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andvys · 2 months

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I'm begging for you to take my hand | E.M.

Warnings: reader is a single!mom and was dumped by her previous boyfriend, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of heartbreak, Eddie being a bit of a grump but this is pure fluff

Pairing: Older!Eddie Munson x fem!single mom!reader

Word count: 4k

Summary: It's a hot summer afternoon when Eddie's life changes for the better, and two very special people step into his life.

Author's note: this little oneshot was based on this reuqest. and I once again have to thank my bestieee @hellfire--cult for helping me out. I worked on this idea back in July and then just abandoned it cause I didn't like the way I wrote it, but Roe threw her amazing ideas at me and helped me out, thank you bby!

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The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, Def Leppard is playing on the stereo, the bottle of beer is cold in his hand as he lies out in the sun, enjoying his free afternoon – life couldn’t be better.

While all his friends are living their ‘perfect’ white picket fence lives that aren't as perfect as they once thought it’d be, Eddie is enjoying his life in utter bliss and peace, with no one disrupting his sleep or his precious free time.

He is still writing songs, still performing at The Hideout, still living his life while everyone else is busy with their wives and their kids – something that Eddie never saw himself having. He wasn’t cut out for this life and he is content with what he has now.

He has a good job that allowed him to leave the Trailer park behind, he now lives in a small house in a quiet neighborhood with no kids screaming through the streets and irritating him, at least until now.

A small giggle disrupts his peace, he squints his eyes open after taking his sunglasses off only to see a little kid running into his backyard, laughing loudly as he escapes the young woman who is running after him. There’s no doubt in him that you’re some incapable babysitter, the distressed look on your face gives it away.

“Jamie, get your ass back here! This is not our house and you’re naked!”

“The fuck,” Eddie grumbles, getting up from the lounger he was enjoying the sun on, he puts the bottle down and makes his way over to the boy who runs through the grass in only his blue swim trunks, his curls bouncing as he giggles even louder when the woman gets closer, he isn’t looking where he’s going, and runs straight towards Eddie, who bends down and picks up the boy from underneath his armpits before he can escape further.

A small gasp escapes the boy’s mouth but he then continues his giggling when his eyes find Eddie’s, who is holding him up now, with a distance and an angry look on his face as he stares at the boy who just looks like a copy of him with the long brown curls, and his brown eyes.

He looks over his shoulder, seeing you from up close now as you rush over to the two of them. He can’t even stop himself from ogling you in your little skirt that barely covers anything and your skimpy bikini top. Your hair is a mess on your head and your sunglasses barely stay in place, you look flustered but so very beautiful and hot.

And way too young for him and his thirty eight. You can’t be a day over twenty.

“Mommy! He has the same hair as me!” The boy laughs.

Eddie’s eyes almost bulge out of his head at the words mommy. You look way too young to be a mommy, especially for a kid who’s definitely over the age of four.

You’re not some incapable babysitter, just a stressed mom.

The kid is squirming in his hold but he reaches out to him, grabbing his curls with his tiny hands, he tugs at it causing Eddie to scrunch his nose up.

“Hey! Don’t do that, shithead!”

Jamie keeps going, not caring about the grumpy tone in Eddie’s voice or the angry look on his face, he continues laughing.

You pant like crazy as you finally halt in front of them, trying to catch your breath. Your chest is heaving up and down, and despite the squirmy kid in his hands, he can’t help but look you up and down, once again.

“I-I am.. shit..”

“Mommy!” Jamie exclaims.

You fan your face with your hand, rolling your eyes at your boy.

“Jamie.. shut up.. for a second,” you mumble, already knowing that you will feel guilty for saying these words to him later on, despite the giggle that falls from his lips. “I-I’m so sorry.. We are – I’m not used to running like this anymore, oh my god.”

“Mommy said a bad word, sir.”

“I heard,” Eddie mumbles.

You breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that he could’ve gotten away further if it wasn’t for this… kind neighbor. It takes you a moment to catch your breath, but when you finally do and you raise your head to look at the man who is still holding your kid, your breath gets knocked out of you again. Not only are you met with the most handsome face you have ever seen, he was also blessed with the prettiest eyes and hair, his pale and toned body is covered in tattoos and you almost drool over the beautiful stranger.

Your eyes move down his body, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Eddie. His lips tug into the smallest smirk and he steps towards you, meeting your wide eyes when you raise your head to look at him with your flustered face.

You blink, breaking eye contact as you take your kid from his hands. Jamie instantly wraps his arms around your neck but his eyes are glued on Eddie, just like yours are.

“Say sorry to our new neighbor,” you whisper through your embarrassment.

“Eddie,” he nods, revealing his name to you.

Eddie. You repeat in your head, as though you could ever forget his name.

“Sowwy Eddie!”

Eddie chuckles a little, but shakes his head, raising his eyebrows at you, “new neighbor?”

“Oh yeah! We moved in yesterday. Sorry if the trucks made a lot of noise…” You say shyly.

He waves his hand at you, “oh no, I might have been at work at that time, so trust me, I didn’t hear anything, darling.”

Your eyes widen at the nickname, cheeks burning underneath his gaze. You swallow harshly.

Eddie looks down at your hand, instinctively looking for a ring on your finger only to find none.

“Oh uh, this is Jamie, by the way,” you chuckle softly as you pinch your son’s cheek, before you introduce yourself to him, giving him your name with a shy smile on your lips.

He repeats your name, making you blush even more when it rolls off his tongue so… prettily.

“I-I uh.. we’ll get going,” you murmur as you take a step back, looking down at Jamie who is still staring at Eddie, “I’m sorry again, we’ll see you around.”

You give him a shy smile before you turn around and walk away, unaware of your son waving at Eddie with a grin on his small face.

Eddie sighs, begrudgingly raising his hand to wave back.

He already knows that it won’t be the last he will see of him… or you.

A few days had gone by since he met his new neighbors, and he hasn’t seen you or your boy since then but he heard music from the open living room window the other day and the smell of cookies lingered in the air when he came from work earlier today.

Eddie is enjoying a peaceful evening out on the porch, playing around with his acoustic guitar as he enjoys the last rays of the sun, the fresh breeze kissing his skin.

The bushes that divide his backyard from yours rustle, and from the corner of his eyes, he sees the mop of curls. He stops playing and leans back in his chair as he glances at the little audience – the little boy that peeks over the bushes, watching him.

Eddie can’t help but groan in annoyance.

“Watcha doin, Eddie?” His soft and small voice cracks Eddie a little, almost feeling guilty for the groan that just escaped him.

“Playing guitar,” he grumbles.

Jamie sighs, still staring at the man with his big brown eyes.

“Can I watch?” He asks, giving him the best puppy dog eyes he has ever seen.

How could Eddie ever say no to someone so adorable?

“Sure, just stay over there.”

“Yes, sir.”

Eddie continues playing, closing his eyes again and goes back to what he was doing – enjoying his evening. He doesn’t realize that after the second song, Jamie starts getting closer and closer, ignoring what Eddie said to him earlier. The little boy sits down on the porch steps, staring at Eddie and the way he plays the song so easily, he watches with awe in his eyes and a bright smile.

Only when Eddie stops playing and the soft clapping pulls him out of his thoughts, does he open his eyes to find the boy so close. He almost chuckles, of course he didn’t listen.

“Do you know the barney song?” Jamie asks, tilting his head in a cute way.

“Barney?” Eddie mumbles.

“Yeah!”

Eddie furrows his brows, shaking his head slowly, “I don’t think so, bud.”

The little boy sighs, frowning and looking down at his hands with a dejected look on his face, one that fills Eddie with the slightest amount of guilt.

With a sigh, he starts playing a different song, one that he remembers from his childhood. The theme from Ducktales.

Jamie perks up, he looks at him with wide eyes and a smile on his face, clapping his small hands together again.

“Life is like a hurricane here in duckberg–”

Eddie’s eyes widen in surprise when he starts singing, a smile tugs at his lips as he continues playing, nodding at him to keep singing.

His heart soars a little watching that kid – not that he would ever admit. But watching the way his eyes shine with happiness and dimples appear in his cheeks as he smiles even wider fills his chest with a warmth he had never felt before – is that adoration the grump feels?

“I didn’t think you’d know that song. The cartoon is very old,” Eddie says when he finishes playing the song, he puts his guitar down and places his elbows on his knees, looking down at the curly haired boy.

“Well, my mom is very old!”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head in amusement.

You are very far from old, he still isn’t sure about your age, but he is convinced that you’re in your twenties.

“I know the song too, does that make me old too?”

“Yes!” He nods, his curls bouncing wildly.

“Jamie!”

Both Eddie and Jamie perk up at the sound of your voice, they both watch you rushing over just like you did a couple of days back.

Eddie chuckles when he sees you rolling your eyes but sighing in relief at the sight of your kid.

“Jamie, stop bothering our neighbor!” You groan, softly as you throw an apologetic look at Eddie.

“But he’s so cool!”

Eddie chuckles, and this time you do too. You stop in front of them where he can see you better – his breathing stutters a little when he sees you properly. Your hair is up in a bun, your glossy lips glowing beneath the evening sun, you have flour on your cheek and your hair, it’s clear that you were busy in the kitchen when Jamie made his escape, Eddie would’ve snickered at the look on your face if he wasn’t so awestruck by your beauty.

“I’m really sorry, Eddie,” you mumble, trying to smile at him as you take your son’s hand.

“It’s fine, sweetheart,” he smiles, ignoring the way his stomach fluttered when you said his name.

When you say your goodbyes and you walk away with your son, Eddie can’t help but stare at the two of you, a soft smile resting in his features.

“Is he my daddy?” Jamie asks, a little too loudly.

Eddie’s eyes widen and he almost laughs at the gasp that falls from your lips, followed by a loud ‘Jamie!’ He watches the way you turn around, as though to check if he heard it but Eddie quickly averts his gaze to save you from the embarrassment.

He stares down at his guitar, pressing his lips together.

The slight fluttering in his stomach that’s already been there when he saw you the first time, now feeling even stronger than before.

You’re single, you clearly don’t have a husband or a boyfriend. And somehow that makes him feel… relieved.

That night wasn’t the last he saw of you or your kid. Jamie keeps showing up in his backyard whenever Eddie is outside, whether he’s just lounging in the garden, playing guitar or trying to write a song, the boy comes over all the time, melting Eddie’s heart more and more and sneaking his way into his life, pulling you along, as well. And Eddie can’t help but grow protective over the little boy, enjoying his company and yours.

While he was annoyed the first few times, he now feels excitement every time the boy shows up with his toothy grin and the curly hair that resembles his.

Over time, he learned more about you – Jamie’s dad was a drummer in some rock band that Eddie had never heard of, he wanted nothing to do with his child or you when you found out you were pregnant. He broke your heart, dumped you and left you to go through it all by yourself. You were only twenty and you had no one, you were all alone. It’s something that left Eddie seething in anger when he found out, how could anyone do this to you? How could anyone neglect their child? How could anyone not want you and this sweet boy around?

Because he does, he wants you around after only a few weeks of knowing the two of you.

He couldn’t even blink before you both sneaked your way into his heart.

It’s a Friday night when the doorbell rings, the sound pulling him away from the book he was reading. He throws it on the couch and gets up, walking over through the long hallway that leads to the front door. He doesn’t expect to find you on the other side when he opens the door, but it’s always a welcoming sight.

“Hi,” you say softly, blessing him with that beautiful smile of yours, filling his heart with warmth.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles at you before his eyes fall on Jamie who seems to be shying away from him today, hiding behind you. He reaches his hand out to him, ruffling his curls, “hey bud, feeling a little shy today?”

“Jamie wanted to ask you something.”

Eddie raises his brows, leaning against the doorframe, he crosses his arms over his chest, “oh?”

Jamie hides even further, peeking out from behind you though as he looks at the man through his bangs.

You giggle, eyes flashing with amusement.

Eddie’s heart flutters at that sound and he can’t help but stare at you.

“Come on, bug.. ask him, the worst he can say is no and we’ll get someone else,” you say softly, smiling down at him as you squeeze his hand.

“No!” He protests, giving you a pout, “I want Eddie to teach me!”

Eddie tilts his head in curiosity, looking between you and your kid.

“Mommy got me a guitar…” Jamie says shyly.

“He’s been hooked since he heard you play,” you smile at Eddie.

Eddie’s eyes soften at your words, he looks down at your boy, bending down to his eye level.

“And what did you want to ask me, bud?”

Jamie slowly steps out from behind you, revealing a band shirt to the older man that instantly lightens up his eyes, the boy takes another step forward.

“If you… If you can teach me,” he whispers shyly.

Eddie is stunned and surprised that a small kid likes him in this manner. Eddie is grumpy, a little cold and distant most of the time, something that scares away all the other kids but this little boy took a liking towards him, he wants to be like him, like a mini him. And Eddie’s heart soars at that, he feels pride rushing through him.

“Alright, I’ll teach you.”

His big eyes widen in excitement and this time, he can’t even hold back, he jumps up and down in excitement before he throws his arms around Eddie’s neck, hugging him tightly as he giggles into his ear – melting the grumpy man’s heart completely.

And you, you’re a little perplexed that Eddie willingly wants to spend time with him, you always worried that he bothered him too much already, but Eddie seems to be excited, just as excited as your boy is.

Eddie wraps his arms around his small body, patting his back as he laughs a little. Your heart flutters at the sight of the two of them.

“Let’s go!” Jamie giggles excitedly, reaching for Eddie’s hand when he pulls away from the hug, pulling the man out of his house, “you need to see my guitar!”

“Jamie, maybe he’s busy right now–”

“No, no sweets,” Eddie shakes his head, reaching for the keys on the counter before he shuts the door. He keeps holding Jamie's hand as he steps towards you, surprising you by lifting his arm up and pressing his palm against your back, “I wanna see his metal guitar.”

Your breathing stutters and your eyes widen once again when he pulls you closer, making you feel comfortable and safe in his embrace. He squeezes your shoulder when you step closer to him, throwing a smile at him that almost has him weak in the knees.

Jamie begins to ramble from all the excitement in him and Eddie, he squeezes his hand, smiling down at the boy with a fond look on his face.

His hand moves down your side and he slowly reaches for your hand, not knowing that this innocent little touch makes your insides tingle with something. He presses his palm against yours, waiting for you to intertwine your fingers with his, and when you do, he squeezes your hand, making his own heart flutter with the action.

And as Eddie feels your touch like this for the very first time and the tiny hand that tugs at his fingers, he finds himself understanding what his friends meant when they shared their dreams of a white picket fence and a family.

Because suddenly, as he walks down the street with the two of you, he feels something he had never felt before, comfort and the want and need to protect and care for the people who came into his life and blessed him with… happiness.

And he becomes a part of your life, like the two of you became a part of his.

What starts with guitar lessons turns into something more – movie nights, game nights, breakfast at the diner, afternoons at the lake.

You and Eddie get closer and closer, the pull between the two of you becoming stronger as well. Though you never cross over that line. Not yet.

Your touches are innocent, so are the glances you throw at each other, but you crave him and he craves you and you show each other just how much weeks later at Jamie's birthday party. Eddie was invited as his best friend.

The backyard is filled with kids and their parents who all came to the party as well, laughter and chatter could be heard all the way to the kitchen, where you prepare the snacks with Eddie by your side. His arm is brushing against yours, and you keep biting back the smile as you sneak glances at him, watching the way he cuts the fruit with a concentrated look on his face.

You put down the knife after throwing the fruit into the bowl.

Eddie was so determined to help you out in the kitchen, he didn’t even let you protest against it.

He doesn’t have to do this.

He could be out there chatting with Steve who came here with his kids, but he chose to be here with you.

“Hey Eddie?”

“Yes, sweets?”

You take a deep breath and walk over to the sink, putting the cutting board and the knife down, you hold onto the edge of the counter.

“Thank you for being so nice with Jamie… and well, with me too. The sink is fixed again thanks to you,” you giggle nervously, glancing over your shoulder at him to see him walking towards you with a smile on his face, biting his bottom lip.

“Yeah, well... it’s impossible not to like the little devil… you know what I like the most about him?”

Your cheeks almost hurt from how much you want to smile when you feel him coming up behind you, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him.

“His mom.”

You start blushing furiously, turning around in his arms to stare at him, despite the flustered look on your face.

The look in his eyes and the fond smile on his face doesn’t help either, it makes you even weaker.

“So… a kid is not a turn off for you I suppose?” You ask, looking at him through hooded eyes.

He tilts his head, “it was before… but then I met my little mini me and you,” he says with his husky voice, pulling you closer against him as his hand moves up your side, playing with the thin material of your dress, “it’s an absolute turn on to see you in momma bear mode.”

You grow even more flustered now, slapping his chest lightly but it only makes him chuckle more and he pulls you flush against him as his face inches closer to yours. He looks down at your lips, he feels the heat of your body against his and god… even that feels perfect enough, he won’t know what to do with himself when he actually gets to kiss you and feel your lips against his for the first time.

“Hmm… Well then you’re lucky that I’m into rockstars.”

His heart skips a beat when you move closer this time, but before your lips could even brush against his, loud footsteps echo through the hallway and Jamie comes running into the kitchen with a plastic sword in his hand and wearing a pirate costume.

“Mommy! I’m a pirate!”

Eddie pulls away with a soft groan and you giggle when you’re forced to pull away from each other.

He looks down at your little boy, a grin taking over his face.

“You know who I am, bud?”

Jamie’s curious brown eyes squint at him, “who?”

Eddie grabs the spatula that was laying on the kitchen counter, stepping towards Jamie and going into a fighting stance, putting on his best mean face, “the most terrible and scary pirate in all the seven seas, matey!” He speaks with a deep, dramatic voice.

Jamie laughs as he runs away with Eddie chasing after him. And you watch smiling fondly, the sight in front of you pulling at your heart strings.

And you aren’t the only one who’s watching him, Steve is watching him too, amused and a little surprised to see him like that. Eddie had been his friend for almost twenty years now, and not once has he seen him so happy with a woman by his side, let alone a kid.

He can’t even bite his tongue when he gets a moment alone with him.

“So… what was that of not wanting kids?” Steve asks him later that night, smirking at Eddie who can’t keep his eyes off you while you’re talking to Steve’s wife.

“Uh,” Eddie chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “at least the baby part is done with…” He trails off with doubt as he watches you, the way you smile, the way you laugh, the way you look so happy, the way your eyes light up when they meet his briefly. His eyes then move down to your stomach, and suddenly he can’t stop himself from imagining you with a baby bump that carries his own child, his heart flutters at the thought. “But maybe…”

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise when he sees the lovesick look in his best friend’s eyes.

“Oh boy…”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x single mom!reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble

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luveline · 2 years

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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one | part two | part three | part four

summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue the movies, nachos, cherry cough syrup, and a couple of moments of clarity. [10k]

warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!! tw sick fic

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Eddie has the most peculiar curl tucked up by his neck. Where most are frizzy and loose, this one falls in a perfect shiny ringlet below his ear. He shifts and it's out of view, a curtain of dark hair falling forward and hiding his face as he puts your car in park.

"Remind me why you had to drive?" you ask, ducking down to look at the glaring white lights of the movie theatre across the street.

"You were gonna fall asleep behind the wheel."

For once, Eddie might not be exaggerating. He grins at your lack of rebuttal and throws an arm behind your shoulders, twisting in the driver's seat to set his sights on Junie.

"Are you ready?" he asks her.

She wiggles. It's an ecstatic movement. Her clothes are prim and sweet if you do say so yourself, a long sleeved shirt under a pair of the world's cutest dungarees. They crinkle as she moves, pressed to perfection.

You and Eddie open opposite doors in tandem and step out into the brisk, early night. The sidewalk shines with rain, a black slickness stretching in every direction. You shiver and pull your thin jacket tighter to your torso as you turn back to the car, intending to retrieve Junie and rush into the theatre before you can freeze on the spot.

Eddie's already swung open the door and rescued your daughter from the confines of her car seat, neatening up the hem of one of her socks with her face pushed over his shoulder.

She giggles about something and Eddie says, "Sorry, June. 'M tickling you, am I?" so fondly you have to avert your eyes.

He locks the car and hands over your keys with a smile. You smile back, heart flipping like a spinning coin. Head over tails, over and over.

The big, ring-heavy hand he holds to Junie's back reaches for you suddenly enough that you flinch.

"I'm sorry," he apologises, suppressing a laugh, "your necklace is twisted."

He moves in a second time and you raise your chin, chest aflame as his fingers glance off of your bare skin. He slips the chain over his index and pulls, encouraging the links around until the clasp is hidden again.

"Thank you." You huff an awkward, sheepish laugh.

"You owe me," he says, mock-severe.

Your laugh is much more genuine as you follow him across the road.

You're squinting as you approach The Hawk movie theatre. The title cards are hard to look at, aggressively white with black capital letters that read, 'The Great Mouse Detective 7'.

There's a small line of families waiting by the front. You realise it like a shock, that the three of you must look like a family too.

Eddie carries Junie with the surety of a dad that's carried his child a hundred times before; he strokes the back of her head with the affection of one, soothing the mess of flyaways she'd acquired by squirming in her car seat. Junie responds with familiarity, hands tucked into his hair and tugging. She's trying to be nice but his hair won't allow it, all his long curls tangled at the ends from a day at work.

Still, he says, "Thanks, baby. Make sure you get the back, okay?"

"Okay," she echoes.

You look down at your wringing hands. There's ink smudged up the side of your writing hand. You scratch at it half-heartedly, blinking against your fatigue.

You're exhausted tonight and it's only Wednesday. You can't imagine how you'll fare tomorrow considering how little sleep you're expecting tonight — there are a thousand things to do when you get home. Laundry to wash and press, cleaning to do, dinner to make.

You'd been writing cheques for due bills when Eddie had come knocking, well-dressed, stupid-handsome, and announced that tonight you would be accompanying him to the movies. He'd actually said 'accompanying'.

Despite a full agenda, you'd said yes. You're not very good at saying no. At least, not to him.

It takes you a moment to realise you're at the front of the line. You pay for the tickets before Eddie can try it, and with his hands full he can't really stop you. He whines about it all the way to the concession stand.

"You can buy the snacks," you say. His face lights up, and you amend, "If you're reasonable."

"I'm always reasonable…ly over the top," he says, chided by your hard stare.

"Yes, you are."

He follows you down the two steps to the concession and cuts in front of you. "How did you do that? What face was that? I felt my soul leave my body."

"That's my disapproving mom look. I'm disapproving."

"Ah." He pats Junie's side sympathetically.

She pulls her head from over his shoulder and smiles at you. Her arms vy for your hold. You steal her from Eddie and kiss her all over her tiny face, uplifted by how much she loves you, how happy she is to be in your arms.

"What snacks do you want? Do you eat popcorn with butter? Without?" Eddie asks, his newly emptied arms already posed thoughtfully, a hand under his chin as he thinks over his options.

The theatre has a huge array of jellies, an even bigger array of candy bars. There are more brands of soda than there are glasses in your kitchen cabinet.

You're daunted.

"Whatever you want," you say.

Eddie groans and tips his head back. "Don't play with me like this. Butter or no butter? It's an easy question."

"I don't know. Without?"

"You are so weird," he says happily.

You pout and pull Junie closer.

Standing at the side while he gathers concessions, too many things, you watch in awe as Eddie stacks it all against his chest with the sure confidence of someone who's done it before.

He grins at you from between two huge cups. "Are we ready?"

If you could, you'd leave him here in the foyer with his jumbo deluxe popcorn. As it stands, you like him too much to leave him behind. You juggle Junie and your bag to push open the doors for him outside of screen two.

"Thanks, babe," he says outside of screen two. You bite your lip, surprised by his easy tone.

You climb up the stairs and into your seats. You're high enough for Junie to sit in her own chair between you and Eddie and see the screen comfortably but she adamantly refuses, stretching out in your lap like an alley cat hungry for affection.

Eddie moves into the ragtag velvet seat beside you, a million things in his lap and at your feet. He's pretty enough under the theatre lights to dull the panging ache at the back of your head. "If she won't sit here, I will. I got you a lemonade, is that cool?"

If it weren't you'd hardly tell him.

"She's being extremely well-behaved," Eddie notes, an inkling of pride in his tone.

You could sucker punch him. Why does he do this to you?

"I know," you say with a shy smile, "it's suspicious, isn't it?"

"I don't know. If I were in your lap I might be well-behaved too." He raises his eyebrows, an over-exaggerated show of flirtatiousness.

You reach over the arm to take a handful of popcorn. Eyes on Junie, you offer her your stolen goods and say, "I've got two thighs."

"Don't tempt me."

Junie all but snatches the popcorn and tilts her head back. A kernel falls from her hand and disappears between the seats. You make a mental note to pick it up afterward, ears full of her chomping.

You'd worried she might be a little loud for the movies but there's a bunch of kids and none seem keen on keeping quiet, a cacophony of childish complaints to hide your conversation.

"Are babies supposed to eat popcorn?"

You freeze up. "Oh- I don't know," you say, turning Junie toward you so you can watch her swallow.

"I thought I read that somewhere, but-"

"No, I think you're right. Um…" Junie looks at you with obvious confusion. "Was that yummy?" you ask. You hide your concern with a strained bubbly attentiveness.

"I guess she's old enough."

Eddie's being very casual – it is casual. He's just thinking out loud. You know he's not criticising you. He never has, though sometimes you think he should.

It must show on your face anyhow that you're having a 'I'm a bad mom' crisis. A mean stroke of insecurity.

"Sweetheart," Eddie says suddenly, brows pinched, "it's alright. It was just a thought. And she had no problem eating it, I'm sure she's gonna be aces. Better than aces."

Junie climbs out of your lap and into his. He sets the popcorn on the floor to take her, and when her hands reach for his drink he holds the straw to her mouth. All the while his eyes move between her and you.

"Okay," you say, because you're being silly.

Junie is fine. Eddie was only saying something that's very well true. Babies aren't supposed to have popcorn, but June's not a baby, really. She knows how to chew properly. It's unlikely she'll choke.

Eddie has to keep his focus on her to avoid getting soaked – she barely knows how to use a straw and keeps trying to turn the cup upside down.

"Not like that, trouble. Right way up. You got it."

You pick at the loose stitching at the end of your shirt and have to change the subject before the embarrassment of it all swallows you. Such a small thing.

"Can I try one of these?" you ask, grabbing the first bag of candy you can find. They're a bag of Super Sour Suckers.

He looks at you over Junie's head, startled and hiding it poorly. Then, a smile so bright it increases the embarrassment you're feeling tenfold.

"You have to! Robin said they're even worse than the normal ones, I don't wanna go through that alone," he says urgently.

Robin is one of his friends. You're not jealous that he has friends (though you are, because you want your own, but not jealous that he has friends that aren't you). He's mentioned her in passing before. When you'd asked as bravely as you dared if they were anything more than friends he'd laughed maniacally.

"We're definitely just friends," he'd said.

You fight to stay smiling and pull open the bag of candies. Ironically, the jellies inside are shaped like pacifiers. Covered in sugar packed densely and looking almost wet with what you suspect to be citric acid, you shake the packet wearily and search for a candy that won't ruin your tongue.

Eddie holds out his hand. You drop a green one into his palm. Your fingertips ride up the curve of his thumb.

He's unflinching as he eats it. After a few seconds his eyes screw up and he clutches June tight to his chest, raising an unhelpful hand to his jaw.

"Holy sugar," he says, wincing.

You bite into a pink pacifier unfortunately layered in sugar and wait nervously for the sourness to kick in. Sure enough, it comes quick and torturous. It's a knife cutting through fog.

It's hard to feel tired when there's something this sour in your mouth.

"You can't spit it out!" Eddie says.

You stop with your hand halfway to your mouth. "What?" you ask incredulously, trying not to dribble.

"You gotta eat it! Chew and swallow!"

You chew miserably. He laughs at your expression – a warm and hyper sound, practically giggling. Junie joins in as she always does. His joy can't be overstated.

The lights go down while you're still fighting for your life. Your eyes water and you have to smother the taste with a quick drink and a gasping breath.

"You're sick. I can't believe you let me eat that," you whisper.

"You saw me eat mine! You knew what you were getting into… Think June wants one?"

Your outrage has him laughing again. It's a magnetic sound. Every time he does it you want to touch him, his arm one pole and your hand another.

Junie gets comfortable on his right leg, head tipped expectantly against his chest and eyes drawn to the screen as the trailers begin. You don't bother with jealousy; in ten minutes she'll be climbing over the arm to sit with you again, or want to sit in her own seat. She may even try to walk around. Toddlers are indecisive and easily distracted.

Even if she weren't. Even if she sat there in his lap for the next hour and a half and didn't look your way, you're not sure you could harbour any envy against him. His hand spreads over the front of her torso with fingers splayed against her ribs, stroking thoughtlessly through the fabric of her thick clothes.

He tips his head toward your chair. "There's nachos."

"I saw."

"Wanna eat some before they get cold?"

"Subtle."

He snorts. "Yep. That's what they call me. Eddie Subtle Munson."

You reach over the dark floor for the tray of nachos and balance them carefully on the armrest between your two seats. Eddie digs in without fuss, you fret over which ones have jalapeños on them, and Junie gets mad that nobody's sharing with her. She puts her hands straight in a mound of orange cheese. Her face is a picture when she brings it to her mouth. She's discovered molten gold.

"Junie," Eddie says lightly, carding hair away from her ear so she can hear him properly. "Don't get cheese on your pretty clothes. It took your mom a week to get the rocky road out of your strawberry jammies, you know?"

He doesn't care that she's mauled the food. He's worried she might stain her dungarees. Your heart goes crazy, another sudden surge of clarity.

Junie climbs back into your own lap as the movie begins. You whisper to her about proper theatre etiquette in your mommy voice and she doesn't do too bad a job at listening. She finds the appearance of the Great Mouse Detective himself quite funny, and laughs at his grave features and expressions every now and then. It's a golden sound.

Try as you might, you can't keep your eyes open. Junie's having such a good time and Eddie whispers funny commentary beside you, but eventually your eyelids creep shut and Eddie squeezes your arm, skin braceleted by his thick, warm fingers.

"C'mere," Eddie prompts, hands vying for your daughter where she's perched in your lap.

"Why?" Junie asks.

He's surprised at her inquisition. "You don't want a hug?"

She nods voraciously. Eddie lifts her off of your lap before she can use you as a climbing frame and into his own.

"I think mommy's sleeping," he tells her.

Junie looks at you curiously. You've got a wet wipe in your limp hand, which he takes and discards, and your head's fallen to one side. You'll have an awesome crick in your neck when you wake up.

Junie gives him a hug. He loves her hugs. They're so small and sweet, she's genuinely an extremely loving little girl. Her smile when she hugs people is beautiful as yours is, though her affection is less hesitant.

Everything's going well until she catches a look at the huge, scary bad guy Professor Ratigan somewhere in the middle.

Eddie's crunching through a greedy mouthful of popcorn and almost chokes as she turns around and hides in his chest. He brings a hand up to her back protectively though he doesn't know what happened, eyes moving between her and the screen at lightning speed.

"Aw, June," he murmurs sympathetically. He really is a scary looking guy.

"Eddie," she says, dangerously close to tears.

"Sweetheart, it's okay! He's only on TV."

She says something that might be, "Don't want." It's not quite there but Eddie thinks she's doing a great job lately with her talking, patting her back in a silent well done as he attempts to reassure her. "Basil's gonna outsmart him, Junie. The Great Mouse Detective is gonna save the day, scout's honour."

"No," she whines softly.

He covers her unhappy face with his hand.

"It's okay," he murmurs, melted and bemused. "It's okay, junebug. I swear."

Despite his best efforts, she starts to cry. Eddie freezes up because she doesn't cry often, not with him. When she does you're always there to find a solution. He supposes the novelty of being a new person has long worn off, and that he's going to have to make more of an effort than just tickling her or petting her hair to make it better.

Her volume increases. He shushes her, clumsy and awkward but earnest, trying the best that he can to make it up. He offers candies and drinks, he rummages through your baby bag for Mr. Bear. She takes it all but none of it lasts.

Someone in the chair behind him coughs pointedly.

Eddie turns to wake you up. He gets one good look at your face and can't follow through.

You're sleeping deeply, at the movie theatre of all places. How tired are you, and why hadn't you said? He'd known to some extent — it's why he'd offered to drive — but with the movie blaring and all the kids and noise and now Junie's crying, he realises you must be exhausted to sleep through it. Why hadn't he noticed? He kicks himself.

He lifts her up with his head angled down, giving your shoulder a swift squeeze and then bumping down the steps with Junie until he's out into the lights of the hallway. The door swings closed.

It's oddly quiet and extremely bright. Junie stops crying to blink, and starts to cry again once she's adjusted.

Eddie does not know what to do. It's a kick to his ego that he quickly accepts, though he does murmur a rueful, "Babe, I thought you liked me."

Lost on deaf ears, his comment hangs in the air.

He pats her back some more, wracking his brain for how you take care of her when she gets like this. Mostly, you're patient. You hum and you wait. Eddie tries to emulate you and your kind heart, walking her up and down the hall as he taps the bottom of her spine.

"It's okay," he repeats. The more he says it the easier it feels. It is okay. He has to find a way to help June understand that, is all.

She grizzles. It's a long process. A couple of times he wonders if he's in over his head, if it's even his place, if he should wake you up and admit defeat.

But Eddie Munson is trying to prove something.

He works Mr. Bear out of Junie's iron grip and pinches his back taut so that his face and arms wiggle when he wants them to.

"Baby June," he begins, in as gruff a voice as he can manage. He tries to channel his uncle's sternness, and his fondness. "Won't you quit crying? You're getting tears on the neck of your t-shirt and all over your cheeks."

Junie quietens. She still cries, but the severity of the situation noticeably shifts.

Eddie keeps on. "I got just the thing," he says, pushing Mr. Bear forward and making smacking sounds as he kisses both of her cheeks. "Gotta kiss these tears right off a'you."

She laughs as Mr. Bear kisses her face dry and laughs some more when Eddie kisses the top of her head.

Eddie loves Junie.

He knows it for a fact.

She's very easy to love. She's beautiful as you are, she's loving, she's sweet. Her laugh is adorable and her smile is more. When she cries, Eddie finds he's never annoyed. Grated by the repetitive sound, maybe, but he can't find it in himself to be mad with her ever. He wants to help her work through it. To get you both through it. Eddie wants to be good at this.

He has Mr. Bear kiss Junie all over her face.

"See?" Mr. Bear asks. "Isn't that better? No more tears, little girl, or we'll never see the end of the movie!"

As Eddie says it, he wonders if taking her back into the theatre is a good idea.

"Hey, junebug?" he says, all drama set aside.

Junie lifts her flushed face.

He smiles gratefully. "Do you wanna go back inside? Go check on mommy?" Leaving you by yourself doesn't exactly sit right with him.

Ah, there's the face he was expecting. Puzzlement, surprise. Junie frowns at him and looks over his shoulder, her own, searching the empty hallway for you and finding only reflective floor lights and patterned carpet.

Eddie starts back into the screen room before she can cry over your being missing, chatting quietly but in a way that commands her attention. He's effective in the art of distraction if nothing else.

The mouse detective and his friends have defeated Professor Ratigan, though Eddie shields Junie's head from the screen in case he's thinking about making a comeback, finding his way back to you in the dark. He picks over other people's snacks and then the abundance of your own, finding you still sound asleep. The sight doesn't spell good tidings.

"Here she is," Eddie tells Junie, "here's mom. You wanna give her a kiss?"

He sits down in his seat and squishes a bag of gummy worms under his boot. Junie immediately bends over the armrest and grabs at your front. You'd worried to him once that she had separation anxiety, and Eddie didn't know anything about it to agree or not. This display makes him think she might. She's clinging to you, desperately wanting your attention.

Eddie winces as she grabs your face. She's obviously not trying to be cruel, hand stroking over your cheek as you'd stroke hers.

"Mom," she whispers, the action itself enough to get Eddie laughing. Her version of whispering is almost like a character in a pantomime.

He doesn't laugh for very long. You're not easy to wake up. Junie squishes your cheek and tries again. "Mommy," she says.

You groan in your sleep and your eyes scrunch together. "What?" you murmur finally, voice scratchy.

"You're missing the movie," Eddie says, patting your thigh.

Your arms come to life before you do. You wrap them around Junie's short torso and encourage her up your chest until you can nose at the top of her head. You rub slow lines, a steady back and forth. Eddie would bet money you don't have a clue in the world where you are.

"S'loud," you complain. Your voice is weak with sleep.

Junie looks at Eddie weirdly. He suspects it's her way of asking him to help out without asking.

He tenses his hand where it rests at your thigh. "Do you wanna go home?"

You don't answer. You go limp under his touch and Junie's weight, nose and lips set in a frown but otherwise near languid.

Eddie's small (and alarmingly ever-present) worry for you multiplies by a hundred.

He grabs up a bag of chips and entices your daughter back onto his thigh. She digs through half the bag as the movie draws to a finish, distracted if not happy, her face and fingers swiftly flaked in corn dust. The lights are thrown up and the noise is immense, a hundred pairs of shoes over tipped popcorn, babies and young kids unsettled, their parents eager to head home and watch their own movies no doubt.

Eddie can't say he'd really watched the film besides precursory glances, his focus on you and your fidgety offspring. He'd been excited to tell you about his Junie success, but now he just wants to get you home.

He says your name as clearly as he can, his hand finding its way to your thigh for the third time. He rubs down toward your knee and gives your leg a shake.

Junie climbs off of his own. Now the lights are on she can see the grand assortment of snacks laid out before her, and she seems eager to try them all.

You eventually, thankfully rouse, you drag a palm over your eyes and cross your legs, squishing his hand in the process. He steals it back.

"Babe, you gotta get up. The attendants are looking at us funny. I think they think I've run you ragged, and while the dad tag doesn't bother me, 'cruel husband' doesn't suit me."

"What?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Junie pissed her pants."

Your eyes open, lashes parting clumsily. You move like the air around you has turned to glue and moan in a quiet display of agony as your neck clicks. "She leaked through?"

"Nah, I'm messing with you. Movie's done. Getting some weird stares."

You're quiet, but you shrug on your jacket and Eddie packs what he can of the leftover candy into your bag. He swings it over his shoulder.

"You wanna come up?" he asks Junie.

She raises both arms.

You stand on shaky legs. Eddie stations Junie on one hip with one arm wrapped around her and holds out the other. You let him fold you up into his side.

"You okay?" he asks.

Your face drops into his shoulder. "I'm so tired."

"You're alright to walk out to the car?"

His worry is like a rubber band. You snap to attention, disengage from his hold. It's a foreign and really uncomfortable feeling to see you out of sorts.

Eddie walks behind you with a hand nearly but not touching your back. If you topple, he's not sure how he's gonna save you. Determined anyways, he guards you down the hollow stairs and through the hallway, one step behind you.

It's a cool, crisp night outside.

The smell of rain sticks around. You lift your chin. It's much colder now that night's fallen. The breeze kisses your damp skin. When did you start sweating?

He presses his hand to your shoulders and guides you across the road.

Junie starts her lovely babbling in his ear. "Mouse 'tective," she says at one point. You don't react, affirming his theory: you're more than tired. You're sick.

"Mouse detective," he agrees, arm around your shoulder to assuage his own worries as he gives Junie the best of his attention. "You liked that one, huh?" Besides the evil Professor. "Better than the Muppets in New York? Junebug, you little traitor. How easily your favour changes."

"Are you surprised? She took to you like," — you yawn wide enough that Eddie feels it under his arm, a full body thing — "a duck to water."

He beams, relieved to hear your voice. "Yeah, well, I'm special."

"That's true."

Eddie walks you around to the passenger side and opens your door.

"Flirting! Awesome. You're not too sick to forget how much of a catch I am. Watch your head."

"I gotta do Junie's straps," you say.

"I think I can do it by now."

He's only sort of bluffing. It takes him much longer than it would've taken you. He celebrates his win by pinching her cheek lightly and then whacking his head hard on the roof of your car.

"Fuck," he mutters as he jogs around the hood, scrubbing at the back of his head.

You're staring at him as he opens the door.

He puts the baby bag in your lap and shoves the key in the ignition, trying not to buckle under the weight of your gaze. He cracks quicker than he should, hand paused in its action.

"What?"

"You tryna give yourself a concussion?"

"Kiss it better?"

You kiss the tip of your finger and touch it to his head. It's an instant healing potion.

Getting you both home is easy enough, it's the trying to leave that's hard. You collapse heavily into the couch, Junie drapes herself over your lap and begs for her clothes to be taken off. Your second wind has worn away to nothing, leaving you plainly exhausted.

Eddie can't go home, not until he knows you're alright.

He slinks into your bedroom and tries not to look around too much. It feels like an invasion of privacy despite having made it in here a couple of times, always with his hip to the door as you search for something. He fails spectacularly and straight away, always hungry to know more about you. These days especially.

Your bed looks like you shook out the duvet but never tucked the corners. Your pillow's on the floor, your thin throw blanket is screwed up in a ball. There's a bunch of Junie's stuffies against the headboard. He grins at their straight backs.

He makes for your wardrobe, a cheap bit of cherry wood with one sagging door. As much as he wants to outfit Junie in her goodwill band t-shirt, he pulls a soft pair of cotton pyjamas out from a neatly folded stack, thumbing the blue fabric fondly. There's a noticeable disparity between her clothes and yours. One work skirt and one work shirt hang from two lonely hangers, accompanied only by your infamous 'best jeans'. He frowns at a small stain at the knee and scratches it fruitlessly. Not her best jeans, he thinks in horror, picturing your unhappy face. He can see it so clearly, the pinching of your brows.

Junie squeals happily from the living room. Eddie remembers himself and follows the sound, finding you both on the ground. You're kneeling, blowing raspberries into Junie's naked stomach where she lays on her changing mat, a discarded diaper and her dirty clothes to the side.

There's a big break between raspberries where your eyes drift shut sluggishly. Junie whines for another.

Eddie sits next to you. Stupidly close, his crossed leg kisses your thigh. He could wrap you up in a hug easily right here, and he wants to. Your tired face has his stomach aching with guilt.

"Sweetheart," he says to you firmly, "get back on the couch. You look like you're gonna fall asleep right here."

You don't argue, leaving Eddie the impossible duty of dressing your baby. Junie hates the shirt more than he can describe, loathes the fabric as it covers her face. He has to pick her up to get her into her pants, another fury. She forgives him easily once he's done, lingering by his side with Mr. Bear in hand. She pinches his back and imitates Eddie's low growl, laughing at herself as she does. She finds it very funny. Eddie can't help giggling with her.

"Eddie?" you ask.

He turns. You look miserable.

"What?" he asks softly, startled by your intense expression.

"Thank you."

"Oh, baby," he says, loud and brash as he twists where he is to grab both of your knees. He practically throws himself at you, at your feet, ducking his cheek to your leg. "You really are sick as a dog."

You look visibly embarrassed.

"Listen," he says, insistent, "If we start saying thank you to each other, we won't stop. We'll be a loop of thank yous."

"I think I have more to say than you do," you murmur.

He shakes his head, exasperated at your inability to see him for what he is even now. It's funny. Eddie thinks you've a better view of him than anybody else, that you see him more generously than anyone has ever seen him, and you still haven't noticed he's a boy in love.

You must feel his grin as he kisses your knee, his thumb stroking over the ridge of the cap.

"If I started to say thanks for all the things you've given me I wouldn't stop. I'd talk myself hoarse," Eddie argues.

You laugh at his dungeon master dramatics, but reaffirm, "I haven't given you anything."

"You don't know what you've given me," he says into your leg.

Eddie lifts his head, weary of his chin digging into your leg.

Now isn't the best time to declare devotion, or drop kisses into you when you can't offer any in return. Not that he's expecting you to. Not that he wouldn't receive them gratefully.

"I should go home."

You reach for him. Your hand moves slowly like you've a weight around your wrist, but your fingertips curve over his cheek; you move from the corner of his lip, under his eye, and then finish your circle at the skin beneath his ear.

"Can you hug me?" you ask.

"Yeah," Eddie says. He doesn't waste any time.

He gets up, slides a knee between your knees and rests his full weight on the couch between them as his arms curve around you and his hands feel for the dip of your lower back. He clutches without any hesitation.

"Can I? Did you mean it like that? My arms work fine."

You curl your arms around him and groan. "You're gonna crush me."

"Really?" He pulls you closer. "How 'bout now?"

"Ow," you whine.

He laughs and pushes his face toward your ear. "Liar," he whispers. "No way that hurts."

"Why's everybody always on top of me?"

"That's your issue?" He pulls back. "You want to sit in my lap?"

"No!"

"Aw, my poor girl. You totally wanna sit in my lap. Alright, get in it."

He sits down beside you and waits, one arm still behind your back. He gives you an encouraging tug.

"I'm not sitting in your lap."

"I didn't think you would, just- Just c'mere," he prompts, pulling your face into his chest.

Your arms slide around his waist. He can feel the scratchy skin on your left index finger, a scar of a recent kitchen accident, against his hip where his shirt has ridden.

"You're really handsy. Has anyone told you that before?" Eddie asks, trying to cover the entirety of your back with his arms alone.

You push your face as far as it'll go into his chest. Eddie keeps you there, and soon a little body has found its way onto the couch next to you both, demanding to be included. Eddie quickly drags her in.

Long minutes of quiet hugs.

"Wish we could stay like this forever," you murmur.

"Well, I'm not going anywhere. If you were worried."

He massages over the slope of your shoulder, a tight looking muscle. You sigh inaudibly, a hot patch over his heart.

"I wasn't," you say.

Eddie thinks you might finally be on the same page.

You get really, really sick.

"On my days off!" you croak, the injustice too much to handle.

Eddie laughs from the end of your bed, a bandana tied around his face like a doctor from one of his awful horror movies, though the bandana is far from a clinical white. "That's exactly why you're still sick. Your body sensed the weekend."

Hadn't it? You'd been achy and awful on Friday and Benny had sent you home at lunch, citing a need to keep his patrons from infection. Which sucked, because you'd really wanted to stick around for the very beginning of the Friday night rush and get some payday tips. People are generous when they're high on the buzz of a forthcoming weekend, especially to over obsequious waitresses.

It had sucked worse when Junie came out of daycare in the best mood ever and demanded kisses. You'd had a headache the size of a tennis ball behind your eyes and didn't want to pass anything over, and the crushed look on her face had made you cry in the car on the way home.

Eddie dropped in particularly early that night with soup. "I had a feeling," he'd said.

And now here he is again the day after.

"At least one of us is enjoying this," you say.

"You think I'm enjoying this?" Eddie asks.

You give his precautionary outfit a once over. "Yes."

"This is just something I had lying around."

"Shut up! Shut up, no it wasn't!" You're voice cracks, giggly and giddy even with the spikes of pain to your tender head.

"It was. We did a campaign, I was a plague doctor-"

"That is in terrible taste."

"It was perfectly appropriate, thank you very much. You're determined to vilify me. Need to slow down with the cold medicine, I think."

You shriek as he tries to take the bottle. "No! No, please, my throat hurts."

He takes the bottle. It is a hurtful defeat. You curl your fingers around nothing and sulk, slouching down into a sanctuary of pillows and blankets to hide from him. Extra pillows provided by Eddie. With fresh covers, duh. They smell like him anyway. You turn your nose into it indulgently.

"You've had too much to safely be responsible for any further consumption."

"Further consumption," you echo, eyes closing in defeat as he leaves.

"You okay, June?" you hear him ask, voice occluded partially by the sound of the TV.

"Okay, Eddie?" she asks.

You grin to yourself.

"I'm great. This looks very fun. I'm gonna make mom a cold pack for her head and then you can help me make dinner, okay? Does that sound fun? Tell me, June."

The 'Tell me, June,' isn't a command so much as a gentle reminder that she can answer the question if she wants to.

"Fun," she says.

"Hey, great. Oh, thank you. Thank you."

They better not be cuddling without me, you think bitterly, grin swiftly replaced by a self-pitying frown.

You cough into your hand, roil in your own misery for a second and then grab the big glass of water Eddie had insisted on from the night stand. You tip it down yourself in your hurry.

"Missed your mouth," Eddie says, appearing at exactly the wrong moment.

"Don't baby me."

He pads into the room with a cold pack wrapped in a hand towel. "For your head."

"This is silly. I don't need to be in bed."

"Obviously you do. You're sick, did you notice? Stupid question," he adds regretfully, gesturing for you to lie back. He sets the pack to your forehead. "You wouldn't notice a hole in your stomach. You'd be dripping entrails in the freezer aisle wondering if Junie wants corn on the cob or mashed potato with dinner tonight."

"What does she want for dinner tonight?"

"Boo! Exactly my point."

"I'm gonna go ask her-"

Eddie puts an unapologetic hand in the middle of your chest and pushes down. "You will do no such thing." He lowers his face to yours. "I'm willing to get physical. So behave."

You flush with heat because you're sick and not because he says it a certain way, dropping back down into your fluffed pillows without another word.

Eddie's hand climbs up to your collar, your neck. His fingers slide one after another behind it. It's a blessed cold. You can't find a comfortable temperature today, moving between chills and hot flashes at the drop of a hat.

Or a bandana. Eddie unties the dark fabric from his neck and leaves it where it lands, staring at you without saying anything.

His thumb presses into your sore throat carefully, the barest hint of pressure, and his lips part. He doesn't say anything for a while. It looks like he wants to.

"Do me a favour?" he asks finally.

"Of course." Anything to feel useful right now.

"Take it easy." He again lowers his head, talking to you with a private smile. "The sooner you chill out, the sooner you'll beat this thing."

"Don't say that. Like I have something serious."

"The sooner you'll beat this moderate-"

"Mild-"

"-affliction." He strokes quarter-circles into your neck.

"I don't need to lie down. There's things I have to do."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yes. There's things I need to do everyday." You clear your throat. It's useless, the lump remains and your voice stays scratchy. "I have- I always have laundry. So that first. Gotta wash it and put it out and bring it in and press it. I gotta make sure Junie has lunch for daycare this week 'n if she doesn't I have to go get it, I gotta," — you cover his hand with your own thoughtlessly — "make sure her rash is getting better. And I promised we'd do a tea party tomorrow, I have to make sandwiches!"

"We both know she doesn't remember the tea party."

"I promised."

"And if I… If I tried to get all those things done, would you stay in bed?"

"You can't."

"But if I tried it? I can do laundry. I'm good at it. Get oil stains out of Wayne's coveralls every Sunday."

You slump into a lump of sadness and achy arms. "Don't do my laundry. Don't do any of that stuff. I'll punch you if you do."

Eddie bursts into laughter. "You'll punch me? You horrible woman."

"I will," you promise, fingers curling around his arm to hold him in place.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"I don't know. 'Cos you're a know-it-all who dislikes me."

"I far from dislike you." He grins at you, all dimpled and pretty. "I don't believe you'd hit me because I know you, idiot."

"Name-calling."

"Uh-huh. Are you sleeping or am I helping you out onto the couch?"

While you're happy for the compromise, you have one problem. "I don't think I can move."

Eddie lets his face fall amicably to your collar. "No, I bet you can't. More reason for me to get you on the couch. I think you've genuinely had too much cough syrup," he worries, warm breath fanning over your skin.

You bring your spare hand to his head. He has so many curls.

He lifts his head and you're close enough to kiss. There's no other reason anyone has ever been this close.

"I can see your beauty mark," you say, hushed. You don't wanna breathe on him too much.

"Freckle."

"Your freckle." You lift and drop his curls, fingers toying through the softness towards his roots, the frizz at the ends.

"You- You smell like fucking cherry syrup."

You abandon his hair to clap a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry."

He covers his own mouth. "It's okay," he says, similarly muffled. "I like the sweet stuff."

What the fuck does that mean? Your stomach doesn't flip — it leaps right up into your throat. "You're an idiot," you breathe, caught off guard.

"What was that?" he asks, taking away his hand. "Didn't catch it."

"I said, 'You're an-"

"Amazing friend and confidante?"

You try to talk and he says, "A real stand-up guy?"

You try again and he says, "A total rockstar? Baby, if you really think all this you should've said."

You flop completely onto your back, away from his hands, his jokes and his lovely brown eyes where they bore into your own. Eddie hums and rubs brashly over the top of your arm until the skin glows with heat.

"Please stay in bed," Eddie says as he stands.

Medicine or his touch, you're feeling pretty tired. You pull up your blankets and sink like a stone, head disappearing into a mess of pillows and throws.

It's much later when you wake. You move into the land of the living abrupt as whiplash.

Eddie seems very sorry. "Sweetheart, June's past due for a new diaper, and I-"

"Oh, right," you say, sounding much more alert than you feel. You're a girl made of sandpaper.

"I would've, I mean. If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable, I would've tried. But I've never changed a diaper in my life."

You scratch your flaky eyes, disorientated and head like a boiling saucepan with the lid glued on.

"That's okay," you say. Your voice refuses to cooperate with you, gruff and too quiet. "It wouldn't bother me, but it's also not your job, so… Um." You yawn wide and cover your entire face.

You spend a minute rubbing your eyes.

"Fuck, what time's it?" you ask, squinting at him and bringing your hands to either side of your face.

"Like, seven. Ish."

"Eddie…"

"I know. I thought you could use the rest. I knew you could. And it's not urgent, you know? Come around, first. Everything's stellar."

You peel back the sheets. You're a clammy, too-hot mess with weak legs.

Eddie sees you wobble and rushes to wrap an arm around your waist. Completely unnecessarily, heart-achingly kind. You wince at the dampness of your shirt under his touch.

Junie sits on the couch in her jammies with a yellow-green soup stain down the front. She's propped up like a princess, a pillow behind her head between the armrest and her blanket covering her legs, cheek pressed to the cushions. Eyes trained on the TV and her bottle propped in a slackening grip, your baby is peaceful, near luxurious.

Only a little wiggle might suggest she's uncomfortable.

You part from Eddie's side and sit down beside her, the seat warm. She doesn't even look up.

"What, no hi for mom?" you ask tenderly, hand falling to the top of her head. She's lovely.

She gasps, little lungs fit to burst. It's pure excitement, her bottle dislodged and the blanket pushed away immediately. She doesn't bother getting to her feet, throwing herself into your lap and assuming you'll do the rest. Of course you will. You pull her up and kiss the top of her head, though you quickly hold her at arm's length.

"Sorry, mommy's still sick," you tell her, sympathetic at her crushed expression.

"Mis'd," she says.

"Yeah? You missed me?" you ask hopefully.

Her lips part in comprehension. "Missed you," she confirms.

You throw your gaze over your shoulder to Eddie. He stands by Junie's changing station with a smug smile. "What?"

"You're not very convincing."

"I'm not trying to convince you, thanks," he says, holding up two hands in surrender.

"She didn't learn that herself," you argue.

"She might've. You tell her enough."

You go back to your girl, pleased at her own smug smile. "I missed you, too, I missed you so much. Missed you millions. Sorry I've been sleeping all day, you've been such a good girl. She has, hasn't she?"

Eddie sorts through a nearly empty bag of diapers and brandishes one with fish printed on the back. "Oh, yeah. Junebug's been amazing. She came in with me to see you earlier, took your temperature." You frown. "From a distance. Kind of. I held her above you. It was… acrobatic."

You close your eyes at his absurdity, your laugh prompting another spike of pain.

Junie forces herself closer and gets both arms around your neck.

You sag into the contact, defeated. "Aw, June," you mumble ruefully. "M'trying to make sure you don't get sick too. Wasting my time."

"Mommy," she says into your neck.

"That's me."

You know she has something she wants to say. You can't wait for the days where she can. Exciting, to think that one day she'll be able to share all of her thoughts.

Right now, she's probably thinking, Woah, mom, you smell weird. And you look weirder.

You feel her back with your hand and cringe. Definitely time to get her changed.

Afterward, you sit with your back to the open front door on one of the porch steps. Physical exertion of any kind seems to be inadvisable; you're sweating up a storm. Junie sits beside you at her own insistence, her hand clasped in your hand and her head on your arm. You look down at her thighs next to your own and marvel at their small size. The evening breeze is a blessing.

Eddie stands in front of you with his backpack slung over his shoulder and a checklist.

"Tea party sandwiches are badly made and saran wrapped in the fridge. Junie doesn't have lunch for Monday but I can go tomorrow if you want me to. Her clothes are folded in the hamper. Uh, some stuff got left out, you might need to press them. Not tonight though, please."

"Thank you."

He talks around a smile. "Soup's on the stove. I'll come back later, if-"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. I wouldn't actually leave, but-"

"Eddie-" You cough into your shoulder. He waits for you to finish. "You- You didn't have to take care of me."

"What does that mean? Of course I did."

He hikes his backpack higher up his shoulder and pads back up the steps, not all of them but enough for him to lean down and stare at Junie.

"Thanks for the best day ever," he says seriously, looking out of the corner of his eye at you. "Almost. See you later?"

Junie nods voraciously and reaches up with her empty hand. Eddie takes it and kisses her temple. He does the same to you, lips brushing soft as downy-feather over your skin.

"I'll come back around ten? Is that cool?"

"Don't knock too loudly," you mumble, very aware of his proximity.

He backs up and bows like an idiot, hand moving in circles.

You and Junie wave him off.

"To work?" Junie asks.

Your eyebrows jump as you pull your gaze from his retreating figure. "Huh?"

"To work?"

You play with her fingers. "No, he's not going to work. He's going to take care of someone else, now."

Wayne, Eddie said, in a fondly exasperated tone that explained everything you needed to know. His uncle's self-preservation must come in similar disinterest to himself as yours does to you.

"We'll see him tomorrow," you say. It's not even a lie, you will both see him tomorrow.

But apparently he's coming back tonight.

True to his word, Eddie Munson knocks your door carefully at nearing ten o'clock.

Wayne's dismissal chases his heels. He'd spent an hour worrying about you at the dinner table with his uncle, fingers curling anxiously in his hair.

Wayne had been talking about some gab the boys in the shop had heard about killer mice or killer lice or something when he'd suddenly cleared his throat and snapped Eddie to attention.

"You're a good kid. Notice how I said good, and not smart," Wayne had said.

"Gee, thanks. You always did know how to make a guy feel loved, Wayne."

"You don't wanna be here."

Eddie had frowned. "Obviously I do."

"Kid, what I mean is, you gotta," — he'd nodded his head hard to one side and raised his eyebrows — "you know."

"Haven't brushed up on my mysterious gestures lately. Translate that one for me?"

Wayne had flicked up his newspaper and sighed. "Don't be dumb."

"You keep saying that."

"You keep being dumb, boy."

"I don't know what you want me to do."

"Think you better go look after your girl, don't you?" Wayne had asked finally, clearing his throat.

So here he is to look after you. A tad early, worried you'll be sleeping on the couch with a misbehaving baby in your lap or passed out in the bathroom after an impromptu cleaning.

Thankfully, you open the door in different clothes than he'd left you in, the neckline dark with run-off and face damp under your eyes and by your ears. You dab at your tacky skin with your index knuckle.

"You look better," he says. He wishes he could take it back instantly, though you don't take any offence.

"Hot shower," you explain.

You step back to let him in. Eddie closes the door behind him without turning, eyes glued to your fresh face. He's depressed by the lingering fatigue he finds lining your darling features.

"You okay?" you ask him, perturbed by his silence.

Eddie's better than okay.

He steps close. You look like you might step back, make room for him he doesn't want, so he reaches out for your face and holds it in one hand, the other landing in tandem on your arm.

Your cheek lists into his hand as he wipes away what's left of the dampness on your face. He's not sure you know you're doing it.

"Did you take any more medicine?" he asks quietly, rubbing under your eye carefully with the tip of his thumb.

"No, I- I think you fixed me, Munson. Me and Junie had your soup, and after a shower I felt way better. It was really nice. She slept easy."

He presses the back of his hand to your forehead. "You don't feel too hot."

"Like I said. Fixed me. My hero."

He looks over your shoulder at your life — at his life, or at least where a majority of it seems to take place. All his favourite parts these days happen right there on your couch, or at that table, or knee to knee with a baby that isn't his but- but-

"You said that to me the first time we met," Eddie recalls, shaking his head. It's like there's water in his ears. A few strands of hair drift into his eyes.

You catch his elbows in both hands. "It feels like a really long time ago now."

Months. Only months. "I feel like I've known you for years."

He strokes over your face, chin to cheek, the tip of his thumb pressed to the corner of your mouth.

"That's how I feel, too," you whisper. Utter. Hushed, your words ring loud anyway. "You're my best friend."

Eddie doesn't take it for a door closing because it isn't. It's a door kicked wide open. Split on its hinges. You and Eddie stand on equal ground, and, for once, the same page.

"You know I don't mind taking care of you?" he asks, hand passing over your ear to hide behind it. He wants to see all of your face.

Predictably, you drop your eyes to his neck, pupils wobbling as you search for somewhere to plant yourself. "I know. I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Why wouldn't you deserve it? Everyone deserves taking care of."

"Even murderers?"

"Maybe not murderers-"

"The evil guys from your game? Necromancers?"

"They're not all evil." His left palm skirts up the curve of your neck, encouraging your face back to his. "Don't change the subject."

You press your lips together, caught.

"I actually…" — he gathers as much bravery as he has — "want to take care of you."

"You do."

He holds your face in both hands. "You know you- You know you started it, right? You know it's- that without your-" He cringes internally at his stammering, but he has to get this part right. "You have gold where your heart should be."

"Y/N The Golden Hearted. Doesn't have the best ring to it," you muse, hands clinging to the crooks of his elbows like twin pooled teardrops waiting to fall.

Eddie stares at you, floored.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" he asks.

"What's your name?" you demand, grinning.

"Eddie the Subtle. Munson the Mad."

You huff a laugh. "That's a cop-out."

"Maybe."

"How about…" The air feels thick as jelly. Light from under the bedroom door stops short of your legs, your toes almost touching. His rubber soles, your socks. "Eddie the Indomitable?"

He crinkles his nose. "I'd almost think you were trying to flirt with me, that's how bad that is."

Your blinks are slow. Your eyes soften.

"What if I was?" you ask.

A stock-still silence pervades, filled only by the hum of the refrigerator and the droning of the bathroom light, left on. He could tell you the contents of this room by its sounds alone.

His hand moves of its own accord, up and down the slope of your neck. "I'd say you needed a better pick up line."

"Like what?" you ask, chest rising too fast.

Eddie takes a step and feels his jacket zipper cut into the cotton of your shirt. It's your matching band t-shirt.

Eddie drags his gaze slowly to your widened eyes, your lashes as they move almost imperceptibly upward. Taking him in as he inches closer.

"You're so fucking pretty," he says.

He leans in. He closes the gap. Eddie Munson takes the leap.

Your hand comes quickly to his upper arm and you turn your face just enough to force his lips, his kiss landing a centimetre shy of your nose.

He struggles to keep his eyes closed. His heart thrums like a blown amp.

"You can't kiss me," you say. Eddie struggles to discern your tone.

His nose presses to yours. Not desperately, but almost. "I can't?" he asks, throat thick with emotion, a stickying, cloying taffy.

"I'll make you sick."

He turns your face with his palm, lips hovering above yours, a hair's width. Close enough to feel their heat.

"Can I trust you'll nurse me back to health, in the event that that happens?" Would you take care of me? His hands tremble where they're touching you. He's too scared to open his eyes.

You don't answer.

You cover his hands and the seconds stretch endlessly, a thousand moments of terror and pining and want suddenly flattened into one as you kiss him.

He exhales against you. His relief is a palpable, viscous thing as he pulls you in and his nose digs into yours. Lips soft as he'd imagined, as he'd known they'd be, you kiss back tentatively. Sweetly.

You're kissing him like he's something that needs a careful touch.

Eddie screws his eyes shut tight enough to see stars, firecrackers, a shattering bouquet of colours as you move beneath him. He can't believe he's kissing you. He can't believe there was a time where he wasn't.

He yields, leaning back just enough to see your face. You keep your eyes shut, your eyelashes kissing the delicate skin beneath. They move like blades of grass in the breeze as Eddie tries to catch his breath, regaining some of his composure. It's hard while he's here, this close.

You make a small sound, a breath like a barb. The shaky demarcation of tears.

"Okay?" he asks, more movement than sound. His lips skip over your own.

You have to feel it.

A laugh bubbles up through your parted lips like a hiccup. "I'm definitely gonna make you sick," you mumble regretfully.

"Make me sick, sweetheart," he says, begs. Whatever.

Whatever word you want to use. He doesn't care if he pays for it afterwards, he wants to be close to you now, unapologetically close. And kissing you — kissing you like this, your reciprocation, it's everything because it means you feel the same as he does.

Or a fraction the same. He's reassured either way. If you felt a fraction of what he felt, that's enough.

It's a lot. To be touching you, finally. He grabs at the nape of your neck and kisses, kisses, kisses. He goes slowly, not quite sweetly. He's never been as sweet as you have, never as soft or patient.

It doesn't feel like it matters.

You pull his hands from your face, press his and your own, all four hands to the collar of your shirt.

"It wasn't just a, uh, pick up line, was it?" you ask breathlessly.

"Wh- No." Eddie massages the back of your hands. "No, you're the fucking prettiest girl ever. I think you're aces. Killer. Everything."

"Everything," you say, an almost indecipherable glassiness to your eyes.

"Everything," he says. He spreads his hand over your heart.

You don't throw yourself at him, but you move alarmingly quickly. Arms over his shoulders, hands crossed and buried in his hair. Your laugh is magic, a bright and exuberant sound loud in his ear and then the skin underneath. He's barely got an arm around the small of your back when you start to kiss him, repetitive, chaste pecks over his pulse. It capers under your lips.

"I don't know what kind of girl you think I am-" He begins deadpan and breaks abruptly, your second wave of laughter impossible to ignore.

Your arms tighten at his laughing, palm cupping the back of his head.

"You're my best friend, too," he says. "But you knew that."

"Maybe," you murmur, your smile wide against his skin. You're uncharacteristically mischievous.

He lets his back bend under your weight until your heels lift and you're scrabbling to stay on your own two feet and is rewarded by your shrieking laughter.

Oh, god, he thinks, ecstatic.

"Wait," you say, bargaining for freedom as he squeezes you hard enough to make you laugh again, and again, "wait, wait! Wait, let go. I have something to tell you."

Eddie sets you down. He's reluctant to let you go, almost desperate to hug you now that he knows he can, but his curiosity gets the better of him. What could you have to tell him now that isn't confessional? It's like being promised something good.

You stand sure and sweet in front of him.

"It's…" You look shyly at his lips.

"What?"

"I…"

He shakes his head gently from side to side. "What? Tell me."

"Nothing," you say, beaming. Act dropped, you take his face into both hands and kiss him soundly.

Eddie's barely got his hands on you before you're pulling back.

"Just wanted to do that," you say.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter

if you enjoyed (i I really hope you did), please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x afab reader #mom!reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things fanfiction #fem!reader #Single mom!reader #reader insert

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mariclerc · 3 months

Text

An unexpected role (pt. 2) | cl16

Summary: you revealed your little secret to your date, you didn't expect he would take it so well.

Warning: none, a lot of fluff and a bunch of dad!Charles.

a/n: part two of “an unexpected role” this is a little bit long, I hope you like it! Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

“Mama, Chas... 'rrived!” said an excited Lily jumping up and down.

It had been a couple of months since you and Charles started dating, and he was like a breath of fresh air to your life, Lily adored him, he was her companion for adventures and bedtime stories. It was what your life was missing, although you both weren't officially a couple yet, you felt like one because you spent more time together in your apartment than anything else.

“Hi there my little flower! Are you ready for our afternoon together?” He said as he bent down to hug her, Lily nodded. “Hello you gorgeous!”

“Hi Charlie boo-boo!” you said as you approached him with a smile to give him a hug and a little kiss on the lips, act that made him blush a little. “Are you sure you don't mind going out alone with Lily? I could accompany you both.” you asked him and he denied.

“No my darling, stay here, consider it your day off... Besides, I'm sure Lily and I will have a great time, right princess?” he said and asked Lily, to which she nodded excitedly.

“Alright honey. Have a great time guys!” you said while smiling at them. “Bye Lily, have fun with Charlie!” you said as you waved your hand at your little girl.

Lily ran over to you to hug you and give you kisses on the face. “Bye mama! Love....you!” she said very effusively.

Charles smiled at you again as he waved his hand and took Lily's hand to leave the apartment without first closing the door. It had been a long time since you had an afternoon to yourself or a moment of relaxation, but you didn't complain, being a mother is a laborious task and you liked being the best version of yourself for Lily.

So you took advantage of having a moment of relaxation, you decided to go to the beauty salon, since you had a long time without going and get your haircut and nails done.

***

Meanwhile, Charles and Lily had arrived at the children's playroom that was in the shopping center, it was a quite colorful place with trampolines, tables to play and draw, and other fun things for kids to enjoy. Lily held Charles's finger tightly, as if she didn't want to be separated from him.

“What's happening my little peach? Don't you want to go play there?” he asked Lily with a soft voice, she denied. “It’s okay princess, we can do anything else you want!”

With that being said, he picked up Lily in his arms and started walking through the shopping center.

“Princess!” Lily said happily, Charles turned his head and saw a very flashy and cute princess store.

“Do you want to go in there princess?” He asked her with a little smile and she stretched her little hands towards the store. “I'll take that as a yes then. C'mon darling! Let's make some memories.”

Upon entering the store there were many girls dressed as little Disney princesses, some were playing and some of them left the store with some princess memorabilia, Lily started to move in Charles's arms so he placed her on the floor and took her little hand. One of the workers approached them.

“Oh, hello there! How can I help you?” said the worker who was wearing a tiara on her head, Lily began to point to the tiara on the girl's head.

“'tumes! Chas, princesses!” Lily said very happy smiling, Charles caressed her little head.

“Hello! Ehm... She wants to try one of the princess costumes, isn't that right princess?” He said and at the same time asked Lily, who just smiled, implying that she agreed with him.

“Then perfect! Follow me!” The worker said and began to guide them through the store, there were many things about princesses, costumes, toys, t-shirts with prints of the different princesses, it seemed like Lily's eyes were going to pop out, she giggled when she saw everything that was there.

They toured the princess store with the worker, who showed them absolutely everything until they reached a part where there were costumes for all the princesses. Lily was very happy and excited about this cute adventure with Charlie.

“We get to the part where the magic happens!” The girl said and Lily clapped her hands while giggling. “Well, little one, what would you like to dress up as?”

“'Ella! 'Ella!” Lily said as she jumped up and pointed at Cinderella's costume.

Saying that, the girl looked for a Cinderella costume for Lily, with her tiara and accessories, she took her to a fitting room where she placed the costume on her.

“Lilytunes, are you ready? I want to see you cutie.” Charles said as he looked towards the dressing room where Lily had entered.

Following that, Lily came out in a cute little Cinderella costume, she looked like an adorable little princess, Charles smiled when he saw her, she was the exact replica of her mama, so pretty and absolutely cute.

“I am a princess Chas! Princess!” Lily said, jumping around and smiling at Charles.

“But of course you are, my girl. A very pretty little princess!” He said as he took her little hand and made her spin around. “Let me take a picture of you to show mama later, okay?”

After that they continued seeing various things in the store, like stuffed animals of the princesses and their pets, and there were even little outfits for stuffed animals of which Lily wanted to take one for Mimi, the name of the stuffed bunny that Charles had given her when they met.

“Did you enjoy your afternoon little butterfly? Did you like going out with me today?” He asked as he gave her some of his strawberry milkshake.

She nodded while smiling at him. “Yes! Thank you dada!” She said giving him a hug, he hugged her back but he practically froze.

She had called him dad... She had called him that, he had imagined the distant possibility that she could call him that, but he never thought that she would say it so naturally, she was a very intelligent little girl for only being two years old, almost three in fact. He felt happy when he heard those little magic words.

***

“We're here!” He said as he entered the apartment holding hands with Lily and holding the bags with the little things he bought for her, as well as a bouquet of flowers and a pretty necklace he bought for you. “Oh god, love, stop looking so beautiful, you'll give me a heart attack with how pretty you look every time!” He said when he saw you, you looked pretty with your haircut and your new nails.

You just smiled and approached them. “But it is my favorite duo! How are you honey?” You asked as you gave him a small kiss on the lips. “And how is my little princess? Did you have fun with Charlie?” You asked Lily as you picked her up to fill her with kisses everywhere.

She nodded. “Yes mama! Dada took me to the world of princesses and... I have a 'ella costume!” she said while giggling.

Your eyes watered a little, you smiled when you heard her, you looked at Charles and he smiled while blushing a little, you know how much he loves and adores Lily, both of you actually.

“That's awesome sweetie!” You said as you gave her a kiss on the forehead. “I'm glad you had fun with Charlie!”

***

As bedtime approached, you went to tell Lily her bedtime story, just like you do every day, you and Charles sat near her bed, you smiled when you saw her hugging Mimi, who was now wearing a little Cinderella dress, just like Lily's.

“Alright little lady, it's time to sleep and dream!” You said with a smile as you placed kisses on her face and she giggled, it was your routine before bed.

“Good night my sweetheart! I loved hanging out with you today!” He said while also giving her little kisses on her face.

“Good night mama, good night dada! Luv youu!” She said goodbye to you while lengthening the last u.

As you walk back to the master bedroom, Charles can't help but feel happy and excited why Lily called him "dad", in her own way, but she did. He wanted to cry with happiness, maybe it wasn't there from the beginning, but it had arrived at the right time in your lives.

“So... Dada? You got promoted today!” You smiled.

“I think so... I can't ask for more, I didn't think Lily would call me that, it doesn't bother me at all that she does it, I feel like I've won a championship, as silly as it sounds.” He said as his eyes watered and he smiled.

“Hey, well, to me you're actually her dad. It's just... You take her for a walk, you buy her things, the night she got sick you were awake with her trying to calm her down, believe me, not everyone does that Charles.” You said and then kissed him on the lips, it was a slow kiss in which you overflowed all your emotions towards him. “You are even more of a dad than some out there, and you don't know how happy I am that you are the one made for us.”

At the end of the day, what started out as something so unexpected and kind of casual, became the most significant thing in your lives, which were now filled with a lot of color, laughter and a lot, a lot of love between the three of you, that even if there are no blood ties, love is enough to have a sincere and unique connection.

#formula one x reader #charles leclerc #f1 x you #charles!dad #charles x single mom #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles x mom #charles x reader #dad!charles leclerc

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wineauntie · 3 months

Note

omggg you could you maybe do little blurbs or headcanons for quinn x single mom reader? for example how sweet of a dad figure quinn would be for evie on valentine’s day and spoiling her rotten? btw love your writing so much!!

HEADCANONS — Quinn Hughes x single mom!reader

based on this one shot

note: Oh, no need to ask twice, I love Quinn x single mom reader with my whole heart. This includes how you guys met, Quinn meeting Evie and all the cute inbetweens!

warnings: a tiny little suggestive content halfway through but nothing major- sex is implied, fem!reader, just tooth rotting fluff for the rest of it.

Quinn knew he loved you from the moment he’d met you.

You and Quinn had a meet-cute. Meaning, he physically ran into you outside a coffee shop, causing all of your coffee to spill down his front.

He remembered cursing in shock only to turn into a flustered mess when you began to apologise and offer him tissues. That drama turned into him asking to buy you another coffee to which you agreed.

You hadn’t known who Quinn was or why some people had stared as he ordered you a coffee (You 100% just assumed it was because he was attractive)

You two talked for just over an hour before you parted ways (his number securely in your pocket as you went).

And the rest is history

You went on a date with him to a restaurant downtown. During this date you brought up the fact you had a daughter and that if that was a problem, then he should leave.

Quinn stayed. To him, it didn’t matter if you had a child.

You’d left the date blushing like a school kid whose crush had admitted to liking them back.

The two of you took it slowly, but around two months into your relationship, when Quinn asked you to be his girlfriend, you knew it was time to introduce him to Evie.

Evie, who was two at the time, had no idea who the man was holding her mom’s hand. She ended up throwing her teddy at him before running straight between your legs to hide.

Quinn had brought Evie pink and purple flowers after being told they were her favourite colours.

Evie had never been given flowers and instantly began to like Quinn.

I can just imagine Quinn crouched down introducing himself and Evie giggling.

“Oh hello, I’m Quinn,”

“Win.”

You’d stifle a laugh at Evie’s attempt to say his name.

“Yeah, Quinn!”

Quinn would be so unphased by Evie being unable to say his name, even when Evie began to call him Winnie, he secretly loved it.

Quinn became a constant in you and Evie’s life. He’d come to see you and Evie almost every day, or at least as much as his schedule would let him.

Evie would be obsessed with him, and Quinn? Oh, he adored being around you and her.

Evie would babble nonsensical words mixed with a few normal words and he’d nod and talk back to her, holding a conversation.

And don’t even think Quinn is above having tea parties with Evie because he is the one who suggests them.

I imagine you running to collect the post from your building's postbox only to come back and hear giggling from the living room.

You would find Quinn sitting cross-legged on the floor with a tiara and a sparkly pink cape opposite Evie in a princess dress and obnoxiously large sunglasses.

You had to take a picture before entering and joining them. That picture was your lock screen for so long.

Quinn more often than not spent the night at your apartment.

You’d given up a few drawers so that he could keep some things in your place.

It was easier to meet in your apartment because all of Evie’s things were there but the times you and Evie went to his apartment? those were like going on holidays for Evie.

Quinn’s apartment was considerably bigger than yours and when he’d begun to date you, he changed one of his two guest rooms into a room for Evie.

So imagine your surprise when you brought Evie over for the first time and found an entire princess-themed room filled with toys just for Evie.

You’d cried and Quinn had nervously scratched his head until you’d hugged him and thanked him for being so kind.

Evie had loved her room and begged you to stay over more.

And so when Quinn had asked you to move in with him a few months later, you’d jumped at the opportunity.

Quinn had surprised you with over fifty bundles of your favourite flowers as a ‘welcome home’ gift.

Your parents offered to watch Evie overnight to allow you and Quinn time to sort out the apartment.

Let’s just say the two of you christened the house…in multiple places…multiple times.

You’d curled up that night beside Quinn that night and had basked in the glow of your new home.

You’d already spent a Valentine’s Day with Quinn but at that stage, he hadn’t met Evie yet.

On Valentine’s morning, Quinn woke up at eight o’clock to make you and Evie a special breakfast— pancakes with a variety of toppings.

He’d gently woken up Evie and carried her into your room, placing her gently beside you. You’d barely stirred as Quinn pressed a loving kiss to your forehead whilst Evie cuddled close to your side.

He returned ten minutes later with breakfast, to which Evie and you had laughed and dragged him down into a one-handed hug.

He had sat down on the end of the bed and ate with the two of you, his eyes gleaming as the two of you enjoyed the food. (He’s an acts of service kind of guy and, hell, moments like those made his heart swell).

After the three of you had gotten ready, Quinn surprised you both with flowers. He was taking you out for dinner that night and in order to lessen Evie’s fear of missing out, he’d bought her a few gifts.

“It’s a bracelet,”

“That’s my name!”

You’d never forget how Evie beamed at the silver as Quinn clasped it onto her little wrist.

“And these are so you can come onto the ice with me,”

Quinn had bought her tiny black skates with pink lining, specifically for teaching Evie to skate as she’d begged him to for so many weeks.

Evie had been so overwhelmed by glee that she’d burst with excitement and lunged toward Quinn for a hug.

Quinn really is the best dad figure for Evie. He cares for her so wholeheartedly and so unwaveringly.

This man is so protective over her and you, it’s ridiculous.

Evie would come home with you from doing an odd shop and tell Quinn all about how some man was talking to you– he’d been flirting and you’d rejected all advances.

“And I throw bag of pasta at him, Winnie!”

“Atta girl! Good job!”

The two of them would high-five before Quinn would grab Evie and jostle her around as she laughed.

Quinn would be so protective over Evie in a way that made your heart so full.

Evie would come skipping home one day claiming that she and Tommy from school were married.

Quinn would immediately spring into dad mode and begin questioning who this boy was, what was his full name, where is he from, what’s his parents’ names, etc.

You would laugh off this protectiveness as Quinn stubbornly pouted at the lack of responses from Evie.

Quinn had gone to every parent-teacher conference with you, every recital or school event and every career day.

In fact, Evie became one of the most popular people in class when they found out that her ‘Q’ was a famous hockey player.

(Evie had begun to reference Quinn as her ‘Q’ since she was able to pronounce them at three. She knew Quinn wasn’t her dad but her 'Q' was basically the same.)

She began calling him dad when she was four and Quinn melted. You were overjoyed that your daughter had someone other than you to trust and love like a parent.

Evie asks Quinn why he always has ‘boring’ colours on his hockey stick, so he always wraps one stripe of pink tape around it in honour of Evie. (Then another stripe the same colour as your eyes just above it.)

When you’d brought Evie to her first hockey game, Quinn had gotten her a custom ‘Winnie, 43’ jersey. He’d also given you a Hughes 43 jersey, which he all but demanded you two wear to your first game.

Quinn had scored two goals that evening and dedicated both goals to his girls up in the box.

You and Evie had cheered so loudly for him and after the game, the three of you had headed home and celebrated with a movie night.

All in all, Quinn loves the little family he found and you guys love him just as much.

As you might be able to tell, I am OBSESSED with father figure! Quinn. I love him too much and would be more than willing to turn this into a series, I can’t lie <333

#wineauntie #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #hughes brothers x reader #nhl x reader #i love quinn hughes what a man #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes fanfic #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes #father figure!quinn hughes #x reader #quinn hughes x single mom!reader #family is family universe

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fleurrreads · 2 months

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hi hi hi! could you write something for charles leclerc x single!mom!reader? maybe her son ( or daughter or both ) both him for the first time and they're all protective over their mom, and she has to leave them alone for sometime and when she finds them they're bonding? this probably does not make sense but oh well have something to eat and some water if you haven't in the last hour! and can i be 🎧 anon, if it isn't taken already? my pronouns are she/her and i'm 18!

an: i had a lot of fun writing this one, and i think it has a special place in my heart forever ♡ i’ll add you to the list! welcome lovely 💫

You’ve been seeing Charles for about four months now. In that time you haven’t introduced him to your son — Cody, who is seven. You were worried about him meeting your boyfriends and them leaving, which would mean they also leave him behind. So none of your boyfriends have ever met Cody.

Charles knows about Cody though, and vice versa. You’re currently dressing up to go out on a date with Charles as Cody sits on your bed, little feet dangling from the side. “You look so pretty mommy. Are you going on a date today?” The little boy rubs his eyes, visibly exhausted from the day. He has a lot of energy during the day and then he winds down and passes out by nine. He’s a lot like you in that sense.

You sit down on your bed next to him, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Thank you baby. Yes I’m going on a date with Charles today. He’ll be here soon to pick me up.” You see the gears turning in his little head, and he meets your eyes. “Do you trust him?” He asks, fiddling with the hem of your dress. A nervous tick he got from you no doubt.

“Yes angel, I trust him more than anyone. Do you want to meet him and see for yourself?” The only way Cody will be less worried about you is if he met Charles and saw for himself that he was a good guy. He nods, gathering himself up and running to the living room where Scooby Doo is playing on the tv, the babysitter that you got for tonight was still on the way so you wouldn’t be able to leave before she arrived.

You hear the distinctive sound of Charles’ car coming to a stop in-front of your house when you see Cody’s head shoot up, looking through the curtain at the car that stopped in front. “Woah” You hear him softly whisper to nobody in particular. You smile , making your way towards the front door to let Charles inside.

Charles looks absolutely incredible, not too fancy and not too casual. He kisses you on the cheek, aware of the little boy now sitting on the couch looking warily at him. “Hello my love, are you nearly ready to go?” He looks at Cody, smiling at him. “Hello Cody. It’s nice to officially meet you.” he shakes the little boy’s hand.

Cody smiles softly, “It’s nice to meet you, uncle Charles.” Your heart warms at the smile on Charles’ face. You walk to the bedroom. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I just need to finish getting ready.” You sit down at your vanity, trying to finish your makeup as fast as you can to not leave Cody with Charles too long. You know Cody isn’t always comfortable at first with people, and you don’t want him to feel like that with Charles.

In the living room Charles hunches down to Cody’s level. “What’s wrong Cody? Did I do something wrong?” He wants to make a good impression on him, because he sees you and him being together for a long time. Cody looks at him with big eyes. “Do you really like my mommy?”

Charles’ heart aches as he looks at Cody. He’s trying to protect your feelings before you can get hurt. He’s probably seen you come back from other dates either absolutely exhausted or crying.Charles realises that Cody just doesn’t want you to go through that again.

Tears are now prominent on the little boy’s waterline as Charles gives his arm a reassuring squeeze. “I love your mom. She’s an incredible woman and I’d like to spend a long time making her happy. She means a lot to me, you know. And I’d like to make you happy too. I was thinking that we could go on a drive tomorrow if you’d like. We can go get ice cream and stop by any shop you want.” Charles notices the hint of excitement in Cody’s eyes. He also sees the relief in the little boy’s face, hearing Charles speak so lovingly about his mom.

Cody grins at him, “I’d love to! Your car is really cool. Does it go really fast?” Question after question falls from the little boy’s mouth, his excitement not contained anymore. Charles chuckles, sitting down on the couch next to Cody, answering every question he’s got.

You finally emerge out of the bedroom, hair done nicely, makeup finished as you make your way to the living room where you find no Charles and no Cody. How odd. As you begin searching you hear giggles coming from the kitchen and your heart swells at the image you see as you peek around the corner.

Cody’s sitting on the counter, a pancake in his mouth, laughing at Charles who’s attempting to flip the pan expertly as to flip the pancake around. He failed miserably as the pancake misses the pan and splats on the floor. Cody laughs loudly. “You’re so silly Charlie.”

A nickname. Cody gave Charles a nickname. You feel your heart ache as you smile at them. Charles has a faint flush to his cheeks when he spots you in the hallway, a smile on your face. “What’s going on in here? Are you burning my house down, Cha?” Cody turns his head to you, still happily snacking on a pancake that didn’t fall to the floor. “We’re making pancakes! Do you want one mommy?” Cody offers you a plate with a smiley-faced pancake and you can’t help but laugh. “Sure, thank you baby.” You sit down at the counter, enjoying the moment with them.

Charles made you call the babysitter to cancel. “Why would we go anywhere else when this is where I could only dream to be.” He took your hand as you’re now sitting on the couch. Cody sitting on his other side, you see Charles holding his hand as well. Your heart swells at the image, and you realise that this was what you’d dreamed of as a little girl. A perfect family.

“We can go on a date another day this week. This moment is more important.” Charles whispers, giving you a small kiss and continuing to watch the cartoons on tv.

You realise that this is how you’d be able to spend forever. With them. With Charles.

reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! ★

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x single!mom!reader #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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a-small-safe-place · 6 months

Text

Homelander x SingleMom!Reader

Building a Family

Homelander was walking to the daycare inside Vought. He did not think he would ever have to come down here, but he couldn't leave Ryan alone, and Ryan expressed clear displeasure about having to sit in Ashley's office. Ryan complained that Ashley smelled weird. Homelander understood what his son meant. Ashley consistently reeked of anxiety and fear. Of course, Ryan wouldn't recognize those smells; he was only ten years old. Homelander felt a pang of jealousy at Ryan's childhood innocence. He never had that opportunity. Dr. Vogelbaum and the rest of the scientists who raised him in the lab made sure of that.

Homelander entered the daycare area, and the few children left were chattering away. A little girl wearing a Homelander shirt ran up to him, giggling and reaching for him as if she wanted to be picked up. Homelander brushed past the girl and headed to the area for older children. Ryan walked over with a shy and somewhat awkward smile on his face. Homelander asked, "Hey, buddy, are you ready to head back up?" Ryan didn't say anything; he just nodded in response. Homelander understood that Ryan was probably overstimulated from being around screaming kids all day.

As they were walking out of the daycare are Homelander noticed the little girl from earlier hugging onto your leg while you chat with a daycare attendant. He recognized you as one of the top professionals on Vought's legal team. You were attractive, for a human, but you were still a human, even though your non-disclosure agreements had practically saved the image of the Seven. The little girl spotted Homelander and ran to him, clinging to his leg. You quickly scolded the girl, saying, "Sweetie, get off of him!" Homelander flashed his classic smile and lifted the little girl off his leg, while Ryan watched, somewhat annoyed and eager to go home. Homelander reassured you, saying, "It's alright; I'm glad to see I'm still popular with the kids."

You reached out for your daughter, saying, "She just really likes you. She has one of those huggable Homelander dolls and sleeps with it every night." Ryan quietly asks his dad if they can leave. Homelander seemed amused by your young daughter being a big fan of his and replied, "Oh, really? She must be my biggest fan, then." Homelander waved dismissively at you and your daughter, saying, "You two ladies have a nice night."

That night, Homelander thought about you. Perhaps you were more attractive than he had initially thought, and he couldn't help but notice your good physique. Even if you were just a human you could still be useful. You clearly possessed some good qualities and had the aptitude to be a good mother for Ryan if the situation arose. He decided to keep an eye out for you because he couldn't afford to appear desperate and let you know he was attracted to you. After all, he was Homelander, and you should come to him. However, your presence began to consume his senses and thoughts.

He smelled your perfume and your natural scent in the halls of Vought, heard your voice above all others, and occasionally saw you through the floors, unintentionally getting an up-skirt view when he used his X-ray vision to look up through the floors in your office. But you weren't showing any interest in him, which irked him more than anything. Homelander considered himself a god, and he believed that any woman would want him if given the chance. So, why weren't you pursuing him or trying to arrange to see him again when picking up your daughter from daycare?

Fed up with the situation, he stormed into your office. "What the hell is wrong with you?" he asked in an aggressive tone. You responded with uncertainty, "Sorry?" not sure what he was talking about.

"Don't play fucking cute. You've been avoiding me. Are you a lesbian? Or, God forbid, celibate?" Homelander inquired with furrowed brows. You didn't know how to respond. This man had the power to do terrible things, and saying the wrong thing could be disastrous for you and your daughter. Homelander continued, "I can't believe a woman like you is passing up the chance with someone like me. We're not even in the same league. No, I won't accept it. I'm coming to your house tomorrow, and we're having a date. Find a sitter for your daughter; just make sure she's not there. Nothing ruins the mood more than a child running around. If things go well, we can introduce our children to each other at the right time and become one big happy family."

With that, he left, without asking for your address or inquiring about your relationship status. You were shaken up, but at least you were still alive.

#homelander x you #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #homelander x single mom #singlemom!reader #mom reader #the boys x reader #the seven x reader #the seven #the boys #male x reader #male x female reader #female reader #reader x homelander #reader x character #this was yandere x reader but i didnt know if this would classify as a yandere fic

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yellowelectroslime · 2 months

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Can you do headcanons or a fic for Alastor being involved with a single mother? The idea is based on the fic https://archiveofourown.org/works/47489320/chapters/127929073?view_adult=true <- but if you want to do it from before he dies that’s cool

[notes: i love human alastor so im gonna do that :D also im so invested in that series now but its not completed yet FRICK thank u tho]

OK SO LIKE-

Alastor is a GENTLEMAN he will treat all women RIGHT

I think its BASICALLY cannon (not really) that alastor grew up as a mama’s boy with an abusive/bad/absent father right?

He hates the fact that there are some husbands who would LEAVE their wives to take care of a child

THE NERVE OF SOME PEOPLE disrespectful

Alastor is known for his amazing chivalry, so obviously he would be the one to step up and help you

U worked at the same radio station as an assistant on the sidelines so u and alastor knew each other and were pretty close

He knew that u were dating someone and he knew when u were pregnant

he would be lying if he said he wasnt a little jealous and sad

when he heard that you’re “boyfriend/husband” broke up with you and left you by yourself while u were 7 months pregnant

let me tell you this.

he was FURIOUS

he probably killed the guy and ate him that very night lol

the next day was a day off for both of you so he showed up at your doorstep with a bag of groceries and another bag of your favourite comfort food

your heart MELTED but you wouldn’t let yourself love after what happened with HIM

it took some time for u to open yourself to love again and BOY was it a good idea

Alastor 100% would cook for u 🫶 (cough cough ahaha.)

will take care of u and the child :D and wont let anything bad happen to either of u

overall: 999999/10 dad (he’s loosing the 1 point cuz……. he’s alastor.)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #human alastor #alastor #radio demon #x reader #idk how to write single mom!reader im not a mom 😨#alastor x reader #headcannons

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alwaysshallow · 2 months

Text

single mom x price; PART 3

where john, for the first time, enters your house. and, pushes the boundaries.

AO3 VERSION

part 1 || part 2

It’s impossible to avoid him.

Not like you try to do it, not after the amazing fiasco with your car, not after having to face him about parking somewhere different. It would be not only stupid, but also weird considering that he seems like a… really good man. You don’t have anything against him.

On the road, you decide that since you’re a big girl, you shouldn’t be that opposed to the idea of meeting from time to time with him. It’s just a neighbor-neighbor relationship, nothing more, nothing less. Not like you automatically offer yourself to him by just being nice.

And, friendship with him can be beneficial, as he’s known as a local handyman.

Like he’d actually read your thoughts, he’s right there when you come back from your son’s school. This time, not half-naked—you think about it with a weird dose of disappointment, like you’d prefer him more without clothes—but in sweatpants and a matching hoodie, coffee in hand. Two, to be more precise, fairly cute with heart imprints on them.

“Coffee for the trouble,” he says, handing you a warm cup. Smile on his lips, the brightest it can be, so you don’t even think before taking a sip. “I hope I’m not a complete jackass in your eyes?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Jackass?”

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. Almost shy; you don’t know him, so you assume he is somehow. What you do not know; he’s more like a dog that pretends to be shy after he did something bad. Making you draw attention towards him. “Acted like that, maybe.”

The sincere concern in his voice is cute. “No, it’s… you had no idea after all, right? You didn’t know it was my car that you’re blocking, could be anyone’s.”

He just hums at that, acknowledging your response. You stay with him outside for a few more minutes, then leave with a vague explanation of what you need to do inside. And, you promise to see him tomorrow, if you’re lucky.

A mistake. It just encourages him more and more.

He starts bringing you coffee after this morning. Makes a ritual out of it, bringing you always the same coffee that made the best impression on you with the taste and freshness. He asks, too—if you need something different, if you need something a bit more fancy. Brags about his coffee machine and finally making the use of it, if you want.

You don’t see how his eyes glimmer when you say, “the simplest is the best”.

Price’s a good company. Cracking jokes, chatting, telling you just a little about himself, making you more curious with every meeting.

Always so close to you. You think you know every little wrinkle by now, how his eyes crinkle in the corners when he laughs, when he smiles. Small mannerisms that make you soften, wonder what a guy like him was doing in the military.

Naive thought. Everyone has a mask.

The two of you always drink coffee outside. He’s respectful enough to not enter your house or ask about it, probably thinking that he’s gonna pry. You’re always somewhere around the mailbox, your car or you invite him on a bench near your house, closer every day to the inside.

He’s always outside, but seems like he wants to go inside. You catch his glances over your shoulder as he towers over you, leaning over your fence or when he looks back at the house. Longing stare, like he wants something from here, a part of your life that he could have, a part of the life that he might understand better when he’s gonna enter the house. But, he doesn’t ask.

Yet. You feel like he’s gonna do it in the near future, as he gets tired of just being in front of your house where nothing happens for outsiders.

You learn over days that he’s there and he’s not going anywhere. When you are back from your son’s school, he’s already there. Saying something about mowing your lawn and as you actually need it, you bite back the “I can handle that alone” argument. Maybe he’s just nice. Maybe it’s a chance for once to not do everything yourself, at least you think.

He’s like a scent that sticks to you and no matter how you want to wash it off, to smell different, to smell like you again, you simply can’t. He makes everyone know that he’s around you and no one else is allowed to be whatsoever. Marks the territory: a dog that finally had his bone and doesn’t want to give it away, even if no one seems like they want to snatch it.

People aren’t blind; they see how he lingers, a stain of coffee on your perfectly white tablecloth. Something that you can take care of, but it will be there, if you have a mug a bit cracked. If it will be coming back, just like he does. You don’t see anything wrong with that. Neither does he; you’re a couple of friends—

He has no desire to stay away these days. Denise from the store asks you about that; softly, afraid to scare you, like you are some kind of untamed animal or someone like that. Fragile.

She brings it up over a dinner invitation, asking if she has to bring one more plate than usual; it’s innocent question and you don’t catch the double meaning in her words when you say, “Only me and my boy.”

She nods. A few seconds of silence pass between you two and you know for a fact there’s something in this silence. Something that you don’t quite enjoy because it’s gonna hit your personal life, so carefully hidden beneath all of the layers. “No John?” she peeks at you.

You stop in your tracks to look at her. Confused what your neighbor has to do with a friend's dinner that he didn’t belong to earlier on. Maybe you missed a chapter? He doesn’t even talk with Denise. “Why John would…”

“...you are spending a lot of time together. Figured it’s only right to ask, y’know. But no worries!” She says it, almost in a hurry, like you would scold her for even thinking about it. Before you have a chance to ask further, she says goodbye and you’re left with your own thoughts.

Is it that visible to the others? Are you gonna be invited to the things together now, like you’re some kind of pack? Do you act like there’s something more to it? Maybe it is, maybe you just don’t see it yet. Maybe you don’t want to see it because you’re scared of what you’re gonna see.

A mess that he comes with. A mess that he wants to hide too. He can’t let himself scare you, not yet—

Who actually knows. You don’t even know it.

Your kid also likes Price. Seeing him before school, after school when he’s outside. Eager to go and talk to him, but limiting himself to only wave towards him, at which John gives him the biggest smile ever and waves too. Small talk there and there, little steps towards inevitable—an ask from your kid if he’s ever gonna come and play with him.

He says one day something about other boys and them getting to play with their dads, so he could play as well with Price, your friend. You pretend that it doesn’t hurt you deep, so you just smile awkwardly, saying something about asking John about it someday. Sooner than later because you just can’t erase the sound of your son, sounding disappointed when he said what he said.

The routine continues and extends to some point. Price tiptoes around you, slowly breaking the barriers you set for yourself. Helps you plant flowers “because it’s only right”, takes care of your garden with you when it gets too tiring or when your son yells for you and John says that, “you can’t let the little one down, can you?”. Reminds you of a garden competition that you forgot about, when you ask why he is still here.

He’s around a lot more, but still outside.

A small significance about this detail doesn’t occur to you yet.

The perfect picture has to crack at some point; and unfortunately it does in the worst time that it could—on a completely random day. The moment you start your car to pick up your son from his school, the car makes weird noises. Nothing ignites the way it should, no matter how many times you turn your key, no matter if you even try to push harder. You even look up a random youtube video tutorial, but it doesn’t make a difference. It won’t start anyway.

And, just like that, you attract the audience—John Price himself—who shouts something to you. You try to ignore him, as you don’t have time for him right now, but he’s persistent, watching you as you hit the gas pedal; and it’s completely useless considering your car doesn't even start.

“Tryin’ to hit me with the car this time?” he taunts, giving you that perfect smile he always has when he tries to make you smile too. This time it doesn’t work, maybe makes you even more miserable in the whole situation.

You manage to give him a weak smile though. Forced one, while you try to get your car to start, even more encouraged right now to get it started; you don’t want help, you don’t want him to notice how much you struggle right now. And it would happen again, like he’s a magnet for bad things happening to you, so he could swoop in and play the hero.

Which, of course, sounds absurd.

Much to your dismay, he opens the door quickly, a considerate smile on his lips. “C’mon, sweetheart. What’s happening there?”

“My car isn’t starting. As you see,” you add, a little bit aggressive; maybe too aggressive, as you see how his eyebrows furrow. You can’t do anything about your tone, even if you somehow want to, as you feel too helpless and pent up. Like you’re losing control. “Listen, John. I swear to God, I don’t have time—”

“No need for attitude, love.”

The sudden comment makes you gulp. Maybe you might have added too much attitude, maybe reacted too aggressive and he’s way too sweet to deserve it, but it’s not the worst thing to worry about right this second. "I— God, I’m sorry, but my kid ends the class in ten minutes, I just can’t—" you sigh, massaging your temples. It’s like nothing you’re going to say will be right and not considered straight up rude.

He takes a second before answering. "We'll take care of everything," he tells you. That word—we—makes you giddy. The way he says it, so firmly, not leaving even a pole of a discussion for you. “Gonna drive you here, then look at your car.”

You bite your lip, conflicted. “You probably have better things to do. I can just borrow your car, it’s only a ten minute drive.”

“You thought I’d let you drive like this? Nervous? ‘m not the man.”

The sentence itself makes you embarrassed. Weird, bad on the stomach that you actually thought like this. “I’m not—”

“—Get in the car.”

You don’t even try to argue anymore, so you just nod. Without any further question, you follow him to his pick up truck, sitting on the passenger's seat, while your knight in the shiny armor picks the country song to play along the way.

You don’t miss how happy your kid looks when you pick him up with John. It’s not a very different reaction from the times you pick him up alone, but right now? Right now you see the sparkle in his eyes. The actual excitement, how he’s not usually tired as he is, telling you what he learned today with a half-lidded eyes, when you automatically feel bad for engaging in a discussion with him. No.

He’s practically getting out of his seat to be closer to Price, you have to remind him that he needs to be still so he’s gonna be safe. He tells him all about his school, what teachers teach him, what his favorite activity is, getting even more excited when John acknowledges what he said. Your son is practically in heaven when he asks him questions, he answers them all with a big smile on his lips, showing his front teeth. He’s not used to a man figure being around, not used to someone else than you, his grandma or your best friend.

John stops for ice cream, first in the season. You’re opposed to that idea, trying to explain to him that’s probably way too cold for that, but all it takes is his one hand on your cheek. Big, covering practically the half of your face, like he’s telling you, without opening his mouth, that he knows what he’s doing. He asks, his voice low, if you can make an exception for him. Because it’s the first time you’re here with him and your boy. Because he wants to make him feel special. Weirdly overwhelmed, but also feather-like, you agree.

You never let your kid eat ice cream before it gets warmer.

He doesn’t let you pay; he’s faster with his credit card, flashing you a smile, when you squirm about being so kind to you two. Price waves his hand at that, like the idea of being too kind isn’t an option.

You decide to eat outside, near the fountain in the park; better than doing it in the car, more bonding as Price said. Your son continues the blabber about his school with John, who gets quiet after the little man tells him that he told his friends about him, how he built a treehouse just for him the other day. Like it wasn’t enough, he mentions them being jealous of a “such a cool dad”. You know that the word is accidental, innocent as the kid doesn’t really have a dad, a father figure like John and when he’s here, it seems… inevitable to call him like that.

You’re a bit afraid that the information might overwhelm him, even if you personally don’t see it as a deep comment, especially from the child. John is funny, likes to spend his time around you two, but it might feel like a commitment or some sort.

But then you notice a weird look in his eyes. Primal, beaming with pride, almost like it’s the moment that he can officially claim him as his. It’s ridiculous to be proud of something like that, so you take that thought away, listening to John say something about “making another treehouse together” and spending time with his friends, taking them to ice cream, if he would want to.

Almost like a son with his father, really. It’s maybe ridiculous, but…

But. But. But.

Sometimes you think that they are similar. It’s not about the looks—maybe a bit, considering that your son has just as blue eyes as Price, and a smile that could steal a million stars—but about mannerisms. Without even thinking, he picks up certain behavior, a hand on a hip when he’s not really pleased with something or scratching his jaw and slightly tapping his chin if he’s thinking.

Simple, didn’t catch your eye at first, but it hit you when you have a certain comparison.

John is back the same day. Standing right in front of you at your porch with his famous toolbox that you have seen around many times; before you even get to ask him why is he here, he explains, “can’t leave you like this. Would be wrong,” and you automatically feel your knees weaken.

Seems like you can’t get rid of him this easily right now.

First steps into your house are slow. You don’t really pay attention to this, but John takes a good look around, observing like a hawk what you have. The pictures of you and your son are practically everywhere, there’s a little mess in the living room, showing that you indeed have a kid—he notes everything in his mind.

And he notes how much of attention to detail you have, yet, still hasn't said anything about him being so curious.

Like an omen, the cupboard you repaired a while ago, falls down to the floor. Thank God there was nothing inside.

“Seems like it will need my hand too,” he says, looking at you. There’s concern in his eyes, but also a weird gleam, like the prospect of spending more time here is actually exciting for him. “Gonna be here for a while, eh? Coulda told me sooner, love, ‘bout this shit.”

“Yeah. It… needs to be fixed, but I thought I’d… take care of it,” you murmur, bashful. The feeling that you know a little too well around John Price; that monstrous man who probably would’ve killed you barehanded. At the same time, he’s the nicest man. Seems like the nicest man at least; that’s what your local research told you. Behind it all, he is…perfect.

Maybe that’s why you don’t want to believe that he wants to be around you without any hidden meanings behind it.

He stops in your garage. “S’not trouble at all, sweetheart.” He leans down a little, his eyes locked on yours. You don’t even notice how his hand is dangerously close to your face, fingers playing with a loose strand from your bun, made a little hastily before he even came here. “Let me do everything. Take care of you. And you do your thing, I’ll be here.”

You frown. Maybe it’s not the worst idea to leave him be, but for some reason, it doesn’t feel right—leaving him in your garage. “You’re completely sure you don’t need help? I mean, I can take care of—”

“—I’ve got you, mama. Do your thing,” he whispers out. Sweet and affectionate. Giving you the sense of comfort, reassurance that he’s perfectly capable of whatever he’s gonna do with your car right now. “You wanted to make something for a little man, then do it.”

“Okay,” you say, your tone low too. His smile reaches his eyes now, as he kisses your temple, then, like it’s nothing, moves under the machine. You look at him dumbstruck, like someone hit you a moment before with a baseball bat.

Normally, you’d say something about it. How inappropriate it is, how you’re not even close, not to mention that you’re not his to be treated like that, but it’s John that you think about. A man that’s kind enough to repair your car, so you just back out to your house, throat tight, fingers clutching at the end of your hoodie.

Even if it seems inappropriate, you can’t say that it’s not nice—because it is. The thought of someone taking care of you, giving it all in bigger and smaller gestures. Making everything seem so easy with him, easier than doing it alone.

And you’re used to doing things alone, so maybe that’s why it’s kind of hard to get used to his presence.

Thoughts flow by, when you make chocolate muffins. Your kid’s favorite—and what you learn after, John’s favorite too. He eats them as eagerly as your six year old, who is dirty with chocolate all over his face. You make a mental note to make them less moist later, so you’re not gonna be occupied with cleaning in the future.

Price licks the surfeit of chocolate off his fingers when he’s done. Slowly, taking his time to do it right. You think you might go insane when he holds your gaze the entire process, the corner of his lips twitching. Something in your head tells you that he gets off on it, to the thought of how shy you are if it’s coming down to him, to his actions, but you try to not to think about it. Desperately.

Significant word, try.

For a few minutes, there’s nothing—or, too much, as there’s multiple John Price’s on the internet. Narrowing your searches, you add simple “military” to it, hoping for a miracle, something that will tell you anything about him. No matter if it’s gonna be bad or good, but the ache in your heart tells you that you’d want it to be good.

It feels like a crime, when you sit to your laptop right after your kid is asleep. Curiosity kills the cat, but you forget about this when you type in “John Price” in your browser, a glass of wine on your coffee table, next to the lamp that your grandma gave you. She would encourage your behavior, you can’t help but think.

Something in you whispers that it’s a right idea, he’s not telling enough about himself to let you be around him so much. Not to let him act like you’re so close that neighbors already are talking about being a “thing”. Besides, it’s not only you here. Your kid likes him too, a tad too much for your liking to ignore the case and not check basic info.

There is some information about him, but they’re mostly… a state of fact. Articles about successful missions, hostages alive. A bunch of articles praising him by the mayor of the town that the whole action happened at, interviews how he brings good everywhere he is. Multiple operations, even more praises for whatever he’s doing. Golden boy, made to shine.

Aside from the military, man doesn’t exist. No relatives, no social media that could tell you a scrap of his personality. If he likes cats or dogs better, if he’s divorced, if he has a family that he abandoned, or maybe close friends that he lost along the way. Walking mystery he is, or maybe a perfection. He can be everything he wants to be, and you won’t tell the difference between his past and the person he is now. You have no reference point.

Incredulous, you fidget with the hem of your t-shirt, thinking. No one is perfect, everyone has their demons, small or big, but everyone has them, the past that they’d like to forget in order to live without heaviness in their hearts. You have things you’d like to forget, a thing that haunts you every time you think about it; one of them is your son’s biological father, but you decide not to think about it further. There’s better things to think of that son of a bitch.

He saw things, you don’t need to be an alpha and omega to know that. Bad things; things that you probably won’t ever see, if you’re lucky, but this shit sits in his head, of course. Only him and God knows how many people he lost, how many he buried along the way, how many he killed.

It makes the difference who he was before.

You can’t have someone that you don’t know very well around the kid, you repeat to yourself, as you close the laptop. You can’t have someone who could be a potential danger. You want peace and quiet in your own home, men already disappointed you enough, including the biological father of your kid, you don’t need to have another one on your list.

Yet, you want him around somehow. He keeps the bad things away, he makes things better, he takes the worries away, just like he did with the car.

You just need to… find more information on John Price. Take some distance, maybe, and think about all of it twice.

#john price x reader #john price x you #captain price x you #captain price fluff #captain price x reader #cod x reader #x reader #single mom fic #john price #john price/reader #john price fic

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buckyalpine · 10 months

Text

Disney Princesses and Dog Tags

OMG YESSS this is so cute

Bucky x single mom reader, Peter

Warnings: Fluffy fluffy, smutty smutty, a little angst, misunderstandings, Bucky is the sweetest thing in the world.

The ending is a little rushed cause I’ve been struggling to write but I hope you still enjoy reading! <3

You smoothed the front of your dress, butterflies fluttering around your tummy as you slipped your heels on, stepping out of the house for your date. The rumble of the car engine made you feel giddy as you walked down the drive way, smiling when he rounded the car and opened the door for you, kissing your cheek with a boyish smile.

“Hey, doll”

Bucky took your hand while you steadied yourself on your heels, letting you get in before softly shutting the car door get getting into the drivers seat. The scent of his cologne already made you feel woozy and warm as he hand came to lace with yours while driving over to dinner, a place he’d already chosen because you had mentioned it in passing when he first got to know you.

It had already been a few months but he had a way of making you feel like every date was the first. You’d never met anyone else that was this charming and respectful, no one man had ever made you feel so safe and protected the way he did. You had told him early on that things had to be slow and he didn’t question it for a second. Which is why even though you’d been seeing each other for a while, he had never set foot in your home, nor had you ever spent the night at his place.

You’d have to tell him at some point but...

Your phone buzzed from your purse while you sipped on some wine; you’d both already finished eating most of your meal but you wanted to spend more time with Bucky afterwards, maybe finally caving into some post date cuddles. The continuous vibrations pulled your attention away from the handsome soldier in front of you, immediately knowing your night would have to end earlier, seeing the name on the phone screen.

“Of course, I’m on my way” You gave Bucky an apologetic smile as you slipped your phone back in your bag; in the short time you were on the phone, he had already had bill paid and jacket on, as if he already anticipated this happening.

“Need to get home?” He asked without prying further, something you always appreciated but started feeling guilty over. He never questioned why most of your dates ended abruptly or why you were so conscious over the time.

“I’m so sorry Bucky, I just- it’s an emergency” You could have just told him the truth but your heart started to hammer and you went back to your regularly excuse of an unexplained emergency.

“It’s okay” He gave you a smile, holding his arm out for you to take but you could see the sadness in his eyes even if he didn’t say anything. He enjoyed every single minute he had with you, resting his hand on your thigh throughout the drive home, wishing he could have just one night that went by uninterrupted.

“Promise, I’ll see you again this week” You kissed his scruffy cheek and lips before getting out of the car and hurrying up the drive way, waving to him as he pulled away after seeing you had made it safely inside. You sighed as you took your heels off, hoping you’d find the courage to tell him soon, after all, this was something he deserved to know.

You excused yourself to the bathroom while Bucky paused the movie, happy to have an evening with you; a quiet date at home with some home cooked dinner, some innocent kissing on the couch with a movie neither of you were too invested in. He couldn’t help but notice you’d check your phone often, though that wasn’t out of the ordinary.

He was curious though.

He understood everything there was to know about struggling to open up, taking things slow and having a private life but he started to doubt himself, wondering there was something about him that made you struggle to let some of your guard down.

Did he make you nervous?

Were you scared of him?

He shook away the self-doubt that started to creep its way up while your phone went off again. Bucky didn’t mean to be nosy, it just so happened he’d seen the screen light up every time someone named Peter called or texted you. He couldn’t open the text messages but he’d caught a few words of one,

Sorry I missed your call, I can come by later tonight-

He felt his stomach drop, tearing his eyes away from your phone, whatever it was, whoever that was, there had to be some sort of explanation. The pang of jealously he felt settled itself deeper instead of dissipating into thin air like he wanted, itching to just ask you who that was.

Maybe it was just a friend.

Maybe you had an abusive or controlling ex.

Hell, maybe you were married.

Whatever it was, if you’d just tell him...

You chewed your lip, feeling awful about having to cancel another date with Bucky; the entire month had been quick meet ups over coffee because of conflicting schedules. He had missions and you had work as well as other commitments.

“Baby, I haven’t seen you in two weeks” Bucky sighed, missing the softness of your hands in his, the comfort of your voice. He loved when you’d card your fingers through his short locks whenever he was driving and cuddling you on his couch.

“I know, but it’s hard, I don’t think I’ll be able to step out in the evening, maybe the day after?”

“Uh- I have a conference scheduled that day, what if-” Bucky second guessed himself, wondering if he was pushing a boundary but he just missed you so much, “How about I come over? I don’t mind if we just stay in, watch a movie, I’ll bring take out” He offered but the silence on the other side of the call as well as your hesitant voice let him know that wasn’t happening.

“I don’t know Bucky, I-”

“Whatever it is sweetheart, you know I won’t judge you. I’m not asking for you to tell me something you’re not comfortable with but-”

“Shit” You whispered to yourself, a beeping interrupting the call, “Sorry bub, I’m getting another call, just give me a second, let me call you back”

Peter Bucky thought to himself, unable to stop his eyes from rolling, his patience wearing thing.

“Honestly, it’s fine, don’t worry about it” Bucky couldn’t help the bite in his voice, feeling defeated.

“James-

“Forget it y/n” Bucky scoffed, cutting the call. He felt a tinge of regret not letting you explain yourself but he was sure he would end up saying something stupid he’d regret later. Your name lit up on his phone screen again, only to be cut off with the swipe of his thumb. Bucky tossed his phone on the bed, throwing on some sweats before heading down to the gym to take his gnawing doubts and frustrations out elsewhere.

Your eyes stung seeing the call decline, mentally kicking yourself but what else did you expect. He’d been patient with you for months and if you were in his shoes you would have probably walked away within the first 3 dates. He’d proven to be a sweetheart over and over again; you had no reason to keep this hidden anymore but it was a big step.

At least for you.

Two hours had passed with your inner thoughts going back and forth, toying with the little stuffed bunny that was left behind on your bed before picking up the phone again. Now or never.

“Hey-”

“Come over” You blurted out as soon as he answered, chewing your lip nervously. “To my place. Tomorrow”

Bucky sucked in a breath, wondering if this was something you actually wanted or if you felt pressured by him.

“Look, if its not something your comfortable with, I don’t want to-

“No, I want you to come over, please” You pleaded, hoping he’d agree, you knew this was something you wanted. There was a long silence before he spoke, as if he waited for you to take back your words. You held onto the bunny tighter, hoping you hadn’t already lost him. “Please?”

“Alright, sure” He replied softly, but his nerves were still on edge. There was clearly something you were anxious to tell him and truthfully, he wasn’t sure what to expect. You insisted on picking him up, since both his bike and car were being repaired after a mission went sideways. He showed up with flowers in hand, dinner in the other, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead before you could say anything.

“You don’t have to be nervous, doll”

“There’s a reason I’ve been leaving in the middle of our dates and cancelling so much” You rambled with the skin on your knuckles pulled tight as you clutched onto the steering wheel, your heart racing faster when you pulled up on the drive way. Bucky had reassured you 101 times that he wasn’t going anywhere but you couldn’t help but feel scared anyway.

“I promise I didn’t mean to keep this from you, it’s just- I didn’t know how to bring it up and things were going so well but there was never a right time-” You cursed under your breath, dropping the keys in your flustered state, grabbing them and quietly opening the door. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as Bucky stepped inside; your living room was cozy with plush couches and an arm chair. There was a TV mounted above the fireplace, along with pictures of family framed along the walls. He couldn’t imagine what made you so anxious all this time-

“Mama!!” The sound of tiny footsteps running towards you carried down the hall breaking Bucky away from his observations, “Mama, you’re home!”

“Hi baby” You cooed, scooping your three year old into your arms, kissing her soft chubby cheeks, letting her get all her hugs and wiggles out before turning around to Bucky, who looked awestruck at you both. “This is my daughter, Mia”

Bucky blinked at the little one in your arms, your baby girl looked just like you, from her eyes to her nose to her little cheeky smile. Your elderly neighbor who had been watching her gave you a wink on her way out, eye’s sparkling over the way Bucky looked at you both. Absolutely lovestruck. Your daughter clutched onto you while glancing at the handsome man that was still standing by the doorway.

“Baby, remember I said I’d have a friend come over?” She nodded, peeking over at Bucky who had carefully taken one of the little flowers from the bouquet, handing it to her.

“Hi sweetheart” Bucky smiled, chuckling as she took the flower from his hand with a shy thank you, inspecting it with wide eyes.

“Why don’t you go play, we’ll have dinner soon, okay?” You set her down, not needing to tell her twice as she took off to her room again, before anxiously turning to Bucky.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to tell you, I should’ve told you sooner-

“Don’t be” Bucky shook his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek, while following you to the kitchen and setting the takeout containers down. “I get why you were nervous, doll, its okay”

“I just- I wanted to be sure about everything before saying anything. I didn’t want you to feel like there was any pressure with a child in the picture. I guess I was also scared if things didn’t work out, it’d be hard to explain to her why you weren’t in the picture. I thought you would’ve left. But you didn’t” You rested your hands on the firm planes of his chest, nuzzling your face in while he wrapped his arms around your waist, “You waited all this time”

“I adore you” He whispered, holding you for longer, all the pent up stress he had washing away, hearing the giggles and squeals of laughter coming from your biggest secret, playing in her room. It didn’t take long for your daughter to warm up to Bucky. As soon as he sat in the living room, she’d served him 5 plastic cake slices and he happily drank tea from a cup that was the size of his pinky.

With each visit, she liked spending more and more time with him, often crawling into his lap and falling asleep or staying seated there while you all watched a movie together. With each visit, Bucky also found himself falling more in love with you and your baby. Every time he came over, he felt like he was at home, as if the dream he always wanted was placed right in his hands in an adorable Disney loving package.

Bucky smiled down at the sleeping toddler that was curled up in his metal arm, the cool vibrainium fighting off the summer heat.

“She never falls asleep that easily” You shook your head at the soft snores she let out, her little hand wrapped tightly around one of the dog tags. Something about the way he held her stirred something in you, like she was the most precious thing he’d ever touched, sitting perfectly still so he wouldn’t disturb her.

“Why don’t you tuck her in” Bucky froze. Not from fear or discomfort but shock that this was his life now. You’d never realize how much that moment meant for Bucky; that someone trusted him enough to put their child to sleep. Let her snuggle in his metal arm. Carry her to bed. His first taste of the domestic life he had stopped hoping for because he never thought it would come.

Until now.

“Good night, princess” Bucky whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your baby girls forehead before setting her down and pulling the covers up to tuck her in. She hummed in her sleep, smiling when she felt you place her bear in her arms, softly snoring again seconds later. That night became the first of many. Whenever you were strapped in, Bucky was happy to come over, spending the night with Disney movies in the background, tiaras on his head, braiding and brushing your daughters hair with ease, something he’d learned to do when he had longer hair himself. Bucky was more than happy to have date nights at your place with your bubba joining in, and while you adored the simple dates at home, you wanted at least one night with your handsome boyfriend alone.

“You’re wearing a necklace!” Mia gasped, clutching onto Bucky’s dog tags, her tiny hand carefully inspecting the engraved writing. After decorating her handsome party guest in tiny tiaras and some sparkly bows, she sat in her designated spot; on his lap, in the crook of his cool metal arm while Beauty and the Beast played in the background. You were still upstairs getting ready, which was no problem for her; Mia was more than happy to have time to snuggle with her mama’s special friend who watched all the princess movies with her, sometimes brought her flowers too, who would be the most respectful gentleman at her tea parties.

Bucky chuckled, still reeling over how small your daughter was, engulphed in his arms. “It’s very nice. Is that your name?” She asked, tracing her fingers over the writing before looking up at him.

“It is” He nodded, showing her each name, “James Buchanan Barnes”

“Oh. I heard mama call you baby” Her curious eyes made Bucky blush, but your daughter hardly seemed to notice as she continued. “But I think James sounds like the name of a prince. It’s a nice name. Like Prince Adam in Beauty and the Beast”

With that she turned back to the movie while you came back to the living room with your daughter’s over night bag packed along with her favorite brown bear.

“Mia, all you things are packed, you’ll be good girl a all weekend with Morgan, right?” She nodded, bouncing off Bucky’s lap to make sure all of her things were there, excited to spend the weekend with one of her best friends, something she wished she could do more often.

“Mommy, can’t I have a brother or sister to play with, I don’t see Morgan enough” Your little one pouted while your cheeks heated up, giggling at her innocent request. Bucky felt something between his legs twitch, it was nothing more than an innocent question, but he couldn’t help think about helping out with that and giving Mia and sibling.

“I’ll think about it” you chewed your lip, unable to look directly at Bucky while you plopped beside him on the sofa, your heart beating faster than normal. If you were going to have more babies, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to give you his kids-

“What are we doing tonight, doll? How come you packed an overnight bag for her” Bucky broke you away from your filthy train of thoughts, while Mia crawled back onto his lap, focused on the movie again.

“Actually, it’s just going to be us tonight” You smiled, leaning up to peck his lips, pulling away when your phone went off again, the same name lighting up on the screen making Bucky cock an eyebrow, he never figured out who that was.

Peter.

Who the fuck-

“Finally” You huffed, mumbling something on the phone before making your way over to the door. The sound of footsteps approaching the living room made Bucky sit up taller, who the hell was this-

Oh.

Bucky couldn’t tell if he wanted to laugh or cry and the person that stood in front of him with wide eyes and messy curls, school bag still slung over his shoulder and scuffed sneakers.

“M-Mr. Barnes?!” Peter gawked at the super soldier who still had a little gold tiara on his head along with a few pink bows clipped to his short brown locks.

“Hey kid” Bucky snorted, while Peter swallowed nervously, “What are you doing here”

“I-uh-I babysit sir” Peter still couldn’t take his eyes off Bucky, sure he knew you were dating someone but when you said he used to be in the army, you’d clearly left out a lot of other details.

“You babysit?”

Peter nodded, his arms full of candy, chips and chocolate. Bucky cocked an eyebrow, watching the way your daughter squealed and ran into the little shits arms, making him drop everything as he scooped her right up and blew raspberries against her cheeks.

“All set tater tot?” Peter grabbed Mia’s bag and stuffed the snacks in his school bag, helping her sit on his shoulders; she clutched onto him, already bouncing with excitement.

“Bye mama! Bye baby Jamie!” Your daughter grinned, making Bucky’s cheeks redden more, her grabby hands reaching out for a goodbye hug.

“Bye, bubba” You kissed her cheek, standing on your tiptoes to reach her while Bucky kissed the top of her head, the both of you sending her off as she waved her little hand. You closed the door, squeaking when Bucky wrapped his arms around you and tugged you back to the living room.

“This is the Peter that’s been blowing up your phone?”

“Who’d you think it was, Buck?” You giggled, noting the cute jealous tinge that made Bucky’s cheeks pink, pulling him down to kiss his nose. “I’m friends with his Aunt and he loves to watch her, which can be hard between school and saving the world, but he tries” You shook your head, thinking about the number of times Peter would profusely apologize for having to leave half way because humanity was at stake.

“Hm, can’t believe that little punk is babysitting” Bucky chuckled, putting his hands on your waist, pulling you close to him. “That leaves just you and me, doll” His nose bumped against yours, his mind no longer focused on dinner or movies or anything else you had planned for that night.

“I wanted you to myself’ You slinked your arms around Bucky’s shoulders, moaning when he pressed his lips against yours, the kiss starting off sweet and slow, his tongue tracing against the seam of your lips. You let your tongue lace with his, clutching onto his shirt, growing needier when he groaned against your mouth, chasing more of its sweetness. Bucky lifted you up without breaking away from your lips, carrying you up to your room with your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing the door open and kicking it closed before he reached your bed, dropping on top of you.

You could feel your pulse pump though your body, feeling a tinge of self-consciousness when his hands trailed to the hem of your shirt, stroking your skin. You started to over think, wondering if any of this was a good idea, if you’d be good for him, what if you didn’t-

“What’s wrong” Bucky paused his ministrations at the feeling of you tensing up, pulling away to see your face. He brought his hand to cup your cheek, noting the way your eyes darted around nervously, chewing your lip before speaking. “Did you want to stop, doll? It’s okay if you do-”

“No! I-I um haven’t- Not since” You huffed, it had been ages since you had been intimate with anyone, the last person being your ex. Your body had changed and it had been so long. “It’s just been so long”

“Doesn’t matter to me pretty mama” Bucky whispered, his hands lacing with yours to pull you up to stand by the edge of the bed, ready to worship every inch of your body. You sucked in a breath as he started to undress you, his hands effortlessly gliding along your body, unclasping your bra and throwing it aside.

“So beautiful” Bucky murmured, trailing kisses along your skin, softly taking your nipple in his mouth and tugging before dropping to his knees, continuing to brush his lips across your tummy. “N’soft” He nipped at your hip, his fingers tracing the stretch marks that decorated your belly and thighs, “Gorgeous”

“Bucky, please” Your cheeks grew hot as he slipped your shorts off, his lips pressed against your lace covered core, eyes rolling back, groaning at how they were already damp. He laid you back onto the bed, letting you rest against the pillows.

“Shhh, let me love you baby” Bucky tugged at your soaked panties, pulling them down your legs before settling in between them again, his wide shoulders holding you open. “Been waiting for this for so long”

You gasped at the feeling of his tongue licking you right up from your entrance, circling around you clit before sealing his lips around you, suckling and moaning, his fingers digging into your thighs.

“Bucky!” Your back arched off the bed at the low rumble he let out, pushing two fingers up you and curling them while continuing to nurse off your clit. Your thighs squeezed shut around his head making his cock leak in his briefs, loving the way your lips were chewed raw with how hard you were trying to keep your voice down. "Wan-want you!” Your pussy spasmed and clenched, desperate to be filled with him, eyes rolling back when he hit that spot that made you see stars. “Please-please want you”

Bucky smirking as he licked your arousal off his lips, sucking his fingers clean making your face heat up at the sounds he made, groaning at your perfect taste.

“You have me, angel” He kissed up your body, tossing off his clothes before settling on top of you, your eyes growing wide at his thick length, already leaking, the veins running along the shaft throbbing. You blinked at his size, your vibrator in your bedside drawer paling in comparison. He could sense your nervousness, letting his hand cradle your head, kissing your forehead.

“I'll be gentle, pretty girl” Bucky stroked your hair softly while pumping his cock a few times before lining him self up, nudging his silky tip onto your clit before pressing into you. You moaned at the way he filled you up inch by inch, taking his time to check in with you before fully sheathing himself, panting against your neck.

“You feel so good baby, so fuckin’ tight” He barely pulled out, slowly rolling his hips, taking his time to feel the softness of your body under him, the way your pussy hugged and squeezed his cock, fluttering and pulling him right back in.

“M-more” You gasped out, your thighs tensed around his waist as he sped up, reaching places you never felt before. All of it was overwhelming, the secure weight of his body on you, the soft kisses he pressed on your neck, the soft moans he made each time he pushed himself deeper. He pulled away when he heard you sniffle between whimpers, gazing at your glassy eyes.

“What is it mama” Bucky cooed, kissing away the stray tear that fell down your cheek, his nose softly nudging against your skin. Your nails dug into his shoulders, relishing in the way he stretched you, feeling so close and connected to him.

“Just- want you” You sniffled, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, loving the feeling of his cock stroking your walls, the tip grazing against the sensitive part that made you tremble and flutter, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your moans and whines growing louder.

“I’m gonna-I” You stuttered between gasps, you were so close, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I know, I know” Bucky whispered, snaking his hand between your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb. “I got you baby, cum on my cock” He angled his hips higher, nearly growling at the sounds you let out; nothing would ever sound as beautiful.

“Please-please don’t stop, fuck-Bucky right there!” You scratching down his back, your hands reaching down to grab his ass pushing him deeper. “BUCKYY” You cried out as your pussy started to convulse, waves of pleasure crashing over you repeatedly as he fucked you through your high. There was only so much Bucky could take between how your face contorted with pleasure with his cock in you, the way you clung onto his body like your life depended on it.

Then there was how much he absolutely adored everything about you, your warmth, sweetness, your little baby girl he loved so much. He loved making you feel good, your cunt choking his cock, practically massaging his swollen head, begging for him to fill you up.

“Can’t hold it, you feel so good angel” Bucky whimpered, his pace faltering, spurts of precum already decorating your walls.

“Cum for me Bucky” You cupped his cheek while he panted, kissing up his neck and carding your fingers through his hair.

“B-Baby” Bucky cried, moaning against your neck, his back muscles pulled taut, thrusting faster, the veins in his cock swelling further. “M’gonna cum, gonna cum for you, doll-

“Let go baby” You nipped his shoulders, holding onto his body tight, your sweat slicked bodies pressed against each other.

“Fuck, I’m cumming” He dropped his body weight on you, his hips pushing you further into the mattress getting as deep as he could, his cock pulsing ropes of cum. “Oh god-

You rubbed your hands up and down his spine while his cock continued to throb, refusing to move even after he started to soften. You giggled at the way he shifted to pull the covers over while still staying inside you, wrapping you tightly in his arms.

“I love you, mama” He kissed you deeply before letting his lips flutter across every inch of your face, your shy smile reminding him of the way your daughter looked at him the first time she met him. “Both of you”

5 years later

“Good morning sugarplum” Bucky’s sleep laced voice pulled you from your sleep, your grumpy pout making him chuckle.

“I just fell asleep Bucky, I was up all night” you huffed, squirming to get comfortable.

“Why were you up all night”

“Really?” You gave him a dead pan look, as if it wasn’t obvious already, your irritated expression only making his heart swell further.

“Still going?”

You nodded while Bucky pulled you closer to him, letting his hand slip up your shirt.

“Stop that” Bucky lightly tapped the side of your belly, the little kicks and flutters stopping instantly, the two tiny menaces in your tummy immediately listening to their daddy.

“You should’ve woken me up babydoll” Bucky continued to rub your skin while you moved to lay against him with your back pressed against his chest.

“You sleep like a bear” You playfully nudged him, sighing contently when his metal arm slung around you, cooling you off. “This is your fault, you know”

“Well Mia did ask for a sibling” Bucky defended himself, pulling away so he could rub your feet for a while, his hands massaging up your calves to your thighs.

“She asked for one” you snorted, struggling to see over your growing bump, “Y’think Peter would be able to handle all of them?” You smirked, petting Bucky’s hair as he moved to lay on your belly.

“We might have to call the whole team in” Bucky mused as he rubbed the areas where the babies continued to roll and kick, “I’m a trained assassin, I can train Mia”

“You’ve trained her enough” You couldn’t deal with much more of Bucky’s training; your daughter was one step away from becoming a tiny black widow, an expert of throwing tiny knives he had made for her and moving with ghost like silence. “I can’t deal with having two assassins in the house”

“C’mon, she's a perfect little white wolf” He nuzzled into you, proud of his babygirl, the sound of the door creaking open making him snicker. Neither of your heard her when she walked down the hall. “See?”

“Uh-huh” You shook your head while Bucky grinned, “I love you Mr. Barnes”

“Mama! Daddy!” She clambered onto bed with her teddy bear, settling onto Bucky’s back, happily lounging with you both on a Saturday morning. “Let’s make pancakes”

Mia squealed as Bucky flipped over and grabbed her, tossing her over his shoulder, her little shrieks of laugher making your heart swell.

“Let’s go jellybean” Bucky tucked you in, letting you rest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you too, Mrs. Barnes”

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f10werfae · 1 year

Text

One Hot Mama

Pairing: Mechanic!Henry Cavill X Single!mom!Reader

summary: Henry becomes a daddy when a special woman enters his life, and his garage... and his home (DILF Henry) (Emotional!Henry)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Henry Masterlist, Full Masterlist

"F-fuck momma, you got anymore to give me? Can see your precious pussy gripping onto me like a vice" Henry groaned looking down at his fingers plummeting in and out of his secret lover's pussy, a new single mother that had just moved to town with her newborn, immediately falling into the town's mechanic's arms for protection against the judgy looks of others. "y-you're t-too -fuck- big b-bear, can feel you s-so deep" Her hands held onto his arm tightly, her eyes looking up at him desperately.

"Shh honey, don't wanna wake up our little babe do ya? Only got 'im to sleep" He growled biting her ear lightly, his wide palm rubbing onto her clit lightly, her shirt still damp from pumping only an hour beforehand; Henry's hands already pulling at her hardened nipples to try and coax some of the milk out for himself. "O-oh i'm c-cumming" She squealed, moaning into the wild man's arms as his lips pushed onto hers, swallowing each of her moans and whines as his fingers rubbed her button raw, her slick wetness covering his hands and part of her bed sheets.

"good job momma, did so well for me, take what you need, take care of our little angel so fuckin' well" He growled watching her body writhe against his chest, his arms wrapped around her shoulders as she tilted her head up for another kiss, his tongue licking all over her mouth before diving in deep and tasting her tongue. Letting her grind against his hand, their lips separating as her whines turned to soft breaths of relief and pleasure, his hands still toying with her tits as he massaged her body. His favourite part? The extra skin gathered at her stomach, showing off just how amazing she was for going through a pregnancy, never mind a pregnancy alone.

"By the way uh- Thanks for lookin' after Tommy tonight, I-I didn't know i'd get called for work so late' She whispered letting him trace each of her stretch marks, kisses placed all over she shoulder, eventually reaching her lips once again. There they stayed on her bed, kissing and just touching each other for another ten minutes, her body humping against his lightly, whimpering at the fact that she still didn't feel comfortable enough to have sex again. "I already told ya, he already calls me daddy, only thing ya needa do is let me into your heart pumpkin"

"Y-you're already in my heart Hen, you've got it in your hands" She whispered tracing her lips with her finger, his lips kissing the palm of her hand before nuzzling into her touch like a dog. Ever since she had moved to Pomsdale 6 months ago with her six month old, the first person who had notice of her and little Tommy, was Henry Cavill the town's leading mechanic. Pomsdale was a tiny town of a population of at least 2500, so almost instantly the married woman of the town had judged her for having a baby out of wedlock.

At first it started off as a favour, Henry babysitting baby Tommy while Y/n worked her ass off. Then it turned into Henry and Y/n fooling, her body falling for his within the first week, it only took a simple look and there they were dry humping on the newest car he was fixing up; so far there had been no labels on their relationship. That was until Henry had been over at her house daily, eating dinner, helping to feed Tommy and overall just relieving her feeling of being a single parent. Last month Tommy had just about said his first word 'dada' while reaching out for Henry who was building his computer in the living room, babysitting him while Y/n was out getting groceries.

"Then why won't ya let me put a pretty lil' rock on this finger momma? make us into one of 'ose happy families, have ya as my wife, our house filled with tiny tots wreckin' the place" He whispered kissing the space on her ring finger delicately, his boxer clad body shifting over just to be closer to his woman, he didn't care whether they had his last name or not, he just wanted his son and wife with him. "H-Henry us foolin' around has been fun don't get me wrong but-"

"Foolin' around? was that all this was to you? I- I thought you just said I had your heart n' you had mine, the hell are you talkin' about then" he said sitting up in her bed, watching her panic a bit and reach for his larger hands, "N-No of course not! But you need to understand this isn't just about me, it's about Tommy too, y-you can't just up and leave whenever ya get bored of me" Her thumb rubbed over his knuckles comfortingly, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at him, only to be interrupted by the sound of her baby boy crying

"I-i'll go get him, you stay here, please" He whispered gently letting go of her hands, grabbing his sweater from the chair and shrugging it on, giving her a tight lipped smile before heading down to the one year old's nursery. His breath deepening and shuddering with each step, it's okay he would give her some time to think and then they'd talk; that's how they always worked things out during their fast paced relationship.

"hey, hey little man, what's got ya all worked up? Thought your momma's milk woulda had you knocked out cold for sure" He cooed fixing his sleep snuggy, the blue fabric looked like he was wearing a tiny dress, causing Henry's heart to grow a little bit bigger (if that was even possible) Tommy's tiny hands fisted the cotton sweater almost as if it was trying to rip off the fabric, Henry's deep voice chuckling at his boy's tiny coos and whimpers, setting him back into his bassinet before taking off his sweater.

Little Tommy now calming down against his dada's chest, his smaller fingers twisting in Henry's chest hair, Henry's lips pressing kisses onto his head and inhaling the soft baby scent. "Ya like me don't ya, one day you n' your momma are gonna be mine, officially but ya know you already are. Gonna teach ya how to play ball, ride a bike and maybe even give ya some tips for kindergarten. I know your ma is jus' worried about you, but I promise ya, if anythin' were to happen to you or your momma i'd never forgive myself" After his own monologue Henry padded softly around the room, sitting down onto the rockin' chair in the corner, letting Tommy slowly drift off on his chest.

------

Henry's eyes twinkled open, his back aching, the panic setting in when he realised his chest didn't have Tommy's weight on it anymore. Calming down when he saw the love of his life kissing the tip of his son's nose, setting their baby boy to bed, her body covered in a white silk robe. "C-come to bed Hen baby, please honey" She whimpered, her eyes still glossy, complying as Henry tugged her onto his lap. "m'comfy right 'ere, stay with me" He gruffed feeling her head lay on his chest, his hand coming up to scratch her head soothingly, her hands clutching onto his other one tightly.

"I- I do want you Henry, in my bed, in my house, with OUR son and with me. I just want you to understand t-that I am worried but I do love you and I- I do want a pretty rock on m-my finger"

"That's good, cause it's already in my pocket honey. Would you take m-my name or-"

"I want your name Henry, I want everything to do with you, the name, the house, the babies and of course, I know Tommy would like to be yours too; but I need time too"

"He was mine the day I met him love, saw the twinkle in his eye n' knew he was my little boy n' you was meant to be my woman" He whispered nudging her head up with his, her lips eagerly puckered and inching towards his; their lips meeting in tons of tiny pecks until their lips grew tired and swollen. "Ey stop it woman, our son's 'ere" He chuckled kissing her cheek sweetly, letting her nuzzle into his neck, her legs straddling his burly thighs.

(psa; lowkey think this is one of my worst stories so sorry :(( )

---

Library of works blog: @f10werfaes-cosy-collection

Taglist (not accepting, pls use library blog instead)

@pandaxnienke @thereisa8ella @kimhtoo17 @dumb-fawkin-bitch @beck07990 @madebylilly @kebabgirl67 @marvelgurl @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @aerangi @bookfrog242 @alina02 @alexxavicry @lastwandastan @hp-hogwartsexpress @angelmather1 @keiva1000 @acornacre @ggmimitf @thebaileybugle @theekyliepage @cilliansangel @kzhlvlysstuff @p4st3lst4rs @thoughtsofreid @cookielovesbook-akie @luvabellee @elenavampire21 @hoya122 @rosiesluv7 @yaminax @esposadomd @meyocoko @disaster-rose @severewobblerlightdragon @kemillyfreitas @adoreyouusugar @queensgirl718 @sweetybuzz25

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x single!mom!reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill one shot #mechanic!henry cavill #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x y/n #rpf #henry cavill fanfic

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fiendishfables · 2 months

Note

hello!! i saw ur blog and i was super excited to see another aroaceee is it alright if you do platonic adam x reader headcanons? he can be reader's friend, sibling, or preferably reader's father figure as long as its platonic, anything u'd like is fine! sorry if my request is kinda weird lol, i just haven't seen a lot of platonic hazbin hotel stuff (especially stuff with adam in it)

a/n: Always good to meet other aroace individuals, indeed. I personally love Adam, he is absolutely my favorite character. I’ve been dying to write for him more and thinking of him as a dad is just my favorite scenario-

warnings: cursing, Adam being Adam, brief mentions of sex, subtle hints at Lute x Adam (if you squint)

words: 944

additional notes: this was one of my first asks I ever got; I AM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. Enjoy~!

Adam as a Father Figure

Headcanons

First of all, he never expected to actually have a kid of his own, but now here he was

By the time you turned 6, you knew about every single curse word in existence, along with a (disturbingly) decent amount of female anatomy

Lute gets promoted to babysitter

When Adam is off performing with his band or needed in the council/other Heavenly resides, Lute is responsible for keeping track of his child

Even if she lost you (which she has, multiple times) he won't be that worried

You were a kid and as far as Adam knew, kids needed food

Hence how he knew you would find your way back to him eventually

Okay scratch that, maybe he does get a little worried...a lot

Starts to doubt his ability as a parent

Once he even got Sera to send out a search party for you because you had been gone longer than usual

It worried him sick whenever you went exploring, but he was almost a bit prideful that his offspring had managed to inherit his sneaking around capabilities already at such a young age

Lute has had to console her boss many times in response to your random disappearances under her watchfulness

He has legit been facedown on the couch with his head in her lap whilst he bawls his eyes out, blabbering to her about his worries pertaining to you, and then somehow that stems to his hopes and dreams in life (he doesn't wanna talk about it)

Only for you to walk in with food from some random location about 10 minutes later

You'd be on the floor as soon as you enter the domicile because Adam would have jumped on you and then proceeded to hug the very life out of you (all while stealing your bag of food in the process and running off with it)

Calls you a bitch, dumbass, and 'a little shit' for worrying him

Though he would never openly admit he had been worried

He doesn't care if you have a social life, he wants you home safe before 9pm, sharp

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Teaches you how to play guitar

He claims its because he wants to pass on one of his awesome talents to his only child, but he also really wants you to join him and his band on stage one day or another

You are in the starter stages of learning and are able to accurately get chords down and learn to read sheet music

A tear just may have come to his eye

The first song you two ever perform together is "Hell is Forever"

He did see someone try to give you a rose after your performance and nearly knocked them out

Trust him, he's a sex and relationship positive guy (for the most part) but he also can't help but feel like he wants to protect you at all costs

If you dare to call him over-protective, he will very gladly give you the silent treatment for a good 5 minutes

After that time mark, he will be groveling at your feet and whining about how sorry he is (rare that he actually says 'sorry')

His biggest fear is his own child having it out for him and not wanting anything to do with him

A clingy parent, no doubt

Wants to train you in the ways of becoming an Exorcist Angel

Poor guy is a bit insecure about everything and needs extra reassurance, though he would never ever outwardly ask for it

That's a sign of weakness in his eyes

Not for his child though

You come to him with even the smallest hint of watery eyes and he is already going full dad-mode

Determined to find the fucker who made you upset

Promises to give em' a good ol' kick in the balls (or vag)

Adam won't discriminate, he's just there to beat the ass of whoever hurt his precious baby

He will get in a fist fight with Sera in order to make you happy

Just expect to be the one he then blames when he gets demoted

── ･｡☆*☽*☆ﾟ.──

Adam totally took lots of naps before he had a child, so this just makes for the two of you ending up crashing on the couch together and creating a melodic tune out of your in-sync snoring patterns

Anything the two of you can do together without constantly arguing is a miracle, so this is to be cherished

He has definitely given you some very creative nicknames (as he calls himself 'Dickmaster')

Lute has taken many pictures

She wants to make a photo album and give it to Adam one day just to piss him off

But as she knows how much he really cares for you, she does not want to risk him growing apart from you due to something stupid she did for a few momentary laughs

Let's you two have your moments without interrupting

The two of you always fight over food and who gets to pick where you go for the evening, if going anywhere at all

Lute claims that you are making Adam all the more emotional, but no one seems to be complaining

Especially not the High Council

Its nice to have him shut his mouth for once and remotely think about his actions and who they could potentially effect

Adam has something to lose now, and everyone in both Heaven and Hell alike knew it

No demon spawn would ever get to set even a foot near you

You were the first life he felt truly responsible for

He refuses to fuck it up and lose someone else he cares about

He would protect you until the ends of time, whether you liked it or not

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mariclerc · 3 months

Text

An unexpected role | cl16

Summary: You revealed your little secret to your date, you didn't expect he would take it so well.

Warning: fluffy Charles, step dad!Charles, some tears while storytelling.

a/n: This is a little long story, but I hope you like it! Let me know in the comments if you'd like a part two of this. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

You never thought you'd go back to dating after the way your last relationship ended, which wasn't in a pleasant way... But here you were, in a coffee shop with a guy who was a known friend to your bestie, Lola, what seemed strange to you is that you never heard her talk about him... And obviously she hardly talked about him, since he is a racing driver.

To your surprise the date was going very well, you seemed to be in a fairy tale or something similar, you had a good feeling in your chest and it had been a long time since you had felt that way with someone.

“But I'm done talking about myself... Tell me more about yourself” He said while giving you a little smile, he told you about his races and that seemed very interesting to you, you used to be a Formula One fan when you were a little girl you watched the races with your father.

You let out a small sigh. "About me? I don't know what you would like to know about me, I don't think I have a very interesting life compared to yours.”

He denied while smiling. “You can tell me anything about yourself and I will find it very interesting.”

As if by fate, your cell phone, which was on the table, turned on showing a message from Lola, she was taking care of your little two-year-old girl Lily. The message said: “She just wanted to send her mama some kisses 😘” maybe she sent you a gif of your little daughter blowing kisses at the camera... You smiled a little when you saw the notification, what you didn't realize was the look of a certain green-eyed Monegasque who was also looking at the screen with curiosity.

“Um... Tell me you didn't see my screen, did you?” you said a little fearfully.

“I'll just tell you that I saw what was necessary... But now I am curious to know who that person is who sent you kisses” He tilted his head a little. “Do you have someone waiting for you at home?”

You took a breath, this wasn't the way you wanted him to know. “Actually... Yes, I have a little person waiting for me at home.”

You took courage and spoke again. “This wasn’t the way I wanted to tell you this, but,” you said with trembling hands. “I'm a single mom.”

You narrowed your eyes, expecting the worst possible reaction, perhaps he would get up from the table and leave without wanting to know more about you for the rest of his life, but you didn't expect his hand to rest on yours in a gesture that filled your heart.

“Wow... That's unexpected, but... Wow, I don't know what to say.” He said while giving you a loving look. “I don't want to sound nosy but you do have an interesting life.”

“Yes, well, dealing with a two-year-old little girl is not easy at all... But I wouldn't change it for anything.”

“Tell me about her… About you two actually.”

Just saying those words was enough to turn you into a first-rate chatterbox, you told him everything about you and Lily, the rollercoaster of emotions with pregnancy, the appointments to the gynecologist, the day she was born and so on, you practically spat out all the information there was and could be about the two of you. But his look of adoration and care did not leave his face, he listened attentively to every word you said to him, it was as if he were collecting data for the future? You didn't know exactly.

“Oh wow, that's totally amazing.” He said while having a small smile on his face. “I noticed you didn't mention her father, did something happen between you? If you don't want to answer, that's fine! I understand, there's no problem at all.”

You sighed again, there were few people who knew what happened between you and your ex, maybe telling him won't hurt.

“Well... He abandoned me when I told him I was pregnant, our relationship lasted almost two years, but when I told him the news, he left but without leaving me a nice little gift, a good blow on the cheek.” You said while chuckled. “And on top of that, my family didn't take the news very well either, they told me such hurtful things that made me feel unprotected and hurt by the people I least expected.” You said as you sobbed a little. “But hey, these are things that happen, right?” You said as you dried a few tears with your hand, but they kept coming, one of his hands rested on your face to dry your tears with his thumb and you smiled weakly.

“Oh God, I'm very sorry, I didn't imagine such a thing would have happened to you... But you are very brave and it shows, well, from what you tell me, that you do what is best for your little Lily." He said and your eyes crystalized again, you wanted to hug him, nobody had never said those beautiful words to you.

“Thank you Charles... I have never been told anything as nice as that.” You whispered.

“It's nothing, pretty. Now you will hear them more often.” He smiled as he winked and you giggled, apparently this date is going to lead to something very precious.

“Honey, stay calm baby, mama is trying to comb your hair.” You said as you tried to make Lily's pigtails, but she was a little restless today, excited perhaps.

You had been talking to Charles after that date, and now two weeks after that he is going to meet little Lily, he is taking you both to an ice cream parlor. You had been sending him pictures of her and so on, you talked about everything and at the same time about nothing, it was like an instant connection and that for you was fascinating, considering that he didn't run away from you when you told him everything you experienced with your daughter.

The sound of your apartment's doorbell distracted you, luckily you managed to do your little girl's hair in time.

“Let's see who's waiting for us at the door, little princess.” You said and took her hand, when you opened the door Charles was there with a shy smile and in his hands he had a bouquet of daisies and a little bag.

“Hi cutie” He said with some tenderness and smiled. “Uhm... These are for you... I saw them and I remembered you, I don't know why, maybe because they are pretty like you.” He smiled and extended the bouquet of daisies to you.

“You didn't have to do it Charles," You said as you placed them in a vase of water. “My love, meet a friend, his name is Charles… Say hello darling.” You said to Lily, who was hiding behind your legs.

“H..hi!” Lily stammered, she talks a little, although sometimes she tends to be a non-stop chatterbox, but she's adorable.

“But it's the popular Lily! Your mama has told me a lot about you.” He said with a smile as he crouched down to be level with her. “Look, I brought you something.” He said as he took out a bunny stuffed animal from the bag, Lily's eyes lit up at the presence of the stuffed animal.

“Bunny!” She said as she stretched out her little hands towards the little stuffed animal and took it from Charles's hands.

“How do you say, honey?” You emphasized.

“Thank... You” She said while babbling between laughs, Charles gave her a little smile and a small kiss on her forehead, you can swear that when you saw that your heart melted completely.

“It's nothing little princess!” He said as he looked at you and smiled. “Okay, shall we go? Those ice creams are waiting for us!” He said in an animated tone earning a small jump from Lily. If this were a competition, he would already be ahead by a long shot.

After going for ice cream and going to the park for a while, sleep began to take over Lily, both you and she had spent a very fun day with Charles, it's been a long time since you had such a good time, with her you always do your best to do something fun between the two of you.

“Mama... Swleep” She said adorably as she snuggled up next to you.

“Don't worry little one, Charlie is going to take us home, you will soon be sleeping comfortably in your bed." You said as you smiled at your little girl, you turned your head and saw the green-eyed boy smiling as he took your hand.

Sooner than expected you found yourself at the door of your building while trying to lift Lily out of the car.

“Leave it to me, I’ll help you with Lily.” He said and he carefully took Lily from your arms and carried her against his shoulder.

You noticed how natural the scene was and how incredibly comfortable Lily was in his arms, you smiled. Only Lola did those things to help you get out of somewhere with Lily, but seeing him with her in his arms gave you a feeling of familiarity in your chest.

You entered the building and took the elevator until you reached your apartment, when you entered he gave you Lily again and you took her to her room to put her pajamas on, he looked at you tenderly from the door frame, it's incredible how he won Lily's affection so quickly.

“You are ready to dream, little miss!” You said as you placed kisses on her face and she giggled while holding the stuffed bunny that Charles had given her earlier.

“Chas! Chas! Bed!” She said a little enthusiastically towards Charles, your time to tell her a story was approaching.

He approached her bed and she smiled and then you started telling her the respective bedtime story. At the end of telling her the story, you approached her and kissed her goodnight.

“Good night my sunshine! I love you so much” you said as you gave her a kiss and she smiled.

“Chas!” she said towards Charles and he smiled.

“Good night little one! I loved being with you and your mama today.” He said while he gave her a kiss on the forehead and caressed her head.

“Morrow chas?” She asked as she looked at him sleepily.

He smiled and looked at you tenderly, as if he was asking permission or something.

“Only if your mama agrees, darling.” He said and smiled a little.

You sighed and smiled. “It's okay sunshine, Charlie can come tomorrow.”

After saying that she smiled again and you two left the room closing the door behind you, you sighed a little and smiled at him.

“Thank you for this nice evening Charles,” you whispered. “You didn't have to came here and...”

You didn't finish speaking when you felt his lips on yours, it was an unexpected but amazing action in a way. Was it something that was going to happen? Yes, but you didn't expect it to be so soon, maybe he also felt the connection between the three of you.

“I'm not lying to you if I tell you that I want this every day, I mean... I want to go out with you to the most childish place of all, I want to have breakfast with you, play dolls with Lily, be your supporter and your rock.” He said in a whisper. “And I know it's an unexpected role in your lives, but I would really like this... I don't know if you also want the same thing.”

You nodded, you wanted this too, for the first time you felt seen, you felt like someone was listening to you and little Lily and that's something important for you two, because at the end of it all, he was going to gracefully take on the most unexpected role of all... And who knew that a date with your bestie's friend would go so well.

#charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles x reader #formula one x reader #charles x mom #charles x single mom #f1 x you #dad charles leclerc #step dad

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wineauntie · 3 months

Note

ahhh how would Father’s Day be with single!mother x Quinn and evie?

FATHER’S DAY — Quinn Hughes x single!mom reader

summary: in which, Evie gets to celebrate her very first Father’s Day and Quinn gets to be at the centre of it.

note: thank you so much for this ask, lovely! more of these three because they have my heart <33

warnings: literally nothing major, just heartwarming fluff. Quinn being the best dad, use of y/n, y/n/n, nicknames like bug, darling and love.

word count: 2.5k+

Father's Day had always been a rocky territory for you and Evie, especially before you'd introduced her to Quinn. You remembered so clearly when she was two, that she had come home from kindergarten with a Father's Day card, telling you "daddy card, daddy card!" over and over again. You had to break it to her that there was no "daddy" to give that card to.

The topic of Evie's father wasn't one you liked to think about. You were childhood sweethearts and when you found out you were pregnant, he was the first one you'd told. You'd expected tears and perhaps a bit of uncertainty, the two of you had often discussed a life beyond what the two of you had and that included children and marriage. You'd rushed over to his house as soon as the test had shown positive, brandishing the stick in your hand when he'd opened the door. You hadn't really known what else to do...you were still relatively young and this pregnancy wasn't necessarily planned.

He'd dumped you on the spot.

Actually no...he'd told you to get rid of "it" and then he'd dumped you...all while dropping the nuclear bomb of knowledge that he'd been sleeping with your best friend.

You'd frozen, not even flinching when the door slammed in your face. You'd gone into autopilot making your way back home and once you'd entered the safety of the four walls, you'd finally broken down.

It was safe to say that Evie's biological father wasn't a topic you wished to dwell upon.

But then you'd met Quinn and all of a sudden, every single definition of a dad seemed to befit him– it was something Evie had noticed too.

So when Evie was four and calling Quinn "dad" more often than not, the celebrations of Father's Day now seemed more appealing.

"Mom, Mom!"

You turned around from your place at the counter as Evie bounded into the apartment, her backpack swinging on her shoulders as she rushed to hug your legs.

"Hey, baby," you hummed, wrapping your arms around her, and stroking her hair as she looked up at you. "How was school?"

"Mom, I have a secret," Evie whispered as much as she could, giggling as you tilted your head in wonder. Your daughter tucked herself into your side with a smile across her face while Quinn entered the kitchen behind Evie, his keys swinging from his fingers.

"I swear that pickup line gets bigger by the day," he sighed, but despite his exasperated words, the soft smile reserved for you and Evie remained steady on his face. He placed the keys in a ceramic bowl before bending down and poking Evie's cheek lightly. "I'll need to start bringing a bed and pyjamas with me at this rate."

"Dad, that's silly!" Evie giggled heartily as she practically fizzed in her spot. Quinn's smile widened as he ruffled her hair before moving upwards to come face to face with you.

"Hey," Quinn spoke again, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to your welcoming lips. You hummed in response, your hand resting on his cheeks as he kissed you.

"Ew! Mom, Dad, stop!" Evie squirmed and broke free from where she'd become trapped and basically ran away screaming, her hands thrown up into the air.

You and Quinn fell into a fit of laughter, breaking apart to watch Evie disappear into her room. He pressed another chaste kiss to your temple before he flicked the switch on the kettle. You tidied up your laptop, which you'd been working on before they arrived home, tucking it aside, before picking up Evie's dropped backpack. You brushed it off before carrying it towards her room.

"Evie, darling, you left your bag in the kitchen," you spoke gently pushing the door open.

"Mom, in, quick!" Evie rushed to say, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the room as she closed the door.

The excitement in Evie's eyes was contagious as she held up a handmade Father's Day card, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Look what I made!" she exclaimed, practically bursting with pride, waving the card around, allowing you to take it gently.

The front of the card was adorned with a drawing of what you presumed to be Evie and Quinn holding hands– the latter indicated by a scribbled "Winnie", as well as the fact, the man in the drawing held a hockey stick in his other hand. The two were surrounded by colourful scribbles of writing.

Evie looked at you in question, her eyes wide as she waited for your reaction. You smiled warmly, opening up the card to reveal the inside, in which Evie's scribbled handwriting tried its best to be neat.

"It's beautiful, sweetheart," your tone softened as you crouched down to face Evie, handing the card back to her.

"You like it?" Evie asked carefully, as if afraid of your reaction.

"I love it," you reassured her while your thumb caressed her cheekbone. "How about you and I plan the entire day for Quinn tomorrow? Make it nice and fun for him, hm?

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" Evie nodded rapidly as she pulled you towards the bed so you could scheme.

As you both sat on the edge of her bed, Evie began to share her plans for Father's Day through childish babbled, with you listening as intently as possible. The two of you huddled together, discussing the details of your surprise day for Quinn.

It was seven thirty in the morning when you felt a soft poke on your cheek. Allowing your eyes to flutter open, you lazily smiled as Evie silently urged you to get up before she "sneakily" crawled out of the room, her bare feet slapping against the floor of the hallway as she ran.

You rolled over to face Quinn, who had pulled you deep into his arms throughout the night, your nose gently brushing his before you carefully untangled yourself from him, tucking the blankets back over his sleeping figure before you crept out, following Evie.

Evie was practically fizzing in the living room as she clutched her card to her chest. You gently pressed a kiss to her forehead before placing a finger to your lips, signalling for her to keep quiet. Together, you and Evie tip-toed to the kitchen, where you both embarked on the mission of creating the perfect Father's Day breakfast for Quinn.

You'd been dating Quinn long enough to know he loved waffles. Not only was it his go-to cheat breakfast, but also his favourite meal to make for you and Evie. You and Evie got to work, following a recipe from an old cookbook you'd thrifted a few years ago, creating a waffle mixture. You'd tasked Evie with the important role of assistant chef, letting her stir and add a range of ingredients into the bowl.

Keeping a close eye on Evie, you moved away to heat an oiled pan to cook some bacon to go with the breakfast. You flicked on the radio, keeping the music at a lull, hoping to keep you and Evie's activities as secret as possible. Your daughter's tongue stuck out between her lips in concentration as she mixed, careful so as not to splash herself with the batter.

The scent of freshly brewing coffee began to fill the air as you worked side by side, flipping the bacon as Evie pushed the bowl aside. You watched from your peripherals as Evie opened the fridge and stood on her tiptoes to reach for the fruit you kept inside.

"Careful, love," you chided, scooping the bacon off of the pan and onto a plate before moving the pan from the hob. You turned and helped Evie gather the fruit and bring it towards the counter, where you chopped and sliced it up and put it all in bowls for Quinn.

"Mom! There's someone at the door," Evie whispered, her pyjama-clad arm pointed towards the entrance to the apartment in worry as a knock resounded.

"Perfect," you smiled, moving around Evie to get the door. You unlocked the door and peeked your head around the edge, to lay your eyes on a delivery man holding a bunch of neatly wrapped flowers. "Hello! Are those for me?"

"Ms. y/n?" The delivery man asked, glancing down at his clipboard.

"The very one!" You beamed, opening the door wider and taking the flowers that had been passed over to you. "Thank you!"

"No problem, have a nice morning," the delivery man nodded before he turned around, leaving you with the bunch of flowers. You closed the door quietly as you walked back towards the kitchen.

"Pretty, Mom!" Evie all but squealed before her hands clapped over her mouth at the volume. You chuckled and nodded in agreement as you set them down on the counter.

"They are, aren't they?"

Evie's excitement radiated as she carefully arranged the breakfast tray, making sure everything looked just right. The handmade card, now carefully positioned next to the wrapped flowers– you'd been surprised to learn that the florists had allowed you to order them last night for delivery this morning.

"Do you think Dad will love it?" Evie whispered, her eyes wide with anticipation as she surveyed the breakfast spread. The waffles were a golden brown with whipped cream and the bacon beside it with all the fruit bowls laid neatly on the tray.

"Absolutely, sweetheart," you assured her, sharing a conspiratorial smile. "Especially when he knows it's from you."

With the tray complete, you and Evie tip-toed back towards you and Quinn's shared room. The tray was clutched in your hands as Evie carefully clutched the bunch of flowers and her card.

Quinn stirred awake as the bedroom door creaked open. He opened a singular eye–which widened at the sight of his girls in the doorway.

"Good morning," he rasped, stretching up his arms as he sat against the headboard. His tired eyes glanced between you and Evie in wonder. "What's all this for?"

"Happy Father's Day!" Evie suddenly exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she jumped onto the bed beside Quinn, nestling into his side. Evie beamed with pride, holding up her handmade card and flowers for Quinn to see.

"W-what?" Quinn's voice cracked with emotion as he looked at Evie with softened eyes. His arm that had naturally fallen around Evie's shoulders had tightened around the girl.

"She wanted to surprise you," You spoke up, your weight shifting on your feet. The tray was getting heavier in your hands, but you tried to hide it so Evie could do this at her pace.

"I've never done today before," Evie muttered, her gaze falling to the bedsheets. "But you're my dad now." Quinn tilted his head to look down at her and you swore you saw the shimmer of tears brewing along his lower lashes.

"I'll let you in on a secret, bug," Quinn started, his soft voice so gentle and caring. "I've never had today done for me, and that means it's both our first time." Evie looked up to meet his eyes, her own wide and childlike.

"We're both babies at this," Evie said rather seriously, her head going lax against Quinn's shoulder. Her words caused Quinn to laugh and pull her closer to his side, his eyes flitting towards you.

"Oh, y/n/n, come put that down here," Quinn rushed to move and help you, but you merely pierced him with a gaze that threatened 'you stay where you are Quinn Hughes or I swear...' You placed the laden tray on his lap, perching on the bed by his feet.

"Oh, wow, look at all this!" Quinn exhaled with a smile. "This looks incredible!"

"Mom made it!" Evie burst, looking at you with a wide grin. "And I got to help make the batter and the fruits. She even let me sort the fruit into the bowls!"

"No way! That's my favourite part of the tray," Quinn remarked causing Evie to duck her head in embarrassment. He looked up towards you and pushed into the centre of the bed, moving carefully to not spill anything as he gestured for you to join his free side.

You were more than willing to sink into the warmth of his side of the bed as he pulled you into a short, but loving kiss. Your hand brushed through his mussed hair, as you pulled away and curled up beside him.

"Thank you for the breakfast," Quinn murmured as he nuzzled his nose against the side of your face.

"I had the best helper," you smiled, looking towards Evie who was sneaking a raspberry from a fruit bowl. Quinn followed your gaze and once more, his gaze melted completely.

"So, bug," Quinn started, "what are those in your hands?"

"Oh!" Evie bounced onto her knees, picking up the flowers that she had placed half-mindedly on the bed in front of her and holding out the card for him to take. "These are for you!"

Quinn smiled and took both items from Evie. He emitted an indescribable noise as he saw the front of the card and the inside message. His lip jutted out as he buried his head into Evie's hair, his face smothered as she giggled.

"That's me, that's you, and that's your hockey stick" Evie pointed out matter of factly, as Quinn glanced up. This time he couldn't hide his watery eyes as he listened to Evie explain his card, his free hand found yours and squeezed gently, his head resting atop Evie's. "And I wrote inside all myself!"

"I love it, bug," Quinn croaked, wiping his eye briefly as he pulled her into a side hug. "I'm gonna put it on the mantlepiece so everyone can see."

Evie bashfully smiled and wrapped her small arms around Quinn as much as she could. She'd once again forgotten all about the flowers which Quinn had swiped at the last moment to save them from being squished.

"These are very nice," Quinn commented, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. "Don't think I've ever gotten flowers before."

"There's a first for everything it seems," you hummed softly, resting your head on his shoulder quite like Evie was doing on his opposite side. Quinn pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head before placing the flowers carefully at the end of Evie's legs.

"Yeah...there is," Quinn mumbled, "thank you...both of you," you and Evie both found yourselves nodding, the smell of food in front of you now growing more and more intense. "I might need both of your help with this breakfast, though."

Evie didn't need any other prompting before she grabbed at an entire bowl of fruit and started scoffing it down like a girl starved– which you knew she wasn't considering you'd already fed her plenty of waffles before you'd entered.

As you sat down and listened to Evie, who was telling Quinn all about the day ahead through a full mouth, you marvelled at how this Father's Day had transformed into a celebration you cherished, a far cry from the painful memories of the past.

Together, as a family, you were creating a different kind of story to the one your past had tried to force you to live—one filled with laughter, warmth, and the genuine bond between you, your daughter, and the man she proudly called "Dad."

more single mom!reader x quinn is coming I swearrrr!

#wineauntie #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #nhl x reader #quinn hughes fluff #Quinn hughes x single!mom #Quinn hughes #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x you #i love quinn hughes what a man #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes fanfic #Quinn hughes x single mom!reader #family is family universe

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ivymarquis · 10 months

Text

Blind Date

Me: “why the fuck is this fic taking so long to finish?”

The fic: *is the longest singular piece I’ve ever written for one chapter*

Pairing| John Price x F!Single Mom!Reader Rating| M Word Count| 8.4k Kinks/Content/Warnings| Drinking (everyone is clear headed), run ins with a shitty ex, mentions of abuse from prior relationship, these two are incredibly down bad for each other, oral (m! and f!receiving), protected piv, squirting

There is a certain catharsis in lamenting your dating horror stories with men to a married lesbian who’s over a decade older than you. Kate is always willing to lend an ear, and you’re positive that she gets a kick out of your misadventures in the way so many married people did while listening to their single friends.

“I swear I’m this close to just giving up all together and embracing spinsterhood,” you grouse with a drink in your hand after the work day had concluded.

You like to think your standards aren’t unreasonable. Someone kind, with their head on straight. It felt like finding a man who respects you as a person is becoming too big an ask and you very simply would rather be alone than deal with the endless hoard of men who seem hell bent on destroying any confidence you have in yourself.

“What about the guy you went out with yesterday?” Kate inquires with her head tilted. Must be fun, listening to your ramblings with a devoted partner at home.

“Oh did I not tell you? He was engaged!”

Kate pulls a face like her drink soured on her, matching how you’d felt at the time.

“Even better- guess how I found out he’s engaged.”

“She showed up at the restaurant?” Kate hits the nail on the head on the first try.

“Bingo,” you raise your glass in a gesture of affirmation before finishing it off. “Somehow I ended up being the one getting yelled at in that situation. Un-friggin-believable.”

You don’t abuse your work privileges to creep on people you meet in your personal life, but public record could have spared you if he’d been married. Harder to find out about an engagement from a total stranger who was determined to not let you find out about it and didn’t have social media.

“There’s always the other side,” Kate teases.

“Women scare me too much, I get all nervous.” You could appreciate an attractive woman as much as the next gal but good God you just could not help yourself when it came to men. The subtle way their breathing would change before they made their move, that low timber growling in your ear. The sheer weight of one on top of you as he manhandled you into the bedding-

Dear Lord, you need to get laid. Maybe you’re fixating on it too much because you’ve had an over 2 year dry spell. That tends to happen after a baby though. Especially with a pain in the ass ex who thinks he can pick and choose when to be around (and becomes absolutely incensed each time you remind him he could be consistent or he could stay home).

Kate is thoughtful for a moment, clearly kicking around an idea she hasn’t fully committed to in one direction or another. You can see the moment she decides to proceed with the thought. “Depending on what exactly you’re looking for, I might know someone.”

—

And here you are on a Saturday night, nerves clawing at your belly like a rabid dog.

Most (well, all) of the men you’ve dated you met online. There’s almost additional butterflies beyond the first-meet jitters knowing that the date is set up by a mutual friend.

There’s more at stake, even if the stakes are relatively low pressure. If the guys you met online did something incredibly out of pocket you never had to see them again, and held no qualms divulging the events to friends. Your romantic life has been full of misadventures but has given you a handful of stories, and as strangers you never have to consider any possible fallout in telling those stories.

Your son is with your mother for the night, allowing you the opportunity to focus solely on yourself this evening. No concern about keeping an eye on him while getting ready, worrying about what possible trouble he’ll get into when your back is turned.

It is hard at times- striking that balance between wanting to be a good mom and also wanting to be acknowledged as a desirable woman who has needs. A lot of men are shitty about it. You’d grilled Kate for every detail of his reaction when being informed of your young son. You don’t need another ambush regarding your disinterest in making it work with your son’s father.

She’d soothed your nerves- he hadn’t batted an eye, was about as worried about your reaction to how often his job pulled him away as you were about him having a poor reaction to being a single mom. You both have responsibilities that have to be placed above a relationship, now go play nice and have fun.

You tell yourself you can have one drink while waiting at the bar of the restaurant you’d agreed to meet at.

White wine ends up being your pick- not quite so easy to suck down as a tasty cocktail full of liquor, but gives you something to occupy yourself with.

You’ve only had the drink a handful of minutes before hearing someone clear their throat slightly behind you, and then your name.

Kate has shown you a photo of what he looks like so you’re not caught off guard when you turn around.

He’s handsome. You expect that but it’s different seeing him opposed to just the photo. Kind eyes, a warm smile on his face as he takes you in.

At least you both seem pleased with the big reveal.

“I’ve got a table waiting for us if you’re ready, love.”

He holds out a hand to let you balance yourself as you dismount from the bar seating, allowing you to steady yourself in your heels.

His hand is warm on your waist as he guides you and you’re already smitten by the time the pair of you sit down.

You’re fifteen minutes into dinner when you decide that so long as he a) is willing and b) doesn’t say or do anything completely deranged, you are going to ride Captain John Price like a mechanical bull at a shitty dive bar at the end of the night.

Perhaps the bar is in hell but either way you have been utterly deprived the past few years and he is checking plenty of boxes for you.

“So you work with Kate?” Starting off on the easy footing- the common ground that leads you both here.

“I do. Not directly- I work more on the tech side. I’m an independent contractor, I basically built the entire system she runs off of.”

“Beauty and brains,” his praise warms you, an impressed expression on his face. “Would explain how we’ve never crossed paths if you were hiding in a backroom surrounded by monitors,” he teases.

“You’re actually not that far off the mark,” not that you hide persay, but keeping that contract keeps a roof over your head and food in your child’s mouth. That keeps you busy. The fewer people who know how to work your program, the harder you are to get rid of.

You may or may not have hidden a few kill switches. Job security you call it. Though it’s not exactly first date material to talk about how you’ve got a government agency in a mutual understanding- keep extending your contract, and the program continues to work.

Either way, you don’t have much contact with the soldiers. Maybe you have passed each other in the halls but probably not- you’re certain a face like that wouldn’t have escaped your notice, introduction via a mutual friend or no. But you decide to utilize that mutual friend to shift the conversation. He’s hedged around talking about his work- on his end, sees that as the thing that might be a deal breaker for you. Probably wants to delay that until you've at least gotten your entrees.

So you go from business to hobbies. And it’s probably not entirely fair, but you’re about to see what his sense of humor is.

“Kate mentioned you’re a big soccer fan?” You make sure your expression is wide and doe eyed as you ask the question.

His eyebrow twitches- caught, no doubt, between wanting to leave a good first impression and biting back it’s football over here, love.

You crack far quicker than you initially plan, the wide grin on your face as you let him off the hook he’s good naturedly trying not to bite.

“Beauty, brains, and a comedian, lucky me.”

“I’m sorry, I had to. In fact, it was in her terms for this,” you make a vague gesture with your hand.

“Trust Kate to wheel and deal just to get my blood pressure up,” he muses as he takes a sip from his drink.

The conversation rolls easily enough- an ebb and flow as one of you poses a question, the other answering before allowing the first to say their contribution to the subject and moving on.

He’s charming, attentive, and a good storyteller. The way he carries himself screams military without being overbearing. He’s relaxed back into his chair and something about the scene in front of you makes you want to climb into his lap like a domesticated house cat.

Being the field captain to a specialized task force it’s no shock that he’s in incredible shape and you find yourself slightly distracted on more than one occasion by his hands and forearms.

The food is wonderful though the company is better- you end up moving back to the bar for fresh drinks and to free up the table for the server.

You spend a good length of time just talking with him at the bar.

John’s attention is on you but it’s clear he’s proverbially chewing on something the further on you go.

“That is the look of someone with a question they’re not entirely positive they want an answer to,” you’ve got a habit of being a touch direct at times. Amazing how it streamlines a conversation though.

“Observant one, aren’t you?” He pauses, takes another sip of his drink. “It’s probably none of my business, but ah- is your son’s father in the picture at all?”

It was your turn to take a drink. This was always such a fun topic of conversation. Frankly the number of men who took your ex’s side when the whole custody arrangement gets brought up alarms you.

But he has a right to his son.

Fuck that.

Your child is not property and you do not give a singular shit about your ex’s feelings- especially if it comes at the expense of your son’s safety. But it saves you a substantial amount of time not wasting energy on someone who could not understand the reason for your decisions.

“The short answer to the question is no. I had already left him by the time I found out I was pregnant, and given I left because he’s a raging alcoholic- with the emphasis on the rage-,” what a nice, polite way to say he is an abusive asshole. Your gaze shifts down towards the bartop, missing the way John’s expression softens as he reads between the lines of what you say. They’re not pleasant memories, but you’re not a wounded bird anymore- you’ve tended to your clipped wings and grown new feathers. “I didn’t want him involved.”

“He ended up finding out from a mutual acquaintance, and while he claims he wants to be around, he hasn’t done much other than blow my phone up at midnight trying to throw his weight around every time he gets a new girlfriend. So I get to be the cold blooded harpy that he gets to cry about- which is fine by me. On paper he says he wants to be involved, but he’s made absolutely no effort to arrange plans or anything while sober. I haven’t seen him in over 2 years. I can’t trust him to be a safe parent, and since he’s not on any official records I get final say unless he wants to go to court over it.”

Your whole little house of cards hinges on the fact that your ex wants everyone to bend over backwards for him while doing nothing for anyone else. All it would take would be one subpoena for a paternity test and your hands would be tied. He is an incredibly functional alcoholic, so there isn’t a criminal record or anything you can do to prove he would be unfit. There’s no proof of the abuse he inflicted on you.

Which means, if push comes to shove, you would be forced to relinquish sole custody and hand your child over for unsupervised visitation.

But that requires effort on his part. And that effort is the only thing keeping your little house of cards afloat.

“Sorry that’s probably way more information than you wanted-“ good job. Everything was going great until you laid out your drama.

“No apology necessary; I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

And there’s no lecture about how you should give your ex a chance, that the opportunity to raise his son could make him change for the better. No dissertation on how you owe it to your son to do whatever it took to make things work with his father (that had been a weird way to end a date, and the only reason you hadn’t gotten up sooner and left was because it was such a bizarre conversation you’d half convinced yourself the whole thing had to be a bad dream).

You’re not a wounded bird and on the one hand it’s a good thing to get everything laid out on the table, but on the other you don’t want to sit and mope about your personal troubles. You’re actually enjoying John Price’s company, and don’t want to think about your problems.

And yes you are enjoying the time for what it is but part of you can’t help but also keep an eye out for… any opportunities for a transition.

As hot under the collar as you are, John’s gaze makes warmth coil in your gut in a way that has nothing to do with the wine- he’s being a gentleman.

It’s sweet. He’s being polite and respectful and showing sexual discipline while making it clear he’s interested.

And for all your bemoaning of prior dates with other men who aren’t captains of specialized task forces about how they were too pushy and too presumptuous and a nice dinner paired with drinks doesn’t entitle them to you dropping your panties—

Yet here you sit, hours into a conversation when you’d decided 15 minutes in you want to jump his bones. And you have to be patient otherwise you’re a total hypocrite.

You’re not entirely subtle. The pair of you are perched on barstools again, much closer than the table allowed you to be with the two of you angled towards each other.

Your dress looks good on you. A jewel toned blue that compliments your skin beautifully, the hemline stopping above your knees and loose enough to bounce tantalizingly when you hit your stride walking.

It’s not exactly an olive branch, but it is an offering of sorts when you carefully take the leg closest to John and cross it over the other. The hemline of your skirt slips up your thigh, exposing more of your leg. It stops just shy of exposing the top of your stockings and the clip to your garter. It does show just a hint of the darker border to your stockings, the lace peeking ever so slightly before transitioning to the sheer material that covers the rest of your legs.

You’re incredibly pleased with yourself when his eyes flick down for a split second and linger before snapping back to your face. Got you. He tries to hide behind being caught with a sheepish clearing of his throat. It’s adorable, really.

Your cheeks are starting to get sore from all the smiling and laughing that’s occurred over the past few hours. But he’s pleasant company so it’s a discomfort you’re happy to deal with.

You look past him for a split second- nothing in particular catching your attention but just taking in the scenery of the restaurant behind you. Your eyes are back on him in a moment only for your brain to process what it saw after a delay.

There’s no fucking way-

Yes. Yes there is. Your ex is mingling in the background, and you don’t even realize the smile on your face has fallen to a flat line like all the previous giddiness is draining out of you and pooling on the floor below.

It would not take a captain of an antiterrorism task force to see your sharp shift in disposition, so John notices immediately.

“Everything alright, love?”

Maybe he won’t see you. Maybe, if there is a God and he is merciful, your ex won’t look in your direction, won’t see you, and you can continue your cheerful plan of trying to seduce your date.

And whether there is not a God or he is just not merciful- either option remains with you having the same shit result. He turns his head and makes direct eye contact. God damn it.

You look back to John. You’d hoped you could move past talking about your ex for the evening. “Remember how I said I haven’t seen my ex in over 2 years?”

There’s a twinge of relief on his face- the look of a man grateful to not be the cause of your displeasure.

“Let me guess- he’s right behind me?”

“Not quite “right behind”, but yes. Hopefully he’ll just-“ a short huff off agitation leaves you as you cut yourself off.

So much for hoping he’d simply mind his business and stay with his group. He’s making his way towards the pair of you at the bar, and you can tell he’s had a good number of drinks in his system just looking at him.

You’d become extremely proficient at gauging how drunk your ex is at a glance. A skill you developed while still with him and one that doesn’t seem to have faded.

This is, you know without question, going to end up being absolutely humiliating for you. You just know it.

“I am going to go ahead and apologize now for whatever is going to come out of his mouth,” you inform John.

His hand finds your knee, giving a light, reassuring squeeze. “It’ll be alright, love.”

“Well what do we have here?” is the warning shot letting you know he’s not going to show any form of civility.

“Hello, Michael,” you greet cooly, mind spinning a hundred miles an hour trying to figure out how to end this conversation as quickly as possible.

“You don’t have time to answer my texts but you’ve got time to go out. That’s good. Good to know you’ve got your priorities in order,” he starts.

“Answering your texts isn’t even remotely on my priority list, you know that.” You’re trying incredibly hard to keep yourself from being outright nasty but a whole lot of old wounds float up to the surface at the sight of your ex.

Maybe your new feathers aren’t as filled out as you’d initially thought. You feel raw and exposed and it’s difficult to think. You know what you should do, how you should handle it- and there’s still that one little part in your brain that is keeping tabs on John and his response to all of this.

“Your priority should be my son-“ he starts,

“-who is with his perfectly capable grandmother for the evening, thank you,” you finish for him, jaw set tightly. “Why are you here?”

The direct question is aggressive but you know the cycle with him too well to allow him to steer the conversation. He’ll run you in circle after circle until you’re so frazzled you can’t discern left from right.

“Can’t say hello and introduce myself to your new fella? Come on now, where’s your manners?”

Your eyes widen as Michael reaches a hand out- there is no way this asshole is about to grab you in public.

Quick as a snake, John runs interference and drapes his arm across the back of your chair, his fingers holding the shoulder furthest from him lightly.

The entire length of your back and shoulders are blocked by the SAS captain, forcing Michael’s hand back as there was no easy place for it to land that wouldn’t also be touching John.

Up until now, John has been quiet and assessing the situation. Not bowing up or trying to assert himself- letting you deal with your ex and navigate the situation for yourself.

The look on his face is downright unpleasant to put lightly. This is the man in charge of an elite task force, who barks orders at soldiers who drop everything at once because he told them to-

-and you don’t feel so exposed anymore. You find yourself sitting up a bit straighter only for John to gently stroke his knuckles against your shoulder in a soothing gesture. The gesture isn’t a miraculously grand one, but one that makes you realize you’re not alone in this situation even as disorienting as it is. And if you’re being honest with yourself, the upright posture and shifting of your thighs isn’t so much a stress response to your ex as you keying in on John’s response to the whole situation.

“John, Michael- Michael, John. There, now you’re introduced.” Go away now please.

Your ex is too drunk and too full of himself to see the writing on the wall, and continues to poke the bear. “Well, since she doesn’t seem to want to give a proper introduction-“ he sticks an arm out, and you can’t help but notice how the simple gesture causes him to need to correct his balance. Good lord it was barely dark out and he’s already-

Well. Not your problem. Not anymore, at any rate.

John is sitting to your left, his right arm the one that’s draped across the back of your chair. The pair of you flash a quick look to each other, John lifting his arm from your chair to take Michael’s hand and-

God.

Damn.

It.

The exchange is actually as hilarious as it is embarrassing (You can’t quite decide if it’s all the second hand cringe variety, or first hand because Look, John! Here’s the father of my child! I sure know how to pick a partner! Is still coiling in the depths of your stomach). You’d prefer if it simply never occurred at all.

You can see your ex’s forearm flexing as he shakes John’s hand. The microexpression that flicks across your date’s face confirms your suspicion- Michael is (for some reason) trying to use an overexaggerated grip to establish some sort of dominance in the situation.

The quick really? that reads on John’s face rapidly turns to a bemused and subtle if that’s how you want to play then, a barely noticeable shift in his own grip resulting in Michael wincing.

“Captain John Price,” his tone is easy, betraying none of the pissing contest your ex instigated and is failing miserably to get one over on John.

Your ex mumbles his full name, clearly realizing that whatever his brilliant little plan is a) isn’t so brilliant to begin with b) he might just be alert enough to acknowledge the fact that he clearly has no true plan. He came over with the intention of being an asshole and has been flying blind the entire time.

There’s one woman from the group your ex split off from who is watching the three of you keenly. If you were to guess, she is probably his new girlfriend.

You can’t help but wonder- does she know enough to know that this is routine behavior for him? That he throws himself headfirst into a situation he hasn’t planned out- isn’t sober enough to plan out? Situations that don’t need to occur just so he can throw his weight around? Too petty to give a genuine “Hello, how are you? It’s been a while. I want to talk to you about Sam when we’ve both got some free time?”

Everything is vindictive. Constantly worrying about not being undermined and being respected to the point he gets in his own way. Actively sabotages his own opportunities. In dire need of therapy to work through his issues because you know the alcohol is how he copes and you’d sympathized at first but the reasons became excuses and then he’d started blaming you and-

-John places his arm on the back of your chair again and you pull yourself out of your mental spiral.

“I think your date is waiting for you, Michael. Best not to keep the lady waiting.” John observes, his tone neutral despite being a clear dismissal.

“You’ll be hearing from me later. I want to see my son.” Michael’s ignoring John’s presence but taking the hint.

You don’t fling a final barb at him. The venom has been drained out of you and you just want the interaction over and done with. Let him have the last word. You just want him gone.

You merely cast a look over at the woman who is Michael’s date for the evening and hope she’s got better sense than you did- that she leaves before he sinks his claws in her too.

The weight that settled in your stomach upon first seeing him is finally lightening up on you. You know you’ll wake up tomorrow to a barrage of phone calls and text messages that you won’t answer. It’s probably not good you’re so desensitized to the idea that it barely registers as a problem. Merely one of life’s many inconveniences.

“You alright, love?” John’s voice helps you shake the last of the tendrils that cling to you.

“Yes. Sorry. Wasn’t expecting to run into him of all people tonight, is all.”

“Never fun being ambushed, is it?”

You take a bit of a risk- you know enough about his job but he’s steered the conversation away from it every time the topic would naturally shift that direction. You know how Kate’s work can go and you assume his is very similar. “Well you’d certainly know more about that than I would.”

It works. The two of you break out in grins, and you find yourself no longer worrying about Michael and your focus readily settling back on John where it belongs.

At some point- long after the single cube in John’s drink has melted, and the condensation of your wine glass has soaked the bev nap underneath it, and more importantly long enough that you don’t feel that you’re fleeing the restaurant- the suggestion is made to go back to John’s. “No more surprises, hm?”

You gladly follow him. You’d taken an Uber to get to the restaurant, anticipating drinking and hoping to go home with him, so you have no worries about your own car.

You can easily see him being the type to give you a quick, chaste kiss on the doorstep after safely dropping you at home. In another universe you’d appreciate the restraint, enjoy fleeting touches over the course of a few dates that get more intense each time before finally finding yourself in his bed.

In this universe however, you don’t have to wait. Don’t want to, either. You get to indulge your earlier impulse of crawling into his lap, knees spread wide on either side of his waist. Lowering your hips allows you to feel him and what exactly he’s packing between his own legs. Your hips cant in short motions and heat coils heavy in your gut.

From the feel of things he’s proportional and John is not a small man. There’s a brief flicker that runs through your mind that you might be in over your head with him. The pent up lust and desire stifles that flicker. You’re more than game to see what a night with him ends up being like.

His hands are warm against your skin- one cupping the back of your head and keeping you close as the pair of you make out, the other settles on your hip and keeps you steady as you grind down on him.

You are possessed with the desire to get his cock in your mouth.

It’s cute how his face follows yours as you pull away from him.

“Help me with my dress?” Your question is perfectly innocent as you turn your back to him, presenting the zipper that runs down the length of your back.

His pleased laugh warms you, a shiver of desire and anticipation running down your spine as his breath fans across the back of your neck.

You’ve got a surprise waiting for him underneath your dress, partially revealed as one of his hands holds the top of the dress steady while the other draws the zipper down.

You gave him the hint you were wearing stockings when you’d baited him back at the restaurant, letting the heavy fabric of the dress fall to a heap around you before kicking it off to one side.

Turning back to face him, John seems quite enraptured with his surprise.

The lingerie set is a matching shade as your jewel toned dress, the garter belt clipping to the sheer black thigh high stockings.

There’s always that split second hesitation when revealing yourself to someone- the anxiety of if they’ll be pleased with what’s presented to them.

John is the first person you’ve been with since you’ve had your child, and the slight anxiety quells quickly at the look on his face.

John looks like he wants to eat you alive. Any insecurity is knocked firmly aside by desire quickly ramping back up.

Placing one hand on his thigh to steady yourself as you lift a leg to take your shoe off, John is quick to stop you. “Leave them on for now, love.”

It’s a request but it’s not. Really that doesn’t surprise you- he is someone who is likely used to having his whims accommodated to. You find yourself having no urge to defy him, nodding in compliance. If John wants your heels to stay on, then they’ll stay.

He guides you between his legs, enough space between his knees for you to slot yourself in. With him sitting on the bed he’s shorter than you standing straight up in your heels. Bending down to give a quick, teasing kiss you let yourself drop to your own knees.

“You don’t have to-“

“I want to,” you assure him with doe eyes and are rewarded with him settling into the bed as your hands go to work on his belt.

Unable to resist teasing him, you mouth at his bulge through the thick fabric of his pants. You’re rewarded with a soft cant of his hips, having his belt undone and working on the button and zip of his pants in record time.

Your earlier suspicions are correct. John is a big boy in more ways than one. You want him in your mouth- now.

While you’re occupying yourself with getting his pants off, John shucks his shirt and shoes.

He is, simply put, delicious to look at. From the broad muscling to the thick dark hair running from his chest down his abdomen. He doesn’t have the hard chiseled abs of a man who lives in the gym but the sturdy build that comes from having useful, functional muscle that’s put to work.

And that’s incredibly hot. He’s girthy as hell in your hand as you give a few strokes before putting your mouth on him.

You’re not entirely certain if deep throating him is going to be an option, but by God you’re going to try.

“Bloody hell, love.” John grunts while you bob your head up and down the length of him. You’re gauging just how much of him you can get in your mouth- where your threshold is before your gag reflex wants to kick in.

He’s petting you. Doubtless trying to fight the urge to fist your hair, his hips struggling to stay still on the bed.

You want him to. You feel feral, all the pent up sexual energy you’ve been storing for God-knows-how-long welling up all at once. You want this man carnally and your brain presently thinks having your hair held in place and your throat fucked is a fantastic idea.

John clearly has other plans, restraining himself and letting you work at your own pace. That low, deep breathing paired with his soft grunts and voiced encouragements stoke the flames of your arousal hotter.

Eventually you do need air, pulling off of him for a moment. Your hand works his shaft and teases the tip of him as you lean forward to run your tongue up and down the length of him, dropping a bit lower to lave at his heavy sac. He jolts which only encourages you to do it again.

You know your eyes are one of your better features- you’ve heard the compliment enough times both in and out of the bedroom, holding John’s gaze as you lick him back up the length of his shaft and circle the head once before having caught your breath enough to wrap your lips around him once more.

The second time around you’re able to get a bit more of him down your throat, but not all the way. What you can’t reach you stroke with one hand, the other resting on his thigh to help balance yourself as you work. You can feel the tension building in his thigh as he gets closer, pleased with yourself.

It’s a heady feeling. You don’t know exactly all the dirty details of his job but understand enough to know you’ve got a powerful man at your whim right now and that scratches a deep seated itch in you.

“Good girl,” his praise washes over you, warm and welcoming. “Just like that-“

You’re intent on sucking the soul out of him, all doe eyes and hollowed cheeks with those painted red lips. Eventually he gives into the urge to grab a fistful of your hair. He doesn’t do anything to interrupt the rhythm you’ve settled into, letting you move as you see fit.

He bites out your name and you feel the muscles in his leg drawn tight. “I’m getting close, love.”

It’s not quite a question. You give your not-answer by doubling down on him. You’re so close to having him in your mouth all the way to the base. You don’t want to back off. What you do want is for him to finish down your throat.

You get your wish. John’s fist tightens and you let out a grunt as his thrusting results in your nose pressed against his public bone.

The taste of him doesn’t really register as he spills inside your mouth, your focus on breathing through your nose and keeping your gag reflex down.

He’s petting your hair again, praises falling freely from him and soft apologizes. “Lost myself for a moment there, love. You alright?”

You keep your mouth hilted on him for a moment to prove a point- you’re fine, he didn’t push you past threshold- before finally releasing his softening cock.

He’s pulling you up to him after that, an open mouthed kiss that flusters you considering he just came in your mouth. “You’re just a treasure,” his voice purrs in your ear. “Only fair I return the favor, hm?”

He guides you to lay on the bed, knees hanging over the edge before he turns to settle between your legs.

He starts at your neck. You’re ticklish at one spot his lips, squirming in his hold with a giggle. “Sensitive, hm?”

You nod out a “mhm,” that breaks into a breathy moan as he works his way down your chest. Rather than removing your bra his hands work to pull your breasts free from the cups before paying particular attention to your nipples.

His hands are warm as they roam your ribcage, the heat of his body seeping through the lace of your outfit as his fingers trail across your skin and the delicate material.

“You’re so soft, love,” you don’t quite know how to respond to the compliment, mewling wordlessly in pleasure at the attention.

That seems to appease him as he kisses his way down your sternum and to your belly, the expanse of most of it covered by the fabric of the garter belt.

His eyes flick up to your own as his lips travel closer to the apex of your thighs. Where you’ve been lying patient and pliant in his grasp, the eye contact draws something tight in your core and you squirm again.

The next thing you feel is teeth as he nips you. “Be a good girl for me,” he tells you, soothing the soft throb of his bite with his tongue.

You force yourself to still as he moves lower, lower, lower- taking his time and having you thoroughly worked up before moving to the next patch of skin.

When he’s down far enough he slides one of your thighs over his shoulder, that arm looping under your arm and banding across your abdomen.

It’s his turn now to mouth at your clothed sex.

He pulls the gusset of your thong aside after a moment of teasing, his lips descending on you.

“Oh,” your hand immediately finds purchase in his hair, a pleased whimper escaping you at the feel of John’s tongue.

John feasts on you. There’s not much else that can be done to describe it. It’s lewd and wet as he laps at you, the flesh of his tongue doing little to soothe the burning ache inside you and only ramping it up.

Those eyes are wicked as he gazes up at you from between your thighs. The hand resting on your lower stomach is pressing ever so lightly, like John wants the pressure there but not too much yet and you’re once again struck with the idea you might be in over your head with him.

“John, please,” you beg. It feels good but you need more, lust clouding your brain as your hips rock against his face.

“You need to be patient, love. I’ll take care of you. Just relax, hm?”

It dawns on you that he’s probably running down the clock until his refractory period is up. That he doesn’t want to get you going too quick and then be stuck not quite ready to perform.

It’s an assumption, and you’re not 100% sure that you’re correct, but it’s a solid enough option that you move forward with that in mind.

The thought almost makes it easier to relax into the bed- the idea that John is going to pleasure you with his mouth until enough time has passed and he can get it up again. That he’s not just mindlessly toying with you with no end goal in mind.

It feels good you’re just stuck being greedy and wanting more stimulation despite knowing that won’t happen until John decides he’s ready to give you more.

You almost jump when the fingers you’ve been waiting for make their presence known. His mouth moves to focus on your clit, lips making a seal and sucking on it. You cry out, hips canting as his fingers gently rub at your labia.

He starts with one, gently sliding it in and out of you. Your back arches in satisfaction of having something to clench on and rub against. It’s more satisfying than just one of your own- that was for sure.

“That’s it love,” John praises you while easing a second one into you.

The second finger is what you were looking for, stimulation wise. John pets and strokes you, thumb gently working over your clit in soft circles before putting his mouth back on you.

He doesn’t just find your g-spot. John’s fingers are placed so they hone in on that spongy bit of tissue tucked inside you. He doesn’t let up on it, tongue working on your clit as you arch your back helplessly and moan.

That pressure is back on your abdomen, the hand not currently stroking you to nirvana pressing down on your belly.

You moan and buck against his hold. Your orgasm is creeping up on you and it’s like he’s determined to make you squirt.

“You keep that up and I’m gonna make a mess,” you warn him- not entirely certain how he’ll respond to the prospect of you squirting on his face.

John looks delighted and you realize that yes, you are in over your head with him.

There’s a mischievous glint in his eye as he pulls back from you, “You promise, love? Don’t tease me.”

Oh dear God- Next thing you know he’s reaching over you to pull a pillow from the top of the bed, wedging it underneath your hips before returning to his place between your thighs.

You’re flustered at how eager he is to see you squirt. His mouth is back on you, sucking on your clit and making your legs shake as two fingers go right back to abusing your g-spot, his free hand pressing on your belly increasing the pressure that is mounting by the second.

There’s nothing else for you to do but grab a fistful of his hair and hang on. “Please- oh! J-John! Right there,” at your encouragement he locks in on the spot that’s got you arching your back and your thighs trembling.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me,” he’s moaning encourments against your skin and you feel like a bow drawn tight and ready to snap. You’re so, so close.

The sounds he draws out of you- both from your mouth and between your legs- are filthy and vulgar and you don’t care at all as he gets you teetering just on the edge.

You’re practically gasping for breath, eyes screwing shut as the hand not buried in John’s hair fists the sheets next to you. You babble his name, chants of John all your brain can muster.

All that pressure coiling in you snaps and gushes out, literally and metaphorically.

“Good girl, making such a mess for me,” John’s praise has you flushing hot while his fingers work you like he’s making sure he can wring out every single last drop.

He stops when you have nothing left to give him, a trembling mess shivering in his hold.

Your brain at some point made the windows shut down noise, needing a moment to settle as you process what John just did to you.

This is the hardest you’ve cum in ages, certainly better than the orgasms you’ve given yourself during your little dry spell.

You return to the land of the living with his lips on yours, tasting yourself as he soothingly strokes your side. “You back with me?” He asks, eliciting a nod from you.

“Please tell me you have a condom,” your tone is pleading. You still want to ride him but you’ve learned your lesson about practicing safe sex. Once was, in fact, all it took for things to go off the rail.

“I do,” he stands, moving to the nightstand and opening a drawer.

Now that your legs feel somewhat compliant you sit yourself back up.

No sooner than John’s got the condom on then you’re guiding him back down, having him lay on the edge of the bed.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, getting yourself situated so your heels don’t catch on his sheets, but you’re straddling him with the leg closest to the edge of the bed hanging over the side as the opposite leg folds underneath you. You hover over him while getting everything lined up. The position of your legs allows you to alternate which one is supporting the brunt of your weight, a factor that is going to be fairly important once you’ve hilted yourself on John.

Even with how pliant your body is it takes a moment for the head of him to breach you.

“Oh,” you let out a breath as you sink down on him. You’re not able to get all the way to the base of him on the first go, getting your weight underneath yourself and lifting almost completely off of him before dropping down again. You get a little further this time, a moan escaping you.

“That’s it, love. Nice and easy,” his voice coos in your ear, that low timber having you liable to melt.

He’s thick. Not in a way that’s insurmountable to manage, but you have absolutely no complaints with how he fills you and anticipate being pleasantly sore in the morning.

Two more slow bounces have you sinking low enough to hilt yourself on him, taking a moment to enjoy the sensation of sitting fully on his lap.

One of his hands braces on your hip, the other his thumb circles your clit. You squirm at the stimuli, relishing in the feel of him before getting to work.

This is what you’ve been drooling over all night. Your reward is very well earned in your opinion. Moaning lowly as you bounce up and down, your movements are initially slow and languid but pick up speed as you get your bearings. John’s heavy exhales and grunts when you clench only serve to wind you tighter.

“You feel good, pretty girl? Hm? You like bouncing on my cock?”

You flush- a ridiculous notion given how you’re quite literally hilted on his dick-, face hot from the dirty talk.

The hand on your hip helps guide you to a pace that’s pleasurable for the both of you, eyes rolling as he thrusts his hips in a way that makes you see stars. “Yes! John- yes! Oh it feels so good,” your voice a low purr as he delivers on every fantasy you’ve had this evening.

The stretch of him in you feels absolutely incredible, knocking the air out of you on each bounce. It doesn’t take long until that knot begins to form again, growing steadily as you rise and fall in his lap. The press of his finger circling your clit draws staggered moans, bracing on him for support.

“Been thinking about this all night,” John grits out. “Wanted to flip you over the bar top and have my way with you right there on the dining room floor.”

You moan at the confession, feeling less like a rabid dog with no impulse control now you know you’re not alone in the intense desire that had struck once you’d laid eyes on him.

“Probably wouldn’t have- ah! st-stopped you,” you tell him. The grip on your hip tightens at that, another moan escaping you as you bounce on him.

Your eyes roll in pleasure, cunt practically fluttering from the way he keeps getting you to clench. The thickness of his girth doesn’t just let him keep hitting that spot in you with lift of your hips so much as the mushroom tipped head of his cock drags across it.

“Aren’t you just a fucking treasure,” he praises.

Your thighs are burning, eased by the position of your legs and John’s grip helping you but becoming more present with each wet clap of your sex against his lap. It almost helps you tip closer to another climax.

Your eyes squeeze shut, a staggered breath escaping you.

“Eyes on me,” he tells you and you comply immediately.

“John, please I’m so close,” your thighs are shaking again, threatening your already precarious balance.

“You need more, pretty girl?”

You shake your head. “No-no. Just don’t stop. Please don’t stop!”

And bless him, he doesn’t do anything to fuck up your rhythm. The fingers circling your clit keep the same tempo and pressure perfectly, his free hand still helping guide you up and out of his lap before sitting you back down.

You know you’re about to come but are caught off guard by how sharp it is as you squirt for a second time.

The sight of you spurting across his abdomen nearly severs any control John has left. The next thing you know John’s abandoned your overstimulated clit in favor of rolling you onto your back, your heels clattering to the floor from the motion. Your legs go instinctively to clamp around his waist for security- only one of them does, the other stopped by wet fingers gripping your thigh by your knee as he spreads you open. His weight is held on the forearm bracing next to your head by the time you process the shift in position.

“You alright, pretty girl?”

You can’t quite get your words out but manage a nod. “Ye-yeah,” you eventually stagger out as he waits for a verbal confirmation.

With the comfort that you were fine, that gives John the assurance he needs to seek his own pleasure.

More than satisfied with your two climaxes, you lay limp and pliant in his grasp while he chases his own end.

The wet squelch of his cock splitting you open with each thrust was loud and obscene although you were too far gone in the blissed out pleasure to care. Your whole body feels delightfully tingly, your head swimming pleasantly.

You clench down on him a few times, more for his benefit than anything else. You’re spent but more than willing to help him across the finish line as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muttering praises that are punctured with short, sharp thrusts before he stiffens as his own climax hits.

The two of you have both broken into a light sheen of sweat by the end of things. After a moment to recuperate John stands with a “I’ll be right back.” (And you unabashedly enjoy the view of his ass while he retreats to the bathroom.)

True to his word he returns shortly, evidently having disposed of the condom with a towel in hand for you.

The pair of you get yourselves clean and sorted. Before you can decide how you want to ask, John seems to already know what the question is.

“You don’t need to leave, do you?”

Again it’s not entirely a question, but still gives you an out if you want to take it.

You don't want to take the out.

#john price x reader #captain john price #john price #x single mom reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #my writing #now I gotta name this bitch because I totally plan on a whole series and the other characters can’t be calling her love all the time lmao #i wrote and coded this whole thing on my phone because my laptop has once again quit on me

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