams in the back and he’s grabbing my shoulders to hide. Once I see the last flame get coated, I drop the extinguisher on the ground, exhausted.

I feel his hands digging into my shoulder blades and I grab him by the jacket, turning him to face me. Knowing how to cover his ass, he smiles in shame, rubbing my arm.

“I swear I was watching the stove,” He whips out his baby voice and try my best not to smack the side of his head. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince. He’s the Prince, I repeat to myself. 

“Your looks distracted me.” I slap him anyways.

He groans in pain, even though I could’ve slapped harder and I cross my arms to look as threatening as possible. 

“You burnt the caramel,” I whine, staring at the black tar in my brand new pot. “And my pot!”

He immediately attacks me with a hug, shaking me around, mumbling apologies. “I’ll buy you a new one, I promise! I’ll buy you three! Four? Seven!”

“Make it eight,” I huff, tearing his arms off me, only to weirdly miss them.

He gasps, hands against his head in shock. “You definitely dressed prettier today just so I could set your pot on fire and buy you twenty more… You’re evil,” He looks at me like I’ve masterminded the biggest robbery of the century. 

I narrow my eyes at him, lifting my hand to smack him again. “And you’re on timeout. No more baking today.” I start putting away the dishes I had ready.

“Hey! Who’s older here?” Donghyuck begins helping me sort the supplies into the pantry.

“I’m pretty sure I am,” I say, trying to remember if we told each other our birthdays back then.

“When were you born?”

“May.”

“Shit,” He mutters. He tosses the burnt pot into the trashcan, wincing at the char. “Okay, let’s keep the ball rolling. What’s your favorite color?”

I laugh, “Really? Also should I save this dough for tomorrow when we try again?” I hold it up to show him and inspects it.

“Yeah, why not? Just wear a trashbag or something tomorrow.” I kick him in the foot and he chuckles. “But yes, really. What’s your favorite color? I like red.”

“Purple,” I play along while saran wrapping the dough. “Favorite food?”

“Kimchi jjigae,” he spits out, with no hesitation. I nod along, remembering all the times he’s requested it as a midnight snack while we bake. “What do you like to do besides baking?”

“I like to go on walks. When I moved out of the city and with my dad, we lived near the beach. It was nice to just walk on the shore only five minutes away from me. I miss it sometimes. I should probably visit soon.” I tap the bowl mindlessly, trying to figure out my schedule.

“You should take me,” Donghyuck says. He’s right next to me now. “I always wondered where you went after I stopped seeing you. I assumed you were still in the city, until your grandma told me you moved-moved.”

“Ohh, no, yeah. I moved. It was hard leaving everything I knew, but at the same time, I learned so much when I was there with my dad. Come with me next time, and we can hangout on the beach. Nothing should be too flammable there.” I tease, bumping his hip with mine. He laughs with me, but I can tell his mind is somewhere else. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks almost guilty.

“You know, when I found out you were the Prince, I wrote down a list of questions. I was so excited to see what your life is like.” 

This grabbed his attention and my heart eased seeing his eyes light up a little more. The kitchen was relatively clean now, so I decided to prop myself up on the counter. Donghyuck always gets mad at the sudden height difference, but I can tell he loves it when he naturally wedges himself between my thighs like he does right now.

“Yeah? Do you remember any?” His hands were pinned on either side of my hips, forearms pressed against my outer thighs. It’s comfortable. I’m not sure when we got so comfortable. “This is kind of like ‘Princess and The Pauper.’”

I snort trying to remember my list. “I think I wanted to know how many crowns you had.”

“Classic question. I’m pretty sure I have three. My head’s kinda small, so it actually takes awhile for them to make it.”

I hum, investigating his head. “I can tell.”

“Mean.” He lightly pinches my thigh and I stop staring at his skull.

“I also wanted to know if you had any royal pets.”

“A cute, small, white dog. Yep.” He nods, like he’s impressed with himself for having such a basic dog and I have to laugh. 

“Any cool cars?”

“Tons,” He brags. “Okay, what does ‘Adult You’ want to know?”

There’s always been a question I wanted to ask him since I started hanging out with him again. It nagged in the back of my mind as I watched him, always happy, always cheering everyone on. Despite his bright facial expressions and body language, I could tell it was tiring, it must be. I never imagined the royal life to be hard, or as hard as my own, until I met him again.

I look at his face, checking for any signs that I shouldn’t be asking him. But he looks at me with such softness and openness, that I don’t hesitate to ask.

“Are you happy? Like… do you like being the Prince?”

His eyes widened at my question and he looks down at my lap to think. He takes longer than I expect, and I assume no one has ever bothered to ask. His silence is telling.

“Hey…,” I reach for his face to lift his chin up. “It’s okay to say you’re not. You don’t have to be all the time.”

He flinches like this was a concept he couldn’t accept for himself. I grab his face a little tighter so he really hears me.

“As long as you’re at least looking for your happiness, that’s all that matters,” I stroke his cheek with my thumb. “You deserve all the happiness, Hyuck.”

I can see his mind slowly wrapping around my words as something in his face shifts. He looks hesitant for a different reason.

“And what if I find my happiness in you?” I gasp, instinctively letting go of his face slightly. He’s fast to bring his hand up to keep mine there. His fingers slot between my gaps. He looks desperate to keep me here.

Knowing my words hold immense weight, I still don’t stop myself from saying, “Then I’ll be that for you, in whatever way I can.”

Despite me being vague, Donghyuck takes all that he can. His face blooms into a smile and I return it, knowing it was cause of me. He holds my hand this time and brings it down to my lap, sighing happily.

“Thank you.”

And for a split second, I’m scared for what I’ve promised. After all, he’s the prince and I’m the pauper.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

Donghyuck is the happiest he has ever been. Unlike how it was when he was a kid, he’s attending his classes, his meetings, and even having lunches with the princesses the Queen sends over. However, he can’t promise that these dates are leading up to a potential marriage. He’s doing just enough so that his mother doesn’t get suspicious. Best of all, for most nights, he gets to sneak into the kitchen and talk, bake, and laugh for hours.

The secret hangouts are going amazingly. He can tell she’s warming up to him as she did back then or maybe it’s just the fire from the oven heating up the place. Last week, the kitchen at her new bakery finally finished being built and he knows this because he hired his staff to make sure the job was done well without telling her. That day he expected her to come in and tell him that she had to stop seeing him, but she still showed up like clockwork – two to three times a week. 

Next week, her bakery is set to have its grand opening and Donghyuck hopes this isn’t what actually stops her from coming to see him. He’s even practiced his baking skills on his own and eaten less of the fruit while they’re together in hopes it doesn’t make her want to leave again. And so for the following week, Donghyuck is treading carefully.

“Do you need help with that, Princess?”

“Should I preheat the oven for you?”

“Here, let me tie your apron.”

“I’ll carry that for you.”

All of these mini acts of chivalry are met with a suspicious gaze and a light dusting of red on her cheeks. Donghyuck feels a sense of achievement whenever she accepts his help. And this all leads up to the night before her grand opening.

Donghyuck is lighting the last candle when the sound of keys unlocking the side kitchen door is heard. He quickly blows out the match before scurrying behind the table to greet her with a “Surprise!”

“Donghyuck! Don’t do that! God, I thought I was caught for sneaking in.”

He rolls his eyes at her lackluster reaction and reorients himself. 

“I said… Surprise!” He dramatically waves his arms around to show all the work he put into decorating the kitchen. She finally notices her surroundings and her eyes light up. Donghyuck can feel his heart soften, compared to how it was racing earlier trying to set all of this up without his staff.

“What… what is all of this?” Her hands are covering her mouth in disbelief. There are streamers and fairy lights gracing the walls and candles are littered all around the room. Donghyuck is standing in the center with a single cupcake in his hands.

“Congrats. I heard from the grapevine that your bakery opens tomorrow.” She laughs at his theatrics and sets her bag down to look at the cupcake he’s made. In messy red font, the top of the treat reads the name of her bakery. She almost wants to tear up.

“Only one? Are we sharing?” She takes the cupcake from his hands and he tries not to think too hard about her fingers touching his.

“Well, I made that myself, and I personally don’t trust that I didn’t mess up the recipe in some way. So if anyone’s getting food poisoning tonight, it’d be you.” He taps her nose. “Eat up!”

At that, her jaw drops and she keeps the cupcake at a distance as if it’s some nuclear substance.

“Do you secretly want me dead?” She laughs.

“Hey, when it comes down to a royal and a baker. The baker’s going.” Donghyuck mimics his throat being slit and bites his lip to stop himself from smiling too hard. He loves to mess with her.

“You are the worst. Way to look out for your people, your highness.” She begins to unwrap the cupcake, taking a sniff out of precaution.

“‘Your Highness’? Aw, Princess, don’t be like that.” He moves closer to her and she shifts back, tutting.

“Nope. As a baker under your kingdom, I will gladly sacrifice myself by eating this cupcake. Alone.” She dramatically curtsies before going in for a hesitant bite.

Donghyuck swiftly beats her to it and takes a large bite out of the other end as her lips touch the cupcake. Her eyes widen in shock and he sends her a wink before brushing the crumbs off his mouth.

“Now you can’t tell me I don’t care about my people,” He says while chewing the weird texture of his creation. Donghyuck smirks at the deer-in-headlights reaction she has on her face. 

She gulps, shaking her head so that her hair hides her blush. She sets the cupcake down, not wanting a reminder of how close his face just was.

“Well, it’s edible,” She jokes. Donghyuck’s tongue prods the inside of his mouth as he takes in what was supposedly a compliment.

“Says the one who took the smallest bite known to man,” He accuses, pointing at the cupcake.

“How was I supposed to take a bigger one when you practically shoved your face into it and devoured half?” Once again, she’s reminded of what just transpired and feels her cheeks growing warm.

“Ooo, did I make you flustered? Scared your lips were about to touch mine?” Donghyuck takes a step closer and brushes a nonexistent crumb off her lip with his thumb. He hopes she doesn’t feel his heart pounding like fireworks.

Like she can sense his fake confidence, she grabs his wrist. “Is that what you were thinking about when you took a bite? Kissing me?” She tilts her head to the side and his whole body buzzes.

Before he could crumble even further, he tears his hand out of hers. “Please. Like I’d let anyone touch these royal lips.” He turns around to calm himself down and pretends to busy himself with something on the fridge.

He hears her laugh behind him. “I bet they’re not as sweet as a baker’s.”

He turns around and narrows his eyes at her. “How did this grand opening celebration turn into you messing with me?” Accepting defeat, he resorts to fake anger and his signature pout.

“You started it,” She playfully rolled her eyes. “Anyways…”

With the softest smile, she says, “Thank you, Hyuck. I really appreciate you.”

He returns it, “Always.”

The rest of the night is filled with laughter and playful bickering as the two avoid finishing the mysteriously textured cupcake. Donghyuck makes multiple attempts to pit the blame on her as the teacher, and the soon-to-be bakery owner fails to leave and sleep early at the expense of the Prince’s whines. To be honest, the lack of sleep was worth it if she got to spend more time with him.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Now that the bakery is well past its grand opening and flourishing greatly, I’ve gotten my days back. My employees are well-trained and seasoned and I feel comfortable taking days off when I need to. Oddly, my new opened-up schedule was somehow sensed by Donghyuck and I was invited to the palace during the daytime for the first time ever. I was nervous at first to be sneaking in in broad daylight, but he assured me that if I followed the steps he gave me exactly, I’d be fine – not that reassuring. 

As written in his note, I greeted Yunseo, the guard, as usual, and he gave me weird looks, going back and forth between the sun and my face.

“You know the sun is out, right?” He asked, still looking at me funny.

I gave him the most incredulous look. “You’re joking? It’s not nighttime?” I made an effort to crazily look around and he sighed.

“Alright, alright, I get it,” He shook his head. “What are you doing here?”

“Thought I’d switch things up,” I shrugged, not wanting to reveal who I was meeting.

Yunseo nodded, “Fair… okay, be careful, okay? The palace feels a little frantic today.” With that, he opened the gates for me and I gave him a smile.

“You’re the best. Make sure to stop by sometime this week, I have pastries for you.” I waved goodbye as he promised to come. 

Following Donghyuck’s poorly drawn-out map, I realized our meeting point isn’t the kitchen and that he’s taking me on an obscure path that the Queen and King definitely are not aware exists. As I walk through centuries-old, dimly lit stone walls, I think about how many times Donghyuck has used these secret passageways and if little Donghyuck used these when he snuck out to see me, 15 years ago. I can imagine 7-year-old Donghyuck discovering these routes within the castle’s walls.

“Stop right there!” A voice echoes through the abandoned hallway.

My heart spazzes and as loud as my brain is yelling at me to run, my feet don’t budge. I curse under my breath and crumple Donghyuck’s map in my hands, remembering to kill him unless I die right here. And if I do happen to die here, then I have to make sure I return as a ghost, haunting that man for life. I turn around slowly, eyes half closed, to see who’s behind me, but there’s no one there. There’s no one in the passageway at all. I whip around a few more times to confirm and I notice a crack in the wall to my right. It’s a peephole overlooking the actual palace hallways.

Out of curiosity, I look through and I see the Queen, face as red as the beautiful gown she adorns.

“Prince Lee Donghyuck,” his name is spat out like bile. “You will follow my orders.”

Coming into view, I see Donghyuck. He and the Queen are in the middle of a heated argument. His head is hung low and I can see him playing with his sleeves like he does when he gets anxious. I wish to reach for him, but then I remember the wall separating us.

“Your majesty, I… I can’t. I don’t want to,” He hiccups, and if I can’t see the tears on his face, I can hear them. “I never did.”

The space in my chest feels as tight and narrow as the walkway I’m in and I want to look away, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You are the Prince and you are expected to marry a Princess. How dare you fool me for all these years?” As the Queen, she still carries her natural elegance, but her words burn like acid. She’s speaking to him at a normal volume, but her tone pierces your ears. 

“I-I didn’t mean to fool you. I tried my best, but I don’t love them. I don’t love the suitresses you send. And I need you to understand that I never will.” Donghyuck finally looks up and I can see the desperation in his eyes from where I stand. 

“Love?,” The Queen laughs bitterly. “I don’t need you to love them. You just need to marry one. As the Prince, what makes you think you have the privilege of being in love? Not when you have a country to rule.” There’s less anger in her words and more disappointment. 

Donghyuck winces, looking like he’s fighting back what he wants to say. His bottom lip is trembling and the grip he has on his sleeves is tight. His whole body practically shakes. Eventually, he lets go.

“If I’m not meant to love someone, then explain to me why I already do. Explain to me why I love her? Explain to me why I can’t have her?!” 

Tears are rolling down his cheeks like heavy rainfall. “I never asked for this!” He screams, and I wonder to which he’s referring to. 

My body is sweaty like I ran a mile and I feel like my breathing can be heard through the wall. He never mentions my name, but I know, I can feel, that he’s talking about me. My whole body is buzzing and I don’t know whether to feel ecstatic or sad. Despite my confusion, one feeling is clear: fear. Before I can hear what the Queen has to say, I run. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

♔

“Oh God. Sorry, I was supposed to get here before you. I was supposed to be part of the surprise,” He smiles meekly, praying the puffiness from crying doesn’t make him look strange. He accidentally sniffles and hopes she blames it on the flowers and his chronic allergies.

She’s sitting in the garden chair next to the tea table Donghyuck had set up an hour ago. He scoped out a secluded spot in the royal garden and slowly put everything together. He moves to sit down across from her and she’s staring intently at the cup in front of her. 

“I asked Gran what your favorite tea is and brewed some for us. I know I don’t have your baking skills, but if we get hungry, we can sneak back to the kitchen,” he playfully winks, trying to hide the fact that he was in the worst state five minutes ago. Although he can’t bake, he can definitely make a good batch of tea. He hopes it hasn’t gone cold. 

He waits for a response, but she’s still frozen, chewing the inside of her cheek. Maybe he’s still on edge from his argument with the Queen, but she doesn’t look happy. This is definitely not the reaction he was expecting.

“Do you wanna try the tea? I bet it’ll amaze you so much, you’ll beg me for the recipe,” he teases. The teapot hovers over her cup, but she makes no move to accept it.

“Okay, no tea. That’s fine,” Donghyuck chooses to laugh it off. “Do you wanna walk around? Most of the garden is secluded so we don’t have to worry about someone catching us.”

“Would that be so bad?” The first words she whispers strike him with confusion. Her voice is dry like she just strained it.

“Huh?” He tilts his head, scooting his chair in closer to hear her.

“Would that be so bad?” She says, unable to bate her anger. “Being caught with me? Would his royal highness hate being found walking with me?”

“Hey,” Donghyuck grabs her hand from her lap, interlocking his fingers. “What’s going on?” She tears her hand out from his hold like it stung and he feels like he’s making mistake after mistake.

“I-I’m sorry, is this too much? I wanted to do something nice for our first date outside of the kitchen. Was this a mistake?” He starts to stack the plates, quickly discarding his work. “I usually don’t plan these myself, so I’m sorry if this is bad. I-”

Donghyuck sees her wince in his peripheral and feels her hand on his wrist as he’s about to haphazardly dump the tea in the bushes. Her hands are cold today.

“Date?” The word leaves her mouth as if it made her sick.

The alarms go off in Donghyuck’s mind. “Date? Did I say date? Sorry, I actually mean-”

“Donghyuck,” she cuts him off. He can see her harshly swallow. “Why are you doing this?”

He blinks. “I… I wanted to do something nice for us. It doesn’t have to be romantic if you don’t want it to be. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Donghyuck can feel himself beginning to ramble.

“No. Why have you been hanging out with me? If it’s because you feel guilty about ditching me all those years ago, forget about it. I don’t care anymore.” She looks at him with so much intensity, not only trying to convince him, but convince herself that none of this matters.

“Princess, please. No, it’s not out of pity. You know that.” He shakes his head almost violently, begging her to believe his honest intentions. He was shocked he had to convince her in the first place, always assuming she knew his heart better than him.

Completely ignoring him, she continues, “And why aren’t you married yet?”

“W-what?” Similar to whiplash, Donghyuck feels like his brain has just been jostled. Are his ears tricking him and forcing him to relive the traumatic conversation he just had with his mother? Why is this topic being brought up?

“You’re the Prince,” she says like it’s an unwavering fact. “You’re meeting with princesses weekly. You’re meant to rule side by side as King and Queen. Why… why aren’t you married yet?” She asks and her eyes are ice cold like her hands. 

She too closely resembles the older woman who was just yelling at him moments ago. The casing around his heart begins to harden and the feeling he gets from the girl in front of him is now anger. The same bitter taste returns in his mouth.

“Are you serious?” He looks at her and the Donghyuck she knows has washed away. Betrayal, rage, and sorrow are painted across his face. It was like she was looking through the peephole again.

“Don’t ask stupid questions you know the answers to,” he mutters, words barely making it past his tight lips. He’s breathing much harder than before.

“Answer me. Why. Aren’t. You. Married.” Her hands are gripping the edge of her knees to stop them from shaking. 

Donghyuck stares at her for a long time, eyes flittering over every facial feature, confirming that she actually wants to hear the answer. Her face is firm and her question is set. He takes a deep, pained breath and leans back slightly.

“It’s because I love you.” Not like the confession he imagined in his head, Donghyuck reveals his long-term feelings like this was their end and not their new beginning. The period at the end of a sentence. The last page of a hardcover book. The last second on a timer.

She simply nods, stiff in the neck. She excuses herself before standing up, bowing, and walking away.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“That’ll be $6.06. Would you like your receipt?”

The cash register dings with another purchase and I slump back in my chair as the customer leaves. It was a slow and agonizing shift with only two more hours till closing. It’s also been a slow and agonizing two weeks. 

I’m haunted by what went down at the royal garden almost every hour of the day. At first, I was using every chance I could get to skip work and wallow at home. But suddenly the plants in my room reminded me of him and the teacups in my cabinets smelled like the tea he prepared for us. So for the second week, I decided to dedicate myself to work. I’ve been coming in every single day and overworking myself to the point where my employees don’t know what to do but stand around. I debate whether or not to let them leave early when a familiar head of brown hair walks in. My heart picks up its pace and it’s like the teacups all over again.

“Donghyu- oh. Hi, welcome!” I smile wide, trying to hide the previous disappointment drawn on my face. The customer gives me an awkward smile back and begins browsing the pastry racks as I mentally slap myself.

I slump down to the floor behind the counter and silently groan in my hands. Why does every male brunette customer these past two weeks remind me of him? And why are there so many of them? Like every other time I’ve confused a customer with Donghyuck, the guilt begins to creep back into my system and I get flashbacks of our last conversation. 

“Why aren’t you married?,” I mock my own voice. “Are you stupid?” I repeatedly hit my palms against my head when I hear a ding from the counter bell. I quickly shoot up and brush the bangs out of my face, hoping the customer thinks I’m at least slightly normal.

“Hi, how can I hel- Grandma!” On instinct, I glance behind her, foolishly hoping he’s hiding behind her tiny frame, and my shoulders slump when I’m met with no one. So now I’m really imagining him.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, composing myself.

“Just checking in on you. I notice you haven’t been coming to the kitchen because when I come in in the mornings, my counter is actually clean,” she jokes. I smile sheepishly and nervously adjust the apron string around my neck. 

“Sorry, it’s usually Donghyuck’s fault,” I quickly clear my throat, answering a little too fast. “The Prince, I mean.”

Grandma’s eyebrows shoot up at the mention of his name and she looks down at her feet, suddenly fidgety. I notice her change in demeanor instantly. 

“Speaking of him…”

“We don’t need to,” I cut her off. “Speak about him, I mean.” I wince at how suspicious my words sound.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. I’m just curious… if anything happened between you two.” She whispers the last part, looking back at the customer to make sure he can’t hear. She clears her throat and steps behind the counter with me, naturally rearranging the bread in the display case. She busies herself while encouraging me to speak.

I gnaw on my lip, tapping the counter, debating if I should finally talk it out with someone. I’ve only been talking to my employees about bread starters and yeast.

“We fought.” I admit.

“About?” Grandma loads the case with more bread. I start passing them to her one by one. 

“He told me… he told me he loved me.” I press my lips together and I hear her head hit the top of the display case and the bread hit the floor. “Grandma! Are you okay?”

I crouch down, grabbing the top of her head to inspect, and she’s giving me the most incredulous look.

“He told you he loved you?!” She squealed at an embarrassingly non-discrete volume, making the customer drop the pastry in his hands. He’s looking around, frazzled, and I can see him debate whether or not he should pick it back up.

“Don’t worry about it! I’ll clean it up!” I screamed from behind the counter. 

“Grandma, keep it down,” I curse through my teeth.

She’s rubbing her head and shaking it in either pain or confusion.

“I know, I know. A Prince saying he’s in love with the baker’s granddaughter is farfetched and unrealistic. I get it.” It’s what has been circling through my brain every day.

“That’s not what I’m confused about, dear.” She looks like she’s debating what to say next. “Did you not hear?”

“Hear what?” At the end of my question, and like a universal sign, the door jingles and the mailman is rushing in, hair swept back by the wind. 

“Sorry! I forgot to drop this off this morning. It’s urgent mail.” He salutes and is out the door as quickly as he enters. 

On the counter is a letter with the royal stamp. My stomach feels queasy assuming this is the first contact I’ve had from Donghyuck since our fight, but I can’t help the naive smile that breaks out on my face. I rush to open it, not worrying about the papercuts. Every doubt that was just in my head disappeared and my grandma interjects, hoping to bring me back down from my high.

“Sweetie, wait. I need to tell you that-”

To the owner of Princess Bakery,

Prince Lee Donghyuck will be celebrating his union with Princess Nam Soohae on 26 May, 2023 at the royal garden grounds. The royal family requests a wedding cake to be made with your expertise and culinary skills. 

Please accept this royal assignment with details soon to come.

Signed,

The Lees

The words on the page silenced me and my thoughts, my breaths barely leaving my lips. My eyes kept darting across the paper; the calligraphed words are being repeated over and over again in my brain. 

Prince Lee Donghyuck.

His union.

Wedding cake.

Realization finally dawns that this isn’t the love letter or apology I was expecting from Prince Donghyuck. A breath finally escapes and it’s shaky as it wavers in the air like an offkey music note. A heart-stopping pain envelopes my chest and it seizes up to my eyes. The whites of the paper burn my irises. I catch a teardrop splattering onto the parchment. I’m haunted with images of Donghyuck at the altar with someone else. And then I’m thinking about the garden. And us. 

Surprise.

Our first date.

Because I love you.

Because he loves me? Because Prince Lee Donghyuck loves me? Prince Lee Donghyuck who is getting married to an actual princess in a week? Suddenly, it feels like the floor’s unsteady and the oven temperature was turned up to the highest. The letter wrinkles between my fingers and the ink smudges with salty tears. 

This is what I was afraid of. And yet this is what I set myself up for. I knew I should have stopped seeing him. I knew it the moment mango tarts began to remind me of him. The moment my secret ingredient of love found in every bake was powered by him and his place in my heart. Even though I meant to stop this from happening during our talk in the royal garden, that small teaspoon of hope was still sprinkled in my mind. That hope stayed every time I saw a plant, a teacup, or a brunette. But now it’s dissolved.

A new feeling washes over me. One that I haven’t felt once these past two weeks. Not false hope. Not heartbreak. And not regret.

Anger. 

“Don’t blame him.” 

My grandma’s words slice through the red and her hands on my arms attempt to calm me down. I look up through wet lashes, lips trembling.

“Donghyuck… Prince Donghyuck had no say. The royals… they never do.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be my grandma?” I clench my jaw to stop the shaking, slightly regretting my bitter words. 

Her grip is softer. “Oh honey, I am. And that’s why I’m telling you not to waste this energy on being mad at him. What you guys share is beautiful, don’t let this taint it.” She takes the letter out of my hands and physically turns me to face her.

“Shared,” I corrected her.

“Share,” She corrects me. “Your love for each other is seen by everyone. I know it can’t flourish the way love is supposed to, but at least cherish it for what it was.”

Her words reintroduce more feelings. Sorrow. Frustration. 

“I was really hoping this time it works out…” She voices my thoughts.

At this point, I’m hiccupping between breaths, caught between reliving the past and hearing these explanations. The world was never meant to have us together it seems. But at least I was told this time we had an ending.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The next royal letter came two days after the first, and I was called to spend a week in the royal palace to test out different wedding cakes. I essentially had no choice but to say yes as the royal chauffeurs picked me up every morning to take me there. It felt like those sunrises with my grandma when I was seven but the butterflies in my stomach turned into bees. Unlike the past, I prayed I wouldn’t run into Prince Donghyuck, but with him having requested I make his cake, I’m sure he knows I’m here.

My grandma designated a portion of the kitchen to me as the head baker and it mimicked the old days as much as it could. That was until I got a visitor on the second day.

“Good morning! I’m Princess Nam Soohae.”

My eyes widened and my whisk fell out of my grasp as I took in her presence. She’s beautiful. She’s an actual princess. Her bright, toothy smile would’ve made anyone smitten if it weren’t for the fact that she was about to marry the man I loved. The pretty pink dress she wore was tinted green through my eyes. I shook my head, trying to remind myself of my place. 

“Good morning,” I bowed. “I’m the baker in charge of your wedding cake.” My smile faltered only slightly with the mention of the union.

She giggles and I almost want to laugh with her. “I know that, silly. I was sent by the Queen to sample some. Or should I say my future mother-in-law.” She bites her perfectly manicured nail with excitement.

Soohae leans her hands on the counter and peers at the bowl in my hand.

“Is there any to try right now?” Her head surveys the kitchen like a kid looking for cookies. It’s genuinely hard to dislike her.

“Um, I have a few cakes placed to the side to cool right now. There’s no frosting on it yet, but I’m sure it’d be good to try the base first!” I move to grab one of the trays and she flutters to follow me.

“Ooooh!” She gushes. “I’m so excited to try it. My own wedding cake, can you believe it?”

“No.” I almost drop the cake. “I mean, yes? Sorry. Getting married to the one you love is… it’s a crazy thing.” I cut a piece of cake and place it on a plate for her.

She doesn’t hesitate to take a bite and as she chews, she thinks. 

“I don’t love him yet, to be honest. This cake is really good, by the way.” I start cutting a slice from the other cake to sample. “But I know I will love him eventually. I already get butterflies when I look at him. I trust that he’s the one for me, I mean have you seen him?”

Before I can agree, and thank god she doesn’t give me a second to, she continues, “I know it’s silly for a person in my position to believe in the one. But I really, really do think it could be him. The other day he brought me my favorite flowers, like how did he know?!” She pops a bite of the other cake in and her eyes light up.

“Oh this is the one! Don’t even think about giving me another,” The Princess reaches for another bite and applauds me.

I laugh and make sure to note to go with the lemon base and not the mango one. As my hands are about to toss the mango cake away, my mind stops me and I consider whether Donghyuck would prefer this instead. The clanking of the Princess’s fork on the plate, finishing the lemon cake slice till it’s crumbs, reels me back and I let the cake fall into the garbage. It feels eerily like a metaphor.

For the rest of the week, Princess Soohae visits me and taste tests the frosting, fondant, and other things she wants. With every passing day, I hear more about Haechan and I can feel that her words have turned fonder. Coincidentally, her sweet tooth has gotten worse and the final components of the wedding cake are a complete sugar bomb like her personality.

On my final day, the Queen joins her. The last time I saw her majesty, she was berating the Prince as I secretly watched. It felt like I was in that hidden passageway again as she watches me prepare a slice of the wedding cake for her. My hands shake, placing the plate down in front of her and her gaze is sharp. It’s interesting how harsh her energy is when her facial features are as soft as the Prince’s. She looks like she’s been through a lot and I wonder if Donghyuck will experience the same thing when he fulfills his role as King. Like she can tell I’m thinking about him, The Queen’s eyes narrow. 

“I hope you enjoy,” I bow, and she doesn’t say a word. Princess Soohae on the other hand is completely bubbling over how good it turned out and how her guests are sure to love it too. 

The Queen simply nibbles on a piece and nods along. The black and white vibes almost give me whiplash as I stand there, watching the two of them. A sweat forms on my hairline and I’m internally glad this is my last day. I can’t go through this any longer. 

And like a karmic jinx, the kitchen door opens and a familiar brunette walks in. This time, it is him.

“Oh my! Prince Donghyuck!” Princess Soohae scrambles off her chair and bows both gracefully and clumsily. I bow as well, trying hard to hide the immediate blush on my face I get whenever I see him. I wonder if I can stay bowing so I don’t have to meet his face. The last time we saw each other was when we talked at the royal garden, and as much as I prayed I wouldn’t run into him here, truthfully, a part of me also hoped I would.

As soon as I force myself to stand up straight, we lock eyes and the strain in my chest loosens like a snapped thread. I can feel my lungs fill with air and it’s relieving to see him again after so long. It hurts in the best way as I’m overwhelmed by his presence. That familiar brown waved hair, the sunkissed tan skin, and the plump smiley cheeks. Everything is how I left it but his expression is not one I expected. He’s in complete shock and I don’t know what to do but look around the room to find something that would cause such surprise. I quickly glance at the Queen, and for the first time since she sat down, there’s a small lift in the corner of her mouth. Is she smirking?

“Princess?” He tilts his head, still staring at me before he realizes what he just called me. “Princess! Princess Soohae! I came to get you.” He runs over to grab her hand and the lifted cheekbones on her face tells me she’s grinning. 

“What- uh- what’s going on?” I’m fixated on the way he fiddles with her hand as he looks around the room for answers. 

“Cake testing? How did you forget, silly?” Princess Soohae laughs as she playfully pats his cheeks. Everyone in the room can tell she’s head over heels and my stomach hurts. As I’m clutching my stomach and the Prince stares at me quizzically, there’s one person in the room watching all of this go down.

“She’s the wedding cake baker we outsourced, Prince Donghyuck.” The Queen says calmly, gesturing to me. She tells him like it’s his first time hearing this and I’m taken aback, my movements making the utensils on the table quiver slightly.

“He didn’t know?” My mouth was too quick to voice my thoughts. “His highness, I mean.” I bow in apology.

“No. No, I didn’t.” His hands are at his side now, gripping the fabric of his sleeves. The shock left his face and now he’s staring at me with pity and then silent anger when his head turns towards the Queen. My eyes follow his and she returns his look as if to challenge him to say more. 

Completely obvious to the shift in atmosphere, Princess Soohae raves about the final wedding cake decisions and begs the Prince to try a bite. He turns her down without sparing a glance and asks her to leave with him. He doesn’t give me a second thought as he breaks eye contact with the Queen and drags his future wife away. There’s no stopping the ache that fills my chest again, slow but strong like the rising tide.

“So he still likes you.”

Snapped out of my haze, my ears don’t believe the words I hear coming from the Queen’s lips.

“Pardon?” She’s looking at me now and it’s a mixture of disappointment and disinterest etched on her face. The warmth on her face has depleted. 

“My son. Prince Donghyuck. He still likes you,” she laughs dryly. “After all these years…” 

My eyebrows furrow and I feel myself getting dizzy. Maybe this is all some sort of hallucination and the Queen isn’t talking to me right now. I grip the counter for support, and she doesn’t wait for me to respond.

“You know, I thought I handled the issue 15 years ago when I asked the head baker to stop bringing you here. I was stupid to think it would be that easy when he purposely sabotaged every date I set up for him the years after.”

She’s twirling the fork on the plate now and the scrapes make me flinch. The kitchen no longer feels like a safe space for me right now as her words slowly suffocate me. 

“And when he started to actually go on these dates this year and report back to me that they’re going well? I was foolish to think it was him beginning to try. I saw you one day, back in this kitchen. Back in his life. It all made sense and it made me so angry.” Her hands grip the fork handle. They’re dainty, but if you look close, they’re calloused, indicating years of work. Her face appears the same. If it weren’t for the terrifying state I was in, I would’ve wanted to comfort her. She looks up at me, and I felt tinier than I did before, her eyes piercing into me. 

“Do you not understand the life I’m trying to set up for Donghyuck? He’s the future king. He needs a queen, a real queen to survive in this world. As the queen, I know firsthand what he needs. My king wouldn’t be anywhere without me and his mother who set me up with him. You’re not fit for this role and you never will be.” She finally sets the fork down with a clatter. 

“Listen to me, and let him go. It’s what’s best.” Her threatening nature fades as quickly as it came and she gracefully stands up, brushing the nonexistent debris on her gown. The Queen gives me one final look, waiting for me to bow and essentially agree, before leaving the kitchen. 

The air returns and I grasp my chest to let myself breathe. Tears prick the corner of my eyes as I choke back sobs.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“Remember, it’s the room on the right hallway. Third door. And if anyone sees you, don’t tell them I sent you. I’ll get in trouble.” My grandma hammers in the details one more time, waiting for me to nod in confirmation.

It’s the end of my final day and she asked me to deliver pastries to a room in the palace before I leave, saying her workload is too large to be going herself. I figured it’s one more thing I could do before I never step foot in the palace again. I almost turned her down earlier in fear of running into the Queen. Just the thought of that happening makes me feel sick, but I know I won’t be seeing her again after this anyways.

I scoff, “So you’d rather I get sent to the guillotine?” I tease her with an exaggerated horrified look. 

She easily flicks my forehead, despite our height difference, and I grab it wincing. “You’re lucky I don’t chop off your head myself with that attitude of yours.” She sneers at me and I giggle.

“Fair…,” I playfully mutter, soothing the area between my brows.

Her directions sent me to a room with beautiful brown double doors. I smile at the two ladies standing outside of it and I’m about to explain why I’m here before they cut me off.

“Pastry delivery for the Prince?” They say in unison.

Like a horror movie, my jaw drops and I lose my instinct to run. One thing I do know is to make sure I yell at my grandma later as I nod and tell them they’re correct. She completely set me up.

On another occasion, I would’ve appreciated the doors to Prince Donghyuck’s bedroom more, but right now, they look like the gates of Hell. I attempt to swallow whatever saliva was left in my suddenly dry mouth as I brushed my hair out of my face. The ladies allow me to knock on the door. My palms are sweaty as I shakily knock on the varnished wood, hearing it echo into the space on the other side. His room must be huge.

No responses are heard. This was my out, but my body was telling me not to leave, even though my mind was screaming to run. Instead of knocking again, I turn the knob and almost wish it wasn’t unlocked, but it was.

There he is on the other side, scribbling at his desk. His back is facing me and I watch the muscles in them move with vigor. I haven’t seen him work this hard since he convinced me to teach him how to make a creme brulée and accidentally made scrambled eggs with the yolks.

I shut the door behind me and hope it catches his attention, but it doesn’t. I gulp, realizing how very real this situation is and I almost want to throw up knowing I have to speak.

“Hyuck.”

I hear him inhale and he spins quickly out of his chair to look at me. Different to how it felt seeing him in the kitchen earlier today, his face is softer, accepting my presence. My heart floats in my chest, wondering why I was so nervous to see him when just the sight of him oozes comfort. He looks at me like he’s feeling the same way. I see the longing in his eyes and the way they warm, I close my own to stop myself from giving in too much.

“Princess.”

His voice is fragile and his choice of words makes me shut my eyes harder, scared that I’d lose all my resilience and run straight into his arms. He doesn’t correct himself this time, and he says it again with more confidence.

I finally peel them open and force myself to act cold. Just an hour ago I was finishing his wedding cake; this fire has to be extinguished.

“Princess Soohae will make a great queen.” I move to set the pastry basket down on a table near me.

“It’s not what you think. I was going to-“ He turns around in a frenzy and grabs the paper he was just writing on. The Prince takes a step closer and it takes all my strength to recoil. It takes all of me not to be swayed by the obvious hurt on his face. This will be good for us, I have to remind myself.

My hand is up, drawing the line. “You don’t have to explain. It’s not what I’m here for.”

He hesitantly puts his arm down, eyebrow twitched in confusion. The paper is still in his hands.

“I got you a gift,” I partly smile. “A wedding gift and I guess, also… a goodbye gift.” With that statement, I break away from his stare, fixating on a corner in his grand room. 

I hear paper wrinkling. “A goodbye gift?” His voice gets lower and it causes me to wince. It feels like all the tension in the room gathered in the small vacancy in my chest and the overwhelming pressure makes my eyes sting. I can already feel the tears build up as I play with the hem of my shirt. 

“Mhm,” I painfully affirm. “The wedding cake. It’s both my gift and my goodbye. I thought you requested it when I first got the royal letter,” I laugh at the situation, trying to stop myself from letting him see me cry.

“Turns out it wasn’t you, but regardless. You’re getting married and I can’t be here anymore. So I left it in the kitchen. Obviously, it’s not a goodbye-goodbye, since I’ll still be living here in the city, but… No. Yeah, it’s a goodbye,” I nod to myself, trying to unravel the knot in my throat. “I guess you took my advice, huh? Congratulations, your highness.”

The silence from him is thick and it leaves a sour feeling in my stomach. It calls me to look up at him, and his eyes are icy cold. The sweet honey brown is as dark as coal.

“This is your response?” His words are robotic, I can feel the venom on his tongue as it pricks at my heart.

“S-sorry?” I tilt my head, not understanding him. It felt terrifying to make him repeat himself in the state he’s in.

“I told you I loved you. I’m assuming this is your response.” My eyes flicker to the paper in his fist, no longer readable. Neither is his face as he gives me the blankest look. It makes me want to cry more knowing this is how I will remember our last moments.

This time, I do take a step towards him but he’s shaking his head aggressively, lower back pressed against the edge of his desk. Now I know how he felt.

“If you want to hear me say ‘I love you’, you know I can’t do that.” Just having those three words leave my lips causes a tear to roll down my cheek. 

“Because I’m the Prince?” This time, his expression changes to match mine. I can feel the frustration and pain radiating off of him, and all I want to do is to tell him what he needs to hear. But I just nod, forcing a distance.

“So it always mattered. What if… what if it was 7-year-old Donghyuck asking his princess? What would you have said? You didn’t know who I was back then. I was just… just Donghyuck.” He sighs, his body is limp as he settles onto his desk. I notice his frail build, worried that he’s been eating less.

I smile, fondly remembering the ignorant bliss from 15 years ago. But then I’m forced to remember our situation now, our ugly situation where our hearts are demanded to stay silent. 

“I would’ve told him I loved him too.”

And with that, all strength is gone as I sob into my palm. I’m trying to force the wails in, but my body is shaking. My legs feel weak and he’s over here and his arms are wrapped tightly around me in a second. I can feel his heart beating against my arm trapped between our bodies and his breath shakily blowing on the top of my head. One hand is holding me tight and the other is brushing through my hair as he shushes me. 

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” He repeats. A part of me thinks this is to calm himself down too. 

I know I’m right when I slowly pull myself back and see the red in his eyes and on the tip of his nose. My hand flinches as I’m about to caress his cheek. His breath is steadier as it now fans across my face and his eyes are lidded like they’ve finally got some rest. My hesitation vanishes as I let myself cup his face, trace the constellation painted on his cheek, and feel the sweetness of his lips on mine. The warm sensation that envelops my body makes me gasp and Donghyuck tightens his embrace on me, refusing to let go. He tasted better than every sweet treat I’ve had combined. He was intoxicating and my whole body buzzed like a sugar rush. 

I close my eyes tighter, savoring the feeling of his lips, wanting to remember every trace — letting myself be selfish this last time. He’s sugary, cozy, and soothing like the afternoon sun on my back. His mouth moves with such ease against mine and it feels like I’ve been kissing him my whole life. The feeling of his tongue gently nudging my bottom lip jolts me back to reality and I push away, seized by the cold air of his big room again. 

I bring my hands to my face, hoping to cool down the flush. The Prince is breathing as heavily and in sync with me, and all I can hear is our matching breaths and the ringing in my ears. I have to end it here. 

“Um. Congratulations on your wedding,” I say in one breath. I don’t dare look at him as I quickly bow, scrambling to his door. 

“Princess! Wait,” He grabs my wrist, almost too tight. “I can’t go through with this. Please, I-I only want to marry you.”

“Your highness…”

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Say my name, please. Call me Hyuck. Call me Donghyuck. Anything but that. Just don’t-“ His teeth are chattering and he blinks away the tears. “Don’t leave me again.”

Without a second thought, I’m shaking my head ‘no.’ Even with tears blurring my vision, I can see the hurt on his face and I feel a part of my heart rot. It pains me just as much to reject him, but the Queen’s words swirl around in my head, unrelentless. I’m forced to leave him and my heart here and I want to scream, but I can’t. He notices that. It reminds him of himself.

Letting the finality of my decision settle in, he lets go of me, taking in a shaky breath. This was our end.

I restrain myself from taking any steps towards him as I reach for the door behind me. The wooden panel swings open, gliding past my extended fingers as I’m met with the face of the Queen.

That same hand shoots up to touch my lips, remembering what just happened in here and I bow till my hair grazes the tiled floors. 

“Your Majesty,” I squeak. She looks at me with a million emotions and plants her glare at the Prince. Like pieces of a puzzle coming together, her face twists into anger, dissecting the situation. I take this as my cue to leave but the Queen shuts the door behind the both of us. I don’t hear the Prince make any moves to save me.

“What were you doing in there?” She angrily whispers between clenched teeth. Not sure what comes over me, but the fear I felt before is gone. Instead, I’m left feeling numb.

“Don’t worry. I was just saying goodbye.” I swallow, bracing myself for her reprimands. 

A beat passes, before she speaks, this time in a normal tone. “Are you done?” 

I nod, “Yes, and I’d like to be excused from attending the wedding to serve the cake.” The Queen’s eyebrows quirk up, shocked that I’ve made a request. I look her straight in the eyes so she knows I mean it.

“I can’t… I can’t be there for that. I believe I’ve done all the preparation I can and I am not needed to actually attend.” My confidence waivers, and I draw my attention back to the ground.

“Fair enough. You don’t have to attend. I’ll tell the other bakers to serve it.” I take my chance to meet her eyes again and I can almost see concern on her face. I shake my head of that ridiculous thought, and offer her my best smile.

“Thank you, your majesty.” I bow before dragging my feet off the palace grounds. Hoping to never set foot in here ever again.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Bells. I plan to remove all bells from my bakery. The royal wedding bells have been ringing all morning and I don’t need any more reminders moving forward. 

I spent the whole night crying after leaving the palace and then my anxiety kicked in, trying to get me to map out my life without him. Naturally, I planned to pour myself into work and here I am, out of bed, manning the shop by myself on his wedding day. I may have cried into a batch of dough in the morning, but baby steps are important. This is only day one anyways.

I realized I made a mistake leaving the house when I overheard everyone in town talk about the wedding of the century. I even let my employees off for the day, mainly to have my space to wallow alone. Practically everyone was outside the palace gates, waiting to get a glimpse of the couple. The streets were currently empty and I wonder if I should just close up shop. 

Right when I was about to count up the cash and close out the register, the bell on the door jingles. I’m halfway into the one dollar bills when I roll my eyes at the sound, pressing my lips together to stop a groan. I make a mental note to remove the bell before I leave.

I look up to check on the customer and I see a man with, of course, brown hair surveying the bread on the back wall. All I can see is the back of his head as he peruses. I scoff to myself at the instant fluttering of my chest at yet another brunette customer. Is no one blond anymore? Are gingers that rare for me to never encounter one in my bakery?

I finish counting the ones and I move onto the fives when I realize he’s still standing in the same spot. I’m organizing the bills in my hands as I examine him. Normal guy. Black hoodie. Jeans. 

Maybe he’s just really indecisive. I can see him tapping his foot from the counter. I decide to offer help after I finish counting the five dollar bills.

With the last dollar to count, I place it in the tray and slowly walk over to the man. As I get closer, my stranger danger instincts kick in and I suddenly regret my decision. His foot is still shaking and from this close, I can see him fidgeting with his sleeves in front of him. I grab a pair of tongs from the closest case and approach him.

“Excuse me, sir? Can I help you find something?” I have the tongs gripped with both hands, discreetly but ready to swing. 

I see his body tense and my breath hitches, thinking I’m really going to have to hit this man with my makeshift weapon.

He turns around painstakingly slow and I raise the tongs instinctively to block my face, before letting out a squeal.

But then I see his face. And different bells go off.

“Oh my god. Hyuck?”

The bags under his eyes are prominent and I finally notice the way his hair has been pulled in different directions. His lips are dry as he cracks a sheepish smile. He’s rubbing the back of his neck and notices the kitchen utensil in my hands.

“Were you gonna hit me?!” His mouth is open in surprise and he’s taking the tongs from my hands. I let him and put my hands up in defense.

“You were standing there for so long, all fidgety! I’m alone in here, what was I supposed to think?” I fight back, taking the tongs back and clutching it close to my chest.

He lets out a long sigh, seemingly frustrated with himself as he runs his hands through his hair. I hate that I find it attractive.

“Wait.” He looks up at me through his lashes, swallowing. “What are you doing here?” I ask. He blinks, knowing that question was coming. 

I expected to feel sick awaiting his answer, but instead my heart is racing, anticipating his next words. I almost feel that false hope I felt a week ago, and I try hard to deny it. But the way he’s looking at me leaves me with no doubts. 

I’m about to push him out the door when he digs a hand into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. The wrinkled piece of paper from yesterday. He plays with it in his hands as he thinks about his next move.

“I was drafting a request to get the law changed.”

His words peak my interest. I set the tongs down and let him continue. Wrapping my arms around my waist for security, I’m fearful of what he has to say next.

“I’ve actually been working on it for the past two months.” He flattens the paper out in his hands. “You caught me finishing the final draft yesterday. I didn’t expect it to take up until my wedding day…” He laughs, unhumored by the situation. 

He hands it to me. “This is an old copy now, but it’s actually already being reviewed by the King. Right now. Being who I am, I fled just in case.” 

He looks at me anxiously as I read the top of the page, the words in bold:

Formal Petition to Repeal the Royal Marriage Ordinance 

Written By Prince Lee Donghyuck

My eyes don’t believe what’s written, like the royal letter I received not too long ago, requesting I bake the royal wedding cake. The same royal stamp and all rests in the top left corner. 

This time, I can read the words clearly. They settle into my chest, leaving me with such a funny feeling. I read the text and I can tell it’s written by him. I imagine him staying up every night after we meet in the kitchen, working by himself on this proposal. All of his hard work for the past couple months was printed on this very paper. All this work… for us. 

I feel my cheeks wet from pure joy and I cover the smile straining my mouth. A rush unfurls through my body like sweet, sweet sugar and I look up to share it with him. 

“Donghyuck… You-?”

“Marry me.” 

He gets down on one knee, holding my free hand. He’s rubbing that one spot on my ring finger and it feels unreal. The gleam in his eyes reminds me of the toasty fires in the oven, the glistening mangos on his favorite tart. His smile matches mine, nervous just slightly, and I want to paint this memory in my brain forever. The love and desperation in his eyes are begging me to think of him. Think of us. Every fear that had been eating away at me the past month was overcome by his pleas. This paper and his actions are proof that we can happen.

He continues, 

“Princess, please marry me. I’ve only wanted to marry you almost my entire life. I know that sounds crazy, but how can I doubt my obvious soulmate? You always come back to me, but I still don’t want another reason for you to have to leave. So please, trust me and trust us. Forget everything and everyone else and say you’ll marry me. If this petition doesn’t pass, I’ll continue to fight. Just…

Say you’ll be my princess forever.”

I tug his hand softly to get him to stand up. He obliges and I free my hands to hold his face. He finally breathes and closes his eyes, leaning into my touch. I can feel him relax and his hands rest on my hips, drawn like a magnet. My mind is bouncing back and forth trying to contain the frenzy in my heart and the steady warmth of my core. I tap his eyelid lightly with my thumb and ask him to look at me. He opens them slowly, fear still trickling in his irises. I smile at him.

“My Prince,” His breath hitches. “I love you too.”

Donghyuck wastes no time tucking his head into my neck and lifting me against his body. He spins me around between the cases of bread and I giggle, feeling his heart beat erratically against mine. He softly lets my feet touch the ground and we’re looking at each other again, tears adding sparkles to his eyes. I wipe them away instantly.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers, but it feels like he said it with his whole being.

“Always.” I say with just as much commitment.

We’re cherishing the moment together, laughing at how happy we get to be, when the wedding bells go off once more. I look at him with confusion and he shrugs, just as lost.

“I can’t believe my wedding cake is going to waste,” I pout, remembering all my hardwork. And he squeezes my hip at my choice to be silly, snickering.

“I can’t believe you went with a lemon cake. Do you even know me?” He teases, pretending to be hurt. I gasp, slapping his chest.

“I’ll make sure to go with the mango tarts for ours.” I press a soft kiss on his lips and he smiles with me, pulling me unbelievably closer. 

“I like the sound of that,” Donghyuck hums.

“I’m sure you do.” I laugh.

Donghyuck and I stand there in each other’s arms for as long as our legs allow. We talk about the past, how it felt to leave each other. We talk about the garden and I admit to catching him talk to his mom, which explains everything he needs to know. Even as I’m profusely apologizing, he’s doing the same, saying sorry for putting me in such a situation. I choose to ask about Princess Soohae and he bites his lip nervously, telling me he hasn’t handled that predicament yet. I almost drag him out of the bakery at the sound of that. We even go over his repeal proposal and I call him out for some typos.

Eventually we move to the kitchen, doing what we do best, and what we’ve done for years, waiting for someone to find him. The Prince and his Princess.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A/N: i hope you enjoyed!! pls like, reblog, reply, whatever!! if u want hehe

#lee donghyuck #lee haechan #haechan fic #prince haechan #royalty nct #royal nct #nct dream #nct #nct fic #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #haechan oneshot #haechan blurb #haechan imagine #haechan scenario #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan fanfic #lee donghyuck fic #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck fluff #lee donghyuck fanfic #lee donghyuck imagine #lee donghyuck oneshot #nct writing #haechan writing #haechwrites #haechan #lee donghyuck x reader

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

A Happy Christmas - R.Lupin

Summary - Remus and his wife have a tradition they follow every Christmas Eve, wrap the remainder of their children’s gifts and pull an all-nighter to get some extra alone time together.

Word Count - 821

Warnings - Female Reader, Potter!Reader(No physical description given), use of Y/N, Not sleeping (Let me know if I missed any)

Author's Note - Welcome to day 9 of 25 days of fics! I know that this one is later than usual and I apologize. I'm super sick at the moment with a bad head cold so I'm trying! I hope you enjoy!

Harry Potter Masterlist

my masterlist

25 days of fics masterlist

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged

Enjoy!

not my gif

not my gif

It was Christmas Eve, snow was falling, the fireplace crackling and the children were sleeping. Now Remus never thought he would have a life like this because of his furry little problem but he was happy that he was proven wrong. Y/N Lupin, once Y/N Potter, had been his wife for nearly 10 years, the two of them getting married right after graduating Hogwarts. James was always their biggest advocate and number one supporter no matter what.

They usually spent Christmas together, at James and Lily’s house so the kids could all be together. Being with family was the most important thing to Y/N, she always had someone with her when she was running errands or doing some housework. She was never alone so of course she wanted to spend the holidays surrounded by loved ones. James offered to host because, simply put, his house was bigger and could hold more people easier, thanks to professionally playing quidditch. 

All of the adults in the house were still awake, rushing around to get last minute gifts into the house or wrapped up with pretty paper to be put under the tree and torn open a few hours later. James and Lily had just finished up putting Harry’s things under the tree before calling it a night and going to bed themselves. This left Y/N and Remus alone and awake, wrapping the last of their childrens’ gifts.

They could do it with magic but both of them preferred the muggle way, wrapping the gifts by hand. That's why it usually took them twice as long to get everything wrapped and put away. This was their routine every Christmas Eve: wrap the presents together, put them under the tree and spend some quiet time together, knowing everyone was sound asleep.

As they finished putting the gifts under the tree, they took the time to just hold each other and watch the snow fall outside the window, just enjoying each other’s company. Y/N also never thought that she would have a life like she does now, she never thought that Remus reciprocated her feelings. She never thought she was good enough for him but to him, she was more than enough. She was the love of his life, the one person that he would protect with every fiber of his being. Once the kids came along, he knew that he would never give this life up for anything. He would kill for his family, he would sacrifice himself for his family because he knew that they would do the same.

They watched as the sun began to rise, the birds chirping outside, the footsteps of the kids running down the stairs followed by James and Lily’s lazy ones. When James took notice of his sister and his friend, he smiled sleepily knowing exactly what had occurred. “You two never went to sleep, did you?” He asked the pair.

“No, we stayed up watching the snow. Lost track of time. Happy Christmas James,” His sister responded, smiling right back at her big brother.

“Happy Christmas Y/N.”

“Mummy, daddy, can we open our gifts now?”  The youngest Lupin boy asked innocently as he hugged her leg.

“Go on then, they aren’t going to open themselves,” Remus teased as he ruffled his son's hair. 

With the proper go ahead, the three children tore into their gifts, paper flying all over the place. The parents huddled together, watching the delight in their children’s eyes as they took in all of their new toys and clothes. Little Harry was especially excited to see his very own broom gifted by his aunt Y/N and uncle Moony. This was the life that they wanted to live and enjoyed every second of it.

“Happy Christmas my love,” Remus said quietly to his wife as he handed her a small wrapped box.

“Happy Christmas Remmy,” She replied, handing him his gift. The two of them opened them together as the kids all giggled in the background. Remus had given her a gorgeous necklace that held two interlocking hearts that held their initials. Y/N had given him a new sweater, one he had been eyeing up the last time they went out to the shops together. “There’s something else under the sweater,” She hinted to him.

So he took out the sweater to reveal an ultrasound picture. “You’re kidding? Please tell me this isn’t a joke,” He had a wide smile on his scarred face, excited at the fact that they were bringing another kid into the world.

“It’s not. We’re having another baby!” She exclaimed, James and Lily immediately ending their conversation as they overheard. Remus engulfed his wife into a tight hug, lifting her off of the ground as he laughed happily. 

The whole house was overjoyed with the news, everyone smiling big and giving hugs wherever they could. It was a typical Lupin-Potter Christmas.

#remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #james & peter & remus & sirius #moony #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #james potter #harry potter #prongs #james potter x sister!reader #remus john lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #remus lupin imagine

[fiapartridge]

cruel summer | jack hughes

"he looks up grinning like the devil..."

jack hughes x reader

summary: it's another hot summer night at the hughes family's lake house, and yours and jack's secret relationship is tested now more than ever...

warning(s): swearing

top 3 songs on lover: cruel summer, cornelia street, dbatc (honorable mention: the archer) and you can quote me on that

You've known the Hughes family for as long as you could remember. Your parents met in college, and since then, your families have spent every summer at the lakehouse together. To say that the three boys and you were close would be an understatement. You guys were inseparable.

When Jack moved to New Jersey to play for the Devils, you had just recently got into Princeton. You both were elated. Sure, it was still about an hour drive away from him, but it beat being in Michigan. Before the move, everyone saw you and Luke as the best of friends, the ones that could barely go a day without seeing each other, the ones where laughing was the only thing in their vocabulary, but when you moved to New Jersey, all of that changed. 

You still talked to Luke and you saw him on occasion, like Christmas break or on Thanksgiving, but not as much as you saw Jack. When Jack learned that you were going to Princeton, he rearranged his entire schedule to make him able to pick you up on the weekends and bring you to Newark to hang with him and the team. They became some of your best friends and Jack, well, you guys were closer than ever.  

You suppose that that was when it all started: the secrecy, the quick kisses, the hand-holding underneath table linen— the start of your secret relationship. Though it was all out in the open in Jersey: you staying at his apartment; in his bed, having an extra toothbrush in his bathroom, wearing his hoodies, and staying up talking until the sun came up. 

After a year of going back and forth between Newark and Princeton, debating whether this whole thing was merely just you guys hanging around each other for your families’ sake, or if it was really something more, Jack felt like he knew the obvious answer. He never wanted to talk to you and be around you because of your families. Sure, that was a factor, but he just loved you, and knowing you. And when he asked you to be his girlfriend, to his surprise, you said yes.

So when summer started up again and Jack Hughes was officially your boyfriend, you knew your families would have a field day with it, so you kept it a secret. You didn’t want things to change, you didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable with you going into his room anymore just like you had done so many summers before, or them being weirded out with the fact that you guys kiss and hold hands among other things. You guys just didn’t want them to see you two differently— especially his brothers. Quinn and Luke— they were your best friends. You couldn’t mess that up.

The boys (along with the addition of Z, Coley, Turcs, Eddy, and Duker, who practically begged Quinn to let them stay for the summer) were in the backyard, playing games in the pool when you walked back inside the lakehouse, water spilling off your swimsuit, dampening up the hardwood floor. 

“Y/N/N, you’re getting the floor all wet,” your mom scolded as she and Ellen sat on the couch, drinking wine and talking about their lives leading up to today. 

You grabbed a towel from the cabinet beside the door, letting it hang over your shoulders as Ellen smiled brightly at you. She waved you over to where they were sitting. “Oh, let me see my beautiful, Y/N/N.” 

You grinned upon hearing Ellen’s voice. She was like a second mother to you. You came to her for almost everything. And Ellen loved her boys, but you, you were like the daughter she never had. “You, darling, are stunning,” she beamed. “Come, sit.”

You sat on the carpeted floor, not wanting to mess up the couch. “How’s college?” Ellen asked.

“It’s— a change, but I really like it.”

She raised her brow humorously. “Any boyfriends?”

Hm. You figured the first night of summer may not be the best time to tell her that you are dating her fucking son. So, you shook your head and said, “No. Uh, that department’s still in development.”

She laughed. “I remember when you and Lukey would chase each other around the house when you were little. You’d knock over every single vase in sight. We’d spent a thousand dollars on repairs that month.”

You scrunch your nose. “Sorry.”

“No, no!” she waved it off. “You kids were having fun. I missed it when you guys were kids. The boys have been— stressed to say the least, but the second Jack found out you were going to be in Jersey with him, it’s like his whole demeanor shifted. This past year, it’s like… he’s only been happy.”

“Speaking of Jack,” your mom turned to the figure walking through the backdoor. 

“I was wondering why the lemonade was taking hours,” he smiled at you. “Hi, moms.” He kissed the top of his mom’s head and kissed your mom’s cheek as he stood behind the couch, beaming at you. He loved seeing you with his mom. Every girl he dated in the past had good relations with his mom, but they were never you. You’d known her since birth. No one had a bond like you two. 

Maybe that was another fear; why you had to keep this whole thing a secret. What if Ellen hated you? I mean, she never could. She always anticipated you ending up with one of her boys, but there was still some fear lingering in the back of your head; that maybe she’d think of you differently.

“Sorry we stole her,” Ellen said. “We just needed some girl talk.”

“That’s never good.”

Ellen threw a pillow at him as he ducked, grabbing your hand and pulling you up towards the kitchen. “Go, go, go!” he yelled as you laughed behind him.

When you two finally made it into the kitchen, checking if anyone was around, Jack slowly backed you up against the counter, a smirk dancing across his lips as he held onto your hips and kissed you. You sighed into the kiss, placing your hands on his sub-burnt cheeks. There wasn’t much time for intimacy like there was back in New Jersey, so you took every slim chance you had.

“What’d you guys talk about?” he whispered, his lips still a close distance from yours as if moving a bit farther would ruin the electric atmosphere around you.

“College, you, boyfriends.”

“Boyfriends?” he looked at you, grinning like the devil before tickling your sides as you laughed, pushing his hands off of you. “What’d you say?” he asked once he was done attacking you with tickles. His hands remained on both sides of the counter, trapping you in him. You both glanced at the entrance from time to time, making sure the coast was clear.

“What? You jealous?” 

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, I’m so jealous. Let me go beat up this boyfriend of yours,” he said before pretending to hit himself in the face. 

“Okay, okay, okay. This is getting embarrassing,” you laughed, scrunching your nose at him as you walked around him and pulled out the pitcher of lemonade from the fridge.

Just as Jack was about to pull you back into him, he jumped backwards upon hearing Luke’s voice enter the room. “God, you guys are so fucking slow. What are you doing? Making out?”

Your face turned beet red as Luke shook his head and took the pitcher from where you placed it on the counter.

“Why? Is that what you and Duker are doing outside?” Jack asked, smirking.

Luke scoffed, rolling his eyes. “How have you never noticed that Duker and I have something going on? It’s like you don’t even pay attention anymore, Jacky,” he said, shaking his head before shuffling out the door and back outside to the pool.

You let out a breath, laughing as Jack wrapped his arms around you, matching your energy. 

This was going to be a long summer. 

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #nhl fan fiction #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #jack hughes fluff

[maybank-archives]

call me up - jj maybank

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warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. ´phone sex. mutual masturbation. language. dirty talking.

word count: 0.8k

author’s notes: first week of kinktober!!! hope y'all liked. not really proofread

masterlist | join the taglist | kinktober masterlist!!!!

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JJ’s phone buzzed in his pocket again. It was the fourth one. He and the gang were on the beach chilling, except for his girlfriend who was traveling with his family for a couple of days. Because both of you were inseparable, JJ was trying to be sociable without you, he was getting pretty tired actually, but he just couldn’t bring himself home.

Not until now.

JJ took a sip of his beer before picking up his phone. His breath betrayed him as he read the messages.

You up? I miss you so badly (1) Attachment Hello???? I need you J

JJ chokes on his drink as he sees your body in bed with the tiniest lingerie.

“Hey, are you ok man?” John B asks as he sees JJ’s expression.

JJ coughs and nods in response. “I-I’m good, I'm calling out the night k?.” JJ says rushing to his bike.

You, on the other hand, were ok staying home and not socializing with your parents' friends. Right after they left the hotel, you locked yourself into your bedroom and tried to entertain yourself by watching a movie, but being all alone was a bit depressing especially when you aren’t used to staying away from your boyfriend and friends for more than two hours.

The feeling of boredom hits you anyway, your eyes are on the TV but your mind is in another place. You’d already been comfortable on your bed in nothing but your underwear. You tried, but it was hard to resist the temptation. You snapped the picture without thinking and sent it to your boyfriend.

It didn't take long before he sent you a reply. He was leaning in his bed, with no shirt and sitting only in his boxers, the caption was “all yours”. Gosh, I would kill to have him with me right now.

Your fingers caress your body as you squeeze your legs together. The phone starts vibrating distracting you from your imagination.

“Hey” JJ's husky voice greets you

“Hi baby,” you responded in a clingy way “I’m missing you so badly.”

“Oh I see, my girl is feeling extra needy tonight aren't ya?” You could hear the smirk on his face as he talked. “You can’t do this to me, princess, not when I don't have your mouth around.”

“What would you do if I was there?.” You asked

In a quiet deep voice, JJ replied “I take every piece of your clothes off, give ya neck some sick hickeys as squeeze your ass and make my way in between your legs.”

A hot feeling flooded your body with his words. You felt drunk off the neediness of him. The memory of his deep voice vibrating against your inner thighs, made your skin shiver.

“And?” You said in between your teeth

“You tell me…What would you want me to do?” He teases, you smile to yourself, as you bite your lip.

“I don’t know, but I can’t tell you what I’m doing right now.” You teased back hearing JJ hiss.

“Then tell me, cupcake.”

“I’m rubbing my pussy, thinking about your hard hot cock, you’re the one only who can do this to me, baby.” Your voice sounded more like a moan. “I can only think about your dick inside me.”

“Fuck Y/N, I’m already so hard…you’re going to be a good girl and listen to what I say?”

“Yes.”

“Then suck this finger with this pretty little mouth of yours and slide them to your clit, rub them faster for me, m’kay sweetheart?”

“Mmm.”

“Yeah baby, think of my tongue playing with ya, how I would suck you so hard.” JJ groans “Let me hear your moans.”

You do as he says, shut your eyes closed, and keep thinking about how good JJ makes you feel, you bite your lip again, harder and let a moan escape as you massage your sensitive clit faster.

“Now fingers baby, make it feel good like my cock does.” JJ's husky voice demands.

By this point, JJ was jerking himself just thinking about you, with your legs spread fingering yourself.

“Talk to me Y/N.”

“Yes JJ, I want to ride you so hard, make you cum inside my mouth and choke me.” You cry

“Fuck, are you close baby?”

“Almost…”

“Then keep doing that, cause when we meet, I’ll show you and, fuck, make it up to you, and make you scream my name, I’ll have you on top of me, riding my dick as you like, make you squirt as I suck you, my dirty girl…” JJ says out of breath, his pumps were neat, your breaths weren’t different, it was edging JJ closer.

“Oh my…” You let a desperate moan

“You can come, baby, I want to hear you…”

“Fuck JJ!” you felt your orgasm getting closer.

“Shit,” JJ moans loudly as that rush of pleasure and euphoria took over his body.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you went incoherent after that, but it didn’t matter. Your moans intermingled as both of you came down from your highs.

There was relative silence for a few moments as their breathing settled.

“That was fun J.” you finally spoke

“And fucking hot,” JJ added making you chuckle.

“don't be shy,send me more pictures and call me up whenever,i'll make time for you always babe,”

“your wish is my demand j."

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✧˚ . taglist ˚✧ (join here): @loverofmarsss,

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© maybank-archives 2023 — no one has permission to copy or translate any of my works, if you see any of my work being reproduced in another platform please contact me! :)

#jj mayback x reader #jj maybank #rudy pankow #jj mayback imagine #outerbanks #obx #obximagines #outer banks #outerbanks headcanon #jj maybank headcanon #jj obx #jj outerbanks #maybank #jj maybank smut #headcanon #fanfic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank blurb #jj outer banks #obx x reader #obx x you #obx smut #obx imagine #obx blurb #outer banks x reader #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank obx

[allmoshnobrain]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 28 of ? | masterpost

word count: 2167 | ao3 link | fic's playlist

For the first time in days, I felt something beyond apathy, even if it was a messy mix of sadness, anger, and confusion. How could he think I hated him? How could he think I didn't love him, that he wasn't enough, that I wouldn't do anything to have him around? It wasn't fair. It was tearing me up inside.

✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle

✧ On the night that we met / I looked cool, rolling cigarettes / You were fooled by my jokes / I was too, I didn't know you / And I woke up alone / In a frozen, broken home / And my cousin gave me the flu / So, I flew back to L.A., but not back to you ✧

Cliff stuck around for most of the next week. If my parents found it odd that I moved back in with them and got dumped by my boyfriend out of nowhere, they didn't say a word. Honestly, I hadn't seen them so thrilled in ages. Yet, in my bitter and gloomy state, I could only picture that their joy, especially my mom's, had more to do with having me back under their thumb, away from friendships and romances they didn't approve of, than actually having their daughter back in their lives.

A couple of days later, Cliff and my dad rolled out to grab my stuff. I felt kinda bad for dragging Cliff into all this mess; first, he drove all the way from LA to Long Beach to bring me home on that rainy Sunday, and then he had to make the trip back to LA to snag my motorcycle and all the other junk still hanging around the apartment Dave and I used to share. Even if I had the guts to go, I knew Cliff and my dad wouldn’t have let me. So, I just stayed behind in Long Beach, sprawled on my bed, watching the sunlight lazily dance across the ceiling, the hours ticking away without any real purpose.

Of course, Cliff offered to help me unpack everything afterward; I figured he just wanted to make sure I wouldn't try to tackle it solo. I'd been so zoned out and drained during the last few days that anything that could be remotely unsettling to me had become a shared concern between him and my parents. I played it cool, ignoring the hushed comments they exchanged when they thought I couldn't hear; their worries about how fragile I supposedly was, that I might not be strong enough to bounce back.

I just sat on my bed, watching in silence as Cliff lugged in box after box; my clothes, my records, my whole life from the past few months, all packed and sorted like it meant nothing. He dropped the last box on the floor with a grunt before settling down next to me on the bed.

"Ready?" he asked, his fingers running through my dark brown hair, untangling some of the knots that had formed in the past few days. Despite my mom's attempts to help me, I hadn't mustered the strength to care about my appearance lately. I shook my head no, my gaze unfocused, and Cliff held my hand before saying, "Hey, it's okay. We can head downstairs, grab a bite. What do you think?"

"No," I murmured, my voice coming out hoarse and faltering from lack of use. "No, let's get this over with now."

"Okay," Cliff said, getting up, seeming pumped that I had finally said something. It hit me that those were indeed my first words of the day. "I'll grab this box with your clothes, and you can sort out that small one over there."

I sighed, giving a nod. Despite not being a pro at organizing my room, Cliff kept pushing to shield me, tackling the bulkier and trickier tasks. It didn't really lift my spirits; if anything, I felt guilty for piling all this work on him. But I pushed those thoughts away as I sat on the floor, cracking open a box and checking out what was inside.

I let out a sigh when I stumbled upon my vinyl record collection, and there was my jewelry box tucked into an extra space. I grabbed it, popping it open and blinking when I found an envelope inside. I tore it open, pulling out the blue necklace Dave had given me for my birthday. I hadn't worn it when I went to grab my jacket at Mike's house, but now its chain was broken, and that made my throat tighten because I knew it was intact the last time I had it on.

I couldn't help but wonder if Dave had broken it, if his anger toward me was so intense that he wanted to wreck one of the gifts he'd given me. Giving the envelope a shake to be sure there was nothing else inside, a little piece of paper tumbled into my lap. I picked it up, curious, my eyes filling with tears as I read what was written on it.

I'm sorry for being such a shitty person. I never meant to hurt you; I'm so sorry I wasn't enough. Just please promise you won't forget me, or at least that you won't hate me forever.

I started bawling before even finishing the note, tossing the paper away. For the first time in days, I felt something beyond apathy, even if it was a messy mix of sadness, anger, and confusion. How could he think I hated him? How could he think I didn't love him, that he wasn't enough, that I wouldn't do anything to have him around? It wasn't fair. It was tearing me up inside.

Cliff swiftly ditched the box he was packing and plopped down next to me, giving me a tight hug, pulling me close to his chest as tears rolled down my face. He hoisted me up like it was nothing, carrying me over to my bed and lying down beside me, wrapping me up in his arms and whispering that everything would be okay. I could barely hear him, though, drowning in my own distress.

It took a while for me to calm down, but he didn't leave my side for a second, his fingers running through my hair in a comforting move as I buried my face in his chest. When my tears finally dried up, all that lingered was silence; silence and exhaustion as I tried to brush off the pulsating emptiness in my chest.

"Maybe you should talk to him," Cliff finally murmured, sounding hesitant, like his words might trigger another round of tears, which, honestly, wasn't too far off the mark. "If you like him so much, you should talk to him."

"Cliff, I can't... I can't do it," I whispered, my voice faltering. And it was true; I couldn't talk to him without breaking into tears. Worse, if he didn't want to listen, if he didn't want to believe me, it felt like I could shatter into a million pieces. All I wanted was to have him back, but I didn't know what I would do if he rejected me, if nothing worked out, and that scared me beyond words.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I'm sorry," he said, kissing my cheek and holding me close. "It will pass, I promise. Everything will be okay."

I gave a nod, sniffling as I wiped my face, that same apathy from before hitting me even harder. But Cliff's embrace made me feel a bit better. It was like slipping into something familiar: the scent of his skin, his hair, just like back in the day when we were kids and used to crash at each other's places, just to end up sleeping on the same bed. I couldn't help but feel grateful he was there with me.

"You know..." Cliff started, then hesitated. "James really cares about you. You know he didn't want this to happen, right?"

I stayed silent. Thinking about James over the past few days was something I consciously avoided, mostly because I was pissed. Not necessarily at him, but more about how everything went down between us. He'd tried calling me a few times since Sunday, but I swerved all his calls. I just didn't have the energy to deal with him right now, to unravel the whirlwind of emotions he stirred up. And I knew that, despite all the pain from the breakup with Dave, my feelings weren't any less intense: I still loved him, and that hurt me the most.

Cliff didn't push it. We just hung there, wrapped up in each other's arms until I eventually crashed out. Despite it all, being with him made me feel secure; sheltered and loved, for the first time since everything went sideways.

Things didn't exactly get easier after Cliff left. He didn't want to bail, but I knew he had band commitments and, let's be real, there was no legit reason for him to keep babysitting me. Those wounds weren't magically gonna heal overnight, after all.

December rolled in, and my parents decided to whisk me off on a European trip to shake things up. Yet, despite the change of scenery, it was hands down one of the crappiest New Year's of my life. I'd paid a jeweler to patch up the chain of my necklace, and started wearing it as a bracelet all the time. At first, that hurt too, but as days rolled by, the pain and sadness twisted into a strange kind of fondness.

Post New Year's, we rolled back to Long Beach. While my parents were busy fine-tuning their grand plans for my education over the next few years, I was on a mission to piece myself back together, bit by bit. Long Beach hadn't changed much in a year, and I found myself gravitating back to some of my high school buddies. Charlotte, a Drama Club friend, became my main go-to. She'd hopped on the theater train after graduation, and I started tagging along to rehearsals, first as a spectator, then as an assistant.

Most importantly, I dove back into art, especially drawing. Most of the time, I ended up sketching everything I could recall about Dave — his hands, his hair, his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his nose crinkled when he grinned. All the things I longed to have back. All the things I couldn't bear to forget. Turns out, my drawing and painting skills, though a bit rusty from the neglect, hadn't completely ditched me.

The end of January rolled in fast. On a particularly chilly and gloomy day, I got a call from Cliff.

"Hey, Nore," he greeted me, the usual laid-back tone in his voice.I could almost picture him chilling on the couch, probably puffing on a cigarette while holding the phone with one hand. "How are you?"

"I... I'm okay," I replied, though the truth was, I was still working on getting there. "And how 'bout you guys?"

"Ah, we're good. Same old," Cliff answered. I hesitated. I almost asked if he had any news about Dave, but then it hit me — I was scared as hell to hear the answer. Scared he hated me. Scared he forgot me. Scared he moved on, or worse, still loved me. So, I didn’t ask, and he didn't tell me. "Listen, I got an invite for you."

"An... Invite?" I asked, a bit on edge. I'd been cocooning myself in a bubble for the past few months, keeping crazy busy to dodge thinking about all the drama with me, Dave, and James. I wasn't sure if I was ready to peel away from the safety of that isolation, but I figured I might as well hear Cliff out. "What invite?"

"Well, the guys and I locked in a tour... in Europe. Just a handful of gigs, you know, but I was thinking if you'd be up for joining us."

"Oh. I literally just got back from Europe, Cliff. Spent New Year's there."

"Really? I had no clue," the classic irony in his voice made me scoff, rolling my eyes. "I won't bug you if you're not up for it, but it's gonna be our first international tour. Oh, and we're opening for Venom, by the way. I just reckon you'd be a dummy to pass on this chance."

"Alright, fine. I'm in," I agreed, more to keep him happy than for any other reason. My stomach did a bit of a flip, the thought of facing Lars, Kirk, and especially James again stirring up a cocktail of excitement, nervousness, and anxiety. "But you gotta work your magic on my parents."

"I've already had a chat with them. Your old man thought it'd be a good plan for you to shake things up a bit. It's just ten days; we'll be back before you know it. Deal?"

"Okay," I murmured, trying to suppress the little grin that insisted on spreading through my face. "I'll go, then."

"Cool, I'll tell the others," Cliff replied, his laid-back tone now tinged with excitement. "I'm stoked you're coming... Missed you, you know?"

"Yeah, I missed you too," I said with a smile.

For a second, it almost felt like I could shove the sadness that had been trailing me for weeks into the background. I'd been to gigs before, sure, but tagging along on a tour was a whole new deal. And hell yeah, catching Venom live, one of the bands the guys and I worshiped, got me buzzing. Maybe, just maybe, letting myself get swept up in this distraction wasn't such a bad idea.

Maybe, just maybe, it was time to start living again.

✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777

#ada writes fanfiction #heartbreaker fanfic #metallica #megadeth #james hetfield #dave mustaine #cliff burton #lars ulrich #metallica fanfiction #dave mustaine x oc #dave mustaine fanfiction #nore burton (oc) #james hetfield x oc #metallica x reader #megadeth x reader #james hetfield x reader #dave mustaine x reader #metallica smut #megadeth smut #james hetfield smut #dave mustaine smut #cliff burton x reader #megadeth fanfiction #david ellefson #kirk hammett #megadeth x you #metallica x you #dave mustaine x you #james hetfield x you

[rockingrobin69]

Last Minute

The right turn was apparently the wrong one, and they had to drive another ten miles before they found a place to stop. Harry still wasn’t very confident behind the wheel, a fact he strictly refused to admit; it was unto Draco then to tell him, a little shrilly, that he was nearly scraping that fence and to watch that bloody lamppost! Which didn’t put either of them in a great mood.

Then the rain came on, of course. Then the tyre air pressure light, again. Then a sheep sauntered onto the one-lane excuse for a road, and a lorry nearly crushed them flat, and the wheels flicked mud all over the passenger-side window.

They’d run out of snacks two hours ago and were about to run out of fuel. The radio, which had been playing screeching static for the last thirty miles, was now adamant on sticking to some Tory-bullshit chat about bus fare. Draco wished he’d taken the bus; wished he’d left the country; wished he told Harry to forget it, forget the whole thing, just, enough. Go back home with their tail between their legs and admit defeat, because none of it actually mattered.

Wait. There was—wait, that was true. None of it actually mattered. Draco tapped the frown between his eyebrows, then clicked his tongue.

“Hey,” he put his hand on Harry’s arm. When all he got was an annoyed hum: “Can you just—stop for a second?”

Miraculously, the road provided a place to pull over, which Harry then did, and added a deep, painful sigh to the whole tragic affair.

“What?” with this weariness he only got on long drives.

“Why are we doing this?” Draco asked, and wished his voice had come out gentle instead of accusatory. “I mean—who are we trying to prove wrong? I know how far I can go on spite alone, and apparently it’s exactly three-hundred and seven miles.”

Harry swallowed a small sound of surprise. “What? You mean—you want to turn back? Now?”

“Would that be so bad?”

“It’s a fucking three-hundred miles journey and it’s getting late.”

Draco rubbed his eyes, nodded. “All right. Then we don’t go home. We planned to spend the night anyway—”

“At your fucking parents’ estate.”

“Yes. And instead of torturing ourselves, why not try the next lovely bed and breakfast we see. Why not—take a ferry and go to Arran. Why not do anything that doesn’t involve Lucius Malfoy, and possibly as little driving as can be, and just have a nice night? Why not forget about all this,” hand gesturing vaguely at the rain, at the mud, at the mileage, “and remember the only thing that’s actually important?”

Harry’s pout should not have been so endearing. “Which is?” he asked, suspicious.

“This,” couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Took Harry’s hand and squeezed. “My darling, my idiot, this, this is what matters.”

Harry sucked in a breath. Closed his eyes. Shook his head, nodded, then shook his head again. “Your father—”

“Can eat an entire, gigantic, garlic flavoured, extra-hot bag of dicks.” With a devilish smile that made even Harry crack a grin. “Who bloody cares. Let him rot. In fact, I think I know a place just down the road—if we are where I think we are—it’s nice and has a great view to the loch when, you know, it isn’t chucking it down, and… what do you say?”

Harry shook his head again, but he was still smiling. “You fucker. Of course. I fucking love it.” Leaned down to give the corner of Draco’s mouth a peck. “Fucking love you.”

“Me too,” Draco said, and, “idiot,” and kissed him again, properly this time.

It turned out they weren’t at the junction Draco thought he knew. It took about thirty minutes and three wrong turns to find it. Didn’t matter: fuck, what a relief that it just didn’t matter, because Harry’s hand was rubbing gentle lines over his (and not angrily drumming on the gearstick), because he was still smiling, because they had this all to themselves. The rain and the traffic and the terrible road. The whole night just for them.

My darling @getawayfox, happy, happy birthday. I love you and also I love you and also, I love you.

#drarry fic #700 words #soft #bickering and being crabby and also soft #roadtrip #rockingrobin69 #Harry is not a good driver. but he's enthusiastic

[jjkeremika]

Express Divine Devotion

description: eremika moments over the years

inspiration: photo above: (“jane austen’s ‘if i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more’ plus sylvia plath’s ‘it seems i can only write you letters that i can never send’ plus lana del rey’s ‘there’s things i wanna say to you but ill just let you live’)

pairing: eren jaeger x mikasa ackerman, eremika (Aot/Snk)

**before they lived together as kids**

Carla stared out the window with an adoring smile on her face as she washed dishes, watching Eren and his new friends Armin and Mikasa play with fallen branches.

Grisha appeared behind her, placing his hands delicately on her hips, which startled her, causing her to jump a little.

He chuckled, “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” and pressed multiple soft kisses to her cheek.

Her smile returned and she turned her head, kissing her husband. Grisha pulled her closer with one arm around her waist, using his other hand to shut the faucet off, then cupped her cheek to attend to the kiss.

Eren, Armin, and Mikasa stood in a half-circle, watching Eren’s parents kiss through the window.

“Ha-have you guys ever k-kissed anyone?” Armin asked in a small voice, his head tilted to the side but his eyes were still fixed on Carla and Grisha, his fingers playing with each other.

“My mum kisses me a lot,” Eren answered with crossed arms, furling his face like he was grossed out, “and pinches my cheek…” He lightly touched his palm to his cheek.

“That… That’s not what I meant,” Armin returned softly, looking down to his feet, “It doesn’t matter; it’s silly.”

“Why do you ask, Armin?” Mikasa spoke quietly yet she always commanded their attention. Eren stared at the loose scarf around her neck.

His cheeks blushed and he dug the toe of his shoe into the dirt, keeping his eyes low. “Curiosity,” he practically whispered it, avoiding Eren and Mikasa.

“Kids, come inside! It’s getting dark!” Grisha called from the back doorway, staying in the doorway even as they made their way back.

About halfway back to the house, Eren grabbed Mikasa’s wrist and pulled her arm, dragging her to a stop. “Ere—”

His other hand started undoing the scarf halfway, then rewound it around her, letting the extra drape around her shoulder.

“Was bothering me,” he answered her unasked question with a light blush, and started dragging her along with the grip still tight on her wrist, “Let’s go eat dinner.”

**during the year they lived together as kids**

Eren was still awake when Mikasa jolted upright from her makeshift bed on the floor—the frame still in wood planks outside. She was breathing rapidly, and her hair was messy from having rolled around.

They made eye contact, Mikasa’s wide scared eyes connecting with Eren’s surprised gaze, and she softly apologized. Then she laid back down and rolled to the side, clutching the sheet a little more tightly.

“Are… Are you okay?” he whispered cautiously, sitting up from his bed, trying to peer at her through the dark.

He heard her sniffle. “Yes,” she answered quietly, sniffling again, “just a nightmare.”

Eren slipped out from his sheets and crossed the room to her bed, sitting down cross-legged. “When I have a nightmare, one of my parents will lie with me. I can go get one of them if—”

“No, it’s okay. Don’t wake them up,” she replied softly. There was a pause followed by a sniffle.

“I’ll do it,” Eren stated factually, moving and situating himself next to her, “and you can’t complain because i’m already awake.”

She blushed softly at the notion, at her friend’s comfort. It felt lonely at night, laying in a faux bed in a different house, her dreams and memories reminding her of the horrific events, haunting her at her loneliest hour.

Yet here’s the same savior, the same protection.

He placed his arm around her and let her cautiously settle in. “It’s okay,” he comforted, “nothing can happen to you when I’m with you.”

**second night after colossal/armor attack**

“Eren! Armin!” Mikasa called from across the shelter room, waving her arm for them to locate her. Armin spotted her first and grabbed Eren’s attention, waving back and heading over.

Armin hugged her when they reunited for the night, squeezing her a little tighter than he used to. She turned to Eren when Armin let go, whose arms were crossed and eyes were dull.

Mikasa reached out, barely grabbed his hand, held it lightly between her palms. “Eren…”

He met her gaze, the color the darkest she’d ever seen, tears held onto the waterlines. “I’ll be okay,” he croaked, like he’d lost his voice from shouting for answers, from crying, “you know… I was thinking…”

Mikasa tilted her head to the side curiously, his hand still between hers. “I told you nothing would happen when we’re together… and… I…” He swallowed tightly, his free hand clenching into an even tighter fist. Mikasa could feel his other hand start to shake. “I couldn’t do anything.”

“We’re alive, Eren,” she quickly responded to soothe his visible pain, to ease the load and carry the burden with him, “Healthy and alive and together. As long as we’re both alive…” She held his hand a little closer, soothed the shaking. “That’s good enough for me.”

**first year as cadets**

Eren watched Mikasa and Reiner spar in preparation for the hand combat exam. From first glance, onlookers would expect that tall and muscular Reiner would easily win; when in reality, Reiner worked twice as hard to dodge the fast and powerful Mikasa, to figure out where she’s going to strike next.

He was watching her form, looking at the way her arms were positioned in her offense, when he noticed the buttons on her shirt starting to pull. Her shirt was too small now that she’d grown from training.

“Reiner!” Eren shouted, which caused the boy to turn around and fail to avoid Mikasa’s punch, knocking him to the ground from the surprise attack.

“Eren!” Reiner shouted angrily from the ground, slamming his fist against the hard dirt, “This is your fault!”

Eren ran over to Mikasa, holding her jacket in his hand, stepping over Reiner. “Mikasa, come with me,” he suggested, putting her jacket over her shoulders and starting towards the dorms.

“Is something wrong?” she asked when they finally were inside, nobody else visibile.

Eren dug through the wooden drawers under his bed for a larger buttoned shirt. “Your shirt is too small. It’ll restrict your movement,” he stated, standing back up with multiple white shirts in his hand, “That could be dangerous in a dire situation.” He held up the shirts.

She hesitantly took them from him. “Don’t… Don’t you need these too?”

He shrugged and blushed lightly. “I have plenty… And I’ll give you more if you need them.”

**day of regiment selection**

“Eren?”

Eren heard her calling his name, but stayed silent as he sat on a rock near the lake. He couldn’t bring himself to speak without memories and tears flooding in. “Eren?”

Mikasa asked again before emerging from the woods to the left of him, spotting him almost immediately. “Eren!” she shouted again as she ran over, collapsing to her knees in front of him.

He looked at her, at the growing morning light reflecting on her skin. He was cold from having forgotten a jacket, but her arrival made him warm.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking up at him with anxious, caring eyes, “I noticed you weren’t in your bed for a while. I thought maybe you’d gone for a walk, so…”

“Thank you for coming here,” he uttered quietly, leaning back and spreading his legs wider.

She smiled more to herself and moved to sit next to him. Mikasa said nothing, just enjoyed his presence.

“Mikasa, you should join the military police,” he spoke strongly, with more weight behind his words than he weighed, “you shouldn’t be in the scouts.”

Mikasa nodded along with his words, angling her head slightly so she could see him better. “Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you?” she asked again, staring at him directly this time. The eye contact sent a chill down Eren’s spine, and he smiled at the way she wore the moonlight. “Joining the military police?”

He dropped the eye contact and stared ahead at the lake, leaning his elbows into his thighs.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” He sounded exhausted, determined yet already beaten down by weary trainings. “I have to see the rest of the world. I have to avenge mum. You should—”

“Be with you,” Mikasa interrupted, finishing his sentence for him. He sighed, but she spoke before he could, “You told me everything would be okay as long as we’re together.”

She waited for a reply that never came.

“If you join the military police, I will too. If you join Scouts, then I’m joining too. I… I can’t lose anymore family.”

**first week as scouts**

Eren sat on his assigned bed, near the pillow, watching as Mikasa folded his and her clothes into separate piles at the other end. Armin, Sasha, and Christa sat on their beds around them.

“I heard we’re going on our first expedition soon! Isn’t that exciting?” Christa exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Sasha pulled a chicken drumstick from inside her jacket sleeve. “Celebratory bite!” Sasha shouted, then took a large bite of the meat.

Armin stared at Sasha in awe. “The statistics on returning aren’t… promising,” he added lowly, sadly, “we really shouldn’t get so excited that we become reckless.”

“We will be inside the walls still, so at least we’ll be able to use our gear,” Christa returned, trying to remain optimistic for the upcoming horror.

“But—”

“It’s what we trained for,” Eren interrupted, glaring at the folded clothes, “it’s our duty as soldiers. It’s what we’re dedicating our heart to. It’s—”

Jean scoffed and the door slammed behind him, “He’s on one of his rants again?”

“Shut up, Jean,” Eren muttered, looking down at his clenched fists. He watched Jean walk behind Mikasa, watched and clenched his fist a little tighter when Jean sniffed her hair.

When Mikasa finished folding the clothes, she sat next to Eren on the bed, inspecting the scratches on his arms he’d acquired from failing the balance tests.

Eren smiled at the warm tickle under her touch, a lingering familiarity that settled deeply in his brain. He wished he could ask his mum about the feeling.

“You should be all set,” she said and smiled, “I think you’ll be able to do it tomorrow.”

**mikasa gets sent on a dangerous mission**

“Jean, Reiner, Connie: you three will be responsible as outer watch,” Erwin dictated, pointing with a stick to the squad formation for this next mission, “Bertoldt and Armin will make up the rear guard.”

Hange stepped forward. “Since our primary goals are to capture titans and avoid causalities,” they started, glancing around the thinning Scout regiment, “Mikasa, you’ll be our sole bait. Levi will render it immobile and the rest of my squad will capture it.”

Mikasa nodded affirmatively. Eren stared at her with his eyes wide and mouth agape, moving to look at Armin, whose face had fallen solemnly.

“What about me?” Eren stood up abruptly, eyebrows furrowed in thought and alternating his gaze between Hange, Levi, and Erwin, “I can lure them too. They love my titan form, and I can atta—”

About half the rook rolled their eyes or slumped in their chair at his outburst. “Sit down,” Levi commanded, glaring at Eren, “We’ll speak later.”

The meeting concluded and everyone but Eren and Levi filed out of the room. Levi walked up to him, slapped his fist against Eren’s chest, ordered, “You’ll be cleaning the barracks,” in a huff and exited the room.

“What’s wrong, Eren?” Armin asked when they were at the dining hall later, just the two of them. Other soldiers from various regiments sat at the surrounding tables, and while Eren occasionally received whispers and glances and glares, they paid them no mind.

Eren sighed in frustration, a hearty breath disturbing the soup, and slumped slightly. “I’m irritated I’m not on the mission,” he answered, clenching a fist near his thigh, “again.”

“It’s for the best,” Armin urged, “We can’t have our best weapon being used as bait. And we can’t risk anything happening to you if it’s not absolutely necessary.”

Eren groaned, “So I have to clean instead?”

They both turned their heads at Connie’s loud laughter. “Haha! So that’s what Captain has you doing instead?”

Jean snickered, “Heh, a nice, clean place to return to after our heroic, dangerous miss—”

“Fuck you,” Eren spat, ignoring Jean’s beady eye contact, swatting at the air like there was a bug.

Mikasa sat next to Armin, across from Eren, and he spent most of the rest of the conversation wondering what to say to her, if he should say anything at all. If this were to be the last dinner together, then…

They all had left the dining hall together, heading back to the Scout barracks early to prepare for the big voyage tomorrow. Eren fell out of pace, fell to the back of the group.

“Uh, Mikasa,” Eren expressed shyly, stepping back and turning to the side to imply that he wanted her to follow him elsewhere.

She turned around, silently understanding and nodding, heading off with him without another word to the group.

She obediently followed him to a small clearing between a few trees, granted invisibility from the rest by shadows and dusk.

“I,” Eren started hesitantly, regretting having not thought of what to say beforehand, his hand fisted, “I’m not going on the mission, so…”

Mikasa stared at him quietly as he trailed off, willing to wait all night if he needed the time.

“So…” He met her gaze, tears threatening to line both of their eyes. He swallowed, raising his hand to take hers. “Please come home.”

**after discovery of the ocean**

The younger scouts all snuck away from camp one night, running off with the new map in the direction of the tiny rocks and wet sky.

Mikasa and Eren watched from the beach as everyone else discarded shoes and clothing and ran into the water, crying joyfully and screaming vibrantly—a welcome contrast to the past.

The moon was almost near the center of the sky when Eren stood up and offered a hand to Mikasa. “Should we…” He stared off at the ocean, smiling peacefully as he stared at the glistening landscape, at the stars in the sky.

He looked back at her when she placed her hand in his and stood up, smiling. Neither of them moved.

“Do you remember,” he started softly, so quietly that Mikasa’s ears tuned out all background noise just to focus on his voice. Tears lined his eyes and he choked on the lump in his throat, “when my mum would kiss us goodbye?”

A tear slid down his cheek at the mention of Carla, of a fond memory of her instead of…

Mikasa’s free hand twitched like it threatened to wipe the droplet away. Eren let it slide to his jaw.

“Remember when… my dad would come home,” he took a shaky breath, “and my mum would kiss him too?”

She nodded, still fighting back the tears. The pink blush on Eren’s face was making Mikasa blush too.

He smiled. “I used to wonder which way I was supposed to…” His blush deepened slightly as he paused briefly before coyly continuing, “…kiss you, but… I think I…”

“Hey, you two! Get your sorry asses over here!” The voice sent shivers down their spines and their hands dropped. They looked over at the source to find Levi and a few more soldiers standing angrily. “Where’s everyone else?”

**during Paradis-Country negotiations**

Unearthing the Founder’s powers came at a heavy mental and physical toll, and sometimes Eren refused to leave his room. Which wasn’t always a solution, because being alone meant exploring his mind, exploring memories and futures that he couldn’t place, of people he couldn’t name.

“Eren, how are you feeling?” Mikasa asked softly through the door after knocking. “I brought you some soup. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind the company for the day.”

Eren debated not opening the door, but he determined her company was better than anyone else’s, his own included. He opened the door and walked away, right back to bed.

Mikasa entered and closed the door, placed the food on the table, and followed him to his bed. She sighed when she saw the morose sight of Eren collapsed in bed, the blankets pulled over his head.

Mikasa sat at the foot of the bed, her hands in her lap. “Eren?” she asked, and she saw him shuffling under the blankets in response, “Remember when I used to have those nightmares?”

His head poked out near the pillow. “Yes,” he answered, nodding simultaneously.

“Are you having nightmares now, Eren?” she asked as a follow-up, shifting closer to the top of the bed.

He paused. “Yes,” he answered again, nodding only once, and looked up at her.

There was no need to speak any further. They shared a short, knowing look, the type of telepathic conversation that comes from collected experience and shared loss.

Mikasa sat upright and Eren moved the blanket, shifting over slightly to provide a clear space for Mikasa to lay. She did, and she delicately draped her arm around Eren’s shoulders, letting his head rest between her shoulder and breast.

He settled into her side, wrapping one arm around her waist and pulling her ever so closer, snuggling ever so deeper into her neck. Her scent and touch were so familiar, calming.

“It’ll be okay, Eren,” she whispered into his hair, using her hand to move a couple strands, “nothing can happen to us when we’re together.”

**during their visit to Marley**

Eren stared at her mouth while she licked at the ice cream cone, unable to take his eyes off her lips. A little stream of melted cream started to melt down her chin and he immediately reached his thumb out, wiping it away.

Mikasa blushed, avoiding Eren’s gaze. But he kept his hand on her jaw.

“You should try some,” she offered to change the subject, to remove his hot attention from her, and tilted the cone towards him.

“Okay,” he mumbled without moving, without taking his palm away. Instead, he rested it further on her jaw, cupping her cheek lightly and leaning down.

It was light. Barely even a light tap. The kiss felt like a buoyant feather floating in water, a tingling sensation remaining on excited nerves, cells reaching out for more. As fast as his lips had tapped hers, he’d pulled away.

“I don’t think I taste it,” Eren whispered, staring at her shiny eyes and red cheeks and pink lips.

Mikasa airily gasped. “Ma-maybe we should try again. For longer this time, so that you can really—”

**first reunion in Marley after eren left**

“Mikasa…” Eren gasped when he saw her, the woman he’d been dreaming of since he’d left, the woman he desperately wanted to return home to.

She stood in front of him, the black uniform suiting her frame so nicely. His heart beat faster than it had in a long time, and he lamented his haggard appearance before her.

She looked the same as in his dreams—better, even. The moon kissed her so beautifully, and he thought back to the last time they were together in Marley; his heart beating faster.

He wondered if he opened his arms if she’d embrace him back, the way he so heavily craved these lost years.

“Eren!” His name came out of her mouth in a half-sob, and she ran to him, practically jumping onto him. She held him close, and he reciprocated, holding her tighter than he’d ever held anyone, the way he’d relished in paths. She mumbled against his chest, her tears dampening his shirt. “Please come home.”

**at the cabin in paths**

A white cat rubbed against Mikasa’s swollen ankle as she sat back in the chair, whistling and rubbing her growing belly as she watched her husband chop wood out the window.

Mikasa sighed and picked up the cat, who purred loudly and snuggled his head into her belly. She smiled in adoration and let the cat settle on her lap.

She must’ve fallen asleep because she woke up with Eren knelt in front of her, his hand caressing her thigh.

“Nice nap, my loves?” he asked tenderly, glancing down at her belly before returning her gaze.

She blushed and smiled, rubbing her hands up and down her sides. “Yes, I think so. Woodchopping okay?” Mikasa placed one hand over Eren’s on her thigh.

He started the stand up, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Yes, we should have plenty for a while. I found a waterfall, though. Maybe we should take a trip when,” he placed a hand protectively over the baby bump, “he’s out.” He winked. “Make another.”

Mikasa giggled and blushed, initially pushing his hands away in shyness before pulling them back. She nodded.

He helped her stand up, placed a hand on her lower back as the other held hers. He let his hand rest on her lower back and brought his other one to the long strands of hair near her face.

“You don’t have to help me, you know,” she urged for the hundredth time, “I’m pregnant, not incapable.”

“I know,” Eren responded, smiling, “but I like to.” She blushed, kissed him, then walked by to grab water.

Eren stared at her as she walked away, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he watched his pregnant wife move around their house. He smiled in the knowledge that, at least here, she was his to tend to, his to care for.

His to love.

#eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x mikasa #eren and mikasa #eremika #eremika love #aot eremika #eremika fic #eremika fanfic #jjkeremika #snk eremika #aot #snk #mikasa ackerman #eremika thought cabin

[maxislvt]

Low Blows

Summary: After what happened between you and Carol, Wanda makes a plan to help you cheer up. Though she denies

Warnings: Smut, vaginal fingering, shitty relationships, sorry to the vision enjoyers

A/N: I'm very sorry to those who were interested in this series only to watch it flop and die in the span of a month! I do plan to release the next chapter either towards the end of March or early next month! Hopefully I won't be dog tired and then forget again

Series Masterlist

Wanda had always been bad at hiding things from people. Her parents had raised her to be as honest as she possibly could be. That meant if she did have to lie Pietro was always the one covering for her, but now Pietro was back home in New York City playing PaRappa The Rapper and trying to beatbox for his YouTube subscribers. Never would Wanda have thought that the absence of her brother would lead to her getting into almost cartoonish levels of trouble.

A heavy sigh fell from her lips as she sat down in the confession chair. The last time she was here they asked her how she felt about Carol after the situation with the shack of secrets. Now they were expecting her to explain her recent purchases and the huge box of beach toys. 

"I just want to get Y/N out of the house for a few hours…" The confidence in her plan dwindled as the crew raised their eyebrows in suspicion. "Okay fine, an hour…at least a few minutes! I just don't want them to sit there and rot away in their sadness. That's just not them." Wanda pulled out a bag of sand molds and grinned. "I found this set of molds at the store yesterday. They were overpriced, but they had this cute little zebra one so I couldn't pass it up!" 

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

The house had been pretty tense after what happened between you and Carol. Everyone avoided Carol like the plague and almost all attempts to get you out of the bed and back into the real world failed. Not even Monica and Mr. Strips could get out into the light. 

Wanda had originally discouraged any attempts to force you to talk about what happened in the Shack of Secrets. You needed space and the others had to learn to respect that. So Wanda decided to take up your chores and cook for everyone while you come to terms with everything. It wasn't easy, but your comfort was more important to her 

But when days turned into nearly a week, Wanda had no choice but to intervene. With a little help from Monica, she hatched a plan. First, she needed to make breakfast. blueberry jelly and marshmallow fluff toast with bananas for a face, a bowl of fruit, sausage, eggs, and pancakes. She made a little extra with the hope that you'd share, or at least make up for the lack of a full meal. 

Wanda knocked on your bedroom door. "Hey, buttercup. I know you're not feeling all that well but I made you breakfast." She leaned against the door. "We don't have to talk about…that, but I just wanna check in on you." A frustrated groan could be heard from the other side of the door. For a moment, she considered giving up and going back downstairs. "Okay. How about if I can guess what you're wearing, you have to let me in and eat breakfast." 

You frowned. That was such an odd bet to make, but it softened your heart a bit to see that she was trying. "Okay, but you're probably gonna get it wrong." You snuggled into the bed. Another sad nap waiting for you at the end of the conversation.

"Is it my off-white and purple NYU hoodie and the black Van Cortlandt shorts you swore were tacky and overpriced?" 

You let out a defeated groan and got up to open the door. "You're such a cheater," You grumbled before grabbing one of the plates one had balanced in her arm. "How'd you even get this up here without spilling?" With your free hand, you moved the comforter over so you could eat without getting crumbs and jelly on it.  

Since you were too busy crying and wallowing in regret, your room had become a mess. Dirty clothes and clean laundry just sat in piles with nothing to tell them apart, your incense holder had gone uncleaned and unused, and your bedside trash can was nearly overflowing with snack wrappers and tissues. 

"And you're a clothes thief," Wanda said affectionately before kissing your cheek. She sat the remaining plates down on the bed and then snuggled up beside you. "I just took a bunch of extra slow steps, I spent like three minutes getting upstairs. " She excitedly grabbed the toast off the plate and presented it to you. "Look, I made Mr. Strips! He's so cute. " 

You leaned forward and let Wanda feed you. It wasn't until you finished chewing the piece that you realized what had happened. Wanda didn't give you a chance to apologize. She forced you to take another bite before you could say anything. "Oh, is this blueberry jam? I love that stuff!" 

Wanda affectionately wiped the corners of your mouth before kissing your cheek. "I was gonna take all the credit for it, but Monica did help me figure out some of the stuff you liked." Wanda continued to feed you. She found more pride in it than she expected. The last few times Wanda had seen you, you just looked miserable. She hated it. Now, you were relaxed and happy again. Wanda would do anything to protect that happiness.  

Once you finished eating, Wanda stacked the plates on your nightstand. "Hey, I found a really nice spot on the beach the other day and I was wondering if you'd like to go." Her smile faded as your face began to shift into one of uncertainty. One of her hands reached out to hold one of yours. It felt right. Your skin was soft like it was made for her to spend hours kissing. Wanda probably would if you let her. "I just want you to get out…an hour?" 

"Fifteen minutes." 

"Forty-five minutes from the second we get there."

"I'll do thirty minutes from the second we leave the house." 

"Fifty-five and I get to make dinner just for us."

You let out a defeated sigh. Arguing with Wanda was impossible. "Fine, an hour but you're not cooking dinner…That's still my job."

Wanda let out an uncertain hum before kissing your cheek. "We'll see how our date goes. Now shower up and put on that swimsuit, make sure it's the cute little Cabana set with the flowers on it. You look cute in it." She gave you a playful spank on the butt before collecting the plates and silverware. 

A blush spread across your face. Being the center of Wanda's attention felt so good. She always knew just how to make you. "Wait, what do you mean 'We'll see'? Come here!" You turned around to face Wanda, but she had already left your room and made her way downstairs. Even though you were apprehensive about facing everyone again, the idea of Wanda worrying about you made your heart melt. You wondered what she had planned for you. 

While you were waiting, someone knocked at your door. 

It was Carol. Her mere presence made you uncomfortable. She stood tall and commanding. A couple of months ago, you would've found it attractive. Now it just made you dread whatever she was about to say. Carol raised her eyebrows expectantly and sighed when you did little to acknowledge her. Then she sighed. She made you feel ashamed without even saying a word. "Look-"

"Are you ready to go, baby?" Wanda asked just before Carol could finish speaking. She extended her hand out for you to hold. Wanda could feel the daggers Carol was staring into her soul, but they meant nothing. All Wanda cared about was you and your happiness. A smile brighter than a thousand suns spread across her face as you slowly stepped forward and grabbed her hand. "You look so handsome in your little sweet swimsuit," Wanda cooed as she guided you down the stairs. 

You giggled. "You told me to wear it." Neither her proud smirk nor possessive grip was lost on you. Jealousy and possessiveness usually weren't things you enjoyed. But you were more than willing to make an exception for Wanda. 

"Well, you're adorably obedient for wearing it," Wanda whispered before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "Now come on, I spent all this money on beach toys and we have to use them at least once." The walk to the beach was quick. Wanda wasn't going to risk anyone else intervening in your adventure. She whisked you out the door and down the shore without any interruptions. 

After a couple of minutes, Wanda brought you to a cave with nothing but a blanket and another basket. 

"Is this some crime of passion set up? If so, this isn't the best place to do it!"

Wanda simply rolled her eyes and pushed you towards the blanket. "Monica was right. You do read too many murder mysteries. Go play!" She sat down next to you and began pulling out the little molds, shovels, and buckets she bought earlier. "I got one of Mr.Strips!" She placed the tiny sand mold into your hands and smiled. "I wrote your name on it so no one can steal it." 

You smiled and gave the mold a small kiss. "Well, I'll make sure to take good care of it." 

The rest of the date was spent in comfortable silence. Wanda would walk back and forth between the cave and the shore with buckets full of water so you could build your castle without worry. When the buckets weren't sandy and in need of a refill. Eventually, your sandcastle had gotten too complicated for Wanda to help so she decided to sit back and watch you build instead. And when you finished your castle, you snuggled up next to her.

"I'm proud of you. It's not always easy doing what's best for yourself," She whispered. 

"Are you proud of me for prioritizing myself or are you just happy you're the better option?" You giggled. 

"I don't think those things contradict each other." 

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

"I don't even really like Zebras all that much," You confessed the very second the cameras started rolling. "I only keep Mr. Strips because Monica bought him for me as an apology for our kindergarten divorce." You jiggled the bracelet on your wrist and showed it to the crew. "This is like the ninth piece of zebra-related jewelry she's given me and I don't have the guts to tell her…Anyway, what were you guys gonna ask me?"

"So, how was the date?"

"It was nice, but I don't think it was a date. I mean I would've loved for it to be one, but I don't wanna put any labels on anything!" For the sake of the footage, you opted not to say anything about the knowing looks the crew shared. "Okay fine! I like Wanda a lot but I'm too shy to make any moves…I don't wanna scare her off." You slouched in your arms like a petulant child. "I just don't wanna rush anything..leave me alone."

≈≈≈≈≈≈≈≈

If you learned anything from being on a reality TV show in the past few weeks, it's that time moves fast. One day, Maria and Natasha were getting close again then the next they didn't even want to be in the same room as each other. Time moved even faster when you weren't directly involved with whatever drama plagued the house for the day. You were known to break up fights or stand up for some of the more soft-spoken cast members, but most of the issues in the house seemed to be above you. There were even times when you slept through the introductions of new people. 

"Why do you care so much? You're more in love with them than you ever were with me!" 

This is to say you had no idea what Vision and Wanda were arguing about. They had been called down to that dreaded shack, that much you could figure out.

"I care because I wasted two years of my life with you! I don't love you know but I'm allowed to be upset that I wasted time with some half-assed loser that got with me over a dare!" 

Oh. Okay, things were much worse than you thought. 

"Okay," You shouted to silence both of them. "Why don't you two go to your rooms for a bit before talking about this? That stupid shack is designed to piss you off and start drama, just take a break!" 

Wanda took a deep breath. Her expectations for her ex were already in the dirt. Why was she shocked Vision had disappointed her yet again? "You're right. I'm not letting myself get worked up over this anymore. I'm going to my room." Before you could praise her maturity, she grabbed your hand and led you up the stairs. 

Had you been thinking with your brain, you would've voiced your concerns about leaving Vision alone when he was just as upset as Wanda. But since you were thinking with your heart, you didn't bother looking back to check if he was okay. Your heart only cared about Wanda. It soared when you were tossed into the bed and Wanda possessively snuggled into you. "Baby, what…what happened?" 

She huffed out and buried her face into your neck "Don't worry about it, alright? Let's just forget about him for a sec." Wanda littered kisses along the side of your neck. They continued upwards until she reached your jaw, then she started leaving heavier marks. "Where's my needy little baby, hm? It's been so long since I've touched you, I bet you're just aching for me to touch you." When she finally graces your lips with a kiss, it was greedy. Her tongue slipped into your mouth and stole your breath without a second thought. Wanda didn't let up until the both of you were in desperate need of air. 

And despite the buzzing underneath your skin and throbbing between your legs, you were still worried about Wanda. You put your hand on Wanda's chest to stop her from distracting you again. "I- You…you gotta talk stuff out first," You stuttered out. You rubbed your thighs together to ease the heat, but Wanda was quick to spread them apart. 

Your desperate whining was music to Wanda's ears. "You heard it already. Now, why don't you lay back and let me fuck you?" Her frustration was starting to slip through the cracks. She squeezed your thighs, but they didn't move an inch before getting your permission. "I bet you're so wet and just waiting for me to stretch your little hole out." 

You were trying so hard to focus. But that's hard to do with Wanda staring down at you like you were fresh meat. "Would it make you feel better?" You asked with a meek voice. Your body was on fire and Wanda was making it worse. 

"Only if you tell me how much you want it first," She whispered as her fingers lightly rubbed your cunt through the cloth of your shorts. "Don't be shy, baby, no one can hear it but me." She laughed at your shyness. You were too cute not to tease.

You laughed back nervously. "You're joking, right?" Wanda only raised her eyebrows. You'd never been in this position before. Forced to beg and follow someone else's orders. "Please don't be mean," You whispered. For that, Wanda only began rubbing your cunt. It wasn't even close to enough with your clothes in the way, especially considering your clit remained neglected.

"Oh, I know you can do better than that." Her thumb pressed down harder, but only for a second. Wanda could almost feel your slick seeping through your underwear. "It's no fun denying yourself. Just tell me what you want and I'll give it to you." Her free hand slid up your thigh and began unbuttoning your shirt. "You're just so desperate for me, but I can't help my baby if they don't talk to me." 

You could only whine as Wanda's fingers continued to tease every part of your body. "Touch me please," You whispered.

"But I'm already touching you, baby." 

It was embarrassing. How could Wanda be so cruel to you? After all, you've given her.  You've been nothing but kind to her and yet she repaid you by shattering your pride. "Fuck me, please. I need you so bad!" The worst part was that you enjoyed her cruelty. By the time Wanda had stripped you of all your clothes, your slick had leaked onto the bed. "Please, please, I need you so bad."

"Awe, baby you're a mess." One of her fingers began rubbing tight circles around your clit. Your desperate whimpers and moans were like music to her ears. "That's what I like to hear. You sound so cute." Wanda began sucking on your nipple just as one of her fingers slid inside of cunt. "Oh, and you're just so tight. I bet you've never been fucked right, huh?" 

You shook your head without a second thought. Pleasure had taken over your senses. "More!" and "Please!"  were the only words you could say. Each thrust of Wanda's fingers pushed you further and further into a sea of bliss.

"God if I knew I was gonna fuck you, I would've brought my strap with me." 

The thought of something more than Wanda's fingers was so overwhelming it made you whine. 

Wanda curled her fingers as they rubbed against your g spot. "Don't worry, baby. Once this stupid little show is over I'll take you home and fuck you right." She buried her face in your neck and began leaving soft kisses over the heavy marks she'd left earlier. "I have this big one- oh you'd just love it! It'd stretch out that hole and fill you up with cum. Doesn't that sound fun?"

It sounded fun, but your body answered before your brain could. Your walls fluttered around Wanda's long fingers. Cum leaked out of your hole like a fountain and Wanda was quick to lick it up.  Her fingers and tongue worked in sync  to drag out your orgasm as long as she possibly could. "No, no more," You whimpered, desperately trying to push Wanda's head away. 

Wanda kissed your thigh then rolled over to lay next to you on her bed. She watched as you struggled to catch your breath. "Think you could give me one more?" She asked as she played with the strands of your hair. 

The offer was tempting, but you'd never recover if you let Wanda have her way. "Um, I think we'll have to work up to multiple rounds. I think I'm all fucked out for the night." You buried your head into one of Wanda's pillows and watched as she got off of the bed. "Noo, stay, please? I can take a shower later." 

"Fine, but if you wait too long I'm turning this into a bubble bath." Wanda laid back down. She pulled you closer so your head was properly buried into her chest. Her fingers toyed with the  hair at the base of your neck as you two began to relax and let go of the sexual energy. 

"...what happened in the shack?"

Wanda let out a heavy sigh. "You're really bad pillow talk, you know that?" She ruffled your hair and looked down at you. "Do you want to know that bad?" Denying you was hard already, but when you looked up with the softest eyes she'd ever seen, saying no was impossible. "It's not that I don't wanna talk about it, I just don't want you to think I still have feelings for him or something like that." 

"You dragged me upstairs and fucked me instead of talking things out with him, I know you don't have feelings for him anymore." You leaned away from Wanda's chest. "I'm much more worried about you bottling up all those nasty feelings in here," You said, poking Wanda's chest to accent your point. "Just say whatever is on your mind, I'm all ears."

"It's just…god, every time I give that fucker a chance he turns around and steps all over me! We broke up and got back together three times before I stopped forgiving him. You think he would've said something between that and just ripped the band-aid off instead of letting some stupid reality show find out first!" Wanda continued to ramble. The minutes continued to tick by but she just couldn't stop herself. Maybe she'd pause for a few minutes because she couldn't figure out how to put her frustrations into words, but you were always there to help her. 

Eventually, Wanda had nothing else to say. Her anger fizzled out into slow acceptance 

She let out a heavy breath before nuzzling back into the side of your neck. "Thank you," She mumbled exhaustedly. Wanda, never one to miss the chance to praise you, began smothering your face with kisses once again. "Ah, you're just the cutest aren't you? Always making me so sappy and mushy!"

You whined playfully and pushed her away. "Maybe you're just made of mush and full of sap!"

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x you #influencer!wanda

[gennyanydots]

This is an official distress call, over

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x f! Reader

Part of the Spitfire Universe. Can be read as a stand-alone but best enjoyed if you have some background.

Summary: Unca Wooster is having such a great day, especially since his favorite nephew is having an extended sleepover at his house. His girlfriend is even calling him in the middle of the day which she hardly ever does! Such a great day…… oh no.

Bradley was having such a great day.

He made pancakes for breakfast.

He got Eli to school on time.

He got to see his girlfriend for a minute or two at drop off.

He made it to work on time.

He got to fly.

Just such a great day. He’s been loving all of the extra Unca Wooster time he’s been getting in. Jake and his wife wanted to go away for an extended weekend for their anniversary and Bradley was first in line to watch his favorite nephew. He might have thrown some elbows to beat out Coyote but nobody needs to know that. (He’s not sorry)

Penny, Mav, and Amelia have Ellie for the weekend. Mav made sure to pull Bradley aside and let him know that if he needed help with Eli to just let them know.

Pshaw! Why would he need help with Eli? He’s the best kid ever! Bradley still wonders how Hangman could have made such a great kid. Must have been all his wife’s genes because he definitely doesn’t see Jake in the kiddo at all.

Bradley was on his lunch break when he noticed his phone vibrating in his pocket.

A surprise call from his girlfriend! See?! Best day ever!

“Hey baby, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He says as he answers his phone.

“Bradley, what the f word did you do?!?!” His girlfriend scream-whispers to him on the phone.

Huh. He wasn’t expecting that at all. What could he have done? He’s been having the best day ever so clearly it had to be nothing.

“Ummmmmm nothing? What are you talking about? What’s wrong, honey?”

He hears you sigh, “What did you watch last night with Eli?” He can hear some sort of commotion where you are but can’t quite make heads or tails of it. Probably in your classroom, which you shouldn’t be, you should be on your lunch break right now.

Bradley thinks back, they watched a lot of stuff, “Umm Paw Patrol, we watched some Bluey, threw in some Wild Kratts for educational purposes, and then I think Jaws was on when he was falling asleep. I put him to bed once it was over.”

“You let a baby watch Jaws?!?!” You scream-whisper at him again.

“Hey! He’s not a baby! He’s a big boy. He barely watched it. He fell asleep after like 20 minutes.”

“I’m gonna beat your a word. I really am. Is Phoenix there? Let me talk to her.”

“Why the violence, honey? I’m sure he’s fine,” Bradley assumes.

“Oh my sweet naive and dumb boyfriend. You think he’s okay? That’s cute. That’s really cute. Super cute. He’s definitely not clinging to me right now sobbing and telling me he’s never going in the ocean again because he’s going to get ‘eated by the scary gray shark in the water.’ and he definitely isn’t refusing to lay down because what if a shark gets him in his sleep,” you say exasperatedly.

Ohh. Fuck. Shit.

“I shouldn’t have let him watch Jaws,” Bradley said as he hung his head.

“Ya think?! Oh my God. I can’t believe you let him watch that. You’re never getting him to sleep tonight. It was a miracle the rest of the class went down for naps because when one overtired kid cries then they all cry. And they were all asking me why Eli won’t go in the ocean anymore and why sharks are scary.”

Bradley winces. Maybe he could wear him out a little when he picks him up. Let him play for hours at the playground.

He hears his girlfriend sigh then hears a kissing noise that he assumes went onto his nephew’s head. Poor little guy.

“Before you even ask I already told him I would come over and help protect him. He’s clung to me all morning and if his parents aren’t home and it’s just you then he clearly needs a responsible adult.”

“Hey now, I’m a responsible adult,” Bradley grumbles.

“But are you? Because you let him watch Jaws and I don’t think you’re allowed to be in charge of the tv anymore,” you say. He can hear you mumbling something to Eli.

“That’s….. fair. That’s a fair choice. You are in charge of the tv.”

“Okay I gotta go. I’ll see you in a bit. I’m gonna google some shark week stuff that shows sharks NOT eating people to help this little boy out.”

“Okay I’ll see you in a bit. Bye honey. Tell Eli I love him and that I would never let anything happen to him,” Bradley said with a sigh.

“You got it. Bye Bradley,” you say before the call disconnects.

Bradley runs a hand down his face.

“Why so glum?” A voice asks, walking up from behind him.

“I did something stupid,” Bradley explains while he turns to look at Phoenix.

Phoenix laughs, “What else is new? So what’d you do?”

“I traumatized Eli.”

Phoenix smacks Bradley’s arm, “Why the hell would you do that?! That poor sweet boy!”

Bradley pulls his arm closer to him then rubs it, “Ow! Don’t hit me!”

Phoenix leers at Bradley, “Don’t do stupid things. What. Did. You. Do?”

Bradley sighs, “I let Eli watch a little bit of Jaws last night and now he’s terrified of the ocean and won’t nap because he’s scared a shark is going to get him in his sleep. Don’t worry, I already got yelled at over it.”

Phoenix gasps, “You should lose custody. Like immediately. No more Eli for you.”

“My girlfriend said she’s coming over tonight because Eli needs a responsible adult,” Bradley explains.

Phoenix laughs, “Only you would get yelled at and then essentially grounded by your girlfriend.”

“Jake’s wife grounds us all, all the time.”

Phoenix shakes her head and points at Bradley, “No, she grounds you all. She’s never grounded me. I don’t do stupid stuff like this.”

Bradley grumbles.

“Well let me know if your girlfriend can’t stay the whole weekend and Eli needs a different responsible adult. I’m happy to help,” Phoenix smirks at Bradley.

“I got him. I won’t do something like this again. Promise.”

“Suuuuuure ya do,” Phoenix says as she shakes her head at Bradley.

When Bradley went to pick Eli up that afternoon Eli raced into Bradley’s arms, scrambling to get picked up.

“Woah buddy! Slow down! I got ya,” Bradley says as he scoops Eli up to gently set him on his hip.

“I can’t be down, Unca Wooster, I can’t!” Eli said as he hid his face against Bradley’s chest.

It was then that it hit Bradley just how bad he messed up. Poor kiddo. He felt so bad.

He watched as you walked over to the two of them holding Eli’s backpack, “He can’t be down, Unca Wooster, he can’t.” You shook your head as you handed Bradley Eli’s backpack.

Bradley holds Eli close as he leans to speak to you, “I’m gonna fix this.”

You shake your head, “No, I AM going to fix this. Don’t worry. I got a plan. You’re taking us to the aquarium tomorrow by the way. I’ll see you in a bit.” You wink at Bradley as you walk back towards the rest of your students.

Bradley sure hopes you have a plan because he sure as hell doesn’t.

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #rooster x f!reader #spitfire universe

[lizaawinchester]

promise me, you wont decide for me

Title: you need to promise me

Word count: 1442

Description: After living with the boys for years and having a non official relationship with dean you finally decide to bring it up. His need to protect you has always stopped you from titling what it was you had together but after an easy hunt just you two and Miracle in your hometown the nostalgia reminds you of how much you want to be able to make your love for him public. but first he has to promise never to push you away just because he thinks you're better off without him (Post Chuck; (dean never died in my head)

tw- none

You were tired of leaving his bed after an amazing couple of hours together, sometimes only talking and watching movies, sometimes steamy sex only to sleep in a cold bed alone 2 rooms down. In a tired haze you wondered what he was thinking as you both fell asleep sharing an old creaky bed with the awful tv playing a random movie.

There were never any set rules with your arrangement but you never really talked about it. Just living together with Sam in the bunker meant that you had practically already been a couple. Everyone knew the feelings were mutual but it was never discussed. Small I love you’s were said occasionally and you two would cuddle up in private. Sharing your favorite movies and talking about everything from your wildly different childhoods to your worst memories. Eventually you started hooking up and that lead to where you were now. Alone together in your home state in nostalgic town for you. This area was memorable for you as a kid and when you saw that there was likely a Vamps nest nearby you had to come and get rid of it. After finishing late at night you and Dean decided to just keep the room an extra night to let Sam and Eileen have the bunker to themselves for one more day. You had come here with your family and made your best in this little town before your parents were possessed and killed by angels. Even in the freezing cold of February you remembered the good parts of having a somewhat normal childhood here and getting into hunting later in life, unlike the Winchester brothers.

That night you asked Dean if he was open to the idea of making it official, being back home made you remember the love you had always wished for and practically already had but were too afraid to admit. In his half asleep voice he admitted "I wish you were mine from the second I wake up to the second I fall asleep." before falling asleep with you in his arms.  Slowly, knowing that his tired self was not up for much of a conversation you fell asleep too, thinking of how to possibly bring this up again on the long drive home tomorrow.

The next morning.

Taking miracle out to run around before your long drive back to the bunker you decided to get it out of the way hoping he even remembered the conversation from his half-asleep state

Staring at the rocky pathway you practically whispered, “So about what you said last night, did you really mean that”

D “of course." he said surprised you would even ask. "I mean I am ok with this sort of together but not really officially thing, but I mean it when I say I love you and I would rather have you officially be mine than be friends who have and are aware of their feelings”

“If were going to do this you need to promise me something.”

“Ok… “

“I make my own decisions for myself. I know what is best for me and you cant try and decide that”

“ok… I know that you can make your own choices. Where are you going with this”

“I need to know that one day when you are feeling shitty or when I am pissed off by something you’re not going to tell me to leave. If you ever tell me to go because you are bad for me, I will not come back”

“wait so you want me to promise that I will never end it, because I never plan on telling you to leave.”

“No. I am saying that you can never, I mean ever, try to tell me that I am better off without you or I deserve better than you. I deserve what I want and someone who loves me enough to see that. With jack in charge we control our own lives and that includes me too. I know you don’t see yourself the way that I do but I know that there is no one out there better for me.”

“Y/n.. ”

“No let me finish. If I thought you would do anything that would hurt me, I would not be here, living with you and sam. You are the kindest and most loving person I know. You let me sleep in your bed after having a panic attack and you make me feel safe. You are definitely the best sex I have I ever had plus you let me take all of the covers and because you know I get cold at night. You are the best person I could ever find for me and  If I thought that you were not what was best for me I would leave on my own.”

“what if I am not what is best for you”

 “then we should not be together at all. But that’s just it you are.

You stopped your walk grabbing his arm to turn him to look at you. “I need you to see that I want you and all of you. The good and the bad because if you want to be with me you have to love all of me the good and the bad.”

“I don’t think there is any bad”

“Then youre lying to yourself… or you don’t really know me” He practically glared at you as you said it.

“ Cmon you cant say that. I know you better than anyone, even sam. And I do love you, all of you”

“ok then if you love me you cannot wake up one day and decide that you think I deserve ‘better’ or deserve more. I don’t want to have ‘normal life’, especially not if it means I can’t have you. Living like this sucks sometimes but so does every life and I don’t want to leave the bad parts because it would mean leaving all of the good parts too.”

“ok I think I get what you mean. You’re really mean when you’re hungry but I wouldn’t change it because when I start making burgers you come up and hug me from behind”

A small laugh fell as you smiled up to him. Picking up the tennis ball Miracle dropped at your feet. You turned to throw it before looking back at him and said,

“So I need you to promise me that you will not make that choice FOR ME. You will not try to tell me that you are bad for me or I should leave because you think I would be better off. I would have asked months ago but you always try to protect me from everything and I will not lose you because one day you decide you need to protect me from you.”

 You looked at each other for a long second as the wind blew by your face. Your ears stung as the sharp air got under your hair and you shrugged your shoulders for the large coat to cover you.

“if you are ever going to end it, it will be because you want to, not because you are trying to protect me from something”

He looked down to you, and you squinted up blocking the sun coming from behind his head. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you in to his warmth, blocking out the wind for a moment of relief to the cold. You looked up and locked eyes as you held your arms to your chest protectively, unsure what he would say next.

“I promise you that I will never try to end this for your benefit. I will let you decide what is best for you. But I cannot promise that I will not protect you because hat I will always do.”

He pulled you in closer moving his arms up your back to pull your head into his chest and kiss the top of your head. Staying comfortably there for a second as you both lightly swayed with his heart beat. Letting go only when Miracle jumped on his knee and released you back to the cold to lean down and throw the ball to the water. Grabbing your hand walking along back to baby.

“I mean if you get tired of me or my hunger mood swings and that’s why you want me gone, I would understand”

“ok so I can break up with you, but only if you really piss me off.” Dean said sarcastically as he turned to meet your eyes already looking to him

“yeah and If you tell me to leave because you have decided its what its ‘best for me’” you said using your one hand for air quotes, “then I will chop off your head with a machete. I’ve beheaded plenty of monsters, you know I can do it”

 He smiled, laughing at your dark humor before switching from holding your hand to wrapping an arm around your shoulders “ok I promise I won’t tell you what’s best for you”

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester imagines #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester imagine #dean!girl #dean x reader #spn #spnfandom #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #dean winchester one shot #dean x female reader

[moonswolfie]

BONUS: What happened to Bokuto

This fic won't really make sense unless you read the parent work

HERE

so go do that first before reading this

"I'm super sorry... Boss is saying I need to stay. Please take care of the kids for a little longer."

"It's okay... Really, it is!" Bokuto assured you, saying his goodbyes and hanging up the phone.

He turned back to his kids with a blank expression. "Guess what."

"What?" The kids asked in unison.

"We have two extra hours to play around!" his blank face quickly transformed into an excited smile.

Excited "yayyy"s were heard from all three as they ran back outside to play around.

Time passed quickly as they played various games, joyful laughter echoing throughout the backyard.

"Alright, try receiving this! Remember the pose I taught you." Bokuto served the ball gently.

Sumiko ended up receiving it but it flew off into a weird direction, landing high up in the tall tree in the backyard.

"Ah! I'll go-"

"No. I will go." Bokuto stopped her by pressing a hand to her chest and going to climb the tree himself.

It was time to prove himself as the cool and awesome capable dad.

He climbed with vigor, imagining his kids saying "You're so cool!" "You're the best, dad!"

He grinned happily at that thought, now being high up in the tree. He could almost reach the volleyball. Almost taste victory.

"Just... a little... more..." he stepped on a branch to get closer and his hand grazed the volleyball.

But he failed to realise the branch was too thin to support his weight and he tumbled to the ground with a surprised yelp, the volleyball bouncing to the ground next to him.

"Oh my god, dad, are you okay?!" Kaito ran over to his side.

"I'm.... okay...." he said so, but groaned in pain as he got up, mortified.

"Hahahaha!! Dad fell on his butt!!!" Sumiko laughed wildly, pointing a finger at him, making Bokuto blush even harder.

"H-Hey, it's not funny, at all!!" Bokuto pouted, but it only made Sumiko laugh harder.

How embarrasing....

He walked into the house to cool off, Sumiko's laughter fading behind him, glancing at the clock.

CRAP, it was that time already?! You're gonna come home soon and you're gonna scold him if the kids aren't clean!

"Sumiko, Kaito! Let's go in the shower!" he yelled in a panicked voice.

"No!" they yelled in unison.

"Do you want to be scolded then?" Bokuto asked as if he is immune from being reprimanded by you even though he was quite scared of that fate himself.

"No!" the kids ran past him to the bathroom and he followed them, hastily washing both of them and giving them new clothes after.

"Whew.... I thought I was a gonner..." he mumbled to himself as the kids ran downstairs, all clean and ready to watch TV. You aren't home yet.

He sat down next to them, handing them the remote and groaning in exaustion.

He felt himself heat up in embarrasment at the memory of falling down the tree.

All he wanted to do was look cool... Why must the universe hate him...

His frown was apparent and his hair was deflated, his kids settled in his lap, hugging his waist.

"Dad, you're still dirty! You're gonna get scolded..." Kaito yawned, cuddling up into his side and closing his eyes.

"Oh..." he looked around, wincing when he noticed all the dirt around the house and on him. Seems he didn't notice the mess he made while he was in a panic to get the kids cleaned.

Today was going so well, too...

"Kaito, Sumiko, let's go to... bed." he wanted to get the kids in their rooms so he could atleast attempt to clean the mess, but when he looked down both of the kids were already asleep.

"Oh..." he would normally smile and remark how cute the sight was if he wasn't feeling super sad and embarrased right now.

He himself was getting sleepy, even if it seemed like he has infinite energy to others.

He started nodding off himself, quickly turning off the TV before he falls asleep.

"I really wish you were here..." he whispered, closing his eyes.

Bokuto was a tree climber as a kid and no one can convince me otherwise

#˗ˏˋ ★ ☁︎ 「Wolfie’s works」 ☾ ★ ˎˊ˗ #haikyuu!! #haikyu x reader #haikyū!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #bokuto x y/n #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x you #bokuto x reader #fukurodani #dad bokutoooooo #bokuto koutaro x reader

[barclaysangel]

Guardian Doll (part 2)

Took me a while but I finally finished the second part of this story. I still have barely any idea on where it’s going so I don’t know if I’ll keep updating. But I still wrote something. I think I would like some help on where I can take the story, I wouldn’t mind that at all. But for now, please like or comment if y’all liked this fic please. The character, Cecilia, is based on me when I was younger sooooo she needs some extra love and care. The first part of the story is on my fic archive secondary blog.

Anyways, thank you and enjoy :)

Word count: 1.1K

Tags: @vi0lentg0d @streets-in-paradise (if you want to be tagged later on, let me know!)

The walk home was peaceful. 

Cecilia kept humming Halsey songs under her breath, Tiff the doll safely secured to her hip almost like it was a baby, as she made it to her house. She had to adjust her hold on the doll to pull her keys out of her backpack, unlocked the door, and walked inside. 

There goes her last bit of freedom. 

Her house wasn’t the biggest but it was something. It was just her and her parents that lived there. Well, currently only her father was there, home from work while her mom was still at her job, sitting in front of the tv. 

When her father heard the door open, he turned his head to look at her. “Hey, kid.” 

“Hi daddy.” Cecilia said softly, walking into the living room to further greet him before her father’s eyes landed on the doll tucked under her arm. 

“The fuck is that?” 

“A doll I found by the cemetery,” she replied, smoothing back the blonde strands, “I don’t think she belonged to anyone. She was just left there for who knows how long.” 

“I’m not surprised. The thing’s freaky.” Her father scoffed at it and then turned his attention back to the news on tv. 

Cecilia frowned but went to her room. “Ignore him, muñeca bonita. You’re not freaky at all to me.” She told Tiff before placing her on top of her bed and dropped her backpack to the floor. 

Just like the house, her room wasn’t all that interesting either, rather simple actually. There were no posters hung up because her father didn’t want nails in the walls and her room was rather messy. Half of it was because she was lazy and knew where everything was in the mess, and the other half was a silent way to rebel against her mother wanting her to be more “feminine”. 

Geez. Maybe she really did have issues. 

But that was something Cecilia would worry about another day. Right now, she adjusted the leather jacket on the doll and then sat on her bed, taking her hairbrush and began brushing through Tiff’s blonde hair while seating the doll on her lap. She made sure to be careful with any tangles and knots, not wanting to cause any damage. 

Ever since Cecilia was a kid, she would always play gently with her dolls. She never wanted to break them and would cry if she accidentally did. Overall, she did her very hardest to treat all of her toys and dolls like they were living people. 

Of course, she knew now that they weren’t alive or anything. Yet, she supposed, old habits die hard. 

“You know, I think you’re the most beautiful doll I’ve ever seen, Tiff.” Cecilia spoke, turning the doll around so it was facing her. “Who would leave you out on the cemetery all alone?” She asked out loud but knew she wouldn’t get an answer. 

Instead, she placed the doll down beside her so she could pull out her folder from her backpack. “Want to watch me do my homework?” She placed her hands on Tiff’s head and gently moved it up and down to make it look like it was nodding, giggling. “Okay, you can watch then.” 

So Cecilia spent the next couple hours doing homework, music playing on her phone since it was the only way to help keep her concentrated, alone. Well, not entirely. Tiff might have been a doll but she still liked having the extra company since Cecilia was often so lonely sometimes. 

One of the many downsides to being an only child. She lost count of how many times she prayed for a younger sibling growing up before just completely losing faith. 

Cecilia was solely focused on her homework and showing Tiff her work that she didn’t notice her mother coming home until she was in front of her doorway. 

“What is that?” Was the first thing her mother said, an almost disturbed look on her face as she stared at the doll. 

“Tiff,” Cecilia responded simply, “I found her and she was in great condition, no scratches or anything.” 

“Aye, que fea…” Her mother said with an almost disturbed look on her face. 

Cecilia got an almost offended look on her face by her mother’s statement. “No she’s not!” She insisted, pushing her homework off her lap and replacing it with Tiff. “Look at how green her eyes are. She’s so pretty!” 

Her mother didn’t seem to believe Cecilia, still looking perturbed as she shook her head. “Whatever…” she grumbled before walking away. 

Cecilia sighed loudly, wrapping her arms around Tiff and hugging her. “Well…you’re pretty to me,” she insisted and then turned the doll around to face her, “and badass too.” She giggled and poked the tip of her nose. 

She stayed with her new doll for a while, doing homework until it was time for dinner. That’s when she finally left Tiff unattended, lying her down on her pillow. It had only been for half an hour, half an hour of uncomfortable and boring silence, until Cecilia was free to go back to her room and saw Tiff sitting at the edge of her bed. 

Was that where she left her?

She was sure she did and just shrugged her shoulders, picking up the doll to take her to get ready for bed. Cecilia talked out loud when she was doing this, telling Tiff about her interests and her favorite or least favorite subjects at school. She was sure she was being annoying, blabbing while brushing her hair and then her teeth, but it was nice just talking to someone who wouldn’t tell her to shut up. 

She really was used to being told to shut up for so long. 

Cecilia got into bed and pulled Tiff with her, turning off the light and lying down beside the doll. She was quiet for a moment, turning on her side to face Tiff. “Hey, Tiff. Can I tell you something?” 

The doll, of course, didn’t respond so she continued speaking. “I…don’t have any friends. They just don’t like being around me. They think I’m weird and a freak. Maybe I am. I’m just…really alone, I guess. No friends. No brother or sister. My parents always work and don’t have time for me. It’s just…me. I’m alone.”

Cecilia went quiet, processing her own words. She was completely and utterly alone. 

Eventually she just smiled and shrugged her shoulders so casually. “Eh, whatever. Life sucks and then you die, I guess. But at least I’m not alone now. I’ve got you.” Cecilia smiled sweetly at Tiff and hugged her tightly. 

She must sound so crazy, talking to a doll and acting like she’s real and can hear everything she’s saying. 

Maybe she was going crazy. 

Oh well. 

Cecilia yawned and closed her eyes, keeping her arms around her new favorite doll. “Goodnight, Tiff…”

#luna talks #admin #chucky #chucky 2021 #bride of chucky #tiffany valentine #original character #oc #cecilia carter #chucky fic #guardian doll #chucky fanfic #tiffany the doll

[corantuswriteblog]

Creek Bed

Summary: I started thinking what it would've been like if we had lived in the same town as kids and played together.

-Prose, 761 words

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We never lived in the same town or anything but if we were kids together I would have chased you over the low concrete wall behind my house and down into the creek bed. I know how you sound, I know your ecstatic scream-laugh. As a kid your voice might’ve been higher and more piercing, the endings of all your words softer. As a grown up you’re deep and sharp.

I see this offhand thing you said to me; your white tank top turned inside out to hide the pink butterfly on the front. Your hair cut as close to your ears as your dad would let you. I would’ve watched your bright white disappear in the extra black summer shadow under the sidewalk bridge, and I hope you’d have called after me. Or really ordered me to follow and I would have. 

A few minutes trudging then that flash transformation from wet heat to wet cold, the creek trickle echoing in the dark. Like your damp unwarmed thighs against my ears when you’ve just showered.

We would’ve called each other something different. Pretend names imitating characters from shitty science fiction books I know we both read. 

Now we call one another stuff from stories like lover and girlfriend. Pronouncing our made-real names in every way possible, even the ways that sound wrong and funny so every letter has had a turn on the tips of our tongues like learning to speak.

Walking out from the shadow I would’ve seen you stumble and get mud all over your knees. I’d get so excited because even now I know that’s when the game starts. Your clothes will be muddy no matter what we do and all amounts wash out the same. It’s something for parents to worry about. 

Your shirt and your underwear go from the floor to the hamper really just whenever I step on them and that will be hours from now. The bedsheets will go too in the morning, and we’ll be very grown up deciding who puts them in the washer.

I would have laughed and chased you, and laughed and chased you, all the way down the creek bed. 

I chase you down mouth and neck and chest and belly. Sometimes you let me catch up, sometimes you push me away and smile and snort. I’m sure if we were kids you would’ve been faster than me but you’d let me catch you like I’m in on it, I don’t want to get away, I want to keep playing with you, the way children’s games have unspoken rules instantly agreed upon.

Dried out creek grass starved in the concrete and preserved by the sun would scratch our legs all over like the world was biting us. Saying don't linger. And if we were kids I think we wouldn’t want to.

Now your skin is grown over in soft foliage, the sort of stuff that marks the year-boundaries where play becomes sex before some ephemeral stuff makes it play again. All you want to do when you’re grown up is to linger.

When I came up behind you I would’ve slapped my hand against your left shoulder blade harder than I needed to, trying to knock the touch free of fondness. Half on tank top half on skin, slick with sunscreen but turning red anyway. Hurting you a little and making you wince. When you’re a kid it’s funny but if this had actually happened and I remembered it now I’d say sorry to you out of nowhere.

My hand would’ve stayed there to make sure you’d felt it. Ludic magic. This is the part where you stand still. 

I still want you like that, a beautiful brown grasshopper cupped in my hands that I have to let go on the steps of my house. 

I would’ve said hi instead of I caught you cause I would’ve felt embarrassed exercising power over you. I always say hi over and over when I’m touching you and I make eye contact. Sometimes when your face is out of frame I’ll say stuff like is this okay not even to get an answer. I have nothing to say but can’t keep quiet. 

Making you come is almost deciding to go home when we’ve meandered all we want for the day, and gotten too hungry to keep playing.

Grown ups cook their own dinners. If we were kids I wouldn’t really want to go home because I could never be certain I’d see you the next day but I know I will now.

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#been a while since i posted here hi. #thanks so much if u read