#i start rolling around on the floor and kicking and squealing i love love love u guys thank uuuu 💘💞💝💕💖💞💗💓

[junkissed]

how it feels when ppl reblog my fics and say nice things to me

[witherby]

I need anything and everything of jason being Mouses favourite. (The Littlest Wayne AU)

They get a snack/ meal - Jay Jay has to take a bite first before they eat

They have a new toy- Jay Jay has to see and play

I’ll take anything you can think of.

I am obsessed. The AU is amazing

-🤍💜

Say less! I love Jason Todd and so does Flittermouse! By the way the word count is 3100+ lol oops

The Littlest Wayne: Fist Bumps

Masterlist is Here!

"This is stupid."

"Shut up, you're just mad you won't get picked."

Tim kicks Damian in the shin, who retaliates by kicking him back much, much harder in the ankle. Tim cries out, about to start a fight, but one stern look from Alfred settles them both down. They continue to sit beside each other without fuss, and soon everyone is all neatly lined in a row while Hal uses his ring to keep you safely suspended in a bubble, playing with a little rattle.

"Alright," Dick says excitedly, "we're going over the rules one more time! No jingling any shiny objects for Flitty to chase after, no getting out of line to get closer to them, and Bruce, no bare skin! We're gonna have Hal set them down and see who they come to first."

"This isn't gonna go the way you think it's gonna go," Bruce says, endlessly amused. "Please, none of you get your feelings hurt."

"Nobody's gonna start cryin', relax," Jason says, lounging on the floor between Damian and Hal. "Kay, we ready?"

A chorus of agreement follows, and Hal gently lowers you to the floor. They all immediately call your name, or variations of your nickname, waving their hands and patting their laps to get you to come to them. Your eyes widen, startled by the sudden rush of noise, and turn your head to assess everyone across the room.

You lock on to the man you want, the binky in your mouth bopping up and down excitedly, and you start speedily crawling to Jason.

"I KNOW that's fuckin' right!" He yells, scooping you into his arms and gently tossing you in the air a couple inches, then peppering your face with kisses. "I'm the favorite you little freaks. Kiss my ass."

"Okay, whatever, we knew that already," Dick says, "now it's time to see who the second favorite is. Put them down and go away so we can play again."

"Be nice to your brother," Bruce says. Dick flicks Bruce in the ear and he scowls. "Ow. Be nice to me."

"Fine. Gotta know who my competition is for the number one spot in Mousey's heart, even if I'm winning by a landslide." Jason carries you across the room and sets you back down. "You stay for a sec, kay? Pound it." He picks up your chubby arm and makes you give him a fist bump, then walks away from you.

Before they can even start a second round of the game, you're shuffling after him again. Christ, it's adorable.

"It's because they can still see you, Todd," Damian says, scooping you up to put back in starting position. "Duck behind the couch."

Jason rolls his eyes but complies, bending down until he's out of sight. When the rest of the family calls for you again, you shuffle forward like you're going to crawl to Hal, but you veer past him and around to the back of the couch to get to Jason again.

"Oh my god, they've developed object permanence already," Tim says. Jason's triumphant laughter fills the room as he lifts you up to give you more kisses. His endless delight and your happy squealing softens the blow to everyone else's egos.

"This game sucks anyway," Dick mumbles, crossing his arms in defeat. "What idiot even came up with it in the first place..."

--

"You ask."

"Uh, no? You ask? I don't care."

"Yeah but he tolerates your questions. I don't wanna get my jaw blown off."

"Then don't ask, dumbass. It's so easy."

Jason clears his throat, causing the two goons to stiffen up and turn to face him. One of them looks upset that he was caught unaware, and the other looks one wrong move away from pissing himself.

"Hi, boss," they both greet.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Jason asks, taking a half-step closer. "Cause last I checked, I sent you both over here to do quality control on our newest drug shipment. And I'm not seeing a lot of that gettin' done."

He turns to the more frightened man. If he didn't have his helmet on, he would've sneered at him.

"So what's the hold up? Need me to sew some mouths shut? Hmm? Want me t'cut out your fuckin' tongue? That'll motivate you real fast, I bet."

"We'll get right on it, boss," the other, clearly smarter, henchman states. "We were just. Uh. Wondering why there's... why there's a baby strapped to your chest."

Jason looks down at you. You stare right back at him, making a soft cooing noise around your Red Hood-themed binky, and reach up for his mask. He gently takes your hand instead, feeling your tiny fingers curl around the leather of his gloved pointer. He's smiling sweetly at you, despite no one being able to see it.

"This is M," he says by way of an answer. "Won't be an everyday occurrence — couldn't find another babysitter so I assured the dad I'd keep 'em safe for the night."

He doesn't mention that your dad is also his dad, and that when Jason tried to leave to do his vigilante work, you screamed the house down and would only calm down in his arms, therefore he had no choice. So here you are, strapped to his chest in a onesie padded with kevlar and vital-tracking tech, while your favorite brother carries your diapers and formula around in the same duffel he stashes his guns.

And because you're his favorite, too, he secretly hopes you throw more fits so he gets to hoard you all to himself again. Taking a few minutes to tickle your tummy or gently rock you in his arms stops him from losing his patience and blowing out the brains of several subordinates tonight — which his men clearly catch onto, because they all start telling him how nice it is to see such a cute and perfect and pleasant, life-saving baby hanging around.

Fuck yeah it's nice. S'cause you're the coolest baby ever. Jason gently makes you fist bump him.

--

"AHHH!"

Jason is out of his chair and bolting across the Manor before his brain fully registers your screaming through the baby monitor. There's surprised exclamations and footfalls not far from him as his thunderous steps stir up a commotion, but he doesn't care about that.

There are very few times in his life when he's moved this fast. Large, expansive rooms fly by him in a blur of color. He takes the stairs six at a time. If a door he needs to get through is closed, he's breaking it down with a well-placed hit with his shoulder and moving on.

When he gets to your room, he stops to yank the door open because he doesn't know if you're near it, and darts inside with a sharp shout of your name.

"What's wrong!?" He pants, zeroing in on you immediately. You've rushed into your wardrobe and climbed inside it, red-faced and crying as a crow flaps haphazardly around the bedroom. The shattered glass on the floor gives him the missing context, and he snatches the bird out of the air with more force than necessary while the adrenaline spike is still scrambling his nervous system.

Bruce is the second person to rush into your room just moments after, crouching by your hiding spot with furrowed brows and a soft, slightly winded voice.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. You whimper but shake your head, fat tears rolling down your little cheeks, and lift your hands. Bruce picks you up without hesitation and stands up.

"Jaylad?" He says, still in that gentle tone. "You alright?"

Jason doesn't answer. He's not alright, not really. The rage he'd built up thinking someone was in here hurting you is still burning through his veins, and with no outlet for it, he's struggling a bit.

Bruce doesn't take offense to his lack of response. He just offers you a small, reassuring smile and bounces you a bit in his arms.

"Let's go find Grandpa and snuggle up with some hot chocolate," he murmurs. "Jay-Jay will hang back and make sure your bedroom is safe for you."

"No!" You sob, leaning around your father's broad shoulders to reach for Jason. "Want Jay-Jay!"

"You can spend time with him in a little while, Mouse," Bruce says, starting to carry you out of the room. Your protests get louder and more frantic, pushing against him to no avail.

"Want Jay!" You repeat, sobbing openly. "Jay-Jay! Want, p'ease!! Jay-Jay!"

"Bruce," Jason utters through grit teeth. His father stops, only a few steps down the hallway, and turns back to him. "It's fine. I'll take 'em, you clean up the mess."

"...are you sure?" Bruce frowns, visibly cautious. He looks down at the bird still flapping helplessly as Jason holds it by the neck, firmer than strictly necessary.

Jason takes a step towards the broken window and tosses the crow out. After a second of frantic flapping, it straightens itself out and flies away with panicked sqawking.

He turns to you and holds out his arms. They're only trembling a little bit, but the edges of his vision are still tinged with green. Bruce hesitates to pass you over.

"I've got it," Jason murmurs, "I'm calm enough. Gimme my fuckin' sibling before you piss me off worse, B."

Bruce nods slowly. He brings you back into the room and hands you off to Jason. Your arms circle his neck and cling on tight, and you bury your face in his chest as you cry. It breaks his heart that you had such a bad scare. He can see the half-completed Lego build you were playing with on the floor in front of the window and hopes Bruce can get all the glass shards out between the bricks and carpet.

Jason carries you out of your bedroom and down the corridor to his. He leaves his door cracked open and flicks on lights as he goes, then brings you to the en-suite bathroom.

"Okay, Mousey," he mumbles, trying to set you on the sink's vanity. You clutch him tighter and whimper, and it drives a spear right through his chest. "Kid, I'm not goin' nowhere. Jay-Jay's right here, I just wanna make sure there's no glass on you."

A little more prodding and the compromise of you holding one of his hands gets you to relent. You sit miserably on the counter as your sobs slowly die down, and Jason tediously checks your hair and clothes for any bits of glass that may have landed on you when the crow crashed into the window. The slow, repetitive motions help quiet the last of his anger until he's just tired and concerned for you. He finds a couple tiny pieces, but your skin is unblemished and when he asks if you're hurt, you shake your head, which then calms him entirely.

"Alright, great job," he murmurs. "Come here, we'll go bother Alfie t'give us an icecream sammy before dinner and then cuddle in the main living room. Good plan?"

You sniffle, wiping the last of your tears away. Your cheeks are flushed and puffy. "Yeah, good pwan..."

Jason kisses the top of your head and offers you his fist. You gently bump yours against his, then lift your arms again to be picked back up. He obliges, refusing to put you back down for the rest of the day. When it's time for bed, you don't wanna go back into your room, so he spends the evening reading his current novel with a dim book light while you snooze away on his chest.

--

He's livid. Jason's got a hole in his leg and he can't run away from the rival gang leader pointing a gun at his head, and he's fucking livid.

"My first death was way cooler," he mutters. "Got blown up and everything."

"What the fuck are you saying?" The other man scowls. "I never could understand you through that thick-ass helmet."

"I'm saying, if you're gonna go down as the guy that killed the Red Hood, at least make the execution something fuckin' noteworthy," Jason rants, the pain making him bitchier than usual. He waves his hands for emphasis, pointing at the gunman much like a mother scolding her child. "Ohh I shot him and watched his brain splatter everywhere! So has every single marksman ever. I'm worth more than a bullet in an alleyway. The fuck do I look like, Bruce Wayne's folks?"

"Whoa, man," the shooter says, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his head. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad I'm gonna kill you. You're that mad I'm not gonna kill you...in a cooler way?"

"Excellent listening ears, bucko! Gold star!" Jason coos, clapping. "Immolation, decapitation, tossin' me in an acid pit — fuck me, I'll take a stab wound over a bullet! D'you know how skilled you gotta be to get close enough to stab Red Hood to death!? If not for me, do somethin' that'll raise your own paltry street cred, shit. You're so fucking boring."

The man doesn't get another chance to weigh his options. The darkness of the alleyway pounces on him, sucking him into the void while he shrieks like an animal. Jason slumps against the wall and watches the shapeless darkness warp and twist, the gun abandoned on the ground in the gunman's initial panic. He feels his heart rate slow when you step out after a minute, wearing a thick jacket over your pajamas and a domino mask over your eyes as you hurry towards him. A flash of irritation makes him scowl as he realizes one of the others woke you up for this, when you aren't even a vigilante to begin with. The culprit's gonna get their ass beat as soon as he recovers enough to track them down.

"Okay," you stammer, kneeling next to him on the ground with a first aid kit. "Okay okay okay...Alf — umm, Agent A? I'm here, what do I do?"

"Remain calm, Flittermouse. All will be well," Alfred soothes you over the comms. Jason feels the adrenaline steadily exiting his body now that he's registered that he's safe. Now, it's a fight to stay conscious so you don't freak out even more than you're currently doing. He's so proud of you for coming out here despite the blatant fear.

Your hands shake as you pop the kit open and pull out the field tourniquet. Alfred instructs you on how to set it up, and Jason gently adjusts it when you wrap it a little too close to the bullet wound in his thigh. He grits his teeth as you tighten it, refusing to make a peep, and gives you a quick thumbs up when you tie it off.

"Okay, I stopped the bleeding. Do I bring him home, now?" You ask.

"As long as he has no other injuries, the medical bay is ready for you to transport him back to the cave."

"M'good, Mousey," Jason says, lifting his fist. "Sorry you had to come rescue your cool big bro. S'not your job."

"I was the one who could get here the fastest," you reply. After a moment's hesitation, you bump his fist with your own. "You're gonna be okay."

"M'gonna be okay," he echoes, knowing you need that confirmation. "Saved my life, kid. I'll do all your chores for the next week."

That gets a wet laugh out of you. You hug Jason tight and the shadows of the alley pool underneath your bodies. Jason closes his eyes and hugs you back, a steady anchor in the free-falling sensation entering your darkness gives him.

"My heroics are only worth a week of chores?"

"S'better than the rest get," he says. "They get one chore. Not even a whole day, just one chore."

You bury your face in his shoulder as the void swallows you and him up.

"You're my favorite, too, Jay-Jay," you mumble. Jason smiles as he loses the battle for consciousness.

--

"Good afternoon; welcome to Truce Juice. Would you like a moment with a menu or are you ready to order?"

Jason leans his hip against the counter and takes a menu off the small, laminated stack you've got sitting there, glancing over the options. Behind the helmet, he smiles as he remembers all the late nights you pulled him and your other brothers into the kitchen to taste test these drinks and snacks, desperate to make things that would appeal to many people. He remembers how proud you were to graduate from your culinary courses and the victory cry you let out when you found insurance willing to cover the building.

You smile warmly at him, waiting patiently for him to choose something off the menu for the first time in your brand new business.

"Black coffee," he says, voice warped by the modulator in the helmet, "two sugars."

"What size?" You ask, tapping it into the screen in front of you.

"Large. And a turkey panini, with avocado and pesto."

"Toasted?"

"What other fuckin' way would anybody get a panini?" He muses aloud. To strangers, he would sound angry, but you can tell he's genuinely asking. You just shrug and keep the soft smile on your face.

"You'd be surprised. Your total's on the screen; will that be cash or card?"

Jason reaches a gloved hand down. It glides past the pistol strapped to his thigh, eliciting nervous gasps from bystanders in the cafe, and into the pocket underneath, drawing out a plain, tri-fold wallet. He pulls out two hundred-dollar bills and huffs at you to keep the change, then saunters over to the pick-up counter to wait.

He crosses his arms and watches you scuttle around behind the counter, genuinely happy to make food and drinks for anybody that comes in. So far, you're uninjured and you've been able to stop any rising conflicts in seconds, which he's endlessly thankful for.

When his order is ready, you hand it to him with another bright smile.

"Alright, mister Hood, here you go. Have a great day!"

Jason nods, about to turn away, when he sees you hold your fist out in his periphery.

He grins, heart fit to burst, and bumps it back.

[lolitakirstein]

CW:Implied smut, pregnancy, Toji being feral for you

Thinking about how Toji loves when your pregnant.

He loves watching your belly grow weekly, constantly comparing it to the week before. Your small little bump in the first trimester drives him wild. “I just look fat” you complain anytime he’d come up behind you and rub on your little pooch that had formed, not yet a solid form distinguishable underneath. “No baby it’s much different, you look so adorable, “ he’d softly pinch the skin, causing you to squeal. Your breast started growing rapidly as you neared your delivery date, and toji adored how swollen they were becoming even though you were still complaining about your changing body “None of my bras fit, they’re so heavy and sore,” “I know baby,” he’d coo at night while he palmed your tender breast to relieve the aches. “But you’re still so sexy. Your perfect tits swollen with milk to feed our baby. Fuck you’re gonna be a pretty mama.” You feared your changing body would make Toji less attracted to you. “Not at all baby, i think this is the most beautiful you’ve ever looked. All knocked up with my child,” he'd say from the couch as he watched you strolling around the house-more like waddling, in nothing but a large tshirt and panties.  “Real eloquent, Toji,” you roll your eyes.  The final weeks and days of your pregnancy were rough. Your stomach distended so big you worried if you breathed too heavily you would pop.  “Look at youuuuuu,” Toji would sigh, getting on his knees infront of you to kiss and rub your sore belly. “Our little guys gonna be big like his daddy.” Sure enough, your little bundle of joy was in fact a large, bouncing 9lb baby boy. And sure enough, Toji was ready get you pregnant again as he watched you breastfeeding your little creation in the rocking chair.  “God that’s about the most beautiful sight i’ve ever seen,” he breathed while laying in the floor of the nursery, absolutely swooning over you and your child. “Let’s have another.” “Toji! I just gave birth,” you half laugh half shout.  “Yeah?” he shrugged, reaching for your feet and massaging your achey ankles. “You’d look heavenly feeding my child while full of my other one” You playfully kicked him in the chest.

Honestly, Toji would keep you pregnant 24/7/365 if he could. The pride he felt seeing you busting with his child. How your skin glowed from the hormones. Even how your nipples would darken and enlarge, leaking with milk near feeding time- hell he even loved rubbing nipple cream on your sore nipples and breast, always trying to soothe you. 

And sure enough, not even a year after the birth of your child, Toji smirked as you showed him the 2 faint lines. “Mmmmm, get to see my baby all big again, fertile little mama.” You only half teased about getting him “fixed”, because you secretly loved being pregnant as well and watching the literal heart eyes pulse in his eyes. The massages were also a plus

[blockedbykei]

𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 !!

synopsis: every moon has their own star. and tsukishima loves his little star the best

— warnings: SO MUCH FLUFF, dad!tsukishima, made up name for his babygirl (literally just used google translate huhu forgive me 🙏)

tsukishima used to tolerate his mornings rather than enjoy them. when he met you, it started to become something he enjoyed, most especially when you both moved together and he got to wake up seeing you deep in comfortable slumber beside him, bodies entwined.

there was always something peaceful in the mornings— the soft muffled chirps of voyaging birds, the gentle glow of the sun basking your body through the window, his tired body pinning him down beside you, his muscles relaxed and melting against your shared bed.

his eyes blink the sleep off, a small yawn leaving his thin lips. you're sound asleep, a hand under your cheek, the other resting limply on his bare waist. tsukishima smiles softly, a hand reaching up to push a strand off your ear.

you don't move. he smiles brighter than the moon in the evening.

then he hears that familliar pitter patter of tiny feet across the wooden floor outside your bedroom. tsukishima perks up, nestling himself deeper into the bed pretending to be asleep. and on queue, his daughter opens the door, the silent creaks of the door a telltale sign she was plotting something mischievous.

and when he feels her tiny presence beside him, hovering over his back, he jumps and turns around, grabbing his daughter around her chubby waist.

"gotcha!"

hoshi's little squeals are akin to melodies, something he loves to hear every second of everyday. tsukishima carries her and sits her on his chest, his fingers squiggling on her mushy sides. he feels you stir beside him, eyes opening.

their smiles match and your heart swoons; hoshi was a little version of tsukishima, both eyes and smile— like halos over clouds. the hair was a mixture of yours and his though, and it seems like she was starting to get your complexion.

"papa, stooop," she giggles, little feet kicking at the mattress and pushing his hands away. "you're attacking me!"

"my no! i'm only giving you kisses," he rubs his nose on her belly. "you don't want my kisses?"

"i want them," you place your elbow on your elbow, cheek placed on your palm. tsukishima rolls his eyes, albeit playfully, and leans up to peck you. hoshi gags.

"ewie,"

"not ewie," you gasp. "is this...ewie?"

you and tsukishima lean to place matching kisses on either side of her cheeks, slightly wet to tease her. she yells, falling on her back and running away from your room.

breakfast was as energetic as ever. since hoshi has learned how to feed herself, she ate a lot as she did when she was a baby. it has always admired you; maybe it was something she picked up from you rather than her father, who, despite placing many food on his plate, ate less than you.

you stand in front of the stove, waiting for the beaten eggs to be cooked. tsukishima has hoshi wrapped around his waist as they emerge from the bathroom, the bottom of her face slightly wet. he was already dressed for work, white button down and neatly iron brown slacks, his matching blazer hung by the door; hoshi was already dressed in her uniform, collars askew.

he sets her down in front of the coffee table, facing the tv, and tsukishima sits behind her with hair ties on his wrist.

"can we listen to music?" she asks him, peering up at her father. "while eating breakfast?"

her love for music- it was something tsukishima has been plotting since she had been in your womb. those microphone thingies connected to your stomach was something he always used when he got home from work, blasting a new playlist, a way of introducing music to hoshi so that she'd be used to it by the time she came out.

miki matsubara revibrates smoothly in the living room. they both hum as tsukishima begins to comb her hair, splitting it in two. you remember his eagerness to be taught how to braid when hoshi was sound asleep when she was a baby, admiring her soft growing hair. so watching him flawlessly split each part into three and intertwine them made your heart turn into silk.

you place the finished eggs and spam on the breakfast table, sitting beside hoshi and resting your body on tsukishima's leg, reaching over to fix your daughter's collar. she thanks you, clumsily placing the chopsticks on her small fingers.

"you want ribbons on your hair, hoshi?" tsukishima ties the first braid, placing it over her right shoulder.

"yes please!"

"blue ones?"

"she doesn't have blue ones, honey," you look at kei, picking up a spam and feeding it to him. "she has pink ones though. you want that, hoshi?"

"yes!" she reaches over to the small box and picks out three pink ribbons. tsukishima carefully plucks it from her hands. "can i visit the museum today?"

you hum. "sure baby. i'll pick you up after school and go there if it's okay with papa."

"absolutely," tsukishima beams. "i'm gonna show you a little secret later, so you can't tell anyone, 'kay?"

her small "okay" felt similar to tsukishima's- slightly flat, though you could sense her excitement. when he finishes on both braids, he clips a pink ribbon on each pair.

when breakfast is finished, the dishes clink in the sink as tsukishima sets them to dry to the side. you grab the car keys, and hoshi stands beside you waiting patiently for his dad. when he emerges from the kitchen, hoshi brings something out of her pocket.

"what's that?" he crouches, eye level with her. she reaches out and clips the pink ribbon over his necktie.

"so we can match," she says. "if you take it off, i'll tell everyone the secret you're going to tell me later." her eyes narrow, playfully but he thinks is actually a real threat. tsukishima laughs.

"you get to hit me if i go home and i'm not wearing it," he kisses her on the forehead.

hoshi runs towards the car when you exit the house; her height, despite her young age, was enough for her to reach the latch and open the door.

tsukishima places a hand on your waist and spins you around, kissing you, lips soft and chaste. the way he looks at you has never changed, the same golden glint, same ardor, same mellowness; it was love incomparable.

it seemed to have amplified when hoshi came around.

"thank you for breakfast," he murmurs against your lips. "and thank you for hoshi."

thank you for hoshi was something he always said every day since she was born. it felt like an oath, a prayer he says to express his gratitude to all saints.

and before you could answer, the car beeps.

hoshi has leaned over the dashboard and reached her hands to press on the horn. her eyebrows are furrowed, and you can see her mouth gag playfully.

she also seems to inherit his easy agitation.

reblogs are appreciated! <3

[lewisvinga]

his lucky charm | carlos sainz x fem! reader / daughter

summary; even during the most stressful moments of football, carlos needs his good luck charm, his 6 month old daughter, in his arms.

word count; 630

warnings; ? idk pero hala madrid siempreeee

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; [requests are closed] I HAD TO DO THIS😫 i’m weak for madridista carlos and i saw a video of a guy holding his daughter while watching benzema score a penalty and it reminded me of carlos ! but also, el clásico win tdy w bellingol winner tho🤭🤭🤭

masterlist !

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

“Carlos, you know you can set her down in her crib, right?” Y/n asked again for the second time in 10 minutes, looking at the sleeping baby in her husband's arms.

“Ahorita no, mi amor.” [not now, my love] Carlos quickly shushed his wife as he kept his eyes on the screen.

Sometime around the second half, he had picked up little Catalina in hopes it would calm down his nerves over the Real Madrid and Manchester City match. However, when the match went into overtime, his nerves just became worse.

He was so nervous that he couldn’t help but rock back and forth which made his daughter fall into a deep slumber in his arms. It made Y/n laugh to herself. She was a fan of the Madrid-based team but not to the extent of Carlos who lives and breathes Real Madrid.

Her father-in-law even made a joke once that the Sainz’s bleed white, the team's official color. Sure, she was nervous because it was a knockout match for the top competition of club football but not nervous to the extent of her husband.

“Carlos, I really think you should put Catalina down before-“

“She’s my good luck charm!” Carlos exclaimed, holding the 6-month-old close to his chest. She even was wearing the white Real Madrid kit his father gifted them when she was born, making her even more of a ‘good luck charm’

Y/n playfully rolls her eyes at her husband's antics. She gets up to go to the kitchen to grab her phone and a bottle of water. When she walked back to the living room, she saw him biting his fingernails and kneeling on the floor instead of sitting on the couch.

“Carlos, what are you…” Her voice trailed off. She wore a confused expression as he held a now awake Catalina in one hand and the other hand kept running through his hair.

“Penalties, mi amor! Penalties!”

Y/n sat back down on the couch and held her phone up so she could record his reactions. They were down to the last penalty, the 5th one. If Real Madrid made it then that means they would pass.

Even Catalina, who doesn’t even understand what is going on, was focused on the screen as #22 for the Madrid-based team took his spot. Y/n noticed her husband holding his breath as the player swung his leg back and kicked the ball. The ball makes it in causing her husband to let out a cheer.

Carlos immediately stands up to his feet and holds Catalina out. “Mi gatita! Ganamos! Vamos a los semifinales!” [my little cat! we won! we’re going to the semifinals!] He loudly exclaimed to his 6 month old daughter who gurgled in reply. “Te dije, Y/n! [i told you] She’s our lucky charm!”

He holds her close and leaves kisses all over her chubby cheeks. Catalina squeals at the sensation of her father's beard scratching her face. She plants her hands on his face as he continues to kiss her, letting out fits of giggles.

Y/n’s heart melted at the interaction between her husband and their daughter. She knew he’d make the best girl dad the moment she found out she was pregnant. She was right, he is the best girl dad.

She couldn’t help but burst out into laughter when she heard Carlos start to sing the anthem of Real Madrid to Catalina who kept gurgling at her father's antics.

Y/n stood recording and quickly uploaded the video of her husband and daughter to Instagram, captioning it ‘a Madridista and his lucky charm🤍 hala madrid!’. She knew people would immediately fawn over their favorite driver cheering to his daughter, but for now, she was just enjoying the show he was giving with his not-so-perfect singing.

[thedevilsoftruth]

Little, tiny fingers curled into the metal chain of Bucky's dog tags, all followed with the sounds of a delighted giggle when the tags jangled together. It was moments like this that helped Bucky forget that he was never, ever going to be able to be a normal citizen and go back to regular life. Not when there were missions he had to complete for the government. It was part of his pardon. It was required, and it was the law.

But when he was laying on his back with his five month old daughter on his chest, with cinnamon incense being burned, and the house and dishes nice and clean, he felt like he was a normal man for once. When his daughter babbled at him, and grabbed his beard and tugged on his hair or gnawed at his vibranium fingers, he felt like he had everything he wanted and more.

The little baby rose herself on her knees and pressed her chubby, tiny hands into her father's face on both sides of his cheek. For support, of course. Either just to mess with him, she was just curious, or she was trying to escape him. But his eyes closed tight and he grunted sharply. He took her little wrists in his giant hands, scooting her back into a much more comfortable spot on his chest.

"Beccy," He cooed, tilting his head to the side, giving her a fake pout. "I'm wounded. Augh! I need a medic now." As he spoke, he dramatically let his body fall back onto the carpet of the living room with the back of his hand smacked onto his forehead.

She babbled. She clapped her hands by patting her hand against his chest. He grunted again. Sometimes he forgot that the super solider serum got passed down onto her.

"Ngh! Come here!" He said with a grunt and through gritted teeth, rolling the little girl off his chest and onto the floor. She giggled, kicking her feet in the air as he lowered himself down next to her. He brought his hand up, and she noticed the sign immediately. He was gonna start tickling her.

She was laughing before he even touched her. His big, right hand came down on her stomach mercilessly, his fingers poking and tickling her stomach all over while she laughed out loud and tried to scoot away from him on her back.

"No, no. I don't think so, missy." He laughed, waving a metal finger around, holding her down with his flesh hand. She squealed, reaching out two tiny little arms for him, trying to get him to stop tickling her. And eventually, he did.

Bucky scooped Rebecca up in his strong arms, and carried her off into the hallway. She babbled nonsense, her head twisting and turning in different directions as she looked at the world behind her father's shoulders. Her tiny fists were curled around his shirt, her mouth unhinged and already drooling over him even though he'd barley been holding her for 18 seconds.

"Alright," he sighed, opening the door of her nursery up, all to find you in there, rocking back and forth in your nursery glider, reading something on your kindle.

"Oh, hi." You greeted them. Rebecca noticed you and cooed, reaching her hands out for you. Bucky found himself helplessly smiling, and he reached your spot in just a few strides. You took the little girl into your arms, looking down at her with the warmest, most loving expression Bucky had ever seen.

"I thought you'd be in there for a little longer." You told him, grinning while you smoothed the babies brown hair back subconsciously. "Maybe pass out In her playpen again." Bucky laughed, closing his eyes and leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"What? No. I could never forget to spoil my best girl." He told you, placing his vibranium hand on your back, rubbing soft and gentle circles into your skin. "Especially not after all the hard work she puts in each day."

Rebecca looked up at the two of you from her spot in your lap as Bucky leaned in to peck your lips. There wasn't a single thought behind her big, blue eyes. Just curiosity. She reached her hand out, as if to protest against you both. But really it was just so she could grab hold of her father's beard again.

[olsenmyolsen]

A**holes With Cameras

master list

dark master list

Actress AU (Female Reader X Actress Wanda Maximoff) I know, I know! another one??? yes!!!

Summary: As you head to your new gym, you spot your favorite actress and an annoying member of the paparazzi.

Word Count: 2.7K

Content: Fluff, paparazzi, men, flirting

You sighed as you finally parked your car after trying to parallel park on the street for about five minutes. 

It was Wednesday.

What should be the third day of your workout week was actually your first. You had been too tired to go on Monday, and honestly, yesterday, you didn't remember your promise to yourself until you were brushing your teeth after dinner.

But now here you were at the gym.

Well, technically, you were still outside of it. But this had been the closest you had been to a gym in a while.

And it's not like you were unhealthy or that you lived a terrible diet or life. It's just that you wanted to help your body before it was too late. Plus, if your Almond Mom made one more comment during your monthly FaceTime call, you would actually lose it.

So here you sat in your car on the outskirts of the city of stars outside of a gym your friend of a friend Darcy Lewis hooked you up with.

However, before you could step out, a man in an ugly shirt and fugly jeans ran up and placed his body onto the hood of your car. "What the fuck!" You yelled as the man pulled out a camera with a long lens and zoomed in on a person walking across the street at the end of the block.

An Emmy Nominated Actress and the internets Mother: Wanda Maximoff.

You found yourself stunned to see her as you looked out and to the back from your driver's side window. Your mind thinking of every piece of media and content you LOVE! While the other part of you is squealing on the inside as your stomach does flip after flip.

How the fuck was she a model in just street clothes and gym wear???

Your thoughts of Wanda came to a screeching halt when, all of a sudden, you heard this agitating male voice. "Come on, Wanda! Smile for once!" The man on the hood of your car moved off and took picture after picture of Wanda as she passed by and entered your new favorite gym.

The sight and grin of the bald man made your blood boil.

So, as he admired his pictures, you honked your horn and gave him a good scare before grabbing your phone and water bottle and exiting your car. "What the hell was that?"

The man looks you over and tilts his head. "Excuse me?"

"Excuse me?" You mock back. "Yeah, excuse you, dude! First, you climb all over my car that I'm still actively paying off! Then you just harass and take pictures of somebody??" You bark at the man as you walk onto the sidewalk.

"Chill, it's just pictures." He rolls his eyes and starts walking away from you. "Still not right, you asshole!" You yell even if you secretly love them whenever you see them on social media. But you raise your head high and watch the man walk away before you enter the gym.

The lady behind the desk looks at you with a smile. "You tell him!" She sends you a thumbs up as you smile and shake your head before scanning the special gym card Darcy had to give you.

It was metal. Like what??

Anyways. You smile and walk into the large, spacious gym. It plays quiet music as you step onto the floor. Mostly, everybody you walk past on the way to the treadmill is too busy with their music and AirPods.

Shit, you forgot yours.

You sigh, hating the thought of being alone with your own ones. Still, you set your phone and water bottle down as you hit some buttons on the treadmill. "Woah!" You jolt as the belt suddenly kicks the speed up as it slowly starts.

You chuckle nervously to yourself and look around in case anyone saw you.

No one did but one person.

But they'll show up in a second. Because right now, your eyes found the bald-ass paparazzi douche through the window waiting across the street. You let out a deep, upset sigh through your nose and gave him a glare he couldn't see before your view became obstructed.

A side profile from a face sculpted by the goddesses themselves distracts your pretty eyes as Wanda Maximoff sets up on the treadmill next to you.

She briefly glances at you before she puts in her AirPods and starts up her treadmill. You don't mean to, but you stare longer than you should before finding yourself moving down the treadmill.

You snap out of her stunning trance on you and begin your workout.

Although you'd be lying if you said it was easy to concentrate on anything other than the tremendous and beautiful Wanda Maximoff. Because your eyes kept moseying on back to her again and again, you tried to stop and be normal, but your thoughts became clouded with questions.

Should I say hi?

Do I even talk to her?

How is her garden doing?

Will she ever stop wearing that row bag?

"Excuse me?" The voice of an angel forces your eyes up and over. Wanda Maximoff removes an AirPod from her ear and looks at you before she starts speaking again. "You're the one who yelled at the paparazzi, right?"

Wanda knew it was you. She watched you yell at him before she scurried off earlier.

You nod. "Ye-yeah, that was me!" You immediately feel embarrassed by your overzealous nature before closing your eyes and sighing. You open them back up and smile at Wanda, who has the corner of her lips curled up. "Yes, that was me."

Wanda nods. "Well, thank you. It's awful to deal with them." She says as you nod. You could imagine. Her twin brother Pietro also deals with it. The Maximoffs are kind of a household name after their sister Polaris started on a show when she was a baby. "Yeah, I'm sorry you have to." You politely respond and give her a sympathetic smile before she waves you off. "I chose to become famous."

"Yeah, but that doesn't give those assholes with cameras any right." You speak, making her pull her lips in with a surprised look. "Sorry." You say after a second or two. But Wanda shakes her head. "No, you're completely right. Sorry for my face. It's just... it's just nice to have someone be so candor..."

You knew all about Wanda's ex and how they cheated on her.

You offer a smile before looking at the window. Wanda doing the same following your eye-line. "Well, it appears I didn't tell him off enough." Wanda hums and turns back to you. She looks at her AirPods. "Do you want one?"

The bald man leaves your eyesight as you look at the darling actress of your life. "I- uh, no, yeah. Yeah. Thank you." Your hands shake slightly as you take it and place it in your right ear. Wanda notices the nervousness coming from you but doesn't want to bring it up and make it worse. "Do you have anything in particular you'd like to listen to?" She asks, her voice soft after speeding up her treadmill

"No. I'm down for whatever." You answered honestly as your brain caught up to the fact that you were talking and being friendly with THE Wanda Maximoff.

Wanda hits shuffle on her Spotify before looking up to you. "Well, I hope you like The Guardians." She says as an 80's inspired synth slowly starts filling your ear before an electric guitar breaks through and a man's voice starts singing about his girlfriend. "I've never heard them!"

Wanda looks back at you. "What!?" She looks shocked. "Peter Quill, Drummer Drax, Guitarist Gamora..?" Wanda says, hoping that something would click by offering you some context of the band members.

You shake your head.

Wanda grabs her phone. "Oh my gosh. Okay. I know what we're listening to!" She queues up the band's first album, simply titled Vol. 1.

You can't help but smile.

Fuck she really was as lovely and as charming as everyone always described her.

"I've become obsessed." She says, putting her phone down. "I can tell." You joke, making her playfully roll her eyes.

Was this flirting? Oh god, am I finally doing it??

"Carol Danvers got me hooked onto them."

That name made a ding go off in your brain, and words fell from your mouth before you could stop them.

"Oh yeah, you're doing a movie together!"

You tensed up quickly after saying that. Now Wanda would know you were not just a regular fan or avid watcher. You were an 'I have updates on my phone about things you do' type of fan.

Wanda looks to you before turning down the music one or two clicks. "Oh... I didn't realize you were such a fan." She says a little coldly to her warm words from moments ago. You stumble over your words. "Yeah- no, I mean, yes, I am a fan and know who you are, but- j- just forget I said anything or ruined this nice moment." You close your eyes and feel awful before turning away to avoid her precious green eyes if they looked at you.

The music goes back up with a click.

You sigh.

And a moment passes.

"We actually finished the movie already." Wanda offers, making you look back at her. "Oh really?" She nods, and you can tell in those same green eyes that the moment between you two isn't lost. "So, a fan, huh?" You nod sheepishly as her eyes look over your face. "I would've yelled at the asshole outside regardless of if it was you or not, by the way."

Wanda likes that and chuckles a little bit. "Well, I appreciate that. Is he still there?"

You look at the window and nod. "Well, you can yell at him some more later when you walk me to my car," Wanda says without facing you. She bites back a smile. You feel your cheeks flush. "You got it." You say and focus on getting your steps in as your face reddened.

"By the way..." You look to your left. "It's okay that you're a fan, honestly. It's just sometimes nice to forget and... and to have people talk to you for you." You nod and, after a couple of quiet seconds, stick your hand out to her. "I understand. I'm Y/n."

Wanda realizes she never got your name and sends an apologetic smile. "I'm Wanda." Her soft hand shakes yours before letting go. The touch sends shivers down your sides before you smile. "Let me guess." You start. "You have the look of someone who sings for a living?" Wanda smiles and lets out a loud laugh. Shaking her head and ducking her face when people around the gym look to her. "How did you guess?" She says, making you shrug with a grand look and smile. Enjoying this second chance. Even as you two lie about her profession. "Just had a feeling."

That feeling would transform into jokes and continuous small talk as you two completed your workouts together. Well, actually, you just did whatever Wanda did, which was a struggle. Her past roles in those superhero movies really upped her body fitness.

"So, how come I've never seen you at this gym before?" Wanda asked as sweat covered the both of you while she refilled her water bottle. "Did you just move here?" Wanda asks with a glint in her eyes. You shook your head. "No, I live around." You missed a smile Wanda got for one second. "I know a friend of a friend, and they got me in." Wanda nods. "Well..." She puts the top on her bottle. "I'm glad I got to meet you."

"Me too." You say like that wasn't evident as you hide your blush. But Wanda sees it like all the other ones today. Wanda knows and shares the friendly/flirty smile you send her before she leads the two of you to the doors outside.

"Shit, I almost forgot about him," Wanda mumbles as the egghead starts to take pictures of the two of you. Wanda, putting on her sunglasses, gestures for you to follow her. You join in step with her.

"Just ignore him." She mumbles as you walk closer and closer to her car. And you do ignore him and his need for attention until you feel like he crosses a line.

He brings up Wanda's ex, and you see her cringe and tense up. "It's old news! Now come on and smile!" He shouts and treats her like a dog, sending you into a blind rage as you, without thinking, shove your phone and water bottle into Wanda's hand and turn back to the man several yards away.

"Hey, Blob!" You shout, attacking how he looks. Which you would never do but fuck he deserved it as you stepped closer and closer. The man drops the camera from his eye to around his neck as Wanda and him watch you encroach. "Leave Wanda the fuck alone before the last thing that camera sees is your ass!"

The man sneers. "Touch me or the camera, and I'll see you in court." You watch him smirk and go to lift his camera back up. "That's what I thought."

Wanda watches it all unfold as you look back at her and at the man before you lift your hand. Careful not to touch him or his stupid ass camera but instead the strap around his neck. Wanda watches as, with one simple click, the strap comes undone, and his camera slips out of his hand.

Smashing onto the floor.

The man stands shocked at the damage before he steps forward. "I didn't touch you." You say with a shit-eating grin. "You fucking wrecked my camera!?" He cries out, making you smile wider. "No, I didn't. You dropped it."

You are never one for confrontation or smug comments, but there was something about Wanda and this disgusting man that made your need to protect shoot off like a flare in the night.

Plus, maybe that feeling of justice sent you flying back to Wanda's side.

"I've thought about doing something like that a million times." She beamed to you. Through her sunglasses, you couldn't tell how her eyes glossed over your face, but watching you now, something had changed for Wanda. "Well, I'm glad to make your dreams come true."

Wanda laughed as the two of you walked back to her car. Not caring for the man crying on the sidewalk.

"I must know, will you be back at this gym? I might need more cameras smashed." You smile and chuckle. "Yeah. Same time next week?" You said with confidence coursing through you now as adrenaline picked up.

Wanda shook her head as she opened her Prius door. "How about Friday? I know a great spot for some smoothies afterward."

This sounds like a date.

You did your best to hide the overwhelming excitement, but you don't think you did an outstanding job. "That sounds great!"

Wanda loved that. "Here, put your number in." She said, handing you the same device you listened to music with earlier—her phone. You looked up and back down before putting in your number.

You were not about to wake up if this indeed was a dream.

"I'll text you my schedule for Friday. See what time works best for us." Wanda sits in her driver's seat and starts the car. Letting the A/C blow her hair back. "Maybe we'll have to skip the workout and just go straight to smoothies."

You smile. "That wouldn't be so bad."

Wanda smiled back. "I thought so." She winked. "Fan."

You shook your head and closed the door for her before she rolled down her window. "Bye, Y/n!" She playfully sang before pulling out of her spot, blasting Vol. 1.

Wanda looked back at you in the rearview mirror and smiled.

By the time Friday rolled around, Wanda knew the gym wasn't happening and wore an outfit fit for a date.

Smoothies and pizza later in the night.

Wanda made a home-cooked breakfast the next morning.

dividers by @/benkeibea

[celeste-clearwater-06]

Oh my goodness, I went absolutely *feral* for your Kitchen Window series and would love to send a request! 🐛 - tickle fights With Raph x Reader, I've always pictured Raph being far more ticklish that he lets on and absolutely refuses to admit it at all lol

OUUUH GIRL I HAVE SUCH A SOFT SPOT FOR TICKLE FICS and also I COMPLETELY agree. ticklish Raphie for the winnn

also I went just a little overboard with this one, I'm such a sucker for raph fics lmao 🩷♥️

ticklish

bayverse! Raphael x gn! reader

desc- (big red is more ticklish than he lets on)

warnings - none!

word count - 1.3k

Most of the nights the boys come home from patrol, they’re exhausted. It’s straight from keeping lookout and impressive parkour across buildings, to coming home and sleeping the day away or lounging about quietly in the lair, with their own respective hobbies.

Not tonight though. Raph knows you’re already waiting for him in his and Mikey’s room. The thought of getting to home to you, paired with something exciting in the air makes he and his brothers rowdy, entering the lair with loud whoops and jumping off of eachother like they’re spiked off of an insane amount of caffeine. The first thing Raph does when he steps inside is strip himself of the gear and weapons wrapped to his body, letting it all drop to the floor like dead weight in the huge living area.

“Aw come on Raph, we just cleaned up this morning,” Leo’s complaints are brushed away with an eye roll.

“Gotta hot date waitin for me,” he makes the promise to pick it up later (even though he most definitely will not).

Raph’s grateful Mikey’s already parked his butt on the couch starting up a game, meaning he and you have the area to yourselves. He shoves his younger brother, just to piss him off a little, and then runs away before he can retaliate.

You’re already sitting on the top bunk, laptop open and smiling at his entrance through the door.

“Hey handsome!”

There’s that gorgeous face.

“How are ya, hot stuff?”

He all but runs over and climbs up the ladder to sit himself next to you.

“I’m great. I missed you.”

Raph grins and moves to pull you up in his lap, kissing the crown of your head.

“Missed you too,” he breathes into your freshly shampooed hair with a sigh.

You hit the play button on a movie neither of you had seen before and snuggle in closer, back pressed against his plastron, and his arms snake around you in a tight hug, chin resting on your head while it hums quietly.

He’s so comfortable, and he knows you are too. But god, is it hard to sit still. Raph’s still got so much leftover energy from patrol. He hates that you’ve already settled in place, and he’s trying to find something to do with his restless hands. So he does what he knows best.

That fucker.

You know what he’s up to when his hands slide down to your hips, grazing over them with a light touch.

“Raphael…”

“What?”

“Don’t you dare…”

“I ain’t doing nothin, babe,”

He emphasizes ‘nothin’ with a poke at your ribs, making you try and leap from between his legs, but it’s too late. Raph pins you with one arm, and uses the other to attack your sides without mercy.

“RAPH, STOP.”

His shit eating grin doesn’t yield, and neither does his tickling, pulling a loud, squealing laugh from your desperately flailing body. Your weak kicking and slapping only eggs him on further, digging his fingertips further into your sides. He tickles everywhere, because unfortunately, everywhere is where you’re ticklish.

This sucks so much. He grabs at your feet, your neck, your armpits. And all you can do is scream like you’re being stabbed, paired with weak, breathless laughing. Just the size difference alone is a struggle, holding your much smaller body down onto his bed. If this weren’t such a common occurrence, you know his brother’s would be rushing in concern with your cries for help, weapons at the ready. Unfortunately, you’re all alone in this one. He finally shows you a little bit of mercy, when you manage to get out that you’re about to pee your pants.

He’s just laughing at your misfortune, even when you slap his chest in annoyance and wipe tears from your eyes.

“You shithead.”

“Yeah but I’m your shithead.” Raphael just leans back against the headboard, arms crossed with that stupid smug face.

“Whatever.”

You know he isn’t half as ticklish as you are. If that, not at all. It’s still worth the effort of jumping on him and prodding at the thick, scaled skin of his collarbone with your much tinier fingers. Your boyfriend just deadpans. “Come on, sweetheart, you know I ain’t ticklish.”

You roll your eyes, and palm his face away from yours, whining.

“You’re so meannn.”

That fact doesn’t keep you from letting him pull you back over next to him and tuck under his arm to keep watching the movie. He kisses your head again, trying to coax you from your pouting. You can practically hear his eyeroll when you don't give in.

“Have it your way, then.”

In reply, you jab a light elbow into his side. And he flinches.

Raph doesn’t flinch, ever. You’re so much smaller than he is, so you know that any hits or shoves against him are all for not, even when you don’t hold back. It’s suspicious, the way his eyes are trained extra firmly on the laptop screen and refusing to meet your squinting eyes.

“You okay?” One of your fingers hovers over the skin between his plastron and carapace.

“Y-yeah, of course- AGH!”

Raphael leaps in the air when you poke him, screaming at a pitch that you’ve never heard from him before. He sounds like a girl.

Bingo.

“I knew it!” You throw an accusing finger in his face

His eyes are pleading, head shaking, while you poise yourself like a wild cat on the hunt, ready to pounce.

“Oh, no, come on babe,” Raph swallows, “I-It’s just a sensitive spot. You don’t gotta do this.”

“Oh, yes, I absolutely do.”

Now this absolute unit can fight just about anyone off. Hell, you saw, with your own eyes, how he and his brothers sent the Kraang back to wherever he came from. He’s nothing but muscle and scar enveloping a big, gentle heart.

But when you jump on him and tickle his sides, like it’s what you were born to do, all that training is utterly useless. He’s laughing, loud, and trying to push your hands off with strength equal to a cooked spaghetti noodle. And boy, do you relish in it. Finally, you get the excitement of holding your boyfriend hostage at your fingertips, dragging them over his sides and pinning one knee down on his chest for extra measure. His laugh is boisterous, broken up with gasps for air and little ‘pleases’ and ‘baby’s’ trying to convince you to stop. It’s all fun and games, until Raphael kicks a huge leg against the mattress for support, and sending him flying off the edge of the bed and disappearing from the top bunk, pulling down one of the knitted blankets with him. You gasp.

“OH SHIT.”

You feel horrible, moving at the speed of light to peek over its edge, seeing him leaning back against his shell and laughing even more now that hes made it to the floor. Once it’s clear that the tears he’s wiping are from joy and not, you waste no time in jumping down onto the floor with him, and straddle his wide waist.

“Oh come on, sweet thing!” He’s trying to romance you away from another tickle attack. Your wide smile is paired with lidded, playful eyes and you lean in just over his snout. Raph swallows thickly. A warm sensation tingles in his gut and it makes his heart race, and pupils widen. Your fingertips are lingering over his skin.

“You better remember this exact moment” his skin shudders at the low whisper of your voice, “In case you decide to try and tickle me again.”

A quick kiss to his nose is a stark contrast to the seductive tone you put on. Raph’s face heats up. You don’t tickle him, just stand and turn, and climb back up the ladder to his bunk. His incredulous stare twists into a playful grin, watching your hips sway with each step. He throws the blanket off, and hurries up behind you with a different plan in mind ;)

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

YAYYY MY FIRST REQUEST WOOHOOOO

Sorry this one took me a little while to roll out, I had to get some inspiration back in me after the kitchen window burned me out a little 😭

I HOPE THIS MET YOUR EXPECTATIONS, AND THANK YOU FOR SUCH A CUTE REQUEST, I LOVED ITTT

REBLOG, LIKE, AND REPLY IF YOU ENJOYED!!

Also, ask to join my taglist so you don't miss out on more writings like this one!! 🩷💓💕

LOVE YA BABESSSS 🩷💓💕🌸🧼🫧

taglist! - [ @ladyofparchments @well-its-not-human-anymore @raphaelsrightarm @chiliiscereal @moxfirefly @raphsgrl @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @rheawritesforfun @imthegreenfairy86 @aurora-the-kunoichi @angelhazeisaweirdo @raisin-shell @fyreball66 @redsrooftopprincess @its-a-me-emmabee @ahhhhhhhhhfuck @quitecontrary-to-mary @the-cauldron-witch @brins-rogers @yelocaltrashcan @pheradream-15 @asillysimp @miranexx @cinnamonskiss @le0n-ardo @silveritydreams @goldenflowerdragon @loveshrubs @glitterystarfishfestival @supersleepyslowpoke @floflodoesart @crimsonrubie @dumpster-fire3131 @hatothespanishpigeon ]

[dworkism]

HII LOVE YOUR TAMAKI WORK SM ALSO I WAS WONDERING IF YOU CAN DO TAMAKI X PREGNANT READER LIKE CUTE LITTLE THINGS LIKE THE BABY KICKING AND TAMAKI JUST HELPING READER WHEN EVER SHE IS HUNGRY OR PAIN AND WHEN THEY FIRST FOUND OUT ABOUT THE BABY?? 💞💞

HELLO ANONN! first of all, thank you so muchh! I'm so glad you enjoy my work!! <33 thank you for this ADORABLLEE request! I had much fun writing this short one, I hope this satisfies you!

❀˖° — suneater's sunshine

pairings : tamaki amajiki x fem!reader

warnings : a bit suggestive at the start, but tis all!

➤ masterlist!

Tamaki had always been the pretty nervous one in your relationship. Hell, it was such a sight to see him all flustered on your first night after your wedding. He couldn’t stop apologizing and turning his head away, although his eyes did betray glances to you as you lay atop of him. 

And now here you were, sitting on the toilet, your hand trembled slightly as you clasped the other over your mouth.

Two lines.

So plain to the sight, obvious, plain. You are expecting.

Your lips slipped out a single chuckle of disbelief, and your hand found its way to your stomach, as if saying your silent hello to the one growing inside of you. 

The bathroom door burst open as you rushed out to Tamaki, who was busy fastening his cloak. He jolted upon your sudden loudness, “W-what’s wrong, angel?” He cautiously asked, walking over to you to study your expression that contrasted his concerned one. Your smile grew wider as you slowly lifted the small strip of pregnancy test to him, your finger pointing to the two lines displayed on it as you squealed. “I-I’m..” You giggled in giddiness, “Tama, I’m pregnant! I-I’m pregnant!!” 

Tamaki’s hand felt stiff so suddenly, dropping his cloak to the floor as he rushed closer to you, his hand hovering over the test as his eyes flickered upon it, as if studying it, figuring out if it was real or not. “H-how…? What…?” His voice was small, disbelief and a hint of smile laced upon it. He scoffed a laugh, before looking at you, as his smile grew wide. Gently, he grabbed you by the waist, and you could definitely feel his hands slightly tremble as he did. 

With a smile, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, “Thank you, angel.” He softly spoke. 

His hand moved to your chin to tilt it up just slightly, enough for him to look into your eyes, smiling so lovesick-ly. Then he kissed you again, this time on your nose as he pressed his forehead on yours. 

Ahem..! 

He pulled back slowly, now grasping you by the shoulders as his eyes turned somewhat serious, although a hint of pleading was in it as well. 

“This means… you should.. uh… stop drinking so much coffee, k-kay..?” Cracked and nervous was the voice that came out of him, and you could feel the slight tightening on his grasp. 

You chuckled, nodding as you rolled your eyes. “Yeeess, Tama. I promise,” 

⋆˚꩜｡

A few months had passed, and Tamaki couldn’t help but squeak softly in fuzziness for every time he saw you on the couch, all round and soft from the pregnancy, and as much he felt kind of guilty for it, he just couldn’t help but take a picture, and would even adore it for moments, smiling softly to himself. But as he heard the soft groan from you as you got up from the couch, he immediately rushed to your side, softly pushing you back down.

“Where are you going?” He asked, brows furrowing as a warning. 

“The dishes–” 

“I’ll do them, r-right now.” Were the words he would say before rushing to the chore. It happens all the time.

Whatever chore it was, he would say those exact words. Dishes? On it. Cooking dinner? Already did it. Hell, as much as hates it, he even took out the trash for you, forcing a strained smile as he walked out the door to convince you he was more than happy to help you around (which he was). Because if it meant you would rest and not buzz around the house, he’d do it.  

At nights where your mood swings were the worst, he’d always be there, and maybe even cry along with you just because he was too sentimental seeing you cry. He’d be kneeled down in front of you, caressing your belly softly, kissing it while he hushed things to you like; “You’re so strong, stronger than me, angel.” or “Oh, y/n, you’re so beautiful, hm? So beautiful..”

I can't stress it enough that he's such a fuss before and after doctor appointments. The first time your baby kicked, he was whispering sweet things to your belly, saying how excited he is to meet the baby and how beautiful it must be, and- nudge!

“What– what was that!!” He cried out, pointing to your belly as he shot up from his kneel.

You simply chuckled, reaching to his hand to calm him down as you replied, “It’s just the baby kicking, Tama.”

“But– but–! It was so harsh! A-and…” 

“I-I think we should go to the doctor, Y/n, I’m kind of worried…” 

And he did end up taking you to the doctor after about ten minutes of back and forth of him begging you and you reassuring him it was normal that a baby kicks, and his replies were always; “I know it’s normal for babies to kick! B-but that one wasn’t!!” (his argument was that the baby had always been calm before this)

So after the doctor did say it was normal, then he’d calm down. Rubbing his hand over his chest like an old grandma. But after the doctor says that you might have to rest more seeing the baby’s growth, he immediately took that and ran with it. By ‘ran with it’ I mean he forbids you to even go shopping, and he ended up being the one doing all the grocery shopping. And if that wasn’t enough, the moment you two came back from the doctor that day, he called his agency to say that he had to take a break from his hero work.

His reasoning?

“M-my wife needs me,”

Goodness, he was acting like the pregnant one the whole time, and panicked the most at the smallest events. Don’t even get me started when you said you had cramps that time when you woke up in the morning. (He thought he had killed the baby accidentally by kicking it when he was sleeping)

dworkism | do not repost!

➤ masterlist!

[slavdollz4mangione]

“i’m a virgin (but this is an old shirt)” - luigi mangione x reader ✰

god bless britney spears for all those tshirts she used to wear AND my beloved @mangionebabymama for thinking of luigi wearing iconic y2k t-shirts

luigi was sprawled on the couch, controller in hand, half-heartedly button-mashing his way through a game he wasn’t even paying attention to. the sound of the front door opening snapped him out of his daze, and he glanced over just as you walked in, looking as effortlessly beautiful as ever. but then his eyes landed on the shirt adorning your chest and his jaw nearly hit the floor.

there it was, in all its bold, ironic glory: “i’m a virgin (but this is an old shirt).”

a slow, smug grin spread across his face as he paused the game and set the controller aside. “well, well, well, look who’s making a statement. is this some kind of retro fashion trend i missed, or are you just trying to mess with me?”

you rolled your eyes, dropping your bag by the door. “it’s comfy, okay? and it’s not like anyone else knows the truth.”

“uh-huh,” he stands up and sauntered over to you, his grin turning downright mischievous. “comfy, sure. but let’s be real babe, you wore this just to mess with me, didn’t you?”

“maybe,” you said, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably as his hands found your waist.

“you know,” he murmured, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear, “if you’re trying to send mixed signals, mission accomplished. but just so we’re clear…” his fingers tugged lightly at the hem of the shirt, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone that always made your stomach flip. “i’m more than happy to remind you why this shirt is technically false advertising.”

you laughed, shoving him playfully, but he didn’t budge. instead, he pulled you closer, his smirk softening into something warmer, more intimate. “admit it, you missed me today.”

“maybe,” you say again, this time with a smile you couldn’t hide.

“good,” his lips brushed yours in a way that promised the teasing was far from over. “because i’ve got all night to make sure that shirt stays really outdated… just to avoid any confusion.”

you raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “oh, really? and what if i’m not in the mood for your… reminders?”

luigi’s grin turned wicked as he leaned in, his voice a low, playful purr. “then i guess i’ll just have to be very… very persuasive.”

before you could respond, he scooped you up, earning a surprised squeal from you as he carried you toward the bedroom. “luigi!” you laughed, swatting his shoulder. “put me down!”

“nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’ with that infuriatingly cocky grin of his. “you started this by wearing that shirt, and now i’m finishing it.”

“you’re impossible,” you said, though the way you wrapped your arms around his neck said otherwise.

“yeah, but you love me,” he shot back, kicking the bedroom door shut behind him.

and as he set you down on the bed, his hands already tugging at the hem of that ridiculous shirt, you couldn’t help but laugh. “you’re lucky i do,” you said, pulling him down for a kiss.

“lucky?” he mumbled against your lips, his voice dripping with amusement. “baby, i’m about to make you the lucky one.”

[cosmopretty]

Nika Mühl x Short Fem

SO PROTECTIVE OF YOU

Always touching you in some way

Hand on your waist, thigh, arm around your shoulders, holding your hand

She loves how her hands dwarf yours

Always making fun of you for being short the team joining in too

You walk into the gym durning the girls practice and stand next to Geno. He smiles at you “Hello Y/n” he looks over at the girls and signals them to come over. The girls huddle around you both, and you smile at Nika and wave at her “Hi baby” you whisper. Geno tells them corrections they need to work on and what they did good at before ending practice. Nika smiles at you and hugs you wrapping her arms around your shoulders, your head in her chest.

“Hi Niks how was practice?” You ask moving out form the hug and looking up at the girl. She shrugs “Normal baby I just wanna go home with you” she emphasized the word home and smiles down at you. Azzi wraps her arm around you “Your always Nika come on girl hang out with us” she rests her elbow on your head. You push her off of you and squint your eyes at her “I was literally with you all this morning” you say.

Paige shakes her head “No no you were with Nika and we were just there” you shoves her and she doesn’t move. Paige pouts down on you “Aw the Smurf mad guys” you scoff and kick her in the ankle, she groans and holds her foot on her hand jumping up and down. Nike laughs “That’s what happens when you make my lil Smurf mad” you groan and flip your girlfriend off. You lift you hands up “Let’s stop making fun of me and talking about how KK is only 5’9 and playing basketball” you say pointing to the latter. KK raises her brows at you “I rather be 5’9 than 5’3 you dwarf” Nika walks over wraps her arm around your shoulder “Leave Y/n alone KK go focus on how to keep the ball in your hands” she rolls her eyes at the freshman player.

You lean your body onto Nika’s and Ice looks at her phone for a second “Yall let’s go to Canes they just started serving lunch and I’m starving” all the girls nod and go to the locker room to get there stuff and change. You stay in the gym with Nika, looking up at your girlfriend you smile at her “Your so hot when you play basketball you know that?” you ask. The Croatian girl smirks grabbing your waist “Yeah I know my pretty girl” you go on your tip toes and she leans down meeting you half way. She kisses you squeezing your waist while you move your hands to her neck. You both kiss for a moment before you hear the girls laughing Nika moves your head to her chest and flips them off “YOUR MAD YOUR SINGLE” she yells at them.

STEALING HER CLOTHES

She loves the way you look on her clothes and how her hoodies go down to your knees

Super protective when you guys go out

The team decided to go out to a bar tonight to celebrate their big win. You put on a small tight black dress with matching heels and gold jewelry. You go to the living room where most of the girls were and do a spin “What do we think?” you ask with an upside down smile on your face. KK squeals and bites her finger “WOW OH MY GOSH” she says squealing again. You shake you head and grab KK’s hands to make her stand with you, you spin her around “OKAYY KK I SEE YOU POOKIE” you yell hyping her up as she dances around.

Nika walks in with a long black dress matching yours, her straight hair falling down her shoulders. You smile at her and look her up and down “DAMN babe you look good” you say. She walks up to you and kisses your forehead before leaning down to whisper in your ear “You look so sexy baby”.

All of you guys end up walking down to the bar and all start going separate ways inside. Ice, KK, Paige and Azzi were sitting at a table on live. You and Aubrey went to the bar and ordered shots together. You clink your glass with her “Cheers” you say downing the shit with your head back. Nika watches you from where she’s sat next to Caroline and Jana. You turn around and go to the dance floor before swinging your hips to the beat of the song that was playing. Nike immediately gets yo the second she sees you dancing because she knows she’s not the only one watching you. She goes behind you and wraps her arms around your waist “Hey baby let’s go sit with the girls” she says not really asking.

You go to sit in a empty seat before Nika pulls you down into her lap. You wave to the live and take a sip from Paige’s Shirley Temple ‘no alcohol’ you look at the blonde and point to the drink winking. Nike wraps her arm around your waist rubbing your stomach, while she reads live comments from behind you “Y/n’s my baby she’s so cute ain’t that right” she asks you. You blush and kiss her jaw “Nika my wife guys” you joke laughing. You feel Nika tense behind you and you turn around and look at her only to find her glaring at some guy who seemed to be looking at you. Nika lets out a breath before grabbing your neck and kissing you moving her tongue in your mouth making a whole show for the people watching. You pull away and lick your lips “What was that for?” You ask the Croatian girl. She shrugs “He was looking at my girl had to show him who your belong too” she smirks. You raise your brows at her and squeeze her thigh that’s under you “Im all yours baby” you whisper and she smiles kissing you before turning your head with her hand back to the live.

She loves to go shopping with you and you both try on clothes together

She loves laying on your chest and wrapping her arms around you loving how they go all the way around you

Her hand in always in your back pocket or gripping the back of your shirt when your in a crowded place so you don’t get lost

ALWAYS POSTING YOU

She always checks up on you to make sure your eating and drinking water

Your her passenger princess

You walk outside the dorms hand in hand with your girlfriend. Nika let’s go and opens the door for you, you smile and get in putting your seatbelt on. She comes in the drivers seat and hands you her phone “Play some music moja bebe” you nod and start playing your playlist. She puts her hand on the back of your seat while turning back so she can start driving. She puts her hand on your thigh and starts rubbing it with her thumb.

She picks you up and holds you on her shoulders so you can dunk

Tried teaching you basketball but you couldn’t shoot for shit

She loves your height difference

The way your head reaches her chest makes her feel so proud

Calls you her “WNBA WIFE”

Loves mirror pictures of you both

Kisses your forehead 24/7

[miley1442111]

nervous night- a.hotchner

a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :)

you and aaron have jack (obvi) and a daughter, ellie. :) (2k + words)

summary: you see your sister for the first time in a long ti8me, things don't go so well.

pairing: husband/dad aaron hotchner x wife/mother reader

warnings: annoying family members, your sister is a narcissist, allusions to abuse, sad moments, aaron and reader shower together (not sexually)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nerves wracked your stomach. You hadn’t seen your sister in 4 years. Your sister was somewhat of a narcissist and practically made you her punching bag throughout childhood. She always had to be the centre of attention, always had to be pitied, and always had to be liked. It was exhausting. Now, you were a successful professor with a husband, a son, and a daughter. Aaron, Jack, and Ellie were the loves of your life, they were your favourite people on the planet. They had your back through everything, Aaron supported and loved you and your children were the most intelligent and polite kids on the earth. 

So, why were you so nervous for this dinner?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Aaron walked into the bathroom and saw the beautiful floor-length gown you had on for the evening, the flawlessly- applied makeup, and the beautiful way you had styled your hair, he was reminded of a fresh-out-of-the-academy you. Yes, you were younger than him, and yes, at the beginning he was named a ‘cradle-robber’ by the team but neither of you cared. You two were each other's everything. You had joined the BAU just after Haley’s death and Aaron and you grew close. It took about a year and a half before he made a move, since you didn’t want to take advantage of his fragile state. Since then, it’d had nothing but love between the two of you. A year of dating, marriage in Rossi’s backyard, and Ellie joining you only 9 months after the wedding. BUt when he first laid his eyes on you, he was sure you were an angel. You were so kind, so funny, so smart, so interesting. You were everything he wanted and more.

Years on, you were out of the BAU, a professor at a university nearby and Aaron had become a corporate lawyer.

“You look so beautiful,” Aaron smiled in the mirror as you fixed your earring. You rolled your eyes and chuckled. 

“You look pretty handsome yourself,” you smiled at him. His cheeks warmed and his smile widened. 

“The kids are ready,” As he was speaking, Jack walked in with Ellie behind him, an undone tie around his neck. 

“Mom!” Ellie smiled in your direction. You smiled at your grown children. Jack was 19 now, Ellie was 11. Ellie and you were so close, just like you were close with Jack. You started tying Jack’s tie without question as Aaron scoffed from behind you and Jack just smiled at you.

“What are you scoffing about?” You gave Aaron a playful kick and he rested a hand on your shoulder, standing behind you.

“I already did Jack’s tie,” he explained. “But he undid it so you could do it.”

“Mom does your tie every morning!” Jack reminded him and Aaron smiled, rolling his eyes. 

“I suppose,” he sighed as he picked up Ellie. “Are you excited for dinner Ellie?” 

Ellie squealed, trying to get out of her father’s arms as he mercilessly tickled her. You and Jack laughed at their shenanigans and you smiled at your lovely life. You adored your family.

You finished up Jack’s tie and gave him a hug, moving to grab your things when Aaron grabbed your waist. He pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, right beside your ear and whispered. “You’ll do great, you’re incredible.”

Some of the weight on your chest lifted. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The dinner was in a very upscale restaurant, one Aaron had brought you to for your anniversary just a few months perviously. You sat nervously waiting on your sister as Aaron sat beside you, keeping the kids entertained with a story from your time in the BAU. As much as the BAU was a very traumatic time for the both of you, it was still an amazing part of your life. As Jack pretended to not know the ending and Ellie listened with bated breath, you smiled at your amazing family, a sense of immense pride radiating from you. 

Then they walked in. What you thought to be your sister, her dark hair the same but… everything different from what you’d remembered. She seemed tanner, different, more-expensive clothing on her, and clearly luxurious jewellery clung to her. Her husband, a short man called Pete with his signature pleasant smile on his face, and three children behind them, all staring down at phones. Your sister, Maeve sat opposite you, Pete opposite Aaron, Liam (her first born son) opposite Jack, Joey (her second child) opposite Ellie, and their youngest daughter, Elizabeth sitting in a seat beside her father. 

“Y/n! How are you?” She asked, her voice sickly sweet and far too loud for the atmospheric restaurant. 

“I’m good, how are you?” You smiled. Well, here goes nothing. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was still a narcissistic bitch. Her husband was so conditioned to her bullying it seemed to roll off him, but it hit you deep. Aaron could tell how upset you were getting at her ‘not-so-subtle’ jabs at your life and choices that he decided to commandeer the situation and talk about something both him and Pete could talk about, their shared job, being a lawyer. 

Pete was a mildly successful lawyer and Aaron could tell his family lived well beyond their means, something he’d noticed since the beginning of the dinner. The children were all dressed well, she was dressed well, but Pete was in a second-hand, or old shirt. 

Benefits of being a profiler, I guess. 

“So, what do you like to do Jack?” Maeve asked your son, interrupting Aaron. 

“I like soccer,” He smiled, his manners were shining through and you couldn’t have been more proud. “What do you like to do?”

“Oh, he’s so cute,” Maeve chuckled like he wasn’t even there. “Liam plays soccer too, don’t you Liam?” She asked him, nudging him to look up from the phone his eyes were glued to. 

“What?- Oh, yeah. I scored 7 goals this season,” he smirked. Jack’s interest was piqued, he loved soccer. 

“Cool! What team do you play with?” Jack asked.

“I’m kind of between teams at the minute, what about you?” 

Jack was not one to show off, but he had gotten a scholarship to Stanford on his soccer talent and it was something he’d been extremely proud of since he’d started going there last fall. “Umm,” he mumbled for a second. “Stanford. I’m the captain of the Stanford team.” 

Maeve’s jaw dropped. Liam’s jaw dropped. 

“You’re the captain of the Stanford team?” Liam asked, shocked.

“Yeah,” Jack smiled. Liam chuckled.

“Congratulations man, that’s awesome,” Liam shook Jack’s hand in a friendly manner and you were happy Jack was being acknowledged by his cousins. 

“And what about you, little miss?” Maeve asked, brushing off your son’s talent. 

“I play tennis and I’m in a competitive dance team,” she smiled. “I love tennis though, I probably prefer it to dance.”

"Wow, how amazing!" Maeve's over-exaggerated enthusiasm showed something else, her jealousy.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So you’ve landed on your feet,” Maeve slurred. 

“I have,” you smiled as you watched your children chatting with their cousins in the garden, playing in the summer sunset. 

“The husband is pretty too,” she snorted, clearly far too drunk. “Might have to steal him.”

“There is no way you could steal me away from my wife,” Aaron phrased it like a joke, wrapping his arms around your waist, but everyone could tell it wasn’t.

Maeve fake-laughed as Pete smiled at the two of you.

“I can’t believe it, my baby-sister. You’re all grown up, taking care of a dead woman’s child and one of your own,” Maeve jabbed and you could feel your blood run cold. “I never thought you’d be a good mother, turns out I was right.”

“Pardon?” Aaron asked.

“I mean, yes, Jack is impressive but that was the work of your late wife, what’s her name again? Haley? And Y/n has Ellie in dance and tennis, I mean she clearly wants to give her daughter an eating disorder just like she had back in the day.”

Your heart dropped. You were so hurt by those words. 

“What the fuck did you just say to my mom?” Jack asked from the door to the backyard. Maeve had a triumphant smirk on her face. 

“Nothing that wasn’t true,” Maeve smirked. 

“Why do you always have to ruin stuff mom?!” Liam groaned. “They are actually cool and interesting people and you’re ruining our relationship with them because you’re jealous! Just give up!”

Shouting began. Maeve and Pete were shouting at Liam, Joey, and Elizabeth and they were shouting back. Ellie ran to you, burying her face in your side and you covered her ears. Jack settled himself beside you, letting you hug him close, his face in the crook of your neck. Jack and Ellie both hated shouting, they could not stand it. It reminded Jack of the day Haley died, and it reminded Ellie of a time you had gotten hurt on a case and been rushed to hospital, she had been with you when you were rushed to surgery and she could always remember the shouting of the doctors and nurses. 

“We’re leaving!” Pete demanded. 

“I fucking staying here, if Aaron and Y/n let me,” Liam shouted back. All shouting was silenced, and all eyes were on you two. You looked at Aaron and he nodded. 

“Of course you can stay here,” He assured his niece and nephews. “We’d be happy to have you.”

Pete and Maeve were deeply unhappy at that. 

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In the end, Liam, Joey, and Elizabeth stayed, Pete and Maeve practically disowning them and saying they would ‘drop their stuff off in the morning’. I mean, you had the extra space, you had three guest rooms in your house (one of Rossi’s houses you’d bought off him for a very substantial discount), and you truly did love them.

You tucked Ellie into bed and closed the door behind you, coming face to face with Liam.

“Thank you for letting us stay,” he said.

“Of course, we love you guys so much and you’re welcome here any time.”

“Thank you,” he said, pulling you into a hug. You could feel the small sobs wracking his body but you didn’t mention it, allowing him to cry into your neck.

“Do you want to go golfing with Jack and Aaron this weekend? You can offer it to Joey too. Ellie and I can take Elizabeth with us to get our nails done,” you offered, knowing they would probably be staying for a while. 

“That would be really nice,” he pulled away, smiling. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You knocked on Jack’s door, and he opened it immediately. 

“You alright?” You had barely got the question out before he wrapped you up in a bone-crushing hug. 

“I love you mom,” he stressed. “Thank you for letting them stay.”

You were kind of aware that Jack and Liam had been friends online in recent years, but clearly they knew each other better than you thought. 

“You two are close?” 

“He’s been telling me a bit about life with his parents and… it’s not good.”

You nodded, understanding what he meant. After sitting with him for some time, you wished him sweet dreams and moved to your own bedroom, exhaustion pulling at your eyes. 

You heard the shower running, knowing it was Aaron, you removed your makeup and clothes, then joined him. 

“Hi honey,” he smiled sympathetically. “How are you doing?”

“I’m here,” you yawned as his hands gripped your waist. “Looks like they’ll be staying for a while.”

“Should I look into papers?” he asked, grabbing some shampoo and softly running it through your hair. 

“Not yet,” you mumbled, allowing your eyes to close as he took care of you. 

“You looked so beautiful tonight,” he whispered against your skin as he kissed up your neck. 

“Thank you,” you smiled sleepily. “You looked very handsome.”

“Thank you,” he chuckled.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After finishing up in the shower, Aaron escorted you straight to your bed, where he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you silly, whispering words of encouragement and thanks for your strength. 

"And how do you feel about it?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Like shit, I feel terrible for them, and then of course, everything she said to me-"

"You're an amazing person, and mother. Don't listen to people who don't know anything about you anymore. The only contact you two have had in the past few years is through social media. She barely knows who you are, so her opinion doesn't matter," He assured you, pressing small kisses along your collarbone.

"Then who's opinion matters?" You smiled back.

"Mine, and I think that you're the most incredible," a kiss. "intelligent," another kiss. "sexy," another kiss. "beautiful," another kiss. "deserving of love and praise," a kiss to your lips. "Human being on the planet."

The chuckle as he continued his kisses and soft words and fell asleep quickly. He watched you for a moment, appreciating your beauty.

You were perfect. 

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[janeyseymour]

She Didn't, But Melissa Did- part 1

HEY BITCHES REMEMBER HOW I SAID THERE WAS A POSSIBILITY OF "SAVE ME BEFORE I LOSE MYSELF" CONTINUING ON?? YEAH- IT'S HERE. HERE WE GO.

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

Summary: Carrie didn't do a lot of things. But what Carrie didn't do, Melissa did with ease.

WC: ~2.7k

Millie is all grown up. She’s nearing thirty, she’s happily married with a little girl of her own. And yet, Millie still chose to keep her last name- your last name now too. Legally, Millie is Amelia Marie Schemmenti. She’s stopping by your house to visit you and her step-mother.

“It feels like it’s been forever since we saw Mill,” your wife chuckles from her place next to you on the couch.

“What are you talking about, Mel?” you laugh as you playfully swat at her leg. “She came by last week with Hadley.”

“To drop Had off so she could run to work,” Melissa sighs. “She wouldn’t even stay for dinner ‘cause Noah was home and gettin’ ready to make dinner.”

“Well, you know how it is,” you tell her. “Hubby’s home and cookin’ dinner. What was she supposed to do?”

“Tell Noah to get his ass over here so I could cook for everyone,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “He hadn’t even started yet!”

“Well, they’ll both be here today, and I’m sure you can convince Mills to stay for dinner. You know how our daughter still prefers your cooking to anyone else’s.”

“You’re damn right she does,” the retired teacher sighs. “And she should. My cookin’ could put anyone else’s to shame.”

“I don’t know,” you drawl out. “Millie’s a pretty good cook herself.”

“Yeah,” your wife huffs. “And who taught her?”

“That would be you, my dear.”

There’s a knock on your door as your wife and you are waiting for your daughter and her family to stop by, and then they’re entering the house and kicking off their shoes. Well, Millie and Noah take their shoes off before entering. Hadley couldn’t care less and runs as fast as her little legs will take her to join you and Melissa on the couch.

“Hadley girl!” Melissa grins as she lifts the four year old up into her lap and peppers her face in kisses.

“Nonna!” the little girl giggles. “That tickles!” It takes a few more seconds before your wife lets up, and your granddaughter launches herself at you, eager for hugs.

“Mommom!” Hadley squeals and plants a sloppy kiss to your face. 

Millie and her husband both approach the couch with smiles on their faces. Noah greets you warmly with hugs and kisses to the cheeks, expressing how nice it is to see you. And Millie lights up at the two of you- it’s like she’s seven all over again, just a little girl with so much love in her heart.

“Momma,” your daughter grins as she leans into your embrace over her daughter. Then she reaches for Melissa. “Hey, Ma.”

“You’re stayin’ for dinner this time, right?” is all your wife asks as she hugs your daughter tightly, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Yeah, Ma,” Millie laughs. “We’re staying for dinner.”

“Good,” Melissa smiles with a sharp nod of her head. “I’m makin’ chili.”

“Oh hell yeah!” Noah grins.

While Hadley settles herself on the floor surrounded by the toys that you and your wife keep around the house for her, you, your wife, your daughter, and her husband all begin to catch up on life. They tell you how much their little girl has been growing before their eyes, to which you respond that it feels like just yesterday Millie was Hadley’s age. Noah tells your wife about the renovations he’s been making on their house; your wife makes sure to put in that she’s more than willing to call a guy to help him for free. You and Melissa tell them about the trip that you had taken over the weekend to the Poconos to relax. And then the topic of their jobs comes up. Noah is a highly respected business man who has much success. His success only continues to grow, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he told you he was Senior Manager of the company within the next few years. And Millie is a journalist for the Philadelphia Inquirer.

“That’s actually why we’re here today,” your daughter says, and you can tell she’s nervous with the way she’s fiddling with her fingers- a habit she’s picked up from you.

“You need a reason to visit us now?” You raise a brow. “And here I thought us being your mothers was a good enough reason to come visit us with our beautiful grandbaby.”

Hadley’s eyes light up at the mention of her, and she picks her favorite stuffed animal on the floor before setting in on your lap.

“Well, no,” your daughter bites her lip. “But we- I came to show you a piece I’ve been working on. My boss wants me to publish it, but I wanted to run it by you first, Ma.”

“Me?” Melissa points to herself as her brows furrow. Her head cocks slightly to the side in confusion.

“Y-yeah,” Millie shrugs.

“Hun,” Noah reaches over to rub his wife’s back soothingly. “We talked about this. It’s okay- we both think she’ll like it.”

“I-” the usually confident and bright woman fades into a shy and insecure one right in front of you. “Uh… yeah. Yeah. I wrote it, and I brought it, and uh-” She digs through her purse for a second and pulls out a few pieces of paper printed big enough for Melissa and you to read.

While the print is rather large, both you and your wife still pull the reading glasses from on top of your heads and set them on your faces.

The title of the article is enough to make a tear spring to Melissa’s eye: 

My Biological Mother Didn’t, But Melissa Did- by Millie Schemmenti

“Mill, what is this?” Melissa looks to your daughter.

“Just- read it,” your daughter instructs nervously.

So, the two of you begin to read.

——

I wasn’t born Amelia Schemmenti. No. I was born Amelia Nowak- daughter to Carrie Nowak and Y/N Nowak, with Carrie having given birth to me. While Y/N, Momma, was and is the perfect Momma- the one every child wishes they had, Carrie wasn’t anything like her. Carrie was, to say the least, somebody who should have never been a parent or a wife in the first place. For the first seven years of my life, Carrie was an absent mother. She was there physically, but not mentally or emotionally. While Momma was up with me everyday, Carrie was busy either working, drinking, or cheating on my mother. Carrie was abusive- tormented my momma when she thought I couldn’t see or hear it. The truth of it is, I saw much more than any child that young should have. When I was seven though, everything changed. Everything changed because of one woman who would enter my life as my teacher, and remain in my life for the rest of my days. Melissa Schemmenti, my second grade teacher, saved both mine and my momma’s lives.

——

You have to pause your reading to wipe a tear away from your face. Even though all of that is long behind you, it still haunts you. It’s still a skeleton in your closet that you haven’t been able to shake despite years of therapy. It’s clear Millie still hasn’t closed that door entirely either. The thought of Carrie still lurks in the back of both of your minds.

“Millie,” you whisper tearfully as you pull her in close.

“Keep- keep reading,” she tells you softly. “It’s a happy piece, but I had to add a bit of the backstory to balance it all out.”

You nod shakily and lean back against Melissa to continue.

——

Miss Schemmenti, the rough and tough, no nonsense, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, was my guiding light. I knew there was something special about her from the start. For as tough as she played, Miss Schemmenti was had a warmth to her- one that few got the honor of seeing. I was lucky. She had seen something in me, and years later, I got her to admit that I was her favorite student.

——

“Do you think I would’ve adopted just any student of mine, ya buffoona?” your ma chuckles. “Of course you were my favorite.”

You just smile at her, and gesture for her to continue.

——

Miss Schemmenti, when things weren’t safe for us to continue living with Carrie, took us in. She didn’t have to, but she did. She allowed us to move in with her temporarily (reader: it was not temporary. She and my mother still live in that same house together) while Momma tried to piece her life together and figure out how the hell she was going to get away from Carrie. For three months, we lived in Miss Schemmenti’s house with her, and she did everything she did to keep us safe. She drove Momma to work, took me to school, made dinners, read bedtime stories… all while helping Momma with her impending divorce and a custody battle over me. Without getting into detail, the custody battle was a hard battle fought on both sides. And in history, stories are told from the winner’s point of view. Reader, I am the winner in this case, so you get to hear my point of view- I got to stay with Momma. I never had to see Carrie again after an outburst in the courtroom. And because I got to stay with Momma, I also got to stay with Miss Schemmenti- Melissa, I called her mostly now. On the occasion that I was especially tired, she was Melly, much to her dissatisfaction at first (Don’t worry, she got over it).

——

“I still can’t believe I let you call me Melly for all those years,” the retired teacher groans.

Millie lets out a laugh. “You wouldn’t even let Aunt Barbie call you that.”

“I still don’t,” Melissa huffs. “Woman knows if she does, she don’ get any of my meatballs.”

——

After all of the divorce hearings and custody hearings were settled, Momma and I settled into our new lives- away from Carrie. We settled into a life with Melissa. Things were… easy. Natural. A dream. I still remember the day that Momma and Melissa sat me down to break the news to me that they were dating.

——

“Millie!” You called up the steps. “Honey? Can you come here?”

Your little girl came jumping down the steps, curious why you would be calling her down into the living room at three on a Saturday. She saw you and Melissa sitting on the couch, and her nose scrunched just the slightest bit.

“What’s going on?” Millie asked.

“Hun,” Melissa spoke up from her place next to you. “We have to have a little chat.”

“About?”

“Millie, Mel and I have been talking,” you said softly.

“You guys talk all the time,” your little girl rolled her eyes playfully.

“Seriously talking,” you stated nervously. “And… we just wanted to let you know… that we’ve decided to start dating.”

“Dating?” Millie’s eyes went wide. “Like, dating dating?”

“There’s really only one kind of dating,” the redhead chuckled. She took your hand in her own. “But yes. Your momma and I are dating. Is that okay with you?”

Millie pursed her lips.

——

After everything Momma had been through with Carrie, I was terrified to hear that she was dating again- and my teacher, no less. But, if Momma wanted to date, I would choose Mel over anyone in the world for her to pick. I already liked Mel, and she already liked me. We already all lived together, and we had been for some time now. I remember thinking that day, even after all of my questions had been answered about this new change, that I hoped Melissa would stay nice- that she would stay the Mel I knew and loved. I had hoped that she wouldn’t change once they were out of the honeymoon phase of dating. Reader, I want you to know that my momma and Melissa have been married for seventeen years at this point, and they still aren’t out of the honeymoon phase.

——

“I’d say we’re out of the honeymoon phase,” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully and nudges you.

You shrug. “I don’t know about that one, honey. Just last night, you were-”

“Please!” Millie’s eyes go wide. “I don’t need to hear about my parents’ sex life!”

“Just last night, your ma was sharing her ice cream with me,” you finish. “Jeez, Mills. Not everything is about sex.”

“All I know is the last time we talked about how the two of you were still in love, I learned more than I ever needed to know,” your daughter groans, and her ears are red. “Keep reading, before I traumatize myself all over again thinking about it.

——

I remember thinking that I would never call Melissa Mom.

——

“You don’t call me ‘Mom’,” Melissa points out.

You watch as Millie rolls her eyes. “Just keep reading, Ma.”

——

As soon as I was aware of the fact that Melissa and my momma were dating, it was abundantly clear how much better life was going to get. My biological mother never did things for Momma just because. Melissa did. I watched Momma get flowers just because Melissa thought they were pretty- that they were Momma’s favorite shade of pink. I saw Melissa look at my mother in a way that I never saw Carrie look at her- as if she was the most beautiful person in the world first thing in the morning, bedhead and all. I never heard my biological mother tell my momma she was beautiful (and my momma is one of the most beautiful people I know, both inside and out), but Melissa still tells her to this day that her wife is a stunner. My biological mother never told Momma that she loved her just to tell her she loved her. Melissa made sure to tell my mother she loved her each and every day, once the two of them finally had the courage to start saying those three powerful words to each other. My biological mother used to walk out of the house without so much as a goodbye to my momma. Melissa, to this day, has not left the house without saying goodbye to my mother and letting her know she loves her.  My biological mother opened up a whole new world for Momma. She woke up the side of my momma that was easy-going and carefree, while Carrie did her best to bury that part of Momma as deep as she could. My biological mother couldn’t, didn’t want to. But Melissa did. Melissa did everything she could, and it would be for the best.

——

“You paid this much attention to us as a little kid?” the redhead raises a brow, although it’s clear she’s a bit teary-eyed at your daughter’s writing. She lifts her glasses back to the top of her head to wipe away the tears threatening to spill over.

You shrug. “I took in a lot. But I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking lately.”

“She’s right,” you whisper, and you kiss your wife’s cheek softly. “You brought out a side in me I never thought I would see again. Carrie did everything she could to rip that away from me, but you did everything you could to save that side of me.”

“It was always there, mi amore. You just had to find it again.” Melissa smiles at you. Then she turns to Millie. “Mills, this is beautifully done. If you want to publish this piece, I would be honored.”

“Well,” your daughter chuckles nervously as she pulls out another small stack of papers from her purse. “There might be more. I just… needed to see what you thought of the beginning before I showed you the rest of it.”

“Give it here,” your wife holds out her hand expectantly.

Millie hands over the papers nervously, tucking a few loose hairs behind her ear.

Red glasses slide back down onto your wife’s face, and the two of you begin to read once more.

TAGS:  (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @kmaxmadness @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule

[v1x3n]

D A D D Y K I N K

꒰ PAIRING : kento nanami x reader.

꒰ SYNOPSIS : after bratty words he did the only thing that would fix your manners, not his fault youre such a brat to daddy, is it?

꒰ TAGS : smut - punishment, spanking, praise, daddy kink, crying, thigh slapping and teasing.

navigation ⸝⸝ kinktober masterlist ⸝⸝ taglist

“I told you t’ count, didn't i?” your husband hums with a voice one would use on a child. “Let's restart, okay?” his grin grew when your hips shifted and your head twists, shaking your head so quickly you could get dizzy.

you mewl out, “m sorry!” sniffling then a yelp falls from you as kentos hand connects to your red marked ass, a hit so harsh that your whole body jerks. tears fall down from your face, water dripping onto the floor. your legs kick, trying to run away from the bent over posture you were currently in.

you were bent over in your husband's lap, after a few mean words were targeted at him he just couldn't deal with your bratty attitude anymore!!

your pants were taken off, showing your bare arse and your sweet hole, “d-daddy!” you whine loudly as you receive another harsh smack to your plush skin. “Oh?” he scoffs, rubbing the skin on your body, he coos as he looks over the blushing marks all over your cheeks. His fingers dip through and roll down your holes, teasing both of them. You whine and your body jerks forward, “count” he demands. 

“O-one” you sniffle as he hits your skin. 

Smack! Smack! 

Two harsh slaps deliver to your arse and you jump, tears roll down your face - gagging on the wet as you sob, “t-three!”

“Good girl” Kento smirks, leaving his hand displayed on your arse cheeks, his free hand petting your head. Running a hand through your hair while he lets you settle, your sniffles slowly stopping, a hand brought up to wipe your eyes but as soon as your tears come to a stop, another whack is delivered to your sensitive body, "four!" His fingers trail down to your neglected clit and pussy, collecting the slick in between your folds, his fingers running over the nub and flicking it, your entire body twitches as you cry out, sobbing once more. 

Tears fall onto the floor, splattering down as your husband tuts, “so wet f’ me, hm?” he coos and rubs your pussy, two fingers hovering over your hole and massaging around the sweet circle. His hand that rolls through your hair tightly grabs onto the strands, pulling your head back and you wince. “Say it” Kento hisses. 

“I-im so wet f-for you” whispering the embarrassing words while his fingers rub around your wetness before roughly trailing back up to your plush thighs. Slapping the skin of your thighs and slowly seeing the flesh turn pink. His rough hands impact you so heavily, your mind goes fuzzy due to the pain and you cry out, your moans mixed with agony fill out the room, “so good” he hums. 

“Daddy loves you” Kento whispers into your ear before hitting your arse and your legs squeeze together, ankles trying to twist together to stop the fluids leaking from your weeping cunt, “f-five, daddy! You mewls, crying out. His fingers traced patterns on your flesh, writing the word ‘mine’ over the skin of your thighs before taking a reddening spank to your ass once more. “six!” you squeal. 

“So so good f’ daddy, aren't you?” your husband's boner grew, digging into your ribs. Your arse stung, the red glowing and handprints imprinting onto your surface. You nod repetitively and splatter wet hits onto the floor. “seven!” whining out once more as another whacks your body. 

Smack! Smack!

Another two hits to your body. Drool starts to droop down from your mouth, slipping past your lips, rolling down your chin and joining the wet tears on the floor. A smack hit on your right cheek this time, a red splotch covering the skin. “N-nine!” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

The pain mixed with pleasure fizzed your brain, a cloud covering all of your thoughts. The only thing u could think of was him and only him, the way his cock was stabbing into you, the way his calloused hands smoothed over your cheeks before he landed the last hit aggressively over the right cheek. Ten. 

“ten , daddy! Ten!” you whine out, a slight relief washes over you as you realise you were done. “You sorry, baby?” 

You nod and his rough hands roll over the red marks he had input on your thighs and ass, “say it” you sniffle, trying to focus on talking, “i-im really sorry daddy, won't be a brat againn” quiet words but luckily he still heard. 

“Such a good girl f’ daddy” 

[cloveroctobers]

my man rates my outfits — MULTI [Fall Randoms] 🤎

A/N: just something random I decided to write for fun on my lunch break + slightly influenced by YouTuber: Isimeme Edeko’s recent video she did with her husband lol. I hope you enjoy this mess!

Synopsis: you’re a content creator who has a theme for every occasion and decide to get your man’s reactions on certain fits — OR — your man catches you rocking particular outfits.

WARNINGS: language, suggestive themes, flirting, + x fem reader!

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ──

[ROMAN] —

You were throwing ass to Ms. Ponytail who appeared on your playlist funny enough as you stood in one of your many outfits in your kitchen. Of course you got side tracked, filming a OOTN (outfit of the night), after your stomach basically told you to feed them before you ended up kissing the floor from lack of nutrients.

“Now what is going on in here?” A voice boomed as the song finished.

Whipping around like a deer in headlights with a truffle chip against your lips, you spotted your husband standing on the other side of the kitchen island, leaning on his elbows as he watched you in delight.

You warn after bringing the chip into your mouth, “You need to stop sneaking up on me, if you know what’s good for you.”

“You are…I was just enjoying the show. Especially that last bit.” Joe flashed his pretty teeth at you.

Playfully rolling your eyes, you finished chewing, “You could have seen it up close and personal if you did the trend with me but you preferred the gym.”

Joe would do very little trends with you, he enjoyed the ones more where you danced and he got to watch from behind…also he liked the ones where he got to show off his strength.

“I mean…with all that movement back there I wouldn’t mind another rep.” The bun wearing man licks his lips, pushing back from his elbows, “And that dress mmm…”

You’re wearing a skinny strapped two printed mini dress that definitely showcased your cleavage and clung to your waist nicely as you explain, “i was filming date night outfits.”

Joe hums again, caressing his facial hair as he starts making way around the counter, which made you step to the other side, earning you a taunting grin, “We can consider what we’re about to do a date night if you want?”

Clapping your hands together, you wagged a finger at your husband who immediately made you his prey, “No, Joe! I have to pick the kids up at four.”

He checked the watch on his wrist, while you tried to tip toe backwards, “Uh, uh, where you going?”

“I got to get back to work.” You tried to convince.

Joe chuckled to himself, “I know we both got something that the both of us can work out…and our main problem is still having seats open at the table so why not fill them up?”

He then charged at you with laughter that boomed from his chest, tossing you right over his shoulder. Honestly you thought five kids was enough but if you asked Joe, he didn’t feel like there needed to be any limits.

“Joe!” You squealed after he slapped a hand to your backside and gave it a nice wiggle after it bounced back against his hand, “We don’t have time—

“We’ll make time. I need to see more of them outfits after I’m done with you…but this one might be my favorite.” He admits as he easily walks with you around the house in search of the bedroom.

Sighing you claw at your husband’s back as he felt you trying to slide out of his hold, “Don’t you tear this shit, Joe. I mean it. The other one you messed up is still on back order.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll be alright.” He says, kicking the bedroom door closed before sliding you face to face in his arms, still holding onto you, leaving you to initiate the kiss after staring into his loving eyes.

It was safe to say, this date night outfit got a dick stamp of approval.

[JEY] —

the theme was: thanksgiving, you were already stressing out about some fits to wear a week before the big festivities, whereas Jey was more relaxed about it all. Don’t get it wrong, he likes to show out but he didn’t see the need in stressing over things weeks before they transpired. He would pick what he was wearing the week of or a few days prior.

However he didn’t mind helping you pick out what to wear either. Just based off the first outfit, you showed off as you approached from around the couch, there was amusement in Jey’s dark eyes.

He sings, “Okay, purple rain! Purple rain!”

Immediately your smile dropped as Jey continued grinning at you.

“What?”

Jey licked his lips, pressing his elbows into his knees as he surveryed you in some Metallic purple boots and a lilac blazer dress. It didn’t look bad…he just didn’t think it gave what it was supposed to give.

“Why you wearing purple? Aren’t you supposed to go for darker tones? Mustard yellows, chocolate browns, tans? I heard the color for this season is wine or something along those lines.” Jey explains, as he trails his eyes up the length of your legs.

Your arms are folded now, “That’s boring!” You start, while Jey raises his brows to peek at the wine tortoise colored set on your nails, which you folded behind your back, “I wanted to switch it up with the dark tones and do something fresh.”

Jey slowly nods his head, while he caressed his beard, “I get that ma but you did say the theme was thanksgiving and this got prince written all over it.”

He’s laughing again and it’s working your nerves.

“…It sure does smell like hater in here.” You sass, making Jey scoff.

“What’s with the attitude? You asked me to give you my opinion and this is just the first fit right? Let me see the other ones…as long as they ain’t all purple.” Jey mutters that last bit but you caught it.

Scowling you say, “No, I don’t think i will! You’re not going to get the privilege to see the other options since you just tried to drag me. I didn’t know we had Tyra Uso in the building.”

Jey snickers, not believing that you were this pressed over him not feeling the first outfit for the theme. He never said it was ugly or anything like that, the colors were off if you compared the blazer and the shoes but it still somehow worked. He just didn’t see it for thanksgiving but you were not trying to hear it.

Maybe he should have cut back on the laughing but he stood by his Prince comment. You chuck the gingerbread cookie pillow right at his face on your way out of the living room.

“Aye! There ain’t no need to get disrespectful, alright?” Jey was on his feet now, reaching over the couch in attempt to latch onto your wrist but you side stepped him.

He wasn’t the only athlete in this house!

“Y/N, you can’t be seriously pissed at a jokey joke?!” Jey held onto the edge of the couch as he watched you retreat around the corner to head back to your office/second closet.

Just as he heard the door creaking you yelled, “I’m going to get the opinion of a true fashion head instead because my husband is the worst!”

And with a slam of the door, Jey just shook his head to himself at how sensitive you wanted to be today, letting out a small laugh to himself, followed by a sigh, he plopped down on the couch just to be notified that you were on tiktok live, talking to your supporters instead.

Of course Jey tuned right in.

[TERRY] —

“Ol’ heffa!” You hiss, tossing more clothes behind you.

Terry dodges a heel that could have caught him right in the face but ends up catching a balled up jumpsuit? That was closer to hitting his face.

“Babe, what’s going on?”

You spin to the voice, hands on your hips, and half dressed.

“That heffa.” You balled up a fist, while Terry got closer to you, eyes wide as he glanced at the mountain of clothes that decorated the floor.

“I see you’ve been spending too much time at the salon with the aunties.” Terry attempted to joke, while you appeared as if you just wanted to swing on something or someone, “Alright…take a deep breath for me.”

Peering up into his spring green hues while he rubbed at your bare shoulders, you followed his coaching of breathing before letting out a groan.

“I told you I didn’t like our neighbor to the left but she personally handed me this grand invitation to her Christmas gala, like she does every year.” You begin to tell your fiancé.

Terry slowly nods, not understand what the issue is but keeps quiet, knowing you’ll tell him.

“She threw a jab at us, Terry!” You exasperate, “‘It’ll be nothing like your Christmas party last year, no itchy ugly sweaters and full glam for the greater good. You know what that’s like right?’ She had the nerve to say that to me?! She basically called us tacky like I won’t MINK her brain into a slushie! She don’t know who she’s messing with, T. My mom told me to cast the demon out and my auntie told me to ring around the Rosie that hoe but I heard your voice in my head instead.”

Terry felt a smile tickling its way onto his full lips, “Oh yeah?”

“Told her we’re not attending this year, we will donate to the foundation because that’s what it’s truly about, to help support HIV and aids, not acting like it’s a fashion show.” You respond making Terry nod his head at you taking the high road, “Then I took her invitation, put it in a blender, dumped it into a mason jar, with a red ribbon and put into her mailbox for her barely twenty-one year old boyfriend of the month to bring in for her.”

Terry dropped his head followed by the closing of his eyes, “You didn’t.”

“I told you I didn’t want to move to the suburbs but she keeps messing with me and I refuse to be shaded or bullied. I get along with pretty much everyone, except for her minions and that—

“Heffa?” Terry finished for you, which you pointed into the air with a dip of your head.

You knew your man would just get it.

“They’re just trying to get up underneath your skin since we’re the newbies in town. Don’t let them win.”

Tilting your head to the side you say, “Did you not block our neighbor across the street in with the truck because he kept blowing his leaves across the street into our yard? Even stood in front of his car after he tried to drive over his lawn to get away from you?”

“I don’t recall that.” Terry grinned at you while you stared at him in disbelief, “You just gotta teach people how to treat you.”

“Exactly! And if she keeps it up, I’ll cancel Christmas real quick for her.”

Terry laughs, pulling you into his chest to sooth you, “Relax, Tasmanian Devil. I got something that might uplift your spirts though.”

Gift giving was something Terry often did. It was always, “I saw this and thought of you,” and it could be little trinkets or snacks or anything that you enjoyed. He never missed with whatever he brought home.

It’s his black tux that he planned to wear to a friend’s wedding that was happening the day before Christmas Eve. He pulled it up from the bed and you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face now.

“I’ve been in here nearly all day trying on dresses for Crystal and Sherrod’s wedding and you’ve been holding out on this info?!” You touch the protective bag that contains the suit, “Try it on while I get the wine and the ones.”

Terry chuckles as you start to scurry out of the room, “And for my services of modeling this for you, can I help pick your fit since you seem to be having a hard time?…which shouldn’t be with all these damn clothes you got.”

“Be quiet, Terry. You better be lucky I’m not a bridesmaid, or else you and your little friend to the left might see hell.”

Terry gives you a side eye, “She ain’t a friend of yours so she ain’t a friend of mine.”

“And that’s one of the many reasons why I’m marrying you,” you sigh dramatically while Terry just shakes his head at you, shooing you out of the room, to start unzipping the suit.

When you return with two glasses and a bottle, you make yourself comfortable, glimmering legs crossed over the other while you cheered Terry on in his all black attire.

He sips at the red, carefully putting the glass back down on the nightstand and decides to change back out of his clothes, not wanting to mess anything up, although you both had weeks to go before your friends’ wedding, he still wanted to take precautions, not wanting to cause any more stress to you as well.

“What about this?” Terry questions, pulling up a black lace piece, “We’ll be coordinating.”

You were leaning on one of your elbows and laugh, “I could do a red lip but…If I wear that dress, we probably wouldn’t be attending the wedding.”

It still had a tag on it too.

“Just adds more excitement to spreading love that day and later…” he winks at you, while you feel your body getting hot, even half dressed.

Terry holds it up by the straps with both pointer fingers, “…Get up, it’s your turn to show me why you’re a million out of ten.”

You smirk as you sit up, “You sure know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Don’t I know it,” His eyes followed your movements with ease, as you plucked the dress from his hands, leaning up to let your nose brush against his, and just when Terry was ready to put his hands on your hips, you quickly slipped out of reach and circled around him.

It was his turn to lounge on the ottoman in front of the bed, enjoying his view as you got dressed up for him.

[CANE] —

“The fuck you got on?!”

“Now Lorenzo.”

“Don’t do that.”

“I know you better correct that bass in your tone.”

“And what’s gon’ happen if I don’t?” Cane quizzes, pushing off his knees on the edge of the bed to fold his hands underneath his armpits.

You side eyed him and he had no problem matching your energy.

After a tense silence you sigh, “Stop being extra and rate my fit!”

Cane scratched at his brow as he mumbles, “Was that not what I was just doing?”

You huff, “Your delivery is whack.”

“No, that outfit is.”

Your mouth drops open, as you looked over your shoulder at the mirror behind you before turning fully to look at what you put together. You sported a suede brown frayed jacket, a blue and white pin stripped blouse underneath that was left unbuttoned enough to show cleavage, baggy light-wash jeans, pointed toe boots, a multi colored silk scarf tied over your head, and a suede tote bag to go with it.

“What’s wrong with it? The theme is: bonfire in The West or Midwest.”

Cane sucked his teeth, “We’re in New York, cowboy Carter, in case your ass forgot.”

“Not for long!” You sing song, already excited for where you were spending Christmas.

Christmas’ in the city was of course special but the both of you desperately needed a vacation and Cane already hinted that Christmas would be your next vacation together. He just didn’t tell you where yet or even what to pack, although you kept pushing for some details, he kept that information on lock.

“I ain’t going nowhere where we might turn up buried alive for the buffalo to feast on, that includes: Utah, Nebraska, or at that cult bullshit Kanye likes to chill at.” Cane informed while you rolled your eyes.

“Wyoming, babe.” You sigh before posing in the mirror, “I’m not jumping to those areas particularly but i know I look good and nailed it.”

Cane snorts with a shrug of his shoulders, “If you say so.”

“You still didn’t tell me what you don’t like about it.”

Cane blinked at you, as you turned back around, posing as if that was going to change his mind. “For one I don’t like that jacket and that stupid ass scarf. So you lose points for that. You’re better off wearing my durag than that.”

Scrunching up your lips you respond, “You don’t get the theme. If I wanted to do streetwear then maybe. This is western with a touch of chic, babe. Keep up.”

“You wouldn’t normally wear that shit.” He argued, yanking on one of the fringes, making you stumble forward.

Whacking him with your bag you debate, “Maybe not but if there’s a code, you know I’m gonna body it. Just wait until I get you into some cowboy boots, then you’ll understand.”

“Some what?” Cane felt his own face scrunching up, “You ain’t never catching me in those corny shits.”

“If we’re heading to Utah for Christmas—

“It damn sure ain’t Futah and stop fishing, I’m not telling you shit until December 1st.” Cane told you, making you suck your teeth and stomp your feet.

He laughed at you, loving to see you squirm.

“So?” You urged him to give a score.

Cane went silent, taking his time to see the effort you put in. Although he liked to give you crap, he knew his girl could dress. He wasn’t a fan of this style but he already pointed out what he did like from the outfit.

“…I give you a solid six.”

“A six?!” You exasperated, “you’re supposed to always say a 10 outta 10.”

“I would be lying.”

“Wooow.” You tossed the bag on the bed next to Cane, tongue pressed into your cheek, slightly annoyed.

Your boyfriend chuckles at you, pulling you by the hand so that you’re positioned right in between his knees, “I ain’t say you weren’t cute…just that this ain’t Texas.”

A crooked smile plays on your lips then, as you grip cane’s face, “We’re going to H-Town?!”

“Did I say—

Cane starts but is cut off by your kisses full of excitement, which would soon turn heated.

He was fine in that moment letting you believe whatever you wanted.

[BARRY] —

Barry had to do a double take as you strutted around his trailer, searching for something.

“Aye.”

Your head snaps up as you’re on your knees, looking underneath the kitchen table. “Hey Bear, didn’t hear you come in. Have you seen my swirl hoops? Otherwise I’m just going to have to put my Dr. Pepper ones in.”

You’re bending over again and Barry can’t help but to be a peeping Tom. You’re dressed in a dark pinstriped denim corset, and a white flowy skirt that did not leave much to the imagination when you’re down on all fours. You always did say if anyone could see your birthmark, then that means your bottom half was probably too short. However that didn’t apply if you stood upright!

He didn’t know what earrings you were talking about, at all and he didn’t even care.

“Where you goin’ in that?” Barry ignored your question with a question of his own.

Bouncing back on your feet, you spin, skirt twirling as you did so, sitting on the nook chair to slip your feet into your shoes, “It’s girl night, I’m going out.”

“Oh word? I thought you said that brat girl summer shit was over.” Barry slouches on the couch, exhausted from his day at work.

You laugh, “It’s not just a trend, it’s a lifestyle.”

Barry snorts, “Yeah, whatever that means. You look good as hell, though.”

You smile at him in thanks, heading to the back to swap the one swirl earring for your signature Dr. Pepper earrings that you made (along with other styles) and sold online instead. Barry is behind you, leaning in the doorway as you peek at him in the mirror.

“Can I help you?” You tease while Barry shamelessly runs his eyes over the back of your thighs.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m sure you can. By cancelling your plans to hang out with me instead.”

“Oh no.” You whip around after latching onto the bathroom spray, “Kie already said you would try and pull this in the group chat after the pics I sent. Which is why I hoped I would be gone before you came in. You did this last month and I’m not folding this month so control yourself.”

Barry can’t help the dimple that pokes out as he keeps his arms folded, “I ain’t hear much complaining from you then, baby doll.”

“We deserve a girls night, don’t ruin this, please!” You kept the spray aimed right at your boyfriend, almost sitting on the pedestal sink.

Barry wouldn’t be selfish, although he definitely envisioned what the both of you could get into in this cramped bathroom. The both of you heard the horn beeping obnoxiously but the both of you kept your eyes on each other instead.

“Fine, I’ll let you go.” Barry says, “You gotta give me some lovin’ first.”

Turning your eyes into slits you cautiously step forward, making sure the bathroom spray is pressed into his chest, as you leaned forward to smooch his lips.

Of course Barry let the quick kisses last for only a few seconds before he really latched his hands onto you. He let his hands roam all over your body before pulling back to the point there was a bit of saliva that separated you.

“Have fun but don’t you dare let nobody up on what’s mine, you hear me?” He let go of your jaw and licked at the corner of your swollen mouth, “Well don’t just stand there, go on, get!”

With a slap of your ass, which made you jump, you side stepped your boyfriend who had a smug grin on his face, knowing that he would be on your mind while you’re hanging with your girls.

It was all part of the plan.

Cleo was surprisingly in the driver’s seat of Kiara’s pathfinder and as soon as you got into the passenger side, the girls all peered at you.

“Girl!” Kiara starts.

Followed by Sarah who was sitting on the floor behind the driver’s side appearing a little ill as she motioned to her mouth, “You got a little—

You shushed them with a finger up in the air while you pulled on the drop down mirror, “Not a word.”

Which erupted snickers between your friends before Cleo turned the music up.

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ──

FIN.

[corroded-hellfire]

Okay this is random but I work at a daycare and this little boy who’s about two years old looks exactly like his dad and their eyes are just so blue and distinctive but he has his mom’s hair and I was just wondering if you could write something like that with Eddie x reader, I just think it would be so cute to see their little mini me ! I love your work so sos much no pressure if you don’t want to of course:) 

Eddie as a father? If only I had some experience writing that 😜 I hope you enjoy your and Eddie’s little mini me!

Words: 900

“Can you believe it?”

“No. I mean, it’s been two years and no.”

Max and Dustin sit on the floor of your living room, watching your son rummage through the toy box on the other side of the deep brown coffee table until he finds something suitable to play with his babysitters.

Bret settles on his Fisher Price Rescue Hero action figures and tries to collect as many of them in his tiny arms as he can. A few curly strands of hair fall into his eyes which he shakes out of the way as well as he can manage in this position. Satisfied with the haul he’s gathered, he lugs himself out of the toy box and toddles back over to his favorite aunt and uncle. At least that’s what Max and Dustin tell themselves. 

“He’s like their clone,” Max speaks softly as Bret sits down and spreads the toys around his small body to get a better look. “Dad’s hair curls. Mom’s hair color.”

“Dad’s eye color, Mom’s skin tone. Jesus, I’d swear Eddie grew him in a lab if he knew the first thing about science.”

“Technically, Bret is here because of biology,” Max teases as the two-year-old in question hands the redhead a construction worker action figure.

“The one aspect of science Eddie’s willing to experiment with time and time again,” Dustin says. 

“Hmm?” the little boy asks Max, having heard her say his name.

“Huh?” Max asks, looking down at the youngest Munson. “Oh. Um, what game are we playing?”

“We playin’ heroes!” Bret announces, having the firefighting action figure he’s holding fly in an arc over his head. 

“Are they superheroes?” Dustin asks. He lays flat on his stomach to be more on an equal level with the toddler. Action figures of every occupation are spread out in front of him on the plush navy blue carpet. 

“Not all,” Bret says with a shrug, which is the spitting image of one of your usual quirks. 

“Which one do you want to be?” Max asks. 

Bret’s eyes scan the variety of toys laid out around him, his small tongue peeking out from between his lips as he thinks about it. Max can’t help but chuckle at the familiar image in front of her, just on a smaller scale. 

“I don’t know!” Bret pouts, his lower lip jutting out. He slumps down on the carpet, his head coming to rest on his Uncle Dusty’s shoulder. 

“Aw, come on, Mini Munson.” Dustin rolls onto his back and lifts Bret over his head. The two-year-old giggles wildly and starts to kick his feet as if he’s trying to swim away. The laughter is so loud and piercing that none of the three hear the front door opening.

“Careful,” Eddie says as he walks into the room, you trailing just behind him. “He had a few waffles for breakfast, and I don’t want to see them come back up over Uncle Dusty’s face.”

Bret giggles—slightly evilly—as if this would be hilarious.

You set your purse down and slip your shoes off, throwing Max a smile.

“How was the troublemaker?”

“The usual amount of trouble,” she tells you.

“So, nowhere near as much as his father. Got it.” 

Your husband walks towards Dustin, ready to scoop your son up out of his grip, but the little boy squeals and dodges his hands.

“Hey,” Eddie pouts, which only makes Bret giggle. “Bret Michael Munson. Are you trying to escape your old man?”

“Yeah!” he replies cheerfully, making Dustin laugh. 

Eddie softly kicks his best friend’s shoulder with his socked foot. 

Across the room, Max accepts the glass of water you hand her.

“How was your afternoon date?” she asks.

“It was fun. The weather’s really nice and I beat Eddie by three points because he couldn’t hit his ball through the little windmill,” you say with a giggle.

“You’re definitely going to have to be the one to teach Bret to play mini golf,” Max says. 

The two of you look over to your son, where he seems to be the object of a game of keep away between Eddie and Dustin. Bret giggles wildly, his face scrunching up in a way that makes the tip of his nose wiggle.

“It’s so crazy how much he looks like you when he scrunches his face like that,” Max says, shaking her head in amazement. 

Bret must’ve caught his aunt’s words because he looks over at the two of you, a tiny furrow between his brows.

“But Mommy’s a girl!” he protests. 

You blow him a kiss and he’s quickly sucked back into whatever game he’s playing with the guys. 

Once Bret is tuckered out from the roughhousing, he plops down on Dustin’s chest and Eddie makes his way over to you. He catches wind of your and Max’s conversation of how your son looks just like the two of you. When Max slips away to grab her things, Eddie places his hands on your hips from behind and rests his chin on your shoulder. 

“Wanna make another one and see if they look more like you or me?”

Just the thought sends a pleasant tingle down your spine.

“You’re on, Munson. Meet me in our room. Nap time.”

“Bret’s or mine?”

A snort of laughter bursts out of you, causing Eddie to smile and only hold onto you tighter.