#AND MY MOM STARTS. SWINGING HER ARMS AT HIM

[ultrone]

hii !! i love ur work so much, how about reader taking care of pregnant shauna in the wilderness

lets pretend that her baby made it :(

𓂃  ⊹ reader being the wilderness dad that stepped up 🗣️💪🏻

while pregnant…

you often found yourself walking on eggshells around shauna cuz of her mood swings, especially when she was hungry, which was pretty much almost every day 😭 if u wanted to stay out of trouble, the only acceptable responses to any of her requests were either "yes, baby" or nodding silently.

and if you happened to get into an argument, your best bet was to either shut the fuck up or just roll your eyes, unless you wanted her to be passive-aggressive towards you for the entire day.

although even if she got mad at you, her corny ass would always end up snuggling into you at night, holding you tightly before falling asleep. sometimes she’d “angrily” turn her back to you for the first ten minutes, but then she’d grab one of your arms and place it around her waist, wanting you to cuddle her lmaooo

after finding out she was pregnant, you began marking down the weeks with a sharp rock on the walls of the attic to keep track of her pregnancy.

around the sixth month, you began assisting her with skinning the animals and cutting the meat. initially, you didn't enjoy the task, but you didn't want her to become even more tired than she already was. therefore, you asked her to show you how to do it, and once she did, you took over the chore to ease her burden.

you'd also make sure to cut her food portions a little bigger while making yours smaller. of course, you didn't tell her this cuz you knew she'd get mad at you for nearly starving yourself at her expense, even though she needed it the most.

whenever she was stressed or exhausted, she loved it when you’d let her sit between your legs, her back against your chest, while you massaged her scalp as she closed her eyes.

during your free time, you’d spend hours sewing beanies and tiny socks for the baby using fabric from some of your jackets and cotton shirts, as you knew he was likely to be born during the winter.

as her belly gradually started to grow, you began talking to it, hoping the baby would recognize your voice once he was born.

you approached shauna's belly, softly caressing it on the sides with your hands. "shippy, if you can hear me, kick your mom for me," you said with a faux serious expression, only to receive a punch on the shoulder. "ow!" you exclaimed, rubbing your shoulder with a pout on your face.

after giving birth…

you hated to admit it given the circumstances, but you were excited af 😭 as soon as the baby was born, you’d take care of him as if he was your biological son.

even though shauna loved her baby and wanted to spend all day with him, she was actually relieved that you were so obsessed with him too. your preoccupation gave her some much-needed time to herself or simply to rest throughout the day.

you also knew that hungry shauna and restless shauna = everyone’s worst nightmare 😭 so, if necessary, you’d let her sleep if the baby started crying at night, rocking him to sleep on your own.

it became a common occurrence for her to wake up in the morning and see you fast asleep next to her, with the baby tightly cradled in your arms, his tiny head resting against your chest.

you'd often offer to take care of him. in fact, you wouldn't even offer—you'd just literally take the baby from shauna’s arms at random and play with him, rubbing his belly or nuzzling your nose against his face. his response would often be giggling or slapping your face with his little hands.

“ow! stop poking my eye!” you exclaimed, pretending to be stern but unable to hide the smile on your face. the baby just looked at you with wide, innocent eyes, his tiny hand still hovering near your face. “you think that’s funny, huh?” you asked as you tickled his belly, causing him to burst into a fit of giggles. shauna watched from a distance, a soft smile on her face as she watched the two of you bond.

when his teeth started to grow, you carved several animal-shaped figures from unused pieces of wood that were too small to be used for the bonfire. after thoroughly washing them in the lake, you would then give them to the baby for him to chew on.

although he’d usually prefer to chew on your fingers and hands.

⟢ 🍼

"babe, our little shippy seems to have inherited some interesting traits from his mom," you began, a mischievous twinkle in your eye as you watched the baby gnawing on your hand.

shauna glanced at you, curiosity piqued. "oh? which ones?"

you chuckled, gently pulling your hand away from the baby’s mouth. "i made all these cute little wooden animals for him to chew on, but he seems to prefer biting me instead."

shauna laughed, a light blush dusting her cheeks as she saw you pointing at a freshly given hickey she had left on your skin last night while tai was spending time with the baby.

"well, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree, i suppose," she retorted with a grin on her face.

"it didn’t, it actually fell a bit too close if you ask me," you started, "van was playing with him yesterday and out of nowhere he bit her nose so hard it left a mark. i literally had to drag little shippy away from her face because he wouldn’t let go."

shauna chuckled at your story, shaking her head in amusement. she then looked at the baby, her voice filled with affection. "good job, sweetie," she cooed at him while pinching his cheeks, causing you to roll your eyes at her.

you then turned to the baby as well, your voice softening. "but we should probably start teaching you some manners, shouldn’t we? biting people and leaving marks on them isn’t very nice," you said while side-eyeing your girlfriend.

she then looked back at you, a mischievous grin on her face. "although, i can't say i mind leaving a few more marks on you," she teased, giving you a kiss on the neck.

with a blush on your face, you quickly covered your son's eyes with your hand. "shauna, there's a baby in the room," you complained in a playful tone. "ow!" you exclaimed, pulling your hand away from his face as you felt his little growing teeth bite forcefully.

shauna couldn’t help but laugh at your reaction, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “well, he’s just learning from the best,” she said, giving your hand a sympathetic rub where the baby had bitten you.

she leaned in to give you a quick peck on the cheek. “and just so you know,” she added with a playful smirk, “i think he’s already showing signs of being as stubborn as you.”

feigning shock, you retorted, “shauna, you’re setting a bad example for our son,” earning another round of laughter from her. the baby, oblivious to your banter and the clear discomfort on your face from the previous bite, simply continued to stubbornly chew on your hand, his tiny teeth leaving their mark.

note : thank youuuu, it means a lot <33 i hope u like the hcs

#𓏲 📂 ⋮ my works .ᐟ #shauna shipman x reader #shauna shipman x y/n #shauna shipman x you #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x y/n

[howlingday]

It's kind of depressing when you realize out of Team RWBY, Weiss is the only one who get's constant development. Ruby doesn't get any character development until maybe Vol 4, and it was still sporadic at best. Yang and Blake got some good development up until Vol 7 where it feels like if it didn't involve Bumblee, then they didn't get anything (And in some cases you could argue going backwards...). So, this might be my bias talking (Weiss is best girl), but Weiss is the only one on that team to me that got anything in a constant enough rate. Only time I think she didn't develop was in Vol 9, but that was Ruby's time to shine so I'm not really upset with that one.

Yeah, when you think about it, there really wasn't much character development for any of the supposed "main characters" of the series, especially since they're also the titular characters.

Ruby's character development was like a David Cage game of Beyond: Two Souls, showing us Ruby's highs, lows, lows, lows, and LOWS of her character development, all before circling back to a HIGH just in time for her series to get canned. It's a sad sight.

Blake's character was centralized on the White Fang. She was in the White Fang until she left, then she finds out the White Fang are up to something in Vale to the point that it exhausts her, then she helps stop the White Fang in Vale and Mountain Glenn, then Yang was framed, and Blake thinks she's becoming Adam again, then the White Fang attack Beacon and Adam cripples Yang so she runs away to Menagerie to protect Yang and everyone she knows and learns the White Fang are up to something in Menagerie until she breaks everything up in Haven. Things go right for Blake overall until Adam shows back up and she and Yang murder him with no consequences. It is from this point that Blake's character arc with the White Fang ends and her entire character now becomes Yang's girlfriend. I've said it before and I'll say it again; Blake is the worst girl of Team RWBY.

Yang's character trait is that she has no character trait. None that's ever properly established. She's Ruby's sister and/or mother figure, but hardly interacts with her. She likes to party and get into fights, but we don't see her do either. Her mom is a bandit, but we don't know if Raven really loves Yang or not. She lost her arm to Adam, but she didn't really learn anything from that whole experience; again, nothing that we can see. And now Yang's character is Blake's girlfriend. I put Yang higher than Blake only because what story COULD be told isn't just the same story over and over.

So, now that I've gone over some issues of the others, let's talk about Weiss' character arc. Weiss is physically scarred by a trial set by her father in order to get into Beacon, and once she arrives, she's an uptight spoiled brat who expects to be handed the position of Team Leader. After she's humbled by Professor Port, she steps up as Ruby's second-in-command. She's pursued romantically by Jaune, whom she rejects outright multiple times until Neptune shows up, whom she romantically pursues until he starts flirting with other girls in front of her, though Jaune helps Neptune ask her to dance, and from there she and Jaune are on better terms as friends (which can be seen in V3 when he calls Weiss after getting out of the locker Pyrrha shoved him in). During V3, she's approached by her sister and financially cut off by her father. After the Fall of Beacon, she's forced to return home and is basically put in a sort of Brittney Spears house arrest, where she's only allowed out by her father to do whatever he wants her to do (I think that's what happened, I'm not really aware of what exactly happened during the whole "conservative house-arrest" thing from a few years back), until she escapes and is then captured by Raven until she's rescued by Yang. They then go to Haven and reunite with Ruby and Team JNR, and once Blake comes back, Team RWBY is back in full swing!

Okay, I think that's enough to make the point, but I do want to bring up something that is going to piss people off, because of course it will. It's about Weiss' likely endgame ship, White Knight. I said before that RWBY doesn't know how to do romance, but... Looking at the character developments of both Jaune and Weiss and they just somehow start leaning closer and closer, contrary to how they started out. Like, I know I'm not the only one seeing two characters with full-developed characters starting to get closer, so how is it that BMBLB sucks so hard with their story if it's the canon flagship?

Don't believe me? Think about what I was talking about with these characters. Do you know what the biggest difference is between the stories of Weiss and Blake and Yang? The answer is that Weiss actually has a story. Blake and Yang just are just... two halves of one whole. Weiss is completely independent of Jaune, and yet they both managed to grow without each other. I'm no relationship expert, but if you're relying on another person to have a character arc, that's not a healthy relationship- That's codependency.

Oh, but what do I know? I'm just an idiot on the internet who makes incorrect quote posts. My opinion is invalid and should be tossed out and disregarded. Tata~!

#rwby #character analysis #ruby rose #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #jaune arc #white knight #bmblb #i'm sorry #i didn't mean to bash on bmblb again #but come on #i can't talk about blake or yang without bringing up that they're canon #and before you ask #no #i am not anti anything

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry Pie. aka - Cherry, Part Three.

There are certain things in life that can’t be denied. You’re starting to think maybe you and Steve are one of them.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - part three has arrived!! thanks for your patience, angels. thank you for all your continued enthusiasm and support for this series. I love them and I love you <3 as always, please reblog if you enjoyed!! it’s the only way to circulate my fics <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“The prettiest girl in the world just walked in.”

“Your mom?”

“Funny, Harrington. Try again.”

“My Cherry?”

Robin smiles knowingly, nodding her head. Not only did Steve automatically associate you with the phrase prettiest girl in the world, but he called you his. Some days, she wished she could slap him square across the face in hopes of waking him up to what everyone else could see so clearly.

“Hi, you two. Working hard, or hardly working?”

You giggle, and the sound bounces off the metal shelves of the Family Video Store. Steve’s mesmerised, stood unmoving with a beaming grin on his face.

“I’m the first, Steve’s the second.”

The boy kicks his coworker in the shin, laughing when she pinches the bare skin of his arm in retaliation.

“Not true.”

Steve takes you in for a second, stuck still in his place. You’re wearing his favourite sundress, all patterned and pretty in front of him. Your lips are glossy and skin glowy, sneakers on your feet a perfect white. The perfect picture of a summer day.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, breaking him out of his haze. He snaps back to reality and throws an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple sweetly.

“I was nearby anyway, thought I’d come in and see if you were busy. And I had to remind Steve to pick a movie for tonight.”

“We’re not watching a romcom.”

“We’re watching a romcom,” you say at the same time as Steve while Robin laughs.

“I better grab the new stock from the back. See you later,” she says, winking at the boy who still has you pulled tight into his side.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your cherry conditioner and vanilla body wash. If Steve gets to heaven, he’s convinced this is what it’ll smell like.

“I finish here at 6, so I can come and get you, or you can wait for me at my place? Your choice, Cherry Baby.”

“I’ll wait for you. I was thinking I’d make us some dinner anyway, ready for when you get home.”

Home. Steve’s brain short circuits, a vision of a domestic life with a white picket fence flashing across his mind. He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sounds perfect,” he whispers.

You’re a little confused by all this sudden affection, but the last thing you’ll ever do is complain. If he wants to kiss you until you’re dizzy in the middle of this Family Video Store, then so be it.

“I should leave you to get on with stuff.”

“You could stay all day, if you wanted. We could make you wear the uniform and everything - no one would suspect a thing.”

You laugh, nudging his foot with yours.

“As tempting as that is, I have a little more shopping to do. And I have to get ingredients for later.”

You pick up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you look at him.

“See you later, Stevie.”

“See you later, Cherry Pie.”

You’re halfway out the door when he calls your name, head whipping around to face him.

“You’re so pretty. You know that, right?”

You look at your shoes, suddenly bashful at his boldness.

“You too, Stevie. Prettiest boy I know.”

You both go about the rest of your days floating on air, high on the giddy sweetness of it all.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Steve almost passes out when he unlocks his front door.

There’s candles lit and music playing softly, the kitchen alive with movement. Something smells delicious, and he can hear you humming along to a song he thinks he recognises as you chop and stir. He can picture it perfectly before he even enters the room, but the sight still knocks him off balance when he finally gets a good look at you.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You spin from your place at the stove to grin at him, petticoat trimmed apron tied around your waist to protect your dress.

“Darling! I’ve been waiting all day for you!”

You curtsy in mock greeting, which makes Steve laugh much harder than it should. He strides over and gathers you in his arms, squeezing you a little tighter than necessary.

“Steven, I saw you a few hours ago. You’re acting like you’ve just returned from war.”

“Forgive me for missing you,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sink into his embrace anyway, tangling your fingers into the back of his shirt and inhaling the familiar scent of it.

“Something smells really good.”

“It’s my famous cherry pie,” you grin, pulling back to look up at him. “Made it just for you.”

“You’re an angel,” he exclaims, spinning you around on the tiled floors. “An angel sent just for me.”

You try to ignore the way heat rises across your chest, his compliments warming your skin.

“Let me take it out of the oven, and then we’ll eat. You must be starving.”

He laughs, because you know for a fact he’s always hungry. You know everything about him. It should scare him, spook him, make him nervous. Instead he hums with the excitement of it, body alive with the anticipation of it all.

Steve changes out of his work clothes as you plate up dinner. He comes back downstairs to see you sat at the table waiting for him, all patient and pretty. He wonders momentarily what he’s done so right in life to be rewarded so greatly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“So you totally brought me a romcom, right?”

Steve wants to deny it, wants to tell you that actually he stood his ground and stuck to his word. Instead, he says,

“Of course I did.”

And you laugh, all silvery and melodic, because you knew he’d cave. He can’t say no to you, even if he wanted to. You don’t use it to your advantage as often as you should. Steve wishes you did a little more.

“I’ll make popcorn if you get the video set up.”

Snacks made and movie ready, you settle in next to Steve on the couch. The two of you always follow the same routine - you sit separately, a fair distance between you, watching the movie with your hands to yourself. Then, slowly, you migrate towards each other, until you’re pressed together without an inch of space to be found.

The same thing happens tonight.

You end up being spooned by Steve, both of you laying across the couch cushions. Your back is pressed to his front, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you bracketed in to him. He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch the TV, pressing kisses into the skin of your neck absentmindedly every now and again.

The film Steve picked is one you’ve seen before, but you’re not about to tell him that. Instead, your eyes slowly slip closed, the steady rhythm of the boys breathing lulling you into a sleepy haze. He traces patterns over the exposed skin of your stomach with his fingertips, chuckling slightly when you flinch as he brushes a ticklish spot.

Your hips roll back into his as you try to adjust your position, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply, waiting for you to settle back down.

You don’t. You keep wriggling, clearly uncomfortable as you sink further into the couch cushions. Steve tries to help you, strong arm pulling you up and into him. You jut your hips once more, and he can’t help the small groan that leaves his lips.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the flashing lights of the TV illuminating the room. The movie is still playing, but you know it’s almost finished. Steve’s arm is tight around your waist, his breathing heavy against your shoulder. You shift your hips to alleviate the pressure on your tangled legs when Steve sucks in a harsh breath, startling you.

He’s warm behind you. So warm. His chest is moving ragged, panting against your bare skin. His fingers grip your thigh tightly for a second, before letting it go and soothing over it.

Oh. Oh.

You’re wide awake, suddenly. Liquid heat spikes its way up your spine, all prickly and electric. You’re not sure what your next move is, but lust is clouding all five of your senses.

“Steve.”

“Cherry.”

“Steve.”

You try to say his name more firmly, but it just comes out as a whine. The sound shoots straight to Steve’s core, his hips bucking into your ass involuntarily.

“You okay?” he mumbles into your ear, grip on your thigh tightening. His fingertips dig into your skin, and you pray you’ll still be able to feel it tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s a lie. You’re not okay. You’re on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with molten heat. You think you might be shaking with it, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.

His hand smooths up from your thigh to just under your breast, resting gently on your ribs. Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbirds wings, frantic and delicate. He can feel it through his fingertips.

“I love you, Cherry Baby.”

You lose your breath momentarily, reminding yourself how to inhale. He always does this, always catches you off guard by telling you he loves you in the moments you expect it the least. It always means more, in times like these. He could have said anything to you just then, but he chose I love you. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or neither or both.

“I love you too,” you choke out. “So much.”

You grind your hips back into his, grinning when he groans all low and buttery. His hand glides up to cup your chest, squeezing gently as you arch into him.

“What do you want?” he asks slowly. “Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll give you anything. Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say the words.”

You let him ramble for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order. You try as hard as you can, but all you can say is,

“You.”

Steve buries his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss into the space behind your ear gently.

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Want you so badly, Steve. Please.”

The hand that’s on your chest dances down to your stomach, slipping underneath your sleep shorts. He traces his fingers over your underwear, moaning when he feels them completely soaked through.

“Shit.”

“Stevie.”

He strokes you gently, hips rutting into your back when yours jolt into his hand. Eventually, he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat before slipping two inside.

You keen instantly, back arching into him. His lips find home in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, teeth biting down occasionally to try and stifle his desire. You move your hips in tandem with his rhythm, grinding down to try and find the right spot.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Atta girl. Ride my fingers, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

His voice is like melted honey, all golden and warm. It’s making your bones turn to liquid, sinking further into the hold he still has on you with his other arm. Every inch of you is plastered to every inch of him, not a millimetre of space between you. You’ve never been so connected, both physically and emotionally. It’s like the tectonic plates are shifting, the very foundations of your lives changing right in front of your eyes.

Your chest is heaving, panting like you’ve just ran a marathon. All you can focus on is the white heat building in the pit of your stomach, volcanic and bright. When Steve crooks his fingers, you cry out, tumbling over the edge into a blind freefall with no parachute.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.”

“You’re so good f’me. Doin’ so well.”

“Ride it out, pretty girl. Fuck.”

“Make a mess, there we go. Just like that.”

You’re not even registering his words, but you know that he’s praising you. He always is. He thinks you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to teach him what love is.

Steve ruts his hips into your back, groaning as he finishes. He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed. The feeling of you writhing in his hold as you tightened around him was his undoing, whether he wanted it to be or not. He doesn’t mind.

You go boneless, head dropping back into his shoulder. He presses kisses onto your temple, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. You sigh in contentment, and Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and take it like a shot of espresso every morning.

“You okay?”

You nod and then giggle, dopamine rushing through your blood. You’re almost lightheaded with it, floating on cloud nine.

“Steve?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You turn in his hold to finally face him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. You rest your sweaty forehead against his, panting into his mouth.

“Want it to be you.”

He pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face, eyes a little wide with shock.

“You mean…”

“Yeah. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but if you do, I guess I, um… there’s no one I trust more than you.”

“You know you can only lose your virginity once, baby.”

“I know. Which is exactly why it should be you.”

He grins at you, all giddy and love drunk, bumping your nose with his.

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Steve leans in to press his lips to yours, all slow and tender, kissing you as if you have all the time in the world.

Perhaps you do.

“Not tonight, obviously,” you murmur, chuckling under your breath. “Don’t think you could handle that.”

He scoffs, pulling back from you in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just came in your pants and I didn’t even touch you. Who even knows if we’ll make it to actual sex.”

Steve pinches your sides, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. You laugh, trying to squirm out of his hold without luck.

“You’re gonna be eating your words, Cherry Baby.”

You shake your head, blinding smile still etched on your face.

“You know what I am gonna eat? My cherry pie. I’m starving.”

Steve groans at the thought of the dessert sitting on the counter in the kitchen. No one does a cherry pie quite like you.

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it. There’s ice cream in the freezer, too. That vanilla bean one you like.”

You peck his lips before standing up on shaky legs, wincing as you do it.

“You good?”

“I’m gonna need a new shirt. This one’s sticky.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow and he can’t hold in his laughter, the sound of it booming around the quiet room.

“Shut the fuck up,” he jokes as he throws you over his shoulder. Despite your protests, he carries you up the stairs, smacking your ass a few times on the way for good measure.

When he puts you down, he cradles your face gently, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“It’s me and you forever. You know that right?”

You know what he’s trying to say. I love you. You’re it for me. There never has been and never will be anyone else.

But neither of you are quite ready for those words. So instead, you say,

“I know. I’ve always known.”

And that’s enough, for now.

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss

for some reason I didn't tag some people from part one in part two... no idea why. sorry!

#steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x bestfriend!reader #bestfriend!steve harrington #bestfriend!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x bestfriend reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fluff

[antiquarianfics]

A Slip of the Tongue

a/n: how would y’all like an un-proofread one shot i wrote? ‘twas inspired by someone else’s story with a similar concept, but i lost it. :( anyhoo. i made you some content.

warnings: brief mention of death, otherwise none.

masterlist

—

“Me and Nina played on the swings today!” Your daughter, Ellie, tells you as you strap her into her car seat.

“Yeah? That so?” You ask. This is one of your favorite parts of your day; that is, listening to Ellie tell you about her day at school.

“Yeah! Nina is new. Her daddy got a new job and had to move them here. She speaks 2 languages!”

“Wow! That’s really cool, baby. What other language does she speak?”

“I think she said… Um. Something that started with an R.” Ellie scrunches her face up in consideration.

“Russian?” You ask, finishing buckling her in. You close the door and move around the car, getting in yourself.

“Yeah, I think,” Ellie replies.

“Did you know Bucky speaks Russian?” You ask her, sharing the tidbit about your boyfriend with your daughter.

Ellie loves Bucky, and he her. When Ellie’s father passed away, you truly never thought you would move on, and it killed you Ellie would grow up without a father. Then, you met Bucky, and he was wonderful. It was a complete meet-cute. You ran into him—literally—in a coffee shop 5 minutes away from Ellie’s school. You were in a rush, trying to get your coffee, your belongings, and your bearings to go pick up Ellie, and in your frantic fumbling, you crashed into a stranger who, rather than getting upset by being hit and drenched in a late, simply steadied you by the arms and asked if you were alright.

Bucky insisted on buying you a new coffee because “It’s my fault for being on your way, Doll. Besides, my ma’d kill me if she knew I passed up an opportunity to ask a pretty woman on a date.”

The admission took you by surprise, and Bucky later revealed it took him by surprise, too. Something about you, he said, brought out his old 40s confidence. He didn’t worry about scaring you like he would anyone else. In fact, he said, in that moment, he wasn’t the Winter Soldier, and he never was. He was just Bucky.

That day, though, you’d declined, telling him you had to pick your daughter up from school, but you quickly amended your statement to let him know you were at that very coffee shop everyday for an hour before you picked up Ellie. “So,” you had said, “if my being a single mom doesn’t scare you, you can buy me that make-up latte another time.” And, by god, Bucky Barnes was at that coffee shop then next day, waiting with your latte.

Fast forward to today, and Bucky practically lives with you and Ellie. He still has his apartment, but he spends 6 out of 7 days at your house. It’s so natural, though, you wish he’d just ditch the apartment and make it official. After all, he is an excellent roommate. He does the dishes, cleans up after himself, doesn’t hog the blankets, and—most importantly—he is fantastic with Ellie. He plays with her, he reads her bedtime stories, he cuts her food for her, and so much more. He is everything to you and Ellie.

So, when you tell Ellie that Bucky also speaks more than one language, you can’t help but grin when she rambles the rest of the car ride home about how she is going to ask him about that language he speaks—what language does Bucky speak again, Mama?—and then she is going to learn it too so she can show Nina.

Ellie’s rambling lasts all the way home, into the house, and into the living room where she drops her backpack on the ground and runs to Bucky, jumping in his lap with no warning. Bucky grunts at the impact, but he smiles fondly at the young girl.

“Hey, El,” he greets. “How was school?”

“Bucky, I made a new friend! She’s so cool. Did you know she speaks 2 languages! That’s really cool. I can only speak 1 language. Her daddy got a new job, so they came here. She’s my new best friend. I don’t remember what language she speaks, though.”

Ellie speaks a million miles a minute as she tries to fill Bucky in on her day. Bucky makes eye contact with you over her head and you merely smile and shrug, making Bucky grin.

“Russian,” you offer, as you move to sink down onto the couch next to your boyfriend and your daughter.

“Russian!” Ellie exclaims, nodding her head excitedly. “Mama said you speak Russian, Bucky. Do you speak Russian?”

“I do,” Bucky confirms, laughing at the amazed look that crosses Ellie’s face.

“Say something! Say something!” She begs.

“Yeah, Bucky, say something in Russian!” You join in on Ellie’s begging with a laugh.

“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки,” Bucky says, chuckling to himself as he watches Ellie’s amazed face.

“Wow,” she says, eyes transfixed on Bucky.

You laugh. “Yeah, wow,” you confirm, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to Bucky’s cheek before standing to go to the kitchen.

You make it just across the room when you stop dead in your tracks, turning to make eye contact with Bucky and attempt to gauge his reaction to Ellie’s words.

“I can’t wait to tell Nina tomorrow that my daddy speaks Russian, too,” Ellie says, lying her head on Bucky’s chest.

You and Bucky make eye contact across the room, and you hold a silent conversation.

Bucky’s eyes are widened in shock, but he raises an eyebrow at you as if to ask, “Did she just call me her daddy?”

You shrug, mouth slightly agape. Ellie has never called Bucky her daddy before, but it doesn’t surprise you. Bucky is always around, and he acts like a father figure regardless of your relationship with him. So, you say nothing, just shrug your shoulders and hope Bucky gets the message:

“I don’t know, but I’ll tell her not to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Bucky shakes his head to let you know he doesn’t mind. Really likes it even.

Finally he speaks, “Yeah, tell her your daddy speaks Russian. I’ll even teach you some if you want.”

Ellie shoots up in Bucky’s lap, grabbing his face between her hands, and seriously begging him to follow through with his promise immediately.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” She exclaims. “What did you say a minute ago?” She asks, assigning her first Russian lesson.

“Вы двое знали, что я люблю вас? Мои красивые, глупые девочки. It means, “Did you two know I love you? My beautiful, silly girls.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky x you #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x you #bucky x fem!reader

[luveline]

as a kid i was so scared of my parents splitting up, what if roan learns someone in her class’ parents are divorcing and it sends her spiralling thinking she’d never see reader again?

thank you jade 💛

thank you for requesting lovely ♡ eddie and roan (almost) stepmom!reader, 2k

"Yeah, I got the expensive kind," you're saying, phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder, a knife held loosely in your hand. "I don't wanna make it wrong." 

Roan can vaguely hear the rumble of her Uncle's voice on the other side giving reassurances. 

You scrape the blade of the knife against the cutting board. "I know. I know, Wayne, I swear, just… I hardly ever make him dinner and this is our last anniversary before we get married, and– I know. Sorry, that's– I know, you don't mind, it's just–" 

Roan attaches herself to your hip like an octopus, looking up at you as you look down. You smile at her, putting your knife flat to stroke her hair. 

"She's right here," you say, "she's helping me… okay. Thanks, Wayne, you're the best. See you tomorrow. Alright, I will. Bye." 

You put your hand behind Roan's shoulder and walk her with you to the phone. As soon as you've hung it back on the hook, you scoop her up to hold against your chest, even if she's getting longer and longer every day. "Hey, babe. Uncle Wayne says he loves you and he missed you today. He wants to make you dinner tomorrow, so we'll find your nice blue dress tonight and put it in the wash." 

Roan flops her face against your neck. "I love him too." 

"He knows." You press your cheek to hers briefly. "Okay, you wanna sit on the top with me and I'll finish making today's dinner?" 

Roan's happy to sit on the counter and swing her legs as you finish making the pot pie. It's one of Eddie's favourites because his mom used to make it a couple of times a month, and so it's one of Roan's favourites, her lips quirked with excitement as you chop onions, carrots and celery into small pieces for the frying pan. 

"I love the carrots," she says. 

"Yeah?" You uncap the cooking oil to pour a generous splash into the pan. "Want me to put extra in? I don't mind." 

Roan nods enthusiastically. "Yes!" 

She's happy watching you cook at first, but she gets quieter as you finish up. By the time the pie is in the oven she's picking at her little nails, shards of polish in her lap like powdered sugar. 

"You okay?" you ask, wiping your hands clean. She shrugs. You shrug back. "What's that mean?" 

"I'm thinking." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." Roan pokes her toes into your thigh. 

"Well, daddy's home soon, but you know you can tell me." 

"Mm," she hums, holding out her hand. You don't take it, folding her into your arms for a hug instead. 

It would usually make her feel better, but Roan feels ten times worse as you soften your tone to a less cheerful murmur, "Got another tummy ache?" 

"Not that." 

"What is it?" you ask. 

She hides her face in your shoulder, pert nose to your soft shirt. 

"You don't have to tell me," you whisper. "Sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you, I promise, I just love you." You turn saccharine again, patting her back as you dote excitedly into the top of her head. "Love you love you love you!" You punctuate with a kiss, and Roan starts crying. 

—

Eddie's startled but not too worried to get home to the sound of Roan crying. She certainly cries less and less now that she's getting older, but children cry so often that he doesn't think it's worth panicking over. 

He can hear you already on the case as he peels out of his sweaty coat and boots. "That's not going to happen," you comfort, voice bouncing off of kitchen tile, the hum of the oven like a baseboard. "It's hard to believe me, but it won't. Me and daddy are super happy." 

His eyebrows rise of their own accord. "Hello?" he asks, moving down the hallway and into your bright kitchen. 

Roan sits in the shadow of a corner cabinet, hunched over her knees with her face held up by defeated hands, tears wetting her rosy cheeks. You stand in front of her with your hand on shoulder, bent to her eye-level, glancing sideways at him momentarily before you say, "Look, dad's home. He's gonna say the exact same thing as me, I swear. Should we ask him?" 

Eddie takes the mantle by your side, quick to rub the tears from Roan's cheek with his pinky. His hands aren't clean enough for anything more. "What's wrong?" he asks. 

"Nothing," Roan says, her voice strangled by a big sob. 

"Babe!" Eddie laughs, half-hearted. "I can see something's super wrong. I might be a dumb boy, but I know when my girl's upset, don't I?" 

"You're not a dumb boy," Roan says. 

"Oh. Thank you, Ro." 

"You're a dumb man." 

"Very funny." He combs unruly coils of dark hair behind her ear, finger following down the curve to her shoulder. "Quick, tell me what's wrong. Just tell me. Rip it off like a bandaid." 

"It's silly," Roan murmurs. 

"Says who?" 

"Says me." 

"Oh," Eddie says, giving you a look to make sure it's alright before he monopolises her attention. You raise your hands with a small smile, as if to say, Please. "Come here, me. I'm gonna have to squeeze this out of you, huh?"

He leans back, shifting her weight against his hip, arm stretched over the breadth of her back. He's not smug, but it does bring a satisfaction to see how swiftly she calms down once he's holding her. It's a familiar picture, Eddie with his lips to her forehead, a crease between his brow just like Uncle Wayne's as he rubs her back, and Roan, a mirror image of her father, palpable relief in her hands as they tangle in his hair. Less familiar but getting there is you at their side, your cheek on Eddie's shoulder and your hand on his elbow.

"What's it gonna take to let me in on the secret?" he asks. He's making a spoiled child accidentally, always bribing and bartering for good behaviour. 

"Nothing…" Her mumbling tickles his cheek as she shifts around. "I'm worry‐ing," —her voice skips over the word, like a hiccup— "about something because of Stacy." 

"Oh yeah? What did Stacy do?" 

"She said her mom, um, her mom said she's getting a divorce. That Stacy won't see her dad again, and it'll just be her and her mom." 

Eddie doesn't judge people much. He can't imagine caring about other people's divorces when Roan was born from a fling and pretty much left on his doorstep —circumstances don't determine your kid's happiness alone. He does worry for Stacy, and his poor empathetic little girl. 

"That's terrible, bubby," Eddie placates, patting her back. 

"It's– well, it's– I'm…" Roan huffs. 

"Whatever you tell me is fine, promise. No grounding, no telling off."

"I know, daddy, it's just hard to say." 

Eddie feels himself physically melt. 

He leans back against the kitchen counter and shifts her against his stomach. His arms burn with the effort of keeping her secured to him, and he's not loving her sad tone —the quicker he finds out what's wrong, the better. He peeks over her head at you for hints. 

You're uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other like your feet hurt. 

"What?" he asks you. 

You clear your throat. "I think she's worried about me. If something happened between us, she's worried she won't see me again." 

Eddie would like to think after two years of loving his daughter, watching her grow, and all together being a cherished and irreplaceable part of her life and her support system, that you'd find it impossible to leave her. Even if you left Eddie, you wouldn't leave Ro. He knows that. But only two years… he knows you'd love Roan even if he screws things up, but he can't promise her that things would be the same, because they wouldn't be. 

That's not what she's asking, though.

"What, you think you won't see Y/N anymore?' Eddie murmurs, rubbing her back. 

"She's not my full mom," Roan whispers. 

Eddie reaches past Roan to squeeze your elbow. "You know, that doesn't matter, honey. And after the wedding–" 

"You call me mom for a reason, right?" you cut him off. 

Roan lifts her head from Eddie's. "Yeah." 

"Okay, so, say me and dad get married, and then by some impossibility we realise we can't stay married, will you love me less?" 

"No," Roan says with a pout. 

"I wouldn't love you any less, either. I didn't know I could love someone this much 'til I met you," you say, voice scratchy like you're talking past gravel. "So things would change, but not how much I love you. I'd still see you." 

You sound tentative. Eddie's way less hesitant. "Of course you'd still see each other. Babe, if me and mom break up it'll be because I did something stupid, so you'd see her every time I tried to apologise." He grins at you. "How long do you think it would take you to forgive me?" 

"Depends on what you did." You smile fondly. "Probably not long, Munson." 

"I have a weird feeling we're gonna last." 

Roan sniffles. "I just don't want mom to move away," she says. 

You and Eddie have already spoken about this. Serious but not sombre, on your backs in bed. You're not just marrying me, Eddie'd said, terrified of how much he wanted you to say certain things, and how you might not say them at all. This isn't just a promise to me. I know how much I'm asking from you, it's not a small thing. I won't blame you if you can't say yes, but this is… she's my world. 

I already said yes. And I knew what I was saying yes to, you'd replied, holding your hand up above you, the two of you staring in wonder at the ring on your marriage finger. I promise, Eds. I won't let either of you down. 

"Where do you think I'm going, princess? Me and dad are so happy. I'm staying right here stuck to his hip for the rest of time, but only if you're gonna stick to mine." You duck your head to touch your noses together briefly. "I'm not going anywhere." 

"Promise?" 

"Promise you." He swears you're twisting your engagement ring, but he can't quite see. "Can I have her?" you ask. 

"Sure. My noodle arms are about to snap anyway." 

"Noodle arms," you repeat, stealing Ro from him smoothly. "Yeah, right." 

He flexes appreciatively at your comment. 

Roan snuggles up to your neck, little face in the curve of it, her arms curling around you. You hold her tight and bend back under her weight, an arm against her thighs and another behind the small of her back, hand twisted up to brush her curls. 

"Love you," you say softly. You're smiling like you've got everything you ever wanted. "Maybe if me and daddy break up I can just take you with me." 

"Yeah!" Roan says with a gasp. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Whatever, girls. Neither of you can cook, you know that? Maybe tonight you guys can practise your new life together by not eating the dinner I'm gonna cook." Time to lighten the mood, lest Roan spend a special night lethargic. 

You beam at him. "I already made dinner. Happy anniversary, handsome." 

You exchanged gifts and kisses already that morning before work, but Eddie's happy to accept another quick kiss over Ro's shoulder. He dots one on his daughter's cheek to keep things fair. 

"Lucky us, huh?" he says to Ro. 

He's not strictly talking about dinner, and it's cheesy, but you light up like a Christmas tree. "Lucky me." 

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[steddiealltheway]

I just BARELY made the deadline in my time zone, but I did it! This is for Lex's Summer Challenge, Dialogue prompt #25 :) Thank you @thefreakandthehair for organizing this!! <3

It's New Year's Eve, and Steve is not excited. 

The kids have all mostly agreed to stay together, setting off fireworks at the Wheeler's house. Robin has a band thing, meaning she will try to cozy up with Vickie but chicken out before the New Year's kiss. And Steve... he plans on checking in on Max who hasn't confirmed if she is going to Mike's. 

Things have been rough for her since Billy passed only a few months ago. She hates the trailer she had to move to, and as far as Steve can tell, her mom isn't around much. And if she is, she isn't sober. 

The worst thing is that Max doesn't open up to anyone, but there isn't much Steve can do about that. What he can do is drive to her place and bring her dinner. 

He goes about making her way too much spaghetti and makes the drive over. The sun is starting to go down, but he just hopes he can make it home in time to put on headphones and pass out before people start celebrating the new year.  

He just doesn't want to make it anyone else's problem that he no longer likes the look or sound of fireworks – flashes triggering migraines and memories of Russian torture – so he's put a plan in place. Luckily, everyone should be too busy with New Year's celebrations to pay him any attention. 

He pulls up to Max's trailer and parks outside, walking up to the door and knocking quickly. He waits a few seconds, listening for the sound of footsteps coming to the door, but they don't come. He pulls his jacket a little tighter around himself, shifts the tub of spaghetti from his left side to the right, and knocks again.  

After waiting a few minutes, Steve turns and notices the sun is now on the horizon. 

He glances around the trailer park, cursing himself for not bringing his walkie. His eyes land on a van at the trailer across the way that looks somewhat familiar. He notes that there are no negative thoughts that accompany looking at it, but rather, he feels a bit indifferent to it. 

He starts walking that way, hoping he knows the owner, and further hoping that they're nice enough to let him use their phone. He walks up the steps and knocks before stepping down. 

Luckily, this time he hears the sound of footsteps from inside and a bit of muffled cursing before the door swings open. 

Oh. That's how he knows the van. 

Eddie Munson looks down at him, totally bewildered, and shifts uncomfortably, eyes flickering toward the spaghetti while asking, "What are you doing here?" Before he can answer, Munson gets a look of realization and answers himself, "Right, my great supply." 

"No," Steve says quickly. "I just need to use your phone." 

Munson quickly stiffens again. "Why?" 

Steve sighs and shifts the tub again which has started to feel heavier with every passing moment. "My friend lives over there," he says, throwing his thumb over his shoulder, "And I need to check if she's okay." 

"No way," Munson says, hands coming up before he crosses his arms, "No way I'm letting you use my phone to call some hookup." 

"It's not a hookup. She's in middle school." 

"What?" Eddie asks, looking even more horrified. 

"Not like that!" Steve says and runs his free hand through his hair. "She's friends with a group of kids that I babysit." 

"And why do you want to call her?" 

Christ. "Because I'm worried about her, okay? She's not someone who asks for help, and she's not answering the door. I just need to know if she's safe at her friend's house." 

Eddie stares at him for a few more seconds then asks, "What’s the spaghetti for?" 

"Her." 

He's fixed with the same suspicious stare until Eddie finally nods his head and opens the door for Steve to come inside. Eddie gestures to where the phone is and leans back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms and watching his every move. 

Steve tries to shrug it off as he dials the Wheelers and waits for one of them to answer. 

"Hello?" 

Steve smiles and politely replies, "Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, it's Steve." 

"Oh, Nancy is currently-" 

"No, no," Steve cuts her off, seeing the way that Eddie is starting to tense up. "I wasn't calling about Nancy. I was just wondering if Max was there with the other kids. I stopped by to check on her, but she didn't answer the door." 

Steve can feel his heart thud in his chest as he waits for the reply. "That's very kind of you. But she's with the boys right now. Did you want me to pass a message to her?" 

"No," Steve says in relief. "No, I just wanted to make sure she was okay. Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. Happy New Year." 

"Happy New Year, Steve," she replies and hangs up. 

Steve puts the phone back and turns to Eddie. "Thanks, man. I owe you one." 

Eddie tilts his head to the side and narrows his eyes. "Why do you care about her so much?" 

Steve sighs and gestures toward the counter with the container of spaghetti in hand. "Can I?" Eddie nods in response, so Steve sets it down. He runs a hand through his hair and asks, "Do you remember Billy Hargrove?" 

Eddie scoffs, "Like I could forget the asshole." 

Steve nods. "Well, Max was his step-sister." 

"Oh," Eddie says, shifting uncomfortably. 

Steve shrugs. "They didn't have the greatest relationship, but she's been really closed off since...” he trails off uncomfortably, trying not to remember the moment he died. 

Eddie nods his head. “Right.” 

Steve nods back and gestures toward the spaghetti, changing the subject. “You can have that by the way as a thank you for letting me use your phone. I really appreciate it. And hey, Happy New Year.” 

Eddie’s jaw drops slightly as if he wants to say something but none of the words come out. So, Steve walks to the front door and opens it. He doesn’t even move a step down the stairs before a big firework lights up the sky as the loud noise rings out. 

Steve freezes. He feels his breathing getting shaky and shallow as he remembers the fireworks exploding on that spider looking thing’s back. 

He closes his eyes tight, trying to fend off the images, but the darkness only reminds him of the black that slowly devoured his vision when the Russians knocked him out.  

“Hey, hey,” a soft voice says, “I’ve got you.” 

Steve notices the way he’s somehow on the ground with his back pressed against something warm and that same heat wraps around his torso. He blinks back into reality a bit as warm hands run up and down his arms slowly. “You okay?” 

Steve sinks back into Eddie’s arms and closes his eyes. "Fireworks aren't exactly... my favorite thing." 

Eddie breathes out sharply through his nose. “Yeah, I kind of picked up on that.” 

Steve just nods, allowing himself to be comforted for a few seconds before he tenses up and begins to stand up. “Sorry,” he apologies as he makes his way back to the front door. “Don’t know what got into me.” 

He puts his hand on the door handle, moving his body to block Eddie’s view from his shaking hand. 

“Hey,” Eddie says close behind him, “Just stay until the fireworks stop. I don’t want you driving into my trailer on the way out or something.” 

Steve turns and asks, “Are you sure?” 

Eddie nods and gestures to the container. “Plus, there’s no way I can eat this whole thing on my own.” 

Steve is about to say that he’ll be fine when another firework goes off outside, startling him again. “Okay,” he agrees, wondering how the hell this is going to end up. Steve “The Hair” Harrington and Eddie “The Freak” Munson spending New Years together. 

Eddie hands Steve the container and grabs two bowls and forks before walking off. Steve follows behind him to what he assumes to be Eddie’s room, slightly confused about the change in scenery. 

“Sorry it’s a mess. I wasn’t expecting visitors,” Eddie says awkwardly shoving things around. 

Steve just smiles as he looks at the room. “I like it. It feels comfortable,” he confesses. And it does. With the way his parents force him to keep a spotless room that never feels lived in, it’s nice to be in a bedroom that really reflects someone. 

Eddie considers him for a moment and just nods as he takes the container and sets it on his dresser alongside the bowls before pointing at his stack of tapes. “I’m going to guess our music taste isn’t really similar, but feel free to dig through for something you might like that’ll drown out the fireworks.” 

Steve’s heart skips a beat at the thoughtfulness before he makes his way to the tapes, digging through several unfamiliar names that he kind of wants to ask about, but instead he can’t help but ask, “So, what are you doing alone on New Years?”  

Eddie scoops himself a generous amount of pasta as he answers, “Gareth is at a school thing, Jeff is with his family in New York, and Grant’s parents kind of don’t like me.” 

“Why’s that?” 

Eddie fixes Steve with a look. “I’m not exactly ‘meet the parents’ material, and it doesn’t help that I used to hold band practice in his garage and would play louder whenever they told us to quiet down.” 

Steve smiles. “I would love for you to do that to my parents. God, they would be so pissed.” He grabs another tape and instantly smiles and holds it up to Eddie. “I love Queen.” He immediately puts it into the cassette player and turns the volume up enough to block out additional noise while still being able to hear Eddie talk. 

He turns and finds Eddie handing him a bowl and fork with a soft smile on his face, “You know, you’re not what I thought you’d be.” 

“Yeah?” Steve asks. 

Eddie nods and sits cross legged on his mattress. “Honestly, I thought you’d be an asshole. You know. King Steve and all that shit.” 

Steve runs a hand through his hair as he sits next to him. “I don’t think I’m ever going to live that down.” 

“You will if you get out of Hawkins,” Eddie says, shoveling a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. 

Steve twirls his pasta and stares at it. “I don’t know if I’ll ever leave here,” he confesses. 

“Why not?” 

“I’m not smart enough to make a living somewhere else. Plus, if I move, my parents likely won’t support me – my dad likes keeping me under his thumb. And the kids need me to drive them around.” And they need him in case Hawkins gets another dose of Hell, but he can’t tell Eddie that. “Plus, I don’t think there’s anywhere that would accept me, a former jock and asshole whose only friends are children and Robin. And they’re all so smart that they’ll eventually realize they’re dumb for keeping me around.” He stabs at his spaghetti before putting the bowl down and resting his head in his hands. “I don’t know, man.” 

There’s a pause, and Steve hears a dull thud from a firework outside the trailer even over the music that startles him a bit. It’s so damn annoying that something small like this can reduce him to this. 

“Run away with me.” 

Steve head slowly comes up. “What?” 

Eddie wipes his mouth and sets his bowl on his side table. “Run away with me,” he repeats. “After I graduate, I’m going to run like hell out of here. Come with me to find a place that accepts a former jock and a...” he trails off and looks away nervously. “Uh, a freak,” he awkwardly fills in. 

The bowl in Steve’s hand suddenly feels like it’s in the way, so he sets it on the floor before turning to Eddie and leaning closer to him, hands itching to reach out. “Come on, you can tell me what you were really going to say.” 

Eddie searches his eyes before laying back on his bed dramatically, trailing his hands over his face. “You know what I was going to say. You’ve heard the rumors. Everyone has.” 

Steve has heard several rumors about Eddie, including one about how he worships the devil and does satanic rituals on top of his trailer in the middle of the night. But he has a feeling he knows which rumor he’s talking about. “Yeah, but rumors are rumors for a reason. You never know which ones are true.” 

Eddie sighs and looks up at Steve. He looks like he’s on the verge of telling him before he asks, “So, why aren’t you with your friends tonight? The kids or Robin.” 

He looks down at Eddie for a few moments, wondering if he’ll drop the question, but he holds his ground. Steve shrugs. “Robin is at the thing with all the band kids, chickening out with her crush, and the kids don’t want their babysitter around. Plus, they want to launch fireworks or play Dungeons and Dragons or something.” 

Eddie perks up and sits up on his elbows. “Dungeons and Dragons? The kids you babysit play that?” 

“Yeah. And don’t make fun of them for it. They talk about it all the time, and I think it sounds cool,” Steve says, always quick to defend Dustin even if he’s into weird nerdy shit. 

Eddie sits up entirely and looks at Steve excitedly. “You think Dungeons and Dragons is cool?” he asks in disbelief. 

Steve shrugs in response. “It’s not really my thing, but yeah.” 

“Dude, I’m the leader of Hellfire. You know, the Dungeons and Dragons club at school? What are the kids' names?” 

“Dustin, Lucas, and Mike.” 

Eddie bounces up and down excitedly. “Holy shit, I thought Dustin was kidding when he said he was friends with you.” 

It suddenly clicks, Dustin had mentioned Eddie’s name before, but Steve had never really thought about it as Eddie Munson of all people. “Shit, Dustin talks about you all the time, I just never connected the dots.” 

“He doesn’t shut up about you. The kid adores you. He’d kill me if I took you away from here.” 

“And he’d kill you if you ever left.” 

Eddie smiles and nudges Steve. “Looks like we’re both stuck here.” 

Steve smiles back at him, eyes tracing over Eddie’s face. He’s not sure why he’s never really noticed him before. He guesses he’s always been so stuck in his own shit that Eddie just kind of passed him by somehow. But he’s finally noticing his dimples, and the way his eyes are so deeply brown and easy to get lost in, and his lips looks so full and- 

Eddie lightly shoves him back, a pink blush appearing on his cheeks, “Eat your spaghetti before it gets cold.” 

Steve grabs his bowl and does as he’s told, watching as Eddie gets up to turn up the music a little louder. When he sits back on the bed, the two eat in comfortable silence, letting the music fill the space. Steve’s not sure if he’s ever been able to warm up to someone so quickly, but it makes sense that he’d be able to bond with someone who loves Dustin. 

The song ends and goes into the next. Steve finishes his last bite of spaghetti and laughs as “Somebody to Love” starts playing. He puts his bowl down and lays back on the bed, letting the song wash over him. He sings the lyrics under his breath until he hears Eddie doing the same thing and turns to look up at him. They lock eyes just in time to sing, “Can anybody find me somebody to love?” 

Eddie laughs and lays next to him joining him through the rest of the song. Steve feels ridiculous, but Eddie makes a show of playing air guitar, yelling, “I know how to play this!” Steve just laughs and watches him, feeling his heart beat a little faster in a way it hasn’t for somebody else in a while. 

He sings the rest of the song, mainly focusing on Eddie and the way he so easily gives into the music, unafraid of what Steve might think. As it comes to an end, Steve feels something shift inside him, but Eddie is quick to laugh, “Steve Harrington how can you be struggling to find somebody to love?” 

Steve smiles sadly. “I think I’ve been looking in the wrong place all along, but I’ve been starting to think that maybe I’m unlovable.” 

Eddie scoffs and moves closer to him. “If you think you’re unlovable then there’s no hope for the rest of us.” 

Steve has to move closer to hear him over the music and talk without shouting. “Does that include you?” 

“What do you think?” Eddie asks, tilting his head with a curious smile. 

“I think,” Steve starts, unsure of how he’s going to finish the sentence, “If there’s no hope for you either, then maybe...” 

“Maybe?” Eddie prompts. 

Steve’s eyes glance down at Eddie’s lips. “Maybe...” He looks up at Eddie’s eyes, seeing the confusion, slight fear, and hope. “Maybe you should finish what you were going to say earlier.” 

“Steve...” Eddie says, “You can’t be asking me...” 

“Then, I’ll ask you. Is it midnight yet?” 

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Not even close.” 

“What if I lie and say that it is so I can ask you for a New Years kiss?” Steve asks boldly. 

Eddie’s breath hitches. “Then, I’d say yes and start counting down from ten.” 

“Nine,” Steve says immediately. 

“Eight,” Eddie replies, shifting onto his knees. 

“Seven.” Steve scoots closer, leaning in to brush their noses together. 

“Six,” Eddie exhales. 

“Five.” Steve’s hands come up to hold onto the back of Eddie’s head. 

“Four.” Eddie’s hands press into Steve’s back to bring him closer. 

“Three.” Steve tilts his head, already brushing his lips against Eddie’s, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Two,” Eddie whispers, hands gripping on tighter, left hand tracing up between his shoulders to slot their torsos together. 

“One,” Steve says, barely finishing the word as he presses his lips against Eddie’s, finally ending the longest countdown of his life. 

He deepens the kiss immediately, tasting spaghetti and a hint of something that is purely Eddie which he finds entirely intoxicating. 

The music fades from one song into the next, and Steve’s pretty sure a firework goes off in the silence, but he’s too distracted by Eddie to really respond to it. He feels Eddie’s arms tighten around him, slowly guiding him down to lay back on the bed. 

Eddie breaks the kiss to look down at Steve. “This okay?” he asks. 

Steve nods and says, “Happy New Year.” 

Eddie smiles and shakes his head in disbelief. “Happy fucking New Year.” 

He finally understands why people cheesily talk about fireworks going off during a kiss. And maybe even with everything, fireworks aren’t too bad if this is what he can associate them with. 

#steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #lexssummerfanworkschallenge

[emmyrosee]

“I need you to know how unbelievably pissed I am at you.”

You interrupt the peaceful folding and stocking of your clothes at your in-laws house with your threat. Immediately, Shoyo tenses up and whips his head to look at you, eyes wide and dancing over your face, waiting for you to continue your rant and fury.

When you don’t, merely continuing to glare at him, he gives a frantic, “what did I do!”

“Lower. Your damn. Voice,” you grit, and his hands clap over his mouth childishly. You take a deep inhale to calm down, “you told, your sweet and old parents…”

He looks at you expectantly again. You flare your nostrils and hike up your voice in an obnoxious nasal:

“We’re huuuuungry!”

Instantly, at your mocking tone, he breaks down into laughter, trying to stifle them to keep your anger at bay.

“So embarrassing!” You snip.

“Baby, we were! They don’t mind, you know that-“

“THEY STARTED COOKING! FOR US!”

“You know they’d rather eat with us than have us go out to eat!”

“Shoyo,” you snarl, rising to your feet and approaching him; with nervous laughter, he shrinks back. “It is eigHT IN THE EVENING, AND YOUR MOTHER IS MAKING NIKUJAGA!” You grab a pillow and start whacking him with it, ignoring his pleas and sheltering arms. “For the love of the gods, she should be relaxing!”

“She’s fine!”

You stop swinging and look down at him in shock. He makes a grab for the pillow and you whip it away, and he whines around some giggles.

“You do not make that decision for her,” you growl, throwing the pillow to the side and shoving him on his back before quickly crawling on top of him. “I would rather us both starve and rot away, before I tell your sweet, old parents that we’re hungry. ESPECIALLY at 20:14.”

“Baby, it’s fine,” he giggles, his hands settling on your hips. “They’re totally fine; you know my mom lives to make you happy!” You cross your arms over your chest, and he snickers as he raises up on his elbows, “just a quick bite to eat, a few laughs, then we can all go to bed, right?”

You exhale through your nose, and he tucks his lips in nervously.

“You know what?” You begin, relaxing your shoulders.

“What?”

“You’re right. You’re right! They’re just cooking. It’s fine.”

“Exactly! They’re fine.”

With that, you swing your legs off of your husband and scurry to the closet, and before he can ask, you grab a random stack of blankets to throw at his head. He screams at the sudden impact.

“Since they can whip up dinner, you can whip me up a bed on the couch. Since APPARENTLY you are just so okay with spontaneous forces of labor.”

He cackles some more as you mimic his “we’re hungry!” at random volumes, putting your clothes away in the drawers until his sweet old mother calls you both to the kitchen to eat, not too dissimilar from how she did when you were younger.

“I’m going to bury you alive,” you snarl at him, leaning into the arm tossed around your shoulders as you make your way down the hall to eat. “Watch your damn back. I’ll put cyanide in your food tomorrow, try me bitch.”

He merely snickers as you threaten him with the most bizarre forms of torture you can conjure, all while the smell of a hot supper fills the air around the house.

based on this video bc I love Lori and Noah 🥺🩷

#he would and y’all know it #hinata shoyo #hinata shoyo fluff #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata shoyo x gn!reader #hinata shoyo x reader fluff #hinata shoyo imagine #hinata shoyo haikyuu #hinata #hinata fluff #hinata x reader #hinata x reader fluff #hinata x gn!reader #hinata imagine #hinata haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x yn

[mintmatcha]

tw: implied abuse, no curses au

"Can I ask a question?" Yuuji digs his heel into the wood chips as he swings, digging a growing trench behind him. "You don't have to answer."

Ash falls from the end of Choso's cigarette. He leans against the anchor of the swing set, cheek against cold metal, and sighs. Twilight has passed and the streetlights have turned on, giving the playground a hazy, barely lit glow. Yuuji's guardian will start calling soon, but Choso decides the extra time together is worth the future ire.

"I already told you that I'm not giving you a tattoo."

"Aw, damn-" Yuuji clicks his tongue against his teeth. Ever since they met, he's been dying for a tattoo of his own, throwing out wild new ideas almost every day. One day, when he's eighteen and likes an idea for more than a month, Choso will bring him to his studio and comply.

But, not yet.

"That wasn't my question though," Yuuji says.

"Then go for it."

The younger boy takes a deep breath, then lets it out even slower, pulling the tension longer and longer until it snaps.

"Why weren't you... around? Like, when I was a kid and stuff."

Choso takes his own breath.

"Your mom-- our mom." The taste of that sits bitter on his tongue. He never called her mom, even back then. "She was different for me."

And for our other brothers, he adds silently. Yuuji doesn't need to carry that weight yet, the knowledge that he was the exception to it all.

"Why?" Yuuji pumps his legs a little softer, the back and forth motion of the swing slowly dying out.

"I dunno." Choso wishes he had the answer to that. "She was sixteen, did bad things. Don't worry about it."

Finding out about Yuuji wasn't a shock, somehow. Years after Ken had surrendered her children to the state, Choso had received noticed that she had died. The news felt overdue. No tears were shed, no love lost; the group chat of siblings had all agreed not to go to any service, but the day of, Choso had changed his mind.

He had put on his nicest outfit -some thrift store pants that didn't fit and a shirt he stole from foster dad three- and went expecting to be the only one there, the only one willing to say goodbye.

Choso hadn't known about her new family. They hadn't known about him either. It was typical of Ken to leave a mess in her wake.

Turns out, through a series of lucky breaks, the woman had clawed her way out of poverty and into the arms of a rich, but nice man. Her life was easy and sweet, filled with luxuries and love, including a son ten years younger than her eldest.

No one knows why Yuuji was different than the others, why she decided to be good to him and no one else. Mental illness is strange like that, picking and choosing how it pleases.

Yuuji huffs, gripping the metal chains tighter. "But-"

"Yuuji." Choso drops his cigarette and crushes it under his boot. Then, he thinks about the child that will play there tomorrow, shoveling wood chips into their mouths like idiots, and decides to pick it up. He jams it into his pocket. "You have good memories of her. Don't ruin that."

He used to resent how much Yuuji loved her. He was eight when she died, the same age Choso was when he first had to dial 911 for her. That anger had long faded, replaced with a strange amount of pity.

"But I want to know. What she did and stuff." Yuuji's voice jumps high with emotion. "I'm basically an adult, I can handle it."

"You're sixteen."

"Well, mom was doing this stuff at sixteen, so-" Yuuji is seething suddenly, brow furrowed and teeth grit.

"So?"

"So, she was old enough to be doing bad things and I'm not old enough to know about it?" He stands and the swing clatters behind him. He's stocky, yet tall, bunched with muscles that he's built from baseball. On one side of his cheek, there's a bit of chocolate stuck there, a remnant from the ice cream Choso bought him. Below it, there's a rosy hickey on his neck, a remnant of the boyfriend he hasn't told Nanami about yet. He thinks they're having sex, maybe, but doesn't know how to broach the topic without scaring his brother into never talking about it again.

"And you had tattoos at my age, by the way!"

Choso lets him stew in it, huffing and puffing. The blown out edges of first tattoo peek from under his sleeve, the image barely legible now. An older woman gave it to him at fifteen, in the basement of her house. It became so insanely infected that he ended up in the ER a couple days later.

"I'm not a kid. I can handle it." Yuuji states, calm and clear. "I'm not a kid."

A car passes, it's headlights stretching and pulling the shadows across the park. In the changes, Choso can see his mother in his brother, those soft eyes and thin lips and the same slightly crooked nose that Choso has himself. He thinks, maybe, if time was kinder and his father was better, they'd look more alike each other, but then the moment is gone and they no longer even look like siblings.

"Okay."

Yuuji untenses a bit. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Like, okay, this conversation is done, or okay, I'll tell you?"

"I'll tell you," Choso says, jamming his hands in his pocket. The cigarette butt is there, mushed and still warm against his knuckles. "But not tonight."

"What?!"

"Next time, I promise."

Choso doesn't understand why Yuuji insists on rushing away from innocence, but he knows that he can't stop him. Yuuji will find out about the abuse, the neglect, the other brothers, and the other horrors in some way or another and then things will never be the same.

"Stay a kid just a little longer." Choso resists the urge to ruffle his hair. "For me?"

"Yeah, sure," Yuuji sighs. "One more day."

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! Could you do a Bodyguard!James Potter x reader where he is guarding her during a high profile event and something happens? With a bit of angst to fluff? If you’re comfortable of course! I hope you have a wonderful day, i’m new to your page and ADORED your bodyguard james. <3

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

cw: guns, shooting

bodyguard!James x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You shift your stance a bit and have to bite down on a whimper. 

“I’m going to have to throw these shoes out after this,” you mutter to James. “I’m pretty sure there’s blood pooling around my toes.” 

“You wanna take them off?” he murmurs back, lips barely moving as he keeps his face in a mask of businesslike impassivity. 

You sigh. “I wish.” 

“You could. Just step out of them, no one’s looking over here.” 

It’s true. Every camera in the chamber is pointed to where your mom stands on the podium, her right hand raised as she takes her oath. As much as you hate coming to these things, you can’t ignore the kernel of pride shining behind your sternum. She’s waited so long for this day, dealt with so much opposition, and now she’s finally going to be able to enact some real change. You can keep up appearances for her. 

“I’d better not risk it,” you tell James. “With my luck, the second I do—” 

You’re on the ground before you even register the sound of glass shattering. James’ grip on your shoulder is harsh, almost painful, but the noise that follows has enough adrenaline spiking your bloodstream to forget about that. The loud, rapid popping of gunfire fills the chamber. 

James’ hand moves to clasp around your elbow, but you tear away from him, headed in the opposite direction. The podium is empty. Where’s your mom? Did they get her already? Is she hurt? Did she—

You’re not fast enough to outpace James, definitely not limping around in your heels, and he gets an arm around your waist, hauling you away from the center aisle. You can’t tell where the gunfire is coming from—who has the guns?—but he pushes your head down before you can look. A low buzzing burrows into your ears. You try again to go to where you last saw your mom, but James yanks you back to his side, a cutting “Stop” hissing past his lips. Any other time, a tone like that would have you stilling like a frightened bunny, but you know he’s not the danger here. 

When you don’t listen, he lifts you off the ground. The crowd is swarming, frantic and disorganized, but James maneuvers through it expertly, running down the hall until he finds an unlocked door. The bathroom door swings open for you, and James sets you down quickly, locking it before you have a second to recover. 

You lunge for the door anyway, only for twin bands to wrap around your middle. They pin your arms to your sides and press you securely to James’ front. 

“Stop. Stop it.” His tone is as hard as his grip, dispassionate to your struggling. “You cannot fight me when you’re in danger, understand?” 

“They’re not here for me,” you plead. Your voice is scratchy with desperation. 

“No, but I am. I’m here for you.” His hold tightens, but now it’s less a restraint than a comfort. You can feel his heavy breaths tickling past your ear. “Your mom has her own detail, okay? She made it out before we did, they probably have her somewhere safe.” 

Now you can hear your breathing too. Short, stilted pants that wheeze in and out of you. You think you might be shaking. 

“That’s enough,” James says gently, starting to lower you both to the ground. Your knees give easily, relinquishing your weight to his hold until he settles you both on the tiled floor. “That’s enough, alright? Can I let you go now?” 

You’re not sure you want him to anymore, but you nod. He slips out from behind you, checking the lock on the bathroom door and then removing his gun from the holster at his hip. The sight of it makes your trembling worsen. He checks something with it while murmuring to the people on the other end of his earpiece, convoluted jargon you’ve long since ceased paying attention to. 

“She’s fine,” he says after a minute. “Your mom. They got her into an office, and now we’re all just waiting for security to clear the building before we can go.” 

You drop your head to your knees, relief like a tidal wave washing over you. You hear James’ footsteps move back toward you before his big hand lands on your head. It smooths down your hair as he squats next to you. When you glance at his gun balanced on his knee, he catches the look. 

“I have to keep this out for now,” he says, looking you in your eyes like he’s making a promise, “but the safety’s staying on unless someone tries to come in here. Okay?” 

“Yeah.” You nod, still trying to get your breathing under control. 

James strokes your head again, his touch weighty and reassuring. The noise outside of the bathroom seems to be lessening, but you’re not sure how much sound is blocked by the door. There could be shooting still happening just past it, people hurt or dying in the halls. 

“I’m sorry for fighting you so hard,” you say quietly. 

James blows out a breath. “I get it,” he admits. “In those situations, it’s natural to freak out and head toward the person you want to keep safe.” He flashes you a little smile. “I’m lucky it’s already my job to do that.” You grimace back, but his expression grows serious again when he says, “You just have to keep your head, though, you know? The whole reason you and your mom have protection is to make sure someone else is already looking out for you. You don’t need to worry about her, you just need to trust me.” 

You look at him. His body is still taut, ready for a fight if one comes to him, but his expression is gentle. It’s easy to forget it’s his job to take care of you when he seems to do it so naturally. Caring emanates from James like it’s the core component of his soul. 

“I do trust you,” you tell him. 

His mouth slants, expression unbearably fond. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll work on those instincts, okay? I get that it’s not an easy adjustment to make.” 

“Have you ever had to do that? Run away from the person you cared about the most?” 

He shakes his head. “Like I said, I’m lucky. I always get to run towards you.”

#tw shooting #bodyguard!james potter #bodyguard!james potter x reader #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x self insert #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter fic #james potter angst #james potter hurt/comfort #james potter imagine #james potter scenario #james potter drabble #james potter blurb #james potter oneshot #james potter one shot #marauders au #james potter au #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders x reader

[evie-sturns]

ʙᴇᴅᴛɪᴍᴇ - ᴄʜʀɪꜱ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: chris and you have twins together, lola and maggie, bedtime is always a struggle with them.

contains: fluff, kissing, swearing.

------------------------..••°°°°••..--------------------—-

11:37pm

chris and i have been dating since highschool, 4 years ago i gave birth to twins

"girls! bedtime please, i didn't realise the time." i call out, opening the door to their shared bedroom.

maggie and lola are bouncing on their double bed while squealing, i walk over to them, my hands resting on my waist. "are you meant to be doing this?"

they both pause to look over at me, innocence spread across their face.

"no.." maggie says quietly, i nod with a small smile

"are you ready for bed?" i ask as the girls flop down on the bed, "yes!" lola says throwing her arms up with a cute grin.

i pull up the covers over them, "stay in bed for the whole night okay? daddy will be in the kitchen until late, so bother him alright?" i say, pressing kisses to their foreheads.

walking out of their room, i flick off the lights behind me. i close their door softly and go out into the kitchen.

chris is sitting on a dining table chair, his phone in one hand and a pepsi can in the other.

"they asleep?" chris asks, putting his phone down "thankfully." i reply with a sigh, sitting down on chris's lap with a heavy sigh.

he plants a long kiss into my hair "i love you so much."

i flip myself around to straddle chris, moving my hair to one side i collide our lips together desperatly. "fuck.." chris breathes into the kiss.

bang.

a loud bang comes from the kids room, i instantly pull away from the kiss, my eyebrows scrunching i throw myself off of chris's lap.

i hear excitable laughing coming from outside their door. i swing open their door, the bedside table is tipped over, maggie and lola are giggling while throwing stuffed animals at each other.

"lola and maggie." i yell sternly, their heads instantly snap round to look at me, their face dropping.

"do you know what time is it? almost midnight." i glare at them

"i am going to put you to bed and if i hear another noise come from this room, dad is going to come in here and be very angry." im cut off by lola

"mommy but- but maggie keeps taking the blanket and my stuffie." she whines.

i shake my head and shut the door for the second time tonight.

"chris-" i say walking into the kitchen "shh i know." he says, grabbing my waist and picking me up. i groan into his shoulder as he walks us into the living room.

"lets watch a movie okay?" chris says calmly, the warm sleves of his crewnecks wrapped around me.

he plonks us down on the couch, i lay on his body comfortably.

-

1:34am

"this is the best part shush!!" i giggle.

"mooom!" i hear lola laugh as she runs into the room, clutching the ear of her bunny toy in one hand.

i look over at chris, whose rubbing his eyes with his ringed hands.

"maggie wet the bed." she points to her bedroom with a snort, covering her smile with her stuffed animal.

chris sits up, moving me off him and walking over to lola. he scoops her up with one arm, looking into her eyes he starts "did you hear what mom said?" he asks, maintaining eye contact with lola.

"well mommy's stupid!" lola says sassily, my jaw goes slack.

"lola no." chris says, more stern than ive ever heard him. he carries lola out of the room.

i lay back on the couch, closing my eyes and instantly drifting to sleep.

9:39am (the next day)

the harsh sunlight hits my body from the window to my left. i sit up, dazed and somehow in pyjamas, even though i fell asleep in jeans and a tanktop.

"what the fuck.." i groan, my eyes adjusting to the blinding light.

chris walkss into the living room "hey!! you're awake." he says happily.

"oh yeah hope you dont mind, i changed you last night after i changed the girls sheets, you were knoocked outt though." he says with a laugh.

"oh shit wait-" he says, doing a full 180° out of the living room.

he comes back in about a minute, hes holding lola and maggie, one in each hand. theyve both got small cards in their hands and a guilty expression on their face.

"chris what is this?" i ask, standing up off the couch.

"mommy i'm very sorry for being awake late last night." lola says, chris sets her down on two feet and she trots up to me, handing me the card.

the cards are in chris's hand writing, but has a drawing made by lola on the front.

"she told me what to write." chris clarifies setting down maggie aswell.

maggie runs up to me, "and im sorry for wetting the bed but dad says it wasn't my fault and you were just tired and grumpy and it was okay -.."

shes cut off by chris's hand over her mouth "shh shush".

"christopher!" i laugh, slapping his arm with a scoff.

—-----------------------..••°°°°••..-------------------—-

got a good feeling bout this one team!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo

[gurugirl]

hi can u write something about step dad harry and yn going for a trip on a boat with her mom together and he secretly takes her to a room downstairs while her mom is upstairs and she rides his face and like his facial is covered with his arousal… u can add something more too& make it spicy?? theres just something about this photo, i couldnt resist

stepdad!harry x stepdaughter!reader

I started writing something else for stepdad!Harry but this just made my mind go blank for anything else because I can’t resist these photos and it’s summertime so we’ve already got the vibes going. Thank you for the request, babe!

Note: As a reminder Y/n is 22 and Harry is 28. Both are adults and met as adults. xoxo

Word Count: 2371

Warning: 18+ only, smut, the tiniest lit bit of degradation, cheating, inappropriate relationship between a stepdad and stepdaughter. Don't read if you don't like!!! xoxo

stepdad!harry masterlist

Your mom had rented a boat for a day over the weekend. She hadn’t had many days off but she wanted to have a day out in the sun with her two favorite people while summer was still in swing.

She even encouraged you to invite a friend to come along. So you did.

Harry could tell right away that you were being a little bit cheeky. He’d taken care of you the night before and told you to behave on the boat but you rarely did as he asked these days.

Your girlfriend Lei came along. She was focused on her cell phone most of the time which Harry found annoying too. He expected that you’d wear a cute little bathing suit that barely hid a thing but he didn’t expect it to expose nearly your entire backside. It looked closer to cheeky panties that were almost thongs than a bathing suit bottom. He’d never seen you wear this one. Cheeky bottoms, cheeky attitude.

The cooler was full of drinks, music was playing, the sun was high in the sky, and everything smelled like sunscreen and tanning oil.

Harry anchored the boat in a deep area away from other boaters as Lei (finally putting her phone down) and your mom dove into the water to swim. You were lying on the bed at the front and sunning yourself with a beer next to you, sunglasses over your eyes, and a smirk on your face.

“What’s so funny?” Harry stood over you and blocked your sun. The bit of sweat that began to form on your skin and between your breasts was making it difficult for him to avert his eyes. He was glad your mom jumped into the water so he could look without fear of your mom seeing.

You pulled your sunglasses up and frowned at Harry, the grin falling from your face, “You're blocking my sun. Move…” You waved your arm at him in a shooing gesture.

Harry caught your wrist and you gasped, “Don’t talk to me like that.” He spoke lowly, still hovering over you and looking down at your body.

“I’m just sunning myself. What do you want?” Harry knew you were trying to push it with him. Figured you thought you could get away with it a bit since your mom and friend were in tow.

“Asked you a question. You’ve been a brat all day. What’s with you?” He knew what was “with you”. You liked to tease and your attitude always got him worked up. You liked the back and forth. But so did, Harry, even if he’d never admit it.

You let out an annoyed sigh, “I’m not a brat. I’ve been really good. I’m just having fun today. What’s with you?”

Harry really wanted to yank you up by your ponytail and teach you a lesson but when he looked over his shoulder he could still see your mom and Lei in the water not far off.

You tugged your wrist out of his grip and flipped over to your tummy to sun your backside.

Harry watched as you shifted and settled your head into the crook of your arm and close your eyes. The spread of your thighs and your bottom looked irresistible. If he knew he wouldn’t get caught he’d have stuffed his face into your soft cheeks and bitten down and made you squeal right then and there. He loved making you squeal.

A new song came on as Harry reached for a beer for himself and looked out over the water. Trying to ignore you. Trying to think of anything but your skin slowly tanning and exposed to him. Didn’t want to imagine the way you’d taste as he saw sweat forming along your inner thighs. It was hot out and you were sweating just enough that he could see the glisten. Imagined that sweat was forming under your bikini bottoms and how delicious you’d taste. One of his favorite and depraved cravings was the taste of you after you worked out and all your bits were sweaty and salty.

“Harry!” He turned to see your mom waving to get his attention. He stood up to walk toward the edge so he could see what she wanted.

“Throw over both of the inflatable mattresses. We’re going to lay out in the water for a bit.”

Harry picked up both the pink inflatable water mattresses and tossed them into the water for your mom and your friend. The pair were laughing and chatting like old friends. That was the nice thing about your mom. She got along with everyone.

But now Harry realized there’d be a little time for him to do just as he wished with you in the cabin below the boat.

He sat down next to you on the cushion and put his hand over your ankle, “You need to get out of the sun for a bit. You’re gonna get burnt.”

You scoffed and shook your head, “No I’m not.”

Harry huffed a breath through his nose as he looked back to the water and then back down at your and your smooth thighs. The sweat he’d noticed between your thighs was now forming under your butt cheeks and he was going to go mad if he didn’t get a lick in. But he knew he’d want more than just a lick.

Instead of waiting for your attitude to clear up, because he knew it wouldn’t, he swatted your bottom quickly and then leaned over your back to speak into your ear, “We’re going into the cabin below right now.” He pulled your arm and you gasped dramatically before looking toward where your mom and Lei were floating in the water. You pouted at Harry as he pulled you to the door and down into the cabin before you could protest further.

And Harry normally liked to be begged. Liked it when you wanted him and you were asking to be punished or you were all squirmy for him but he couldn’t stop his mouth from watering. He wanted you to sit on his face and smother him with your pussy and your sweat. It was a bit out of character but he had no time to waste. He’d punish you another time for your attitude.

When he dragged you the small built-in couch at the side of the room you figured he’d spank you or push you down to your knees and make you suck him off or something. But instead, Harry laid on his back and pulled you with him, “Sit on my face,” his words were panted and breathy.

You scrunched your brows at him and looked at him in question as he pulled at you to climb up, “What are you doing?”

Harry sat up and kept his hand around your forearm, “I fucking said sit on my face. I won’t ask you again. I’m doing you a favor.” He was about to lose control and start begging you. Which was not what he wanted at all but he needed it. Needed to have your pussy on his mouth and nose. God he didn’t know what had gotten into him. But he’d forego a blowjob to eat you out in this instance. It was like he was desperate for nourishment.

You squinted as your frown turned into a small teasing grin, “Yeah? Daddy needs to eat?”

Harry rolled his eyes and laid flat as he dragged you up and grasped your thighs, pulling you down, over his face. You still had your bikini bottoms on and Harry moaned into the fabric the moment you settled onto his face.

You smelled so concentrated. You hadn’t showered that morning since you knew you’d be on the boat sunning and swimming. And the sweat that had formed made your natural fragrance even more mouthwatering.

Harry smacked your ass and then pulled at the fabric swiftly, bringing the tiny bikini bottom to the side so your bare pussy was pressed over his mouth. He kept his hands at your ass, fingers on his right hand looped into the material pulling the crotch away for his access.

He sucked and licked as he kept you pressed down hard over his mouth. You steadied yourself by holding onto the edge of the arm of the couch.

His cock thickened fast when he finally got a taste. He wanted to make you come and get his face all nasty with your arousal and sweat before your mom and your friend came back into the boat.

You gasped at how ravenous he was. “Hhharry…” you breathed when your clit was nipped at. But when he began to guide you up and down on his face, over his nose, and down to his chin your breathy pants grew into small little squeaks. Just like he loved.

You began to wet his face when your clit was being nudged and poked into. Looking down at him and the naughty, dirty deed that was being committed only 100 feet from your mother and friend out in the water drove you to your peek quickly.

Harry was grunting in muffled noises into your pussy as he smeared you up and down over himself. He could barely breathe but he was in heaven.

And when he felt your thighs begin to quiver he knew you were close. He pushed you over his chin to catch his breath, “Such a nasty slut. Needed to have your pussy cleaned with my tongue,” Harry figured a little bit of degradation might make him feel like he was still in charge. Still calling the shots but when he dragged you back up and you began griding yourself down on his face and you pulled your tits of your little bikini top out and moaned your words, “Mmm… Daddy needed to clean my pussy so bad. So good at it too,” she rolled her hips and Harry pressed his digits harder into your soft skin as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

It was too late. He’d shown how weak he was for you by doing this in the first place. He needed your pussy on his face and he was getting exactly what he wanted and even though you’d been a brat and he should be denying you an orgasm and making you give him one, there was just something about the way you looked, and how he was so desperate to put his tongue in between your crack and your folds and get your taste and slick coated on his tongue and face that made him push down his need to dominate you like he normally did.

Your hips began to jerk faster and you looked down at Harry with only his eyes peeking up at you and his dark curls a mess under your thighs. It was explicit. Your pussy lips were spread over his nose and your soft, wet entrance was right over his lips. He couldn’t breathe but he seemed to love it as he was only egging you on to move faster and holding you tightly to his face.

The heat of your orgasm began to unfold as you pinched your nipples and rode his face hard. You loved this position. Loved giving him a small taste of his own medicine, so to speak. He was rough with you so many times, always making it hurt a bit. He often choked you and made it so you couldn’t breathe when he had his huge cock lodged down your throat. This felt like a bit of payback, even though he wanted it.

“Ffuck!” You yelped when you felt the snap of your release unfurl, “Daddy… yes!”

Harry closed his eyes and took a small breath through his wet nostrils before you ground yourself back up and over his nose. He could feel his cock throbbing in his green shorts as you gushed on his face and came with a loud groan. He doubted anyone could hear you from the cabin under the boat but it was loud. He couldn’t care, though. He needed to get you off. Needed it.

You whined and rocked on his face until you were satisfied and your orgasm waned. The moment he felt you still he pushed you down off of himself and yanked his big cock from his swim trunks and stroked it right over your face as you were flat on your back, releasing his own hot come all over your face and your neck as he gasped and held himself up with his palm on the inside wall above the couch. He thought he could be okay to go without an orgasm but he was so close to coming without even having touched himself that the moment he wrapped his fist around his shaft his balls tightened up and his dick began to pulse and leak and then he was coming in ropes all over you.

It was a much bigger mess than he intended. You had globs of his sticky come on your face as you smiled and licked your lips when he tucked himself back in.

Normally he’d have done something nasty and depraved at that moment. Would have had you wipe your face up with your palm and lick it all off while he lapped away your messy arousal to clean you up. But there was no time for it.

He pulled you to standing and brought you to the small sink with paper towels and soap.

You smiled proudly as you wiped yourself up and Harry washed his face, hating to remove the scent of you from his nose and cheeks and overgrown scruff. But he couldn’t have your mom kissing him and smelling your pussy all over his face. Which was unfortunate. He’d have loved to have pulled that off but as oblivious as your mom could be, she wasn’t dumb. She’d recognize the scent of pussy. And she’d know it wasn’t hers.

Harry tossed the paper towel and swatted your bottom again, leaning his chest into your back as you started to wipe your sticky crease, “Don’t think this means you’re off the hook. You’re in for it later, little girl.”

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[xxblairexxss]

Duty

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x pregnant!reader

Theme : Angst / fluff

It reached 3.4k before I could even do the climax so I’m just gonna drop this one first or else I’m gonna rush the next part and ended up ruining everything.

Google result! Let’s hope this is accurate. I spent hours on website trying to find this. PROM is a shorten for premature rupture of membranes!

Requested!

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Charles was ecstatically happy to start the new season with the brightest hope because of how he ended the previous one as the second place in the World Driver Championship, even more elated when this was his first time starting the new season as a new father-to-be but it was undeniable that Charles had been struggling since the first race.

He seemed to be developed a new trait as well as upgraded some of his old ones ever since your pregnancy. Your first pregnancy. He had asked you to stop accompanying him to races which resulted to a fight, and you claimed that he didn’t need your support anymore. He eventually gave in but with conditions where you needed to stay by his side all the time or if he was occupied, he would force Joris to stay with you. When you got into your second trimester, he had again, asked you to to stop attending the races but you still wanted to, so he gave in again but only allowed you to attend the qualifying and race day so you started missing his practice day, which caused the media to question about your absence and Charles had to reassure everyone how you had been doing fine, but he had to be stricter on you to avoid any unwanted accidents. When you entered your third trimester, he didn’t allow you to attend any of the races at all and this time, he didn’t give in, no matter what.

Even so, he never allowed you to be left alone. You would either be at his parent’s house, your parents’ house, or he would bring either one to your house.

No matter how much you reassured him.

“Charles, can I just stay here?” Your voice trailed off, already feeling gloomy from what he was gonna say. You were sitting on the bed, looking at your husband going in and out of the room packing his stuffs before his flight in a few hours.

“What was it, baby?” He walked back into the room, placing one of his perfume into the small luggage bag and cocked his brow, waiting for you to repeat what he had missed.

“I don’t want to go to my parents house this weekend.”

He heaved a sigh of defeat and it made you regret for bringing up the topic. “You know I’m doing this for your safety, right? Honey, I won’t be here for a week, that’s long enough. What if something happened?”

“I know but I’m not due for another month.”

He took your hand in his, thumb softly grazing on your knuckles. “You are already 35 weeks. I can’t take the risk of leaving you alone. The doctor told us you need to be careful as they suspected PROM, no?”

“But–“ You jutted your bottom lips, looking away when your husband tilted his head away, eyes squeezing shut when you tried to argue even more.

“But what, honey? Go on, I’m listening.”

“Y/F/N wanted to come over with her little girls this weekend. I just wanted to do a little movie night and bake some cookies with them.” You felt Charles moved his shirts that you were folding in front of you away and skittered closer, seeing how you refused to look at him now.

“Can I see your pretty face?”

He beamed, feeling his heart caught the eternity’s mist as you looked up to him with teary eyes. “My crybaby.” He had realised since you entered your second trimester, your hormones seemed to be ramped up and you had been in a constant mood swings and crying spells, crying at almost everything. He had told his mom, worried about it as he wasn’t sure why. Even after he talked to you a lot about it and she said it was normal, but it sure took him a while to get used to it.

“Charles..” You hit on his arm and he chuckled.

“Alright, alright. Just this one time, okay? Make sure to pick up my call and let me know if it hurts anywhere.”

“I love you!” You exclaimed and threw your arms around his waist, head leaning against his chest.

“I’m serious, Y/N. Let me know if anything happens. Don’t make me regret my decision. Promise?”

“Promise!”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Few days passed, Charles got the podium for the second time in a row and you had been eagerly waiting for him to walk through the door. It was a shame you weren’t there to hug him as soon as he hopped off the fast car but he’d made sure you didn’t feel left alone as he called you right after, even mentioned you and his unborn daughter in his interviews.

“Congratulations! Two podiums in a row!” You threw you arms in the air and hopped, stopping when Charles held your waist.

“Careful, love.” He brushed his lips on your forehead, letting it linger against your skin. “I missed you, and you too, little one.” He bended down and stroked on your middle.

“I wanted to bake you muffins last night but I fell asleep because your child won’t stop kicking me.”

He placed his arm around waist, pulling you close as much as he could, another hand on the side of your belly. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. We can bake muffins together now that I’m home?”

“Are you tired?”

He pulled a funny expression and nodded impatiently. “I am worn out, baby. Total knocked out.”

“Can you buy me the matcha ice cream?”

“I bought you three tubs before I left, didn’t I?”

“I–“ You were going to tell him your excuse but ended up sucking your lips into a thin line, pulling away to pinch your husband on his arm. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m gonna cry!”

He winced and recoiled, hand leaving your belly to stroke on his waist where you just pinched. “Ow! What did I do?”

“You looked at me as if it was impossible for someone to finish three tubs of ice cream in one week! See? You are doing it again! I hate you.”

“What do you want me to do?” His mouth widen in disbelief and brought his palm up to cover his eyes. “Is this okay now?”

“Better.” You giggled and went back hugging his waist. You definitely missed hugging him without your belling getting in the way but it won’t be that long now. “Can you still get me the ice cream?”

“Of course, love. I’ll be right back.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles has been home for a week and day by day, you could see how he got progressively quite. He didn’t ignore you, didn’t raise his voice at you, he never did. He was still the husband that you wished every woman would have but he had been looking as if he was keeping a lot to himself.

“Charles?” You heard him hummed in response, his face is buried against your neck, his arm draped on your belly as you played with his hair. “Are you okay?”

“Why did you ask?”

“I feel like you are worrying about something. Talk to me, honey. What’s wrong?” He went silenced, his hand left your belly as he pulled away.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I’m just scared? No– worried. No– I’m not sure. Probably both.”

You placed your under your round middle as you turned, scooted facing your husband who looked like he was in a deep dejection. “Was it because of this weekend?”

“Yeah. I just can’t afford to disappoint them again, love.”

“How do you know you were gonna disappoint them?” You placed your hand on his neck, thumb brushing against his stubble. “Hm?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like it? It’s not the first time, honey.”

“Don’t be too harsh on yourself. It’s not even the race day yet but you are already assuming the worst. Give yourself a chance to prove yourself. I know my husband very well and I know he can ace everything thrown in his face.”

His lips turned into an upwards curve as he bended down to kiss your belly, hand patted on the side of it. “Mommy really knows how to cheer daddy up, doesn’t she? How I wish you could come too, baby.”

“We can come! Right, baby?” You replied, your hand strokes on the other side of your middle, voice filled with a hint of hope.

“No. I didn’t actually mean it, honey. It was hypothetical.” He straighten his body, and you saw the frown he always made whenever you told him you wanted to come to any races.

“But I really want to go..”

“You know what my answer will be, don’t you? I’m not gonna change it this time, Y/N.”

“This could be my last time attending your race before she comes. I don’t want to stay in the house. It’s getting boring and I have nothing to do.” You had been waiting for him to look at you as perhaps, there could be a tiny expectation where he would change his mind but he didn’t. “You’ll never understand.” You pulled your hand away, standing up to leave the living room.

“Baby,” He called out and of course, he got ignored. He knew it and wasn’t even expecting for you to reply. “Hear me out first. Y/N–“ You slammed the door and locked it before he could pushed it back. “Okay, locking the door is not it, honey.” He knocked and waited, but he didn’t hear anything. “Y/N, open the door.” Nothing. “Baby, please.” Still nothing. “Open the door or I’m gonna eat your ice cream. I’m serious.”

“You are mean.” He bit his lips, trying to hold his smile when you opened the door a second after, glaring at him with your arms folded.

“Oh? I’m the mean one when you just slammed the door and locked your husband out of the room? Baby, can you at least hear what I was gonna say?”

“I know what you’re gonna say. You don’t have to say it to my face.” You rolled your eyes and walked back to the bed.

“I thought you know how to read my mind. I was gonna ask you to be my date this Sunday but I think I got rejected.” He was going to stand up, pretending to be walking away but you gripped on his arm.

“Oh my god! Really? Can I really go to the race?”

“Last one before our little girl arrives.”

He gave in, yet again.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You had been feeling cramps ever since the weekend arrived. Your back had been hurting since your third trimester but it hurt even more these days, especially when you laid down. You could barely fall asleep even when you tried to sleep sitting against the headboard so you always woke up feeling all worn out which caused you to lose appetite. Even your head hurt due to the lack of sleep.

Charles had realised you were somewhat different but every time he asked you, you would just brush it off, saying that it was normal for pregnant women to feel like this nearly the end of the pregnancy. He realised you didn’t ask him to buy anything that you craved for which you used to every single day. You had been really quite. You only took a bite out of your meal only when he caught you but every time he asked if you were fine, you would always say yes, telling him to stop worrying. He had been contemplating if he could skip practice day, in any way possible but you got so mad at him for “being silly”.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You were sitting in front of your dressing table, contemplating about which scent you should go with when your belly went tight, as if going through another cramp and it made you winced in pain. Your body slightly bended towards your middle.

“Honey? Are you done?”

“Y– yeah, I’m almost done.”

“Hey.” Charles peeked his head and strode to where you were sitting, crouching down so he could see your face. “I know I’ve been asking you this for like the million times but are you really fine? You are worrying me, love. You don’t have to come if you are not feeling well.”

“I am fine! I am just excited. I promise.”

His hand went to your round belly and softly rubbed on it. “I saw your face scrunched up earlier. Is she giving you a hard time?”

“She just has been kicking non stop. She’s probably too excited to see his daddy wins the race.” You placed your hand on his and cackled.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that, baby.”

“You can, honey! We’ll be rooting for you!”

“If that’s what my girls wished for then I guess I could make it comes true. P5 to P1 doesn’t sound hard, does it? We need to go. Are you all set?” He stood up straight and pinched on your cheek. “You look beautiful, baby.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile from the compliments. “Liar. Can you help me up?” You stretched out your arms for him to pull you up.

“Ready? 1, 2, 3!” His body was slightly slanted to give you enough space when you stood up. “I’m not lying. My wife is so beautiful I almost mistook her as an angel.”

“Whatever.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

They were expecting rain to come since it had been raining during both practice and qualifying round but it felt like the sun was just a hand fist away from your head the moment you stepped out of the car. The media had to make it worse since this was your first appearance in the paddock in your last semester where you looked undeniably pregnant now. They had to block your way when you just wanted to sit down as fast as you can, even after Charles had rejected every request. His arm never left your waist. He even shook his head to people who asked to interview him regarding the race, telling them that he would come back after he sent you to the Ferrari’s hospitality.

“Here’s your drink. Oh, and I also got you some chocolates because it’s hot and you always needed something sweet. Some vitamins which I’m not sure if you ever need them but, you know, just in case. And– “

“Charles, I’m fine. Go and do your duty as a driver, honey.” You held his hand that was halted in the air as he was searching for something else he could give you.

“Are you sure? You were trembling earlier, Y/N.”

“It was just the sun. I’m fine now. See?” You cupped his cheeks and giggled when he shivered, feeling your cold hands against his skin. “Go! Don’t make them wait.”

“I’ll come back to you before I have to get into the car. Don’t be in the garage. Stay in here. It’s more comfortable, alright? I love you.” He leaned in to kiss you and pecked on your shirt covered belly. “And you too, little one. Please be nice on mommy.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You were lying through your teeth but Charles didn’t catch any of it. He was probably too nervous for the race as he could usually read you like an open book. Your cramps had been going on recurrently, your belly is hard to touch and it felt heavier. The steps taken from your car to the paddock made you out of breath, your legs were shaking from having to walk through the cramps but your husband knew nothing about any of it. You felt like the weather and the tension from earlier might had something to do with it. You weren’t going to tell him because he had enough on his plate and though you knew he didn’t mind it at all, you didn’t want him to do anything hasty on the race day. He had told you multiple times how he could skip the practice and even the qualifying round if you just told him something was wrong and if he knew about what you had been feeling these past few days, he wouldn’t even be attending this race and you couldn’t afford that. He was a Ferrari driver before he was your husband. This should be his priority, not you. It’s Monaco, he had always been the centre in every Monaco GP, what would the fans say if he, the only Monegasque in the grid was missing on the important day.

You weren’t sure why you had been feeling this way. Your due date was 3 weeks away. That was surely long enough. You even googled if it was possible for women to get Braxton hicks in their 37 weeks into the pregnancy but most of the answers sent you to shiver that you refused to read in detail and tried to hold it off, until the race, at the very least.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles couldn’t see you before he got into the car. He had been pushing his schedule back when he chose to stay with you in the hospitality earlier so he had no more gap before he race. He was now in the grid walk, fireproofs suit on as he was putting on the balaclava, the white-coloured open mask while one of his race assistant, Xavi was holding his helmet. “Where’s Joris?”

“He’s there. Joris!”

Joris came running from the side of the grid and Charles turned to look at him. “Please keep an eye on Y/N for me. I have a feeling she’s not telling me something.”

“Got it. You don’t have to worry about her.”

“If, God forbid, something happened to her during the race, please let me know. At any time of the race.” He then took the helmet from Xavi and gripped on Joris’s shoulder as he was about to walk away. “Promise me, Joris. Let me know. No matter what position I am.”

“Nothing will happen to her, Charles. I’ll be by her side. Just focus on your race.”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Ow..” You winced, steps came to a halt as you placed your hand on the wall to hold yourself. The cramp became more and more intense you could barely stand up any longer than 5 minutes. Even a walk to the bathroom took you long enough as you had to keep on stopping or your legs would just give away. “Not too hard, baby..”

“Y/N, you okay?” Joris came and your face instantly became more at ease to hide the pain.

“I’m fine, Joris. I just feel a little hot.” He offered you a hand and as soon as you pulled your hand from the wall, your whole body became wobbly and Joris immediately caught you in his arms.

“Woah, woah, slow down. Let’s walk you back to the lounge area, alright? Just lean on me.”

You felt a chill as you started sweating abnormally though you were in an air-conditioned area. Soon as you took a step forward, everything became a blur and you lost control of yourself, giving in completely.

“Y/N!” You felt Joris’s body against yours as you fell to the ground. Your eyes were heavy that it felt like it required a huge amount of energy to force it opened and you let yourself capiltulated to the darkness.

Joris immediately called for a medic and he was told that you needed to be taken to the emergency room right away, making him even more overwrought as it sounded more serious than he thought. “Can you wait until I informed her husband first?”

“Sir, we are suspecting internal emergency. We can’t wait. Leave us her emergency contact number and we’ll call them to direct to the hospital.”

Internal emergency. Joris could barely think straight and became more perturbed. One because Charles had given him the responsibility to look over you and he thought it was just his friend being overprotective. Second because you had been more like a family, like a little sister to him so he didn’t want anything bad happened to you. He had given Charles’s parent a call, telling Pascale to call your parents as well before he barged into the garage. He couldn’t cross the pit lane due to safety precaution but the group of people who had direct access to the drivers’ radio were all sitting across the pit lane. He ended up grabbing a random engineer to help him passed the words. “Tell them to inform Charles that his wife had been brought to the emergency room.”

He then saw the engineer walked and whispered to the person in charge and felt a little relief because now all he had to do is wait for Charles so he could go to the hospital.

But he didn’t know none of his words were being conveyed.

“Charles,”

Silenced.

“Guys, I’m listening.”

“No, nothing. Just wanted to inform that we are sticking to plan A.”

“Copy that.”

Joris waited, and waited. He was so anxious he couldn’t even stand still. He saw Charles on the final turn and thought to himself that he was gonna came into the pit lane any second,

but he didn’t. His car passed the starting line again as he carried onto the next lap.

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @aundercover @love4lando @shinrjj

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#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

[hysteria-things]

SNEAK AWAY (part two)

read part one here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: nate x sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and nate are still going strong, but a lot of fans notice a few things in the new video…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 539

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: short and sweet!

chris fic tomorrow😌 (or tonight it depends when i start writing it)

y/nsturniolo

liked by madifilipowicz and 23,492 others

y/nsturniolo hawaii dump with my favorite people ever😌🌺☀️🏝️🩷

4,940 comments

nicolassturniolo yup yup yup

user you’re so pretty

↳ y/nsturniolo i love you🥹

↳ user HOLY SHIT HI QUEEN

nathandoe8 hey (with rizz)

↳ matthew.sturniolo what the hell

↳ user YIKES LMAOOO

↳ user praying for you nate🙏

madifilipowicz 🎉💕🌊

user what’s with all the nate pics🤨

↳ y/nsturniolo idk :/

user why do i ship her and nate🫣

↳ user THIS

↳ christophersturniolo no lol

“boys, please leave your sister alone.“ you hear your mother scold from outside of the bedroom door.

you guys got back from hawaii two days ago, but the triplets are staying in boston for an extra week before going back to LA.

“do not barge in there—” she scolds again, but it’s too late when the door swings open.

the three of them stand there panting, while marylou looks at them with her hands on her hips. it doesn’t end there; trevor comes running in and jumps on your bed.

his tail wags as he climbs onto your lap, leaving kisses on your face.

nick turns to her. “she’ll survive, mom.”

she sighs, walking out of your vision. your brothers stare at you like you’re in trouble. “we need to talk.” chris says, crossing his arms.

oh boy.

“about?”

they side eye each other. “you and nate.” matt says.

oh boy.

you clear your throat, trying not to barf everywhere. “w-what do you mean?”

“have you not seen the clips or comments?” chris asks, them now walking over to your bed and sitting. at this point, trevor has fallen asleep on your legs.

“no,” you answer, playing with the dog’s ears.

“girl.” nick tuts, pulling out his phone and tapping buttons before turning it to you. “look at this.”

you take his phone, scrolling through the comments on a tiktok.

thank GOD i’m not the only one who thought this

they HAVE to be hiding something they seem a little too close in this video😭

damn y’all detectives or something💀

imagine this is how nick, matt, and chris find out LMAOOOO

i always shipped them they seem so cute together :(

you stop scrolling the comments and watch the video. it’s a compilation of you and nate in the background.

one of the clips is when you guys were in the restaurant, and your chin rests on nate’s shoulder as the both of you look over something on his phone.

another clip is when you guys are walking, you and nate in the back of the group with his hand brushing against yours.

a few others show the way you two look at each other, eyes full of love and lust.

maybe you guys weren’t being as slick as you thought.

you hand nick’s phone back, nuzzling more into your blanket. “why didn’t you tell us?!” chris exclaims.

you shrug. “‘cause you’ll kill him.”

they roll their eyes. “we won’t kill him. we’ll threaten him.” nick clarifies.

as if that’s any better.

walking hand in hand, you and nate make way through the local park that's bare at this hour of the night. “so you’re telling me i should look out for threats?”

“yeah.” you smile, looking up at him before he gives you a sneak-attack kiss.

he sighs. “i’m kind of glad we don’t need to sneak away anymore. it got so depressing.”

you laugh, followed by an exhale. words cannot explain how much you love this kid. even though it was a hard launch to the public, you’re happy that you can show him off now. to make sure people know he’s yours and you’re his.

hopefully, no threats or killings take place by your overprotective siblings.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon @elliesturniolo1

#nate doe #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nathan doe #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #nate doe smut #nate doe fanfic #nate doe fluff

[greatooglymooglyyy]

Family Ties (Chris Sturniolo)

contains: fluff, kissing, general sweetest, meeting y/n's family, cussing, a bit of suggestive language, 900+ words

a/n: hehe the brother is so based on mine. i hope y'all like this cus i think it's cute.

“What do I get out of it?”

My little brother gives me a smug little grin that I’m just dying to wipe off his face. But sadly, I need him on my side tonight. I cross my arms and give him a death glare.

“20.”

“50.”

“30.”

“Make it 35. Isn’t your boyfriend rich or something?”

I roll my eyes at his stupidity and stick out my pinky finger for him to shake. He glances from my finger to my face for a couple of seconds in disbelief. “God, you’re such a nerd.” He mutters before latching pinkies with me and shaking once.

“Okay, dickhead. No bringing up my exes. No scaring him off. And if Mom or Dad start getting too embarrassing, you throw me a Hail Mary.”

He rolls his eyes but nods. “Poor guy. He’s gotta wait a little longer to find out you’re a freak of nature, I guess.”

I buck at him and he flinches causing me to grin. “Eleven years old and still a bit-”

“I’m thirteen, you asshole.”

“Aren’t you a little short for a twelve-year-old?”

“Thirt- You know what. Just for that, I’m telling the story about when you pissed on that roller coaster.”

“Alright. Chill-”

********************

I hear a knock on the door and jump up before my parents can bombard Chris. I swing it open and he’s standing there looking calm as ever. God, I wish I had his energy right now. I step outside and close the door behind me, stepping into his arms and reaching up for a kiss. He smiles against my lips and then pulls away, brushing my hair from my face.

“You look nervous.” He teases lightly. I tilt my head and give him a duh face and he laughs. “They’re gonna love me.”

“Well, of course. How could they not? You’re just so humble.”

“And handsome-”

“And down to earth-”

“And so in love with their daughter.” He gives me his best cheesy smile at this and I roll my eyes, pretending that didn’t almost take me out the game.

“Okay, come on, you fucking cornball.” I joke, slipping my hand in his. He tugs my hand, stopping me before I can open the door, and leans down to kiss me again quickly.

“Alright, now we can go.”

*******************

“Do you want to see her sixth-grade talent show?” My mom says excitedly, reaching over to turn the page of the photo album Chris is holding. I look over at my brother giving him my “help me right the fuck now” eyes and he interrupts before Chris can respond.

“Chris, you game at all?”

I breathe a sigh of relief and remind myself to go extra hard on his birthday gift this year. Chris sits up a little straighter, clearly excited, as my brother and he start up a conversation about “prime Fortnite.” Losers. My dad chimes in about how they haven’t lived until they’ve played the Nintendo 64 and my mom and I share a long-suffering look. She stands to head to the kitchen and I follow her out, leaving the boys to talk.

I stand next to her by the sink, watching her start to rinse off dishes for a second then nudge her shoulder with mine so she looks at me.

“So?”

She turns to me smiling brightly. “He’s sweet. I can tell he’s a good kid. And you look so happy. Every five seconds, you’re smiling up at him like he hung the stars, my love. But the best part? He’s looking right back at you the same way.” I look at her stunned for a second and drop my head on her shoulder, a little embarrassed.

“I love you, mom.” She pats the side of my head, pulling me closer.

“You played hockey? No shit! I damn near went to the NHL, I was so good in my day. C’mon. You, me, field hockey outside right now.”

My dad’s booming voice pulls me right out of the moment and I spin on my heels to go rescue my boyfriend.

**********************

“It was so nice to meet you guys,” Chris says with a genuine smile, reaching to give Mom a hug.

��You just come right on back whenever you want that ass-whooping, son.” My dad says, throwing a fake haymaker which Chris fake dodges with a laugh. He turns to my brother and daps him up. “You got my gamertag, right.” My brother gives him an enthusiastic nod, looking the most excited I’ve seen him in a while.

“Hell yeah, bro. Hop on Fortnite later.” Chris nods and I pull him to the door before they can start back up. As soon as we step outside, I jump up into his arms and pepper kisses all over his face. He laughs, wrapping his arms tightly around me and walking us to his car.

“Thank you for being a good sport, Chris. They love you.”

He lowers me back to the ground and smiles down at me throwing me a fake cocky shrug.

“I told you, I’m good like that.”

I roll my eyes, step closer to him, and whisper low, “You want to see what I’m good at?”

He raises his eyebrows and then picks me up again, carrying me to the passenger seat as I shriek and laugh.

"Hell yeah, I need a full demonstration.”

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo oneshot #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo oneshots #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fandom #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

[luveline]

dad!steve eek!!! maybe some for kbd!? no rush, anyway love you!! <3

kisses before dinner au —mom!reader, 1.1k

Bethie squirms uncomfortably in your lap. “I’m sorry, mommy,” she says. 

“Well don’t be,” you say, hand to her forehead and holding her back so she can see your face, how you’re not angry. “It’s okay. You don’t like it?” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

You don’t get it. Bethie hasn’t eaten anything all day. She refused breakfast, snacks, smoothies, and hot chocolate. The plate in front of her repulses her, no matter how gently you plead with her to try it. “Honey, I don’t see how that can be true.”

She’s in your lap because you’d been hoping helping her eat might make it easier for her. She was thrilled to sit in your lap, but not even slightly inclined to eat her mac and cheese, or any sides. You offer her a slim carrot baton shining with honey, wiggling it from side to side. 

“Doesn’t that look yummy?” you ask softly. 

She looks down at her hands. 

You drop the carrot. You’re genuinely perturbed. Not easily panicked, this has thrown you off kilter. Beth has been picky ever since she started school, and you don’t mind, you’ll accommodate and feel sorry that she misses out on Steve’s chicken pot pie, but there’s a difference between being picky and having a total aversion to food she used to enjoy. 

Avery tries to pretend she’s not watching. Steve doesn’t bother, frowning deeply despite the baby in the high chair beside him and Dove on his thigh, the two girls giggling about something. The rest of them have cheeks covered in cheese sauce and sticky lips, but your Beth…

Maybe it’s too much to have everyone watching, you think. 

“Okay. Okay, let’s leave it for later, yeah? Will you help mommy with something? Is that okay?” 

Beth nods emphatically. “Yes!” 

You help her down off of your lap and take her little hand. “We’ll be back in a minute.” 

Steve shakes his head, at a loss. “Sure,” he says, though his face says something different. What are we going to do? “Take your drink.”

You grab the glass if only to appease your worrier. 

You and Beth leave the kitchen and the living room to sit on the stairs. There isn’t much privacy to be made in the house, but this will do. You put her on the step above you to sit eye to eye, and you take her little hand, rubbing circles slowly into the soft palm of it. 

“Is there something mommy can get you?” you whisper. “Anything at all. Because you’re so big now, you know you need to keep yourself nice and strong with dinner. Yeah? You need to eat so you can have lots of energy. I know,” —you smile at her startled frown— “you said you’re not hungry, but it’s okay. We don’t have to eat all of something. Me and you could go have McDonald’s, or pizza! We could have something special. We could go get donuts. Anything you want, even if it’s only one bite.” 

“I don’t know, mom…” 

“Anything you want, baby. Even if we get there and you don’t want it anymore, or it’s not what you thought.” 

Bethie decides in whispers that she’d like McDonald’s ice cream. You could cry. You almost do when you con her into eating half of ‘your’ cheeseburger on the drive home, her little feet swinging in the footwell as she licks ketchup off of her fingers. 

You show Steve the wrapper when you get home proudly. 

“Good job, mom,” Steve says, reaching for you in the doorway. 

Bethie brandishes the cup tray of ice creams to her sisters in delight. They scramble in screeches to get there first. 

“Wren!” Bethie cheers, wiggling an ice cream at her baby sister where she lays in a bouncer. “Mom, can I feed Wren?” 

“Only the plain one, baby.”

“Yeah, I know. Wren, look! I have ice cream. You want ice cream?” 

“Little spoonfuls,” Avery says, reaching for her own ice cream, big sister instincts quelled by excitement. “Oh my gosh, there’s fudge.” 

Steve nudges your hip with his hand. “Hey, you okay?” 

“That was a bit scary.” 

“It’s just a bad day for her. She’s okay. Did you eat anything?” he asks, curling an arm behind your back. 

“No. I got you a strawberry-kiwi smoothie, though.” 

“Anything for yourself?” 

You shake your head. “I knew Beth would only eat if I was eating it, so I had a bite.” 

“You’re a genius,” he says, hugging you to his side. His shirt smells like detergent under your nose. “I kept your dinner in the oven. Only take a minute to heat back up.” 

“Did you eat yours?” 

He puts his lips to your cheek and doesn’t answer. 

“This is nice,” you murmur. 

“I know.” He rubs your back. You’ve never had to ask him to do it, he just grabs you up and sets about soothing an ache you don’t have. He’s always been like this. 

“I can’t believe I had to sweet talk my six year old into eating fast food,” you say, watching Beth over the curve of his shoulder. She swallows a spoonful of ice cream and crinkles her eyes at the cold. “I never could’ve imagined this.”

“Thank god. You never would’ve let me date you if you did.”

You laugh and angle your head up for a kiss. “That’s not true,” you murmur. 

He kisses you but seems more eager for a hug, hooking his arm higher up behind your back and cuddling you into his neck. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do,” he confesses, “but if you keep being that gentle? She’s going to be fine.” 

You brim with a weird pride. Steve knows intimately the kind of parent that you are, and how hard you try, so if he thinks you’re doing a good job, you must be. “Dinner was great,” you promise. 

Steve laughs. “I know. It was fucking bomb. Honey roasted broccoli? These kids don’t get how good I am. I could go pro.” 

Dove wanders over with clumsy footsteps but better pronunciation. “Smoothie, daddy,” she says, holding his pink smoothie up to him with an urgent look. 

“Oh, thank you.” He pats your arm and breaks away to bend down. “Thank you, gorgeous,” he says, taking the drink and smiling huge at her. She says something in garbled kid talk and leans in to give him a hug, and then she runs back to her ice cream. 

Steve looks at you adoringly. 

“How’d you give me four perfect girls?” he asks, knowing he’s cheesy, his smile turning teasing. 

“A lot of hard work.” 

“I can tell.” 

#kisses before dinner universe #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #afab!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fluff

[wineauntie]

ahhh how would Father’s Day be with single!mother x Quinn and evie?

FATHER’S DAY — Quinn Hughes x single!mom reader

summary: in which, Evie gets to celebrate her very first Father’s Day and Quinn gets to be at the centre of it.

note: thank you so much for this ask, lovely! more of these three because they have my heart <33

warnings: literally nothing major, just heartwarming fluff. Quinn being the best dad, use of y/n, y/n/n, nicknames like bug, darling and love.

word count: 2.5k+

Father's Day had always been a rocky territory for you and Evie, especially before you'd introduced her to Quinn. You remembered so clearly when she was two, that she had come home from kindergarten with a Father's Day card, telling you "daddy card, daddy card!" over and over again. You had to break it to her that there was no "daddy" to give that card to.

The topic of Evie's father wasn't one you liked to think about. You were childhood sweethearts and when you found out you were pregnant, he was the first one you'd told. You'd expected tears and perhaps a bit of uncertainty, the two of you had often discussed a life beyond what the two of you had and that included children and marriage. You'd rushed over to his house as soon as the test had shown positive, brandishing the stick in your hand when he'd opened the door. You hadn't really known what else to do...you were still relatively young and this pregnancy wasn't necessarily planned.

He'd dumped you on the spot.

Actually no...he'd told you to get rid of "it" and then he'd dumped you...all while dropping the nuclear bomb of knowledge that he'd been sleeping with your best friend.

You'd frozen, not even flinching when the door slammed in your face. You'd gone into autopilot making your way back home and once you'd entered the safety of the four walls, you'd finally broken down.

It was safe to say that Evie's biological father wasn't a topic you wished to dwell upon.

But then you'd met Quinn and all of a sudden, every single definition of a dad seemed to befit him– it was something Evie had noticed too.

So when Evie was four and calling Quinn "dad" more often than not, the celebrations of Father's Day now seemed more appealing.

"Mom, Mom!"

You turned around from your place at the counter as Evie bounded into the apartment, her backpack swinging on her shoulders as she rushed to hug your legs.

"Hey, baby," you hummed, wrapping your arms around her, and stroking her hair as she looked up at you. "How was school?"

"Mom, I have a secret," Evie whispered as much as she could, giggling as you tilted your head in wonder. Your daughter tucked herself into your side with a smile across her face while Quinn entered the kitchen behind Evie, his keys swinging from his fingers.

"I swear that pickup line gets bigger by the day," he sighed, but despite his exasperated words, the soft smile reserved for you and Evie remained steady on his face. He placed the keys in a ceramic bowl before bending down and poking Evie's cheek lightly. "I'll need to start bringing a bed and pyjamas with me at this rate."

"Dad, that's silly!" Evie giggled heartily as she practically fizzed in her spot. Quinn's smile widened as he ruffled her hair before moving upwards to come face to face with you.

"Hey," Quinn spoke again, his voice low as he pressed a kiss to your welcoming lips. You hummed in response, your hand resting on his cheeks as he kissed you.

"Ew! Mom, Dad, stop!" Evie squirmed and broke free from where she'd become trapped and basically ran away screaming, her hands thrown up into the air.

You and Quinn fell into a fit of laughter, breaking apart to watch Evie disappear into her room. He pressed another chaste kiss to your temple before he flicked the switch on the kettle. You tidied up your laptop, which you'd been working on before they arrived home, tucking it aside, before picking up Evie's dropped backpack. You brushed it off before carrying it towards her room.

"Evie, darling, you left your bag in the kitchen," you spoke gently pushing the door open.

"Mom, in, quick!" Evie rushed to say, grabbing your hand and pulling you into the room as she closed the door.

The excitement in Evie's eyes was contagious as she held up a handmade Father's Day card, a mischievous grin on her face.

"Look what I made!" she exclaimed, practically bursting with pride, waving the card around, allowing you to take it gently.

The front of the card was adorned with a drawing of what you presumed to be Evie and Quinn holding hands– the latter indicated by a scribbled "Winnie", as well as the fact, the man in the drawing held a hockey stick in his other hand. The two were surrounded by colourful scribbles of writing.

Evie looked at you in question, her eyes wide as she waited for your reaction. You smiled warmly, opening up the card to reveal the inside, in which Evie's scribbled handwriting tried its best to be neat.

"It's beautiful, sweetheart," your tone softened as you crouched down to face Evie, handing the card back to her.

"You like it?" Evie asked carefully, as if afraid of your reaction.

"I love it," you reassured her while your thumb caressed her cheekbone. "How about you and I plan the entire day for Quinn tomorrow? Make it nice and fun for him, hm?

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" Evie nodded rapidly as she pulled you towards the bed so you could scheme.

As you both sat on the edge of her bed, Evie began to share her plans for Father's Day through childish babbled, with you listening as intently as possible. The two of you huddled together, discussing the details of your surprise day for Quinn.

-

It was seven thirty in the morning when you felt a soft poke on your cheek. Allowing your eyes to flutter open, you lazily smiled as Evie silently urged you to get up before she "sneakily" crawled out of the room, her bare feet slapping against the floor of the hallway as she ran.

You rolled over to face Quinn, who had pulled you deep into his arms throughout the night, your nose gently brushing his before you carefully untangled yourself from him, tucking the blankets back over his sleeping figure before you crept out, following Evie.

Evie was practically fizzing in the living room as she clutched her card to her chest. You gently pressed a kiss to her forehead before placing a finger to your lips, signalling for her to keep quiet. Together, you and Evie tip-toed to the kitchen, where you both embarked on the mission of creating the perfect Father's Day breakfast for Quinn.

You'd been dating Quinn long enough to know he loved waffles. Not only was it his go-to cheat breakfast, but also his favourite meal to make for you and Evie. You and Evie got to work, following a recipe from an old cookbook you'd thrifted a few years ago, creating a waffle mixture. You'd tasked Evie with the important role of assistant chef, letting her stir and add a range of ingredients into the bowl.

Keeping a close eye on Evie, you moved away to heat an oiled pan to cook some bacon to go with the breakfast. You flicked on the radio, keeping the music at a lull, hoping to keep you and Evie's activities as secret as possible. Your daughter's tongue stuck out between her lips in concentration as she mixed, careful so as not to splash herself with the batter.

The scent of freshly brewing coffee began to fill the air as you worked side by side, flipping the bacon as Evie pushed the bowl aside. You watched from your peripherals as Evie opened the fridge and stood on her tiptoes to reach for the fruit you kept inside.

"Careful, love," you chided, scooping the bacon off of the pan and onto a plate before moving the pan from the hob. You turned and helped Evie gather the fruit and bring it towards the counter, where you chopped and sliced it up and put it all in bowls for Quinn.

"Mom! There's someone at the door," Evie whispered, her pyjama-clad arm pointed towards the entrance to the apartment in worry as a knock resounded.

"Perfect," you smiled, moving around Evie to get the door. You unlocked the door and peeked your head around the edge, to lay your eyes on a delivery man holding a bunch of neatly wrapped flowers. "Hello! Are those for me?"

"Ms. y/n?" The delivery man asked, glancing down at his clipboard.

"The very one!" You beamed, opening the door wider and taking the flowers that had been passed over to you. "Thank you!"

"No problem, have a nice morning," the delivery man nodded before he turned around, leaving you with the bunch of flowers. You closed the door quietly as you walked back towards the kitchen.

"Pretty, Mom!" Evie all but squealed before her hands clapped over her mouth at the volume. You chuckled and nodded in agreement as you set them down on the counter.

"They are, aren't they?"

-

Evie's excitement radiated as she carefully arranged the breakfast tray, making sure everything looked just right. The handmade card, now carefully positioned next to the wrapped flowers– you'd been surprised to learn that the florists had allowed you to order them last night for delivery this morning.

"Do you think Dad will love it?" Evie whispered, her eyes wide with anticipation as she surveyed the breakfast spread. The waffles were a golden brown with whipped cream and the bacon beside it with all the fruit bowls laid neatly on the tray.

"Absolutely, sweetheart," you assured her, sharing a conspiratorial smile. "Especially when he knows it's from you."

With the tray complete, you and Evie tip-toed back towards you and Quinn's shared room. The tray was clutched in your hands as Evie carefully clutched the bunch of flowers and her card.

Quinn stirred awake as the bedroom door creaked open. He opened a singular eye–which widened at the sight of his girls in the doorway.

"Good morning," he rasped, stretching up his arms as he sat against the headboard. His tired eyes glanced between you and Evie in wonder. "What's all this for?"

"Happy Father's Day!" Evie suddenly exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she jumped onto the bed beside Quinn, nestling into his side. Evie beamed with pride, holding up her handmade card and flowers for Quinn to see.

"W-what?" Quinn's voice cracked with emotion as he looked at Evie with softened eyes. His arm that had naturally fallen around Evie's shoulders had tightened around the girl.

"She wanted to surprise you," You spoke up, your weight shifting on your feet. The tray was getting heavier in your hands, but you tried to hide it so Evie could do this at her pace.

"I've never done today before," Evie muttered, her gaze falling to the bedsheets. "But you're my dad now." Quinn tilted his head to look down at her and you swore you saw the shimmer of tears brewing along his lower lashes.

"I'll let you in on a secret, bug," Quinn started, his soft voice so gentle and caring. "I've never had today done for me, and that means it's both our first time." Evie looked up to meet his eyes, her own wide and childlike.

"We're both babies at this," Evie said rather seriously, her head going lax against Quinn's shoulder. Her words caused Quinn to laugh and pull her closer to his side, his eyes flitting towards you.

"Oh, y/n/n, come put that down here," Quinn rushed to move and help you, but you merely pierced him with a gaze that threatened 'you stay where you are Quinn Hughes or I swear...' You placed the laden tray on his lap, perching on the bed by his feet.

"Oh, wow, look at all this!" Quinn exhaled with a smile. "This looks incredible!"

"Mom made it!" Evie burst, looking at you with a wide grin. "And I got to help make the batter and the fruits. She even let me sort the fruit into the bowls!"

"No way! That's my favourite part of the tray," Quinn remarked causing Evie to duck her head in embarrassment. He looked up towards you and pushed into the centre of the bed, moving carefully to not spill anything as he gestured for you to join his free side.

You were more than willing to sink into the warmth of his side of the bed as he pulled you into a short, but loving kiss. Your hand brushed through his mussed hair, as you pulled away and curled up beside him.

"Thank you for the breakfast," Quinn murmured as he nuzzled his nose against the side of your face.

"I had the best helper," you smiled, looking towards Evie who was sneaking a raspberry from a fruit bowl.  Quinn followed your gaze and once more, his gaze melted completely.

"So, bug," Quinn started, "what are those in your hands?"

"Oh!" Evie bounced onto her knees, picking up the flowers that she had placed half-mindedly on the bed in front of her and holding out the card for him to take. "These are for you!"

Quinn smiled and took both items from Evie. He emitted an indescribable noise as he saw the front of the card and the inside message. His lip jutted out as he buried his head into Evie's hair, his face smothered as she giggled.

"That's me, that's you, and that's your hockey stick" Evie pointed out matter of factly, as Quinn glanced up. This time he couldn't hide his watery eyes as he listened to Evie explain his card, his free hand found yours and squeezed gently, his head resting atop Evie's. "And I wrote inside all myself!"

"I love it, bug," Quinn croaked, wiping his eye briefly as he pulled her into a side hug. "I'm gonna put it on the mantlepiece so everyone can see."

Evie bashfully smiled and wrapped her small arms around Quinn as much as she could. She'd once again forgotten all about the flowers which Quinn had swiped at the last moment to save them from being squished.

"These are very nice," Quinn commented, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks. "Don't think I've ever gotten flowers before."

"There's a first for everything it seems," you hummed softly, resting your head on his shoulder quite like Evie was doing on his opposite side. Quinn pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head before placing the flowers carefully at the end of Evie's legs.

"Yeah...there is," Quinn mumbled, "thank you...both of you," you and Evie both found yourselves nodding, the smell of food in front of you now growing more and more intense. "I might need both of your help with this breakfast, though."

Evie didn't need any other prompting before she grabbed at an entire bowl of fruit and started scoffing it down like a girl starved– which you knew she wasn't considering you'd already fed her plenty of waffles before you'd entered.

As you sat down and listened to Evie, who was telling Quinn all about the day ahead through a full mouth, you marvelled at how this Father's Day had transformed into a celebration you cherished, a far cry from the painful memories of the past.

Together, as a family, you were creating a different kind of story to the one your past had tried to force you to live—one filled with laughter, warmth, and the genuine bond between you, your daughter, and the man she proudly called "Dad."

more single mom!reader x quinn is coming I swearrrr!

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