#KICKING MY FEET SWINGING MY LEGS GIGGLING

[nickthenoncomedian]

I like the way my friend will watch Jerma with me purely for Otto. Like I was showing him a Jerma stream and he said “He has a dog? Thats cool!” And now him and I point out Otto with Jerma anytime he appears.

They can do the Jerma voice when he say Otto PERFECTLY too, which is scary

[imglowinginthedarkness]

hiiii hello hiiiiiiii <3

ohmigosh hiiiiiii hello hello hiiii hiii !!!! <33333

[gloomwitchwrites]

morning after one night stand with 141?

Anon! You have me kicking my feet and giggling over here!! I am cackling so hard omg. I've been waiting for a prompt like this, and I know it has been sitting in my inbox for a while. (Really there are a ton sitting in my inbox and I will get to them all I promise). But after feeling like garbage and having some health issues, this prompt just came to me naturally and I didn't need to force anything. I thought it would be best to tackle this first on my dive back into fulfilling these requests after the 1k follower event.

I went spicy with this one. I won't lie. Because, let's be real, a morning after with any of these four will only end up with you still in that bed. I know I'd fold instantly. No question about it.

Content & Warnings: swearing, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, feelings, oral sex (male & female receiving), sex w/ and w/o condoms, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, aftercare

Word Count: 3.6k

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John Price

The ceiling fan above you spins slowly. It’s not nearly enough air. Your skin is sticky with sweat, and you’ve hardly slept at all.

The sheets you’re tangled in are thin, but what can you expect from a cheap hotel?

All of this was last second. A moment of tipsy-laced passion. Now you’re reaping the consequences. And the air is too damp, too hot, too—

Fuck.

You glance to your right, at the man softly snoring beside you. All the memories from last night appear before your eyes, replaying like a grainy recording. Images of all the positions this man put you in, and how fucking good his dick felt inside you.

Even now, you still feel the slight sting in your scalp from when he tangled his fingers in your hair while you took him into your mouth.

You need to leave. You need to leave with a thread of your dignity in tact before he wakes up. Before John wakes. You know the name well enough. He had you screaming it nearly all night. Insisted on it, and you happily obliged.

Shifting slightly, you shimmy to the very edge of the bed, trying your hardest to sit up without making too much noise or rocking the bed.  Swinging your legs around, you push up, coming to an upright position, feet planting firmly on the floor. Between your legs is a mess. You don’t have to see it to know.

Most of the night, John used condoms. But when the two of you finally curled up together, John had slid his hand between your thighs and parted you just enough to push right on in. You didn’t protest. You had sighed heavily, and then groaned when he rocked his hips, moving inside you.

In the moment you didn’t care. Not one bit. In a way, you still don’t, but what the fuck were you thinking?

You breathe in deep through your nostrils and then exhale slowly through your mouth. Lingering won’t help. You need to collect your clothes from the floor and leave.

As you open your eyes, and blink, you’re faced with your reflection. The full-length mirror against the wall shows the carnage from the night, but it’s not your appearance that has you pausing.

It’s John.

He’s awake.

And he’s staring right at you.

“You leaving me already?” His voice is husky. Sleep-tinged. The sound of it goes straight to your pussy.

“No,” you reply automatically.

He yawns, muscled chest flexing. “You’re lying, love.”

Your limbs do not cooperate. Move. That’s what you need, but your body isn’t listening. It’s melting instead, wanting to draw back into his arms.

“Am I?”

He nods, and rubs his large hand across his chest. The dark hairs there are tempting. You remember running your hands over those pectorals, and how your fingers dug in as you used him to rock back against his cock.

John pushes up and reaches over, that hand pressing against your back lightly, rubbing soft circles.

Fuck.

“Come here,” he says softly, and yet it isn’t soft at all.

It’s not pleading. It’s not exactly a command. John isn’t demanding anything and yet you are unable to form any will of your own. It’s like John has just taken a shot of whiskey.

Finally, your limbs move, but it is not away from him. Your feet find the bed again, and John is grabbing onto your thighs and waist, drawing you back. The whimper you release when both of his hands grasp the backs of your thighs as he pulls you into his lap is obscene. It’s silly. Downright ridiculous.

But it’s cut off. Cinched.

John’s mouth is on yours and then you’re kissing him. It is open-mouthed. A bit messy. But fuck is it good. His hands slide up your thighs, over the curve of your ass, and meander their way over your back. One arm wraps around your waist while the other comes up to your throat.

He won’t let you leave. He won’t allow you to slip away. John’s hand seems so large against your throat, and yet you don’t care. It’s possessive the way he claims your mouth. When you begin to wiggle, John growls, and you’re flipped onto your back.

John doesn’t cease kissing you, and his hands are everywhere. Your legs effortlessly part from him, and you feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh.

What’s one more? Couldn’t hurt.

You shift your hips, and it’s like John already knows. Drawing your legs up and into a more bent position, there is little effort in the way he buries himself to the hilt. You almost choke on your next breath but that is all you have.

There is nothing lazy or soft about this. John’s hips snap forward and back, skin smacking against skin. He presses his face against the side of your head, lips brushing along the lien of your jaw as he continues to relentlessly fuck you into the bed. Your hands claw at his back, fingers digging for a semblance of steadiness.

“Can’t leave yet,” he huffs against your throat.

Your face shifts toward him and John takes this opportunity to find your lips again, and this kiss is so much different. It is passionate, and speaks to something more desperate than a mere need.

This is only supposed to be a night. A fun, drunken fuck you can latch onto your belt.

But no. That’s not what this is.

Not really.

John "Soap" MacTavish

The air conditioning kicks in, and that is what wakes you. A cool burst of air travels over your skin, making you shiver, pulling you from sleep.

You groan, snuggling against the warmth you’re curled against. It’s a comforting warmth. A bit soft with some hardness too. Not completely comfortable but better than the blast of cold air.

When you sink further against this warmth, it shifts beneath you. Dazedly, you blink, pulling back slightly from this nice heat you don’t wish to leave. Your cheek grazes against something scratchy and then you’re frowning down at chiseled pectorals.

The night before comes rushing forward. It is a battering ram of information, one that sends your already foggy brain into overload.

“Morning, love.” The husky, Scottish voice grounds you, slamming you back to reality.

You twist slightly and are greeted by soft blue eyes and a lazy smile.

“Johnny,” you murmur.

“Remembered my name,” he laughs. He reaches over to grasp the back of your thigh, drawing it over his waist. That large hand of his squeezes gently and you shiver.

“You remember mine?” you ask, teasing back.

He hums softly, and then draws you in, whispering your name against your lips.

This was a one-time thing. A quick hookup. You met Johnny at a pub. He had zeroed in on you instantly, making his way toward you with eagerness like he knew he wanted you out of everyone there that night.

And you had melted. Complied. Fallen for his Scottish accent that only seemed to thicken the more he drank. He cracked jokes, and gave you all of his attention. It was nice to be wanted for once, and when he discreetly asked you if you wanted to go back to his place, you didn’t hesitate.

But the morning is here. It has come calling. And now you’re left with the consequences.

“I need to go,” you murmur, drawing away from him.

Embarrassment is starting to sink in. You have no idea what you might look like at the moment but it can’t be anything other than a mess. Your makeup is likely smeared, hair tangled like a bird’s nest, and you fucking ache everywhere.

Which is fucking understandable because Johnny has stamina. You’ve never been with a man with such quick recovery time. He’d finish, take a couple minutes, and come right back at it like he wasn’t winded at all. He also put you in all sorts of weird positions.

No wonder you’re sore.

Johnny’s face falls slightly, and his arms tighten, keeping you crushed against him. “Don’t want to stay for a bit? Could grab some breakfast.”

He’s offering it to you casually as if your rejection won’t mean anything, but you see the hesitation in his gaze. Johnny wants you to say “yes” and yet you don’t know why. It could just be a show of kindness. An offering of nourishment after the workout he put you through last night. But perhaps it’s something more?

No. That’s silly. Ridiculous.

The two of you met just last night. If anything, the two of you have only known each other for twelve hours. That’s hardly enough to go on.

But breakfast sounds lovely.

When you don’t answer right away, Johnny adjusts his hold on you. His face draws close, gaze lazily scanning your body. Slowly, he moves in, brushing his lips against your shoulder, and then the curve at your neck.

“Or we could stay here for a bit longer.” He presses a kiss to your throat. “Breakfast after?” Johnny’s hand changes position, slipping up to grasp the curve of your ass. His body twists, and you feel his hard cock against the inside of your thigh.

Your pussy immediately clenches, remembering all the things he did to you. You attempt to push the feeling aside but it only grows, flowing outward, zapping your self-control.

“Johnny,” you whimper as his hand ventures further downward, sliding between your legs.

His fingers part your pussy, and the sound of the mess between your legs reaches your ears. The two of you didn’t use condoms last night, but you’re both clean and you went for it. It seems overly loudly in the room, and Johnny’s breathing quickens slightly as he explores.

“Don’t mind me adding to this?” His lips come down on your neck before his teeth lightly sink in.

Your lips part and you cry out as Johnny slips a finger inside your pussy. He takes his time, slowly moving in and out of your pussy. Lazily, his thumb brushes over your clit. He repeats the gesture, and your hips buck against his hold.

“Staying?” he asks, lips brushing over collarbone to descend downward to your breasts.

His actions aren’t fair. This isn’t how things are supposed to go. He’s supposed to kick you out. To tell you to leave either politely or like an asshole. Instead, Johnny is trying everything to get you to stay. And you can’t say you’re all that mad about it because—fuck, this man knows how to use his fingers.

Johnny runs his tongue over your nipple and you nearly come undone right then. Your hips flex forward, pushing your clit against his palm. He inserts a second finger, and Johnny groans against your breasts as your orgasm builds toward its peak.

“Stay,” he says, and you squeeze around those two digits, gasping for air as your fingers dig into his pectorals.

Johnny withdraws and rolls you onto your back. You spread your legs gladly, your orgasm still buzzing under your skin. He boxes you in, the head of his cock pushing in. All that soreness returns but it is fleeting. Once he’s seated entirely inside you, you hardly care.

“I’ll stay,” you gasp as he rocks his hips.

“For breakfast, too?”

“Whatever you want.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

When you awaken, it’s a jolt. A sharp shake.

You blink, not recognizing your surroundings for a moment. Hazy memories bubble up to the surface. There was a man with blonde hair and scars. There was whiskey. Lots of it. A bottle shared between you and him.

His hand kept straying to your thigh, squeezing with intention. You leaned in, asked if he was interested in going elsewhere.

This is elsewhere. And it’s not a hotel.

Simon.

You remember him now. His gruff voice, his large hands on your body, and the way he stripped you down in seconds before his mouth sought supple skin. Your cheeks heat with the memory, and you absently press your palm there, the warmth radiating into your fingers.

Glancing over, you find the bed empty. Reaching out, you test the sheets, finding them cold. Simon has been gone a while, but this is no hotel room. It’s too personal, which means he’s somewhere. This must be his home.

If you’re careful, maybe you can slip out. You sit up, and listen. Quiet. No running water or feet padding softly against the floor. The bathroom door is ajar and the light is off. Simon might be out in the kitchen or living room—or he might be gone.

That’s happened before. You’ve awoken only for the man to be gone, leaving you alone in his home to put yourself together and make an exit at your convenience.

It’s…fine.

Simon was a good fuck. You can’t complain on that front. He knew exactly how to work your body. He found all your spots—all the things that make you melt—and stuck with it.

Sighing heavily, you crawl out of the comfortable bed. Your limbs scream in protest, soreness making itself known in places you’ve never been sore before. It’s a game finding your discarded clothes on the floor. With only a sliver of sunlight from the window, you’re forced to grab and hold the item up in the air to determine if the clothing item is yours or Simon’s.

“Finally,” you mutter, identifying your shirt. It’s halfway over your head when you hear the front door. “Fuck,” you hiss, only tangling yourself further.

You take a step back only to smack your leg against the bed. It sends you backwards, sprawling onto your back. You manage to sit up and wrestle your shirt on when Simon enters the room.

He stands in the doorway holding a plastic bag, and wearing a black tracksuit. Simon’s hair is a bit of a mess like he quickly ran his fingers through it before leaving.

“Hi,” you say weakly, because you can’t stand awkward silence.

“Leaving?” asks Simon, but he doesn’t sound upset.

You shrug, and swallow down the lump in your throat. “What’s in the bag?” you reply, switching tactics.

Simon is quiet a moment before he reaches in and tosses something to you. You manage to catch it without fumbling it.

Glancing down, you look at the box. At the—oh.

“We ran out last night,” he states simply.

It suddenly grows hot in the room.

“We did,” you agree, clutching the box of condoms like it’s a lifejacket.

He bought more. Which means—

“You’re welcome to leave,” he says, crumbling up the bag and setting it on top of the dresser. Simon reaches into his pocket and deposits his keys along with his phone. Unzipping his jacket, Simon reveals bare chest.

When the jacket is gone, Simon is left in only black joggers. He’s on full display. Broad shoulders, muscled arms and chest, large hands that perfectly wrapped around your throat as he bent you over and fucked you from behind.

“Is that what you want?” you ask, but you already know the answer. If Simon really wanted you gone, he wouldn’t have left to purchase another box of condoms.

“It’s what you want,” he replies. Simon is so calm—so casual. He’s not moving away from the door. He stands there, shirtless, gaze intense.

You sigh loudly and glance down at the box of condoms. “You did go out of your way to buy these.”

By the time you glance up, Simon is right there, grasping your throat, easing your head upwards so that you can look at him. With his other hand, he takes the condoms and tosses them onto the bed.

“You’re staying.” It’s not really a question, more of a confirmation.

You nod once and Simon’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip. That soft touch is enough to part your lips, and Simon makes a noise deep in his throat that sounds like a groan.

“Take me in your mouth,” he rasps. “Like you did last night.”

Your hands find the top of his joggers. Sliding beneath the band, you wiggle them down until the base of his cock appears. You pull a bit more, and then it’s free, already hard with a tiny bead of cum blooming in the slit. Your tongue darts out, swiping it up.

Simon shivers, and his hold on your neck adjusts to grasp the back of your head. He doesn’t haul you against him, or force himself down your throat. He is waiting for you, and that action in and of itself is enough to get you to stay a bit longer.

The head of his cock slides over your tongue and you throat him deep. Simon’s eyelids flutter and his groan is sweet. You bottle it up for later with the intention of recreating that sound—to make him moan like that again.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Sunday mornings are lazy mornings.

Some of the alcohol from last night still lingers in your pores, leaving a tightness behind your eyes and at your temples. But it’s not all that relevant.

Right now, you’re floating. There’s a man between your thighs. Well, his head anyway. And his tongue is doing all sorts of things to you.

Kyle’s tongue lazily flicks back and forth over your clit while he pumps two fingers in and out of your pussy. He is in no rush. No hurry. He’s taking his time, and you’re in blissful motion, hips rocking against his tongue, meeting his fingers with each thrust.

He groans softly against your pussy just before he sucks your clit into his mouth. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, and your back arches off the bed. Kyle’s name is on your lips. A repetition you cannot cease.

Even with your orgasm blossoming, you feel his smile against your skin. Kyle is smug that he’s done this to you.

What a way to start the day.

Kyle’s fingers slip from your body, and then he’s pushing up, reaching for the box of condoms on the bedside table. He snatches one up, tearing it open quickly.

“How do you want me?” you murmur, not trusting your voice. It’s still hoarse from sleep and the smokes you accepted last night.

Kyle rolls on the condom. His skin is glossy with sweat. The two of you have hardly slept. You thought this would be a quick fuck but it’s something else. Kyle takes his time, and that has drawn this one-night stand out into an all-night fucking marathon.

“You’re good as you are, love,” coos Kyle, settling between your legs again. You both groan aloud when he slides home.

It’s the next day. You should be out of this bed. You should be doing your usual walk-of-shame, and yet you’re still in Kyle’s bed, full of his cock, and completely strung out on orgasms.

“Promise I’ll let you rest after this,” he murmurs, testing with a roll of his hips.

You almost laugh. “You said that the last two times,” you moan as he hits somewhere deep.

“Did I?” he asks, absently.

Kyle is sweet, but he knows how to make you yearn. It’s agony. And it’s fucking beautiful. This isn’t how any of this is supposed to go and yet here you are, getting dicked down by a man who is clearly beyond simple hook-ups.

This man is boyfriend material, and even as your mind starts to drift back into a lustful haze, it’s scheming of ways to keep him.

Shifting slightly, Kyle adjusts your legs, setting a pace that makes each stroke divine. Perhaps it’s the fact that you’re exhausted that it feels so goddamn good. And maybe the two of you will actually rest after this.

The birds are chirping, and traffic is already moving. It’s the morning after, and yet the night seems to have been unending.

Kyle leans forward, and then your lips are connecting. Each kiss is deep. Tender. It’s unfair how nice this is. It shouldn’t be like this, and yet it is, and that makes it all the more painful when you do finally leave. This is not your home. It is his.

This is just an agreement made in a smoky pub. Nothing more.

“Kyle,” you moan, drawing his name out as your orgasm crests.

He smiles against your mouth, his pace stuttering out as the rest of him starts to tense.

“Almost there, love. Promise.” That word, promise, is strained. Kyle’s eyelids flutter, and then he too finds his end.

In the muted dark, the two of you exchange breaths. A car honks outside but it’s a muted thing. You’re hardly paying attention.

“Can we rest now?” you ask. It’s almost a laugh, but it’s also cautious. Maybe rest just means rest for him, and you’re about to be kicked to the curb.

“Yeah,” he smiles, rolling onto his back. Kyle reaches down to remove the condom before pushing himself out of bed and into the bathroom. The light flicks on. Water runs. And then Kyle returns with a damp cloth.

“Open those legs for me.”

You do so obediently, and Kyle patiently cleans you up before returning the cloth to the bathroom.

When he returns, the words tumble out of you unexpectantly. “I just need a couple hours and then I’ll go.”

Kyle frowns as he slides back into the bed. “You don’t need to rush out of here.”

You don’t need to rush out of here.

“I don’t want to bother—” Kyle shakes his head and you cease speaking.

“Come here,” he murmurs, offering himself. You slide up next to him, and Kyle wraps his arms around your body, dragging you into his chest.

Your lips begin to form words but Kyle makes a grunt and you promptly close your mouth. Kyle has you locked in his arms, and it’s comfortable. Normal. This is all too personal, and yet Kyle doesn’t seem to mind.

Maybe you could make this into something else.

Maybe this is him offering more.

Whatever it is, the concept fractures, slipping away as the warmth and comfort of him lulls you to sleep.

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[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ꒱ 이민형

summary : one thing about your boyfriend, mark, is that he would always take care of you — even if you were annoyingly drunk — and he was embarrassingly in love

genre : fluff, mark x afab!reader, slice of life tws : language, kissing, mentions of alcohol, pet names author notes : oh he’d be a good boyfriend i just know it word count : 1k

it’s a good thing the elevator in your apartment hadn’t gone out yet, otherwise the man on your arm would’ve been upset—though he’d never let you know that.

he just loved you too much for that. and you kept telling him about how much of a good night it was for you; he’d never dream of ruining that.

“baby,” he stated quietly, pulling your arm around his waist higher, as it kept slipping. “hold on, just a little longer… why’d you have to live on the 10th floor? thank god the elevator isn’t out. is the view really worth it though?” he watched the numbers climb, illuminated electronically above the door.

your eyebrows furrowed, and though you were hunched against him, you willed your head up. deadpanning, you replied. “duh.” to which he just laughed at. “you just don’t get it mark! have you seen it? it’s beautiful! not more than you, but you know.”

“many times—actually, i helped you move in, baby.”

you giggled, head falling into his side. “y-yeah, you did… do you remember haechan falling up the stairs? he wasn’t even carrying anything heavy! oh my god, it was so funny i swear i peed my pants!”

mark thought that, for a drunk girl, you were very good at not sounding slurred with your words. however, standing or walking in a straight line were two very different tasks for you to accomplish in this state. but he thought it was cute that you thought of him to pick you up and make sure you got home safely. he loved that you loved him so much; shared so many memories with him and were still willing to make more. and truthfully, he loved you more.

the elevator dinged, the voice telling you that the doors were now opening. mark braced his arm around you tighter, hiking you up to be, at least a little, straighter.

you trudged along, holding him back with his attempts to keep a steady pace. you knew it was difficult to move on your own accord in your current state but, honestly you could’ve just fallen asleep on the floor if you fell.

“work—with—me—here, y/n. please,” he gritted, practically dragging your giggling figure. “do you even want to sleep in your own bed?”

your eyes narrowed soberly. “are you staying?”

“will that make you walk faster?”

as if possessed, the thought alone was enough to make you straighten your back and begin willing your legs to move—clumsily, but you knew your boyfriend was still a crutch to make sure you didn’t hit the floor.

he laughed in disbelief, then relief once you two finally had made it to your numbered door; mark putting in the passcode and it chiming with satisfaction.

“you scare me sometimes, baby.”

you hopped in place, the door swinging open with the length of his arm. you slumped against the wall, unhooking the strap of your heels and kicking them off.

“let’s go to bed!” and when you were about take off down the hall, a hand grabbed yours and stopped you—your feet comically still stomping in place. your eyebrows furrowed, and you looked over your shoulder in confusion.

“first,” he started, leading you down the hall; for a moment you thought he just didn’t want you to run, but he turned off into your bathroom. he hit the switch and illuminated the room, your eyes shutting instinctively. “your makeup.”

you whined, trying to get out of his grip. “no.”

“you’ll kill me in the morning, babe,” he grabbed your waist, hoisting you onto the counter and trapping you with his body. “it won’t take long.”

your pinky swung from the porcelain and into his view, “promise.” you weren’t asking, and that made him laugh.

his pinky connected with yours. “promise.” he replied adamantly, mimicking your movement and kissing the end of his balled fist.

he got to work, grabbing the remover and a couple cotton rounds. he gently swiped your skin, and you swear your head kept drifting to the side with tiredness. you couldn’t help that your boyfriend was the sole reason you could get a good-nights sleep. instead of trying to keep you up, he grabbed it, huffing out another laugh at your antics, but letting you fully fall asleep in his hand.

mark admired you as he tried his best to get the mascara off, smudging it and making you look a little foolish. he thought you were cute; the way your lips were parted, small snores leaving them. the slight crease of your brows as he put your moisturizer and serums on. he swears he could feel his heart swell, knowing you were just that comfortable around him—so adamant to have him by your side—to have him love you.

and he did.

he loved you so fucking much. his future was you. if he was your world, you were his sun. you were his lifeline. you were the one person he knew he could rely on without contest. if he was a producer, you were his muse. everything revolved around you. even if his thoughts weren’t originally for you, they’d eventually make their way back to you. he was excited to talk to you about anything and everything. he was blindsided by a love as strong as this mutual one. he’d die for you, and that’s why he lives.

honestly, he was so embarrassingly emotional right now for you, he could feel the tears welling up.

he swallowed the lump in his throat, grabbing the other side of your head and watching as you blinked blearily.

you smiled sleepily. “when’d you get here, baby?”

he could feel your arms climb to be around his neck, pulling him and simultaneously pushing yourself to get body-to-body. you always craved the warmth (even without thinking) like you were cold-blooded.

“i’m always here.” he kissed the side of your mouth, whispering against your lips. “now, let’s go to bed?”

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[dilemmaontwolegs]

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {9}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: You finally find out just how perfect your boyfriends are as birthing partners. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, all the birthing glory one can expect (it’s not a pretty thing irl) WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go One

You woke up to too much warmth but the thrill that shot through you washed away all lingering sense of sleep. Charles and Lando were curled around you having arrived home sometime during the night, replacing the giant Pokemon teddy that was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor beside Lando. 

“Lan,” you whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. A deep groan exhaled with a snore before he slowly blinked his eyes open and found you grinning down at him. “There’s my Winner.”

His smile was drowsy as he rolled onto his back and pulled you into his arms so your head could rest on his chest. His steady heartbeat thumped against your ear and you didn’t realise how quiet the nights had been without hearing that sound beneath your head. 

“Did it for you, babe.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm, I had to do something big to make sure you didn’t forget me while we were gone.”

“Showoff.” You giggled and draped a leg over his, cozying up as much as you comfortably could. “I missed you.”

“Missed you. Glad to see you are in one piece too. I knew my little girl would wait patiently for us to get home.” Lando carefully unwrapped himself from you and shuffled down the bed, brushing up the oversized Quadrant shirt you had stolen from his new merch line. “You can come out anytime now, sweetheart. The sooner the better, if you are ready. Please be ready.”

Lando waited a moment to see if he would get a kick in response but there was nothing and he sighed as he flopped back onto the pillow. “Silent treatment already.”

“She’s probably still sleeping,” you said as you kissed his disappointed frown. “You should go back to sleep too, baby.”

You carefully climbed over him but he caught your hips and trapped you straddling him. You couldn’t see clear enough in the dim light but you were sure his eyes were darkening as he hummed happily. “Can’t sleep with you teasing me like that.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I was trying to get up to go pee.” You wiggled enough for him to bite his lip before swinging your leg off and dashing to the bathroom while he groaned at the loss of your body. 

“That wasn’t very nice,” you heard him whine as you closed the door. You would not miss the rapid fire bathroom breaks that came with the last trimester, that was for certain. 

The relief of emptying your bladder was short lived as you wiped and the loud sound of disgust you made had a thump sounding on the bedroom floor before quick feet sprinted into the bathroom, busting the door wide open. Lando squinted against the bright light before finding you still sat on the toilet with the tissue paper still in your hand. 

“What’s wrong? Is that blood? Shit, Charles!”

“Stop!” you hissed before he woke your mother up from her room down the hall. “It’s not…blood…at least I don’t think so…”

Charles skidded into the bathroom looking absolutely dishevelled as he tried to take in what he was seeing. “Amour, what’s wrong?”

“I think I’ve lost my mucus plug.”

“Mucus plug…” he murmured, rubbing his tired eyes as he mentally scanned the pregnancy books he had read with Lando. 

“Yes!” Lando shouted, his hand turning to an enthusiastic fist. “That means you might be going into labour soon.”

Charles’ eyes widened with excitement and they embraced each other with a laugh, proudly chatting about how their daughter was a good girl waiting for them to come home. 

“Excuse me,” you interrupted, clearing your throat. “Can I have some privacy?”

They looked a little sheepish and backed out of the bathroom, closing the door so you could finish your routine. It was only when you were washing your hands, facing yourself in the mirror that you saw the excitement in your own eyes. Praying the old wives tale was right, you dried your hands and stepped back into the bedroom. 

The bedside lamps glowed warmly and a cosy space was created for you on a mountain of pillows between the two men who nearly vibrated with anticipation. “Please don’t get your hopes up, it may still take days,” you said as you crawled up the bed.

“I know,” Lando replied while he fretted about getting the pillows in the right place to support your back and belly, as well as one between your knees. “You should try get as much sleep as possible while you can.”

Charles smiled at the doting father-to-be, falling even more in love with him. Lando had always been portrayed as the carefree one and the most immature driver on the grid, but this was the side the tv show never aired. Lando was a caretaker and a homemaker at heart, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for those he loved. 

When Lando looked up after tucking the blankets in around you he found Charles staring at him and lifted a brow in question. Charles just smiled and shook his head. “I am the luckiest man.” 

A smirk kicked up on Lando’s lips as he pointedly looked over you and him. “Debatable.”

“We are the luckiest men,” Charles compromised with a laugh before brushing his knuckles softly over your relaxed face. 

“Yes, we are.”

“Charles, can you come help me?” 

The shower was steaming up after spending the last 15 minutes unsuccessfully shaving. The cloud of steam cleared out when he opened the glass door but as soon he saw the position you had got yourself into he barked out a laugh that drew Lando into the bathroom too. 

“Har-har, laugh it up,” you drawled. “I’m not having my baby’s first introduction to the world through a forest, now can one of you please help me?”

“Mon amour, I am sure women were giving birth before these were invented,” he said as he accepted the bright pink razor with an uncertain look on his face. “You don’t have to…uh…landscape.”

“Lando, will you please get rid of this bush before I call in the professionals?”

He was still eyeing up the length of your leg you had managed to kick up onto the lowest recessed shelf that had a few half empty bottles of shampoos knocked over. Even with the position you hadn’t been able to reach around your belly to get to the place you wanted to. “Who are the professionals?” he asked curiously as he took the razor off Charles and got down on his knees. “Kika?”

“Of course.”

“I’ll never understand female friendships,” Charles chuckled, leaning back against the tiled wall to critique Lando. Your main focus was on balancing and keeping as still as possible because you did not want to get cut in such a delicate area - though it couldn’t be worse than what you had read about episiotomies during delivery. “Shave with the hair, same direction.”

“Sorry, not all of us have to shave daily,” Lando muttered sarcastically before holding the razor out. “Why don’t you do it then?”

Charles rolled his eyes but took it and knelt beside Lando. “Can you…?” You couldn’t see what he gestured to Lando but you got a fair idea when you felt Lando’s hands working with Charles to keep the skin taut, and mortifyingly, when he parted your folds to get the stray hairs that grew there. 

“I never want to talk about this,” you said as they both rose up and shared a laugh. 

“You might want to start trying to kick start labour then,” Lando teased. “You have about five days before it’s time for another trim.”

“If you have any ideas, I am all ears.”

As it turned out, his idea to kick starting labour was actually what had got you pregnant in the first place. Though you felt breathless and bloated, sex was a good way of distracting yourself of what was going to come because whether you were ready or not, a baby could not stay in utero forever. 

“Are you sure?” Charles asked when Lando suggested turning the lights down low and locking the bedroom door. They were both more than eager to reacquaint themselves with your body after being away but Charles was certain Lando had just made it up as an excuse to get laid. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I know I’m horny but it’s also true.”

You had let them towel dry you after washing away the shaving cream and let them bicker about the merits of the idea while you climbed onto the bed. You had been planning on getting up for the day after your shower but now that you were again in the soft sheets you realised how much more comfortable it was on your back. 

“...nipple stimulation, see, says it right here.”

You did a small ab crunch to peek over your stomach and saw Lando and Charles comparing their phones, but the small pressure the movement put on your belly caused a strange sensation between your legs. Warm liquid leaked over your thighs and onto the sheets and you thought you couldn’t get anymore embarrassed as you scrunched the sheets tight around your body. 

“Can I have a moment alone?” you asked quietly, their faces freezing at the question that interrupted their discussion on best positions to start with.

“Pourquoi? You know it won’t hurt the baby, you don’t have to worry, amour.”

“It’s not that,” you muttered, self-consciously hiding deeper in the covers.

“Don’t be shy, baby, you are still the most beautiful woman.”

You swallowed twice with your dry throat and shook your head as tears began to roll down your cheeks. “Please?”

“Non, what’s wrong?” They both stepped closer and froze when you cried even more, confusion, hurt, worry all flitting across their faces.

“I wet myself,” you whispered as you hid your face, “and I can’t move.”

Their phones were abandoned, all thoughts of lust erased for good reason as you waited for disgust to replace it. “You run the shower and I’ll change the sheets,” Charles said, taking charge. “Come on, amour, let’s get you cleaned up.”

“I can’t move,” you said with a vehement shake of your head. “It keeps leaking out.”

“Uh, baby,” Lando said as he reached for the sheets clutched in your hands. “That sounds like your waters have broken.”

The plans changed quickly when you finally loosened your grip enough to let Lando pull them away. The damp spot was much smaller than your mind had made you believe but when they helped you to stand up a full torrent of it gushed out. 

“Yup, time to call the midwife,” Lando said aloud as he confirmed you wouldn’t have to die of embarrassment. 

“On it,” Charles answered as he made the call while getting dressed. Lando still followed his first order and helped you back to the shower while Charles spoke in French, too quick for you to understand. 

By the time you had been washed for the second time in under an hour Charles had gathered the hospital bag and laid out some clothes for you and Lando. The bedsheets had also been stripped and dumped in the corner of the room but you still spotted the wet patch on the carpet beside the bed. 

“I’ll have someone clean it up before we get home,” Charles assured you with a kiss to your temple. “We should go tell your mother that it’s time.”

She reacted as expected, a squeal of happiness, a strong hug, a touch of worry, before more excited laughs. Parking at the hospital was always a nightmare so the plan was for her to drop you off outside the maternity ward and go to Pascale’s to wait for updates with her. 

Phones rang and messages beeped to the point you told everyone to put their phones on silent. As much as you were happy to hear the best wishes and updated on Lando’s family travelling from England, the sounds were messing with your concentration. 

It didn't feel like long but by the time you were dressed, the car was packed, you had chosen your snacks and your immediate family were contacted, almost two hours had passed. In those two hours the tight feeling in your back was getting more painful and no matter what position you were in, sitting or standing, there was no easing the aching pressure on your belly.

“Baby, come see this,” Lando called out, pointing to Max’s apartment. You shuffled your way to him with Charles offering his arm to steady your steps and found a large banner spread across your brother’s balcony. 

MODE: PUSH!

Despite the pain, you laughed as you saw him waving from the other tower apartment. You waved back before letting Charles guide you back inside. You took one last look around the apartment as you headed to the front door, knowing the next time you stepped foot inside it would no longer be just the three of you. The next time you returned, everything would change.

It seemed too easy. The hours passed by with the numbing assistance of gas and air, and the shadows crossed the room as morning turned to afternoon. The birthing pool became your favourite space to relax until you were a wrinkled prune. Floating in the tepid water took the weight of your belly off your spine and Charles had a cloth that he dipped in and used to wipe the sweat from your forehead.

“Open up, baby,” Lando said softly as he took a seat at the edge of the oversized bath and held a fresh ice chip up to your lips.

Doctor Turner had arrived not long after the hospital midwives had settled you into the room and announced you were 5cm dilated. You thought that meant you were halfway but time seemed to slow in response. The doctor that had been your regular OB GYN since moving to Monaco was happy to take a backseat and let Lando and Charles take care of you. She actually seemed quite impressed with them, not as much as you were.

“Is it okay if we dim the lights?” Lando asked. He had noticed your eyes squinting against the harsh fluorescents overhead and Doctor Turner reached for the switch that was behind her makeshift desk she had taken up by the door. Her hand jotted down notes, twisting her wrist to check the time on her watch before writing more.

“That’s better,” you sighed as you opened your eyes and looked up at your boyfriends. “It’s a shame there’s no jets in this jacuzzi.”

Charles chuckled and dragged the wet cloth over your shoulders and collar. “You make this sound like a spa date, ma chérie.”

“You didn’t happen to bring a face mask, did you?” you teased.

“Sorry, wasn’t on the checklist,” Lando replied with a snort. “Do you want music on again?”

“I never would have pegged you to be a mother hen,” you murmured as you shook your head and smiled. “I’m okay right now.”

Another hour passed and that calm state soon came to an end as the contractions grew stronger, strong enough to take your breath away, and Charles had to remind you to inhale and exhale slowly. The plastic pipe full of gas started to dent beneath your gritted teeth as you bit down with each contraction and groaned deeply. The sound had Doctor Turner rising from her chair to check how far along you were.

Your self consciousness had recessed to the back of your mind as you focused solely on what you body was doing. It was almost the same tunnel vision you had when you were racing and the rest of the world faded away from the track in front of you. You didn’t even blink when her gloved hand dipped into the water and disappeared between your legs.

“Would you like to move to the bed? You’ll be ready to push soon.”

You shook your head as another wave of pressure clamped down on your abdominal muscles, contorting them until it felt like they were going to snap. Just as quickly as it came on the contraction ended and the pain vanished as you slumped back against the pool edge. Water splashed over the lip but Charles and Lando didn’t even notice as they flexed their hands you had clenched tight.

“Can I stay in here?”

“Of course,” she said with a reassuring smile as she took her gloves off. “We are going to do whatever is most comfortable for you.”

She went back to add the latest note to her records but rather than sitting down she returned back to the edge of the bath, a fresh pair of gloves on her hands and a towel on her lap.

“When you said soon…?” you trailed off as another painful contraction began and it felt like your body was going to split in two.

“Do you feel the urge to push?” she asked as she leaned over the edge to look.

You couldn’t answer her as your feet found purchase on the bath walls and braced, your body bearing down on its own accord. An arm curled under each of yours, holding you up as you pushed with more effort than any of the workouts Kristian had ever put you through.

“Lovely head of dark hair,” she said with a grin as the contraction ended and both of your boyfriends couldn’t resist taking a peek.

For all his bravado at preparing himself, Lando blanched a bit and they both shot back up.

“When the next contraction starts, I want you to give me a really big push, okay?”

You were exhausted, and you were sweating. God, you hated how it clung to your skin and warmed with your body heat. You just wanted to sleep.

“You’re doing great, Spitfire. It’s nearly over. Just a little more, baby.”

Charles washed your face and neck with cool water, and you realised you had spoken aloud.

There was no warning or build up as your muscles contracted and you folded over yourself, crunching up as you screwed your eyes closed and pushed. It felt futile. All the effort of the last couple of hours had nothing to show and you didn’t think you were anywhere near being finished. The painful stretch between your legs had you ready to tap out and ask for something stronger but then the pressure flooded from you and the breath you held whooshed out with it.

“Here she is,” Doctor Turner exclaimed as she lifted the tiny form out of the water and carefully laid her on your chest before draping the warm towel over the both of you. She gently rubbed your daughter and by the third pat a warbling cry filled the air.

It was only then that you could breathe. Suddenly you were present once again in your body and you could hear the soft cries echoed by Lando and Charles’ happy sniffles.

“She’s beautiful,” you whispered through your hoarse throat.

As if she recognised your voice, her little eyes peeked open and her cries settled. Flecks of gold broke through a myriad of green shades reminding you of when summer ended and the trees began to change colour and fall.

“Did you have a name picked out?”

You shook your head, unable to tear your eyes away from hers until your vision blurred and you had to blink away the tears. “I think I know one.”

“Yeah?” Lando asked as he carefully caressed her cheek like she was the most precious thing in the world. “What is it?”

“Autumn.” You looked up to see them both smiling at the name, your heart doing a little jump. “Autumn Norris-Leclerc.”

“It’s perfect, mon amour,” Charles agreed with a nod as he kissed your temple. “Princesse Autumn.”

“Ha!” Lando suddenly exclaimed, drawing everyone’s attention to him and his proud grin - but it was aimed at Charles. “Told you my pullout game was better than yours.”

Click here for the next part.

[mommypieck]

𑄽୧ age gap with nanami 𔓘 ᰍ

kinktober day 5: my daddy!!!

✯⁠ nanami kento x reader

✯⁠ warnings: brief dubcon, crying, spanking, doggy, rough sex, p in v

"Are you there, Mr. Kento?" you yell from the door, entering it without even waiting for a response. He sits there at his desk, clearly not paying attention to you. he turns his head when he sees you walk in.

"What's up, y/n ?" he asks as he turns his chair around to face you. Your cheeks turn red, and you say in the most innocent voice ever, "I've been craving you, Kento."

Nanami looks at you confused, he knows what college girls think about and stuff they do, but he never expected it from you. You walk up to him, throwing yourself on his lap.

"What are you doing, y/n ?" he asks you with a panicked voice, trying to push you off him. You stay seated in his lap, running your hands through his hair.

"I know you want it, Kento," you whisper in his ear, licking at his neck. he moans at the touch of your tongue, his head falling back. You can see how hard he tries to resist your touch, but he fails miserably.

"Y/n, if you don't stop right now. I'm gonna call the cops," he warns you, and the look he gives you makes you even wetter. He's so cute when he's trying to be intimidating. You climb off his lap, chuckling at yourself when he stays seated. You swing your hips in front of him, unbuttoning the oversized shirt you're wearing. You let it fall to the ground, revealing that you're not wearing anything underneath. His pupils widen at the sight in front of him. It's been so time since he had a naked woman next to him, let alone as beautiful as you. You bend over in front of him, and he has to invert his eyes, his pants getting too tight for his liking. He wants to call himself a coward for not backing out, but he can't move. The thing you said is true, he wants you.

"Do you like what you see?" you ask, and he finally looks at you. Nanami moans just at the sight. You're on the ground before him, ass in the air. Your talented fingers play with the wetness while you smirk at him. You're a slut, that's all you are. A dirty slut who wants to get fucked by an older man, more specifically, her best friend's father.

"oh Kento, come fuck me." you moan dramatically as you get on your back, spreading your legs again. Your feet bump into his chest, and you kick him lightly, giggling. He knows he's about to snap if you don't stop right now. Your feet settle on his crotch, running up and down his hard-on.

"You're so hard for me-"

"That's it." he groans. You feel yourself getting dragged up by his strong arms before being thrown over his lap. You yelp when his hand comes down on your ass - hard. He spanks you over and over, not stopping no matter how hard you plead.

"Kento, stop please." you cry out, trying to crawl away from his lap. He doesn't listen instead he brings his hand down on your ass harder.

"I can't believe my daughter is friends with a slut like you," he says, and you involuntary moan at the sentence.

"That's what I thought." he snorts, massaging your butt. He pushes you out of his lap, and you fall on the ground next to his feet.

"Bend over the table," he orders, and you do what he asks with wobbly knees. You try to stand, but your front falls against the table.

"That's what bad girls get," he says, standing behind you. You hear his zipper go down, and you salivate in anticipation. The head of his cock runs through your folds before he slides right in. You knew he was big but didn't think he would be this hard to take.

"What's that? Can't take me?" he laughs, slapping your ass again. Your cheek presses against the table, and your whole body hurts even though he isn't moving inside you. he thrusts in, and your eyes roll back. He's not sweet, he fucks you like you deserve it. It's true, he's too big for you to handle, but he also feels so good.

"Are you crying?" he asks you when he notices a wet spot on the table. You can't answer with your eyes clouded with tears and saliva falling from your mouth. He broke you. You feel yourself falling, and you're close to fainting, but this is what you asked for.

"get up, whore. I'm not done with you."

taglist: @mcharris747 @huuuuut30 @krispsprite @bejewelledd @cawwn @veryninjanacho @jamayah @dngerwayz @nwptune @universlypiratecolor @ffakegucci @merachannie @d1lf-luvr @th3girln3xtdoor @nobody289x @iheartpieck @gia999 @kawasgirl @st4rrlighttt @candyeyeroll @7haze @banchangsbbbg @nigthmar3moon @softlilpeachxx @d1gitalbathh @jaenniii

@satorustar @balenciagarette @grosspube

[wileys-russo]

mary earps, out shopping, “remind me why i agreed to have those two idiots as my other children?” (lessi and tooney)

part of the a date to remember universe m.earps II we don't know them

"do they really have to come?" mary groaned as she pulled up out front, sighing heavily as you nodded. "we've been away for nearly two weeks. they probably missed you!" you teased pinching her cheek as she mocked you under her breath.

"i missed aunty lessi and aunty tooney!" delilah piped up from the back, swinging her legs with a cheshire like grin plastered on her face. "so did I tiny. mama did too, she just thinks she's too cool to admit it." you patted your wifes shoulder who rolled her eyes.

"did you tell them we're here? we're going to be late!" mary checked her watch with a huff as you quirked an eye in amusement. "can't be late to do the shopping mama." delilah beat you to it with a giggle as you looked back proudly.

"watch it kid or you'll lose your trolley privileges." mary warned fixing your daughter with a look through the rear view mirror. "so dramatic mary!" delilah parroted your own words from this morning as you slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

though before the goalkeeper could say anything back there was knocks at her window and she jumped a half foot in the air, scowling at the smirking brunette who winked and climbed into the car.

"where's alessia? for god sakes!" mary groaned head thumping back against her headrest. "for god sakes!" delilah mocked doing the same thing as her head thumped against the back of her car seat and she only giggled as mary shot her a dirty look.

"we're still in the parrot phase." you explained to ella who nodded in understanding, a flash of blonde hair hurrying down the driveway and diving into the car. "sorry! couldn't find my other sock." alessia huffed wrestling on her shoe as mary rolled her eyes.

"see? i told you we could go away for two years and these idiots wouldn't change." mary mumbled under her breath as you squeezed her knee, the taller girl huffing and leaning across to kiss your cheek in a silent apology starting the car back up.

with the other two in the car now the time flew past as delilah caught them up on the adventures of your last two weeks away in mallorca on holiday, both girls listening attentively with oo's of wonder.

"hello children." you finally greeted them both with a hug and a smile as you arrived to the grocery store, jumping out of the car as mary ignored them both and unclipped delilah.

"whats up marys ass this mornin? she got blue balls or somethin?" ella whispered with a wink as alessia shoved her with a dissaproving shake of her head. "something like that." you chuckled, marys plans of a romantic night together now you weren't sharing a room with your daughter ruined by the daughter in question refusing to sleep in her own bed and you not making her.

"we can stop the co-sleeping tomorrow. come on baby, family cuddles!" you denied marys request to remove delilah who was already fast asleep curled into your side, your wife sighing heavily but knowing this wasn't something worth arguing.

but a restless night with little feet kicking into her ribs every ten minutes or a tiny hand smacking her cheek and wriggling around meant it was one without much sleep, meaning a very grumpy mary this morning.

"mary. baby come on, your nose is so long its almost hitting the ground." you poked at your wifes side as alessia and ella hurried off ahead, swinging delilah between them.

"only things on the list!" mary called warning the trio as alessia gave a thumbs up, handing the piece of paper to your daughter who was now happily sat in a trolley, the three of them disappearing into the aisles.

"come on earps, give us a smile." you jostled your wife as she grabbed a trolley for your own list. "not in the mood." the goalkeeper warned but made no move to let go as you slipped your hand into hers.

"well, maybe later you can get in the mood." you smiled suggestively, the taller girl looking down at you with a frown. "i didn't invite ella and less just for a catch up. if we buy them lunch and butter them up a little, i'm sure they'd love to take delilah for a sleepover tonight." you quirked an eyebrow, grinning as mary's face lit up.

"my god woman, you're a genius." mary grabbed your face, kissing all over it as you laughed. "yeah yeah tell me something i don't know. i'm offended you seem so surprised!" you poked her accusingly before starting off toward the fruit and vegetables, having given delilah all the 'fun' food knowing she'd whinge about the healthier things.

"mary!" you hissed as her hand caught your ass, your complaints swallowed by the kiss she stole with a charming smile. "it slipped." she winked, reaching over your head to grab a punnet of strawberries.

you were both almost done with your part of the list when you heard a horrendously loud crash the aisle over and winced, sharing a knowing look.

"please tell me that isn't ours." you mumbled, the pair of you slowly heading toward the source of the noise. "i can tell you but you can't get mad at me for lying." mary sighed at the sight which met you, a bright red alessia apologizing profusely to a store employee as ella wiped off delilah who was coated in flower, her own body caked with white as well.

you met alessia's eyes over the employee's shoulder, feeling mary slip her hand back into yours.

"remind me why i agreed to have those two idiots as my other children? "pretend we don't know them?" "darling you read my mind."

"oi you two get back here!"

[shutit-haha]

"Katsuki," you swayed, "I think I might have been roofied."

"What!?" He gives himself whiplash from how fast he turns, neck cracking and muscles giving a slight pull. The two of you are in some damn frat house because someone invited you and you REALLY wanted to go. Knowing full well that you would stay here for an hour tops, half-hour if everything was already in full swing. This was certainly knew though, I mean 45 minutes in and you've been ROOFIED!

"I said," you leaned against him. Closing your eyes and attempting to take deep breaths even though those very same breaths seemed to make it feel worse. "Sorry Kat," you grabbed at him tightly with your hand. "My stomach's getting all swirly."

He goes into full fucking panic mode. His large hands wraps around your arm a little too tightly dragging you into the crowd with him. He's moving like a fucking linebacker just shoving whoever's in his way. The blonde takes a sharp left turn around a corner yanking you into a hallway with him. The lights here are shut off making it damn near pitch black. His shoulder slams into strangers making out and dry humping and the two of you cringe at the moans that come from the many bedrooms. The floor underneath your feet is sticky, and with the way you feel right now it's a fight just to rip yourself off the wood. Your muscles feel heavy, eyes barely open. The world keeps swirling and spinning, bright colors popping out at you even in the darkness. There's this terrible throbbing between your legs, making your thighs tremble slightly.

"Kat," you whine. He kicks open the bathroom door throwing out the couple currently occupying the space.

"Yea," he gently guides you over to the toilet bowl. "Wait actually don't fucking touch anything in here, it's all disgusting. Bastards don't know how to fuckin act." He's tugging you out into the hallway again, the couple from just a few seconds ago scurrying back in.

"Katsuki," your legs are struggling to keep up. You feel weak in the knees, stumbling over yourself as a result. Your hearing comes and goes, a war between absolute silence and migraine inducing noise. "Bakugo I can't," air escapes you in huffed breaths. "I can't keep up, please," you beg him.

The blonde -still rushing for a reason you don't understand anymore- scoops you up in his arms. "I'm gonna get that shit out of your system, and kill that asshole. Fuckin scum, piece of shit doesn't deserve to walk the earth." He grumbles clutching on to you even tighter. Your brain is so fuzzy you giggle at his silly words. "What," he looks down at you for a quick second.

"Hot, Kat. Tired," you yawn. Moving with large strides Bakugo carries the two of you out of the fraternity. You shiver the moment the cool air hits your sweating skin. "Cold," you whine curling into him and wrapping tightly around his neck. The poor man chokes with the grip you've got him in. How the hell is he expected to breath in a condition like this?! Not only that but you're pressed flush against him with the way you've twisted yourself around.

"HAH, didn't you jus' fuckin say you where hot?!"

"I'm hot on the inside Katsuki," you screech and wail. You say it like it's common knowledge and it kills him a little. "Wait," your hands fly outward. "I got throw up." The man damn near drops you, only half careful of how he's handling you. Your feet hit the ground and you bend at the ankles and then knees. Just as you're situated it all hurls itself back up. It's ok though, because he's here to hold back your hair for you.

"Gotta get your dumbass home," he mumbles under his breath. You whine bringing your hand up to your mouth to wipe away the mess, only for Bakugo to grab at your wrist. "Don't you fuckin' dare, that shit's gross."

"How am I supposed to clean myself," you look up at him with big blown pupils. Your lashes leave long shadows on your face from the streetlight, lips puffy from whatever drug was forced into your system. There's water lining the bottom of your eyes, a result from emptying your guts, and you're still so hot.

"Just hold on a minute, dammit." His head whips around in search of something, though to no one's surprise there's not much to clean with on the front lawn. His eyes fix onto the door, resignation settling in. "Don't you fucking move from here," he points down at you aggressively. "Do you understand?"

You nod absentmindedly, hand coming up to your mouth once again.

"Don't do that shit! Just sit still dammit, I'll be right back." He hates having to run back into that fucking mess of a party. It reeks worse than it did before, the odor much more noticeable after breathing in some fresh fucking air. He fears that if he makes the wrong step he'll roll his ankle from the sticky floor, and then theirs all the bodies. These jiggling, sweaty bodies, in sync and yet still so far off beat. He's quick, bulldozing through all those extras to get to where he's going. You've been fucking drugged by one of these damn creeps and part of Bakugo worries that they'll find you while you're all alone out there.

"Katsuki," big gooey smile, when he emerges back outside. A shiver racks through him, the cold catching him off guard. He immediately steels himself right afterward determined not to let it happen again. "Katsuki," you sing, "kat-suki, suki, kat. kat, suki," you giggle and then smile. You're clearly out of your damn mind, body rocking back and forth while your hands grip onto your ankles tightly. You look like a fucking kindergartener, at the thought of that he snorts.

"Here," he throws the whole paper towel roll at you.

"Thank yoou," more singing, and an even bigger grin.

He only spares you a couple seconds to clean yourself before he's yanking you up onto your feet. The rough skin of his hand wraps around your elbow, and you stumble right into his side. The roll is hugged close to your buddy like some sort of stuffed animal, thighs pressed together tightly. "Can you carry me again?" Your eyes fall shut sleepily, cheek resting against his hard shoulder.

"Hah!?"

"Please," your hip presses against his now. "Please, I'll kiss you if you'll do it for me."

"Don't say that shit," his cheeks dust pink like a school boy.

You giggle, "I'll kiss you even if you don't pick me up." Paper towel roll still pressed against your chest, you lean into him lips grazing under his jaw. "I wanna kiss you," you hum breathing in his scent.

"Don't say that shit!"

"But I wanna kiss someone," you whine.

"Someone?"

"Anyone," you kiss the flesh at his jaw and neck.

"That shit's getting to you."

You nod absentmindedly again, placing another kiss on his warm skin. "Mhm, I think so."

"I'm taking you home," he bends at the knees slightly begrudgingly picking you up.

"Mmmm," you hum, "I like the sound of that."

He squeezes your thighs harshly receiving a slight hiss from you. "Gotta fucking behave if I'm gonna be doing this shit for you. Not gonna fucking baby you for you to be a brat."

Your arms wrap around his neck bringing yourself as close to him as possible. That damn paper towel roll still smooshed between the two of you. "Does that mean you're gonna punish me?" It was said so innocently, still made his cock twitch.

"Don't say that shit," he growls at you, jostling your body as a way of adjusting himself.

"I'm sorry," you kiss his neck, "I'm sorry."

"Don't do that shit either."

"But," you grind against his abs, "I need to feel something."

"Not me! Take care of yourself later," the thought of you touching yourself quickly popped into his head. Once again he was jostling you to adjust his pants.

"You feel so good," another innocent comment as you grind yourself against him.

"What's I say about behaving," he snaps at you.

"But you said to take care of myself."

"Later!"

"Are you gonna punish me now?"

Thank god the car was coming into view. "Oi! I'll fucking drop you!" He hakes his head, "the hells your obsession with that shit."

You shrug, "like how your hands feel on my ass." Another kiss to his neck, and then your hips jolt on their own grinding against his hard abs. This time you just can't stop yourself, the pit of your stomach feels like it's on fire and the way your muscles are contracting- you just have to. You need too.

"Hey," some part of his subconscious had clearly been paying attention to you. The part about his hands, and the punishment, because his hand came up and then down in one sudden slap. You could hear it whoosh in the air, and then that crackle when it met your rear. You stilled, moaning and arching your back. He nearly fucking dropped you, the one hand holding you completely unprepared for that hell of an arch.

"Fuck," you panted. Your lips kissed a trail up his neck and then nipped the skin behind his ear. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry d-" You bit your lip, suppressing what so desperately wanted to be said.

He fucking dropped you.

Your legs where shaky, knees buckling soon as your feet hit the floor. You expected to fall onto your knees just like you did on the lawn, but he slammed you up against the car. Your back roughly hit the metal, one hand keeping your hip trapped against it, the other hand keeping hold of your wrist. "You're driving me fucking crazy you know that," he spat in your face. His breath fanned against your skin, eyes burning. "I have no clue what that fucker gave you but-"

You kissed him, hips wiggly in his hand in search of friction. He bit your bottom lip, teeth sinking into plush, your back arched. "Fuck me, please. Please just fuck me, swear I'll stop after that. It'll make it stop just fuck me please just-"

He leaned back in, mouths smashing together, teeth clinking just before he forces his tongue in catching a taste of your mouth. Aphrodisiac, "bastard gave you a fucking rape drug."

You shake your head, hips wiggling with more vigor. "No want it," you breath heavily, "want it."

He shoves you aside, opening the passenger door for you, "just the drug."

"No," you're crying now. Hand venturing down to your waist band to give yourself some kind of relief. "Want you," you bite your lip when your hand grazes your clit. "I-" pant, "want you." All your weight is held up by the car, eyes shut to better see the fantasies. "Fuck," you groan.

He doesn't know what to do, he's kind of just watching you. It feels gross, feels wrong but, fuck he likes it. Mouth agape while you fuck yourself to him. It's not real. He's gonna wale up. It's just a wet dream, a movie.

"Wanted you since-" gulp, "that compression shirt, at the- at the gym." You whimper at that, "sweat, nipples were hard." Your eyes open all half lidded and hazy, pupils having consumed whatever color was once there. Your sclera isn't even visible anymore. "You're such a whore," as if your fucking pussy wasn't literally squelching right now.

That was it for him, you weren't gonna fucking insult him like that. As if you were some fucking saint. Yeah, right. He slams the passenger door shut, the back door flying open followed by him quickly shoving you into the car. Your back bounces on the leather seats, one hand quickly rushing to yank down your pants and underwear. The burly man climbs in right after you moving with quick hast, he shuts the door behind him with another loud slam.

"Keep that fucking mouth shut," hand squeezing a the sides of your throat. He's fucked once or twice, never like this. In the back of his car, cock aching, in such a hurry. With the way you were acting it seems like it's only take a couple strokes before you tapped out, you had already been edging yourself in a way. (I mean with you grinding and whatever else and him stopping you every other five seconds.)

He unbuttons his jeans, briefly thinking about turning on the air-conditioning only to decide against it. Fuck it, let the windows fog up. (That'd be new too.) Katsuki doesn't even unzip his pants he just tugs at the sides and forces the zipper to go down itself. You brely catch a glimpse of his boxers before those too are tugged down his muscled thighs. Damn gym rat.

He rudely slaps away the hand you have between your legs, only to smack his dick against your clit. "Condom," you mutter.

"Didn't I say to shut up," it's a nasty snarl, yet still you have the balls to smile at him.

"Please," you spread your legs for him.

"Didn't bring one," fuck please don't tell him this is what's gonna cock block him. He'll fucking destroy this car with the amount of anger that wants to blow. Yet you ever so seductively reach into your bra and pull one out.

"Here." You take it between your teeth tearing at the packaging while he pumps himself. You pass it over to him, the wrapper gracefully falling somewhere underneath the seat, condom rolled on in a blink. No prep, just his dick getting shoved into you.

It's a stretch, a painful, hissing stretch. Your tugging at his shirt pulling it off of him while you adjust, his hands sliding up and under to unhook your bra. "Move," it's a command, an order. And despite his big fucking ego, he listens to you. One large hand placed next to your head, the either forcing your shirt up as it ghost over your body. Your scratching at his back, and rubbing his scalp. It's an odd combo of pain and pleasure for the both of you as a result. "More," you're shouting now, "more," you gasp.

"Take your shirt off," his voice is gravelly and out of breath. The hand once fondling with your breast is now gripping under your thigh. It's pushing your legs up and up and up, till they're resting right on top of his strong shoulders. Your pussy clenches around him upon feeling the muscle moving under your legs. His mouth comes down to suck your right nipple, eyes staring dead into yours.

Fuck you're cuming, quick with his name on your tongue. "Not fuckin' done," he groans, grinding into you with another thrust. "Don't even think about movin' didn't-" He hisses, "fuck, didn't get to cum yet." Another grind and then he's bringing a calloused finger to your clit.

"Katsuki..."

"Yeah baby," it's low and husky, drawing more slick from you.

"Was lying about the condom." He gives you a harsh thrust at that, clearly fucking pissed. "Don't give a shit about it," he nearly pulls all the way out to slam back in. "Just wanted to-"

"Get to the fuckin' point," other hand squeezing at your throat.

"Want you to come in me," you're fucking yelling. "Please," begging.

"Fuck baby, that's enough to make me come on the spot."

You whine at that, "no."

"No?"

"No, please. Inside please."

He pulls out, smirking when he sees how your walls clench around the empty space. "Missing me," he teases rolling off the condom carelessly dropping it onto the floor. In a snap he's back in, three strokes and then he's gone.

The liquid is fucking hot, it's scorching. You wanna taste, wish you would have gotten the chance to. The thought of that has your walls fluttering and coming a second time. Your eyes are all dazed and glossy, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. Carefully Katsuki pulls your shaking legs off his shoulders, while your hand reaches up to push his hair out of your face. "Fuck you're a brat," your lip tint smeared all over his lips.

It makes you smile all soft and gooey. "I'm tired now."

He snorts, pulling your underwear back onto you. "'Course you are," he tugs on his boxers and jeans. "Don't let any of that shit spill out you understand me?" He's pointing at you, face back to that scowl. You nod, pulling your pants back on. The both of you tug on your shirts, he moves to the front while you remain laying in the back. You find a sweater of his and tug it on while he starts the car, rolling down the windows to air the thing out.

"We're doing that shit at least one more time," he says pulling the car out of park.

"You're place or mine," you smile at him through the rearview mirror.

[ihave-atummyache]

is it here?

Changbin Blurb/imagine

short drabble

sfw!! (i was giggling and kicking my feet writing this)

im not sure how many words but not many!!

this is 100000% inspired by a tweet i just saw <3

“Binnie, let me see your phone,” you lock your own phone and he grabs his off the table, passing it to you, not even pretending to glance away from his laptop.

“What are you looking for?” Your boyfriend ponders, clicking away on his computer. You had been scrolling on your phone quietly for a while and he was wondering what you were doing.

“I ordered something online and I can’t find the confirmation email. I might have accidentally put your phone number,” you reply and type the word “order confirmation” into his search bar.

You click the first email that comes up and your eyes widen and you let out a gasp when you realize what it is. This immediately catches your boyfriend’s attention, especially when he sees the blush rush up your neck and the soft smile on your face.

“What? What happened?” He leans back in the couch and glances over at the screen of his phone.

There, you both stare at the confirmation email for the engagement ring that he had ordered. You quickly swipe out of the email and scroll, finding the email you’re looking for and forwarding it to yourself.

You’re speechless and, to your surprise, so is Changbin. You swallow thickly and lock his phone, placing it on the couch between the two of you.

Neither you nor Changbin say anything for a few minutes. He clears his throat and starts typing on his computer again and you unlock your phone once more but you can’t even pretend to be focused on anything on your screen.

Before you know it, a quiet giggle escapes your lips and you bite your lip to try to suppress it. Your boyfriend hears you, his cute giggle following yours and you can’t help but laugh again.

The two of you continue to giggle, falling back on the couch and leaning into each other.

“What are you giggling at?” you tease, interlacing your fingers with his and resting your head on his shoulder.

“What are you giggling at?” he rebuttals and you let out another quick giggle before taking a breath and calming down enough to speak.

“You know why I’m giggling,” you reply and turn towards your boyfriend, who was already looking at you, “Is it here?” you add on, a small smile covering both of your faces. He already knows exactly what you’re asking about.

He chuckles once more before nodding his head at you, “It is,” he confirms and a huge grin covers your face.

“Is it hidden?” You ask, sitting up and grabbing the laptop off his lap. You sit it on the coffee table before swinging your leg over his lap and straddling him.

“It is,” he repeats himself, giving you nothing to work with. Your boyfriend (soon to be fiancée, apparently) wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You wrap your arms around his neck and lean forward, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Wanna play hot or cold?” You offer and he immediately shakes his head at you before the two of you erupt into more giddy giggles.

[steveharringtonat3am]

no thoughts just riding steve after a stressful day at work

smut 18+, mentions of alcohol, adorable boyfriend steve, reader on top, penetration

You’re still cursing as you swing the apartment door open, letting it close in a much harsher fashion than normal. You had spent the entire day irritated. Your boss, your coworkers, and even your clients had managed to piss you off. You kick your heel off, letting them fly into the corner by the door as you head to the kitchen.

You had spent the car ride practically dreaming about the wine you were about to have. The glass has barely touched your lips when a voice perks up.

“Tough day?” Steve calls from the couch, reading glasses perched on his nose and a book in hand. Something in you melts when you see him and your feet carry you over to him on instinct.

He sets the book down as you climb into his lap, putting your wine glass next to his kicked up feet on the table.

“It was horrible.” He rubs your back as you lay your head on his shoulder, taking a few breaths. You don’t wanna direct your anger to Steve so you have to calm down just a little.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” His fingers tangle with yours as you sit up to face him. Steve has always been pretty, you knew that the day you met him, but he was especially gorgeous on nights like this. Maybe it was the pure domesticity of it. Your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, sitting on your couch in his pyjamas on a Friday night. You almost couldn’t believe it.

“I’m just glad you’re here.” You relax against him once more.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” His big hands rub up and down the exposed skin of your legs.

“Honestly it was so stressful just talking about it might piss me off again.” You mumble against his neck.

“Do you wanna talk about it while you ride me? That always works wonders for your stress.” You can hear the smile in his voice but the offer is sincere.

“Yeah?” You confirm, already excited at the idea.

“Go ahead sweetheart.” He winks as you shift his pants down just enough to reveal his cock. He’s already half hard so it only takes a few strokes to get him ready.

Ever the gentleman, Steve is already bunching your pencil skirt around your waist, eyes dark behind his glasses when he sees your red thong.

“What’s this?” He plays with the fabric over your hip, licking his lips.

“It doesn’t show panty lines.” You smile as you sit up and pull the fabric to the side to take the tip of his cock.

Steve is big. Bigger than most, so riding him is usually a challenge. Luckily, it’s one that you’re always up for.

“There you go baby…” He groans as you sink down on him, already soaked.

“God this is exactly what I needed.” You moan as you start to move up and down. You take it nice and slow, letting yourself adjust. There’s no urgency in your movements. You have all the time in the world.

“So, what pissed you off?” Steve kisses along your collarbone between words, making you giggle at the sensation.

“Just-just my coworkers being stupid. Can you believe Danielle didn’t overnight the contracts I gave her? Then Mr. Zelleman got mad at me for it! It was so-so stupid.” As Steve helps you move up and down on him, you start to care less and less about work and more about how incredible his cock feels.

“So stupid…” He mumbles in agreement, kissing at your neck in a way that’s sure to leave a mark. You can’t be bothered about it though, as you start to move faster. Your stomach tightens in a very familiar way. Steve’s hands tighten their grip on yours, hips jutting up to meet your own. You press your lips against his desperately as your orgasm hits you. Pleasure that you can hardly contain shoots through you as the warmth of Steve’s orgasm fills you. As the euphoria fades, so does your energy.

You slump against Steve’s chest, his arms coming around to hug you. There’s not a thought in your head as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Feel better?” He asks.

“…About what?”

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hello, hope you're a having a good day

Could you write something about 141 x reader where the sparring session turns a little too not your usual sparring (if you know what I mean). The reader and them being all sweaty and shit and like the sexual tension that's been there for a while. This idea has been plaguing my mind since forever. Thank youuuu

Haha! Yes! Omg, I love it. Okay, for this, I didn't go full smut. When someone mentions sexual tension, I tend to hyperfocus on that and want to bathe in it. Give me naughty thoughts and flirting-maybe even some actual physical contact that borders on dangerous territory. Give me the yearning! I want to giggle and kick my feet and think about what might happen later.

So, I indulged in that regard! I had lots of fun with this. Thank you so much for sending it in!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x TF141!Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, knife play, grinding, rough kissing, caught in the act, training, naughty thoughts, mutual yearning

Word Count: 2.4k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Come on. Come at me.”

Soap rolls his shoulders and then brings his fists up in a fighting stance. He makes a “go on” gestured with his hands.

Every muscle in your body is sore. Tired doesn’t even begin to describe how you’re feeling. But you want to best Soap. He’s been on your ass for weeks now—insisting that the two of you should spar together. It’s not the sparring that makes you warm and tingly but the way he suggests it.

Always leaning in. Standing far too close. Bumping your shoulder with his.

Soap waits, but you’re not sure how to proceed. So far, you’ve been completely unsuccessful. As if knowing all your moves, Soap has dodged each blow and kick, effortlessly taking you down to the mat every time you thinking you’ve ensnared him.

Stealth is more your thing. Creeping around in the shadows. Taking out opponents from afar. A sniper scope is your friend. Hand-to-hand isn’t.

You lunge for him and Soap steps back. Fist missing him, you sidestep and go for a jab in the stomach. Soap slaps your hand away, and you want to yell in frustration.

“Sloppy today,” chides Soap, grinning like this amuses him.

It probably does. He’s one for a good laugh.

This time you feign, and Soap takes it, moving in. You’re ready for him, turning out of his swing to duck beneath and then aim for the face. Soap rises to block, and opens a clear line to his groin.

Fucking beautiful.

Lifting your foot, you don’t tap him hard, just enough for his cheeks to go pink. Soap grunts, and you chuckle.

“Shouldn’t have left yourself—”

With an oof, your back smacks against the tumble mat beneath you. Soaps snags your wrists and pins them above your head. You go to kick out at him, but Soap’s knees are between your legs. He shoves them wider.

You’re completely trapped beneath him.

And in a completely inappropriate position.

From where you’re pinned, you notice the small beads of sweat on his brow and how a few pieces of hair stick to his skin. Though his chest is covered by a shirt, it’s snug, with every muscle on display. Those powerful thighs of his press against yours in such a way that you’re imagining nothing between your bodies.

Would he feel this powerful over you if the two of you were elsewhere? Perhaps, somewhere more private. Somewhere without a tumble mat. Somewhere with a bed.

“Can’t harm the goods, love,” says Soap, his voice husky. You’re not sure if it’s from the close contact or from the tap you gave his crotch.

“Then don’t leave them vulnerable,” you reply, almost not recognizing the sound of your own voice. It too is husky as if dipped in desire.

The middle of Soap’s brow scrunches slightly. His gaze travels downward to linger on your lips and then further still until you sense him admiring more than he is observing.

“Soap—”

His gaze snaps upward. “Johnny,” he corrects. “Think we’re on closer terms.”

“Are we?” you ask, as his hips start to relax.

The press of him against you is apparent, and the hardness there is poking at you. Insistent. And you don’t want to ignore it.

Instead, you press upward, grinding against him.

Soap—no—Johnny, makes a sound in his throat.

One moment you’re under him and then you’re in his lap, the two of you sitting up, staring into each other’s eyes. Your heart hammers in your chest, and your hands fists the front of his shirt.

“You—”

“Are we interrupting something?”

You and Johnny turn just as Ghost and Gaz enter the gym. Gaz has a towel draped over his shoulder. The water bottle he holds it half-way towards his mouth before he freezes, gaze locked on you and Johnny.

Ghost cocks his head, arms crossed over his chest.

You’re speechless. Lost. Your mind hasn’t caught up.

But Johnny’s has.

With a twist, Johnny rolls and then lightly tosses you off him as if the two of you were simply practicing and not staring into each other’s eyes.

“You want a go, Lt?” asks Johnny.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“You up for another round?” asks Kyle.

The man is grinning like he could do this all day. You’re sore everywhere—ready to collapse from exhaustion. Hand-to-hand combat is not your thing which is why you’re here in the training room with Kyle.

Yes, you need practice, but you’ve also had your eye on him, admiring him when you think no one is looking. It’s an excuse for some alone time.

“I’d rather eat glass,” you mutter, snatching up your water bottle and drinking the last of it.

“Hate me that much?” he teases.

“So much so that I wanted to spend the afternoon beating your ass.”

Kyle bursts out laughing. He snatches the water bottle out of your hand and aims it at you, squeezing. There’s nothing in it. A few measly drops hit your face and then you lunge for him. Kyle jumps back and extends his arms outward.

“One more round.” He winks. “Come on, love.”

He’s being cheeky, and your blood is pumping.

Kyle tosses your water bottle to the side as you stride forward. His arms go up, and then the two of you are nothing but flying fists and feet. He’s faster, blocking every blow you send his way.

Sweat accumulates on your brow and on the back of your neck, dripping down your spine. You lick your lips, taste the salt from the sweat.

You duck. Swing. Kyle snatches your wrist and twists, pinning your arm behind you. With a sharp jab of your elbow, you nail Kyle in the stomach, freeing yourself.

As you spin to lash out, Kyle is right there, in your space, blocking all movement. You try to step back, to allow space in your next strike, but Kyle rushes in. The two of you are twisted up. Falling. Slamming into the mat on the floor.

You shove and Kyle resists, his strength outmatching yours. With cheek pressed into the mat, you have nowhere to go. You’re completely on your stomach, and all of Kyle’s weight is on you. He breathes heavily, chest heaving. You feel his breath against your skin, and the contact only sends your skin into a shiver.

Your mind drifts, lingering in places it shouldn’t. Worse—Kyle is aroused. His hardness pokes at your ass. But whether he notices or not is unclear.

“You’re improving,” he says.

“I have a good teacher.”

Kyle makes a noise that sounds like agreement. Every muscle is tense, and even Kyle’s hold on you seems laced with something harsh. But then it eases. Softens. His grip loosens enough that you roll onto your side, glancing up at him.

He is so goddamn close. Just a gentle tilt of the head and your lips would meet his. It wouldn’t be that hard. He’s right there.

Kyle blinks, and then his gaze trails downward, lingering on your lips.

“We,” he begins. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why?”

His thumb traces along the side of your throat, and your eyelids flutter with contentment. A little moan escapes you, and you hear Kyle’s sharp inhale.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck it.”

His thumb becomes his whole hand. Holding you in place, Kyle goes all in, claiming your lips with his. It is dominating, and you happily give in to him.

John Price

Your back hits the tumble mat with a sharp slap. The exposed portions of your shoulders and back sting from the contact.

"Again."

Groaning, you push up to a seated position. "We've been at this for hours."

"And you need practice," counters Price.

He's hatless. And shirtless. Only in cargo pants and boots, Captain Price's bare skin glistens with sweat. You won't pretend that the sight of him like this doesn't intrigue you. For months now you've been observing Captain Price in more than just a professional manner. It's hard not to, and the sweat-drenched man before you isn't helping things.

Captain Price runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. The casualness to the movement causes your stomach to twist with desire. Your body betrays you, and you have no idea if these feelings are entirely one-sided. Sometimes you think you might gleam a notion of his thoughts, but it always manages to slip through your grasp.

Price offers his hand, and an idea forms.

You extend yours, but don't close the distance. Price is the one that leans forward to do so. It's the perfect opportunity. When your fingers close around his, you tug back, throwing him off balance.

Price tips forward, and you turn to the side as he crashes down to the mat. In one fluid movement, you roll Price onto his back and straddle his stomach.

"Never let your guard down. That's what you always say."

Price's eyes widen slightly before softening. The corner of his mouth twitches into a hint of amusement. It immediately sends heat flaring through you.

"I do," he replies, and it's nearly a coo.

That smirk of his widens into an actual smile, and then it's you on your back and Price straddling. You strike out with an elbow but Price catches your swing, trapping your arms above your head. He bends forward a bit, and it is then that you feel the stiffness against your stomach.

Price makes no move to hide it, and you don’t dare glance downward.

"You need to do better-"

"Captain."

Price immediately recoils, sitting up and releasing your arms. You twist to look behind you, only to find Ghost and Soap standing nearby. Ghost is ever the silent observer, but Soap's head is slightly tilted to the side, the middle of his brow pinched like he's not sure what's happening.

"Meeting starts in five,” says Soap. “Came to find you."

Price coughs and then he's off you, kneeling and offering you a hand again. You don't try to knock him down.

"Just going over some pointers,” replies Price.

"Pointers?" deadpans Ghost and you shoot him a look. He shrugs at you, gaze lingering before moving to his captain.

"Give me ten minutes. Shower. Then I'll be there."

Captain Price gives you a quick glance before walking off with Soap. Ghost crosses his arms over his chest and just stares.

“What?" you snap

"Pointers," he repeats.

"Oh, fuck off, Simon."

He chuckles and turns to follow the two out of the training room.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

"Your posture is terrible."

"That's very helpful, Lieutenant,” you deadpan.

"Are you sassing me?"

"No."

Simon shakes his head and sighs. “Can’t throw a knife accurately if you’re hunched like a goblin.”

“Goblin,” you mutter under your breath. “Asshole.”

“What was that?”

You clear your throat. “Seems easy, Lieutenant. You just throw the pointy end at the enemy.”

Simon grunts and then grabs your raised arm. "You won't hit anything standing like that."

You resist his pull but you're outmatch when it comes to strength. With one hand on your arm and one on your waist, Simon shifts you into position.

"Like this," he instructs, bringing your arm back. "Firm grip. Feet pointed forward." Simon releases your arm but his hand on your waist remains. "Throw. At the target."

You let the knife fly. It strikes just right of the bullseye.

"Again,” nods Simon.

"Really?"

Simon slowly drops his hand from your waist, the tips of fingers lingering a second longer than necessary.

Removing a knife from his boot, Simon flips it end over end. "We could hone your skills a different way."

"What way?"

“Grab your knife and find out.”

Stalking toward the bullseyes, you yank out the knife, joining Simon in the sparring ring. He bends at the knee, crouching into a fight stance. You mimic the movement.

Simon lunges first and you sidestep. But he's quick for such a large man. He moves around and behind you so fast he's almost a blur.

Grabbing your wrist, Simon lightly twists and pins you against his front, the knife tip pointed at your throat.

"Again,” he growls.

Simon lightly shoves you away. You spin. Striking out. He slaps your arm down and raises his own, the knife tip pointed at your throat for a second time.

"Again."

Showing your teeth, you charge at him, barreling into him at the middle. Simon staggers but doesn't faulter. He attempts to toss you off him, but you remain firm, grabbing hold.

This unloads him, his weight toppling with you. The two of you go down. Simon rolls you onto your back, his body pressed to yours, knife at your throat again.

"Better,” he says. “Still needs improvement."

You go to shove him off, but Simon doesn't budge. He remains where he is, and every point of contact is like an electrical spark. Even his face is close, balaclava nearly scratching against your skin. There is not part of him you’re not touching.

Awareness settles in.

Simon is all hardness over you.

"Have any tips you can give me?" you reply.

His gaze slowly lowers to your lips. His hips shift slightly, something stiff poking against your inner thigh.

“I have one,” he murmurs.

Bet I can guess.

“How do you want it?” he continues.

"You're the expert," you reply softly, hooking your leg over the back of his.

It's an invitation, one you aren't sure he'll take.

There’s a brief pause, and then Simon hums in agreement. It’s a pleased sound, one that instantly makes you shiver. Without taking the knife from your throat, he closes the distance, lips pressing against yours through the balaclava.

Heat erupts, the knife in your hand forgotten on the floor as you grab at him, fingers digging in.

It's only a tease. You want the real thing.

"What's the tip?" you ask once he breaks the connection.

Simon answers by grinding his hips against yours.

That one. Got it.

“We should—”

A door slams from somewhere down the hall. Simon’s head snaps up. The knife disappears, and then Simon is pushing himself away, kneeling beside you. His head is turned toward the main doors, but no one enters.

“It’s late,” you say. No one should be coming this way.

He turns back to you. “Your knife skills are shit.”

You groan. “I know. Goblin hunch. Got it.”

Simon snorts, and offers his hand. You take it, and he pulls you into a seated position. “Just a few more rounds,” he says, and then with a husky twinge to his tone, “and then I’ll go make sure the locker room is clear.”

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[surielstea]

Ensnaring Marks

Eris week day one: Bargains

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Rhys’ sister!Reader

Summary: Reader and Azriel decide to take part in Eris’s coronation, only to end up in one of the new High Lords traps.

Warnings: Mentions of UTM | petnames (bunny, love) | reader is lonely

A.Note: I wrote this last year as a one off so it might be a bit… well, not good, but I promise the rest of the week will be better 🙏😭

4.3k words.

I sat on the hardwood floors, leaning against the base of the couch, Azriel seated behind me as he flitted through a chapter book. I had my head back on the cushion, waiting for his chapter to end so he could finally give me attention, this silence was beginning to grow deafening.

I stared at the elegant panes of his face, his sharp nose and his hazel eyes scanning the words on the pages rapidly. My eyes trail down to his hands that clutched the book, sickening scars trailing from his wrist down to his fingertips. The white marring was a pattern I've memorized, trailing my hands along the grooves when I got too anxious and occasionally a small kiss to his knuckles to remind him that he shouldn't be ashamed of them.

"You're staring." He grumbled and a small grin formed on my face as shadows curled through my hair.

"You make it hard not to, Shadowsinger." I tease, it was no secret that Azriel was the most attractive of the three Illyrian brothers, no matter what your type was— Azriel was quite the stunner. He closed his book and put it on the armrest beside him.

"What is it that you want then?" He arched a manicured brow and my grin widened as I pulled myself up onto the couch, swinging my legs over his lap as I lounged back.

"I'd like you to tell me something," I ask as shadows come to swirl around my ankles. "Tell you what?" He mutters confused.

"Anything you want, what's on your mind?" I tilt my head and he closes his eyes like he needs to sift through his thoughts before he can answer.

"Beron died." He muttered and I rolled my eyes.

"Old news." I wave him off, the event happening weeks ago.

"Eris's coronation is tomorrow. He asked me to come." Azriel crosses his arms over his chest like the invitation was a threat of some sort. My smile dropped.

"Will you?" My brows knot together and he gives me an incredulous look.

"He invited everyone from the inner circle, but it felt more like a mockery than anything," Azriel grumbled. He knew that talking bad about the people of the Court of Dreams got under my skin more than anything and I had a newfound urge to choke out a certain redhead.

"We should go." My eyes light up and he looks at me like I'm insane, but stays silent, looking down at my feet in his lap. "If he invited us as a joke, we should go." I snort and he shakes his head in protest. "It'll be funny! Not to mention the drama it'd stir." I giggle mischievously and Azriel gives me eyes that were a full lecture on their own. "Oh don't act like you're not a total gossip, shadows tell you every secret you want to know." I kick his thigh playfully and he grumbles under his breath as I remember the nights we would share wine and converse over whoever's tittle-tattle that shadows informed him on.

"I don't gossip, I tell the truth." He states and I snort at the ridiculous claim.

"You need a refresher on the definition then because you've just proven yourself to be a pot stirrer Az." I pat his shoulder and he shrugs me off. We stay quiet for a moment, my hum of laughter filling the silence as he mulls over my ludicrous idea.

"Okay." He nods and I raise a brow.

"Okay?" I ask.

"Okay, we can go to his coronation." Azriel hummed and I blinked, confused as to why in the hell he'd ever agree to such things.

As if he'd seen the shock on my face he supplied a reason, "I have to go there to talk about contracts and alliances the day after so why not just arrive a day early?" Azriel poses and I smile excitedly. "This isn't just some ploy to get me out of the house?" I ask with a chuckle but there is some truth to it.

Ever since Rhys left for Under The Mountain I haven't quite been the same. I didn't leave the house unless I was with another, the whispers on the street about the High Princess. Those long hours spent with Keir in the court of nightmares, hosting it while my brother was away. Hating who I was then, cold and distant, both inside the court of nightmares and dreams. It was rare I got out, much less left courts. I didn't like the rumors, the talk on the streets, the theories. Most of it was idle talk, some of it had truth— and it was that minuscule portion that scared me the most.

"Yeah, I'd like that." I nod and he offers me a gentle smile, slightly forced but comforting nonetheless.

"Do you want to invite the others?" He asks and I take a moment to think about it, but decided that if Mor knew she'd be pissed, Rhys wouldn't go, Amren doesn't care, and I'm pretty sure Cassian would rather chop his own hand off. "No," I shake my head. "Just you and I could burn that court to rubble." I intone, crossing my arms like we'll need to do such things. and he raises a brow— that apparently intrigues him. "Joking." I smack his shoulder and a warm grin came to his face, genuine.

"Are you?" He narrows his gaze on me and I look away mischievously.

"I wouldn't mind seeing the prince's face if I took his court." I give him a gleeful smile, something like pride shines in his eyes. "I wouldn't mind seeing the prince's face in general," I grumble afterward, and the pride he held swapped for something of the opposite. "It's not my fault he's hot!" I throw a decorative pillow at him which he swerves with an ease I envied.

"It's your fault you find him attractive." He pushes my feet from his lap dramatically and I giggle at his childish behavior.

"You have to admit, he could turn you." I tease with a smirk and he glares at me. "If he didn't open his loud mouth he'd be perfect." I sigh dreamily, leaning back into the couch, utilizing the entire space as he gets up to put his book away.

"That's always the problem with the men I date. So pretty, until they start speaking." I huff, standing up and following him to the bookcase like one of his own shadows. "Maybe I should go for the quiet ones." I hum. "I ought to practice on you." I wrap my arms around his bicep and he bristles, lightly shoving me off as I cackle.

"You're not funny." He mumbles, walking over to his desk where he has unfinished work to complete.

"Don't act like I'm some sort of monster for teasing. That's all you and Cass do to me." I roll my eyes as I watch him sit on his stool. "You actually get the ladies, it's easier to joke about when it isn't true." I sling an arm around his shoulder and this time he doesn't shove me away.

"You would get males if you left the house." He grumbled in retort and an idea blooms in my head. "That's the idea for going to the coronation." I grin and he grants me a sidelong glance. "Is that why we're going?" He asks and I shake my head. "No!" I squeeze his bicep. "We're good allies, meaning we're there to support him," I argue and he huffs. He could never say no to me, never has. "And also admire his perfect face." I quietly mutter but it's nothing the Shadowsinger wouldn't notice.

"Go pack your bag." He shakes me off of his arm. "Just for one night. We'll find a hotel on the border." He hums and I nod, following his instructions with a new task rather than talking his ear off like usual.

——

It was the first Friday of the month, meaning that family dinner was afoot. Morrigan had spilled her glass of wine all over the Shadowsinger in a dramatic movement of her hands so he had gone to go change, meaning I was subject to sit in the center of the dining room surrounded by couples ogling at each other, they were practically drooling down their chins— and adding wine into the mix, gods it reeked of arousal.

"Horny bastards," I mutter, standing up and throwing my napkin down onto my plate. I bunch my skirts in my hands and make my way toward the hallway.

"Sister! C'mon!" Rhys races after me, following me all the way to the foyer of the large house.

"What?" I look at him confused.

"Won't you stay for dessert?" He says hopefully and I twist my lips to the side.

"I don't know Rhys, I'm tired." I sigh out and his eyes soften.

"You're always tired." His voice was a whisper his words had my feet bolted to where they stood.

"I trained with Cass this morning, I'm actually tired," I stress and he nods in understanding.

"Let me at least take you home." He reaches his hand out.

"I'm fine." I shake my head.

"Please." He pushes his hand toward me further and I look down at it. "Alright." I accept, sliding my hand into his, mostly out of pity.

He doesn't waste time in winnowing us straight to the house of wind, my feet planted solidly on the marble tiling. "I miss you." He uttered and I looked up at him, detaching our hands.

"I miss you too." I offer him a small smile but it doesn't quite reach my eyes the way he wanted it to.

"I wish you'd come by more often." Something in his violet eyes glazed over and my heart cracked.

"It's hard." I rub my hands together anxiously before deciding it best to just cross my arms. "I should be happy." A frown forms on my face and I don't have it in myself to maintain eye contact. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Something's just, missing." I shrug when he doesn't say anything.

"Something or someone?" He prods and I glare up at him.

"My love life isn't our biggest problem." I shake my head.

"But it is bringing you trouble, therefore it's bringing me grief." He mirrors my stance and crosses his own arms.

"Well that's not something we can just fix, it's an internal problem." I muster the courage to look into his familiar violet eyes. The same color as our father's own but held all the love of his mother's gaze.

"I want to be there for Nyx, for you and Feyre too. But I'm selfish and It's difficult for me to be surrounded by something I want for myself." I confess and he releases a soft sigh, then pulls me in for another hug.

"We'll figure it out, promise." He reassured. I allow myself to sink into the warmth of his hug, how similar it was to our mothers. I nod and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he wraps his wings around us and cocooning the both of us in our own little world of darkness.

"Thank you, Rhys," I whisper. "Feels good to talk again." We haven't really said anything to each other beyond small talk after Nyx's birth, and that's nearly a year ago now. I haven't been the same since the war and found it hard to open up since. It's been a long while since he even hugged me.

"I'll see you again soon, okay?" I back away from the embrace and he nods. "Sooner than next month's dinner?" He hopes with an easy grin coming to his face and I nod confidently.

"Sooner than next month's dinner," I assure.

"Good." He smiles before walking towards the edge of the opening where he winnowed us.

"Night, Sister." He flares his wings outward. "Goodnight brother!" I wave him off and he dives off the side of the house, I'd be worried about him if I didn't hear the steady beats of his wings a moment later.

I release a long sigh and retreat to my room.

————

I stood in front of my body-length mirror, gazing at the gown I wore. It was a deep blue as an ode to my court, I always wore colors of the night when visiting other courts, and today was no exception. The gown itself was beautiful, soft silk material that moved like water. It had a dipping neckline with curtaining sleeves that hung off my shoulders, the excess fabric draping from my back in two long pieces all the way to the floor where the rest of the dress dragged. The skirt was one long piece but had a cone-like figure, excess material swooping along the sides and attaching to my waist, forming a flattering silhouette. The dress was modest in cleavage though had a long slit ripping up all the way to my hip, the toe of my heel peaking out at the base.

I was putting in a pair of silver dangling earrings when Azriel made his appearance known at my doorway. He released a low whistle and I smiled, turning around to face him. "How do I look?" I ask him. "Like the princess you are." He hums, pushing off the frame and extending his scarred hand towards me. "Do they know we're leaving?" I ask, grabbing my bag. "I don't think they'll notice." He shrugs and I slip my hand into his. Shadows twine up our connected arms and I smile at the temporary binding. "Ready?" He asks and I nod with a grin.

He steps into the shadows and pulls me along with him. I squeeze his hand tighter as we walk through the abyss of darkness. It takes a moment to know if I was even awake or not, but by the time I regain consciousness of where I was we were already back in the real world and now in the autumn court.

"I still don't understand how you do that." A shiver runs down my spine and I let go of his hand. "Here," He takes my overnight bag then it disappears into the shadows. Apart of me wonders where it's gone but I know he wouldn't tell if I asked. "Come on." His hand slips back into mine as he pulls me towards the venue of the autumn lords coronation.

At the entrance, we were greeted by two guards with bright red hair and faces that were nearly identical. Eris was a fool to think these two men could hold off Azriel alone. "Court and name?" The guard with a clipboard asked and I rolled my eyes at the extravagance of it, this isn't a wedding. "Night Court. I'm probably titled the Shadowsinger." Azriel hums, his hand squeezing mine a little tighter as the guard flips through the list, going all the way to the bottom where our section resided. "You're here, and the girl?" He glances at me carelessly. "I'm the princess of night, I don't know what the lord would put me down as." I crease my brows and lean over to peer down at the clipboard. Spotting the names put down as high lord of night, high lady, lord of bloodshed— and "Bunny." He glances up at me and my stomach twists. "Section B, seats four and five. Proceed." The two guards step aside. "Enjoy, Bunny." The other guard teases me with a malicious smile and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.

"I forgot how much I hate Eris." I huff.

"I forgot he calls you that." Azriel chuckles and I playfully bumped his shoulder. "He clearly doesn't know that bunnies are animals of Spring not Night," I grumble, picking apart the idiocracy of it.

"What sort of a nickname is owl though?" He defends and I roll my eyes, continuing my march down the long corridor, chairs passing each side of me.

"We're awfully close to the front," I mutter as Azriel sits down in the seat we were told to. Second front row and nearly center.

"Eris's motives are always a mystery." He sighed as I sat next to him.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," I mutter. "I mean, is this rude of us?" I whisper.

"He's the one that invited us." He shrugs.

"And it was funny at the time, maybe we should go." I offer but before he can reply the music is starting and people immediately settle. Theres nobody to the right side of me, but people sit beside Azriel. Meaning the rest of my family was supposed to be lined along my right.

Royal coronations aren't nearly as fun as mating ceremonies. The best part of them was admiring the venue and all the dresses others came in. I was nearly asleep until Eris finally came out, on the dais with a priestess.

He wore a dark green tunic, nearly black. His dark red hair was stark against the cream-colored background of the manor walls. His golden eyes were practically glowing with power and I was intent on staring right at them as the ceremony went. The golden irises trailed over the crowd, across his mother, Lucien, and his other brothers who were some distance apart, a group of advisors who used to work under Beron huddled in the back, and then finally me. Our eyes locked right when the golden leaf crown was placed atop of his head and I swore it was pure power that shone in his eyes as he became High Lord. Finally high lord.

He didn't tear his gaze from mine. Not when he accepted the crown and definitely not when he sat on that throne, the one that looked as if it could swallow me whole but when he sat in it he was the one to dominate it, an absurd amount of manspreading at play as he lounged back in it. The flawless picture of a careless king.

A smile curved his lips as everyone stood to cheer. Azriel and I stood, but we did not clap, and he didn't look away even for a second as everyone bowed, and I kept my chin held high.

——

The chairs were cleared out and something like a party began, an extravagant ball morphed from a coronation. A long line of men women and children alike filed down the side of the wall, all leading up to the dais where Eris sat and answered any questions the civilians might have had. Who knew the next time they'd get the chance to speak with a high lord?

"We should probably go," I say, sipping from my wine glass. "I wanted to say something to him but there's not a chance I'm waiting in that line." I huff and Azriel hums in reply, sipping from his own whiskey. The autumn court had the best liquor and the best food. The court was always in harvest and the vineyards were always in fresh bloom. I would visit all the time if it weren't for the male that now ruled this place.

"We can go to the inn if you're feeling tired, if not I'd like to eat more." He plucks a grape from a bowl and pops it into his mouth. "I'm going to find a bathroom or whatever place I can be alone in for a moment." I excuse myself and he nods, bidding me a goodbye.

I failed at finding a bathroom but after trying a few doors I managed to find an empty room, the one for holding the guests' coats, but it was quiet nonetheless.

I release a deep sigh and shuffle through the coats, curiously passing time until the Shadowsinger is ready to go. The door of the closet swings open and I freeze as someone enters, getting caught for stealing when I was actually just hiding would be mighty embarrassing.

But I wasn't met with a guard I was met with a worn-out high lord, his head back against the door with the top of his shirt buttons unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. "Running from your own party?" I scoffed and he startled, whipping his head to me.

"Hello, Bunny." He gave a foxlike grin.

"Don't call me that." I cross my arms but his smirk only broadens.

"It's fitting," He leans closer and flicks my nose. I flinch back but there's a lot less room in this closet with both of us in here. "Is that why you call me it then?" I stumble back as he comes closer.

"Do you know what a fox's favorite thing to hunt is?" He questions and I take another step back, my body pressing flush against the cold wall.

"I don't know, mice?" I raise a brow.

"Hm, would you like me to call you mouse instead?" His long legs close the distance between us in one stride and I'm looking right up at him. He reaches towards me and brushes his hand along the column of my throat, his thumb coming to my bottom lip.

"No," I swat his hand away but it comes right back to where it was.

"Because you're a bunny, and you're all alone with me in here, caught in my snare." His smile is malicious if not a little seductive. "I want a bargain with you." He hummed, his eyes flashing something like mischief in his eyes.

"You have nothing I want." I cross my arms in front of me.

"I have plenty of what you want." His thumb caresses against my jaw. "Your little family needs my alliance to succeed in their peace treaty," He hums knowingly. "Tamlin will go down in a feeble attempt at a fight but he'll give in. But me? With my army and skill set, it'd be war." He purrs and my skin alights with his warm touch. We would win, with the Night Courts allies we would win. But war means death no matter what, and that's the last thing we need. If I can avoid that and make sure he stays true to his word with a bargain I was willing to risk anything.

"What do you want from me?" Bargaining with Eris is tricky. He's beyond smart so any loophole he could find in whatever I make him do must be eliminated.

"I want you," His long finger trails from my ear to my lips where his thumb swipes over the bottom one.

"Me?" I scoff with a raised brow.

"Yes, you." He nods.

"Specify," I command him.

"I want you at my side for three days a week, and I'll sign your brother's little peace treaty." He nods, and my stomach drops to the floor. To give up half my freedom to ensure war won't break out— if he even would. I debate my options. I need Rhys or Amren to make this decision for me. I try to think of what they would do, and how they would approach the situation.

I know deep down they'd both sacrifice themselves and a lot more to ensure the safety of our family. So I think about my terms. "Why?" I ask.

"Does it matter?" He hums with a smile. "It's a yes or no." He shrugs.

"So if I agree to this, you'll never call out a war against my court?" I ask. He nods. "You'll sign the peace treaty and stay true to it?" My brow raises and he dips his head again. "You won't hurt any of them?" My voice is a little more soft. His nod repeats. I go quiet, thinking it over.

"Three days a week, whatever days you want." He hums like that gives me any sort of flexibility. "But you have to be by my side." He crosses his muscular arms that strained beneath his tunic.

"Deal," I mutter and his eyes glow in the dark of the closet. I gasp as ink begins to carve up my thigh. I move it out from my skirt where the slit is, revealing a deep maroon color swirling from the back of my knee all the way up and along to my inner thigh. I've never seen a bargain's ink another color than black, I suppose the cauldron liked the high lord. His pale hand came to my golden skin and brushed over the new tattoo, right along my bare thigh. When I realized what he was doing I moved my leg back under my skirt. He looks back up to me with a smirk curving his lips.

"Your neck," I reach up and brush the back of my hand along the new ink forming there, disappearing beneath his shirt. "Mine is a lot easier to hide." I hum.

"Who said I was going to hide it?" He arches a perfectly manicured brow. "I want yours on display when you're in my court," He grabs my wrist before I can pull my hand away from his neck.

"You're a fool if you think I'm ever letting it show." I snarl.

He smirks. "When your brother asks about where you got it, what you bargained to earn it, what will you tell him?"

I swallow thickly, keeping eye contact with his golden irises.

His smile widens when I don't reply. "I'll see you tomorrow, Princess," He mocks a bow and I narrow my eyes on him, about to retort but— cauldron-willed, bargains were unbreakable. I had no other choice. "Tomorrow," I whisper softly, mostly to myself but I know he heard it. How in the hell was I ever going to explain this mark to Rhys?

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[munsonluhvr]

could i request steve with a confident reader? just anything other than shy reader 😭

WHAT'S WRONG WITH BEING CONFIDENT?

a/n: shy reader is the it girl rn, huh. thank u for ur request! hope u like it! this was very much inspired by the club scene from '10 things I hate about you,' aka my fav movie of all time. it felt appropriate for this request.

synopsis: king!steve harrington x confident!reader. after setting his eyes on you in the cafeteria, steve, and all of his ego, pursues you; though you don't fall to your knees quite as easy as the other hawkins high girls. word count - 3.5k warnings: some swearing, mostly just fluff. not spell checked, I'm tired I'll do it another day haha.

For the first time in a while, Steve wishes that he could tell Carol and Tommy to shut the fuck up. Carol, and Tommy, were on about something, Steve hadn’t paid enough attention to know exactly what, but all he knew is that he needed peace and quiet to be able to concentrate, to be able to watch you. 

You sit across the cafeteria, oblivious of Steve watching you closely. He watches as you laugh with your table full of friends, head thrown back, soft, round cheeks tinting pink, bright white teeth gleaming against the cafeteria lights. He has to have you. 

Steve leans over to Tommy, nudging his shoulder with his fist. “Who’s that?” Steve asks, bending low to point towards where you sit several tables away. “Who’s who?” Tommy asks, biting into his sandwich, looking towards where Steve points. Carol rolls her eyes, leaning forward to look in the direction that Steve’s pointer finger is angled at. 

“The blonde?” Tommy asks, turning his neck to get a better look. Steve is instantly frustrated, now making himself a spectacle as Tommy twists and turns to get a better look at where you sit. Steve shakes his head. “No, the girl sitting next to the blonde.” 

“Oh, she’s pretty.” Tommy says, sitting back into his chair. Underneath the table, Carol kicks Tommy’s chin with the toe of her shoe. Tommy yelps, shooting his girlfriend a scowl. “But I don’t know who that is.” 

Carol crosses her arms, chewing her gum more intensely. “That’s y/n. We’re in the same economic class.” 

Steve glances at Carol, waiting for her to say more. When she stares back, offering no other information about you, Steve moves his arms as if to say, ‘tell me more.’ Carol shrugs, picking her wad of gum out of mouth with her pointer and thumb fingers, placing it on a napkin that rests on the table. “She’s nice, totally out of your league though.” 

Steve scoffs leaning back in his seat, arms crossing against his chest. “Nobody is out of my league, Carol, girls love me.” 

Beside Steve, Tommy chuckles, shaking his head. “King Steve is back at it. Sayonara, Nancy.” 

Steve shakes his head, shooting Tommy a daring look. Though he was over Nancy, breaking up with her several months ago, Steve didn’t like hearing her name, and Tommy knew that. 

“I’m going to go talk to her,” Steve says, swinging his legs over the bench seat. He runs a hand through his thick hair, his confidence at its peak. For Steve, his good looks, decent sense of humor, had the girls of Hawkins High hooked, weak in the knees for him, all honored to have a little piece of his attention. Carol hums, shaking her head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Steve shrugs off Carol, making his way across the cafeteria to your table. Weaving through crowded tables all clustered together, offering small ‘excuses me’ as he squeezes himself behind tables. 

You are trapped in your own world, enamored by all your friends who giggle around you, sharing funny stories from class. You hardly notice ‘King Steve’ making his way over to you, confidence coursing through him as he strides over. You wouldn’t consider yourself popular, per se, but you had a solid group of friends, people waved hello to you in the hallway. What set you apart from the popular girls in Hawkins is that you stood on your own two feet, had good wit, funny sense of humor, and you were genuinely nice. 

“Oh my god, Steve Harrington alert,” Your friend, Heather mumbled, her eyes shooting down to the tabletop. You shrugged, assuming Steve was just passing by your table. You weren’t wrapped up in the typical high school antics, certainly never pining over Steve Harrington. You were consumed with school and your friends; you were fine with it that way. Though your body tenses, when a hand places itself on your back. Looking across the table you see Heather’s eyes are as wide as saucers, her small mouth agape. 

“Y/n, right?” A voice you recognize as Steve’s says behind you. Stiffly, you turn in your seat, glancing over your shoulder. “Yes?” 

The commotion at your table abruptly comes to a halt, all eyes placed on you and Steve. Steve crouches down beside your chair, holding on to the empty space between you and your friend. Now that Steve is at your height, you’re forced to look his face. It’s a handsome face, all his features coming together perfectly, his fluffy hair adding a playful, boyish look. 

“I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.” Steve says, his hand out stretch to you. How odd you think, a teenage boy offering to shake your hand. You’ve never interacted with Steve before, though from all the discussion about Steve, you can’t imagine girls fawning over them if he offered to shake their hands. He always seems so confident, so arrogant, yet you almost think you sense nervousness radiating off Steve. You stare at his hand, then back at him. “Yes, I know.” You say, your hands folded in your lap unmoving. 

Steve drops his hand, using his free hand to brush his hand through his fluffy, brown hair. “Well, I just saw you from across the cafeteria and I couldn’t understand why we hadn’t met yet.” You glance at your friends, an eyebrow raised. They all watch intrigued. “So, you were watching me?” You say, tossing a glance at Steve. 

His eyes grow wide, his mouth opening and closing with no words coming out. “No- yes- I-“ You giggle as Steve stammers, glancing at your friends again as you hear them giggle. Steve frowns, not understanding where his confidence is lacking. He was normally so good at this. “What I mean is, I thought you were really pretty, I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out sometime? Jason Carver is having a party Saturday night, maybe we could go together.”

Before you could reply, the bell rang, students scrambling from all corners of the cafeteria to flee to their next class. All your friends sit motionless, unphased by the bell ringing, waiting to hear if you’ll go with Steve to the party. You fold your trash neatly, taking your time. Steve stands up as you swing your legs over the bench seat. “I should be going; I don’t want to be late for class,” you say innocently, shooting Steve a small smile. 

Steve frowns as you slide past him, your back turning as you walk away. Steve crosses his arms across his chest, his ego slightly bruised, as you become the first girl to reject his advances. Well, that won’t do, not for Steve at least. He doesn’t give up easily. Across the cafeteria, he sees Carol and Tommy laughing, shaking their heads at him, their eyes flickering to you as you saunter casually out of the cafeteria, your friends close behind. 

For the next half of school, Steve’s mind is preoccupied on how you escaped him, his usual charm and good looks not working on you. Steve had asked around about you, questioning various friends if they knew you. Some shook their head, others nodded, offering kind words about you: ‘She’s cool,’ ‘She’s got a good sense of humor,’ ‘She normally doesn’t date; she says she wants to focus on getting into a good college.’ It was apparent that you were going to be a tough one to crack, and normally Steve would have given up, but you intrigued him. 

The final bell hand rung, to Steve’s delight, and while he walked out of the hall towards the parking lot, relief that he was one day closer to the weekend. Steve liked the social aspect of school though he could do without the academic learning. 

As Steve walked towards the doors that leads to the parking lot, he swings his car keys around on his pointer finger, his mind wandering to you. Were you charmed by him and trying not to show it or was it hopeless to try and ask you out until you said yes? Wouldn’t hurt to try is what Steve settled on. 

Pushing the doors open and joining the rest of the school population that flees to catch a bus or a ride with their friends, he saunters across the parking lot, his freshly washed BMW sparkling against the sunlight. Just then, you walk passed him, your backpack slung over your shoulder. Before Steve can have a second thought, he picks up his pace, sliding up next to you. “Hello, y/n. Need a ride home?” Steve asks, tossing a pleasant smile towards you. 

You roll your eyes towards Steve. “No, I’m all set. Do you need something?” 

Steve raises her eyebrows, his eyes shifting from you to the parking lot that’s stretched out in front of him. “Just finishing our conversation that was interrupted by the bell earlier.” 

You laugh softly, shaking your head. You're amused that Steve conveniently neglects to remember that you were utterly uninterested in his offer and it was that fact, not the bell, that you left him in the cafeteria. “Yeah, it was totally interrupted by the bell.”   

Steve laughs too, missing the sarcasm that laces your tone. “Yeah, so what do you think?” 

“What do I think about what?” you ask simply, knowing that Steve is referring to Jason Carver’s party. 

“The party. Going with me.” Steve says, slowing down as you reach your own car. “It would be a lot of fun, casual if you want.” 

You shove your key into the door, unlocking it with a single twist. You lean down, tossing your backpack into the passenger seat, crouching down to sit in your car. “Jason Carver’s parties aren’t really my thing; parties in general aren’t really my thing.” 

A slight panic settles in Steve’s chest. “W-We can go out to eat instead.” 

You offer a sickly-sweet smile, your eyes squinting against the bright sunlight. You wave your manicured hand, offering a small wave. “Bye, Steve.” You slam your driver’s door shut, turning your car on swiftly.. 

Feeling defeated, Steve slinks away back towards his car, formulating a new plan in his mind. 

The following day, Steve brought a new sense confidence to school. He was going to ask you, again, to go out and hopefully you would be enticed to give him a chance - you had to give him a chance, right?

It was then, as he was walking out of chemistry, his head aching from the sound of Mr. Erickson droning on and on about isotopes and ions, that he spots you exchanging your textbooks in your locker, your pink frilly dress catching his attention. Before he can change his mind, he turns in your direction, striding over to you. “The offer is still open.” Steve says, leaning his body against the locker next to yours. 

You glance at him, the corner of your mouth upturning into a smile. “Hello, Steve. Stalking me again, I see.” 

Steve lets out a nervous laugh, leaning towards you. You smell his heavy cologne, the faint smell of hair gel. “I just saw you when I came out of Erickson’s class, it was pure coincidence.” You roll your eyes, batting your thick, mascara covered eyelashes at Steve. “Well, then.” 

Steve waits a beat, his eyes taking you in. He watches as you lift your thick U.S History book into the top shelf of your locker, exchanging it for an AP Spanish textbook, locks of your hair shading your face from his glance. “So, what do you say?"

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You never give up, do you?” You were amused, to say the least; boys have pursued you before, but seldom avidly enough to show up in the middle of the hallways, pestering your further. 

Steve shakes his head, “I don’t, and I won’t. I want to get to know you.” You suck your cheeks in, your lips puckering. You squint, making eye contact with Steve. “Why me?” 

Steve shrugs. “I’ve asked around about you, everyone has only good things to say. You’re pretty too, taking AP Spanish so you must be smart. I barely passed Spanish one.” You laugh again, holding your text books against your chest. “So, you’ve asked around about me, too. You aren’t very coy, Steve Harrington.”

Steve sighs in his head, wondering why he’s so loose lipped all of a sudden. His skin heats up, nervous sweat gathering at his hairline. “So, is that a yes?” 

“No,” you say, turning on your heel towards your Spanish classroom that is a few doors down from your locker. You glance over to your left as you realize Steve has joined you for the short walk. 

“Well, is that a no?” Steve asks glancing back at you. He realizes your classroom is close by as you begin to turn into the doorway. 

“No,” You say simply, standing in the doorway. He notices your playful smile, the way two dimples appear at the corner of your mouth, adorning your plush lips. You linger for a second, then move into your classroom. 

“I’ll pick you up at 9:30, then.” Steve calls after you, noticing students who walk past in the hallway giving him an odd look. He watches as you lift your hand, offering a wave, without turning around. Steve leaves the door, satisfied, though he knows he shouldn’t expect you to ease up on him in the near future. He’s got his work cut out for him. 

As you sit in your Spanish class, ignoring the lesson that’s happening around you, your mind swirls around Steve. You were breaking your own rules by entertaining Steve; you had made a vow that you’d ignore boys in high school, they were useless anyway, and focus on your school work, making sure you got high grades to get into a great college. It’s only for one night though, going to Jason Carver’s party wouldn’t ruin your potential of getting into Harvard. 

Saturday comes quickly, in the shape of a whirlwind in fact, and you stand in front of your closet, hands on your hips, as you survey your outfit options for the party that starts shortly. Steve would be around any minute. You decide to settle on a simple purple dress, tight around your waist, cut off at your mid-thigh. It was pretty, yet casual and effortless at the same time. 

While you waited for Steve to show up, your door wide open to ensure you wouldn’t miss the doorbell ring, you sit at the edge of your bed, English textbook resting in your lap. Studying before you left is the only way you wouldn’t feel guilty for leaving your pile of homework to go to Jason Carver’s party. 

After only a few minutes, the doorbell rings, echoing throughout your home. You grab your purse, slipping on short heels on the way out of your room. With small ‘clack’ noises, you make your way down the stairs, opening the door to meet Steve. 

"Well, don’t you clean up nice,” you coo, noticing the effort Steve put into his appearance. Nothing knew, you supposed, he was well known for being full of himself, standing in the mirrors staring at himself in the boys bathroom. 

Steve shrugs, his eyes unable to pull away for the way your dress hugs your body tightly. “You t-too,” he stammers, tucking his hands into his pockets. You roll your eyes, stepping out of your house, closing the door gently behind you. Steve follows you to his car, unbeknownst to you, getting a good look at your backside. 

Since he asked you to the party, you're all Steve can think about. Though he doesn't know you well, you fascinate him, drawing him in to learn more about you.

When Steve pulls up to Jason Carver’s house, the party is already in full swing. Cars clutter the halfmoon shaped driveway, people lingering all about the yard. Inside, grey smoke lingers in the hair, congesting your nose and throat. Loud music blares throughout the house, echoing onto the front lawn. It’s almost impossible to get inside the front door, too many scantily clad bodies filling the narrow hallways. 

Steve leads, grasping at your hand to bring you along with him. Under his touch, you shiver, feeling uneasy as being seen as Steve’s newest conquest. Whatever, you think, I’ll act as if I don’t know him tomorrow, it’s not a big deal.

As you weave through the thick crowd, people clap Steve’s back, mumbling ‘what’s up’ to him happily. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your friend Heather standing in the corner, surrounded by a few of your other friends. You feel a sense of relief, feeling annoyed with being associated with Steve. You wriggle out of his grasp, his head turning to glance at you. 

“I’ll catch up with you later,” you say, turning right into the living room. The kitchen, where Steve is headed, is to the left, in the opposite direction you’re headed in. Steve stands awkwardly, frowning at your decision to abandon him. “O-Okay.” He watches as you weave through the small crowd that’s gathered in the living room, slinging your arms over your friends, all of them welcoming you happily. 

When Steve has brough other girls to parties, they always opted to stay close by him, never leaving his side. Steve shrugs it off, weaving his way through the crowd that’s gathered in the kitchen. He makes it to the table, an array of alcoholic beverages strewn about. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Tommy lingering off to the side, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. They make eye contact, Tommy pushing himself off the wall to make his way towards Steve. 

“Where’s your girlfriend, Harrington?” Tommy says, watching at Steve carefully selects his drink of choice. 

“With her friends.” Steve says simply, his pride dripping away by the second. 

Tommy sighs loudly, shaking his head. “She’s not too impressed with King Steve, huh. That’s a first.” He claps Steve’s back, his fingers digging into his shoulder.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that.” Steve mumbles, popping the tab of his beer can open.  Tommy laughs loudly, shaking his head. He offers Steve a pitiful look, squeezing back through the crowd to find Carol. 

Steve takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid flowing down his throat. He suddenly has the urge to get wasted to attempt to heal his deeply bruised ego. Annoyed with the reality that you aren’t impressed with him as much as everyone else, he flees the kitchen, beer in hand, as his eyes scan the rooms of the Carver household to find you. Steve finds you sitting on the arm of a sofa chair, legs neatly crossed, beer in your hand, as you laugh with your friends who are strewn about the sofa. 

Noticing Steve standing off to the side, you turn your head, a smile already plaster on your face. "Steve."

"Enjoying the party?" Steve asks, his voice wavering. You shrug, taking a sip of your beer. "It's nice enough."

Steve stands awkwardly, your friends eyes lingering on him. Steve clears his throat, unsure of what to say. "Feel like dancing?"

Your friends giggle; Steve's awkwardness is so unfamiliar to them all, his confidence is well known across Hawkins High population. It was clear that you are what makes Steve nervous. "I'm good, I'm sure there's someone else that want's to dance though." You say, gesturing towards the crowd of teens that linger around the Carver household.

Steve frowns. He came to the party with you and you're telling him to find someone to bump and grind with? "I want to dance with you, not some other girl."

You raise your eyebrows, impressed by Steve talking back to you for the first time. You were getting a little bored with passing Steve off, his inability to function around you, seemingly nervous, was charming.

You look towards your friends; they shrug, mouthing "be nice," and "go dance." You sigh, kicking yourself off the arm of the sofa chair. "Fine, let's dance."

Weaving through the thickening crowd, Steve grasps your hand tightly, bringing you to the back porch where people have clustered together to dance. A boombox is set to the side on the ground, music blasting loudly with music from the radio. Groups of couples and friend groups gather together, their bodies moving rhythmically to the music.

Pulling you into the crowd, Steve places his hands on your waist, his fingers tightening on your hips. Feeling a little bold, maybe even flirty, you push your front against Steve, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Similar to wilting flowers, both you and Steve bend forward, your foreheads pressing together, as you sway energetically, your bodies bobbing up and down, side to side. You can't help but smile, your tough exterior slipping away. Steve was just a simple guy, his title of 'king Steve' was obviously just a persona he felt the need to act like. He seems innocent, caring. You were starting to like this version of Steve you have in front of you.

"You're beautiful, you know." Steve says, his arms tightening around you. "I don't think you're as tough as you like to seem."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You aren't what I thought you'd be, Steve Harrington."

Steve laughs, his eyes twinkling against the back porch lights the gleam against the dark night. "No? How am I different?"

You shrug. "I don't think you're as much of an asshole as you like to seem. I bet you're sickeningly sweet under all that."

Steve's nose wrinkles, his cheeks flushing pink. "I guess you'll have to find out then, get to know me more." Steve dips his face lower to yours, his lips hovering over your lips. You can smell the light scent of sweet beer and the smell of his cologne distorting your senses. You bite your lip, leaning in a centimeter further. "I guess so."

Eventually you and Steve get bored of the Carver party, the excitement coming to a slowing halt. You're exhausted, your body losing all of your energy on the dance floor with Steve; your feet hurt and you curse yourself for wearing kitten heels to a party.

Steve drives you home; the windows rolled down allowing the warm air to seep into the car, the soft wind blowing your hair around. You lean against the car window, feeling the air blow across your face. You smile, feeling content with the way your night has gone with Steve.

Steve pulls his car gently up to the front of your house, the outside lights flicked on, waiting for your arrival. You unbuckle your seatbelt, turning in your seat to glance at Steve. "Thank you for tonight," you say, folding your hands into your lap. "I, surprisingly, had a lot of fun."

Steve laughs softly, nodding. His hands tighten on the wheel. "My pleasure, I also had a lot of fun."

You smile, silence rolling over you and Steve. You sit back in your seat, biting your lip. Before you can speak, Steve fills in the silence. "Would you want to go out sometime, on a proper date I mean?"

You nod. "I'd love to."

[futfemfantasies]

I need another Katrina gorry pregnancy one 🙏

Time \\ Katrina Gorry x Russo!reader (Baby #2 part 2)

It's your 37th week being pregnant and you were done with it. Rolling over on your back, you let out a heavy sigh and look over to Katrina who's already staring. You attempt to lean over and kiss her but fail. Katrina giggles and moves the rest of the way. A look was given and Katrina is quickly around your side of the bed, helping you up to start the day. Just as you give Katrina a thank you kiss, little feet run into your room. Both of you look down to see Harper smiling up at you both.

"Are we have breakfast mama?" Harper asks putting her small hands on your bump.

"Of course princess, let's go"

Harper grabs your hand and pulls you down the stairs, with Katrina trailing behind with a hand on your lower back. You move to the fridge to get out some ingredients when you feel a sharp pain in your lower belly. You grip the door a little tighter and take a deep breath before turning around, putting a smile on your face before putting the ingredients on the counter.

"I'm going to lie down for bit" Katrina looks at you with a worried expression but you wave her off and Harper runs to you, hugging your legs.

"I'm fine princess, you make the best pancakes with Mummy okay?" Harper nods and you waddle down the hallway until you feel a hand in yours.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, go make pancakes with Harps" You give Katrina a soft kiss before walking into the bedroom.

Meanwhile, you sit on the edge of the bed and reach for your phone to call Alessia. She immediately drops everything and starts to make her way over. You feel a sharp pain and yell for Katrina. She comes racing in, with Harper on her tail, giving you an anxious look. You swing your legs on the bed and put your head gently on the pillow. Harper climbs on the other side of the bed and cautiously puts her hand on your swollen belly. A faint knock on the front door makes you relax as it's Alessia. Harper races to the door and screams when she sees her aunt. You explain to her that she's having a sleepover with aunt Lessi until baby brother comes. She runs up to the bed, climbs on again and gives you a tight hug.

"You do well mama, I love you"

"I love you more princess" A tear escapes your eye as you kiss the little version of Katrina on the forehead. Alessia coaxes Harper off the bed as she didn't want to leave you. Alessia tells you she'll let your parents and brothers know. She gives you a hug and kiss on the forehead before leaving with Harper.

Katrina climbs into bed, moving you gently into her arms. You look up at Katrina with a scared expression and she holds you just a bit tighter, making you relax slightly.

"Everything will be okay. I'll be with you the whole time. They will have to drag me out of the room" You laugh at Katrina's commitment but deep down you'd do the same. A wet liquid comes between your legs and Katrina spots it. The panic that sets in to your face worries Katrina. She your cheeks in her hands and kisses you softly before moving out of the bed. Standing up, Katrina removes your shorts before quickly changing you into sweatpants.

"At least take me to dinner first" Katrina lets out a dry laugh before standing up, holding your bump.

"Let's go have a baby my love"

After eventually getting into the car and notifying the hospital of your impending arrival, you take a breath as it sinks in that you're giving birth and your family is expanding soon. Closing your eyes, you rest a hand on your bump and a small but gentle kick happened right under your hand. You smile and press into your bump softly in return. A hand lands on Katrina's thigh and she looks over at you with a smile.

"Nearly there babe" Katrina grabs your hand and gives it a soft squeeze.

After check in, a nurse wheels you into your room and tells you the procedure. Katrina helps you into the gown, then into the bed. Katrina sits next to you and the waiting game begins. Ten hours later, you're dilated enough to start pushing. You look at Katrina and she whispers encouraging words in your ear. Five pushes later and you both hear those beautiful cries you've waited nine months to hear. Katrina leans in to kiss you quickly before going to cut the umbilical cord.

"Would you like to hold him?" The nurse asks Katrina.

"No, she can hold him first" Katrina follows the nurse back to you and watches as she places your baby boy in your arms.

"Hi baby, I'm your mama. Your sister is very excited to meet you. I love you so my boy" You place a soft kiss on his cheek when you feel something between your legs. Moving the gown out of the way, you see a pool of blood. Katrina immediately runs to find someone to help. Seconds later the doctor and a few nurses run in and start assessing the situation. A nurse takes your baby and gives him to Katrina and asks her to wait outside. Katrina protests like she said she would and you put a hand on her arm, quietening her immediately. You silently say you'll be okay and give a kiss to them both before she left the room. You keep your head back as the doctor works on you but as you talk to the nurse everything becomes dizzy and blurry. You grip the nurses arm before closing your eyes.

"She's passed out, get A- blood immediately!" The doctor yells as a nurse runs out of the room, alerting Katrina.

"What's going on?" Katrina quickly asks, standing up.

"We need blood for a transfusion, I'm sorry, but I have to go" Katrina moves to the little window in the door to see your eyes closed and the doctors working quickly.

A few hours pass and the doctor comes out of the room. She explains everything and that you're stable, expecting to wake up sometime soon. She walks in and puts the baby in the hospital crib before sitting next you, holding your hand. A small squeeze on Katrina's hand made her look back to you as you open your eyes with a half smile on your face.

"You needed a blood transfusion because you had a haemorrhage but you're okay now, just need to rest"

"I'm sorry for scaring you. We didn't even get to name him"

"Koby. His name is Koby" Katrina tells you since you named Harper.

"Harper and Koby. It's perfect, they're perfect. I'm sorry for what happened" You say as you start to tear up.

"Hey no it's okay. The main thing is that you both are okay and healthy" You move over slightly in bed and motion for Katrina to get in. You cuddle up to her the best you can and relax immediately.

"Sleep baby, we'll call everybody tomorrow and tell them the good news" You nod as you quickly send Alessia a text saying that you and the baby are fine.

"I love you so much"

"I love you more my love" You reply to Katrina.

You wake up a few hours later to Koby crying and Katrina picks him up, settling him straight away. That's why you knew he was going to be a mummy's boy. Katrina sits back down next you and Koby opens his eyes and he's got your eyes. After what feels like hours staring at your bundle of joy, you hear a knock on the door. You both look up to see Harper perched on Alessia's hip holding a teddy bear and a card and your mum walking in behind her.

"Hi mama" Alessia put Harper on the ground and she immediately came over to you "Look at the card I make with Aunt Less"

"Oh honey that's a beautiful card, thank you I love it" You give her a big kiss on her cheek and Harper climbs to the end of the bed near your legs with her arms ready to hold her little brother.

"You ready to hold him Harps?" She nods excitedly and Katrina puts him in her arms. You look over at Alessia and she lets a few tears fall down her cheek. You wrap your are around Alessia and pull her into you for a tight side hug. She kisses the top of your head and whispers that she's so proud of you.

"Well, what's his name then?" You mum asks.

"Koby" You say looking at Alessia as she suggested the name at the baby shower. Your mum passes Koby to Alessia and you swear she fell in love with him the moment she saw him.

"Hi there little Koby, I'm your aunt Less. I love you so much little man, more than you know"

After a short while, your dad, Luca and his wife come to visit, along with a facetime from Gio in Sydney. Everyone eventually gets the hint to leave as Katrina mentions Koby needs a feed. Alessia says her goodbyes to you and Katrina before hugging Harper goodbye.

"No go Lessi" Harper says into your sisters neck as she clings to her like a koala.

"I'm going to see you tomorrow munchkin. You need to take care of Koby and mama for me okay?"

"Okay. I big sissy, I can do it"

"I know you can babe, I love you"

"Love you Lessi"

Harper started to yawn and you check the time and it's nearly her afternoon nap. You move over and Harper cuddles into your side under the blankets.

"Love you mama and mummy and Koby"

"We love you so much Harper Ollie" You whisper before kissing her head.

"I love you, my strong girl"

"I love you all so much"

[the-record]

kissing lessons: 1

synopsis: ellie’s a year older and the smartest girl you know. such a shame she can’t stick around.

song: kissing lessons - lucy dacus

pairing: young!ellie x young!reader

warnings: none????

a/n: this was so fun to write and pt 2 will be out, this lowkey just sets up the next part(s?) also barely proofread, im lazy

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

“mom, can i go meet ellie?”

“did you finish your dinner?”

you hummed, setting the dirty plate in the sink beside her. “please? i did my homework too. and fed the dog!” she stopped washing dishes and looked to you. “pretty please? with a cherry on top?”

she sighed and rinsed a plate. “alright. but you come right home when the street lights turn on. okay?” you hugged her waist and slipped on shoes before running out the door.

she was waiting for you standing on the seat of a swing. “that looks dangerous!” you called as you ran over.

she turned back, hopping down when she was it was you and sitting properly. “says who?” you rolled your eyes and set at the swing beside her. “did you see mr. anderson today?”

you giggled and nodded. “i feel bad for abby, must be kinda embarrassing to have your dad as principal.” ellie nodded in agreement, humming a tune.

“i dont like abby.” you cocked your head at her, a silent question in your eyes. “she’s such a show off in p.e. and she gets special treatment because of her dad. so unfair.”

you kicked off, sending the swing into motion. “i think she’s smart. and pretty.”

“yea…” ellie joined you, pumping her legs back and forth to get higher. “my uncle’s in town.”

“your uncle?” she nodded, looking forward at the tree line. you thought for a moment before speaking. “have you ever even met him before? what’s he like? is he like mr. miller?”

she smiled softly. “he said to stop calling him mr. miller. said it makes him feel old.”

“he is old!” you both laughed, still flying high in the air.

ellie stopped kicking, though you didnt notice, very slowly losing air. “uncle tommy is nice i guess. his wife scares me a little.” she sighed before turning to you. “i didnt see you at recess, where were you?”

your feet grazed the ground as you came to a stop. “cole asked to play tag.”

“but you hate tag,” ellie said, getting off to stand in front of you. “did you play tag with him?”

you shrugged before nodding. “my mom said i should. says he likes me.” you kicked at the ground, staring at the wood chips moving. “boys chase girls they like.”

ellie huffed and crossed her arms. “but he’s mean, he teases you. all the time!”

“boys are mean to girls they like too.”

“that makes no sense.” she flopped to the ground, arms still crossed across her chest.

you got off the swing, sitting in front of her. “what do boys like?”

“i dont know… kissing i guess.” she averted her gaze as she said it, choosing the ground to focus on.

you were taken aback. kissing? only old people did that, you thought. how do you even kiss? what if he tried to kiss you, and you didnt know how? “do you know how to?”

“what? how to kiss?” you nodded shyly, meeting her eyes. “yeah. i could teach you tomorrow, after school. joel and tommy are going out.” you nodded again. “okay. we’ll walk to my place from the bus stop then.”

the lights flickered on, signaling your time to leave. “i better get going.”

ellie nodded in agreement, getting up and holding out a hand to you. she pulled you in a hug before pushing you towards your house and walking backwards to her own. “ill see you tomorrow!”

you smiled and waved as you both ran home, butterflies fluttering.

“who is this ellie character?” your mom looked to you in the rearview mirror as she asked.

you smiled, sitting up to tell her. “my friend. she’s a year older than me, but she lives across the street. mr. millers daughter.” your mom hummed as you continued. “she’s really funny and nice. im going over to her house after school today.”

“and mr. miller doesnt mind?” she asked as she pulled into the drop off line.

“no ma’am.”

she parked and turned around, a smile on your face. “alright then. you have a good day, and please be good at the millers.” you nodded grabbing your backpack.

the day dragged as you waited for the bell to dismiss you. when it finally did, you met ellie by the bus, clambering on together.

“i found lip gloss in sarah’s room. she told me i could have it because she didnt use it anymore.” ellie smiled as she told you the plan.

“i wish i had a big sister. sarah is so cool.” you both nodded before moving on to some gossip you’d heard that day.

you entered ellies house hand in hand and she pulled you to her room. giggling as you sat the on the bed, ellie grabbed the gloss from her nightstand and sat in front of you. you tried to keep a straight face as she put it on you, and she tried to when you did the same.

“okay, now do this.” she puckered her lips as you giggled. “c’mon…” you nodded and copied her. “okay. now we lean in and… close our eyes!” you felt nervous as she sat up straight. “ready?”

you both leaned in without a second thought, your lips barely touching before you both pulled away giggling. “this is so weird.” ellie agreed with you, nodding and smiling.

“good weird.”

you ‘practiced’ a couple more times and fell beside each other on her bed.

“was that your first kiss?” you wondered aloud.

she hummed, turning to look at you. “yea. was it yours?”

“yea.”

“what do you mean you’re moving?”

you jumped up from the bed when ellie gave you her big news. how could she be moving? she couldnt leave you.

“dad says he wants to be closer to uncle tommy. apparently he and maria are… ‘in the family way’ or whatever.” she picked at her cuticles, pressing down on her thumb when it began to bleed.

you groaned and crossed your arms. “thats so unfair!”

ellie’s eyes teared up and you sat down beside her, leaning your head on her shoulder. “im gonna miss you.” you whispered. “a lot.”

“me too.”

you had to have been mistaken. ellie had moved away so long ago, there was no way she was back. there was always new people filtering in and out of your town, must’ve been one of them.

but mr. miller was harder to excuse.

“ellie, isn’t that your old friend?”

the butterflies crept back in as she turned around, her eyes locking with yours.

“damn. you grew up.”

[heartsforvin]

hi, can you do imagine were vinnie comes back from a long trip?

DON’T LEAVE ME

cutesy lil fluff for you guys <33

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, use of pet names, sexual joke mentioned, pure fluff, if i missed anything lmk !!

summary: you don’t let vinnie leave your sight the minute he gets back from his trip

vinnie had just gotten back from his one week trip to europe, and of course you were the one to meet him at the airport.

the minute you helped him with his bags and got back in the car, you kissed him so hard he thought he’d die from lack of oxygen.

“never leave me again,” you breathe against his lips, both of you smile. “one week is too long.”

you caress his cheek and a sweet smile is planted on his lips as he looks at you with so much love.

“got some cool pictures though.” he breaks the sweet moment with a laugh.

you pull away from his face and sit up straight. vinnie’s hand immediately finds its home on your thigh once he starts driving back to your guys’ shared apartment.

◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

the minute the two of you got into your apartment, you pushed vinnie’s bags aside and dragged him into your room.

you didn’t want to waste any time apart. this might’ve come off as clingy, some might even say separation anxiety, but you just loved your boyfriend.

“baby, baby slow down,” vinnie chuckles when you swing your leg over his and snuggle into him. “i’m not going anywhere, my love.”

you smile up at him with so much love. you just missed him so much, you couldn’t help it.

the two of you barely had time to talk due to the time difference, along with vinnie’s busy schedule he had out there.

you just missed your boy.

vinnie kisses your forehead as he moves his thumb over your arm. “what fun things did you and hera do while i was gone?” he asks.

you snuggle into him more before holding onto him tighter, making sure he really isn’t going anywhere.

“same old shit basically,” you sigh. “had to work majority of the week, then i of course took care of our daughter.” you finish, looking up at him.

vinnie smiles, kissing your temple before untangling himself from you.

when you grab onto his bicep though, he turns to look at you and chuckles. “princess i gotta use the bathroom, let go.”

your grip tightens and that’s when he realizes you aren’t going to let go. grabbing your hand from his arm, he pulls you up and over his shoulder.

you giggle at the view of his ass, trying to reach down the best you can and smack it playfully like he does you.

“no smackin’ my ass, that’s my job to you!” vinnie laughs when he feels your hand on him.

you just laugh with him and do it again before he sits you on the counter in the bathroom.

“you happy now?” he asks sarcastically, you just smile and kick your feet in front of you as your boyfriend uses the bathroom.

once he finished up and washed his hands, he grabbed your hand in his and carefully helped you down off the counter.

“you gonna let me do anything in private?” vinnie asks once the two of you get back into bed.

hera climbs in with you, climbing on vinnie’s chest and laying on him. you move to lay on your side, arm draped around his abdomen.

“well duh, i’ll let you shit in private, i know how you are about that.” you joke.

vinnie laughs and looks over at you. “what if i wanna get off? you gonna sit and stare?” he asks, making you laugh quietly.

he looks at you, serious but not that serious about the question. “i’d just do it for you.” you reply with a shrug.

vinnie smiles and moves his body to face you, making hera run off his chest and onto the edge of the bed.

he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in so you’re on top of him, face to face.

“my pretty girl,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing you softly. “you don’t know how much i missed you.”

you blush at the name, even being with him as long as you had, every little name he calls you gets you flustered.

“i kept telling hera i missed you everyday when i got home before i fell asleep,” you informed, making the boy smile. “i think she got sick of it, on the second day, she stopped sleeping on the bed with me.”

vinnie let out a laugh, kissing your cheek. “i missed this.” was all vinnie said before hugging you tightly.

“i feel so safe with you, v. its hard to fall asleep when you’re not snuggled into me. im glad you’re home.” you say, hugging the boy just as tight as he did you.

this was his home — having you in his arms, breathing the same air as him. he don’t know what he’d do without you by his side everyday.

“i’m here forever, baby. i’m not leaving you ever.” he informed.

the two of you laid there, in each others arms as you basked in the feeling of being together again after being apart for what felt like eternity.

there was absolutely no place either of you would rather be.

this was SOOOOOOOO cute , i loved writing it !!!!

thank you for reading !! i hope all of you enjoyed !! <33

tags: @cosmicanakin , @anqeliclust , @native2princess , @visualbutterflysworld , @sturnioloshacker , @khackerr , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @laylasbunbunny , @kriissy4gov , @defnotayonna , @supabhad , @louloulemons-blog , @kayleighh , @hallecarey1 , @violet0182 , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @jpg3 , @eddieslut69 , @khxna , @miilzzy