I’m not able to update all my stories right now, but the following statement applies to the stories I post here and the drabbles I post on @theycallmebecca
Usage Disclaimer: My works are for fans only. This author does not give permission for them to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the works cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.
Earlier today I stumbled upon @the-slumberparty and their Candy Hearts Sleepover daily prompts. Today’s was “a hug turns into an accidental kiss” and I had to urge to write. It started as one thing and then became what is here.
Thanks to @nomadicpixel for her support and encouragement.
Title: If This Was A Romance Novel
Pairing: Andy Barber x first person reader
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
In romance novels, kisses are never accidentally. There’s always some sort of fate or destiny thread that authors use to explain how a simple hug becomes a kiss that lights the match of desire for two characters.
But that doesn’t happen it real life.
At least not for me.
No, no. I’m the type of person who sees an old friend in a bar and makes a complete fool of myself.
Exhibit 1,985,201:
I met Andy Barber in college and crushed on him embarrassingly hard even though he never saw me as anything other than a study partner.
After college, we went our separate ways and only occasionally ran into each other at weddings and different social gatherings. Nothing more than simple hug, a “hi, how are you?” followed by polite small talk.
Until tonight, that is.
Tonight, we bumped into each other in a random bar. It all started out normally with a small, one armed hug.
Then it happened.
The hug became a kiss.
And by that I mean some asshole shoved past Andy, shoving him into me and our lips touched.
Barely, more of a brush than a full on touch.
In a romance novel that would have been enough. He would have made sure I was ok then asked if I wanted to try that again.
But Andy isn’t a book boyfriend and I’m far from a book worthy heroine.
Exhibit 1,985,202:
When our lips touched, my overpriced drink poured down the front of his pants.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed. “Andy, I’m sorry!”
“Not your fault,” he said, assuringly. “Nothing a trip to the bathroom can’t fix.” He offered you a small smile. “Good to see you.”
Then he was gone.
“Who the fuck was that?” Your friend asked, appearing at your side.
“An old friend,” you replied.
“What kind of friend?” She asked as you went back to the bar to get a replacement drink. “The boring kind or the fun kind?”
“The only in my dreams kind,” you replied before turning your attention to the bartender.
Armed with your new drink, you and your friend made your way back to the table the rest of your group was at.
One of the others was in the middle of recounting a funny story when they went silent at something behind you.
Looking up, you saw Andy standing in front of the table.
“Sorry to interrupt,” he said to the group. Then turned his attention directly to you. “I just wanted to ask, is your number still the same from college?”
You nodded your head. Then your friend elbowed you in the side and you choked out. “Yes, it is.”
“Good, we’ll have to get together soon,” Andy said.
“She’s single,” your friend said.
“I was hoping that was the case,” Andy said with a grateful nod. “I am, too. I’ll call you?”
“Ok,” you replied, too shocked to say more.
“Great, have a nice evening all,” he said.
He gave you a last, long look before he walked off, leaving you to wonder that maybe fate and destiny weren’t just exclusive to romance novels.
BECCA! YAY! you're trying to write again. Hope to read your work soon. Your RPF CE fics were my favorite comfort reads. Hope you continue to write for him. It's so hard when your favs stop writing. It's like losing touch w a BFF.
Not writing again yet… just that the muses are awakening… and that’s the first step in being able to write again.
As for the comfort stories. I’m glad they brought you joy, nonny ❤️
I don’t know what my plans are yet. Right now, I’m kind of focusing on the goal of finishing Chris and Ellie… since I started that series 10 years ago 🫣…
What's this? A drabble? 🤯 And it's a real drabble this time... exactly 100 words!
I saw a post by @justagirlinafandomworld for the Flash Fiction Challenge 5 and since it was Christmas songs (and we all know I love those to an unhealthy level), I decided to give it a whirl.
The song I was assigned was 'O Holy Night' specifically the Mariah Carey version. I had one idea and then when I was in the shower, I got this idea and I loved it so much that I went with it. Took me about 20 minutes to get the perfect combination of 100 words but it's the first thing I've successfully written in ages.
This one is a short and sweet Cole Turner (Ghosted) drabble.
Title: Not a Typical Wedding
Pairing: Cole Turner x reader
Rating: G
Warnings: n/a
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.
O’Holy Night is not your typical wedding song.
But this isn’t a typical wedding.
There’s no white dress; it’s too muddy.
There’s no flowers; just a baby pine tree waiting to be planted.
Your groom is a small-town farmer.
His parents and sister are the only witnesses.
Vows are said.
Rings are exchanged.
A kiss seals the deal.
Then you and Cole plant the tree in the empty field, the start of a dream of running a Christmas tree farm.
It’s the end to your very own whirlwind holiday romance and the beginning of a lifetime making memories with Cole.
BECCA!! You're back! YAY! Any chance you're writing new CE RPF content? Pretty please! 🤞
Hey nonny,
I honestly don't know. At this point I am operating on what inspires me to write and if I can even write.
It is still my intention to finish my Chris and Ellie series, but even that is on hold.
I went through a VERY rough patch with work last fall and I'm still trying to get past the stress of it while also knowing full well that we aren't exactly in a better position and our busy season starts all over again in like six weeks.
I wish I could tell you definitively one way or the other... but I can't. I'm sorry.
Hello! I have no idea how many people are going to see this. So if you've followed me for awhile, hi, I'm back. Sort of! And if you're new, hi!
It's been 8 months since I've written and posted anything due to too much stress and writers block. But yesterday I saw that @the-slumberparty was hosting a summer event and I looked at the prompts and it just seemed like fun.
I chose Cookie Dough (bakery AU) with Cherries (meet cute) and paired it with a modern day AU Bridgerton.
Title: Sweet Delights
Fandom: Bridgerton AU & Modern
Pairing: AU Colin Bridgerton x AU Penelope Featherington
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: suggestive
Author's Note: The characters are the following ages, Colin - 33, Daphne - 32, Penelope - 28, Felicity - 21 (she's the youngest Featherington sister in the books)
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.
"The things I do for you," Colin Bridgerton mumbled as he walked down the street with his sister Daphne.
She shot him a peevish look before replying, "And who else was I supposed to ask to go with me to sample cake for mum's party?"
Colin considered that for a second before sighing. She was right, damnit. Of all eight Bridgerton siblings, his palette was the most like their mothers. Not to mention the fact that he was always hungry.
"Here we are," Daphne said, gesturing to a sign that read 'Sweet Delights'.
Ever the gentleman, Colin opened the door for his sister and let her enter before he followed.
A tall, skinny redhead was behind the counter and Colin opted to stand to the side, letting his sister introduce herself. He let his eyes wander around the shop, taking in the mix of modern and antique decor.
Spotting a frame with several news clippings, he wandered over to look at it. Learning that the shop had been in this building since just after World War II and the original owner, Penelope Thomas, had recently retired and sold the business to her granddaughter, Penelope Featherington. Both women were pictured side by side and Colin felt drawn to the younger one despite knowing he'd never met her before.
"Colin," he heard his sister call.
Colin turned and collided with someone.
There was a shriek and then cakes went flying.
Acting on pure instinct, Colin grabbed the woman, trying to steady them both, but then his foot slipped on frosting and he felt himself falling, the woman with him.
They landed with a crash, the woman landing on top of him as cake splatted to the ground around them.
"Oh my god," the woman said once everything was silent. "Oh my god. I am so -"
Colin opened his eyes and found the woman, Penelope, from the clippings, laying on top of him.
"Are you alright?" Daphne's worried voice reached Colin's ears.
"I'm fine," Colin assured her. "Are you ok?" His eyes met Penelope's and felt his heart skip a beat.
"Y- yes," she replied. Her eyes remained locked with his for a second before she shook her head, as if finally remembering that she was on top of him in the middle of the floor. "Oh my god."
"Careful!" the other redhead exclaimed. "There's cake and frosting everywhere."
Then she and Daphne were there and helped Penelope untangle herself without making things worse.
Finally, Colin sat up and rubbed the back of his head, only to pull his hand away and find red.
He tilted his head and studied the substance that clearly wasn't blood. Bringing his hand to his face, he sniffed it.
"Colin?" his sister asked, concerned.
"It's strawberry coulis," Colin and Penelope said at the same time.
—
Most of the time, Penelope Featherington felt like she was the owner of a bake shop. But there were sometimes when she felt anything but.
Today was one of those days. It felt like nothing had gone right all day.
Then, to top it all off, her younger sister, Felicity, had forgotten to tell her that she'd scheduled a last minute cake tasting for a new customer named Daphne Basset.
Penelope had had exactly twenty minutes before the appointment to scramble everything together, thankful that most of their flavor combinations were featured in their cupcakes, before the appointment.
She heard the bell on the door jingle as she put the last cupcake on the tray and breathed a sigh of relief.
She took a minute to clean herself up and then left the kitchen with the tray of samples.
Everything was fine for the first five and a half steps. She saw the woman talking to Felicity and then saw the man looking at the news clippings. She couldn't see his face, but he was tall and had gorgeous chestnut hair that she just wanted to run her fingers through.
"Colin?" The voice came out of nowhere and he turned unexpectedly.
She tried to avoid the collision, but it likely made the situation worse. Her overcorrection had left her unbalanced and he'd tried to save her, but it had led to them both ending up on the floor.
She'd landed on top of him, all her wobbly bits pressed against his solid body. His strong arms wrapped around her, still holding her close.
"Oh my god," she said, once the room had fallen silent. "Oh my god." She felt his hands drop from around her. "I am so -"
"Are you alright?" the woman's worried voice asked, interrupting her. Penelope assumed she had to be Daphne Basset.
"I'm fine." She could feel the vibration of his words as he assured his companion before he asked her, "Are you ok?"
Their eyes met and the anger that Penelope had suspected to see wasn't there. Instead, his eyes were filled with nothing but kindness and a hit of surprise. There was something else in his look, but Penelope wasn't sure how to interpret it.
"Y- yes," she stammered, unable to pull her eyes from his. There was something about him that seemed so familiar and yet different all at the same time. Then she remembered where she was. On top of him in the middle of her bakery. "Oh my god."
She started to push herself off him, but stopped when she heard Felicity call out, "Careful!"
Between Felicity and Daphne, they helped Penelope get up without causing more damage to herself, Colin or the bake shop.
Once she was on her feet, Penelope surveyed the damage. All of the cupcakes had been ruined and they'd managed to smash a few under them when they fell.
"Colin?"
Hearing the concern in Daphne's voice, Penelope shifted her gaze to Colin who was studying something red in his hand.
Her eyes dropped back to the floor where they'd been just moments before and saw the chocolate cupcake with the chocolate mousse cupcake where his head had been. It was smashed and its filling had oozed out.
"It's strawberry coulis," Colin and Penelope said at the same time.
—
"Are you sure?" Daphne asked, concern still laced in her voice.
"I'm fine, Daph," he sighed. Then, turning to the other women, said, "Sisters, am I right?"
"Older or younger?" the one that wasn't Penelope asked.
"Younger," Colin and Daphne echoed.
"Definitely a you problem then," the young woman said with a smirk. "Us younger sisters never do anything wrong, isn't that right, Penelope?"
Colin smiled when he saw Penelope roll her eyes at her younger sister. He chose to ignore what that might mean.
With his eyes on Penelope, he saw her straighten her shoulders and turn to Daphne. "I am so sorry about this," she apologized and gestured to the mess around them. "If you choose us to make the cake for your party, it will be on the house."
"That is very kind of you, but we insist on paying," Daphne told her.
"They're Eloise's siblings," her younger sister explained. "Bridgerton."
The unease in Penelope's stance all but vanished. "You're Eloise's siblings?" she repeated.
Colin felt her eyes on him as she studied him and then Daphne. Then she nodded and said, "Yes. I see the resemblance now."
"You know Eloise?" he asked. He hadn't known that, but evidently Daphne had.
"She and her sisters went to the school as we did," Daphne told him. "Eloise and Penelope were in the same year and were roommates at one point."
"Our last year," Penelope supplied. "We've lost touch in the years since, I'm afraid."
Her sister cleared her throat, forcing all the attention to her. "It's just that, if Mr. Bridgerton has coulis in his hair, he'll likely want to wash it out as soon as possible. It is quite sticky."
"She's right," Daphne said with a sigh. "And we drove together, too. I guess we'll have to reschedule."
"Actually, Penelope's apartment is just up the stairs," the younger sister said. "I'm sure she wouldn't mind if Mr. Bridgerton wanted to rinse off. Especially not since she, herself, needs to go upstairs and change."
—
If looks could kill, Felicity would be dead from the glare that Penelope shot her sister.
"Oh, that would be splendid!" Daphne exclaimed. "And while they do that, I can help you clean, Felicity."
Penelope blinked and shook her head confused. This was her bake shop, since when did her sister call the shots?
"Just go, Pen," Felicity said, waving her towards the kitchen and the stairs beyond it. "By the time you two come back down, this place will be clean and we can start over."
Penelope sighed and turned to Colin. "Come with me, I guess," she said.
"If you're uncomfortable, I can call for a taxi," he told her once they were alone in the kitchen. "It's no trouble." Then he tossed her a smirk and said, "After all, I have four younger sisters. I know how managing they can be."
Penelope studied him for a moment, giving herself time to decide. She knew two of his sisters, Eloise and Francesca, quite well and given everything that had transpired in the last fifteen minutes, she still felt comfortable in his presence.
"Come along," she said. "I think I still have some stuff my ex left here that you can wear." She paused and asked, "Assuming you don't have anything against wearing vegan, cruelty free clothing."
Colin paused and tilted his head, giving her a confused look. "Is there really such a thing?" he asked.
"According to my ex there is," she replied and then cringed. She and Alfred, never Alfie, Debling had been broken up for six months and here she was talking about him like a love sick fool. She stopped suddenly on the stairs and turned to face Colin, who was two steps behind her, but they were nearly face to face because of the difference. "I'm not hung up on my ex. I just like facts and facts are easy."
Colin tilted his head again and she wasn't sure if she found it adorable or annoying. "I like facts, too," he finally said.
Penelope took a breath, nodded her head and then continued up the stairs. She unlocked her apartment door and then stepped aside to let him in.
"The bathroom is right there," she pointed to one of the few doors in the apartment. "I'm afraid all of my stuff is rather girly," she apologized. "But you're welcome to use any of it."
"It's better than strawberry coulis, I'm sure," Colin said. "The clothes?"
"Oh right," she said and then, because it was established they both liked facts, added, "I know I said they were my ex's, but I bought them on sale and then we broke up, so they were never actually his. It was just too late to return them."
—
Colin tried not to look, but he found it impossible not to as Penelope got down on her hands and knees to pull a box out from under her bed.
She had a nice ass.
He'd noticed it on the stairs and had been caught completely off guard when she'd spun around suddenly. If she'd caught him staring, she hadn't said anything.
"I know they're here somewhere," she said, her ass in the air as she searched.
Colin opened his mouth to respond, but wasn't sure what one was supposed to say in such a situation.
'Take your time' seemed indecent, especially since his eyes kept going to her butt.
'I'm in no rush' was a lie, he could feel the stickiness on the back of his neck.
"Ah ha!" she exclaimed. "Found them!"
Colin watched as she shoved the box back under her bed. Then he quickly averted his gaze as she stood up and made her way to him.
"Here you go," she said, holding them out. "And you can just keep them. I don't have any use for them."
"Thank you," he replied. Then gestured to the bathroom. "I'll just…"
"Oh yes, of course," she said. "And I'll change, too. But over there." She pointed to an old-fashioned privacy screen. "Uh, enjoy your shower." Then she cringed.
"Thanks," he said before giving her what he hoped was a friendly smile.
He went into the bathroom and closed the door.
He gotten as far as removing his shirt when there was a knock.
"I, uh, have a bag for your clothes," she said from the other side.
Colin glanced at himself in the mirror and then decided 'why the hell not' and opened the door.
—
Penelope had expected him to just open the door enough to accept the bag, but when he opened it fully and revealed his chests, she visibly swallowed.
Her eyes traveled up from his trim waist, up to his toned pecs and, finally, up to his face. Where she saw a heated look staring back at her.
"Here's the bag," she said quickly and then hurried away from the door, wishing like hell that she didn't live in a studio apartment.
A second later, the bathroom door closed and she waited until she heard the water turn on before she made her way to the antique privacy screen.
There was a wicked part of her brain that told her to just barge into the bathroom and kiss Colin Bridgerton and give into the desire that was evidently building between them. But the cautious side of her brain, the part that had been ever present and nagged while she was dating Alfred, told her to proceed with caution.
There was no unease, she realized as she changed clothes. When she'd dated Alfie, as Felicity loved to call him these days, there had been a sense of unease at every turn.
They'd only dated for less than a year, but he'd constantly been asking her to change herself and her world while expecting her to accept him exactly as he was. The turning point had come when he'd all but demanded she abandon her grandmother's tried and true recipes and convert the bakery to an exclusively vegan and gluten free one.
That's when she had realized that she would never be good enough for him. There would always be parts of her life that he'd expect her to change to please him. That she wasn't good enough just being herself.
Stepping out behind the privacy screen, Penelope studied the bathroom door. While she'd only just met Colin, she knew about him and his family. While Eloise hadn't spoken a lot about her family, per say, they'd been classmates from the ages of 11 to 18 and she could recall a story or two about the Bridgerton older brothers.
—
Strawberry coulie free, Colin stepped out of the bathroom wearing the gifted joggers and hoodie. They were a little loose on him, but otherwise were comfortable.
Feeling eyes on him, he looked up and caught Penelope looking at him. When her cheeks started to redden, he tilted his head and studied her.
"Why do you do that?" she asked him. "Tilt your head when you look at me?"
"I dunno," he said. "I didn't even realize I was doing it. I guess, I just find you intriguing."
"Is that a good thing?" she asked him. She hadn't moved from her position about ten feet away from him.
"Yes."
They stood silently for a moment before she gestured to the stairs. "I suppose we should go help our sisters."
They made their way back down the stairs, but instead of finding their sisters, they found a note on the workbench.
Penelope read it and then handed it to him.
Pen,
Daphne forgot she had dinner plans with her husband tonight and I have a date. You and Colin will need to finalize the flavors tonight. The party is next week.
Felicity
"This has Daphne written all over it," Colin accused. "I'm sorry about this. My sister is happily married and thinks everyone else should be too."
"Don't blame your sister entirely," Penelope said, shaking her head. "Felicity isn't innocent in this."
"Younger sisters, am I right?" Colin echoed his sentiment from earlier, which had the desired effect, making Penelope smile. "Tell me how I can help."
—
"Tell me how I can help," Colin's voice reverberated in her mind.
Alfie had never offered to help. Not even when the shop was in a rush and he was waiting for her to close for the day. He'd just sit at the table in the corner and read.
Propelled by some source within her, Penelope closed the difference, wrapped her arm around Colin's neck and pulled his face towards hers and kissed him. It took a second, but soon his arms were around her and he was kissing her back.
It was the first kiss she had always dreamed of and more.
She saw fireworks.
She felt sparks.
But more than anything, she felt wanted.
When they finally broke apart, Colin rested his forehead against hers and they stared at each other while they caught their breath.
—
One Year Later
"Colin!" Penelope shrieked as he dipped his finger into the strawberry coulis. "That's for your mum's cake!"
"She'll never know," he replied before he licked finger clean.
He knew that Penelope knew that he knew she was watching his tongue closely as he cleaned his finger.
"Colin," she said in a faux warning tone.
"Penelope," he replied in a mocking tone.
Then he grinned and dipped his finger again, this time he held it out to her.
Her eyes met his and he tilted his head, daring her to join his game.
His mother's party was until tomorrow evening, which meant he could help Penelope decorate the cake, and make more coulis, in the morning.
"Penelope," he said in a seductive tone.
"Colin," she replied in the same tone. Then she took his hand and licked the strawberry coulis off his finger, swirling her tongue in the devastating manner that she knew would completely undo him.
"You have five minutes to clean up," he told her once she released his finger. "And then I'm either taking you on the workbench or carrying you upstairs."
She only needed four and they left a trail of clothing going up the stairs.
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So… it’s been awhile, but I haven’t forgotten about this blog or my writing, I promise.
My busiest time of work is during the fall to late spring and this year…
…which has put what little muse I had left on the back burner as I tried to take care of myself amongst the chaos.
But I’m back… maybe? Sort of?
I had my first inkling of an idea the other day and it’s been MONTHS since that happened. The thing is… it’s for nothing I’ve ever written before, so nothing related to Chris or one of his characters.
This blog started out that way and it will continue to he’s that content (still trying to finish Chris and Ellie’s series it’s soooo close), but this blog is going to evolve. It’s going to be the home to all my non-drabble writing. The “drabbles” (in quotes because I do know they aren’t true drabbles but I don’t care) will continue to be on my main blog.
So what is this new idea you ask? A modern day Bridgerton Colin and Penelope story. I’ve been rereading the series this past week in anticipation for Season 3 later this spring and the idea came to me. I tried to ignore it, but as I’m sure my fellow writers know, when you get an idea and it continues to evolve as you ignore it… it kind of wears you down. 🤣
It’s what happened with my story Perfectly Imperfect. I ignored that idea for months, just letting it marinade and then, when I actually decided to write it, I had all but one chapter written in a matter of days.
All of this to say that this blog with be moving into its V2 form, maybe this weekend and maybe later (we’ll see how the ADHD kicks in 🤣)
Thank you to all who have stuck with me during this whole season of no updates. I understand if you decide to unfollow with the changes coming. And I suppose I should welcome anyone new who decides to follow because of said changes.
Regardless, please know that I appreciate any and all of my followers.
For your Autumn prompts- a character (I’m thinking Frank or Curtis would be fun!) of your choosing doesn’t “get” the magic of Autumn/Fall- but after participating in a typical Autumn activity (Fall Festival/haunted house/carving pumpkins/apple picking/a scare crow making contest/scary movie marathon) they get it and it’s a cute fluffy ending 🥺🧡
If this drabble had a theme song it would be Taylor Swift's Anti-Hero, specifically the line 'Hi, I'm the problem, it's me' because I literally started writing this drabble the day I got this request back on the 18th and the ending eluded me until today...
Never the less, I have prevailed! And I bring you some Frank Adler grumpiness.
Title: New Traditions
Pairing: Frank Adler x reader
Rating: PG
Warnings: n/a
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.
"What do you mean you think fall is overrated?” You stared at your boyfriend in shock.
“The colors are nice, I guess,” Frank Adler replied with a shrug. “But I don’t get the fuss.”
You blinked and shook your head in disbelief. You opened your mouth to remind him that he’d grown up in fucking New England, one of the most picturesque places in the entire fucking world to experience fall and then shut it when you remembered why the two of you were even in New England in October.
Mary’s monthly weekend with her grandmother.
You bit your tongue to keep from saying anything about Frank’s mother and tried to mask your face, but you could see Frank’s lips twitch as he tried to fight smiling himself.
“It’s ok, you can call her a bitch if you want to,” Frank said with a grin. “I’ve said worse. To her face.”
“I will not stoop to her level,” you said, pulling your shoulders back. “I’m just glad I’m part of yours and Mary’s lives now and can help you both experience the parts of life that were kept from you.”
“Like what?” Frank asked, tilting his head in curiosity.
“Experiencing fall the way it’s fucking meant to be spent!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up. “Pumpkin patches, hayrides, corn mazes, just everything that makes fall fun!”
Frank gave you a look that said he wasn’t convinced.
“Trust me, by the time I’m done showing you and Mary everything you’ve missed, you’ll be begging me to show you more and, not only that, but making a huge weekend of it every single year,” you promised.
With Mary busy with her grandmother for the weekend, you and Frank went to a local haunted house and then watched a couple scary movies. While he refused to admit he was enjoying himself, you could tell that he was.
By the time you guys were back in Florida, Mary was on board for experiencing a true fall and you knew that would seal the deal for Frank. If there was anything that made your grumpy boyfriend happy, it was seeing his niece enjoying her childhood, something that both he and her mother had missed out on.
You spent the week planning a weekend full of fall-related fun for the three of you, some of which you shared with Frank and Mary, but other parts you decided to keep as a surprise.
When the weekend finally arrived, the three of you got up early and headed out for the first day of fun. You’d found a farm not too far away that had an actual pumpkin patch as well as hayrides, a corn maze, and a farm store.
Just as you had expected, it was an instant hit for Mary. It was a harder sell for your grumpy boyfriend, but, eventually, even he was enjoying himself, though you weren’t sure if it was because he’d gotten into the fall celebration or if it was just because he was happy that Mary was happy.
By the end of that first day, you knew that you’d just stated a new, annual, family tradition.
Chris or steve rogers talk to their future baby’s future while his preg wife, reader was tucked to sleep
Since the prompts were meant to be fluffy fall/halloween prompts, I had to spin this a little to make it work, but I hope you like it nonny.
Title: Late Night Convos
Pairing: Steve Rogers x female reader
Rating: PG
Warnings: pregnancy
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.
The bedroom was dark when Steve came in and quietly got ready for bed.
You'd gone to bed hours ago and were seemingly sound asleep or as soundly as you could be at 7 months pregnant.
Climbing into bed, Steve laid his head back and stared up at the ceiling, still not tired enough to sleep.
Reaching over, he placed his hand on your swollen stomach and smiled when the baby kicked at his hand. He or she was clearly awake for a conversation.
"Steve," you mumbled in your sleep.
"Sorry," he said, guilty.
"S'ok," you replied, moving your hand so it was on top of his. "You can talk to the baby."
"I'll be quiet," he promised. Then he pushed the blankets aside and repositioned himself so his head was by your belly.
He spoke so softly and so closely to your belly that while you couldn't hear what he was saying, you could feel the vibrations on your skin.
You strained you ears to make out the conversation but only heard the word 'pumpkin'.
"What are you talking about?" you asked.
"We're discussing future Halloween costumes," Steve replied. "I promised to not let you dress our baby up like a pumpkin."
"What? Why?"
"Why were we discussing Halloween costumes or why not a pumpkin?" Steve asked. He kissed your belly and then returned to the top of the bed.
"Both?" you asked, tired and confused.
"Because your belly reminded me of a pumpkin and everyone dresses their babies as pumpkins," Steve replied with a shrug.
You blinked at him, unsure how to even respond to that.
"Go back to sleep," Steve said with a smile. "And if you really want to dress the baby as a pumpkin, I won't stop you."
For the Halloween request: Frank or Andy taking their young son trick or treating and their son gets scared and runs to them for comfort
Hey Nonny! Thanks for this prompt. Is this prompt based on that viral video going around of the adorable dinosaur who gets scared trick or treating? I hope so because it's adorable!
In case you missed it, I made a post yesterday asking people to send me fluffy, sweet halloween/autumn prompts.
Title: Cowardly Lion
Pairing: Andy Barber x female reader
Rating: G
Warnings: n/a
Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.
Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context.
The Wizard of Oz was the theme you'd chosen for yourself, Andy, your two kids and the family dog.
You were dressed as Dorthy, Andy was the Scarecrow, your five-year-old daughter was Toto, your two-year-old son was the Cowardly Lion, and the family dog was the Tinman.
The five of you were met with adorable 'awws' and 'how adorable' comments as you tricked or treated around your neighborhood.
"Why can't we go by ourselves?" your daughter asked, after a few houses. "All the big kids are."
"We can wait here if you'd like," you said to her. "Take your brother with you."
"Come on, bubba," your daughter said, taking her brother's hand.
They were only halfway to the front door, when one of the yard decorations howled and both kids started. Your daughter blinked at it, but your son pulled his hand out of hers and ran back crying.
Andy handed you the dog's leash and hurried to the little boy, scooping him up and cuddling him to his chest. "It's ok," he assured the little boy.
"Is he ok?" the homeowner called in concern.
Looking over, you saw that your daughter had made it to the front door to get candy.
"Just got spooked," you called back. "He'll be ok."
Your daughter skipped back to where you were waiting with a couple pieces of candy in her hand. "The lady this is for bubba," she reported.
Andy squatted down so your daughter could give her brother his candy.
After that house, however, your son refused to go to the door of any houses that had decorations in the yard, not even Andy offering to carry him past them could convince them that it was safe.
"Bad, scary monsters," the little boy said, shaking his head.
"Guess we chose the right costume for him," you said to Andy, making him chuckle.
