me again. sneaking. creeping. crawling. sun time. (this is totallyyyy not sammyyyy)
Wally Darling x Shy!Reader? :grins: Romantical, again, because they're wee little simps, and i am merely the vessel of their queerness.
Either properly gay together, or crushes like the last one- idm either >:)
They should bake together, tho <33 Maybe Wally walked in on Y/N making treats for him and decided to help :melty:,,
God, you’re gay!!! Gay gay gay!!!! I cannot BELIEVE I have such a homosexual on my blog (hi again Sammy!! Gives you a big fat kiss! /p) !!!!! /j
Surprise Visit with a side of, ah, Flour.
Wally Darling x GN!Shy!Reader
Drabble format, established romantic relationship!
Flour.
Flour was everywhere.
Heaving a weary sigh, you’d idly pat your hands off on your pants— a half-baked (haha!) thought as the powder smeared onto those, too. But your hands were clean, that’s all you cared about as you overlooked the mess with a sigh.
Youuu.. had been trying to bake some goodies, as a gift for a certain someone! But goodness, you did not expect the flour bag to be as heavy as it was. Or for the bag itself to be so slippery and.. ohhh dear.. Pursing you lips as you looked over the mess, you’d soon give a sneeze— before wiping your nose. Dreadful, dreadful flour.. With a sigh, you’d turn to go and grab your broom— before nearly jumping out of your skin.
Wally. Your beloved partner. Standing there. Silent. How long had he been there?? What??? How did he get in? Why does he keep doing this???
Upon your startled squeak, his expression would soften into slight concern— before he gave his soft, recognizable laugh.
“Are.. you okay, over there, sweet..heart? You look a bit.. uhm..” He’d click his tongue. “.. floured. Ha ha ha!”
Heaving a few breathes to calm yourself, you’d soon sputter out a laugh— brushing at the flour coating your face, and your chest, and your legs.. Your cheeks quickly warmed up, partially due to just.. embarrassment. How much of that had he seen?? Ohh, goodness.. Instead, though, at your lack of proper reply, he’d gently grab one of your flour covered hands between his own. He’d blow on it— both to.. get rid of some of the flour, and to make a small joke out of it, before planting a small kiss to your palm.
“Do.. you want.. help.. cleaning this.. up?”
You wanted to say no, but— aaagh,.. the mess was a bit overwhelming, but— ah!! Regardless, he seemed to catch on. Gently pulling you down by your shoulder, he’d pepper a small kiss to your flour-covered-cheek.. before giving a small sneeze. It made you give a soft laugh, and his eyes seemed to grow a bit larger. Even though your cheeks burned in embarrassment, he just couldn’t help but find it cute.
“Go.. change clothes.. I can.. start down here..”
You’d simply just nod, scampering off to go do as such. And, once you had, you’d return—.. only to learn Wally wasn’t very good with flour, either. You walked in to him on his knees, gently brushing puffs of it into a dustpan— which.. wasn’t very effective, as it only fluffed up into the air. But he looked so focused, eyes squinted a bit as he kept trying. You couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out of you, causing him to slowly look up and tilt his head.
“.. What’s funny?”
“You are!” You spoke softly, laughing even softer as a hand lifted to cover your mouth. “That.. that isn’t- how you clean flour.. at least not that much..”
“Oh!”
With that, he’d fall silent, seeming to look down at the flour.. intently. In the next moment, just as you blinked, you saw a whole tuft of the flour disappear— followed by.. a scrunched up expression on Wally’s face.
Did he..?-
“Don’t— don’t eat it??” You laughed again, softly, soon beginning to shuffle up beside him. He just smiled at you, despite still having that scrunched up expression— the expression of a man with a mouthful (or.. eyeful..?) of flour. “Here, just..”
From there, you gently took the dustpan and took care of cleaning up the rest— not trying to chip away at it like a flour avalanche, unlike someone. Wally, meanwhile, simply was crouched beside you, watching your movements with cat-like eyes. To him, you were just nice to watch. He liked how your hands moved— and he also really liked your hands, too.. Maybe that was just the artist in him— you had lovely hands, hands he’d love to draw! And hold!.. But, to be fair, he did also just like you. His gaze gradually shifted from your hands to just.. your face, just admiring you. You felt like you shrank under his gaze— cheeks growing hot, again. It wasn’t uncommon for him to stare, but by goodness— did you suddenly feel on display whenever you did. Not that you minded, especially from him..
Soon, with all the flour cleaned, you’d put away the cleaning supplies as Wally, instead, shuffled up to your counter. He had to cling to the edge of it to look at it, but that’s fine.
“What.. were you.. making?”
He stared at the scattered ingredients, trying to crank his brain together. Chocolate chips, flour,.. he thought he had seen Poppy use those before.. but what for?.. Ahh, baking was not his strong suite..
“Oh— uhm, cookies!” As you spoke, you’d huff a nervous laugh, soon slipping up beside him by the counter.
“Can I help?”
“.. Depends..—“ Rolling your eyes playfully, your hands would slip away from one another— having been fidgeting— to instead be placed on Wally’s shoulders. Your touch was light, hesitant, but he idly curled into it. “—Are- are you- going to keep eating the chocolate chips? Because that isn’t help..”
Watching as his eyes widened, he’d slowly crane his head up to look at you— eyes blown wide.
.. he was puppy dog eyeing you.
“Perhaps..”
You gave a soft laugh at his response, and he smiled. He liked making you laugh. It was a very pleasant sound, one he’d gladly ramble about to anyone who’d listen.
“Okay, well, don’t— please..” Humming softly, not angry, you’d sloooowly push the bowl of chocolate chips out of his sight. Not before he blinked and ate one last extra one. For this, you shot him a playful glare.
"What? I did.. nothing.." "Mm, sure.."
Smiling, you soon began to grab the flour again— far more wary this time. Wally simply kept you company, smiling to himself as he.. watched (you).
What a pleasant visit. ♡
SLAMS DOWN THIS PILE OF DOMESTIC BLISS. EAT UP.
I found it a bit hard to fully incorporate the reader being shy beyond just mannerisms with a pre-established relationship, apologies!! I hope it was satisfactory either way, though :]
God I love fluff ggnrrrnrenregg……….
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Hi! I don’t know if you’re still taking C+C asks!! Feel free to ignore this if you’re not!! I was wondering if we could get a fluffy sneak peak of the wedding fic if that’s okay :)
Just a little one, anons, but here you go!
-
“Y’know, we could,” Rio drawls, his voice low and easy as Beth undoes the clip on her necklace, pulling the chain off and dropping it into the open drawer of her jewelry box.
“Could what?”
In her head, she’s thinking about tomorrow. About dropping the kids at Judith’s and picking Annie up from her Cog Test for her EMT course (god, she can’t believe her sister’s almost finished it), about the books she has to check before Mick comes round to the office to pick up the drop and the cookies she promised to make for Emma’s ballet class post-recital party on Friday. The usual chaos, she thinks, stepping with one foot on the sock of the other to pull it off as her fingers start on the buttons of her blouse.
“Get married.”
Her ankle rolls. Twists suddenly sideways in her sock as she loses her balance, and her hand flies up to grip the edge of the dresser. She takes a breath, tries to still her suddenly fast beating heart.
“Ha ha,” she says, glancing back at him, catching a glimpse of him sprawled in their bed. She keeps her tone light, airy, over the thrum of the central heating. “Very funny.”
“You think I’m kiddin’?” he asks her, and Beth looks back properly now, her feet flat on the ground again, her eyes a little wide, surprised when Rio suddenly sits up properly in bed, rolls his shoulders back. He wets his lips. “You think I ain’t thought about it?”
“I - - ” she flails out a hand. “I don’t know.”
She sees it – the very second his expression closes, and her heart slows, but not in a pleasant way. Like it’s been pulled back somehow, like she has. She’s gotten better at reading his looks, and he knows it, so this shut off is a shut out, he doesn’t want her to know what he’s feeling, thinking, so she glances at the floor instead. Sees her sock half off, and steps on it again, pulling it off properly, her bare toes curling instantly in the carpet, and no, okay. She knew he thought about it. Knew he was comfortable enough with the prospect to joke about it, for his sisters to coo, even for Ruby to raise an eyebrow when he’d asked, out of the blue at Harry’s birthday party, about Stan and Ruby’s wedding.
Her gaze flicks back at him, and he’s not looking at her now, rather he’s staring at the floor too, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, up over the base of his skull, like he’s chewing over his next words, and then he says:
“Yeah so, I kinda thought you figured that’s where we were headin’ too, darlin’.”
Had she?
Her thumb finds the wood grain of the dresser, presses in, her stomach feels full, her chest, like something’s stretching inside of her, pushing out, and she hadn’t thought about it, only because she hadn’t let herself, just like she hadn’t thought about moving in with him, sharing a room with him, sharing their families, sharing their lives. She hadn’t thought about any of it really, she’d just plowed forwards, taking everything she’d been given and feeling something close to holy in it, because Beth had been raised on have not’s not on have’s, and she’s still getting used to feeling full instead of starving, feeling this sated, this whole. Is still counting down the days until the fire in her chest she feels when she’s with him is snuffed out, until it’s doused, is so fixed on holding onto the now, on keeping him here, with her in the present, how can she think about keeping him forever?
Beth’s still learning how to let herself want things.
So how could she possibly have let herself want that?
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