Pairing: Bruce Banner x
Reader, Clint Barton x Reader Word Count: 5.6k+ Warning: Language, hella
smut, fluff, mild bit of angst. (I can’t
help it okay)
jealousy finally gets the best of him; he’s always kept himself walled off from
you to keep you safe. Best friends: nothing more, nothing less. When this new
guy starts aiming to sweep you off your feet, Bruce is forced to take action.
Can you choose between them? Do you want to?
A/N: I saw a post
that said there needs to be more Bruce x reader fics and I felt that was a
divine call out. I also need a break from writing three requests at once (I
wanna post a bunch at once so you’re waiting less). Anteeywaaaaay: enjoy :D This
absolutely got away from me and I’m not even sorry.
Inspiration: “Woman” ~ Harry Styles
selfish, I know But
I don’t ever want to see you with him. … I
hope you can see, the shape that I’m in While
he’s touching your skin He’s
right where I should, where I should be But
you’re making me bleed…”
- Jefferson comes home to a special tea party - Based off this
Jefferson sighed heavily as he finally saw his cottage up ahead, basket swaying slightly with his step. The mushrooms almost overflowed the wicker basket, a bouquet laid carefully on top. The wild flowers were carefully selected from the field he grew magically for you and he couldn’t wait to see how you’d blush when you saw them, a soft dusting of pink not dissimilar to the little pink flowers he picked. Smiling gently to himself he walked down the path to the cottage.
“Knock, knock” he teased, opening the door. The warmth enveloped him straight away and he inhaled the smell of chestnuts roasting over the fireplace.
“Papa!” Grace’s excited voice sounded giving Jefferson just enough warning to sit the basket by the door before she ran and wrapped her arms around him tightly. He chuckled before swinging her excitedly in a circle. Putting her down, you laughed at your husband and step daughter before kissing Jefferson’s cold cheek. He bent down picking up the bouquet and presented them to you. With a quiet giggle, you blushed at his actions as predicted.
“Thank you darling, they’re beautiful” you whispered, smelling the fresh flowers.
“Still not as beautiful as you” he flirted, kissing you gently.
You giggled, walking away to find a vase.
“Tell me there’s tea” Jefferson whispered conspiratorially in Grace’s direction, taking his coat off. She giggled and nodded excited before pointing to the neatly set tea party. Taking Grace’s out stretched hand he followed her to the little family table. He pulled her chair out and she sat, already pouring herself imaginary tea. Jefferson grabbed the still warm teapot you had set out and poured you a cup first before pouring his own. Putting the vase down in the middle of the table you sat next to Jefferson a smile on your face.
Jefferson quirked his head and jutted his chin towards the empty seat across from him, “who’s joining us? Mr. Rabbit or perhaps Mr. Tortoise?” he asked taking a sip of his tea.
You and Grace both supressed a giggle before you shook your head, “not exactly” you said and nodded towards Grace.
She brought a hand sown jacket out from under the table and Jefferson gazed at it. It was a small jacket, pink flowers adorning the bottom and sleeves of the soft material. “I don’t think it’ll fit-” Jefferson trailed off as the pieces fit together. His head spun to you, tears starting in your eyes. “I’m going to be a papa again?” he whispered, cradling your face in his hands. You had been feeling ill of late and Jefferson had assumed it was a winter cold. You nodded, a watery smile on your face. He smiled back before pulling you in for a tender kiss. Grace laughs softly, pulling Jefferson’s attention away.
“Oh my sweet Grace , we’re going to have to go get another Mr. Rabbit aren’t we?” he asks, sweeping her up in his arms for a trip to the market.
A/N: So I still have writer’s block with my Sam series (Shelter from the Storm - you should check it out #shamelessplug), but I’m a sucker for some Dad!Dean and fluff so here we are. If this has been done before, my sincerest apologies. This was cute and fun to write so I don’t care. Stuff in italics are memories.
“Okay, Grace,” Y/N’s sweet voice called out as she returned to the bathroom with a towel. “Tub time is over – time to get out.”
“Okay, Mommy,” the little girl said. “I unplug the plug.” She looked to her mother with a confident smile because she knew that only big girls were able to unplug the drain stopper.
“That’s my big girl!” Dean proclaimed as he rounded the corner and joined his little family in the bathroom. “Now who’s ready for bed?” he clapped and rubbed his hands together.
“Can I have a story, Daddy?” Grace begged as she wrapped herself in her favorite unicorn towel.
“Of course you can have a story. You think I wouldn’t let my best girl have a story?” He feigned shock and turned to Y/N to see her playing along.
Grace giggled at her father’s funny face and cheered for story time. She ran to her room to get changed into her pajamas. Dean wrapped Y/N into his arms and gave her a loving kiss.
“I’ll let you two have story time. I’ll clean the kitchen.” Y/N patted Dean on the chest and walked down the hall. Dean sighed and admired the view for a moment before turning to head to his daughter’s room.
I’m on a fluff roll! I need to get back in to angsty head space to finish one of my WIPs but for now, here’s another instalment of the Chris Evans and Model!You, based on a request from @msgem. Hope you enjoy!
It was bedtime in the Evans household and that meant story time. With four kids aged seven and under, finding a story that suited the full range of sons and daughters was a struggle, as was the timing.
Story time needed to be early enough for two (almost three, Chris reminded himself) year old Connor and this caused some not-very-well-hidden disdain on the part of seven year old Mason, who was the oldest and beginning to think that meant he was entitled to certain privileges beyond having a bed time half an hour later than his two younger sisters: Grace, five and Freya, three.
‘Dad, I’m too old for story time now. I’m seven! And it’s way too early for me anyway, my bed time is way later now!’ Mason’s dramatic stance was almost laughable as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom, feet apart, arms crossed defiantly across his chest. He was so like you it wasn’t even funny.
You had Connor curled up on your lap, your legs covered by the bed sheets. Your two baby girls were snuggled in next to you, awaiting their story. Chris was in the playroom and nursery next door, selecting this evening’s book but clearly also listening to Mason’s argument about story time.
You were about to intervene when you heard Chris’ calm voice drift into the hall.
’D'ya know what buddy? You’re totally right. You are way too old for story time now so you better just go ahead to your room, tuck yourself in and we’ll see you tomorrow. I think that’s what all grown up seven year olds do, isn’t that right, Mom?’
He addressed the last question to you as he appeared next to Mason in the doorway, two books in hand. You played along, realising Chris’ attempt at reverse psychology.
‘Your dad’s right Mase, you’re just too grown up for us now. So goodnight sweetheart, see you in the morning.’
Chris placed a hand gently on his shoulder, ‘I know your bedtime isn’t for another hour yet but if you can’t come to story time anymore, you better just go sit in your room until it’s half past seven.’
Mason was clearly at a loss, not expecting this sudden turn of events, as he glanced between the two of you before sloping off in the direction of his room. You and Chris shared a knowing smile as Chris approached the bed.
‘Right then, for those of us that aren’t too old for story time, our choices tonight are The Gruffalo or Room on the Broom!’
Gracie immediately shouted, ‘Room on the Broom!’
‘The Gruffalo, The Gruffalo!’ Freya insisted.
‘Oh dear, it seems we have a stale mate. Does our youngest audience member have a preference?’ Chris directed his gaze over to you and the toddler curled up against your chest.
‘I think Connor’s too tired out to mind hugely,’ you offered.
‘I’ve got an idea, Daddy,’ Grace spoke out, voice slightly muffled by the sheets tucked around her mouth.
‘Go on then baby girl, hit me with it,’ Chris stood with his arms outstretched, waiting for her reply. He was always so animated and such a showman with the kids, and they loved him for it.
‘Tell us the story of how you and Mommy met!’
Upon hearing this, Freya made her agreement known, chanting away until Grace joined in with her.
‘Oh, you’ve heard this story hundreds of times!’
'But it’s our favourite. Please Dad, please?
Chris looked at you with his eyebrows raised in question, 'You happy to hear this story one more time?’
'Of course,’ you smiled back. The version Chris told was a little embellished here and there to up the entertainment factor for the kids but you still liked listening to it, to the way he told it.
'Oh, it’s a shame Mason isn’t here,’ Chris spoke deliberately loudly so that his voice would carry across the hall, 'Because I know he loves the story of how Mom and Dad met.’
Knowing the seed had been planted, he got into the bed you shared at the opposite side, sandwiching the girls between you.
'Okay kids, this is the story of how your mother and I met for the very first time,’ Chris began. Grace tucked herself into his side, one hundred percent the daddy’s girl and the complete mirror image of him. If Mason was all you, Grace was entirely Chris. 'And it’s a story with a very happy ending because obviously it led to all of you-’
Just then a shadow appeared at the door as a small creak of a floorboard was heard in the hall. Mason. You seized the opportunity as you held your younger son to you.
'Mason, honey, you don’t need to stand out there. Come in and join us. You can help tell the story. You’ve obviously heard it the most, being the oldest.’
A small head appeared from around the doorway, 'Only because it’s this story though. I’m too old for Room on the Broom.’
You bit back a chuckle and one look at Chris’ tense jaw told you he was having to do the same. He shifted towards you on the bed, creating a space at the side of him on the mattress.
'Here you go dude, there’s room for you here,’ Chris told him, patting the space. Mason sloped over, contrite, and hopped under the covers, not pushing Chris’ arm away when he tucked it around him.
'So, where was I?’
Grace was the first to remind him, 'It has a happy ending!’
'Ah yes, we know the ending, because this is the ending, all of us right here.’
'It didn’t start as well though, did it Dad?’ Mason spoke out from Chris’ right hand side, desperate to be involved after almost losing out on story time altogether.
'Nope, it certainly did not. And why was that Mason?’
'Because mom hated dad when they first met!’ Your eldest began giggling uncontrollably, which set off Gracie and Freya as well.
Chris looked over at you, grinning, clearly remembering those early days over a decade ago now. Back then, you hadn’t even been sure if it was possible to love this deeply at all, having never had experience of it. But that all changed as Chris slowly but surely began to win you over.
'She did, unfortunately,’ Chris continued in a stage whisper, 'Mainly because she’d already decided what I must be like without even getting to know me first.’
'Hey!’ You protested, using your free hand to stroke Freya’s wavy hair back from her face as she lay sleepily against the pillow, 'In my defence, you were a super annoying boy.’
'All boys are annoying, aren’t they mom?’ Gracie said from Chris’ side.
'That’s my girl,’ Chris agreed, proudly, 'Boys are annoying and you can just keep thinking that until you’re at least thirty. But I was actually thirty five at the time, so, technically, not a boy.’
'Sorry, let me be more specific. A thirty five year old man child,’ you quipped back.
'Okay, okay, let’s just say that I had some trouble growing up, unlike Mason here,’ Chris poked his son gently in the ribs, making him giggle at the tickle.
'So what did you do to annoy Mom, Dad?’ Mason was impatient to get back on track.
So Chris told, again, the story of how you met at a big work party in LA, and he thought instantly that you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He saw you from across the room and it was like time stopped, he no longer saw anyone else, just you (you rolled your eyes with a smile at that, remembering how drunk he had been that night). Chris continued to describe how nervous he had been to approach you and how he’d hovered around as you chatted and laughed with other people and waited for a chance to introduce himself. He had taken note of what you were drinking so he could order you the same (an orange soda in this kids version, obviously, a Tequila Sunrise in the real version) and when he finally managed to cut in, he tripped over someone’s foot in the crowd and split the orange soda (Tequila Sunrise) all down your blush pink red carpet dress.
The kids all gasped at this, even though they knew it by heart.
'Oh Dad, how embarrassing,’ Mason piped up, sounding much older than this seven years.
'I know dude, I wasn’t always as dashing and charming as I am now. Luckily, you don’t seem to have inherited my meatball characteristics.’
'Nah, I’m pretty cool,’ Mason grinned cheekily.
'Yeah, yeah, careful that head doesn’t get too big to get out the door,’ Chris warned him in his good natured way.
'Next Daddy, next!’ Freya demanded.
'Okay sweetheart, what happened next? Let me think… so there was your mom with orange soda all down her dress and there was me wanting the ground to just open up and swallow me whole and she just looked at me, in shock at first, and I was paralysed with embarrassment. And eventually, she just snapped, 'Nice to meet you too!’ And then she disappeared into the crowd towards the bathrooms and I never saw her again,’ he finished with a grin, knowing what would come next.
'Daaaaaaddddd, that’s such a lie! How could we all be here now if you never saw her again?’ Grace giggled.
'Oh, of course, I was forgetting the most important part…’
And he continued to say how, months later, you had met by chance at a Patriots game (Chris and all the kids cheered) and Chris had been surprised to see you, both in the stadium and in Boston in general. But he knew it was a sign. And even though you were there with another guy (the kids all joined in a chorus of 'Booooooooo!’ at this, turning the story into a real pantomime), he just knew that this was his chance to make you see that he was actually fairly decent. It turned out that the other guy was just your friend’s older brother and that you weren’t seeing anyone.
'So I swept her off her feet!’ Chris finished triumphantly and you scoffed loudly.
'Well no, but I did get her and her friends some better seats near me and Uncle Scott and bought her a hot dog and fries at halftime.’
'And did you forgive him, Mom?’ Mason asked, peering over Chris’ chest.
'I did, just about. The Pats lost that day and he was so sad, I took pity on him, so when he asked how long I was in Boston for and would I like to go to dinner the next night, I couldn’t say no.’
'That’s right kids, you’re all sat here right now because your mom agreed to go on a pity date with me.’
'What’s a pity?’ Freya asked quietly.
'It’s when you feel so bad for someone, you do something nice for them even though you really don’t want to,’ Chris explained, patiently.
Freya’s eyes went wide, 'Mom, you didn’t want to be boyfriends and girlfriends with dad??’
'It wasn’t too much longer after that I did sweetheart, don’t worry. The night after, your dad came and picked me up, brought me some flowers, and took me to a really, really fancy restaurant. He was wearing a gorgeous suit that made him look really handsome and he’d booked a whole room just for us.’
'I was trying to impress her,’ Chris continued, 'But when we got the menus, neither of us seemed to be able to decide on what we wanted and when I was looking at your mom, she actually scrunched her nose up at something, like it was really horrible, and I knew then I’d made a mistake.’
Chris had looked at you across the table and decided to go with a joke, 'Man, I can’t seem to find the burger section anywhere.’
You remembered feeling so relieved. Everything on the menu sounded ridiculous, some of it downright disgusting, and the prices! As unsure as you were about Chris, you were fairly certain he was going to foot the bill of this little outing and you didn’t want him spending all that for you to push your food around your plate and get hammered on expensive wine because you had nothing in your stomach.
You had laughed nervously, not wanting to put a dampener on something he’d obviously gone to some effort to pull off, but he’d leant forward and whispered to you across the table, 'Come on, let’s go. I know a place.’
You had grabbed your clutch bag while he threw some bills on the table to cover the wine and the inconvenience and placed your hand in his when he offered it to you. Exhilarated, you dashed through the restaurant as the maitre d’ was showing a couple to a table and ran to the end of the block, pausing around the corner to catch your breath and laugh.
He’d laughed even more when he looked at you and saw that you’d plucked the bottle of wine from the ice bucket on the way out.
'What?! It was expensive! I wasn’t going to just leave it sitting there!’
'I think… I think you might actually be perfect.’
'So then we took our expensive lemonade and went to the best burger place in the city.’
'And your dad knew the owner of the restaurant and the building so he let us sit up on his roof and we did, on a blanket in our best clothes, eating our burgers and drinking lemonade out of two paper cups.’
'We could see all the lights of Boston and it was beautiful but still not as breathtaking as your mom.’
You looked at each other in affectionate silence for a moment, now with years of love between you but remembering that night when he’d kissed you gently, reverently on a blanket on a roof under the night sky of Boston, before glancing down and seeing that every single one of your four children were fast asleep.
Chris indicated towards them with his head and you nodded in silent agreement, no words needed for your communication. Chris scooped Mason up to take him to his room while you carefully shimmied off the mattress with Connor, carrying him to the nursery and laying him down gently. You checked the monitor was on and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, running a feather light finger down his warm cheek. Your baby boy was going to be three soon and barely even a baby anymore.
Back in the bedroom, Chris was gingerly picking up Grace and you reached for Freya. You tiptoed in silent convoy to the room they shared and lay them in their respective beds, switching on their glowing night light and taking turns to kiss them goodnight and tuck them in. Chris headed to the nursery to wish his youngest sweet dreams and you went to Mason’s room.
Leaning over, you brushed his mop of hair back from his forehead and kissed him on the exposed skin. He stirred slightly and his eyes flickered.
'Shh baby, it’s only me saying goodnight. Go back to sleep.’
He reached his arms up to wrap around your neck and spoke in a muffled, sleep-ridden voice.
'I’m really glad you gave dad a chance.’
You chuckled quietly, 'Me too, sweetheart. He’s a pretty good dad, isn’t he?’
'Yeah, and you’re the best mom. Love you.’
With that, his arms dropped to the bed and he fell into slumber.
'Love you too, my baby boy,’ you whispered, feeling your eyes well with… you weren’t sure what exactly. A combination of love, nostalgia, sadness that time was passing so quickly but also hope for a wonderful future.
With one last press of your lips to his forehead, you arose and softly stepped out of the room, leaving the door ajar the way he liked. Chris was leaning against the bannister of the stairs, greeting you with his lop sided smile but it quickly fell when he saw your watery eyes.
'Hey baby, what’s wrong?’ Concern dropped from his voice and he stepped towards you to gather you into his arms.
'Oh, I don’t know,’ you huffed against his chest, 'they’re just growing up so fast but they’re so great.’
You felt his chest rumble with a soft chuckle, 'I know sweetheart, we really did okay, didn’t we?’
'More than okay. I’m just being silly. Something about story time got me all emotional.’
You pulled back to swipe at your eyes but Chris was there already, brushing away the few tears that had escaped with gentle thumbs as you continued:
'Do you think it will always be like this? I just… sometimes I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.’
'Well, we’ve had our fair share of ups and downs but we’ve managed so far. Don’t forget we’ve got to get four kids through their teenage years yet and if Mason now is anything to go by, we’re in for a hell of a ride.’
You barked out laugh through your subsiding sniffles, 'God help us.’
'There doesn’t always have to be a shoe, you know. Or a catch. We just… are who we are,’ Chris shrugged with a smile.
You smiled back, giving his face a good once over with your gaze, savouring the moment. Feeling that familiar gathering of heat low in your belly, you placed your hands on his shoulders, still strong and hard under your touch even though he was well into his forties now, and leant forwards to speak lowly in his ear.
'And could who we are right now be a husband carrying his wife to their bed to make slow, delicious love all night?’ You pulled back so he could see your face and then shrugged nonchalantly, 'Or at least for an hour, because you know, kids and sleep.’
You were so close you could see his pupils dilate as he spoke in rough voice, 'I think that can probably be arranged.’
And with that, he threw you over his shoulder, swatted you lightly on the ass as you tried to swallow down your surprised giggle, and carried you to your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot.
“One.. two… four.. seven, ten! Ready o’ not, here I come” you hear as you walk down the stairs into the front room. Your daughter zooms past you almost running you over.
“Gracie, slow down my love. Where ya going in such a hurry?” giggling Grace puts her fingers on her lips “shhh mum, ’m looking for daddy. He is hiding and I’m lookin”
“Have you checked the back yard?”
“Good idea mummy” Grace runs out to the back to look for her dad.
Smiling to yourself as you walk into the kitchen. It was around 3 and you knew both Harry and Grace would be hungry for something soon. Apples and peanut butter were a favorite in the Styles household. Reaching into the fridge you pull out 3 apples and walk over to the sink to wash the apples. You can see your little Gracie, through your window, looking everywhere for her silly dad. Under rocks, around trees, in her play house, but she wasn’t finding him. You walk over to the pantry to get out the peanut butter.
“AHH!” Jumping high into the air and screaming you can see Harry standing in the pantry with a massive grin on his face “did I scare ya sweetheart?” Giggling and showing off that dimpled grin you love so much.
“Harry” you put your hand over your beating heart “my goodness! You caught me by surprise!!”
“Sorry love, but that was funny!” Harry was still laughing when you got a smirk on your face and yelled “Gracie bug, I think I have an idea where your daddy might be hid…” Harry’s hand went right over your mouth “shhh, don’t help her. That’s cheatin’. Nobody likes cheaters”
Rolling your eyes you ask “Can I have the peanut butter please?” Harry hands you the peanut butter and you close Harry back into the pantry then walk back to the counter. It wasn’t 30 seconds later that your daughter comes running into the kitchen “Mum? I can’t find daddy. Can you help?” Grace had the biggest pout in her face. Giggling to yourself you shake your head yes and point towards the pantry door.
Grace’s eyes get big and she gets the biggest smile on her face, showing off that dimple that she got from her father. She slowly sneaks up to the pantry door and opens it with a grin “I got you” she giggles as Harry lifts her up high in the air and runs around the kitchen.
“Daddy put me down. It’s my turn to hide” she yells at the top of her sweet little lungs.
“Oh Is it? One more time, then it’s time for a snack okay?” He sets her down on the floor and gets on her eye level “ ’m gonna count to 10 then I’ll come find ya.” he bops her nose and starts counting “one… two… three..” You feel arms come around your waist and warm breath on your neck “four..” then a kiss to your jaw “five” he turns you around in his arms “six” kisses your nose “seven” and your lips. Harry stops counting as he seems to be loosing track of the fact he is playing a game with his daughter.
“Hmm?” Harry hums as he kisses you again.
“Oh.. eight, nine, TEN!! Ready or not here I come”
Just like that, he ran off to finish his game of Hide-and-seek with his favorite little girl in the world.
So I found out that there were not many Khal Drogo x Reader fics so i decided to write my own. There will be two parts :D This is for @book-boys-are-my-guilty-pleasure for goodluck with her exams and just because we both love him XD
Warnings : Long
It was nerve-wrecking to wait for the Dothraki. Daenerys was being sold off as a bride to the Dothraki, if they were statisfied with how she looked. “How long is it going to take untill those savages are here.” Viserys hissed out annoyed. You couldn’t quite understand why he had done such a thing to wed her off for a army but you couldn’t change his mind. “They will be here soon mi’lord.” You answered to him. Your eyes still on Daenerys. The sound of horses coming closer was the thing that made you really awake, that this wasn’t just a dream of sorts.
Adrenaline rushes through your body, your mind worrying about your misstres. She was visibly nervous and scared but had no chance. This all seemed like it was when you were sold to the Targaryen house.
The leader of the savages was the one who had the longest hair and looked at Daenerys, inspecting how she looked and opened his mouth. “Vos” He growled out. His eyes were making eye contact with Viserys before he looked at you. The heart in your chest beating faster than before. “Shafka” The air hitched in your neck as you reconized the word. ‘You.’ Viserys turned around and looked at you with disgrace but smirked. “Seems he wants you, so go with him.” He said annoyed.
Okay but imagine that Martin Freeman’s daughter has seen the first two hobbit films, and she’s on the botfa set with him, and she sees Richard in his Thorin costume, and she points at him and looks up at Martin and says, “daddy, is that your boyfriend?” and Martin turns really red and he’s like “boyfr–? What? No!” and Richard looks at him from the other side of the set and smiles and waves at Martin, who blushes harder when Grace starts giggling
“Did you know that the world consumes 1.6 billion cups -”
“That’s great kid, but I’m in a bit of a hurry, can you
move it along please?”
“-of coffee daily.” Namjoon trailed off quietly to
himself and instead carried on with the customer’s order, shoulders slightly
hunched at the unnecessary rudeness from the man before him.
Honestly, he was just trying to be different and give
people facts about the coffee they drink on a daily basis. I mean, after
working at Starbucks for quite a while you start picking up facts here and
there and also – being incurably knowledge hungry – he may or may not have
looked up some himself, but if anyone asked him he’d deny it because why would
he spend 2 hours reading books about the history of coffee on a Friday night
when he could be out gallivanting – people still used that word right? – with
But, shrugging off the rushed vibes from the man now speeding
walking out the door, coffee in hand and not even a thanks as a tip, he turned
to face the next – and last – customer in line and felt all the blood in his
body rush to his cheeks.
“Hi, uh welcome to Starbucks, what can I get you?”
Namjoon managed to get out, clearing his throat at the end.
“Hi, I’m not really sure what I’d like today. Anything
you would recommend?”
“The uh Chai Latte is quite good, but if you’re not in
the mood for that the uh Hazelnut Frappuccino is good too, although it’s cold
out so maybe something warmer?” He stumbled over his words, cheeks still
“The Chai Latte sounds great actually, I’ll have that
please.” A pause, “Oh and what was that I heard you saying to the guy before
Namjoon keyed in the order before he snapped his head up
at the question, promptly knocking over the pen holder.
“Oh shi-oot,” Managing to stop himself from swearing in
front of a customer, he bashfully looked down at the counter at yet another
accident he managed to cause, when a throat cleared and his attention drawn was
back to the person before him.
“I’m so sorry, you must have thought I was done when I
paused and I ended up startling you. Here, let me help.”
Then another – softer, more feminine – hand was reaching
forward to help Namjoon pick up the scattered pens, some managing to fall on
the floor of customer’s side of the counter, and when the fingers of those
hands brushed against his while returning one of the pens, he almost knocked it
“Thank you,” Namjoon smiled sheepishly, gesturing to the
now non-existent mess, “you really didn’t have to help. And uh, you didn’t
startle me. Well you did, but uh not in the way you’re probably thinking? More
in the way that no one has really ever voluntarily wanted to hear the random
facts about coffee that I know.” Cue awkward laugh and another tentative smile.
“It’s no problem, really. Even though I didn’t startle
you in the way I guessed,” more blushing but surprisingly not from Namjoon, “I
still kind of added to the accident. But I do find that hard to believe. Why would
no one want to know about the substance they are putting into their body on a
fairly regular, if not, daily basis?” Namjoon thinks he’s in love… okay well
maybe not love love, but as in-like
as you can be with someone you have just met and have probably only spoken
about 200 or so words to each other.
“My thoughts exactly!” Namjoon almost shouts excitedly –
he reigns it in though because he’s cool, he can keep his cool – and starts to
make the Chai Latte, focusing on not burning his hand again this week.
“Well seeing as I actually am interested in what I’m
drinking, care to share another of those facts you have stored in your brain?”
Now, he’s nearly 100 percent certain that flirting was
occurring and it may have been a while since he’d last done it, but he’d be
damned if he messed up like last time and give Jimin another thing to tease him about.
“Did you know,” Good start, strong delivery, “that it
takes 100 cups,” oh no, “to make 1 bean of coffee.” And he messed up, again.
Namjoon feels his cheeks heating up again and is about to
start praying for the ground to open up and swallow him, when he hears a
giggle. It’s not that loud and it sounds like the person is trying to stifle it
(God bless them for trying), so he takes a deep breath and doesn’t look up
while he tries again.
“What I meant to say was, did you know that it takes 100
beans to make 1 cup of coffee.” He managed to get it right this time and looks
up to see a smile so pretty and so bright, it could rival Jimin’s or
“I didn’t actually know that, but wow, 100 beans? Really?
I guess you learn something new every day.” Another smile (no Namjoon’s heart
is not beating faster).
“Can I get your name, for your order I mean.” His bashful
smile is back and as he poises the pen above the cup, he is graced with another
That may or may not be Namjoon’s new favourite name.
2 weeks later, Namjoon is on his break sitting at one of
the tables near the back with his nose buried in yet another book.
Luckily it’s not another book about the history of coffee
(he only made that mistake once and Hoseok and Yoongi still tease him about it whenever they see him with a book which
is, a lot of the time) but he’s gotten to the point of reading where he is so
focused and zoned out that he’s not really aware of his surroundings anymore so
that when he hears a voice, he almost has a heart attack.
“Holy crap, you can’t just sneak up on a person reading!
Don’t you know it’s dangerous, like waking up someone whose sleep walking.”
Namjoon mutters, one hand over his eyes and the other over his heart that was
still beating rapidly.
“Sorry, I keep seeming to startle you every time I’m
here.” A laugh, “Do you always read while you’re on your break?”
“I’m pretty sure the last 10 books I’ve read have all
been here. I don’t even know if I’m literate at home anymore.” Namjoon jokes
lightly, but does a double take when he looks up briefly and realises it’s you,
knocking over his thankfully empty coffee mug.
“I feel like I need to buy you a protective bubble or
something.” You laugh as you gesture at the mug he’d just knocked over and
Namjoon can feel his cheeks heat up (which seems to be their constant setting
“You’re not the first to say that,” He laughs, “but the
guys all say I’ll probably pop it while trying to get into it so that idea was
a no go.”
You laugh along with Namjoon and when he motions for you
to sit opposite him you don’t hesitate, smiling sweetly before crossing your arms
and leaning forward on the table as if waiting for him to tell an exciting
“So, what’s my fact for today?” You’re grinning and
Namjoon smiles back bashfully, dimples on full display making your heart do
things that it usually didn’t do, like skip a beat.
“Did you know that the world record for the most coffee
consumption is 82 cups in 7 hours?” He’s practically grinning now and if you
weren’t sitting in front of him he’d fist pump because he actually got the fact
right saying it the first time.
“Wow, that’s a lot of coffee. Whoever did that probably
couldn’t sleep for ages!” You’re laughing again and Namjoon joins in, relishing
in the sound.
“I have another one for you.” He’s fighting the scarlet threatening to colour his cheeks, but he feels confident as you smile sweetly at
“Let’s hear it then.”
“Did you know that there’s a really good chance,” Really
good start, “that you’d have a nice dinner,” uhm, “if you went to time with
me?” Oh God no, not again.
Namjoon doesn’t stop his will to face palm this time and
groans into his hands as soon as the last word has left his mouth. He doesn’t
know what he’s done to deserve this, why he did so well finally with the fact
earlier and messed up now where he really wanted to be smooth, but he supposes
he’ll never know and instead hopes for the rejection – he’s no doubt about to
face – to be quick and painless.
You’re giggling softly now – like you usually do when he
mixes up his sentences – and reach over to gently poke one of his hands to get
his attention, which works after a few tries and he slowly lowers his hands
while looking down at the table between you, not wanting to meet your gaze.
“Did you know,” You start sweetly, the beginning of your
sentence grabbing his interest at the wording and making him look up shyly, “that
there’s a 100 percent chance that I’ll have a great time when I go to dinner with you because you know tons of facts about
coffee and because it’ll be with you.” You’re blushing now and Namjoon is
gaping at you, but that soon turns into a wide dimpled grin and he honestly
wants to thank his brain for storing all those facts (and forgives it for
messing up all those times while trying to tell you some of them) because he’s
sitting here with you now and he’s 99.9 100 percent sure that he has a
date with you, at some stage, he just has to choose a day now… crap.
Squeaky clean and smelling of raspberry vanilla soap, Grace was bundled up in a fluffy rose pink towel, being carried into her bedroom by her daddy.
“Know what I love?” Harry asks his little girl, who was beaming from ear to ear with the most beautiful smile he has ever seen.
“Uh mummy” Grace says as she looks Harry in the eye, waiting for his reply. “Yes, I do love mummy” Harry sets Gracie down on her bed with a little bit of a bounce “but I also love my baby burrito ‘cause she tastes so yummy!” Harry pretends to eat his little girl whose towel is wrapped around her like a warm tortilla. Grace giggles as she feels her father tickling her “daddy, m’ not food!” She was wiggling around on her bed.
“Could of fooled me” Harry stands and shrugs his shoulders as he walks towards her white dresser. Opening the top drawer Harry picks out a pair of pink and white polka dotted panties and a pink nightgown.
“Let’s get ya dressed Goose, then I’ll sing ya some songs. How does that sound?” Harry says, gently raising a questioning eyebrow at the 4 year old. Grace nods her head so her wet curls flip water all over the place. Harry chuckles to himself and helps her get dressed. After she was squeaky clean, teeth brushed and dressed for bed Harry picks the stuffed sheep off her chair and hands it to her.
“I think Bob has missed you” Harry says making a “baa” noise when he says Bob. Harry came up with the name, and always flashed his big dimpled grin when he said the sheep’s name, proud of his creativity. Besides Harry, Bob was Gracie’s best cuddle buddy. She loved him.
“Gracie missed Bob” Grace says looking into his black little eyes, petting the patch of fur on his head and kissing her favorite stuff animal. Snuggling into her covers, Grace looks at her father, who had knelt down next to her bed. “May I pick the song tonight daddy?"
"Mmhmm, what’s it gonna be” folding his arms down on her flower covered bedspread. “What about twinkle twinkle little..”
Interrupting her father she says with a stern tone “No no, don’t like that song. Sing, ’m havin your baby” Grace sings at the top of her lungs.
Harry bursts into laughter. “Ya want daddy to sing one of his songs?”
“I like babies, I like that song, it’s fun” Grace states with a smile, that dimple growing deeper by the minute.
“It’s not really a bedtime song love. What would your mum say?"
"Mum sings it in the car, she likes it” Grace says. “Mum says yes.” Harry couldn’t say no to her enthusiasm and decided it was just fine to sing an upbeat song for bedtime as long as they ended with a song that calmed her down. “Alright, one time. Then it’s time for your goodnight song. Okay?"
"Kay!!” Leaning in close to her daddy’s face Grace whispers “jump on the bed?” Her eyes shining bright when she wiggles her eyebrows with excitement.
“Just this once” Harry stands on his socked feet pulling his phone out of his back pocket. Turning Kiwi on so they can dance and sing. Harry jumps up on her bed to sing and dance, or more like jump, with his baby girl.
“I’m having your baby, it’s none of your business” singing at the top of their lungs both Harry and Grace were out of breath by the end of the song. After the song was over. Grace plopped down on the bed laying flat on her back. Giggling in her cute little laugh she says “that was fun!"
Harry laughs lifting Grace back up to her pillow Harry wraps his arms around her and kisses her forehead. "I love ya goose"
"Thank you, love ya too” Grace says with a yawn. “Bedtime song daddy?” “Ya, I’ll sing your bedtime song bug.” Harry hears someone walk into the room. “May I join?” You ask as you walk into this tender moment.
“Always” Harry smiles at you and wraps his arm around you when you kneel next to him.
“What was all that banging? Sounded like an elephant was dancing up here” Harry looks at Grace and they both burst into giggles. “Daddy sang havin’ your baby, mum. It was fun"
Looking over at Harry with wide eyes, you chuckle and give him a kiss. "Sounds like a fun time. ’M sorry I missed it."
"Alright bedtime song?” Harry clears his throat as he begins to sing the song to Grace that he has sang since the day she was born.
“Now run along home, and jump into bed. Say your prayers, don’t cover your head. There’s just one more thing, I ask of you! You dream of me, and I’ll dream of you"
Grace closes her eyes as she cuddles with Bob and Harry can see her breathing has relaxed. Harry smiles thinking of the fun memory they just made. He kisses her head, stands, grabbing your hand and leaves his little girl to dream of summertime and butterflies for the rest of the night.
Lots of Chris in this one, rather than ‘you’. Pure fluffy fluff. I have no shame and no excuses :)
Chris could hear the chaos before he’d even put the key in the door. It was a sound that he’d secretly come to love when thinking back on the days in this very house when it was just him and Dodger in quiet solitude. He couldn’t help but smile to himself though as he stepped through the doorway to discover what craziness his family we’re getting up to today.
‘Dad’s home!’ was screamed from somewhere in the house and two small bodies came barrelling down the hall in a blur, skidding on the wooden flooring as they tried to slow themselves down. Chris knelt down and braced himself for impact as they hurled themselves into his arms. He left loud, smacking kisses on their faces in greeting and they laughed at the tickling his beard caused.
‘Right, stand back, let me look at you,’ he held them at arm’s length and pretend to regard them sternly with one arched eyebrow and a pinched mouth.
‘Master Evans, you appear to be covered in flour, would you like to explain yourself?’ He requested in mock seriousness of his eldest son.
'Momma’s been baking with us,’ Mason answered back in excitement, giggling, 'Come and see Daddy, come and see.’
His son put one sticky hand around his fingers to pull him towards the kitchen. Chris stood up as he spoke to his second eldest.
'Is this true Gracie?’
A pair of big blue eyes (so much like his own, he thought) blinked back at him and she nodded happily.
'Shall we go and see then? Hop on and let’s go and see what you’ve made,’ he patted his leg and she instantly clung to it koala style. The three of them walked to the kitchen together, Chris relying on all his acting skills to drag his leg and complain about the heavy weight slowing him down.
In the kitchen he finally got to see his wife. You were just pulling your youngest out of the high chair having finished baking and leaving the results on the counter to cool. You were covered in baking ingredients and probably more than an acceptable amount of baby sick. Your hair was in a messy bun piled haphazardly on top of your head and you were wearing your yoga pants and a thin, slouchy v neck tshirt.
As Chris looked at you, you swiped some hair from your face as Freya tried to reach for the loose strands with a chubby fist, gurgling happily on your hip as you bounced her. You were a sight to behold, and still took his breath away, years later.
'Hey beautiful,’ Chris’ deep voice sounded from the other side of the room and you spun around to face him, smiling in greeting.
'Hey baby, I see you’ve found two rascals on your way in here,’ you nodded at your two eldest children now standing at Chris’ feet, holding each of his hands.
'I did indeed, they mentioned something about baking?’
At the word 'baking’, Mason cried out with urgency again, bouncing Chris’ arm.
'We made cupcakes Dad, chocolate ones!’
'No way, not chocolate ones! They’re my favourite! Let me have a look.’
You met Chris and your children by the cooling cakes on the counter and he pulled you to him for a hello kiss, careful not to bump Freya at your hip.
'Ewwwww! That’s so gross!’ Grace giggled as Mason pretended to throw up. You grinned against Chris’ mouth.
'She’s got a point babe, look at the state of me!’ you sighed, 'Remember when I used to be a model?!’
Chris spoke in a quiet voice, just for you, tightening his grip your baby free hip.
'You amaze me every single day and you are still the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.’
'Even covered in butter and baby sick?’
'Even then. Especially then,’ he kissed you again, quickly this time so as not to earn the distaste of Mason and Grace.
Freya reached out to him, clamping and opening her fists to get his attention and he quickly scooped her up and out of your arms, holding her around the middle securely and elevating her above his head before bringing her face to face with him.
'And how’s my little angel been today?’
'She’s been good. Napped earlier but been awake since then so hopefully we’ll have a decent night.’
'That’s what we like to hear. Now then, Mason, Gracie, you better show me what you’ve made.’
They pulled over their little steps with the rubber grips on so they could reach on to the counter and Mason began explaining the baked goods.
'We made enough for everyone! We’ve all got one each for after dinner.’
'Well, we might have to split Freya’s between us, she’s a bit young for chocolate cake yet. Can you count them for me, Mase?’
Mason began counting with Chris’ encouragement and you waited for the penny to drop with your husband.
'One… Two… Three… Four… Five… Six…. Six, Daddy, we made six!’
You could see Chris’ brow knit in confusion so you decided to stir things up a little more.
'And how many people have we got in our family Mason?’
He started counting on his fingers and eventually worked out there were five - two grown ups and two kids and a baby - and he beamed when you told him how clever he was with his numbers.
Chris still looked confused and kept glancing from the cakes back to you as Freya tried to stuff her hand in his mouth.
'Have a look at the toppers I made,’ and you slid the little flags you had taped to cocktail sticks ready to go in the tops of the cakes when they were ready.
He held them up one by one, reading Daddy, Mommy, Mason, Grace, Freya and then he paused at the last one, apparently speechless, before turning to you with it in his hand.
'You’re serious?’ He looked at you in disbelief.
'Dude, I’m as shocked as you are. Are we the most fertile couple on the planet or what?’ You laughed, letting your joy filter into your voice.
Chris laughed then, happiness spreading across his features as he read the flag once more: 'Baby Evans #4’.
'Oh my god, four kids. We’re going to be the parents of four actual kids,’ he spoke around his laughter, laying the topper on the counter again.
You placed a hand against his face and whispered, feeling the choking emotion that came with being a happy as you currently were, 'Four very lucky kids, to have you as a dad.’
He tilted his head down to rest his forehead against yours as he rested his free hand against your belly, 'We’re a team, sweetheart. There’s no way I could do this without you. You are, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to me.’
You pressed your lips to his, ignoring Freya’s pulls on your hair once again, before grinning, 'Oh I know, I just like to massage your ego from time to time.’
'Thanks babe. Love you too,’ Chris rolled his eyes at you in his good-natured way before indicating towards Mason and Gracie, 'I think this time we lead with the exciting news that they’ll get to go and stay with Grandmomma Lisa for a few days soon, rather than the news that there’s yet another brother or sister on the way.’
You nodded with certainty, remembering the sheer disappointment that unfolded when the news was broken before Freya’s arrival that the baby in Mommy’s tummy was, in fact, a person baby, and not a dog baby for Dodger to play with, 'Agreed, definitely. Good idea Evans, I knew there was a reason I married you.’
'Not my huge dick then, no?’
You gave him a light slap on his shoulder in exaggerated outrage. You were fairly certain Mason and Grace were too preoccupied choosing their icing and sprinkle combinations for their cupcakes to pay attention, but still, Mason was getting old enough to copy the things he heard now, especially where his dad was concerned.
'And because you’re such an amazing dad, you’ll be taking that particular parent-teacher conference when Mason’s been repeating your inappropriate language. Good luck teaming your way out of that one.’
Summary: Sometimes, Sebastian needs a moment to remember he’s got a normal life as well, and you’re there to remind him.
Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Reader
Word Count: 1510
Warnings: just fluff
A/N: Here we go, @ly–canthrope, at this rate, you’re gonna have to be my online best friend ;)
You paused in your cleaning to find the TV volume had turned
up, the interview echoing through the café. You looked to a co-worker who shot
you a small smile as Sebastian Stan grinned in the interview.
Of all the girls you expected him to fall for, you didn’t
expect him to fall for you, a waitress of all things too. You always smiled
fondly when you first met him, at Wizard Con. You quickly wiped down the
tables, clearing them for more customers.
summary: Lifelong orphan and wanderer Emma Swan moves to Storybrooke, Maine in search for a home. Content with a new job as deputy, she meets Killian Jones, director of an orphanage. It doesn’t take long for sparks to fly, but will Emma finally be able to settle down and find a home here?
“Belle, I don’t know if you’ve met Emma yet.”
Mary Margaret says as they approach the group gathered in the middle of the
Belle immediately smiles from ear-to-ear. She
extends a hand and Emma shakes it. “Hi, Emma, I’m Belle. I’m so glad you could
come to book club this month.”
Killian, watching the scene, becomes slightly
anxious. Emma makes his heart flutter in his chest and he realizes as his hands
clam up, that he hasn’t seen her since their last encounter on his ship about
four days ago.
It makes sense, considering her character, but he
missed her, and that’s something the
children have realized as well.
Request: [part 2]I LOVE the Shelbys Burden! But I was wondering too if you could do a second part where she gets into a relationship with Isaiah and she tells him she feels like a burden and he comforts her?
Turning eighteen was a huge milestone for you, mainly because you thought back to how your life was, and how it could have been if your biological father never dropped you off at Polly’s.
You smiled at all your family as they cheered after you had blown out all the candles of your birthday cake. You wished for your negative feelings about your place in the family to finally go away as you were an adult now. Aunt Polly began to cut the cake, giving the first slices to you and your nieces and nephews first.
You looked around at your family again, barely touching the cake in front of you. They were smiling, talking amongst each other. John and Esmè were as happy as ever while being occupied with another pregnancy. Tommy and Grace were giggling in the corner of the kitchen while Tommy bounced Charlie in his arms. Ada, Lizzie, Finn, and Michael sat around the table with you while talking about going out for the night or not. Arthur and Linda sat quietly, Linda whispering every so often into his ear and Arthur just nodding along.
Your family was happy, but you couldn’t comprehend why you weren’t too.
You weren’t sure why you kept bring youself down by thinking you didn’t belong, and that your family didn’t love you, you were sure they did.
“Y/N,” Finn laughed, calling your name for the second time. You turned your attention to your brother, smiling to mask your doubts.
“I asked if you wanted to go to the Garrison tonight?” Finn asked while chewing on his piece of cake.
“Or we can stay in,” Ada told you after noticing your hesitation. You smiled again and shrugged.
“The Garrison sounds fine.”
Your entire family went to the Garrison an hour later. A trusted friend was taking care of the children and as soon as you all entered the pub, everyone began to leave tables empty for you. Tommy ordered drinks while you spotted your boyfriend from across the pub. He made his way towards you with the biggest of smiles.
“Happy Birthday Y/N!” Isaiah yelled over the loud chatter of the crowded pub. You smiled and engulfed your boyfriend of a couple months in a hug. Your brothers and Polly watched with unimpressed eyes. When Isaiah had first asked you on a date, you decided it was best not to hide it from your family. They only really allowed you to date a Peaky Blinder because you were honest with them about the relationship and Isaiah was a trusted friend, more like a brother to the men in your family.
Michael sighed, cutting between you and Isaiah to separate your hug. You rolled your eyes, it was typical of Michael and Finn to constantly ruin a moment for you and Isaiah as they had felt the most weary about the relationship than the rest of the family and it was only because Finn and Michael were closest to Isaiah.
“Here then,” Michael handed you and Isaiah a glass of champagne. “To Y/N!” Michael yelled over he loud voices of the bar and raised his glass. You smiled as the rest of your family followed suit, including Isaiah.
After a round of everyone hugging you and drunkily kissing your cheeks, you were finally left alone with Isaiah in the private room. The door was open as to not alarm your family and you sat side by side. You were playing with Isaiah’s fingers that was placed on your lap, and you felt his stare on the side of your face.
“Stop staring, Isaiah.” You mumbled, feeling tipsy from the glasses of champagne that kept coming your way.
“Not until you tell me what’s bothering you.”
You looked over at Isaiah, your eyebrows pulling together. He always did know when you were in a mood and you thought it was a gift as no one else would be able to tell when you were down. Isaiah wasn’t nearly as drunk as you were, he was barely tipsy. He had only drank rum before you arrived, and to show your family he cared for you, he stopped drinking and substituted drinks for cigars.
“How do you always do that?” You turned your gaze back to your lap, your shoulders slacking.
“Because I know my girlfriend. Now, tell me what’s wrong.” Isaiah gripped onto your fiddling fingers, interwining your hands. You looked up at him, feeling your eyes sting with unshed tears and looked away again, muttering under your breath.
Isaiah squeezed your hand in his, releasing your hand and moving his arm to curl around your shoulders. “It’s not silly if you’re going to cry over it. Please tell me, Y/N. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”
You looked up again, feeling tears stream down your cheeks. You rolled your eyes and rubbed the tears away with the back of your hand.
“Y/N,” Isaiah pulled you closer to him. He had little experience with girlfriends, let alone comforting one, but as soon as he saw his girlfriend’s beautiful face become sad with tears: he knew exactly what to do.
Be there for you as best as he could.
“My biological mother visited me,” you cried. Isaiah pulled away from you slightly, eyes wide. “It wasn’t recent,” you told him. He nodded, beckoning you to continue. “It was three years ago, she said awful things to me and I,” you shook your head, placing your head on Isaiah’s shoulder, welcoming the warmth of the close proximity your bodies brought to each other. Isaiah rubbed you back, letting you know you were okay.
“I think the woman was right,” you finally choked out. Although Isaiah was still unsure of what you spoke about, he pulled you even closer as sobs escaped you. “I’m just a bastard child, a burden to my family, to Polly.”
Isaiah pulled away completely and you missed his body against yours. He faced his body towards you, placing his hands on either side of your waist so that you could look at him. Isaiah looked disappointed.
“Why the hell would you say that?” Isaiah’s voice rose slightly.
“Because,” you cried. “Aunt Polly has Michael now, her son. And to my brothers, I’m just Arthur Shelby’s bastard, born from a whore.” You placed your hands over your face, embarrasment riddling you. “They all have their own families now, I’m just here. Floating in the family like a stranger.”
“Y/N,” Isaiah cupped your face in his hands. “Don’t you dare say that. I’m sorry for what I’m about to say, but fuck your biological mother for being a swine and telling you things that aren’t true.”
You looked at Isaiah through your tears.
“Look,” he said. He twisted your face to look out of the open door to see your family laughing loudly and getting drunk off their asses. “What do you think they’re here for? They’re here to celebrate your birthday.”
You felt your shoulders relax and your tears stop. You suddenly felt foolish for crying over something a woman who wanted nothing to do with you in the first place said. You looked back out the door, and felt Isaiah kiss your cheek gently.
“You’re right where you belong, Y/N.”
You looked at Isaiah as he handed you his handkercheif. You wiped your tears away.
“You’re family loves you, all they ever have to say about you is good things.”
“Really?” Your smile widened. Isaiah nodded, a smile forming on his own face.
You leaned into your boyfriend, wrapping your arms around his neck and drunkily kissing his plump lips. He held onto your waist, kissing you back with as much passion. He leaned his forehead against yours, his heart beating rapidly against his chest as he thought of what he’s been wanting to tell you since you started dating.
“I love you, Y/N. You will never be a burden to me either.”
You gasped looking at your boyfriend with a blush and a big smile. “I love you.” You leaned in and kissed Isaiah once again. This kiss was far more intimate than any you have shared with him before, and you found youself ready to give him a piece of your heart. You were lucky to have caught the eye of Isaiah Jesus, but he felt like the lucky one too.
“Y/N!” Tommy interrupted your kiss and both you and Isaiah jumped away from each other. Tommy was too drunk to really process what was going on, but Grace smiled at you from over Tommy’s shoulder. “Come out here, your missing your party.”
You looked at Isaiah, giving him one last hug before you sprang to your feet and englufed your brother in a hug. His drink spilled slightly and he extended the cigar he was holding out of your way, hugging you back.
“I love you so much, Tommy.” You mumbled into his shoulder. He smiled, patting your head as he told you he loved you just the same. Grace smiled at Isaiah, wondering how you had gotten in such a better mood than a couple of hours ago. You then englufed Grace into a hug and told her how much you loved her too.
Soon, you had hugged everyone and told them how much they meant to you and that you loved them. They all just figured you were incredibly drunk and in a good mood because it was your birthday.
But you had actually come to the realization that you weren’t a burden, and were hardly a bastard child.
You were a Shelby, inside and out.
a/n; (Isaiah has been added if you want to request an imagine with him.)So I really liked the anon’s request and wrote this right away… I should probably start doing my requests in order! -e
is sitting in his studio when he hears the door creak open and little
feet running towards him. Putting down his pen, he looks up to see his
little girl, her blonde curls bouncing up and down as she makes her way
to one of her favorite people. Harry was struggling with a song, and
welcomed the unexpected surprise. “Hi my Gracie bug! Whatcha up to?”
Can you come to my room and play? Please??” Grace pleaded with a down
turned lip and well practiced puppy eyes. If there was one thing Grace
did well, it was giving her mum and daddy puppy eyes. Her blue eyes
would get nice and big, and look oh so sad to the point Harry would
immediately melt into a puddle and give her exactly what she wants.
can take a break for a little. Let’s go!” Harry closes his laptop,
leans over to grab Grace by the hips and lifts her up and over his
shoulder. "Has anyone seen my Gracie bug?? I can’t find her, but this
sack of potatoes is nice" Harry says loud as if he was talking to a room
full of people. Walking up the stairs and turning into his daughters
room he hears a giggle in his ear.
“Daddy” Grace giggles “’m not a sack of potatoes, ’m Gracie.”
tha’s right” throwing Gracie on her bed and kissing her forehead. Harry
plops down on the floor and gives his girl that deep dimpled grin.
“Alright love, wha’ do ya wan’ ta play? Dolls? A game? Dress up?”
class daddy” Grace looks at her father like he should already know what
she wants to play. She bounces off her bed and runs to her closet and
pulls out two tutu’s. “One for you, one for me! You can have pink
because it’s your favorite. I have purple. See?” Holding out the pink
skirt to her father to put on his waist. Smiling, Harry thanks his daughter and puts on the pink tutu over his tight black jeans. Grace hands her father the brush and a hair elastic “Do my hair daddy?” Harry
smiles “in a ballerina bun?” Grace nods as Harry continues “I can do
that! Come sit on daddy’s lap” Harry sits back on the floor in his light
pink tutu and pats his leg for her to sit. Running a brush through her
blonde curls and pulling them into a tight bun he hears Grace sigh.
“Daddy? Can you grow your ballerina bun back?” Asking in a very serious tone. “Why do ya ask bug?” Harry chuckles, not expecting her to ask about his beloved man bun, that had been gone for over a year. “So you can look pretty like me!” Grace said this with such a sweet tone, it melted Harry’s heart. “Have
you been talkin’ to your mum? She said the same thing to me yesterday.”
he chuckles recalling the conversation with his wife the night before.
Wrapping the elastic around her bun one last time Harry pats her head
and says “Alright, all done”
stands up and walks over to nightstand where her music player sat. She
pushes play to begin some classical music and grins as bright as the
sun. "Welcome to ballet class!“ Harry
smiles at his daughter and try’s really hard not to laugh because he
knows she means business. His acting lessons were coming in handy at
the moment. “My
name is Gracie, and I am your teacher” she continued. “Time to stretch”
Grace starts walking Harry through the stretches she does at her ballet
lessons. “High to the sky! Reach higher daddy! Now down to your toes!”
Gracie was making sure Harry completed each stretch correctly and
exactly how she wanted. After 5 minuets of stretching Grace felt it was
time to dance.
position daddy” Harry pretends to know what Grace is talking about and
puts his body is a “ballerina” pose. His arms were placed above his head
in a circle and he had a massive smile placed on his face. "That’s not
first position daddy” Grace giggles. Harry’s smile immediately
disappears. "It’s like this" she shows her frowning daddy and he copies
her arms and legs to be in the correct position.
me see your dance. I will count you in” Grace says “5..6..9..10.. go”
Harry begins prancing around the room. Twirling and leaping, spinning
and waving his arms about. Harry lifts his baby girl high in the air and
spins in a circle when a voice comes into the room.
are you silly kids up to?” You say as you walk into Grace’s bedroom.
Giggling at what you just witnessed you look at Harry and your curly
“Playing dance class mum” Grace says stating the obvious
“Looks like fun, may I join?” You ask with a smirk on your face.
if you have ballerina hair” Harry states. “And a tutu” Grace adds. “All
ballerina’s need a tutu I’ll get one” She says as she runs to the
closet and pulls out a bright yellow tutu just for you!
the elastic off your wrist you put your hair into a bun as Grace asks
“mum? Can daddy grow a ballerina bun so he can be pretty like us?”
giggle as you look at harry “I do miss that beautiful man bun of yours”
harry smiles back, knowing you have missed that bun since the day he
cut it off.
“I guess it’s decided then. I’ll see what I can do” Harry says as he turns around in a circle and continues dancing.
Prompt: You take John Laurens to a secret spot of yours, allowing him to get to know you a little better. 10000% fluff.
Pairing: Poly!Hamilsquad mentioned, mostly Laurens X Reader
TW: PG rated spicy language??? Lame pickup lines??? A ton of fluff???
A/N: I did my best, as always, so I hope you enjoy it! Don’t ask me why John didn’t go to drink with the boys, I don’t know, ask him. Anyways, please let me know if you’d like me to TW anything; I want you to feel safe when you read my work! Please enjoy!
Word Count: 1144
No one knew about your spot. There was this one place that only you knew about. It wasn’t anything special. It was just an old, dead end road at the back of your suburb, overlooking the open fields. When you had a hard day, you would drive your car to the end of the road, park it, and sit on the hood. Most of the times you’d visit, the stars were already out. You’d lean back against the windshield, look up at the sky, and talk to the stars. It wasn’t much, but it made you feel better. Sometimes, you’d bring a blanket to keep warm, or perhaps a warm cup of hot chocolate. It was good for your soul.
You hadn’t been to your spot in a while. Last time you went, you ended up crying and yelling. You decided you’d needed a break. Besides, you had no need to show up. After you’d met your boys, things had been looking up. However, this spot was still in your heart.
Alex, Herc, and Laf had all gone out drinking that night, but John had stayed with you. You made the decision on impulse. However, you knew it was a good one. You grabbed your keys, a few blankets, and John’s hand before you went out the the car.
John was giggling as you led him out, “Where are we going, Y/N?”
You flashed him a brief grin before shoving him into the passenger seat. “You’ll see.”
You got in and turned the ignition over. The car rumbled to life, the familiar shake due to the broken motor mounts comforting to you. You placed your hand on the shift, and John placed his on top of yours. You looked over at him, smiling softly, and he did the same, his eyes crinkling and his dimples showing.
You drove to the Chinese restaurant in town, John’s hand never straying from yours. You got a few separate entrees and some drinks as take out. When John went to pull his food out of the bag in your car, you slapped his hand.
“Ouch! Y/N! What the hell?” He gave you a baffled look, but you said nothing. You just took his hand in yours and brought it up to your lips. You pressed a kiss to his knuckles before lowering your hands to rest on your thigh.
The ride to your spot was quiet, with the exception of your new obsession, American Pie, playing in the background. It was dusk by the time you parked it.
“You didn’t take me out here for a drug deal, did you?” John joked, and you rolled your eyes.
“No, I brought you out here to murder you!”
John laughed in response as you both got out of your car. He brought the bag of food with him, and you pulled the blankets out of the back seat. You slid yourself onto the hood and patted the spot beside you. John looked unsure, but followed suit. His clamor up beside you was less than graceful, and you giggled at him. He blushed and handed you the take out. You sorted out the food as he made his best effort to get comfortable. He kept sliding down the hood slowly, unable to find traction.
“John,” you stated, exasperated, before you gently shoved him further back onto the hood. You knew it’d keep him there.
“Whoa, if you wanted me that bad, you just had to say so,” he winked at you as he reclined against the wind shield. You slapped his shoulder in response.
“You wish, honey,” you teased as you handed him a container and a fork. You grabbed your own before you snuggled up beside him. He put his arm around you and put the container between his legs. You leaned your head on his shoulder as you both ate in silence. The only sounds were that of the open field. The wind whispered gently across the two of you, a few birds were heard far off.
“So, where are we?” John finally asked after taking a sip of his Brisk half tea half lemonade. “I mean, I know we’re close to home, but like, where are we?”
You understood what he meant, and you smiled against the fabric of his hoodie. He smelled like a pine forest. You always loved that cologne. “This is my spot.”
“No, Y/N, I’ve been to your spot…” he began with a playful smile as he looked down at you, crinkles forming where his chin met his neck. You could see just a shadow of facial hair growing in. Damn, he was sexy.
“No, I mean, this is my place. I come here to think. It’s special to me,” you whispered the last part, insecure in sharing your secret haven.
John was silent for a minute, then he kissed the top of your head, “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
You hummed in response, and he squeezed you tighter against him.
“I love to look at the stars when I come out here,” you began suddenly, filling the silence with meaningless chatter. “They’re so constant, you know? I mean, as constant as the universe can be. They’re always there, always watching, always listening. They know what you’re going to say before you say it. Sometimes, I feel like I don’t even have to speak, I just have to sit here, and the universe will just understand. The stars… they’re like my map. They gave me a sense of direction within myself when I felt lost…”
“I’ve never seen you here before…” John pondered. He was right. You never just left at night to come to this spot. You hadn’t been here in a while. Of course he wouldn’t have seen you.
“I haven’t been here for a while,” you admitted as you watched the tufts of night clouds caught in the moonlight.
John used his free hand to brush hair out of your face. “Why not?”
You turned to look at him, the moonlight making his curls shine, “Because I found my stars in you.” You leaned forward and kissed his freckled cheek, causing him to blush and smile.
“You’re too sweet to me, Y/N,” John purred as you peppered his face with kisses.
“It’s not possible. You’re worth all the sweetness in the world!” He laughed as he pushed you away from his face. You managed to land another kiss to his cheek, though. You settled back against him, the Chinese had been finished for quite some time considering how hungry you both had been.
John reached down and pulled the blanket over the two of you, protecting you from the night air. “If I’m your stars,” he whispered against your hair, and then he pressed a kiss to your head, causing your face to heat up, “then you’re my moon.”
Lucifer. Are your wings pink and glittery. Tumblr thinks so.
“Excuse me?” Lucifer hisses through blood-stained teeth and cracked lips. Light the color of hellfire shines through the larger splits in his vessel’s skin. The tight leather clothing seems to be the only thing keeping the body from bursting open.
“Is this some kind of joke?” he asks as he limps, slow and clumsy, across the room. “And who is this ‘Tumblr,’ anyway? They sound like the exact reason I wouldn’t bow down before your tiny, stupid, insignificant race. My Father grants you an entire realm, free will, and every amenity imaginable, and you squander it away to contemplate if my wings are…’pink and glittery.’“
His voice rises in a mocking tone. Flecks of blood spray with each word. He takes a gurgling breath and rolls his shoulders like he’s trying to relieve them of a great painful weight.
“You could not comprehend my wings even if you had the ability to see them. They are comprised of colors beyond your known spectrum. Do not insult me with your petty questions.”
Requests are open! Requested: Anonymous asked for reader having a terrible date and Newt cheers her up
You trudged through the snowy streets of New York listening to the voices drifting through the air. You shivered slightly tugging on the sleeves of your dress as snow landed across your skin. Your dress swayed slightly as a gust of wind blew by causing goosebumps to rise across your skin.
A scowl grew on your face as you remembered why you had even chosen this dress. You crossed your arms huffing slightly trying to ignore the anger rising in you. It was a few minutes later that you arrived at your apartment. You quickly made your way inside, thankful for the warm air that rushed to greet you.
You could smell a hint of smoke throughout the house as your fire crackled in the living room. You relaxed letting the noise calm you slightly. You could almost forget what happened today…. Almost.
Crashes sounded from the kitchen a sudden metallic ring going through the air. Your chest tightened and without a thought, you were already in the kitchen door way. There stood your best friend, Newt Scamander, with a completely destroyed kitchen. Your pots and pans covered the floor with spots of flour on every surface. In fact, there was flour in the HufflePuff’s curly hair. He smiled nervously a hint of red creeping across his face. “O-Oh hi (Y/n),” He said nervously.
You shook your head a smile forming on your face. You gently took the Niffler from Newt helping to clean some flour off the poor thing. “What are you doing Newt,” You asked chuckling slightly. Newt chuckled slightly running a hand through his hair.
He glanced away nervously before replying, “Well Y-You were supposed to get home later… I was baking you your favorite cookies…” Newt was thankful for the flour covering his face cause he knew without it his face would be lobster red. He glanced up at you noticing a glimmer of sadness in your eyes. “(Y/n) are you alright?”
You shook your head willing your thoughts back into their places. You smiled slightly at him and repied, “Yes of course I am.” You prayed that Newt would leave the topic alone. If he asked about it you weren’t sure if you could answer. You held the Niffler closer to you. “I’m going to put this little guy back, alright?” Newt nodded studying you very closely as you teased, “Now try not to get more flour all over the place.”
You left the room making your way into Newt’s studies trying to ignore the ache in your chest. Tonight had been a disaster and that was putting it midly. Even thinking about it now churned your insides unhappily. You focused on the task at hand and easily opened Newt’s suitcase and made your way inside. You smiled slightly as the Billywings flew over to greet you. They zoomed about your head stopping to study you every now and then before flying off. You giggled slightly before opening the door into Newt’s suitcase.
A fwooper swooped down from the branch of the nearby tree nearly hitting your head as it passed. You chuckled slightly as it perched on it’s stand Newt had made for it. Newt’s suitcase always seemed to raise your spirits. You made your way to the tree floating slightly in the air and put the niffler back in his burrow.
“So (Y/n) may I ask something?” You smiled slightly at Newt’s voice turning to face him. He stood nervously in front of you. His eyes scanning your face. You tilted your head wondering what he was thinking. “Sure Newt. What is it?” You asked. Newt’s eyes softened making you shift slightly.
“How did your date go?” The moment he said those words tears gathered in your eyes. You tried to keep your lip from trembling and steady your breathing. Newt’s eyes widened in worry as he wrapped you in his arms. He rubbed your back soothingly. “What happened (Y/n)?”
Your body trembled as tears streamed down your face. You clung to Newt remind the magizoologist of, his bowtruckle, Pickett. Cause all of a sudden you seemed so fragile. Like a gust of wind could topple you over no problem.You sniffled slightly struggling to form words. “H-He was awful Newt! H-H-He was stuck up and b-barely paid attention. H-He started flirting with the waitress. T-Then he just left to hang out with her,” You stuttered struggling for air. Your chest was being squeezed and it burned and ached.
Newt’s heart broke seeing you so distraught. “Hey… It’s alright (Y/n)….” He mumbled gently wiping your tears away. He gave you a tiny smile in hopes it would help. “How about we go and curl up on the couch? I’ll make you hot cocoa.” You giggled slightly wiping more tears away. “Alright… You know I can’t resist Hot Cocoa.”
Newt guided you back to the living room. His hand clasped in yours until you got to the living room. You plopped down on the couch still sniffling slightly. It was only a few moments before Newt came back caring a mug of hot cocoa. “Here you are (Y/n).” He sat beside you fiddling with his hands seeming nervous. You took a seat from the cocoa letting out a contempt sigh before nestling into the couch.
“He’s not very bright you know,” Newt said his voice cutting through the silence. You glanced at him seeming curious. He blushed and glanced at his lap. “I mean you’re more interesting than anyone I’ve known.” You smile slightly at his words feeling something flutter within you. “He also must be blind,” He continued, “Cause your obviously more beautiful than any woman I’ve known.” Red was creeping across his face and tinted his ears.
“Newt…” You blushed more at his words. Your smile slowly becoming a grin. “What I’m trying to say is…. I’m glad he missed the real you… Cause then I couldn’t admit that I love you…” He mumbled quietly. Your heart stopped at his words leaving you breathless. He did? You hugged Newt burying your face in his neck not able to stop grinning.
“I love you too,” You mumbled giggling happily. You pulled away smiling up at him. He studied your face. His eyes showing nothing but love it seemed. He tilted your chin up a small blush on his cheeks. “May I?” He asked nervously. Your face grew hot at the question and you gave a slight nod. Newt pressed his lips to yours sending a spark through your body. You closed your eyes trying to ignore the hammering of your heart. He pulled away a few moments later a small smile gracing his lips. You giggled slightly and nestled up to him. Perhaps you would have to thank the guy later for such a horrible date.
summary: Lifelong orphan and wanderer Emma Swan moves to Storybrooke, Maine in search for a home. Content with a new job as deputy, she meets Killian Jones, director of an orphanage. It doesn’t take long for sparks to fly, but will Emma finally be able to settle down and find a home here?
you pick up some chips for taco night? I can pay you back! - MM
The text comes in just as Emma’s walking out
of the station. She smiles slightly at it and types out a response.
Despite her immediate reaction to be
completely furious at the fact that someone would care too much about her
personal life and where she goes home at night, the conversation she’d had with
Killian brought her to the conclusion that his motives were relatively decent.
It takes guts for anyone to admit they have romantic interests at heart, and
yeah, it makes sense.
She’s not naive- she’d seen his face when they
first met. She knew he was trying to get her to stay, to get her to talk, and
if she hadn’t reacted so coldly to his kindness, maybe he would have asked her
this took me longer than I wanted to put out, but this is an idea that came to
me one morning while I was trying to sleep! It is my first ever writing that
isn’t a paper for college and history! It’s short, but I didn’t want to put the whole idea into the first post! I hope you enjoy. It definitely needs a
second part so let me know if you all are interested and I will work on it. :) A HUGE thank you to the beautiful @harry-writings for proof-reading and helping me get through the nervousness of posting this!
I was fresh off the last string of interviews and staying in
LA for a bit. Gemma flew in to spend the week with me since we hadn’t seen each
other in months. We created a tradition of going to a coffee shop when I
finished up a crazy schedule of interviews and television appearances unless we
were in London and we would go get our favorite cups of tea. I was meeting
Gemma at my favorite shop in Marina del Rey just west of LA since she decided
to run off early this morning to do some sight seeing.
I turned the corner
to the shop and saw woman, maybe 23-24 and a little girl who looked like she
could be three years old or so with her hair in pig tails. The woman looked
stressed, a little weathered maybe. She was staring off into the distance while
the little girl, who I’m assuming at this point is her daughter was eating a
Happy Meal beside her. I couldn’t help but to just watch and wonder what was on
this woman’s mind.
“Harry!” I heard Gemma yell from just down the road and it
knocked me out of my trance. “Come on, a table just freed up” she said while
standing in the doorway of the shop.
I was intrigued, wanting to go up and ask this woman if she
was ok. She looked so lost and tired with large, dark bags under her eyes.
“M’comin Gem.” Harry walked into the coffee shop still with
that woman and little girl on his mind.
“Harry, have you been to the Santa Monica pier yet?” Gemma
asked a distracted looking Harry with a wide grin on her face. Silence. “Harry?”
“Oh, uh yah, I went with the guys the first time we came to
“What’s wrong with you Harry? You look like you just saw a
ghost or something”, Gemma says as you brings her head down to look at Harry’s
eyes that are currently staring into his coffee. “M’fine Gem, maybe just a
“Hey Guys”, Niall walks into the shop. “Gemma, I didn’t know
you were coming to LA!”
“Well of course I came to LA, I couldn’t break a tradition
with my little brother” she says as she stands up to hug Niall, and excuse
herself to go and use the restroom.
“Harry, are you ok, you seem kinda out of it”, Niall
exclaims looking at his friend.
“Yah m’fine, I wish everyone would stop asking me that”,
Harry says with a sigh. “Niall, did you see a woman outside with a little girl?”
Niall looks confused. “Wha’ ?” Harry turns and proceeds to tell him that there
was a woman and a little girl sitting on the bench right outside the door. “Oh,
yah they were still there when I came in, do you know them or something?” Harry
pursed his lips together and let out a barely audible “no”.
The next thirty minutes or so Niall and Gemma were catching
up, both looking occasionally at the way too silent Harry. Gemma knew something
was wrong but for whatever reason couldn’t get Harry to say anything.
I’ve seen people. Lot’s of people. I don’t know why I couldn’t
get the sight of this woman out of my head. I knew Gemma and Niall would be
leaving soon so I pulled out my laptop and pretended to work, letting them know
I would catch up later.
Here was my chance. I could now get up to go and talk to her,
but my feet wouldn’t move. Just go, I kept saying to myself, what is wrong with
Harry finally got up and walked outside. The woman now
sitting there with tear stained cheeks and the little girl playing with a doll
behind the bench. Harry slowly walked up to her and let out a soft “hello’.
The woman didn’t even look up though she recognized the
voice. Who wouldn’t recognize that voice. Holding back a slight sob, and in a
raspy voice she said a simple “hi” back. Why on this day would she run into the
Harry Styles. This day of all days. She wasn’t wearing any make up, and
probably looked a hot mess. Oh my god, Harry Styles is standing in front of. Do
I say something else, was he just trying to be nice? Lost in her thoughts she
didn’t realize he hadn’t walked away.
“M’Harry”, she looked up with wide eyes being pulled out of
her trance. “I know”, she said as she looked into his green eyes. Those green
eyes she had seen many times before but only in pictures. “I’m y/n, and this is
Grace” pointing to the little girl who was now pretending her doll was flying.
Grace looked up and smiled, her blue eyes beaming into the sun. “Hi! I’m Grace!”
she said with one of the cutest little giggles.
“Hello Grace!” Harry said with one of those crooked grins, “Do
you mind if I sit with you a while”? She shook her head and went back to
playing. Y/n was just sitting there staring. What is he doing? Why does he want
to sit with us?
It was rather odd. I have never done anything like this, but
I needed to hear her story. It was like she was a magnet that was pulling me in
and no matter how hard I tried to resist, it didn’t work. She had grey eyes
that sparkled almost silver when the light hit them the right way and god they
were beautiful. Y/n and I talked for a while. She had hit some hard times, and
by hard times, I mean, I can’t imagine what she’s going through. She lost her
job, and is on the verge of being evicted. I wanted to know more, no I needed
to know more.
“Y/n, would you like to have dinner with me tonight”?
What? Harry wants to have dinner with me? What would I wear,
how would I do my hair? Is this really happening? Than a realization crossed
y/n’s mind…Grace. I don’t have anyone to watch Grace.
“I’m sorry Harry but I can’t”. She slouched over and just
stared at the ground.
“Wha’, why not?” Harry was confused. He started thinking
back and realized he had never really been turned down when he asked someone to
dinner or well out in general.
“It’s Grace, I don’t have anyone to watch her and”, Harry
stopped her and shook his head. “You can bring her y’ know”, he was now
tickling Grace as she sat on his lap poking the tattoos on his arms and
“Well, ok. Grace do you want to have dinner with Harry?”
The little girl stopped poking the tattoos and looked up at
Harry and then at y/n.
“Yes! P’ease momma can we” at this point she was basically
“Well tha’ settles it then. I will pick you two up at eight!”