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dejwrld · 7 months

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CHOSOIST KINKTOBER GAMING PLAYLIST — WEEK 1

( DEMON TIME) 🎮 INCUBUS!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X READER

— game synopsis: your boyfriend has been quite neglectful when it comes to your needs. not particularly being the best book boyfriend similar to the books you've read. but the one demon that visits you in your dreams seem to give you everything you need.

( cw ) ⸻ fem reader, female anatomy described, mentions of reader having a boyfriend, doggystyle, unprotected sex, dirty talk (simon calls reader a slut), mentions of wet dreams, pillow humping, infidelity, kinda monsterfucking, mentions of simon having horns, gaslighting, i changed the ending like 5 times omg

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ kinktober masterlist / previous playthrough

You planned the whole night out for you and your boyfriend—a Halloween tradition that you two always did every year. Binge-watch some Halloween movies, give out candy to children who knocked on your shared apartment door, and have wonderful sex as Jason Vorhees kills his next victim playing in the background. But tonight, you sat alone on the cream-colored sofa with a half bowl of candy (because trick-and-treaters didn’t stop coming despite your boyfriend did). You felt embarrassed, the running thought that you should have let this relationship go sooner flashing through your mind similar to a light bulb flickering on when someone has a wonderful idea.

You were grasping onto a dead relationship and yearning for a happy ever after that wasn’t even there. You turned the television off and decided to clean up for the evening. Putting away the snacks you laid out and the pizza that grew cold as minutes went by. Pure disappointment sat at the pit of your stomach while cleaning up and eventually finding yourself in bed a little earlier than usual. You quickly did your evening routine of skincare and brushing your teeth before letting your feet guide you to your bed. The sound of late-night partygoers was heard outside and you can only tune out the squeals of excitement as you drift off into a deep slumber.

But as your body finally fell into the comfort of getting some rest, you soon felt your body jerk up suddenly at the sound of your wooden floors creaking. You wanted to be excited that your boyfriend actually came home and maybe you could do the activities you had planned. Expecting to see him tugging off his button-down shirt and complaining about his supervisor being up his ass during the eight-hour work shift—but instead, you were met with a large figure staring at you. His burly arms crossed over his chest causing the tight black t-shirt to clench upon his upper body. You blinked a couple of times assuming you were dreaming. You even reached to your wrist to pop at the beaded bracelet your boyfriend got you at this carnival you guys went to. The beads sting your wrist after you do that action and you still don’t jolt up in a completely cold sweat.

“You’re not dreaming, love.” His deep voice erupted your thoughts that were racing with questions. “Actually, kinda in the middle. Not dreaming, but actually dreaming. Hard to explain,” He points out before tilting his head at you.

Now you wanted to scream. A large man with a black mask that had a skull imprinted on it was standing just inches away from your bed and your body shook with fear as you inched away from him but was met with your cream-colored headboard.

“It’s no need to panic, you summoned me here. Well, kinda.” He explains. “Fuck.” He utters before clearing his throat and trying again.

“Every Halloween, some lonely single person's guilt and hurt is so strong that it summons me or one of my peers. A mere incubus that they can have for just one night,” The masked man explained, and when he saw you look at him as if he’s grown an extra pair of arms (which he could do if he put his mind to it, he was fuckin’ demon after all). “You’re actually the first person I’ve been assigned to in a while.”

“I’m so fucking confused right now.” You swing your feet over the ledge of your bed, sliding into your slippers, and walking over to the mysterious man. When you got closer, you immediately poked at his arm and were met with hardness.

He was real. He wasn’t like some ghost and maybe you had gone crazy.

“But I’m not single…” you pointed out as you circled around his large frame to get a good look at him. If he wasn’t a ghost, he still was here, and if anything went to shit to the point that you had to call the cops—at least you had a visual of his stature.

You couldn’t tell if his face scrunched up in a confused manner, but his eyes told the rather confused feeling he possessed. You stood in front of him crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m actually taken…” Your voice trails off and for some reason saying that left a bad taste in your mouth.

It didn’t feel like you were taken. Especially when you went to sleep alone tonight.

“Hm, that’s interesting. It doesn’t seem like that. So if you’re not taken…you’re hurt. Did the little boyfriend and yourself have an argument?” The stranger waltzed over to the small loveseat in your room and sat down. It was as if he was a therapist questioning you about life.

“No.” You quickly admit. “We didn’t…he just didn’t show up tonight when I planned something for us. He hasn’t answered his phone, nothing. So, I’m just confused about what I should do because this has happened before.”

“I see.” His voice trails off and he rubs at his clothed chin before standing up. “Let’s go have some fun, love.” The mysterious man whose eyes you were hypnotized with extended his large hand for you to take.

“What? I’m still in my pajamas.” You pointed it out. “I need to go change, maybe fix my hair.” You motion to the silk scarf that was tied upon your head.

“Eh, don’t worry about that. I’m a fuckin’ demon. I have it all figured out.” He says.

You met his gaze and you saw this twinkle in his light-colored eyes. It was a similar twinkle and glint that your boyfriend had when you two were in your cupcake phase during the relationship. “What’s your name? I can’t just go out with a stranger that claims he’s a demon.”

You heard him kiss his teeth, “You’ll figure it out soon.” And with that, he grabs your hand and in a blink of a moment, you’re both in a crowded bar.

You knew exactly what bar you were at because it was one that your boyfriend frequented a lot with his friends and co-workers. You had to pick him up countless times when his alcohol intake had hit its limit. But as you stood in the middle of the bar, you noticed that no one didn’t notice you. A person walked by you and you were expecting to feel their shoulder roughly bump into you—but instead, their body went through yours as if you merely were a ghost. No one in this bar knew you two were here, which sucked considering your attire.

Your hands roamed your body as you wore a blood-red leather corset and a black leather mini-skirt that hugged your lower half perfectly. On your head was a headband that was decorated with two sparkly red devil horns. Of course, he would ensure you were dressed up as a demon. Your eyes searched in the crowd for him and you saw him behind the bar looking at the massive choice of alcohol. You walked towards the bar and watched him closely, “Why are we here?” You asked.

“To have a good time.” The man’s fingers tapped at his masked face before grabbing a random bottle and some shot glasses. “So, drink this and let loose.”

You took the shot off the bar and drank it quickly just in time to hear a loud cheer from the back of the bar. Your head turns to follow the commotion of people dressed up for Halloween while playing what seems to be an intense game of pool. When you saw the familiar figure with a football jersey on, your heart sank immediately. There your boyfriend was playing pool with a huge grin on his face while his friends cheered him on. The shot you took, immediately helped your stomach form the most horrendous knots and you wanted to go home.

“No.” The demon behind the bar said before filling your shot glass up again.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say.” Your eyes stared at the liquor in your glass and you then watched him lift the mask just a bit so he could down his own shot. “You brought me here on purpose.” Your eyes narrow at him.

“I did. To see that you’re all sad for that.” His fingers motion to your boyfriend. “He has seen your text messages by the way and five missed calls.” He adds and you didn’t even want to question him he knew that you had blown up your boyfriend’s phone.

“It’s really no point to be here. I’ll just talk to him when I get home.” You adjusted the headband on your head. “So, can you please teleport me back home Mr. Demon?”

“No.” He adds before walking around the bar so that he is sitting on the barstool next to you. His large callous hands grab the end of the stool you were comfortably sitting in and bring it closer to him. “We’re going to make your lovely boyfriend so paranoid that he’ll be groveling at your feet.”

“And how the hell are we going to do that if he can’t see us?” Your eyes met with the mysterious demon and you felt hot under his gaze. Maybe it was because you couldn’t see his face and since it was Halloween, no one was going to question why he wore a mask.

“Who said he can’t see us?” His head tilts just a bit before he snaps his finger and suddenly when he snaps his finger and moves your stool just a bit—your boyfriend glances in your direction quickly. So quickly he did a double take at how close you were with the demon who popped up in your life this evening.

Your boyfriend’s eyes enlarged at the sight of you and what you were wearing and soon the demon snaps his fingers again. You watched as your boyfriend still glanced in your direction, but it was as if he simply was imagining things. He shook his head and went back to sipping his alcohol.

“He’s going to lose his mind by the end of the night.” The demon adds with confidence oozing from his tone.

“I guess, this will work. But, I must ask. Why’d the mask? Also, where are your horns? Don’t demons have horns?” You took it upon yourself to take the cocktail that the bartender just put on the bar since no one could see you two.

“I do have horns, just think the horns give everyone a good spook.” He points out. “Last time, a lady threw a glass at me. So, I settled with the mask and no horns.” He takes a sip from the beer bottle that the bartender sat in front of a talking customer next to him.

“Hm,” was the only thing you said. “Are you ugly? A lot of horror stories perceive demons as ugly.”

“Quite the opposite.” He backfires. “Can’t really haunt people's dreams to have sex with them and solve their problems if we’re ugly.” He jokes.

“Then can I see your face?” You asked, your fingers twirling the straw in your cocktail and you gave him a grin.

“After you stop being so uptight and help me…help you.” He finishes his beer and he stands up motioning for you to follow.

With a quickness, you’re downing your cocktail and following the man in the crowd. The music was so loud that you had to practically yell out anything you wanted him to hear. “What about your name? Do you have a name?”

“Simon, or Ghost. Whichever you prefer.” He walks over to the pool table, and leans against the pool table adjacent to the one your boyfriend and his friends were at.

You watched as some random woman dressed as a cheerleader placed her arms around your boyfriend's waist as he was trying to hit the pool ball. You felt jealousy, anger, and betrayal seeing this. He ditched your plans to be out with her. That douche.

“Don’t have such a down face.” Simon nudges your side before grabbing the pool table. “Like I said, we are going to make him lose his mind by the end of the night.” He grabs a hold of your waist after grabbing a pool stick. “Just go with the flow, love.” He whispered in your ear and you felt your skin decorated with goosebumps.

Simon helped guide your hand towards breaking the balls in the middle of the table. Despite the bar being fairly cool, you felt hot with how close he was to you. His crotch pressing against the fatness of your butt in the skin-tight mini skirt. His breath itching at the shell of your ear. Just as you are about to hit the ball, he snaps his fingers again making you two noticeable in the crowd of people. The sound of wolf whistles could be heard seeing your figure bent over—if Simon wasn’t here, strangers would have been to see what your momma gave you. There as Simon helps you break the group of balls perfectly, you squeal in excitement gaining the attention of your boyfriend’s friend and soon your boyfriend again. His face goes red at the sight of Simon’s hands all on you and you watch as he scrambles to remove the pretty woman off him. He made his way to the pool table, but Simon snapped his fingers again causing your boyfriend to be confused once again. Your eyes scan over his face while he shakes his head and mumbles something under his breath.

“And now he’s going to call you. But you’re going to ignore his call because that’s exactly what he’s been doing to you.” Simon leans against the pool table and the two of you watch as your boyfriend pulls out his phone to call you.

You were astonished at what you were viewing, he was panicking. The mere thought of you being with another man had him about to explode. You watch as your boyfriend runs his fingers through his hair, a thing he does when he’s overthinking his ass off. You knew for a fact that he was overthinking the fact that you were probably out having just as much fun as him.

“So, Simon. Do you have sex with all the women whose lives and dreams you hop into?”

“Not all of them. Some just want someone to talk to.” He shrugs. “You on the other hand just need someone to teach your nitwit of a boyfriend to appreciate what he has.” He adds.

“So, you wouldn’t have sex with me? Just put my boyfriend in check.” You playfully nudged his side and you were met with hardness.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” His eyes met yours and you were forced to swallow the large lump in your throat. “Because I may have known your boyfriend is an idiot, but I also know he hasn’t touched you in weeks…a month and a half to be exact.” He adds as he turns to face you. This time, he’s caging you from leaving since you were still resting on the pool table.

“I could have gone the sex route, but that wouldn’t solve your shitty boyfriend situation which would mean I would be stuck with you until you’re no longer miserable.” He says. “But, you and I know that you’re a good girl.” His hand adjusts the red devil horn headband on your head. “You wouldn’t cheat on him, even though..he’s probably going to cheat on you with her.” He motions to the brunette cheerleader who is still by your boyfriend's side even as he is attempting to call your phone.

“You don’t know me, Simon.” You pointed it out. “Only what you observe about my life.”

“Then do you want to prove me wrong, love?” His hand rests on your waist tugging you closer to him.

“I’m sure that’s what you’ll want.”

“It is, I’m not going to deny it. But, I’m not going to force it out of you. You’re a grown woman, use your words and make your own decision.” He drops his hands from your waist and walks away from you, disappearing in the crowd and towards the bathroom.

Like the touch-deprived woman you were, you followed before him. But just as you were walking to follow him in the bathroom, you bumped into your boyfriend. You expected your body to go right through his since Simon did snap his fingers, but you collided with your boyfriend’s shoulder gaining his attention. When he saw you, that look of shock appeared again and his lips parted to speak, but just as his hands reached out for you—your boyfriend's confused expression returned and his hand that went to grab at you, went right through you. You started to feel bad, but as you walked further away—seeing the woman clutch on your boyfriend made all the guilt that was bubbling inside of you burst.

You walked into the bathroom and it was filled with many girls fixing their makeup and drunkenly complimenting each other. Bit by bit they scattered out the bathroom when they heard some generic pop song come on. Simon was leaning against the pink-colored tile walls waiting.

“So, you’ve made your decision?” He asked with his arms crossed over his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t be in here if I didn’t.”

Simon chuckles at your words before he brings his hands to the fabric of the black mask. You were preparing yourself for what you were about to see. You knew he was attractive behind the mask, his whole demeanor screamed it. The way he carried himself. His confidence. You can go on and still be naming many other attributes.

He pulls the mask out and you have to catch yourself from letting your jaw drop. Despite his face being decorated with scars, you had questions about—he still looked like he could have the face of an angel. His dirty blonde colored strands were ruffled due to the mask and his eyes—you’d stared upon them all night but finally putting a face to them made your knees go weak.

You walked closer towards him, “Will they see us?” You asked as you glanced back at the door.

“Only if you want.” He closes the gap between you two.

You mentally were weighing out the pros and cons of this. Frankly, the pros benefit you much more than the cons. So you took that leap and kissed Simon immediately. The sound of the bathroom door swung open, and someone walked in to grab a paper towel. Because of Simon and his silly demon powers, they didn’t even know you two were there. The drunken stranger walked right through you and Simon as you were making out. His hands roamed your body as if you were a precious gem he had just found. Your body attempted to guide him into one of the stalls, but he didn’t budge. You weren’t sure if it was because he had other plans in mind or if it was because of his huge stature.

“It’s not like anyone could see us.” Simon's words mumble against your skin as he places kisses on your neck. His body guides you towards the bathroom sink before he twirls you around.

You were forced to stare at yourself in the mirror at your reflection. The clear lip gloss that formerly stained your lips was smudged across your face. Your eyes were glossy of anticipation and need for a demon you had just met. The feeling of his bulge pressing against your butt causes you to close your eyes and inhale sharply.

“That’s true, but—one mere snap could make them see us.” You spoke out.

“They’ll be too intoxicated to notice.” His eyes met yours in the mirror before he rolled the skirt that left practically nothing for imagination up around your waist. The coolness of the bathroom causes your skin to be garnished with little goosebumps and your hair to stand up on your limbs, you clutch upon the porcelain sink.

You only hum at Simon’s words while he pulls your panties to the side and begins to line himself to insert you after removing his cock from his bottoms. The tip of his cock rubs against your wet folds collecting the essence that stains the inside of your thighs. Each push forward into your pussy, the grip on your waist grew tighter. The sound of his cries of pleasure was like music to your ears. Completely distracting you from the fact that his cock was stretching you out bit by bit.

“Just give me the go and I’ll keep going, love.” He professes. His eyes once more meeting yours and seeing the way your lips part apart to let out a broken moan, gave him the answer he ached to hear. His hips push forward being met with the cushion of your ass and he just wondered with not being touched in so long, how do you like to be fucked.

“How’d you want, Y/N?” Simon questions, his hips rolling in a slow and sensational way causing you to moan some more. “Slow.” He adds before pulling himself fully out of your cunt. “Or.” His voice trails off as he’s lining himself back up to slam inside your addicting pussy again. “Hard.”

Your brain couldn’t comprehend his question quickly enough because he soon gave you a mixture of both. Slow strokes to have you crying out his name as if the people entering and exiting the bathroom could hear you. Fast and hard strokes to have your breath hitch in your throat and for you to hold onto the surface tighter.

The vulgar sound of skin slapping against each other begins to ring in your ears like a sweet jazz tune. Your hand reaches back behind you to slow down Simon’s movement, but he swats your hand away as if it were a mere inconvenience to him. Simon lifts the shirt he wore to bring it up to his mouth. Despite the two of your bodies already crossing a boundary, he needed you to be closer. His teeth held up the ends of his shirt as he thrust forward inside you. Simon has pleasured many people in the world, but nothing was like this. No one has ever clutched around his hardened cock like this. Sweat beads form on his forehead and he felt completely pussy drunk for you.

Your knees were growing weak but, Simon assured you that you don’t fall. With each stroke and thrust, he held you closer to make sure his motion didn’t get interrupted. Tears decorate your lashline causing your mascara to smudge.

“Fuck.” You moaned out. “I’m so clos-” Your words were interrupted by the bathroom door swinging open and your boyfriend walked in making out with the brunette who seemed to be attached by his hip all evening.

“Don’t pay attention to him, only me.” His fingers coil into your hair tugging you up so that your back is pressed against his chest. His eyes never broke eye contact with you in the mirror. “It’s just me and you in here, right?” He questions as he thrusts inside of you.

Your eyes averted to your boyfriend as he was making out with the girl, but he broke the kiss quickly. “I just need to call her, ensure she’s okay. She hasn’t answered my calls and that’s not like her.”

“Hmm, wonder what she’s doing.” Simon teasingly whispers in your ear. “Is she home watching her silly little Halloween movies or is she getting fucked like a slut in a bathroom?” With each word, he thrusts inside you.

“She’s probably just sleeping.” The brunette pecks your boyfriend’s lips. “Or getting fucked.” She jokes and your boyfriend pushes her away.

“That’s not funny.” He says before he tries to leave the bathroom and through the sound of your heated flesh slapping against Simon’s toned thighs, his finger snaps just in time for your boyfriend to see a glimpse of his pretty girlfriend (who he assumed was home) getting fucked a stranger he didn’t know.

Your boyfriend’s eyes enlarged at the sight but before he could fully react, Simon snapped his fingers once more causing the two of you to be merely an illusion once more. Your boyfriend ran his hand over his face finally coming to terms that he had to get out of here. He had to ensure that you were home right where he assumed you were. As Simon continued to fuck you until you were seeing stars, your paranoid boyfriend rushed out of the bathroom calling your phone that was still home. Each second, your phone went to voice mail causing your boyfriend to spiral even more at the thought that a handsome stranger had you bent over in the bar he frequently goes to.

“And my work here is done, love. Sweets dreams.” Simon kisses the side of your temple just in time for you to finally orgasm all over his cock—but eventually, jolt up in your bedroom in a cold sweat and your panties soaked.

Instantly, your hands run over your body where Simon formerly touched. Your fingertips dance upon your lips that he once kissed trying to process everything that just happened. He did say you were dreaming, but it felt so real. The demon costume hugging your body like a latex glove felt real. Simon’s cock being inside you felt real.

But your suspicions were deemed true as your boyfriend burst through the room in a panic. Sweat droplets embellish his forehead as if he ran all the way home to you.

“Y/N, did you go out tonight?” Your boyfriend asked.

With false confusion plastered on your face, you blinked a couple of times.

“No, is everything okay? Maybe you’re being just a bit paranoid, babe.”

And in his own realm which was the home of incubus demons around the world, Simon viewed the conversation unfold with a smirk.

“That’s my girl.”

⸻ TAGS // @syndrlla97 @leoyayzies @salaciousdoll @xintothewoodswegox @bxrbie1 @lilvampirina @wiinterz @dvafoxxystrashcan

#simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty smut #ghost smut #ghost x reader #female reader #call of duty x reader #video game x reader #angelshubnetwork #chosoistkinktober23 #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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formulaforza · 1 year

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diamond ring-- c.leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 990 a/n: i melt i melt i melttttt

He told Lorenzo he was going to marry you on the plane from France to Austria. He’d kissed you goodbye at four in the morning in your shared hotel room because you had a flight to catch back to Monaco for work that morning. You were supposed to leave the night before, right after the race on Sunday, but, you didn’t want to leave him to his thoughts, so you changed your flight.

You’ve known her for eight months, his brother told him, eight months and you want to marry her?

Charles had laughed, shrugged, nodded. “I just. I know.”

It wasn’t until after the season ended that he finally got to the jewelers. One in Paris, because he thought a million people would notice him ring shopping in Monaco. He’d made Pierre come along, for moral support, and FaceTimed his mother for a woman’s perspective.

They were at the jewler’s for three hours, and looked at just about every ring there was in the whole place before Charles finally decided that he needed to create something custom for you. Sounds like your girl is one of a kind, the associate helping them said, maybe she needs a ring to match. It’s another hour and a half before he’d made his decisions. He calls them once he’s home and three days later and is still making changes.

Once it’s actually in his hands, little velvet box and all, his worry shifts to how to ask you. It has to be perfect, he thinks. Something you’ll beam about in twenty years when you tell your kids all about Mom and Dad’s love story. He could do it on a Monday morning over coffee, him on his way to the gym and you barely up, pajama clad and hugging a coffee mug like your life depends on it. He could do it after a long day at the track, where he’s exhausted and looking for a fight and you let him be, let him feel what he needs to feel. He could do it whenever, wherever, and as long as it was with you, it would be perfect for him.

It needed to be perfect for you. He thought about filling the apartment with a million roses and balloons and champagne. It was private but grand. He thought about the cinema classics–a restaurant full of people, a ring in the desert. You would probably swallow it, he figured. Maybe he could do it in an airport–no. That idea didn’t even last long enough to become complete in his mind. You would kill him, everyone else in the airport would kill him. Just, no. Scratch the aiprort.

Maybe out on the water, in the middle of a day of fun. He could do it then, in the heat of the sun and in the salty air just off the coast. What if you said no? Then he’s stuck with you, on a boat, in the middle of the ocean. That’s like…nightmare fuel, the stuff that haunts his dreams for six straight nights.

He decides he’s going to do it at the beach. One of the private ones that nobody is really supposed to know about but everyone does, the one he’d referred to as his secret spot when he’d first met you. The one you’d named with a deadpan expression on your face right after he said that stupid, cheesy line.

He forced Joris and Antoine to hide in the bushes far out of your sight on the evening he finally did it. The sun was setting on the French Riviera and every color in the sky seemed to highlight something stunning about you, complimenting your eyes, your dress, your hair, your smile. The wind ran its fingers through your hair and danced in the flowing fabric of your dress and he thought he could never be deserving of you, all good and right and ethereal like this. He couldn’t wait to spend his entire life trying to live up to the standard that was you.

There was a picnic spot set up in the sand at the end of the beach. “I love that,” you’d commented when you saw it, clueless that it was there for you. “It's so sweet.”

"It's for you," he hums, voice shaky and nervous.

"What?"

He says your name, all sweet and soft and you know. You don’t know, because you never really know until it’s happening, but, you know. “Charles,” You beam back at him with giddy, hopeful eyes. You are just as enamored as he is. He repeats your name again, draws out the sounds of the last syllable and you both laugh, fight back tears because this is really happening and you don’t want a single memory to be clouded and fuzzy with love in its purest, saltiest form.

“I love you in ways words will never be able to explain,” He starts. “In the early mornings and the late nights and the average afternoons, I am completely in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, trying to find the words,” he continues. You laugh, choked and teary, soft fingers on your smile in disbelief. He pulls a tiny velvet box from the inside pocket of his jacket and drops to one knee in the sand. “So,” he laughs, pops open the box and you’re eyes are too fixed on the man you love to even look at the ring. “Will you marry me?”

You smile, try so hard not to cry only for them to fall down your cheeks anyway. You nod, hold your left hand out for him. “Yeah?” He says, pulls the ring from the box and slides it on your finger. Perfect fit.

“Of course I’ll marry you, you idiot.” You grin, both laugh, curl over to kiss him while he’s still on his knees in the sand. “I love you so much,” you tell him, hands on either side of his face, kiss him again.

“I love you, too.”

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #cl16 #f1 #f1 blurb #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 2023 #ferrari f1 #scuderia ferrari #ferrari #mack's 10 days of fluff #day 9

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adore-laur · 5 months

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DADRRY: PART TWO

— part one

——

The Styles household is missing a vital component this weekend. Harry isn't home, which is a rare occurrence, but duty is called at the most inconvenient moment. It had been a little after five in the morning when he received a blaring phone call from his boss. His snores had abruptly stopped as he fumbled around to answer the call before speaking groggily with a pinch to his eyebrows that would indeed induce a splitting headache.

You were still half-asleep when it happened, and all you can remember seeing was Harry running his hands over his face after he hung up. He then slid out of bed with a quiet groan and took a shower. It didn't take long for you to realize that he had been called in to work. His pragmatic side refused to leave the restaurant severely understaffed, and you understood his decision.

Before he slipped out the door, a minty kiss was given to the corner of your lips, and he whispered, "Love you." You later awoke to a cold and empty bed, and it felt uncomfortable without his warm body pressed against you.

It's a quarter after eight now, and you assume Harry will be done working after lunchtime. Your daughter will undoubtedly be confused about why he isn't here to cook a breakfast buffet and carry her down to the beach for a morning swim like he does every weekend. You're dreading telling her because she could throw a toddler fit at any moment, especially when sleepy.

With a suppressed yawn, you reach for your phone on the nightstand and text Harry. You'll try to make his shift less chaotic.

I'm sorry you had to go in today. I hope it goes by quickly. We'll see you when you get home! I love you.

You hope you can ease some of his frustration. He becomes grouchy when work obligations are thrown at him at the last minute, and working on a Saturday could be extra stressful since he doesn't know the weekend menu and preparation like he used to. Despite that, he's a professional, so you can count on him to push through and adapt.

Eventually, you start your day by walking to the balcony overlooking the coast. Your daughter will wake soon, so you bask in the soothing moment alone. Below the balcony is where all the beach toys live — floaties, buckets for building sandcastles, and even a foldable lounge chair Harry spoiled your daughter with on her last birthday. It's your family's subtle mark on the world, and it ignites a strong feeling in your chest. You built this life with Harry, from every little toy on the sand to the oceanside memories the three of you will always cherish.

Your reminiscing ends as the brisk morning breeze ripples goosebumps over your arms and legs. Your mind naturally drifts to the thought of Harry and how tomorrow will be his only day off before he has to pound out five straight days of work again. He's dedicated to his career and tries desperately to leave his stress at work instead of bringing it home, but you have a feeling he'll be spent today.

You hear soft footsteps padding down the hallway as you think of something you could do to cheer him up. You smile and walk back inside, meeting your baby girl's puffy eyes and lost expression. Your heart immediately crumbles. Harry is always the one to wake her on the weekends. After waking up, you'll often see them already at the kitchen table, either sharing a slice of buttered toast or creating faces on their pancakes using an assortment of fruit.

Kneeling to her height, you brush tangled curls out of her eyes. "Good morning, sleepyhead. I know Dad was supposed to wake you up, but he had to go to work. He'll be home in a few hours, okay?"

Her lips pout. She's currently in a clingy phase, so not seeing her dad when she usually does has her understandably upset.

You gently shush her to try and stop any forthcoming tears. "I know, sweetheart. Let's eat some breakfast, and then we can think of something to do for him before he comes home," you say, not wanting to deal with a meltdown this early.

She nods and sulks toward the kitchen, with you closely behind. You make frozen chocolate chip waffles with a lousy side of green grapes. It's nothing compared to what Harry would make, but it'll have to suffice. You sit next to her and cautiously watch her eat so she doesn't shove big bites into her tiny mouth. She still looks visibly upset.

The vacant chair across the table mocks you. It feels bizarre not having him here talking about the day's plans or what's for dinner. You can't remember the last time he had to work during the weekend. The restaurant's management has always been top-notch, and the employees are usually punctual, but there must have been someone sick or an unforeseen scheduling issue.

"Can you think of something to do for him?" you ask your daughter.

She silently mopes and picks at her waffle. You'll have to think for both of you.

You could have lunch made for him when he gets home, but you're not sure if he'd be hungry with being around food all morning. On top of that, he'll be exhausted and will most definitely want to take a nap. A better idea would be to visit him at work at the end of his shift. He'd appreciate it.

"Would you want to go and see him at the restaurant?" you suggest, stealing one of her grapes.

That gets her. Her eyes focus on you as she excitedly bobs her head. You grin and kiss her temple before cleaning the remnants of breakfast.

"I'm going to shower, and then I'll help you get ready," you tell her while lifting her out of the highchair. She gallops to her room without another word, clearly in a much happier mood than before.

You pull out your phone and ask Harry what time he works until. Since you want to surprise him, you send a vague text. You're not worried about getting a response soon, so you check on your daughter and find her playing with her toys, then head to the bedroom to take a quick shower.

After that, you're met with a new text message.

Harry: 1:30 or 2. Everyone is in a bad mood. The breakfast rush was a disaster. Someone called in because they were hungover. How are you guys doing? Sorry if she's cranky because of me.

You: That sucks. Only five more hours, though. And she's fine, just a little mopey. Have a good rest of your shift, baby.

Three dots immediately pop up.

Harry: Tell her I miss and love her. I'll call you during my lunch break if it's not swamped.

You: Will do.

You shut your phone off and find things to do around the house to make time pass faster — cleaning, playing with dolls, and even baking brownies. When it finally hits one o'clock, you pick out an outfit. It's not too hot outside, so you wear a long sundress that flows prettily. You then dry your hair and let it loose, knowing Harry likes it that way.

Entering your daughter's bedroom, you find her still playing with dolls on the plush carpet. A yellow gingham dress and white Mary Janes lay on her bed. You grab them, help her into the cute outfit, and then brush through her wild curls.

Once you both are ready, you grab your keys and head out the front door. You strap your daughter in the Volvo's car seat before settling behind the wheel. It takes fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant, so you put on a Disney playlist for her to listen to on the way there.

When you eventually pull into the parking lot, it appears busy. You couldn't imagine working at a restaurant on a Saturday during the summer. Once parked, you unbuckle your daughter and hike her up on your hip before walking around the back. There's an employee door that leads to the kitchen without having to walk through the entire building. You've visited Harry on his lunch breaks before, even before you got married. When you first started dating him, you remember how he would wait outside in his chef coat, standing against the brick wall. When he'd spot you, he'd meet you halfway and trap you in his arms, kissing and hugging you until he had to clock back in.

Now, you walk through the door with a mini version of you and him clinging to your side.

The kitchen is bustling, the smell of sizzling meats and vegetables instantly invading your senses. Dishes clang in the sink, so you assume they must have just finished serving lunch. Everyone recognizes you by now, and they offer a friendly smile or wave before resuming their respective duties.

You scan the room for Harry but can't find him anywhere.

"He's in the employee bathroom," says a man you've seen before as he passes you. "He needed a break. The lunch rush was a nightmare."

If the breakfast rush was a disaster, and the lunch rush was a nightmare…

"Oh no," you mumble. It must have been bad for everyone today. "I'll go check on him."

You wander toward the bathroom door and knock twice. The familiar clearing of Harry's throat is muffled on the other side.

"Yeah?" he says hoarsely. His nose sounds plugged up. Has he been crying?

"It's me, honey. Can I come in?"

It's silent for a few seconds before you hear the lock turn. You crack the door open and step inside before turning and locking it again. When you meet Harry's gaze, your heart sinks. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, his chef coat is unbuttoned, and his curls fall over his forehead. He looks so worn out.

Yet it all goes away momentarily when he sees who you have on your hip. He gives the slightest smile before sniffling and taking her from you, hugging her tightly while her arms throw themselves around his shoulders. His eyes stay trained on yours, offering a nod as if to convince you he's okay.

You close the short distance and run your hand through his tousled hair. Your thumb then grazes the faint wetness under his eyes before you squeeze the apple of his cheek and give him a sympathetic smile. He leans forward and plants a tender kiss on your lips. It tastes like bell peppers.

"Are you okay?" you murmur with concern.

Harry sighs and says, "Not really. It was six hours of nonstop orders and running around. We're so understaffed, baby. Everyone kept pissing each other off." He sniffles. "I just want to go home."

"Are you done for the day? I can help clean up or something."

"I have to take the meatballs out for dinner service. They're almost done, then we can go."

"Do you want to help him take the meatballs out?" you ask your daughter. Her head snaps up with lightning speed, making you and Harry laugh.

"Yes, please," answers her soft voice.

Harry sets her down and takes her tiny hand before leading her out of the bathroom and toward the ovens. Sure enough, a large sheet of seasoned meatballs is cooking in one of them. "Four more minutes, and then we can take them out," he tells her.

She kneels in front of the oven, watching them closely. Harry smiles fondly and grabs a spare chef hat from under a nearby counter. He places it on her head and crouches next to her.

After admiring them for a while, you stand behind Harry and massage his shoulders. His head rolls back as he looks at you upside down, dazzling you with his handsome face.

Once the timer beeps, Harry carefully opens the oven and grabs two mitts, putting one on his hand and one on your daughters'. He slides the baking sheet out so he can grip the edge while he maneuvers her hand to grip the other side. With slow and cautious movements, they successfully set it on the stovetop. Harry quietly cheers and high-fives her, then takes their mitts off. She looks so proud of herself.

"I was thinking we could go to the supermarket and get ingredients for date night tomorrow," you say as Harry washes his hands.

"Yeah, we should do that," he replies, hanging up his chef coat. "I have some recipes saved on my phone."

His outfit is somewhat wrinkled—a cream-colored button-up untucked from grey trousers. After he removes his work shoes and slips on white loafers, he wipes a clean rag over his face to get rid of the buildup of sweat and grease.

"Do you want to ride with him?" you ask your daughter. "We're stopping at the store on our way home."

She nods and raises her arms for him. He picks her up and clocks himself out before escorting you to the parking lot. Harry buckles his girl in the Bentley while you get in the Volvo. He then saunters to the open driver's side window and casually rests his arms on it.

"Are my eyes still red?" he asks, rubbing them with his knuckles.

"Don't rub them; it'll make it worse," you say. "But they're not too bad. I'm sorry today was stressful, Harry."

"It's fine. Hopefully, management gets their shit together so I won't have to come in on my days off. They know my weekends are important." Harry stares into the distance and mumbles, "It's that idiot's fault for getting wasted the night before his opening shift."

"Hey, stop dwelling on it. The hard part is over. Now, you get to go home and take a nap. Plus, you have off all day tomorrow."

"You're right." He readjusts his footing and focuses intently on you. "By the way, I like your pretty little outfit."

"Thank you. Your clothes are so wrinkly."

He scoffs lightheartedly. "Wow. What a nice compliment."

"No, you look great," you say, backtracking. "It's just such a dad outfit."

"I guess that's better than when you say I dress like a grandpa."

"A cute grandpa." Before he can reply, you say, "Let's get out of here."

"'Kay," he says, rhythmically tapping his fingers on the car. "Bye, my love. Please drive safely."

You start the engine and crank up the air conditioner. "The store is literally a street away, and you'll be following me. I think I'll be okay."

Harry rolls his eyes. "Let me worry about you, yeah? Traffic was awful this morning."

"I know, I know. You, however, need to drive even more safely. You've got a baby on board."

"She's not a baby anymore."

"Don't say that. I'll start crying."

He laughs. "Please don't. Crying while driving isn't safe."

"I'm kidding. Sort of. Okay, we're wasting time. Begone." You wave him off and roll up the window, but Harry knocks on it offendedly.

You groan and roll it back down. "What do you want?"

"Uh, a kiss goodbye? Am I chopped liver to you?"

"You're so dramatic."

Harry leans in until half of his torso is through the open window. He puckers his lips, and you give him a searing kiss. He hums, satisfied, then gives you a peck on the cheek before retreating.

He always gets his way.

——

Shopping started wonderfully. It truly did.

Now, not so much. Your daughter is throwing a tantrum in the beverage aisle with wails and crocodile tears galore, all because you won't buy chocolate milk for her. You keep reiterating that there's a jug at home, but according to her, it's not the same. Harry is on the opposite side of the store, finding a specific type of rice needed for the date night recipe he picked out, so you're left trying to diffuse her outburst alone. You hope he'll heroically come down the aisle any minute.

Your skin feels hot and prickly as you attempt to calm her down, but she's stubborn like her dad. Usually, she'll listen, but there are scarce fits that she unleashes at full power. It's absolute torture enduring them while simultaneously trying to subside them.

No one really talks about the humiliating parts of raising a child. The most common example is dealing with tantrums in public places where everyone stares at you with subtle judgment.

It's almost comical how she plopped herself on the cold, hard tiles as she cried to no one in particular. An impulsive thought made you want to tell her that she was just embarrassing herself, but you resisted. There was no need to make her cry even harder.

Just in time, Harry comes speeding down the aisle with a frazzled look and a bag of rice in his hand. He takes in your defeated expression, then glances at the cause of it. He huffs — relieved that it's not an emergency — and crouches to her height.

"I told her I won't buy chocolate milk because we already have some at home," you explain, trying to blink back frustrated tears. "They're different brands, and I guess that's a massive problem."

Harry sighs while looking at your daughter sternly. He'll often take a soft approach, but you know this tantrum is worse than others. She rarely gets temperamental in public.

"That's enough," he scolds firmly. "We have some at home that you can drink, okay? You listen to your mother when she tells you no."

Her sobs weaken, yet her tears still fall. She sniffles and stares at you with those devastating eyes before choking out another raspy sob. She starts to run away, but Harry's paternal instincts have him standing with a displeased groan and catching up to her. He scoops her up using one arm and secures her over his shoulder so she can't escape. She begins squirming and screaming, causing you to tiredly run your hands down your face.

"All right, let's go," he says, his body practically a punching bag for her little fists and feet. "You're being a brat."

Harry roughly passes the rice to you and then takes her to the car. You release the breath you were holding and decide to just buy the chocolate milk anyway, so you don't have to deal with whatever that was again. You also find the other ingredients before heading to the checkout area to pay. The monotone beeping of the scanning gun keeps you from crying in front of the cashier.

Being a parent is draining. People warned you, but it's ten times harder than they make it out to be. Sometimes, you feel like a bad parent for not being able to control your child. You've had conversations with Harry about how he feels the same way. You know it's completely normal to feel guilt, shame, and insecurity, but it doesn't make those thoughts any less heartbreaking to conquer.

It's just one difficult day. You always get through it.

Once you leave the store, you spot Harry setting up a movie to play for your daughter on the small screen that's hooked to the back of his headrest. You don't hear any crying, so you assume he successfully calmed her down.

Harry eventually sees you in his peripheral and gives you the tiniest wave. You almost fall apart at his gentleness as you walk to your car. Your daughter probably doesn't want to see you right now, plus you don't want to set her off again, so you just get in the driver's seat and bite down on your bottom lip to keep the tears at bay.

After a few moments, you hear Harry's car door shut and footsteps walk closer. It's enough to make the first sob escape. Harry's attentive and caring nature can always break the dam if you're sensitive enough.

He opens the door on your side and immediately brings you in for a warm, consoling embrace. You let out soft cries in his arms, his hand cradling the back of your head as he shushes and sways you. His presence alone is enough to patch the holes made from today.

"She's good now," he murmurs, his cheek nuzzling the side of your head. "It's okay. We'll talk about it later. Let's go home first."

You nod, just wanting to be in the comfort of your own home. Harry reaches over your legs and opens the center console to pull out a small package of tissues he knows you keep in there. He takes one out and dries your tears while gently cupping your cheek.

"Today's been weird with you being gone. It's not your fault, but I guess we're not used to it. Sorry for crying."

"Hey, stop that," he replies quietly. "I cried, too. It's good to cry. What do we always say to each other? Parenting isn't easy, and we're learning every day. We're in this together, right?"

This time, you start crying at his loving words, and you can't help but start laughing at both of your messy states. He cradles the back of your head and kisses your forehead several times. "Are you good to drive?" he asks, his hands gripping the top of the car as his foot plants itself by your seat.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." You nod your head toward the grocery bags in the backseat. "I bought the milk so she doesn't hate me forever. Is she still mad at me?"

"I had a little talk with her. Told her to give you a big hug when we get home, so be prepared."

"Thank you for handling her. I love you."

"Love you more," he says. "I'm sorry for throwing the rice in your hands, by the way."

You wave him off. "Doesn't matter."

"Okay." The door begins to shut. "Drive safe."

"Excuse me, am I chopped liver to you?" you repeat what he said earlier. "Leaving me without a kiss?"

Harry runs his tongue across his teeth. "You've got snot in your nose, so I think I'll pass," he teases as he walks away.

"Hey! I kissed you in the gross restaurant bathroom after you were crying."

He just shrugs smugly. You grin and start driving.

——

After you arrived home, Harry took a short nap and later made a seafood dinner. Your daughter also gave you a bone-crushing hug, as promised, but you're sure it was only because she saw you bought the chocolate milk she wanted.

Now, you are all at the house's private beach area to get some fresh air. Harry puts swim floaties on your daughter's arms while you bring out her plastic sandcastle-building tools. The sky is a dull blue, and the coastal breeze is pleasantly warm.

Even when it's gloomy, your family feels like sunshine.

Once her floaties are secure, she runs into the ocean to splash around — she knows not to let the water rise past her waist. You set her tools by the shore and look at Harry with your hands on your hips, waiting for him to start the activity he came up with. He suggested that the both of you pass a football around for some reason, and you couldn't think of anything else to do, so you agreed. He's changed into yellow swim trunks, a blue tie-dye shirt, and black sunglasses on his face. His feet are bare, and he's holding a football. You don't remember ever owning one, so you have no idea where he grabbed it.

"Ready?" he calls out over the wind.

"Sure!" you call back, showing him your palms so you can catch it. "Please don't throw it too hard!"

"You act like I'm an NFL player. Stop stroking my ego, love."

"Just throw the ball, Harry."

He stances up and peers at you over his sunglasses as if to tell you to get ready. He brings his arm back over his head and throws it. It goes left and doesn't even reach you.

"Nice throw," you say sarcastically as you pick it up. "You're really giving Aaron Rodgers a run for his money."

Harry briefly scowls at your comment, and you glance back to see him jogging toward you. You try to run away from him, but he quickly lurches forward and lifts you. You squeal as he spins you around before setting you down and stealing the ball.

After twenty minutes of Harry's horrible football skills, the both of you decide to lie on the hammock close to the water. You and Harry can fit on it together, so you curl into his side as he throws one arm around your shoulder to keep you near. Lightly swaying in the wind, you enjoy the peaceful serenity of where you live. Your daughter is still in view, collecting shells along the shore. The waves rush forward and then retreat. The clouds hang low in a sheath of grey. It's a sight to behold.

Harry kisses your cheek softly before murmuring, "Wanna talk about earlier?"

"We probably should," you reply, propping yourself up with your elbow.

"Talk to me about how you felt," he says, taking off his sunglasses. "Lay it all on me."

You shift your gaze to your daughter. "I just... I know we've dealt with her tantrums before. But that one in the store was the worst one, you know? I've dealt with them alone when you're at work, and I know you deal with them when I'm gone, too. She's usually so well-behaved in public and I kind of froze when she threw a fit. She wouldn't listen to me no matter what."

Harry nods, paying full attention as you continue, "And I was embarrassed because people stared at me and probably wondered why I can't control my child. She's such a sweet girl, but it's those stubborn moods she gets in that frustrate me. I don't want to yell at her either because that will upset her more. Then I almost started crying at the checkout because I felt so ashamed that you had to step in to help. And I know we're a team, but I felt useless." You finish with watery eyes while watching your sweet baby girl pick up a seashell and place it in her little self-made pile of others.

Harry brings you closer and kisses your temple before responding in a voice that's just above a whisper. "Everything you just said, I understand entirely. I feel the same way sometimes. Remember when you were out with your friends, and I was home alone when she was just a baby? How I called you bawling my eyes out because she wouldn't let me hold her? She kept wailing, and I tried everything, but absolutely nothing worked. And I felt so shitty because my entire job as a dad is to take care of her, yet I couldn't even do that. I was so scared that she was done with me. But like I told you today... we're learning. We're in this together until she moves out and gets sick of—"

You kiss him mid-sentence. "Don't say that, please. She's not even three yet. I don't want to think about her moving out."

Harry squeezes your shoulder and says, "Sorry. But you get the point, yeah?" He slides his hand up your neck and through your hair. "You're the best mum. I'm so grateful you can come to me and talk through these insecurities. We're never too old to talk about it."

The sun peeks from the clouds, and you take in Harry's features, now basking in golden light. "You're the best dad and husband I could ever want. Thank you for being my shoulder to cry on and for always listening to me. No matter how big or small the problem is."

"I love you," he whispers, thumbing along your cheekbone. Did my sweet-talking give you flutters?"

"Oh, it's fluttering. For sure."

"I've still got the moves," he says, pumping his fist.

As you snuggle into his arms, your daughter prances over with a sand dollar in her palm. She clumsily clambers on top of Harry and holds it up to his face. His head retracts to look at it, and he smiles widely at her discovery even though she already has about seven sand dollars in her bedroom.

"For me?" he asks with exaggerated surprise.

She nods. "Because you had to work."

Your heart melts at her sweetness. Harry looks over at you and raises his eyebrows before looking back at her. "Yeah? Thank you, baby. And where's mommy's present for getting you chocolate milk?"

Her face drops, and she quickly climbs off before returning to her seashell pile. You laugh and hide your face in Harry's shoulder. Even through the hardships, you feel like the luckiest person on the planet every single day.

Once the sun sets, you all walk to the house and settle in the backyard. It's a spacious area with two reclined chairs and trees surrounding them, string lights strung across their branches. It's one of your favorite spaces. It's where you and Harry snag some alone time after your daughter goes to bed or where slow dances and conversations about the future happen.

Slow dancing still happens, but a certain little girl likes to join this time.

You venture inside momentarily and grab your music speaker, then head to your bedroom to steal one of Harry's old shirts for your daughter to wear as pajamas. It'll fit more like a dress on her, but she sleeps better with his scent engulfing her. Truthfully, you can't blame her.

Outside, Harry is letting your daughter look through his phone for a song to play. He helps her scroll through a playlist he created for sleep troubles. You unzip her dress and take it off as Harry helps maneuver her so you can pull the shirt over her head. She practically drowns in it.

Once she chooses a song, you turn the speaker on so his phone can connect. The flute that begins playing is familiar — "Constant as the Stars Above" from Barbie as Rapunzel. Harry sometimes hums it to her when he tucks her in at night.

He sets her down and lets her stand on top of his feet with her Mary Janes. They dance under the moonlight, Harry holding her hands above her head as he twirls her. She tiredly giggles, and you check your phone to see that it's way past her bedtime. You can't bring yourself to disrupt the moment, so you admire their special bond for the next few minutes.

When her eyes start drooping, you carry her inside and lay her in bed before calling it a night. Getting to wake up with your family tomorrow puts a dreamy smile on your face as you fall asleep to the sound of distant ocean waves.

——

Sunday mornings are medicine for the soul.

A delicious assortment of food is on the counters as Harry gracefully travels around the kitchen to flip pancakes on the griddle or crack eggs into the pan. He's entirely in his element with tortoiseshell glasses over his sleepy eyes and a white robe tied around his body. Your daughter sits in her highchair at the kitchen table, her curls sticking up every which way. She's in her own world eating dry Cheerios.

Whenever Harry passes by her to set plates or cups down, he ruffles her hair and kisses her cheek, sometimes even stealing a piece of cereal from her. She turns around with a pout before smiling because Harry playfully looks around the room and whistles nonchalantly like he didn't do it.

Once all of you are sitting down with plates full of Harry's five-star breakfast, you discuss plans for the day. Your daughter is spending the night with Harry's mother since it's date night for you and him. She's leaving right before dinnertime, so she'll still be spending a good portion of the day with the both of you.

Harry plans to cook Chinese food tonight, and you plan on getting him to watch The Bachelorette with you. He told you he was absolutely not doing that, yet you know that once it's on, he'll become engrossed with the drama. He'll pretend he doesn't like it but then bombard you with questions about who hates who.

It hits five in the evening fairly quickly and your daughter just left with no fuss. You hope she doesn't have another one of her temper tantrums.

Harry has changed out of his pajamas and into a white T-shirt with a baseball hat turned backward. He also has a bit of scruff from not shaving for the past week.

There are days when you look at his outfit and think he looks like a dad more than usual. Today is one of those days. He has a black apron tied around his waist as he boils water for the rice. You'll never get tired of watching him cook. He's so focused and delicate with his hands, whether chopping vegetables or sprinkling seasoning.

You sit on the counter and watch him. While he waits for the water to heat, his hands place themselves on either side of your legs. You smile as he slides his warm hand under your sweatshirt and strokes his thumb against your stomach. There are permanent stretch marks indented on your skin from being pregnant. You tried to get rid of them by using expensive creams and exercising. After a while, you gave up and slowly but surely accepted that your body helped grow and bring a child into the world, and there would forever be proof of it. Harry had helped tremendously with seeking acceptance. He never forced you to love the physical changes. He was the one helping you put on creams and looking for workouts to do with you. He never pushed you.

His thumb continues stroking your soft skin, and his eyes are zoned out on the floor. You wonder what he's thinking about.

"The water's boiling," you whisper to snap him out of his trance.

Harry stands straight and clears his throat. He pours the rice in, and your hand raises to scratch the stubble along his jaw. He tilts his head and kisses your palm.

Once dinner is done—two savory Chinese chicken and fried rice bowls—the two of you sit across from each other and dig in. As Harry chews, you notice he's off in his own world again. You nudge your foot against his.

"Where's your mind tonight?"

He blinks quickly. "Sorry. Were you saying something?"

"No, just observing you," you say with a soft smile. "You were daydreaming when you were making dinner, too. Just making sure you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm good. I just… wanted to talk to you about something before we go to bed. Nothing bad, I promise."

"We can talk after we watch The Bachelorette. That's more important."

He rolls his eyes and replies, "I guess I'll watch it with you."

The both of you clean up after finishing your meals, then head to the couch and tune in to the show. You've been recording episodes after they premiere since you're usually too tired after work to stay up and watch them in full. You're about halfway through the season, and this is the first episode you've been able to watch with Harry. Or, well, force him to watch. He hates all the crying and stupid fights. Not to mention how you always talk about how cute the guys are.

Your favorite contestant appears on screen, and you gasp. "That's Greg! Isn't he adorable? I want him to win."

"He looks like he finishes too fast," Harry comments flatly.

You scoff. "Looks like you guys have something in common, then."

"I will shut this off and delete the recording," he threatens under his breath.

"I'd divorce you. I'm not kidding."

"And leave me for Greg? You wouldn't."

You just huff and continue watching Greg get some action in a hot tub with the bachelorette. When there's a commercial break, you lay your head in Harry's lap.

"If you were the bachelorette and I was a contestant, would you pick me?" he asks after a few moments.

"No."

He pinches your side. "Liar."

"It's true," you admit honestly. "You'd try too hard. You wouldn't kiss me the first night to seem like a gentleman. And then another guy would steal your time away from me, but you'd be too nice to say anything about it."

"I would not," he argues weakly

"You're getting pretty defensive. I beg to differ."

"Whatever," he replies, scratching along your arm. "I'd sweep you off your feet, and then we'd get married. The whole nation would love us."

"Greg could do that as well," you tease, loving how he's getting jealous.

"Well, good thing we're already married and have a kid together. Unless you're planning on leaving me for him."

"Thinking about it," you mumble as the show comes back on.

When the episode ends, it's around nine. You still have dishes to wash, so you get up and fill the sink with soapy water. Harry is beside you in seconds to help, and you suddenly remember what he mentioned earlier during dinner.

"So, what'd you want to talk about?" you ask, beginning to wash cups.

"Oh, um, this is just something I've been thinking about lately. And I wanted to bring it up because it concerns both of us—you, mostly."

He's nervously spewing words, so you shut the water off and grant him your full attention. "Talk to me," you encourage, bumping your hip with his.

Harry exhales somewhat shakily. "When you were on the counter and my hand was under your sweatshirt... my mind immediately went back to when you were pregnant." He avoids eye contact as he scrubs a plate. "How much I loved it. The whole progression."

You know where this conversation is going. You've thought about it before. Dreamed, even.

"It's been on my mind for a while, you know?" he continues. "She's almost three, and I think having another one would be nice. Again, it's completely up to you. Pregnancy isn't easy, so it's just an idea."

"But you've been thinking about it for a while?" you reiterate for clarity. Harry nods shyly, drying the clean plate with a towel. "I've been thinking about it, too," you add.

Harry's head whips toward you. "What?"

"I feel ready to do it a second time. To be pregnant again."

He sets the towel down. "Seriously? For real?"

"It's a perfect time. We've got the money and space. I'm all in if it's what you want. I think she would love to have a sibling."

Harry inhales heavily and darts his gaze between both of your eyes. He then breaks out into a beautiful smile, rubbing his hand along his mouth. "Okay," he says. "Yeah, I want another baby more than anything. We can start trying whenever you're ready."

You grin while washing your hands. The dishes can wait until tomorrow. "We can start tonight. We're home alone, and the outfit you're wearing is making me hot."

"Yeah?" he says, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. "Sweet. Wait, right now? We're doing this?"

"Yes, right now," you reply as you walk toward the bedroom. "C'mon, let's brush our teeth and get a head start."

Harry takes off his hat and catches up to you. When you glance back, he's nervously wringing his hands in front of him like a schoolboy, and it almost makes you laugh. After seven years together and experiencing the awkward stages of dating and then pushing out an entire child with him in the room, he still gets nervous about these things.

It reminds you of the time you told him you were pregnant.

——

You pushed the gift bag toward Harry, and he gave you a suspicious look paired with a smirk.

"Did I miss our anniversary or something?" he murmured as he opened the bag and pulled out something wrapped in tissue paper.

You shook your head and braced for his reaction. You'd been trying for a few months, and you finally got the answer that both of you wanted. The positive pregnancy test hidden behind your back felt like a ticking bomb.

Harry carefully unwrapped the present. His eyebrows furrowed as he unfolded an apron in front of him. His eyes ran over it, and then his jaw went slack. Written on the fabric was 'Daddy Duty,' and three pockets were sewn into the bottom to hold baby supplies while he cooked.

He stared at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. You just nodded your head and presented the stick from behind your back. He slowly stood, setting the apron on the coffee table, and walked over to you with his hands reaching out. He took the stick with a shaky hand, his other covering his mouth.

Staring up at the ceiling, Harry choked out something between a relieved breath and a sob. His arms instantly wrapped around your shoulders, bringing you into his warm embrace. He was trying hard to keep it together, but you heard his shaky inhales and sniffles. You were crying, too. You'd both wanted this for so long.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered against your neck. "I can't believe this. How far along are you?"

"I'll know at my first appointment next Thursday. I'll text you all the information."

"No, screw that. I'll take off work. I have to be there."

"Okay, we'll go together," you told him, secretly hoping he would say that. "Are you happy? I was so nervous. I didn't know how to tell you."

"Of course, I'm happy." He breathed exasperatedly, like he couldn't believe what you had just revealed. We're going to be parents. We're going to have a baby."

The both of you laughed against each other in disbelief. It was surreal, and it was all happening at the perfect time.

——

The thought of giving him another baby to cradle in his arms and to get up with at crazy hours in the morning leaves you yearning for it more than ever.

After brushing your teeth, you take your clothes off and don't waste any time taking Harry's off. You push him to make him lay back on the silk sheets before straddling his thighs, his tattoo peeking out from underneath his boxers. You grind against his cock, noticing he's hard already. Your hands spread on his firm chest as you continue rolling your hips.

Your underwear dampens, and Harry's hands grip your waist. He lifts his hips to relieve some pressure, his neck straining as he whimpers after every movement of yours.

You stop straddling him and slide his boxers off, his cock resting against his abdomen. You then take your underwear off and hike your legs over his thighs to hover over them again. This is the first time he's gone without a condom since you were pregnant, so you're nervous about the raw feeling.

"You with me, baby?" Harry asks breathily. "We're doing this?"

"I'm just gonna go slow so it doesn't burn," you say, lining yourself up.

He nods encouragingly. "We'll take our time. Let's make this good."

You exhale and slowly sink yourself into his cock. The stretch burns, but it still feels heavenly without a barrier. Harry groans as your hands grip his tense shoulders. His fingers flex on your hips when you take him all the way and begin rocking back and forth. He moans in response, his hips meeting the motion of yours.

You've missed this. You can feel every inch of his skin, and the contact is a pleasure like no other.

Harry decides to quickly flip you over so he can be on top. His forearms prop himself up as he starts thrusting at a faster pace. So much for going slow. His face is buried in your neck, and he places nipping kisses on it every so often, leaving love bites. You wrap your trembling legs around his body as he hits the deeper spots that have you arching your back against the mattress.

"Feel good?" he asks, his cheek resting against yours.

"So, so good. Don't stop."

The pit of your stomach forms a tight knot as he continues. He lowers one hand and stimulates your clit with his thumb as he roughly snaps his hips against yours, letting out salacious groans and whimpers into your ear. His body is warm like a personal furnace — it's burning against yours, and the closeness of your two bodies always leads to eruption.

"I'm almost there," you say, heat striking down your back. "Keep going… please don't stop."

"I'm close—God, I'm close. I'm with you, honey. Just tell me when you're ready."

You clench around him, and he pulls out and quickly gets behind you, pushing you to lay on your side. He thrusts back in, his chest pressed right against your back. One hand moves to grope your breast, and his other arm places itself above your head on the pillow to move some strands of hair off your forehead. The two sensations have you leaning your neck back against his shoulder and moaning loudly.

Your orgasm hits before you can warn him, and you cry out as his hips slow, riding it out before stilling and shuddering out his release. Broken groans are muffled into your neck as he asks, "Gonna make me a dad again?" You nod fervently at his question. "Yeah?"

You keep nodding until he's physically spent. He keeps his cock inside you, his body relaxing against yours. The both of you are breathing heavily, and you feel his cock soften, the feeling bringing you a strange sense of comfort.

"Think that did it?" he asks.

"I hope so," you answer. Harry repositions himself, his cock nudging inside of you. "God, you feel so perfect all the time."

Harry begins stroking his hand across your stomach, every so often giving you a gentle thrust that has you softly clenching around him. You're sensitive, but it's a natural response. When his hand starts rubbing circles around your stomach to ease the remaining pressure there, you smile giddily and think about getting to experience pregnancy all over again.

Harry eventually pulls out and kneels before you, hooking your knees over his shoulders. This is precisely what he did the last time you were trying for a baby years ago. Apparently, the position is supposed to help get one to stick, for lack of better words.

Harry begins whistling nonchalantly, and you start laughing hard because he's acting like he does this every day. He tries to give you a look as if to say what he's doing is incredibly serious business, but he eventually sputters a laugh. Now, both of you are giggling like maniacs.

After about five minutes in the position, Harry sets your legs down to put his boxers back on and then leaves. He comes back and provides you with aftercare—a warm, damp cloth, a clean pair of underwear, and one of the brownies you baked earlier today.

You eat your dessert while the ocean waves crash outside the open window. You get comfortable on his lap, and he circles his arms around your waist.

Tomorrow will mark the start of a new week. Your daughter will come home, and you all will make new memories together.

After tonight, it will hopefully be the start of another chapter.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #dadrry #dad!harry #dilfrry #harry styles #adore-laur

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1d1195 · 6 months

Text

Love and Dryer Sheets II

Read the rest here: Love and Dryer Sheets

I'm not sure if you saw but there's going to be some pretty big reveals in this section I think. I feel like you might not like the ending of this part but I hope I'll start making it up to you in the next parts.

~6.3k words

Warnings: angst, fluff, Harry is an ACTUAL a-hole, toxic relationships mentioned, described. Relationships are hard, love is complicated. Cheating. Please read with caution.

Sitting across from her on the washer reading his book while she read hers. That was the only other time that he felt pure, silent, peace. It needed an explanation, but he couldn’t give it one. He was so infatuated with her so instantly it was like the part of his brain that controlled his heart saw her and said: Ah, yes. You found her. Finally.

Harry was undeniably (and unapologetically) obsessed. He spent so much time walking down to the laundry room just to see if she was there that his calf muscles were getting a serious work out from the number of stairs he had been descending and climbing, over the last month since he met her. It was pathetic. He would head to the basement after checking the mail in the alcove by the main office. When he “needed fresh air” he ran down to the steps and poked his head in after dashing outside for all of thirty seconds, like a loon. It was good they didn’t have a doorman, he would have saw right through Harry.

If he saw her doing laundry, he ran back to his apartment and put together a mishmash of random clothes and towels so he could hurry back and get a sense of calm for a half hour. Even if it was just five items. And sometimes he washed clean towels. But the laundry room was free—one of the biggest perks of this building.

The biggest perk of all was her of course.

The anger Harry felt nearly all hours of the day swelled and swelled when he was home. It made him want to bash his head through the wall and he couldn’t figure out why he didn’t just fix his problem. Therapy might have helped. Maybe even one of those Eat, Pray, Love retreats to center himself could have provided some guidance. Or maybe he should have just told Gemma what the problem was, and his big sister would come to his rescue as she usually did. Maybe she would be able to tell him exactly what to do and everything could have been fine.

But admitting he had a problem seemed like the opposite of fixing it.

So, he only felt at ease during two time periods these days.

One of the times was while working. Which was a feat itself because there was only so much relief that he could find staring at his computer screen for eight hours on end. The numbers were boring, and he could manipulate them or analyze them in his sleep as needed. It was brainless to him and made it easy to turn off the anger for a bit of time and just focus on patterns. There was a sense of tranquility among the numbers. They had a clear answer when put together; his conscience didn’t yell at him when he was at work. It was also the only time he didn’t think about the sunshiny princess that liked laundry.

But Harry didn’t believe in soulmates. He couldn’t believe in soulmates.

“Your wash is done,” she murmured without looking up from her page. Harry was already staring at her, so he wasn’t terribly surprised when she spoke. Her gaze didn’t shift from the words on her page when she spoke. Even with Harry ogling her. How long had he been staring at her? Did she even notice? Did she care? It made him a little nervous that he was so infatuated with her; he wanted to know if it was one-sided. It probably was. Simply because Harry was so grumpy and there wasn’t a whole lot of talking when they spent their hour together doing laundry. She exuded this bubbliness. It was in her aura or whatever wave of energy she gave off to the rest of the world. She was sweet and kind. Harry was grumpy and obsessed. She was probably just too polite to tell him to go away. Harry wished she was staring at him the way he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

You need to get a grip. His conscience was resigned but still trying. It was all the little voice could do at the moment. Harry slid from the washer and quickly dumped his stuff into the basket to transfer it over to the dryer. She giggled at her book and Harry thought his heart might melt out of his ribcage at the sound.

He mindlessly put the stuff in the dryer. With her advice, he went out and bought the sweet-smelling dryer sheets that made his clothes less stiff and reminded him of her. Jesus Christ, you’re an idiot. It sounded like his conscience simply up and left the office. Slamming the metaphorical door on Harry’s absolute hopelessness.

Harry returned to the washer he was sitting on and went back to his book. If someone came down and the other washers were filled, he would have to give it up and find a different spot to perch while he waited for the dryer and he hated when that happened. Watching her read was one of his new favorite past times. “How was work?” He asked her without looking up from his book.

“It was fine,” she shrugged. “We got some really good news for one of our patients which is great. But sometimes they...almost struggle more with good news than bad news. It’s common enough. They’ve had so much bad happen, it’s hard to believe good can happen. Does that make sense?”

Harry looked up finally and admired her beauty silently. It was hard to believe. “Perfect sense,” he murmured.

“How about you? How’s work been this week?” She asked, putting her book in her lap and giving Harry her full, undivided attention.

It seemed nearly unnatural to be so smitten with someone he had met just over a month ago. Maybe she did like him? Liked him enough to ask about work and not tell him to take a hike. Maybe laundry was her time for peace and Harry was ruining that. “Work is fine. S’a little boring. Jus’ numbers and reports.”

“Do you like it?” She asked, tilting her head at him.

He nodded. “Yeah, I do. S’exactly what I wanted t’do.”

“Then it’s not boring,” she smiled so sweetly, Harry thought he would get a cavity.

They sat there smiling at each other for a few blissful moments. But then someone entered the room with their bag of laundry. “S’my cue,” he grumbled in annoyance.

She smiled. “I’ll keep an eye on your dryer,” she said. “Guard it with my life,” she promised opening her book again.

She is really nice. His conscience admitted. Harry smirked to himself, his internal monologue finally agreeing with him. But you’re still an absolute idiot.

She was putting away her laundry in the correct drawers when there was a knock on her door. She nearly sprinted to the door dropping her T-shirts on the floor at the sound of the person on the other side. She was giggling as she made her way to the main room of her apartment and flew across the space to yank the door out of the way. The door was barely open, and she was tackling Niall in the biggest hug she could manage.

“Hey princess,” he chuckled wrapping his arms around her tightly. “How are you?”

She pulled back. “Better now that you’re here.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was only gone two weeks.”

“It was a year,” she nodded firmly.

“I helped you move in, darling,” he rolled his eyes and entered the apartment. He inspected her décor, looked at the arrangement of her furniture, and admired the big window looking out over the little main street that led to town. “S’beautiful here,” he told her with a smile.

She nodded, answering with her own grin. “It is.”

“Are you happy?” He asked.

She nodded again. “Yes, very.”

His smile didn’t falter as he nodded appreciatively at her response. He wanted the very best for her. “I saw Dickhead,” he told her.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not his name, Niall.”

“It may as well be,” he grumbled sitting on the sofa. She flopped down beside him resting her head on his shoulder. “I hate him,” he reminded her.

“I’m not really a big fan either,” she giggled.

“I would kill him for you.”

“I know you would,” she patted his leg. “But that’s not necessary. I’m away from him, I’ve got this cute place, I’m out of my parents’ crazy house,” she smirked and rolled her eyes. “And... I think I... may have met someone.”

“Why didn’t you lead with that, darling?” He said, turning toward her so he could look at the adoration that fell over her face. “Where did y’meet him? What’s he like? Does he like you?”

Niall had been her best friend since high school when he moved to town and didn’t know anybody. He looked overwhelmed trying to find his classes and she just looped her arm around his elbow and started walking him through the hall on an impromptu tour as if she always knew him. When questioned about being late, she explained that she had been asked to guide Niall around since he was new. Since she had a beautiful smile and that kind personality, it was impossible to think she was lying. But even if she had been caught in a lie, she wouldn’t have minded because it was for Niall.

Niall was the funniest, kindest, best friend anyone could ask for. Her parents and his parents asked all the time why they didn’t just get married. They were so close. Sometimes they didn’t even talk to each other for hours on end. It was effortless to be friends. Sitting quietly together made them happy. “I’ll marry you if you can’t find anyone by the time we’re thirty-five,” Niall winked.

She rolled her eyes at the time, but after her most recent breakup, it felt like maybe she would be marrying Niall once they turned thirty-five. “I don’t want to marry you,” she said with a shrug. “I feel like once you’ve seen someone eat a whole large pizza on their own the magic is just gone.”

“Darling, that is exactly the reason you should marry someone,” he laughed. But it was okay, because he didn’t want to marry her either. She was his best friend.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

But really, they didn’t date because they just knew it wasn’t what they needed. They needed to be friends. They wanted to be friends. Best of friends. She was the first one to swoop in and tell Niall everything would be okay when he was upset or nervous about something new. Niall knew how to make her feel better when her cramps were bugging her or when she had a really long day.

Or when her parents’ fighting finally got to her.

She loved her parents, really, she did. But most of the time it didn’t seem like they loved each other. The last thing she wanted was to end up like them with anyone she dated long term—but especially not with Niall. He always listened to her vent about how their arguing bothered her. How it worried her. It made her nervous that her future relationships were doomed before they started; because what kind of example had they set for her?

Niall could assuage her worries with ease. It had been many years of him listening and offering advice. There was so much about relationships they didn’t know in their high school and college years. Maybe there was something about her parents’ relationship that she would never know.

“They got you out of the deal, princess,” he told her after a particularly bad night at home. “Think that would keep me around on it’s own.”

She wasn’t sure that was honestly the best idea or solution on the subject. But it did make her feel better at the time. Which was why she loved Niall so very much and never wanted to do anything to jeopardize their friendship.

But despite no one finding Niall before she did on his first day of school, Niall needed no help at all when it came to dating. He had plenty of girlfriends over the years. Some were intimidated by their friendship, but most were fine with it—especially after they met her.

“Niall, I think I want to marry her. Are you sure you don’t want to date her?” One of his girlfriends in college asked him and of course he relayed the message.

So, being friends was easier, better, for them.

She went on dates but didn’t have a lot of long-term boyfriends. Dickface as Niall said, was her most recent relationship. They dated for nearly three years. He was controlling, did not like Niall very much, and in Niall’s opinion he was always one inconvenience, one irritation away from harming his best friend either emotionally (or, terrifyingly enough, physically) and Niall wouldn’t stand for that one second longer than he had to.

It got really bad around the two-and-a-half-year mark. She had called Niall crying. Niall wasn’t used to that. She was unbelievably strong and even with the saddest job in the world, he thought there was nothing that her sunny disposition couldn’t fight through.

Niall didn’t even hear what the problem was. When he thought about it now, he didn’t even remember what the issue was that she told him over the phone. Niall was already heading to their place, packing her overnight bag, and getting her out of there. She had to move back home for a bit making her crazier than ever as she listened to her parents fight and argue every night.

She hadn’t talked about another guy since their breakup.

Niall never really understood how she ended up with her ex anyway. He was nothing like her. He wasn’t sunny enough for her. His mood soured so rapidly it was like being with a ticking time bomb. As much as Niall told her he didn’t think it would work out, he knew it would have to be her to figure it out. Until she called him (or if something really bad actually happened), he would have to let her be her own person and support her as much as possible.

Until they broke up, Niall never hated him. If his best friend saw something good in him, then there was something good. Some people just don’t work out. Some people don’t click—or stop clicking, and it takes a while to see it.

“I met him doing laundry,” she told him with a laugh. “How silly is that?”

Niall smirked. “Yeah? What’s his name?”

“Harry,” she took a deep breath and looked at her hands. “He sits and does laundry with me. It’s quiet and we read our books. We chat too, but really, it’s just... comfortable.”

Her whole life was loud. Hospitals were loud. Her parents were loud. Niall, when he was excited, was louder than anyone she knew. Laundry was quiet. Laundry was a chore that always eased her mind a bit—especially when everything in her brain was tired and longing for serenity. When Harry came in grumbling and angry, she worried he would ruin the one thing that made her happy and calm.

Maybe that was why she offered him to use her laundry detergent. Maybe it was her first selfish act in so many years of listening to constant arguing and being in a relationship that made her feel anything but peace. So, when Harry accepted her help, when he kept sitting with her and enjoying the peacefulness of the chore, it felt like... fate.

“That’s adorable,” Niall smiled. “Have you asked him out?”

“Absolutely not, Niall. That’s so creepy. I’ve seen his underwear.”

“He’s probably seen yours,” Niall reminded her. “Already at third base, y’know?”

She punched him in the stomach without force behind it. “Shut up.”

“Well, what else do you know about him?”

“Honestly, not much. But he’s nice...a little...grumpy.”

Niall narrowed his eyes at her immediately. “Listen, darling. I’m not about to watch you be in the same relationship you just left. I don’t want to be the friend that tells you who to date or whatever but—”

“Niall, this is completely different.”

He didn’t buy it. And maybe he wouldn’t force her to break up with her last boyfriend, but he would absolutely stop her before something bad happened. “Why’s he grumpy?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know...but he’s not grumpy toward me. Mom is always on the defensive. Dad is always playing the victim. Dickhead was always annoyed with whatever I did...” she trailed off. She caught Niall’s smirk as she used his nickname appropriately. “Harry is... I don’t know. I don’t seem to annoy him... I think I might... I don’t know. I get the sense that he doesn’t feel very at peace sometimes. But... when we read and wait for laundry... I don’t know... he seems... happy.”

“Well, that is quite the feat now isn’t it,” Niall smirked. But he knew it was true. She was this bright spot of sunshine. She could make the saddest situations happier. She had this way of mediating situations she had no business being a part of into something better. When they were at stores and the customer in front of her in line gave the cashier a hard time, she was the first person to defend the employee and work out a compromise or explain it in a different way. Of course, whoever crossed her path had no choice but to agree with her. See it from her perspective.

Being friends with the kindest soul he knew was amazing.

But it meant Niall had to protect her peace because not very many people did it for her in the past.

“I am a delight,” she reminded him with another punch.

She can hold her own. Niall thought with a smirk to himself. “Truly.”

She thought about Harry’s soft brown locks and his green eyes that haunted her dreams. It was... the universe talking to her. It had to be. Even if she didn’t believe in that stuff. Even if she didn’t want to believe in it. Because Harry was simply too good to be true. He had already spent hours in that dark and damp basement with her doing a house chore of all things.

But there was the other most amazing coincidence that rattled her to her core. “Niall... he...” she sighed dreamily. “He brought up The Wizard of Oz without me... saying anything.”

That certainly lit a lightbulb in Niall’s brain. He looked over toward the bookshelf beside her TV display. One whole shelf had various editions of the book. A collection she had thrifted and worked hard on since she got her very first job in high school. Gifts from Niall and other friends and family helped make her collection bigger. The books weren’t necessarily worth money or anything, but they were a part of what she loved. Part of what made her...her. That was priceless.

“Really,” he sounded just a little skeptical. She couldn’t blame him—she was skeptical. She never thought in a million years she would have a soulmate. It didn’t seem possible given the display of “love” she had at home. “That’s...that’s kind of crazy.”

She nodded in agreement. “I was...speechless.”

“Another feat.” She rolled her eyes and Niall received another punch to his stomach. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “Well... let’s go run your errands so you can go do laundry like an old married couple with your new guy.”

Harry was once more ascending the steps from the basement disappointed to see she wasn’t there. It had been nearly five days since they’d done laundry together. The anger he felt was causing the familiar shake to reappear in his hands which he thought might permanently be balled into fists. If he didn’t see Sunshine soon, he might have to go right to her door to find her.

However, he was looking at his phone to answer a text when he heard her laughter. It was pathetic that he could recognize it by sound already. Like a child, he hid behind the mail alcove peeking around the corner to see what made her laugh so hard.

The anger was there to stay.

A man had his arm around her shoulders, and she was still snickering at whatever he said. The smile on his face matched how Harry felt whenever he was around her.

Harry wanted to kick himself. Of course, she would find a new guy quickly. She was adorable, intelligent, sweet, and sunshiny. Any guy would be stupid not to fall for her. Obviously, it happened to Harry so very quickly.

Even when it shouldn’t have. His conscience reminded him futilely.

Not the time, he grumbled back internally to the little voice. But Harry believed no one could control who they fell for. There was a click, a sigh of relief, a sense of recognition that passed over two people and they just knew. It looked like whoever had his arm around her knew that she was a sense of relief. He found her.

Harry didn’t believe in soulmates.

Not anymore.

So, the anger would stay.

Harry flopped onto the couch and ran his hands over his face as he tried to compartmentalize all the emotions he felt. Jealousy, anger, and frustration was not a good look. He should have just told Gemma. Gemma always knew what to do. But falling for someone...he wasn’t sure Gemma could help. Wasn’t sure that Gemma would want to help.

“I thought you were going out?”

If Harry was in a better headspace, he might not have noticed the attitude. Or maybe there wasn’t attitude and he made it up from just being so angry. “No, love. Change of plans,” he murmured.

She stood in the doorway. “So, you got all mad and worked up, stormed out, just to come back?”

Harry definitely wasn’t imaging her attitude—it was plain in her voice, in her posture. It was like she was looking to argue and fight. “M’sorry,” he said sincerely. “Does that interrupt y’plans or something?” He asked her, turning toward her figure in the entryway of the kitchen. It felt like he already lost because of the defensive tone in his voice in the question he asked.

Ava was supposed to be his soulmate. Harry always thought she was. When they met his heart did the fluttering thing that it was supposed to do when he met someone he liked. The butterflies in his stomach took flight. She took his breath away. She was funny and beautiful. Harry knew he liked kindness, but if he knew that Ava’s kindness was limited back when he met her, he might not have ever dated her.

Harry loved Ava. He did.

But sometimes he didn’t love her the way he used to love her.

Maybe that should have been a clue to him to just end it. They had been together for almost five years. Things were comfortable even if they were tense. Harry liked living here. Especially now.

No. His conscience said simply. Not okay.

Truthfully? Harry should have ended it three years ago. Harry was constantly apologizing on behalf of Ava when they were at parties or dinner. When they hung out with friends, they could sense their tenseness. If he were honest with himself, their relationship had an expiration date, and they were soured now. He hid the bad parts of his relationship from everyone he knew. From his mum, his sister, his friends...

Even himself.

Maybe it took meeting the girl obsessed with laundry who reminded him of pure sunshine, to get his mind thinking about all of it again. That would make some sense. Harry should have asked his mum what to do. But Harry was on his own. He was a fully grown adult and he had to figure out what to do and make his own mistakes. His mum and sister couldn’t fix this for him. Especially because he needed to admit that there was something to fix, first.

But the calmness he felt every time he walked into the laundry room was hard to ignore.

That’s fair. His conscience admitted.

Rubbing his hands over his face again he looked at Ava. “What d’you want t’do then?”

She sighed so loudly. It was like knives digging into his heart. “Forget it. I’ll change my plans.”

“What the fuck, Ava? Like are y’having someone over and y’want me gone? Jesus...”

“Shut up, Harry,” she rolled her eyes. “I just don’t want people seeing us argue.”

“We don’t have t’argue, y’know.”

“I know that. I don’t think you know that.”

This was how it went. All the time. Arguing about nothing until Harry got so worked up and angry, he stormed back to the laundry room. But now he wasn’t going to do that. Not when he knew that the sweet girl that he met there was probably in a healthy, normal, beautiful relationship with the man that had his arms around her shoulders.

So, he would argue with Ava.

Because what else was he supposed to do?

The entire time she ran her errands with Niall, she thought about Harry. It wasn’t that Niall wasn’t good company. It was just that everything reminded her of Harry. The color green, the title of a book he had read in her presence that she saw while they walked through target, a jersey of the soccer team he liked that she had seen him throw in the dryer at least three times already...

The overwhelming...peace she felt just by thinking about him was practically unnatural. Her stomach twisted with longing to be near him. Not that she didn’t love hanging out with Niall—of course she loved to hang out with her best friend. But there was something about Harry that drew her to him. It was like he was this beacon of comfort.

Niall held her bags while they headed back into her apartment building. Part of her wanted to take the elevator to the fifth floor and knock on every door until she found him and could introduce Niall to him. But that would be insane.

“Do you know any of your other neighbors?” Niall asked as they waited for the elevator.

“Oh crap, yeah! Actually, I told my elderly neighbor I would grab her mail,” she said taking a sharp right turn into the mail room. The elevator pinged a moment later with its arrival. Niall chuckled following her. She stood in front of the silver boxes embedded in the wall and searched for her neighbor’s box along with her own. With the two mail keys on her key ring, she quickly opened the box and pulled out her neighbor’s mail first, and then her own. She sifted through her letters checking for anything of importance for just a moment. Niall waited patiently, not that it would take her long.

“Are you going to stand in front of the boxes all day?”

She turned around and looked at the woman who spoke. She was stunning. She should have been a model. It rendered her completely speechless. Or maybe it was the cranky attitude that made her voice catch in her throat. But she was staring at her as if she were stupid for taking up space. “Oh, sorry,” she murmured quickly and stepped around her.

The woman released an irritated scoff. It was sad that she felt bad about being in the way. Maybe it was the annoyance the woman had in her voice. It made her feel bad that she did something wrong. It was her fault that she was in the way. Maybe that was ridiculous to spiral so quickly—especially when the woman could have easily said excuse me. But she tended to blow things out of proportion when she felt like she did something wrong.

Niall eyed the woman suspiciously from the entryway to the alcove and glared at her for the attitude she showed his best friend. He knew she was probably already spiraling in her delightfully sunny brain and feeling bad even though the woman was rude. She quickly pushed Niall toward the elevator before he said something that would make her untoward attitude for her worsen. Once in the elevator Niall looked at his best friend.

“Who pissed in her Cheerios?” He grumbled.

“That was a lot for the mailroom,” she agreed even though she still felt bad.

Niall smirked. “Guess not all your neighbors are friendly. Wicked witch,” he muttered.

She ignored the comment–even though she found it a little funny. “Oh, you’ll love Mrs. Williams. She thinks everyone she meets is the cutest, sweetest thing. And she’s always baking something.”

Exiting the elevator and returning to her apartment, Niall chuckled to himself. “I don’t know if Mrs. Williams could say that about her.”

She was never one to speak ill of someone else—especially someone she didn’t know. But the little nit-picking part of her brain that she was unable to ignore thought Niall might be right. That was extremely rude for no reason. But she shouldn’t judge. Maybe she was having a bad day. The very same thing happened with Harry and look how nice he turned out to be.

“Can I meet Harry?” Niall asked with a wiggle of his eyebrows. It was like he heard her thoughts about the very man. Maybe he did. It felt like her brain just kept shouting his name repeatedly. Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry...

This was unhealthy and ridiculous. Soulmates weren’t real. Harry was just a nice person who liked to read while they did laundry together. Maybe he would have done it whether she was there or not. It was a necessity and after his laundry was almost moved from the washer he very well could have changed his tune and just been there for the safety of his belongings.

It had nothing to do with her.

...Right?

“Um...I guess...we could go see if he’s doing laundry,” she suggested. “But you can’t be weird.”

“Darling,” he put a hand over his heart as if she really insulted him. “I can’t believe you would say that about me. M’not weird.”

She looked at him blankly while he smiled so excitedly at her, it was like he was asking for candy at the grocery store before dinner and she was telling him no. “Don’t be ridiculous around him either.”

He rolled his eyes. “My best behavior,” he promised.

Laundry was calming. He should have known. It seemed like she knew everything there was to know—particularly about this silly little chore. Since he saw her with another guy, and of course another spat with Ava that turned into a bigger deal than it should have (as it always did), he needed to do something to calm himself. He wanted out of the apartment that hosted hostility in every particle of the air. It was a risky move to go to the very room that they had met. It reminded him that she was out with another man, and it was none of Harry’s business.

It also doesn’t matter. Harry wished his conscience had an off switch. He knew the voice of reason was really just the rational part of his brain trying to make sense of how fucked up his brain was acting. Laundry was her thing. He shouldn’t have tried to make it his own just because he liked her. When you shouldn’t.

Harry was going to stick his head in the washer and run the spin cycle just to get his conscience to shut up.

He heard her laughter and of course it made his crummy mood worsen. He was going to have to pretend that he wasn’t upset about something he had no right to be upset about. It was then he realized she wasn’t alone.

There was no way he could pretend he wasn’t mad when he heard her laughter paired with a guy’s laughter.

You’re hopeless. His conscience told him. Harry kept his eyes on his book. Reading The Wizard of Oz seemed like the worst idea in the world at that moment, but he couldn’t help it. He was drawn to her. Everything about her. Getting to know her more, even through an early 20th-century children’s novel, was the only thing that made sense when everything in his life seemed so... sad.

“Hey Harry,” her voice sounded like how the sun looked after it rained. Right before a rainbow appeared and the raindrops were dripping off trees. He couldn’t not look up.

“Hey,” he murmured quietly with a forced smirk.

Her smile was so kind it was hard for him to be annoyed that she was so happily taken. Especially when he wasn’t happy. Furthermore, since she was happy...without him. “This is my best friend, Niall. He wanted to meet you,” she said gesturing to the man he had previously seen holding her around the shoulders.

Best friend. Do you see how fucking stupid you are? Harry wasn’t sure if that was his conscience or just the general voice in his head but the way the anger melted off him wasn’t normal. He was stupid. Getting all worked up over something he wasn’t even sure about—about something that wasn’t even rightfully his to be annoyed.

“Hey, Harry. Heard a lot about you. She’s got you in her Wizardly book club I see,” he smiled holding his hand out for Harry to shake. It seemed utterly insane that Harry didn’t like Niall just because he held her the way he wanted to hold her. Even though it was now obvious it was a friendly thing.

“Ah...yeah...jus’ started it though,” he smiled feeling the sourness he felt toward her best friend dissipate by the second. “Y’must have read it, yeah?” He asked Niall.

“Oh, read it, watched it, had her read it to me, watched a documentary, went to the museum about it.”

“Please, make me sound crazier.”

“You do it all on your own, darling,” Niall winked at her.

Harry smiled at their banter. It seemed so...effortless. Maybe it would have been easier for Harry if they were a couple. Harry could see how much they adored each other just from their laughter and inside jokes that he had only witnessed through the looks they gave each other. It was nice. Harry was glad she had someone like Niall to adore her unconditionally.

But it also made him want to do it just as much.

“How long have y’known each other?” Harry asked, putting his book on the washer beside him. She dumped her stuff into the washer across from him, like she always did while Niall did the math in his head.

“Since we were fifteen,” he smirked. “So... twelve years.”

“Mmm... Niall has been the same immature nuisance since he was fifteen,” she smiled.

“Is that so, princess? I recall you getting all flustered at the duty-free store when we went to Canada last summer.” She rolled her eyes and Harry was simply overwhelmed by how much he liked her. “Sorry to meet you and leave Harry, but the missus is calling me about dinner,” he said.

Ah. So, they really aren’t meant to be. That boded well for Harry.

“Tell her that my hourly fee goes up when you insult me in front of new friends,” she said without turning around to watch Niall head for the door. He rolled his eyes at Harry and sighed.

“Good luck with her. It’s nice knowing not all of her neighbors are wicked,” he said knowingly. Harry smirked in response wondering who that was directed to. He would have to ask when he left. Niall pressed a hand on her lower back and pecked her cheek. “See you soon, darling.”

“Thanks for hanging out, Ni,” she grinned so cutely that it warmed Harry all over. Head to toe. She closed the lid of her washer and took her usual seat as Niall headed back to the main lobby. “Where are you?” She asked.

“Huh?”

“What page?”

“Uh...” he opened the book to the jacket cover holding his spot. “Seventeen.”

“So she’s in Munchkinland, right?” She smiled.

Harry smiled. “Feel like y’already know that, Sunshine.”

He thought she was beautiful without thinking about it much in all the time he spent with her. But somehow, the way her cheeks turned the most beautiful shade of pink...she was even more beautiful than he could ever imagine. “Well... yeah, I know but...” she looked shy. Maybe even felt a little awkward. Harry hated that. He wanted her to feel everything good. He wanted to read the book with her just to understand her even more.

“It’s sweet, don’t feel bad. M’liking it so far. Don’t know how I haven’t read it before.”

She had a book on her lap but she held her fingers around it so it was curled shut. “Read it to me,” she said.

“M’sorry?”

“Read it out loud,” she shrugged. “I already know it, so...it’s not like I missed anything,” she giggled.

Somehow, reading her favorite novel in the world probably meant way more than it should have. Definitely wasn’t something Harry should do. In fact, he should have told her about Ava right then.

“...But Dorothy, knowing her to be a witch, had expected her to disappear in just that way, and was not surprised in the least.”

Harry felt like his conscience had put up a sign on it’s office door. Out to lunch. It was funny how his mind could tell him off even when he was in control of it.

But the smile on her face made her think that he hadn't ever been in control at all. Harry agreed wholeheartedly with Dorothy. He wasn’t surprised in the very least.

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mixelation · 6 months

Text

i took a cursed evening nap so now im up at early af o'clock. have some reborn au. minato pov, him being a dad and also a wife guy

takes place while kushina is in iwa

****

Minato arrived home close to midnight. All the lights were on.

Maybe Naruto does need a babysitter, Minato thought, switching off the entrance hall light. Eight was old enough for a ninja in training to walk home alone and hang out for a few hours, but it was becoming obvious Naruto still wasn’t old enough to get himself to bed properly.

Naruto would throw a fit if Minato walked back on his assessment that Naruto was mature enough to take care of himself. He’d been so proud of himself. Minato wished Kushina were here to discuss the idea.

Naruto was, predictably, passed out on the couch, the TV still on at full volume. Minato switched it off, surveying the mess Naruto had left on the coffee table. Two comic books, half-read and left open. His textbook shoved aside with his homework, half done, pencils and his eraser strewn across the table. An empty instant ramen cup, because Minato had been having a lot of late nights and they’d gone through all the meals he’d prepped and frozen with Kushina before her departure.

Minato closed and stacked the comic books, lined them up neatly with Naruto’s textbook and set his half-finished homework on top. He tossed a blanket over his son, who shifted and pressed his face further into the couch cushion. Minato watched him for a moment, empty ramen cup in hand.

He felt guilty. Between a crisis with a patrol group disappearing near the Water Country border (now resolved), some drama with the Daimyo’s first son, Danzo trying to creep into ANBU control again, and the Iwa mission, he hadn’t seen Naruto awake in days. He didn’t want to get Naruto another babysitter. He wanted to come home and make dinner and check over his son’s homework and put him to bed himself.

Minato would never, ever pull Kushina from a mission she wanted to do, but he always struggled with her away. Together they were such a good team for Naruto, but Minato could barely keep up when he was by himself.

Minato moved to the kitchen, switching off the living room light as he went. When he tossed the instant ramen cup, there were two bell pepper cores in the bin, so at least Naruto had obeyed the rule that he had to have at least one fresh vegetable with his ramen. (He had, of course, picked the two orange peppers out of the multicolored pack.)

One of the peppers was still out on the counter, cut in half and abandoned with a paring knife on a cutting board. Minato sliced it into strips as he waited for water to boil for his own instant ramen.

He sat down at the kitchen table and heard shuffling from the living room. Naruto appeared in the kitchen doorway a few moments later, hair mussed and eyes bleary with sleep.

“Dad?”

“Hey, kid,” Minato greeted. “Wanna sit with me?”

Naruto crawled into the chair next to him, hand automatically going for the plate of bell pepper pieces Minato had set out.

Minato thought about chastizing him for not finishing his homework, or telling him he had to be more responsible or Minato would have to get a babysitter afterall. But Naruto was sleepy and Minato hadn’t had a real conversation with him in days, and this seemed unnecessarily cruel.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around this week,” Minato said instead. “Why don’t you come up to the office after class tomorrow?”

At first he wasn’t sure if Naruto was awake enough to hear him, as the kid just chewed, expressionless, for several seconds.

“Are you going to make me sit in that backroom and do homework?” Naruto asked eventually, shooting Minato a betrayed look.

“Well…” Minato said slowly. Ideally he’d have all his confidential meetings early, so that Naruto could sit with him while he did homework and Minato did boring nonclassified paperwork. But he couldn’t always guarantee that’s how his days would go.

In some ways, it was easier when Naruto was a baby. He never had to worry about baby Naruto reading over his shoulder or sneaking into the vents to spy on meetings. But now Naruto was big enough to have his own ideas and opinions, to have goals and hobbies and personality quirks, and Minato loved watching him grow and learn so much, but this also meant he sometimes had to banish Naruto to a backroom.

“Dad?” Naruto asked, squinting at him.

“Ah, well, maybe?” Minato admitted. “But we could get take-out for dinner, and… sneak away for a bit for training…?”

The Water Country border thing was resolved now, so he should almost definitely be able to swing that, barring some new crisis.

He smiled hopefully at Naruto, who still looked doubtful. Kushina was Naruto’s favorite parent for training, because Kushina was better at putting things in terms Naruto understood and was better at making things into games. But it wasn’t like Naruto didn’t like training with Minato, and Minato definitely had better and cooler kunai tricks. He just had to remember Naruto didn’t like hearing about the math behind them, nor did he really need to know the math no matter how interesting Minato thought it was.

And Naruto definitely liked Minato pretending they were very sneakily evading ANBU and secret guards when he’d teleport them to a training field.

“I want Ichiraku,” Naruto said finally.

“Deal,” Minato agreed. “Now go brush your teeth and put on real pajamas.”

Naruto scampered off, and Minato hand washed his chopsticks and the cutting board and knife. He could get them both up early and cook a real breakfast and make Naruto finish his homework, and ask him how school was…

Naruto knocked on his bedroom door some time later.

“Umm…” Naruto started, tugging at the hem to his shirt nervously. “I’m too big for nightmares, you know… but, um…”

Minato raised his eyebrows as Naruto continued to fidget. He’d left the kid alone for too many nights.

I have to do better, Minato promised himself. I could at least send Kakashi by to check on him…

“Do you want to sleep with me tonight?” Minato asked when Naruto continued to bluster.

“If you say so,” Naruto replied, ducking under his arm and making a beeline for Kushina’s side of the bed.

Minato took a quick shower, and by the time he was out, Naruto was passed out, sprawled across the bed like it was his own. Minato rolled his eyes affectionately as he gently moved Naruto’s arm so he had enough room. He leaned over his son, giving him a quick peck on the temple.

Minato laid awake for a bit, staring at the ceiling and listening to Naruto breathe. He missed Kushina. He missed giving her a kiss goodnight.

xXx

“Can’t you just give me a note?” Naruto whined. Minato had set out his homework for him at the dining room table and assigned Naruto to finish it while he cooked. “Sensei would never question it…”

“So you want special treatment?” Minato asked, spatula in hand.

“...no,” Naruto said after a beat. He scowled, but he picked up his pencil.

Minato didn’t have time to make the most inspired lunch for Naruto, but he was at least able to send him to school with a complete homework set and a homemade bento. He needed to find time to do another mass meal prep. Naruto was old enough to help him now; he could make it a fun father-son thing…

The day was more relaxed than the previous one, in terms of problems he was juggling. Danzo came in early and did not admit to overexerting control and interfering in the ANBU roster, but he told Minato his handling of the border thing was “adequate if not soft-handed.” Which was… nice, for Danzo? What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

Maybe trying to force him to retire had been a bad idea. For one, it hadn’t worked. For another, a bunch of older admin and some pockets of ANBU had threatened to walk and that had gone directly to Danzo’s head. So.

Ugh, Minato thought. Was he too soft?

A message from Kushina arrived late morning and cheered him up. It was an official missive from Iwa recognizing all three members of Team 4 had passed to the final stage of the exam. This was good news, but it also meant their mission would run another month. Iwa had very conspicuously not included the usual invitation for him as a Kage with participating genin to come in person and watch the tournament. Even though it was customary, that option had been off the table since they’d started negotiations.

They also included a note from Kushina. It covered the front and back of a page: a long, rambling report of how the exam had gone and what their accommodations were like. Halfway through she started speculating what Iwa ramen shops might be like, and Minato pulled the old academy textbook that matched the cypher from a bottom drawer on his desk. It was his own copy, and it had a note in the back from Kushina calling him a nerd and threatening to punch him in the nose. He smiled absentmindedly at it before he flipped through it for the right page. They used this code so often he didn’t need it, but it never hurt to be thorough.

Security high, Kushina had written. Nothing suspicious.

She hadn’t gone into her actual, secret mission, because there was no guarantee an Iwa codebreaker wouldn’t find her note. Instead it read like a normal assessment about their public goal of passing the exam. The fact that she raised no alarm was good, though. Kushina was still confident.

At the bottom she’d let her students write their own notes. Itachi had attempted to fit an actual report, written in tiny barely legible letters, followed by: Send regards to my brother.

Eloquent as always, Minato thought. He could see Itachi’s eye twitching as Kushina wrote the report without his input. Ah, well, this was good practice for him.

Deidara had written a cheeky note about finding out about Konoha hazard pay and insinuating this trip should qualify. Tori’s note was: You know the Junko vs Princess Hinamori fight? Like that.

Minato frowned. Princess Hinamori was the main antagonist from Jiraiya’s latest book, who agreed to let Junko honor-fight her for the love interest’s release if Junko met her at her winter castle. Princess Hinamori’s court witch had then used several manipulative jutsu so that Junko lost all her supplies on her journey, forcing her to fight exhausted and without weapons. Junko had won anyway, after she broke into her lover’s cell and had two chapters worth of inspirational sex with him. (And then, after she won, she’d had a threesome with her lover and the beautiful handmaiden who’d snuck her food to help her recover from her trip.)

So… had Iwa not given them the promised weapons? And why was a twelve year old reading Icha Icha? Kushina didn’t seem worried, but now Minato was.

By the time Naruto showed up, Minato had sent the report off for analysis and redacted a photocopy that he could give Naruto. Naruto, dragging his feet into the office with a look of great burden on his face, immediately perked up.

“Iwa doesn’t sound very fun,” Naruto concluded after reading the letter, puzzling over Kushina’s messy handwriting in places. “And she has to stay there a whole month?”

“I miss her too,” Minato told him. “And she probably can’t list all the coolest stuff she’s doing. You’ve learned about how you can’t say everything in written communications, right?”

Naruto’s nose crinkled in thought. “Because, um… someone else could steal your letter.”

“That’s right,” Minato agreed. “You know your mom. She’ll find the coolest parts of Iwa and come home and tell us all about it. And just think, she’ll have a whole month's worth of stories.”

Naruto nodded very seriously. “Sasuke says there’s no way his brother could lose to Iwa-nin.”

Minato laughed. “Itachi is… special,” he agreed.

“Itachi's a weirdo,” Naruto muttered. “He’s not going to come home and tell cool stories. Ugh, but Sasuke will talk about him like he did…”

Naruto whined, and Minato gently directed him at his homework. Minato had left organizing and reviewing D-ranks for the last task of his day, which was both boring and unimportant enough that it wouldn’t matter if Naruto spied on him. He cleared a portion of his own desk for Naruto to use, sitting across from him.

Naruto did not have any written homework today, but he was meant to read a chapter of his history book. Upon questioning, Minato realized that Naruto had skipped reading the previous chapter.

“It’s boring,” Naruto complained. “You’d think war could be cool, but the way the book talks about it is confusing.”

“First, war is not cool,” Minato disagreed.

“I want to read about the war with Iwa,” Naruto said, flipping ahead in the book. Minato reached over and covered his hand to stop him.

“It’s not going to make sense unless you read the chapters on the Second Shinobi War first,” he said. “Read that, and I’ll answer any questions you have when we go to Ichiraku.”

Naruto rolled his eyes, but he paged back to the chapter he’d skipped.

They ended up at Ichiraku late, and Minato would have to go in for a few hours on Saturday morning, but it looked like he might actually get a free weekend. Small miracles.

Naruto had been bored to tears by the causes and consequences of the Second Shinobi War, and he got grouchy when Minato quizzed him on it to make sure he understood. Naruto did have a lot of interested questions on the key battles section. Was Old Man Hiruzen really that strong? (Yes, he really was.) Were the Iwa Demolition Corps as scary as they sounded, and should he be worried about Mom? (Yes, they were scary, but Kushina was scarier, and she knew even more defensive fuinjutsu than Minato.) Why didn’t Konoha have a group of elite swordsmen like Kiri?

“That’s a good question,” Minato said. “Hey, I think your mom met one in Iwa.”

“Awesome,” Naruto declared.

Training right after a big meal was a bad idea, but they sat in the backyard with a plate of persimmon slices (a Naruto-approved orange fruit) and threw kunai at a target for a while. Naruto didn’t have a lot of natural talent with kunai, but at least for physical stuff, he’d never shied away from hard work. He reported gleefully that he’d finally broken into the top ten in his class for aim.

“Sasuke better watch his ass!” Naruto declared after his second bullseye of the night.

“Language,” Minato reminded him. “Also, watch your elbow when you throw.”

Naruto barely fought him about going to bed on time. Minato spent a little time alone, leafing through the Princess Hinamori saga in bed. He thought the conclusion of this book was some of Jiraiya’s best writing, but the start of the book was slow. Kushina had hated it and never gotten through the first few chapters. Naruto really took after her…

Minato sighed and set the book aside, leaned back against the bed’s headboard. Could he really go another month without Kushina? More than a month, even, because of travel time, and that was assuming everything on her side went smoothly. He hadn’t been away from her for that long since the war.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on his Hiraishin marker network. He couldn’t sense what was around them or distinguish them by anything but geographical location, but he didn’t have any other markers that deep into Earth Country. There was Kushina’s, nestled into her bijuu seal and hidden, further away from him than she’d ever been…

He was tempted to go check on her. It would be so easy to go see her, hold her, kiss her goodnight just for a moment. This was a stupid idea, of course, because spontaneously appearing in Iwa could ruin everything. Plus, Kushina had already communicated very strongly to him that she didn't want special treatment on missions. She’d vetoed both visits for goodnight and morning kisses years ago.

And if he did it once, he knew it’d get harder and harder to resist in the future.

He scooted down under his covers, rolled over and buried his face in Kushina’s pillow. It still smelled of the conditioner she used on her hair.

Maybe when she was out of Earth Country on her way home, he could go to her. He knew she must miss him too. Surely no one would mind if he showed up. He could offer to teleport her genin home early, and then he could have all the time alone with her that he wanted… like Junko’s lover letting her ravish him as part of her victory…

#reborn au #my writing

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peachsayshi · 10 months

Note

Hi love! 🧡 Could i ask for some Choso with the prompt "finally kissing, after a long time of pining" pretty please? I struggled between a few choices but I'm always a sucker for some mutual pining

₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs dni

⥽ notes: tension; yearning/needy choso; virgin!choso; established friendship; suggestive

the bed feels smaller with choso settling in, his well built frame easily taking up most of the space. you nervously snuggle underneath the cover, mindlessly smoothing out the sheet in front of you and keeping your eyes fixed on the ceiling to avoid gazing at your crush.

half-human, half curse; but wholeheartedly the most beautiful soul you've ever laid your eyes on.

it's the third night, your last one together, and with the mission coming to an end you'll be back home before you know it. however, it still doesn’t erase the tension that’s been simmering over the past forty eight hours, and when you accidentally brush your bare shoulder against choso’s, you feel it all spark once again.

"sorry," he states apologetically and making the heat rise up your neck, "I can sleep on the couch if it's better for you..."

"don't be ridiculous," you scold playfully despite your voice wavering, "I can barely fit on that thing, much less force you to sleep on it."

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

his gentle tone grabs your attention and forces you to turn to him. his face is partially illuminated by warm light, a noticeable blush highlighting his cheeks which is framed by his black hair that falls freely down his neck.

your eyes dip to his exposed shoulders and upper chest, lingering on the prominent muscles. "I'm fine, I promise," you reply a little breathless and squeeze your thighs together.

he’s suggesting the alternative now,because the first night was spent with the two of you in this very same position, only choso was asking a lot of questions…

questions regarding human intimacies; about their needs, their lust, their hunger...

you can't help but be empathetic about his curiosity. after all, his mind is governed by two completely polarizing forces.

the conversation was innocent at first, but he made a bold declaration that sent shivers all over your body.

"I feel an ache whenever I'm around you," he confessed, "I can't explain it,"

"It's natural," you attempted to explain, keeping a neutral tone while brushing aside the way your cheeks stung. "sometimes I feel it too..."

"why does it happen?"

you can only shrug your shoulders, unable to fully define the laws of attraction to the man you longed for the most. he left you speechless with his admittance of yearning for you, and last night was stifling to the point where the both of you were completely on edge with each other.

the memory of that conversation now plagues your mind, and you can see it reflecting clearly within choso's dark eyes.

he's thinking about it too, recalling all the tidbits of information that you shared with him and carefully piecing it together.

“you seem a bit squished,” he states with concern, pinching his brows adorably as he shifts to lay on his side. the warmth of his palm finds your waist, and he carefully pulls you closer into him so you're rested more comfortably. “don’t want you falling off the bed…”

face to face, you both stare longingly at one another for minutes, like you're trying to pluck at the seams to find evidence of where this gnawing pain even begins.

teetering on the precipice of a very long drop, you lick your lips absentmindedly when you realize that choso's palm is still on your waist, his thumb now drawing tiny circles.

"this is better, right?"

he's so close that you can feel the vibration of his deep voice run right through you. "yeah," you sigh, inching even further into his touch, and boldly taking the leap as you arch your pelvis against his. "yeah, much better..."

your name sounds heavenly from his lips as he exhales from the contact, and you stifle another moan feeling his prominent bulge rub up against you.

"is this desire?" he murmurs into your lips, "is this why I ache?"

"cho-choso..." you stutter, but grow still when you feel him gently press his lips onto yours.

silence veils your loud thoughts. his kiss is so tender, so pure, motivated out of sheer instinct and nothing else. it's such a gentle act, one that brushes over your lips far too quickly that you find yourself tilting your chin up in search for him when he pulls away.

"it's only you," he groans with a twinge of frustration. "I only feel this way about you,"

he leans in again, this time allowing the kiss to linger, and you eagerly let him explore your lips, tasting his saccharine inexperience with every peck.

"this is how we satisfy those feelings, right? isn't that what you said?" he presses, begging for answers as his hand slips underneath your top to brush strokes along your lower back.

a tightness coils inside your lower belly, and you're only able to manage a hazy, "mhmm" in response.

"show me," he pleads, collapsing the weight of his body onto yours as he repositions himself over you, "please, show me,"

he looks unreal above you - a physical embodiment of divinity and sin. the breathtaking image of his angelic expression is constrasted harshly against that wild, lustful gaze, making it impossible for you to even deny his request.

half human, half curse; but as you nod your head and guide his lips back onto yours, you knew that moving forward all of him would forever belong to you.

⥽ requests?

#choso x reader #choso x you #choso x female reader #choso fan fiction #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #peach: requests ��️

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heyitsme1040 · 3 months

Note

Hey bestie! I just wanted to say that I love your work and the way you write Steve Harrington. Idk if you have something like this yet, but could you write something where both reader and Steve are super busy, always on opposite schedules. They are both getting kind of sick of it/sad about it until Steve does something to surprise reader :)

I hope you have a lovely day and that your writers block goes away :)

More Certain than Ever [s.h]

summary : This past month you haven’t had any time with your boyfriend. You were both used to being busy, but this was different. Finally no longer able to take it anymore, you quit your job. When Steve hears about it, he decides to ask you a serious question sooner than he planned to.

pairings : Steve Harrington x Reader

warnings : None, just tooth rotting domestic fluff. Reader uses she/her pronouns. No use of Y/N. Dialogue heavy. Kind of dual POV. (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 2,100

AO3 (x)

a/n : Thank you so much for the request! I rewrote this like three times and edited it twice, so that’s why it took a week to post.

This past month was horrible. Your manager at the movie theater had fired the girl you were usually scheduled with, so now your shifts were twice as long. Used to, you had a six hour shift early in the morning. Halfway through your shift was when Jennifer would clock in for the start of the afternoon. You'd get off at two while she worked the slow half of the evening alone. Now, however, you were handling your usual shift as well as Jennifer's all alone. Busy working from eight to eight five days a week, you were overwhelmed. You were doing too much for one person to handle at work, beyond tired when you came home, and missing your boyfriend.

Usually you'd go to Family Video when you got off work to visit Steve on his lunch break. His schedule was less consistent than yours, but the two of you always found a way to have time to see each other. Except now that Jennifer is gone, the two of you were struggling to spend time together. Even your days off weren't lining up. When you weren't working, you were busy cleaning your apartment, trying to catch up on both chores and sleep. You were upset that you never had time to be with Steve. The two of you were trying to find ways around your conflicting schedules.

Once home, you'd eat something simple that required minimal effort before showering. Just as you finish getting into bed, the phone you'd moved into your room would ring. You'd quickly answer, mumbling a happy greeting before being overcome by a yawn. You and Steve would talk for a bit, with you mainly managing to stay awake for twenty minutes listening to Steve's voice telling you about his day at work. Managing to say a quiet 'love you’ before fully falling asleep was an accomplishment. Come morning, you'd hear Steve's steady breaths coming down the line as your alarm was beeping. You'd wish him a good day before returning your receiver to its cradle.

Feeling just as tired as when you went to bed, you got ready for work and left for your shift. You were hating how this job had begun to make you feel. It was the start of a new week. A week to be filled with twelve hour days, an hour both to and from the theater, two hours to try and relax at home, and a restless night's sleep before repeating everything the next day? It was crushing you. You felt like if one more thing happened, you'd simply fall apart.

"You're here!” Your manager exclaimed. "I need to talk to you.”

You gave your best customer-service smile, "Sure thing, what do you need?”

“Well, I need to adjust your hours.”

You raised your brows, surprised by what you just heard. "Okay?”

"Perfect! So for a few days you'll be coming in at six, and you'll also need to stay until ten so that I–”

"No.” You bluntly interrupt while reaching for your name tag.

Your manager’s friendly demeanor instantly faded away. "No?”

“No,” you hand her your name tag. "I quit.”

"You can't quit. I'll accept a two weeks, but–”

"That's not necessary. I quit,” you turn on your heel and walk out.

Hearing your manager shouting the start of many different sentences after you was satisfying. Walking through the doors, knowing you’d never return as anything other than a customer, was satisfying. You were excited and unsure about what to do now that you finally had some time to yourself again. With a smile, you began heading toward Family Video.

The bell rang as you opened the door, Robin’s hair popping up above a shelf of movies as she stood, greeting you. You walked toward her, excited to see your friend.

“Hi,” you said as you turned the corner of the aisle.

“I thought you had to work, what are you doing here?” She exclaimed while pulling you into a tight hug.

Your excited laughter slipped out, “I sort of did something, and now I’m no longer working at the movies.”

“What happened?” Robin gasped, pulling you to sit behind the counter with her.

You explained what happened this morning while she began the process of rewinding tapes. The more you spoke, the more Robin commented about how ridiculous your old manager was. You knew the way you were being treated at the movies since Jennifer was fired wasn’t great, but you didn’t realize just how bad things had gotten until you were explaining it.

“With how long I’ve been working twice as many hours I have some time before I absolutely need to be hired. I’ll be able to apply to some jobs while being able to actually wait to hear back,” you thought aloud. “I also just paid my rent for the month, so I don’t have to worry about that either right now.”

"Oh!” Robin quickly stood. "Keith just put a sign up, we're hiring! You could work here!”

“You think? I feel like I should mention it to Steve at least.”

Robin grabbed your shoulders and shook you slightly, “He would love it! He's been so mopey this entire month. He misses you, and he hated how overworked you've been. We'll both tell Keith how good a worker you are, and that you literally quit working at the movies. There's no way you wouldn't get it!” She rambled excitedly.

"Okay,” you put a hand up. "I'll fill out an application, and I can bring it up to Steve later today.”

Robin clapped, grabbing the clipboard of application forms.

Steve tripped over his own feet while rushing out his house. He slammed the car door closed, cringing at how rough he was being on his baby. He had to ignore the awful feeling slamming the door caused as he was late to his shift. He was pushing the speed limit his entire drive to Family Video, prepared to apologize profusely to Robin. Only slightly haphazard in his parking, Steve shrugged on his vest while entering.

"I'm sorry,” he says while heading to the back to clock in. "My alarm clock died.”

Robin waved away his concern, "It's fine.”

"Like it's plugged in, but not on–wait. What do you mean it's fine?”

"I mean it's fine. Quiet morning, your girlfriend came in looking for you, she filled out an application, she left after a while, and the tape rewinder broke again.”

Steve stood still, trying to process everything Robin just said. "She came by? Is she okay? What happened?”

Guiding Steve to sit down, Robin rubbed his shoulder, "She's fine. Everything's alright. She quit the theater, and I suggested she apply here. She's going to talk to you about it, not wanting to step on your toes. I got her to apply anyway, then we hung out for like twenty minutes. She said she was going to head home and ‘sleep until there's no more movies.’”

"She always hated working there,” Steve mumbled.

"Yeah?”

Nodding, a soft smile creeps up. "She's not a fan of most new movies. And she hates popcorn. But she liked seeing how excited people would get after watching a movie.”

"She's a good one," Robin nudges his side.

Steve nodded, thinking. He was getting off early today. He could go see you after so much of your lives not lining up the way it used to.

Steve patted his pockets, making sure he had everything before grabbing the brown bag from the back seat. He took the stairs up to your apartment two at a time. Biting his lip, he knocked on your door. He heard a banging noise before your muffled shout that you were coming. His heart melted as the door opened, revealing a sleepy sight. Your hair was messier than you ever let him see, his sweatshirt was engulfing your frame, and your sleep shorts barely peeked out from the bottom of the sweatshirt. The surprise on your face made him chuckle as a wave of pink slowly flooded your cheeks.

“I brought lunch,” Steve says in a daze, focused on your sleepy appearance.

You grabbed his hand, pulling him into your apartment. You set the bag on the coffee table before hugging him. Feeling your arms around him pulled Steve from his stupor. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, gently swaying you both side to side.

“I've missed you,” Steve whispers.

“I missed you, too. How are you?” You pull back slightly to look at him closer. “You seem tired.”

“So do you,” Steve counters.

He watches as you nod, gesturing to the couch. “I couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way to bed after double checking I locked the door.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits. “I’d try but it just wasn't happening. So I listened to your breaths. Eventually it would allow me to sleep, knowing you were right there and safe. But my alarm didn't go off today, so I was late. Robin told me how I had just missed you once I finally clocked in.”

You walked to the couch, pulling Steve to sit beside you. He tugged you into his side, leaning back against the couch. You curled into him with a hum.

“I quit today,” you state. “Finally.”

Steve nods, “So I hear. And you applied at Family Video. What happened?”

Your shrug feels stiff against Steve's side. “I just walked in, hadn't even clocked in yet, when I was being told I was getting more hours. I was sick of it, and I just quit. I didn't even let her say anything after that really. She tried to tell me I couldn't quit, that it was for a few days, but I was done. Last time something was for a few days put me at twice my hours for the month. So I walked out as she tried to make it be my two weeks.”

Steve squeezes you tighter against his side. “I’m proud you quit. I've been worried about you.”

“I know, and I'm sorry. And I applied at Family Video when I came to see you, but it was just Robin and she talked me into it. I mean, I like the idea of us working together but don't want to be too much.”

“You could never be too much. In fact,” Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, “I have an idea.” He places the box into your lap. “I know it's only been six months, and this past one has only been tired phone calls, but I want you to move in with me. I was going crazy without seeing you this entire month, and I think Robin’s tired of me complaining about how much I miss you.”

“Yes,” you kiss him. “I would love to live with you.”

Steve held you close, kissing you passionately. When you pulled away for air a yawn escaped. Steve stood, holding a hand out to help you up.

“C'mon, I think we need to finish that nap,” Steve smiled.

You weakly protest as he pulls you up. "But the food, and we need to figure everything out, then there's–”

“Absolutely nothing that can't wait,” Steve promised while guiding you to bed. "We can eat when we wake up. We can share my room, or you can choose a room. Your lease here has been month-to-month since your original twelve-month agreement came to term. And I would love to work with you, you're more qualified than I am. Plus, Robin really wants you there too.”

You lay down, facing Steve. Your eyes scan his face intensely, trying to find any doubt. He looks sure. You think about how miserable you've been the past month. Knowing Steve felt much the same was reassuring. You'd never felt as comfortable nor certain about anything or anyone the way you do with Steve.

"Are you sure?” You timidly ask.

Steve cups your cheeks, holding your gaze. “I've never been more certain about anything.”

"Same here," you admit. "It's a plan. Sounds like you've thought about everything.”

Steve's cheeks flushed, “I was going to ask in a few months, but this past month made me want to ask you sooner. I was going to wait until you were off Friday, but then today happened. And it seemed perfect.”

You smiled, knowing how deeply Steve feels. “What else have you thought about?”

"Well…”

You and Steve fell asleep to plans of the future and many promises each of you wanted to fulfill together.

Author's Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

#fanfiction #fanfiction writer #fanfic blog #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #fanfiction requests #request #domestic fluff #fluff

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janyiahsucks-blog · 10 months

Text

Rodeo Clown

a lyric fic inspired by rodeo clown by dijon

wc 1.9k

warnings: commitment issues, slight angst, teenagers being stupid

“Well I can't lie, I couldn't wait

But it's half-past eight and you're late again”

This is the fourth time this month miles has been late for one of your “hangouts” if you can even call them hangouts. They’re more dates than anything. At the moment the two of you are at a stand still in the no man’s land between relationship and friendship but you can’t shake the fact that something is off. Ever since he became spider-man he’s been blowing you off but some of that is slightly expected. Now more than ever though it’s been getting worse. Like you can’t even get a hold of him and he’s always talking about this strange new friend who doesn’t seem to have any name. But you know he knows we all know everyone knows it’s Gwen. The girl he started being friends with right before all of this started. Before what you thought was a life long friendship with a completely unrequited crush turned into so much more.

“Well, I got those high heels on, and lace

And I spent two or three hours beatin' my face”

Tonight’s date was supposed to be special it was supposed to be something of an anniversary since the two of you started “talking” (as he called it) six months ago. You spent about two whole hours making yourself look as good as possible. Dressing up to the nines pulling out your favorite products to style your hair and maybe a bit more makeup than usual. But once again he was no where to be found. You whip out your phone and send the fourth text this hour.

you: hey miles is everything okay?

you: ur really late now

you: if you’re not coming can you js tell me that

you: don’t even bother anymore miles i’m going home. i hope wtv it was is important.

“So why? Could you explain?

I can't lie, I'm fed up”

Sick and tired were the only words to describe how you felt walking home alone. The ghost of him lingered on the walk as if he was right beside you. But he wasn’t he was undoubtedly most likely somewhere with Gwen. She seemed to be the only topic with him recently.

“Yeah me and my new friend we had such a fun time when we went there” “Me and my friend swung through here once it was like the highlight of my day.” “My new friend is a little quicker than you so I gotta adjust my pace when we walk together”. Though she was nameless for the past few months he used to address her by name. You never put the face to the name never even met her ,but you knew it was always her.

“I don't like being stood up

And hey, hey

What are you ashamed of?”

The only thought that could cross your mind was. “Why?” What was so wrong with you that you couldn’t be placed on the same pedestal as Gwen. It’s always Gwen this Gwen that but never you. Your name never graces the same smile that hers does. His eyes light up and his voice shifts a pitch when he talks about her. Like that’s his entire world. What is he so ashamed of when he’s with you. He hides you from the world and his parents haven’t even met you. Maybe they met Gwen though. One thing was for sure you couldn’t stand being stood up like this again.

“So what are you so afraid of?

'Cause you're missin' out

On good, good lovin'”

“You know what if he doesn’t wanna answer me i’ll just call him” You mutter under your breath sighing out of pure frustration.

After five rings and no answer you hear his voice “Hey it’s Miles” “Finally you’re gonna answer-“ “I’m not at the phone right now probably super busy with a bunch of cool stuff but you can leave a message. Peace” And a long aggravating beep. “If you never wanted something serious that’s all you had to say. You never had to lead me on or leave me stranded at that stupid fancy restaurant lookin all stupid Miles. Go be with that stupid Gwen girl or whatever her name is cause it’s obvious that everything we have ain’t as serious as whatever you have goin with her” Your voice cracks out of pure rage and a little (lot) of sadness. The heavy feeling in your chest returns. “All I wanted to do was love you man” You say to no one in particular just trying to put the thought into the air. Hoping and praying it would relieve some of the tension.

“You ride those rank bulls and get first place

Eight seconds is all it takes

You got those silver spurs on

And chaps 'round your waist

Calloused hands, and dirt on your face”

You knew all it took to be spider-man. The constant late nights and beatings. Miles would come crawling through the fire escape attached to your window. Bruises and blood seeping through the suit. Patch ups and crying sessions. Either you on his shoulder begging him to be safe. Or him on yours pushing all his problems into the safe atmosphere of your arms. You knew the tolls both mental and physical that it took on him. Never knowing if the scars you see will be the worst of it all. Trying to hold onto the memories the two of you made while he was out protecting the city and putting his life on the line.

“And hey, hey

I still wear the t-shirt that you gave me”

You finally made your way home unlocking the door and sighing before trudging to your bathroom and washing off all the makeup you took so long on stripping yourself of your cutest outfit. Putting on the shirt Miles left on the floor of your room one night. The one you thought framed him the best but he said it “look way better on you”. Pushed it on you to keep it and he could just wear his hoodie home. Reluctantly you agreed wishing you had something of his to keep you company when he was gone.

“So what are you so ashamed of?

Rodeo could kill ya”

He never really tried to bring up his spider-man duties to you. He thought it would bore you and you didn’t wanna hear some of the gory details of his day to day. You wished you could hear it all though. Just know he’s safe, know nothing out there is trying their hardest to kill him. The job is deadly and you both were fully aware of the topic yet he tried to dance around it. Never fully bringing up the whole word to you to keep you out of danger and him out of a strong headache. You were his safe space and he didn’t wanna invade that with spider-man. He didn’t want what the two of you had to be infected just like every other part of his life.

“I just wanna kiss ya

But you won't let me near ya

But I'm here all the same”

Lately though it’s like he’s been putting up these walls. Slowly but surely placing the bricks day by day it’s like you get less and less out of him. One week it’s long heartfelt conversations all night the next it’s short one word responses to all of your texts. You just wanted to be there for him more than anything but he won’t let you close enough to do that. All you wanted to do was hold him in your arms and kiss his forehead telling him everything would work out and this is just temporary. You’d be there in all the other ways he would let you though even the smallest ones.

“At the rodeo, I

Put my face on and smile

And you ride good”

Miles runs his hands through his hair trying not to rip it out of the roots. “Shit shit SHIT” He paces around his room trying to keep himself controlled. He was out on patrol once again forgetting about another date. He made his way home about five minutes ago with a proud smile on his face. He just defeated one of the sickest villains in Brooklyn and got him straight to jail. His smile dropped when he took out his phone and saw around seven notifications from you on his phone. “Oh fuck I’m so fucked”. He knew that keeping up with a “relationship” could be stressful especially as spider-man. But you, you handled it with such grace. Always knowing what to say and do. Being there for him without him having to say a word and nothing made him prouder than parading you around town. Telling all his friends about you and Ganke couldn’t go five minutes without hearing your name. He tried to keep up he really did but he just couldn’t. God he loved you he just really had a funny way of showing it.

“And I get scared watchin' you

And the crowd gets wild, run to you”

He runs out of his room as soon as he sees all the texts and listens to the voicemail. He barely has enough time to put on his coat as he rushes to your house. A few minutes later he finds himself sprinting up your fire escape. The knocks on your window scared you as you tried to fall asleep.

“Hey mi amor open the window please”

You make no efforts to get out of bed and unlock your window and he sees that.

“Please you gotta let me make this up to you. I’m sorry I swear just lemme explain myself”

He placed his head against the window as tears start to pool in his eyes. You finally open the window and quickly turn your back to him trying to make some distance between the two of you.

“So where were you Miles”

A sigh escapes his lips quickly. “I was out on patrol”

“With Gwen…” You cut him off quickly.

“What…No not with Gwen. Why would it matter if I was.” He cocks his head to the side trying to get a grip on what the problem really is.

“I dunno you just seem to be spending a lot of time with her that’s all.” She shrugs trying to make herself seem nonchalant even though this conversation was killing her on the inside.

“Is this what this is about. Gwen….Really?” He scoffs.

“Yes Miles I mean you seem to prioritize her over whatever this is. You never even asked me out yet you’ve been taking me on dates and sneaking through my window for months. It’s like this means nothing to you. You’re always so quick to talk her up though. If you really wanna be with her go do it.”

Miles silently crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you placing his head in the crook of your neck.

“I run to you, I run to you, I run to you

I love you, I love you”

“I’m sorry for letting these thoughts fill up your mind baby. It was never like that with her I swear to you. She’s just my friend someone I can talk to about all my spider-man stuff.

He runs his hands across his face sighing before continuing his speech.

“I love you mi amor. That’s why I’ve been acting like this. I didn’t know how to address it or if you would feel the same way and I was scared. I was so so scared. I’m sorry for letting my emotions get the better of me and not explaining. I’ll do better; I’ll be better. I promise”

He kisses you on the cheek gently holding you like you could break if he applied any more pressure.

“Will you let me be your boyfriend”

sorry for the long ahh fic 💀💀 anyway u should gimme requests and stuff. thankssss

#miles x reader #astv fanfic #atsv x reader #miles morales x reader #atsv fanfiction #miles morales x you #miles morales #miles morales 1610 #across the spider verse spoilers #miles morales headcannons #across the spiderverse #atsv miles #spiderman atsv #Spotify

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triplesilverstar · 4 months

Text

Rating: G

Pairing: Vash X F!Reader

CW: Mentions of pregnancy, Aliases, holiday fluff, breaking and entering ok on Christmas, growing up too fast

Word count: Roughly 4.8K

A/N: Well. Once more like Spock I am a liar, this is way more than a drabble… however, I don’t care. So enjoy Vash taking Rei to see some snow for the first time with the help of Uncle Livio!

It had started out innocently enough when you and Vash first heard about it, a biodome being built a two-hour Tomas ride from your little home sort of in the middle of nowhere. A few vague inquiries as to what it was going to be, the number of staff involved, and most importantly, were the Earth forces going to be around and managing the site.

The answer to that inquiry was to be the deciding factor on whether you and Vash were going to stick around or up and move to another spot in the middle of nowhere. After all, it wasn’t like the two of you had any firm roots yet with your little Tomas ranch that you were starting.

When you and Vash did get the answer both of you had sat down at the little table in your kitchen with a list of pros and cons. After a week of discussions you had decided to stay as the benefits did outweigh the negatives and a new town was starting to pop up in the middle which would cut down on the planning required for regular supplies the two of you would need. The biggest deciding factor had been the discovery you had been expecting and Vash stated he wanted to have a home for them and not to still be on the run and was willing to take on the added risks that came with that.

Two years later, the artic biodome was up and running. Another public relations attempt by the Earth forces to win over the local populace and Rei, well Rei at one and a half was looking more like an eight-year-old. If you and Vash thought things were going to get easier as your cheeky little boy grew you have been quite wrong.

“Mom?” It still ate at your heart that he had made the shift from Mama to Mom in the last few weeks since the skating incident.

“Yes, Baby?” You called from inside the washing machine, struggling to reach the socks wedged in the back. Why did you have such a massive drum in this thing? Right because you needed to get everything in it and normally it wasn’t a problem.

“Someone is coming up the door.” The sodden fabric was forgotten as you pushed yourself out and whipped around.

“Where’s your Papa?” Striding towards the hallway and down to the living room to look at the window, in the distance a visible short cloud of dust.

“In the barn.” Rei is right next to you looking out at the cloud as it slowly grows closer, reaching out your arm to pull him into your side and ruffling his soft blond locks.

His own little arms reach up to wrap as best as they can around your middle. “Alright then, you and I will stay here for a few minutes to see where that cloud goes ok?” At least he still wants to cuddle with you, at the strange point in his life where he still wants to snuggle with you and Vash when he gets the chance sets seems torn with wanting something like a baby would according to him.

Vash had told him he was allowed to want snuggles with his parents no matter how old he was.

Your fingers kept carding through his hair, his most recent request for a haircut like his Papa’s had warmed your heart and every day Rei was starting to look more and more like Vash. As the two of you watched the cloud headed towards the barn and you let out a proverbial sigh of relief. Not a real one since Rei didn’t need to catch on just how worried you had been, and if they were heading for the barn they were familiar enough with your little family to know that was the best stop. “Looks like nothing to worry about Rei.” It then hit you. “Rei. Why were you in the living room anyway? Shouldn’t you have been in the kitchen doing your schoolwork?”

A sudden spasm from the body under your arm and you knew you had caught the boy. “ugh, I was taking a break, Mom.” Unwrapping his arms from around your middle and rubbing the back of his head in a familiar gesture had you rolling your eyes at the little blond.

Hands on his shoulders you started leading him back towards the kitchen with a roll of your eyes. “Nice try you little scamp. Now back to it, and once I get this laundry out we can have a real break and I’ll get us a snack.”

Snack done and back to going over his schoolwork from Home since it was going to be the easiest way to educate the boy and not have anyone question his growth spurt. You both paused as the front door opened and you could hear the sound of a heavier set of boots following behind the familiar sound of Vash’s sure steps. The dark-haired plant led the way into the kitchen with a much broader white-haired man behind him.

“Uncle Livio!” Rei was out of his chair in a flash and rushing the gunslinger turned, well you weren’t fully sure what to call the man that helped run the orphanage he and Wolfwood had grown up in.

“Hey, little guy!” Wide palms wrapping under your son’s armpits and hefting him up into his arms. “Look at you, you’re getting pretty big I guess I shouldn’t be calling you a little guy anymore.” Standing yourself as Vash approached, bending down for a quick kiss and to whisper in your ear as Rei started talking a ile a minute to Livio.

“Seems we might have another chance for our little sprout to experience something.” Sliding his hand down your side to gently grip your hip.

“Oh? I’m guessing you mean Rei and not the newest one.” Smirking as you lean your body against his and watch Livio give Rei another toss in the air.

“Very funny, Mayfly.” Licking his lip before giving you a tender swat “I do think you might need to miss out on this little adventure if it happens. We’ll be going somewhere a little on the chilly side.” Raising your eyebrow at him and wondering why he would word his comment in such a way.

“I have so many questions now.” You whisper as Rei is placed on his feet once more, only to feel Vash press his lips to the top of your head this time.

“Ew.” His nose scrunched up as Rei made a face at both of his parents. “I don’t need to see kissy parents.”

Both you and Vash shared a look before scooping your son up and started peppering his face with kisses making the boy squeal at how both of you were gross.

After supper and once Rei was in bed the three adults found themselves at the table, a mug in front of each of them with the dishes done and the lights turned down low. “Alright boys tell me what this grand plan is?” Sitting closer to Vash so the fingers of his flesh hand can dance across your stomach if he wants to be that handsy while you’re expecting your second child you aren’t going to tell him otherwise when Rei isn’t around.

“Well.” Livio started leaning against the table his face growing serious. “A few days ago the orphanage got an invitation to go see the artic Biodome, and the Earth forces sent a bus and escort and everything.” Three of his large fingers started to tap and you recognized the signs he was nervous. “First. It was amazing! I thought the ice rink thing was neat but this? This blew it all away! So while I was there with the kids I started looking around and I thought ‘Rei would love this’ and started paying attention to security since I know you and Vash won’t risk someone making the jump about who you are and putting Rei in danger.”

At Livio’s admission, you find yourself paying more and more attention, because you know Livio cares for your little boy just as much as you and Vash do. Reaching your hand down to intertwine your fingers with your spouse as Livio keeps talking walking you through his plan on how to get both Vash and Rei inside the dome to have a little adventure. “I was planning originally for the three of you, but I guess your condition may preclude you from going.”

“Come on now, I’m not that bad with the cold. I could handle a few hours inside of the Biodome all dressed up.” Pouting a little at the fact that the men seem to think you wouldn’t be able to handle the chill.

“Mayfly.” Vash is gentle as his prosthetic tilts your head towards his, the mirth shining in his eyes making you smile. “You tried to crawl into the oven with it on when you were pregnant with Rei because you weren’t warm enough.” Your smile hadn’t dropped that quickly in a long time as you scowled at the reminder.

“It’s not my fault your babies make me want to cook myself.” Grumbling as Livio takes the lead in the conversation once more and gets it back on track on what needs to be done. After all, you aren’t going to deny your son the chance to see actual snow and trees, and with what Livio has learned you only have a week or so to pull it off before a new schedule is put in place. One the ex-Gung-Ho-Guns member would have zero reason to go back and snoop around for that wouldn’t somehow lead back to your little family.

The night of, Vash found himself thundering across the sand dunes, a sleeping boy in front of him on the Tomas and saddlebags full of warm clothes to change into before entering the biodome. His eyes were sharp as he kept his gaze forward looking for an outcropping Livio had described to meet him at that was only a ten-minute ride via a Tomas. Or at least according to him.

Sure enough in the distance he could make it out “There’s where we’re headed Pookie.” Whispered to his Tomas who trilled in response, the smallest shift of her reins changing directions and slowing to a canter as the pair approached.

“Glad you could make it.” Almost as if blending from the darkness Livio seemed to appear, dressed in what looked like an Earth forces uniform, reaching out and petting the bird. “Rei, wake up little guy.” His other palm landed on the boy’s knee and he gave it a soft shake.

A grumble from the small blond who shifted in his father's hold to bury his face in his chest. Laughing Vash leaned down to whisper against his growing locks. “Rei, if you don’t wake up we can’t see snow. You wanna see snow with your Papa don’t you?”

That did the trick in rousing the boy, a little yawn before rubbing at his eyes. “We’re there Papa?” His voice mumbled with sleep and those bright blue orbs slowly blinked as he tried to wake up. Which to Vash was hilarious since before they had left the house Rei had been almost bouncing in his excitement.

“Yea buddy, Uncle Livio is gonna take us the rest of the way.” At that Livo was reaching to help the boy down and Vash gave the silent command for his mount to lower down to the ground before he too dismounted and went for their saddle bags. Grabbing what they’d need for when they got to the biodome. “Ok, Pookie.” Petting his Tomas who looked at him as if following his every word. “You stay here like a good girl, and you’ll get lots of extra treats in the morning.” A low warble and the bird settled down into the sand hidden by the outcropping, Vash knew his Tomas would stay, the promise of treats or not.

“Do you have what you need Vash?” A nod to the white-haired man and both Vash and Rei were crawling into the sidecar attached to his motorcycle. The question had come up the night of everything being planned and the truth was, the Earth forces used a similar model for roaming patrols around the site. This way there would be less chance of them being caught.

“Yea. All in this bag here.” Patting the object beside his son in front of him.

“Alright.” Nodding before Livio fixed his attention on the small blond boy. “Now Rei, hold on to your Papa real tight and do exactly as he says. Can you promise me you’ll do that?”

“I promise.” A sleepy agreement as Rei still worked on waking up, but as soon as the engine flared to life Vash could feel the difference as the boy perked up. Sitting a little straighter and starting to look around, only to squeal as they jolted forward into the night his grip on Vash’s arm grew. A chuckle deep in his chest that was lost to the roar of the engine, he knew Rei loved the speed and the way the wind whipped through his hair.

In almost no time at all the trio were stopped by a hidden exit, Livio leading the way and Vash carrying both the bag with their clothes and Rei. Slipping inside Vash and Rei both paused, blinking at the sudden difference in light. A chamber separating them from the Biodome itself, this entrance was used more for emergency exit requirements and to check the area instead of having to walk all through the space.

“Alright Rei, let's get you wrapped up.” Vash and Rei both quickly added layers and switched their footwear to better insulate their feet as per the directions from Livio. Vash felt the amount of clothes he was pulling on was a little, well, overboard. He had spent almost a century and a half on the desert planet and in the freezing nights he had been chilled down to the marrow in his bone more than once. Yet this felt like overkill, him and Rei both looking more like marshmallows instead of people.

Feeling himself starting to grow warm, however, he turned to Livio, gloves still off, and checking his watch. “Alright Livio, tell me how long we have.”

Checking his own watch and humming “Two hours, so let's sync up our clocks for an hour and forty-five. I’ll be here to get you then.” Timings set Vash went down on his knees in front of Rei, checking the zipper and fastening on the boy's jacket and pants to ensure everything was done.

“Ready?”

“Ready Papa!” An enthusiast thumbs up from Rei, made cuter in his father's eyes by the fact only his thumbs were desirable from the material of his mittens. A final nod to Livio and the pair stepped inside the dome through the metal doors.

And Vash felt his heart freeze inside of his chest.

Not from fear, not from despair, not from anything but the simple wonder that gripped him as he looked at the landscape before him. A vision of white and green as far as his eyes could see, the light of the moons illuminating the area they were in more than the spotlights recessed into the walls around them.

It took his breath away.

Scant seconds later Vash looked down to see Rei looking out at the scenery with just as much awe shining in bright blue eyes, mouth parted as he stared out into the snowy expanse. “It’s pretty Papa.” The words and that whimsical tone that left his mouth with them made Vash’s heart swell in his chest, even if all they did was look at this landscape it had been worth the risk.

“It sure is buddy.” Father and son stood there in the snow for a few moments before Rei piqued up, not quite breaking the stillness.

“So. What do we do Papa?”

Throwing his head back and letting out a roar of laughter, Vash grabbed Rei and hefted him upwards planting a kiss on his cheek. “You’re Mama had a few suggestions, so I think we’ll try those first.” Stepping more out into the space, Vash sent the boy in his arms a wink before falling onto his back causing Rei to giggle like mad as his father served as a cushion for him. “She said we can make angels in the snow.” Spreading his legs and arms Vash moved them as if doing jumping jacks, Rei still laughing from where he was wedged against his father's side.

The duo stood and Rei tilted his head at the imprint left in the snow. “It doesn’t really look like an angel Papa.” The boy then fell himself and did the same thing his father had and he started laughing even more. “It’s soft Papa!” His voice rose and fell with his laughter as the soft fluff moved around him and all Vash could do was smile, dropping down just a little way away from Rei and repeating the action.

“It is, it moves like sand but it feels lighter.” Eventually, Rei stopped laughing and Vash sat up to see Rei shaking from the effort of holding the sound in. “Alright, buddy let me help you up.” Legs spread wide Vash scooped Rei up once more and both looked at the imprint.

“Papa, that looks more like the cookie cutter Mom says in an Angel.”

The smaller one of Rei did look far more like the shape and Vash just shook his head chuckling while agreeing with the boy. “It does.” Letting out a hum Vash brought his face closer to Rei’s and booped his nose with his own. “Now. According to your Mama, we can make snowballs and have a fight.”

“What’s a snowball?” Tilting his head once more Rei looked at her father rather quizzical.

“Well.” Putting his son back on his feet Vash knelt down and swept some of the snow into his hand. “She said you have to pack it together like this and try to make a ball.” He showed Rei what he was doing and Rei tried to do the same, but with a much smaller ball being made by his hands.

“What do you do once it’s made?” His natural curiosity took over as Rei let out one of his own hums that the larger he got the more Vash realized it was one of his mannerisms that his miniature was picking up.

“A few things. It can be used to make a snowman if I remember what she said, but it’s mostly used for snowball fights.”

“How’s that done?”

“You throw them at peop-” His words stopped as Vash suddenly found his mouth filled with snow from the ball Rei had formed being thrown squarely in his face and a giggling Rei was trying to make another quickly.

A bark of laughter and Vash was tossing his first snowball at his son before chaos ensued between them. Rei made the balls as quickly as his little hands could and threw them half-formed at his father. Vash for his part was taking his time making the balls, pretending to have terrible aim as he threw them at the boy with perhaps one in every five hitting their mark on the center of his chest. A lot less than the almost constant hits to his own body as both laughed and weaved between trees and a few rocks placed about the area.

Throwing a final one Rei flopped down into the snow once more, his tiredness starting to catch up to him from the activity in the middle of the night. Dragging his feet Vash made a show of walking closer before kneeling down in front of the panting boy. “One snowball left. Wanna try and make a snowman?”

A shake of his head no as Rei held out his hand for the ball. Vash gave it to him fully expecting to have the ball thrown at him, only for Rei to instead press it against his father's face a short giggle following it. Laughing himself Vash wiped the wet frozen pieces from his skin, taking note of Rei’s slowly reddening turning cheeks. Pulling his glove off to check the pink-tinged skin. “Hmmm, you might be chilly faster than I thought.” Checking his watch Vash felt the shock in his system, he and Rei had already been inside the dome for almost an hour and fifteen minutes.

“Is it time to go Papa?”

“Almost Rei. Anything else you wanna do?” Rei shook his head because pausing and sitting up, letting out a long breath and his eyes wide.

“Papa. Look at the cloud! It’s a lot bigger than when we were at the ice rink! And you’re making them too!” The excitement was palpable as Rei watched the little clouds rise before disappearing. “Why does it do that Papa?”

“I’m not fully sure Rei.” Vash fibbed, he wasn’t going to go into a long explanation as to what caused the vapor clouds, not when Rei was enjoying the simple wonder in them so much. “Maybe it’s just something a little magical.” Except Rei didn’t seem to be listening to him anymore. Or watching the vapor clouds they were exhaling.

No Rei was looking skyward, and Vash tilted his own eyes upwards and once more his body froze in wonder. It had started to snow inside of the biodome. Lifting Rei up Vash noticed the dampness clinging to the outside of his jacket as the realization hit him as to why they needed so many layers, yet with the amount of time left Vash pushed those thoughts aside. Carefully lifting the boy so his legs were dangled over his shoulders and perched atop him in a piggyback ride so he could look more at the sky.

It was a rather memorable sight. The gently falling snow, highlighted against the night sky and cast in the light of the moons made it seem almost as if some of the stars were falling down around the pair.

Vash could feel Rei shift atop his shoulders, his smaller chest hitting the top of his head and the sound of muffled wet slapping reached his ears. “What are you up to, Rei?”

“Trying to catch the white stuff, Papa.”

“They’re called snowflakes.” Chuckling as Vash adjusted his grip on the boy's legs, swaying on his feet as they both kept looking skyward and Vash started taking them back towards the entrance they had come in through.

“I want a closer look, but when I catch them they melt.” A clear pout discernible in his voice had Vash chuckling again.

“They are just frozen drops of water.”

“Isn't that ice Papa?”

“Sort of. I guess ice is a bunch of water frozen, where a snowflake is a tiny drop of it.” his voice was wistful as Vash trucked along, the sound of sluffing snow from his footsteps with the occasional wet thump of Rei's mittens.

“Wait, Papa.” Feeling Rei trying to wiggle in his hold to grab one of his arms, the one that led to his prosthetic. “They aren't melting!”

Sure enough, as Vash glanced at his gloved metal hand the snowflakes landing there were staying frozen, his hand of metal and wires with sensors not producing enough heat to melt them. “You're right Rei, they aren't.” Turning his hand so it was palm towards the sky Vash held it up closer to eye level so both he and Rei could see them.

“Why are they different?” A soft warm smile grew on his face at the curious nature of his little boy. It made his heart warm as the duo looked at the vastly different geometrical shapes in his hand.

It also had Vash remember a time long ago when he and Nai had been learning from Rem and the subject of freezing temperatures had come up. He could remember her voice as she spoke and her motherly soft smile as she tapped her cheek. “You’re grandma-”

“Your mom?”

A larger grin on his face at the interruption. “Yes, my Mama, told me it’s because when snowflakes form because they’re in the sky and just little drops of water, they grow bigger and make tiny crystals. She also said every single one is different, so they all have different patterns that they show.” A very limited version of what had been had about crystallization and the six-fold symmetry of snowflakes he had with Rem and Nai but for now Vash wanted the magic of the night to remain the center of Rei’s attention but it had given the older plant an idea on what his next science lesson with his boy would be.

“I wish we could bring some back to show Mom.” The little catch in his voice and Vash could tell his little boy had grown a little solemn.

“I know buddy, but it might not have been a good idea for her to come with us.” You and Vash had decided to wait to tell Rei that he was going to be a big brother soon, you more than your husband as you had told him you wanted to make sure nothing was going to happen to your newest sprout before telling him. “Speaking off your Mama, any reason you’ve switched from calling her Mama to Mom?” It had been eating at Vash the last few days, he knew it hurt your heart in some way but the fact Rei still called him Papa had a gnawing sensation in his belly.

“I.” A pause as Rei let his little hands reach down to grip his father's jaw. “I know big kids don’t call their mother’s Mama anymore. I heard it on the radio on some show, and I don’t want mom to worry about a stranger thinking I’m younger than I look.” As soon as the words sunk in they broke Vash’s heart, Rei was just a little boy and he was already carrying far more weight on his small shoulders than he should have been.

“Rei. My little Sunshine, you can call your mother whatever you want it doesn’t matter how hold you are. Those radio shows are meant for entertainment, you don’t need to worry about what they say during them if you aren’t doing them.” Licking his lips as his throat started to close up from the sorrow racing through him, Rei wasn’t supposed to carry their burdens. “As to strangers buddies, I know you’re thinking about how many steps your mom and I take when it comes to you. Those are to keep you safe buddy, so you can grow up happy and surrounded by love. You know if you worry about those things you can talk to your Mama and me about that right?” A rather somber conversation to have with his son but on some level Vash knew one day they would have to have such a discussion.

“I will now Papa. I just know you and Mama are always so busy and you worry so much.” Stopping a few feet from the exit Vash looked back up towards the sky, taking both of his hands and wrapping them around Rei’s smaller ones.

“You never need to be worried about adding to what we have going on Rei, we love you to bits. You’re our little miracle, and you have no idea how much I love you, my little Rei of Sunshine.” Squeezing his hands Vash smiled well aware his little sprout might not be able to see it. “Now, we still have a few minutes, wanna have another snowball fight?”

Hours later you find yourself sitting on your porch wrapped in a throw from your and Vash’s shared bedroom, and once you see a hint of a dust cloud on the horizon you rise heading towards the barn. It isn’t too long of a wait until Vash is trotting in with a very sleepy Rei in his lap rubbing his eyes.

“Welcome home, did you have a good time with your Papa tonight?” Hands held up to take Rei from his father and embrace him in your arms so both of you are swaddled in the warm blanket.

“Yes Mama, it was so fun.” A long tired yawn as Rei rubs at his eyes once more. “I wanted to bring you some snowflakes but Papa said they’d melt.” Your heart soars at being called Mama once more and that your little blond wanted to try and bring you back a snowflake or two.

“That was sweet of you baby, but your Papa was right.” Another yawn and you press a quick kiss into the golden locks that Rei barely protests, a clear sign he’s exhausted. “Let’s get you to bed, and you can tell me all about it in the morning.” Blowing a kiss to your husband before turning to head back into your little house, some hot coco can wait for another night when your boys aren’t exhausted.

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