#but i am over here. kicking my legs in bed every five seconds | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewintersoldierdisaster · 1 year

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a/n: more svech! just straight up fluff happening here. i loved writing this one so much! i was going to save this for svech’s birthday on sunday but i’m an adhd bitch and couldn’t wait lol so now we’re celebrating the canes clinching a playoff spot. (also fully exposing my mister svechnikov kink by adding it into every fic sorry not sorry)

word count: 7.2k (i am INCAPABLE of not blathering on about svech apparently)

tw: like super mild childbirth and more google-translate russian

summary: you and andrei welcome your first baby

“I don’t know,” Andrei’s hand is splayed flat over your stomach while he lies in bed next to you, “maybe I should talk to Rod. See if I can stay home until the baby’s here.” The baby rolls and kicks at his hand and Andrei’s lips turn up into a soft smile. His eyes are still a little cloudy and conflicted though.

You stretch out your legs, trying to ease the pain in your hip from having to lay on your side. “You’re only going to Nashville. It’s not far and I’m due in a week and a half. Plenty of time for you to get there and back without having to let your boys down.”

Andrei starts to protest, but you shake your head. “I know you don’t want to miss any games so close to the playoffs, Drei. And I also know that you’re not going to miss baby being born. We can do it all.”

He rubs at your stomach again, looking deep in thought. “Nashville is two days. To get there, to play, and to come back - more like three. What if you go into labor during the game?”

“Then,” you yawn, “I’ll have someone pull you off the ice and you can come straight to the hospital. Labor takes hours. Honestly, Drei, you’re not going to miss it.”

You know he wants to be there for you and for the team, especially coming down the home stretch of the regular season when the Canes are holding onto first in the Metro. You love that he’s so dedicated to his team and honestly, the thought of him sitting around and staring at you, waiting for you to pop, isn’t that relaxing. He’s attentive, but sometimes you need a bit of space.

Andrei rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. He huffs a sigh before rolling back onto his side to look at you. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you reassure him. “Plus all four of our parents are going to be here in a couple of days. There’s no shortage of people who can get me to a hospital and call you, if we need it.”

He looks a little more reassured now, remembering that his parents are flying in on Tuesday, just hours after he flies out to Nashville. Your parents are only a forty-five minute drive away, so the second labor starts, if Andrei isn’t around, you can call them. You kick the blankets off your legs, too hot and uncomfortable in the unseasonably warm early spring weather. All you want to do is lie on your stomach and stretch out, but thanks to the giant belly bump, that’s a no-go. You’ve always been aware that Andrei was big and tall, but you hadn’t really thought about it until your baby was all squished up in your stomach, your skin stretched uncomfortably. It really does feel like you’re snuggling a watermelon around, and especially now that the baby’s dropped in the last few days, you’re really feeling uncomfortable.

Andrei’s hand rubs soft circles over the peak of your stomach, tapping the spots that the baby kicks in a little game. He props his head up on his palm and traces his fingers over your skin. “I can’t believe he’ll be here in a week,” he says.

“Or she,” you counter cheekily. “But yeah, it’s feeling a little scary now.”

The nursery’s been done for about two weeks now - painted and decorated around Andrei’s travel schedule. You have your hospital bag packed and ready in the front hall closet. The freezer is stocked full of meals your mom had made and delivered last week. All that’s left now is to wait for baby to make their appearance.

You shift on the bed, your lower back sore and stiff. “Drei…” you pout, “will you rub my back?” You blink wide eyes up at him and he smiles, needing no extra begging or encouragement to help you into a sitting position.

He opens his legs and settles you in between them, warm, large hands coming to rest on your lower back. “Here, solnyshka?” He asks, thumbs already digging into the stiff muscles. You hum an affirmative response, leaning forward as much as your stomach will allow and enjoying the pleasant stretch of your back. His hands work out the knots smoothly and you melt, finally getting a little relief.

“I can’t wait to finally not have to carry around this watermelon,” you sigh, hands cradling your stomach.

Andrei’s hands work up your back to your shoulders, “I can’t wait to hold the baby all the time, to make up for the nine months you did all the work.” He kisses behind your ear and digs his thumb into a particularly painful knot by your shoulder blade.

“Oh,” you gasp, going limp as the muscle releases. You sag back against his chest, trapping Andrei’s hands in between your bodies. “That felt so good. Forget hockey, become my personal masseuse.”

“Isn’t that already my side job?” He teases, fingers fluttering against your back where they’re stuck. You shift a little and he pulls his arms out and immediately rests them on the underside of your stomach, lifting gently so some of the pressure is off your pelvis.

A strangled noise of contentment escapes your throat and you lean further back against him. “Full time, I need back massages and bump lifting full time, Drei.”

“Whatever you want, solnyshka,” he tucks your head under his chin and sits still so you can relax. He’s so warm and solid you find your eyes closing, finally in a comfortable enough position to sleep a little.

A sharp jab to your bladder - a little foot or elbow, most likely - startles you awake with a wince. You shift, Andrei’s arms still encircling your body. He’s snoring softly in your ear and you realize that he fell asleep too, holding you against his chest. His head is tilted back against the headboard and it can’t be comfortable, but he’s out like a light, even when you wiggle a little to try and get off the bed. The need to use the bathroom is urgent.

“Mmm, solnyshka?” He mumbles, waking up a bit when you gently push his arms off of you.

“Go back to sleep,” you whisper into the dark. “I just have to pee.”

Andrei hums another response, but swings his legs off the bed and steadies you with a hand on your lower back and the other on your hip. His eyes are shut the entire time and he’s snoring again by the time you’re halfway to the bathroom. His legs are still dangling off the bed and you shake your head a little. Once you finish in the bathroom, you take a minute to look in the mirror, turning to the side and smoothing your shirt over your stomach. In a week or less, this bump is going to be a baby in your arms. You can’t wait to meet it, to see which of your features or Andrei’s are stronger.

“Just wait until Daddy is home, okay, baby?” You whisper, rubbing your palm over a spot low on you stomach where the baby’s jabbed a limb. “That better be a yes, mom, whatever you say.”

Andrei’s still half hanging off the bed when you waddle - god, you’re sick of the waddling! - back into the bedroom. He’s exhausted, between the travel, the actual playing, and being there for you, no matter what you need. You wish there were a way to let him keep sleeping while putting him back on the bed properly, but there really isn’t, so you carefully crawl back onto your side of the bed and situate yourself with the giant body pillows wrapped around your body and then reach out to nudge Andrei’s shoulder.

“Hey,” you whisper, “Drei, baby, get back into bed.”

He startles, blinking into the dark, and rubs a hand over his face. “Huh?” He looks around and seems to realize that his feet are on the floor while his upper body is in bed. “Oh,” he mutters, pulling his legs back up on the bed and under the covers. He reaches for you, still clearly half-asleep, and you let him pull you closer. The body pillow is entirely in the way and Andrei grumbles. “I hate this pillow,” he mutters, doing his best to wrap his body around yours.

“Just a little bit longer,” you mumble, fully knowing that you may never sleep without the body pillow again. It’s just so damn comfortable.

You wish you could sleep in the next morning, but even though Andrei is doing his best to be quiet while he gets ready, the baby is apparently dealing with hiccups. It’s like a little alien in your stomach and it’s both weirdly endearing and also freaking you out a little. You’re awake by 7:30, but you just stay in bed, smoothing your hand over your stomach, watching the way it jumps around.

“So freaky,” you mutter. Eventually Andrei wanders back into your room, holding a protein shake and already a little sweaty.

“Morning, milaya,” he drops a kiss on your lips and you squint at him.

“Did you already fit in a workout?”

He ruffles the hair on the back of his head, a little sheepish, “yeah. I woke up early. Ah, I’m getting a little nervous.” He sits down on the edge of the bed and you reach out for his hand. You stroke your thumb over the ridges of his knuckles. He squeezes your fingers gently.

“I’m nervous too,” you admit. “But we’re the ultimate team, right? I don’t know what I’m doing and you don’t either. But we’ll learn together.”

Andrei lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the underside of your wrist. He rests his cheek against the back of your hand and you wiggle your fingers against his stubble, smiling slightly.

“You’re going to be the best dad,” you say, one-hundred percent confident in your statement.

He chews on his lower lip, absorbing your words, and nods. “If I’m half as good of a dad as you will be a mom, then I think the baby will be okay,” he says, leaning in to kiss you again. You sigh into his mouth.

“Glad we’re all on the same page,” you joke. “Now please help me up because I really can’t do it on my own anymore.”

Andrei obliges, pulling you to your feet and watching attentively as you go slowly about your morning routine. You shoo him out of the room after fifteen minutes, starting to get agitated with his hovering. “Drei, please, I’m fine. Just go shower and get ready to go to your skate,” you sigh, twisting your hair into a pair of messy braids and pinning them up into a milkmaid style so it’s off your neck.

“Okay, sorry, milaya,” he kisses the nape of your neck and ducks into the shower, leaving you time to change into a different lounge set and head for the kitchen. Nothing sounds appealing to you, mild nausea making your stomach roll. You settle for popping a slice of bread into the toaster and grabbing an avocado. You lean your elbow on the counter and prop your chin in the palm of your hand, yawning while you wait for your toast. Sleep quality really had declined the last few weeks.

Andrei’s back in the kitchen as you’re eating the avocado straight from its peel. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow and lips twitching in an effort to hide his amusement. You wrinkle your nose at him. “I didn’t want the toast,” you explain, gesturing at the butter smeared bread with your spoon. “You can have it, if you want.”

He snags the toast with two fingers and kisses the side of your head. “Spasibo. I’ll text you when I’m leaving the rink, if you need anything, okay?” He asks around a mouthful of bread.

You nod, “be careful. Love you.”

After he leaves, you tidy the kitchen and the living room, even though neither are all that dirty. You just mostly want to keep moving a bit - once you sit down, you’re basically not getting up for God or country.

By the time Andrei gets home for his pre-game nap and meal, he finds you curled up on the couch, sobbing at an episode of Bones. He’s immediately kneeling on the floor in front of you, running his hands over you thighs, “hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”

“We’re fine,” you wave him off with a sniffle. “It’s just…Bones and Booth danced around their relationship for so long! And I forgot how unsatisfying it was when they finally got together.”

Andrei looks at you like you’re crazy before schooling his features into a more neutral expression. He sucks his upper lip in between his teeth, clearly trying not to laugh. He rubs at your knee soothingly, “how about you come nap with me? Take a break from the TV.”

You nod, rubbing at your damp eyes like an overtired toddler. The hormones are fluctuating wildly today. Andrei gently helps you get to your feel and trails after you to the bedroom. “How was morning skate?” You ask, climbing into bed. Andrei wraps his body around yours, the big spoon to your little, and buries his face in your hair.

“Good, it was nice to get a little energy flowing before the game,” he mumbles into your hair. His arms are a secure cocoon of warmth around you and the baby kicks where his palm is splayed flat over the side of your stomach. “Hello to you too, little one,” he says a little louder.

You snuggle into his embrace and fall asleep easily, the hour long nap passing faster than you had thought. Andrei gets up and starts getting dressed, while you watch. He’s in game mode now, more serious than before, more in his head. You know he’s thinking about the plays that were surely drawn up during morning skate. He steps into his suit pants - a new plaid number that is a mild assault on the eyes, but he’s so damn handsome he makes it work - and does a little hop in place when he does up the button and fly. You’re blatantly ogling him when he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into the hamper.

“Creep,” he teases you, catching you looking.

“Don’t be so handsome then,” you shoot back, pointedly rubbing your stomach.

His smile turns a little feral and his eyes darken. “You look good like that, pregnant with my baby,” his voice is low and you press your thighs together.

You shake your finger at him, “no way, keep it in your pants, Mister Svechnikov, that’s how we ended up here in the first place.”

He laughs, eyes twinkling and dimple popping, finishing buttoning up his shirt. “I didn’t hear any complaints,” he says casually.

“Give it a week or so and I’m sure you’ll be hearing a few complaints,” you wince at a particularly strong kick lands somewhere in the vicinity of your ribs. “I know it’s cramped in there, but easy on the ribs,” you murmur to your stomach.

Andrei finishes getting ready, eats a quick meal, and is back on the road. He’ll be at the arena nearly three hours before the game, but you know it’s part of his routine. Besides, Brady likes to get there early too, so you know he won’t be alone. More likely, Brady will be alone while Andrei handles the puck by the boards before people start coming.

You send Andrei your usual pre-game text and make yourself a light dinner. The TV gets switched to the pre-game and you settle on the couch with your book and laptop. Your mom checks in with you, FaceTiming for a bit, and Elena is texting too, confusing you a little with the time difference, but she’s so excited to get into town tomorrow. The WAG group chat is buzzing too - asking how you are and sending pictures of the kids at the game. You doze off during the game, but wake up to a winning score for the Canes mid-way through the third. The score holds and Andrei comes home bouncy and full of energy.

“Four game point streak!” You grin, cheering for him as he comes into the house.

Andrei blushes and waves you off. “Team effort,” is all he says, even though he was a driving force on the ice. He drops to his knees next to the couch and rubs your stomach. “How’s baby?”

“Kicking away,” you card your fingers through Andrei’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He leans into your touch like a cat. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to kick her way out, like in Alien.”

“Gross,” Andrei pulls a face and then ducks closer to your stomach, whispering to the bump. And in Russian too, so even though you can hear him, you can’t understand him.

You nudge his shoulder with a foot. “Secrets, secrets are no fun, unless you share them with everyone,” you tease.

He shakes his head, “it’s between a father and his child.”

“Rude,” you roll your eyes affectionately, pouting a bit. “Take me to bed, Mister Svechnikov, it’s past my bedtime and growing your child is making me sleepy.”

“Whatever you want, Mrs. Svechnikova,” he grins.

All of his post-game excitement is worn off by the next morning and he’s back to worrying about missing the baby’s birth. “Please, Drei, go to Nashville,” you sigh, rubbing at your lower back. “You’ll be back Thursday afternoon. Your mom and dad are coming in this afternoon. There’s nothing happening.”

“I just don’t want to miss anything,” he protests. His phone is on the counter and his fingers twitch, like he’s going to snatch it up and text Rod any second. You bat the phone away from him and scowl.

“Go to the game, Andrei,” you say firmly. “If anything happens, and it won’t, I’ll make sure someone gets the message to you and gets you on a plane back here, okay?”

“Okay,” he sighs, clearly wanting to argue with you more, but catches sight of the look on your face and wisely shuts his mouth. Eventually, he’s all packed up and is kissing you good-bye so he can head to the airport. “I love you, milaya,” he says against your temple.

“I love you, too,” you whisper, starting to feel a little emotional. Damn hormones. “I’m sorry I keep snapping at you.”

He chuckles a bit. “It’s okay, you’re allowed. I’ll see you in two days, okay?” His hands come up to cradle your belly. “Keep mama company, okay little one?”

You sniffle and laugh a little wetly. “I’ve got a foot wedged in my ribs, I’m never alone,” you joke.

With one more kiss, Andrei is off and you’re alone. It’s not like this is the first time he’s been gone during the last nine months, and there have been periods where he was gone even longer than two days, but maybe it’s because you’re so close to your due date that you’re feeling extra emotional.

To distract yourself, you make sharlotka - an apple cake from a recipe Elena sent you a few weeks ago when your main craving had been apples dipped in honey. She and Igor are already en route to Raleigh and you invited them over for dinner when they land, mostly to keep you company so you don’t go crazy.

Andrei’s in Nashville and has texted you about fifteen times by the time his parents Uber to your place. You click over onto FaceTime and grin at him, “you can relax, my love. The calvary is here.” You turn the camera and his parents wave at him.

“We will take good care of her, Andreyusha,” Elena blows him a kiss.

“But we will not save you any cake,” Igor teases, holding up his plate, having immediately beelined for the dessert.

Andrei looks a little put out about the cake, but relieved that you’re not alone. “I thought you were going to relax?”

“A girl has to eat,” you tease. “We’re good here, focus on the game and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Elena and Igor end up staying in the guest room, exhausted from the travel, and you reap the rewards when you wake up to a full breakfast spread. “I couldn’t sleep,” Elena shrugs, her smile just like Andrei’s. “Besides, I needed to make sure my doch and grandbaby are well-fed.”

She pats your cheek and sets a plate full of eggs, toast, fruit, and bacon in front of you. You blink at the amount of food, knowing you’re definitely not going to be able to eat it all, but thank her effusively.

“I didn’t even think we had bacon or all this fruit in the house,” you comment, nibbling at a corner of the toast.

“You didn’t,” Elena laughs. “I went to the grocery store.”

“Oh, gosh! Elena, you didn’t have to do that,” you say. “You’re supposed to be on vacation.”

She waves you off, bracelets clinking together on her wrist. “This is vacation. With family, waiting for the baby? My girl, this is exactly what I want to do.”

“Oh, okay,” you slump back in the chair, trying to stretch your back. “If you’re sure…”

“I am sure, now eat some eggs. The calcium is good for growing the baby.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you jokingly salute and dig into the eggs. They’re actually really good - soft and creamy and definitely hitting the spot. You’re finishing breakfast when Igor comes through the front door. You do a double-take - you thought he had been upstairs this whole time.

“Can’t have breakfast without pastries,” he winks at you, setting a bakery bag on the counter. His mischievous smile is just like Andrei’s. Elena pulls out a box stuffed full of croissants, muffins, turnovers, and doughnuts.

“Oh, wow,” you grin, reaching for a chocolate croissant. “A girl could definitely get used to this treatment.”

After breakfast, you try to help clean up but are forced back down into the chair. They ask if you and Andrei have picked a name and that’s a big fat no. Neither one of you can agree on a name you like. You have a little idea forming in the back of your head, but you don’t want to say anything to Andrei until the baby’s born.

It’s a beautiful April day in Raleigh, so Elena hustles you all outside for a walk in the fresh air. It’s slow going since you’re hauling around the giant baby bump, but the fresh air feels good and the walk is helping the stiffness in your lower back. You assume the stereotypical pregnant woman pose, with your hands bracing at your lower back while you walk.

A little cramp ripples over your stomach and you wince, pressing your fingers into the spot. You wait, but it doesn’t happen again, so you figure it was probably breakfast settling. But you’re on alert for the rest of the day, just in case. The only thing still bothering you at dinner time is your lower back, but that’s been sore and stiff for two weeks now, so you assume it’s just from the weight of carrying the baby.

At least, that’s what you assume until it’s thirty minutes to puck drop and you feel a slight popping sensation between your legs, accompanied by a trickle of liquid.

You stand stock still for a beat and then mutter, “oh, shit. Andrei’s going to kill me.”

Elena looks up from her book and frowns at you, “what’s going on?”

“I, ah, think my water broke,” you grip the countertop tightly. Liquid continues to drip down your thighs and there’s a little cramp like the one you felt earlier. “Oh, yeah, definitely my water breaking.”

Andrei’s parents jump up from their spots on the couch and from there it’s a flurry of action. You call your mom and she has your dad in the car before you can even get a word in beyond “hey, mom, I’m in labor.” They’ll be at your place within the hour.

A stronger cramp grips your stomach and now you realize that you’ve been feeling contractions for the last day or so. Andrei’s going to be so annoyed that you made him go to Nashville. Warm-ups have started and you know that Andrei’s unreachable by phone for the foreseeable future. You still text him anyway (“hi sorry i said nothing was gonna happen but i’m in labor 😅😬”) and when another contraction hits fifteen minutes after the last one, you figure it’s about time to head to the hospital.

While Igor drives, you text Heather Staal, wondering if she can get ahold of Jordan or Rod to let Andrei know before he gets on the ice. She promises to try and get the message across, reassuring you that you’ll be fine and Andrei won’t miss a thing. You really hope she’s right, because you’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.

You settle a bit once you get admitted and changed into the flimsy hospital gown. Your parents get to the hospital just a few minutes after you do and your mom immediately joins Elena in your room, making sure you have everything you need.

Right now, you just really need Andrei.

Your dad and Igor are in the waiting room watching, ironically, the Canes game. They pop back into the room every few minutes to offer an update.

“He’s still on the bench.”

“Took a shift, had an assist on a Brady goal.”

“Still on the ice.”

“First intermission and he’s going back to the room. No one looks like they’ve told him anything.”

You huff through increasing contractions while they update you, getting irritated.

“Start of the second, oh, he’s still on the bench.”

“What the fuck,” you mutter, grabbing your phone and texting Heather again. She’s sympathetic, but had texted Rod and wasn’t sure what was happening. You’re halfway ready to call Bridgestone’s main line and start screaming.

Your dad skids into the room while you’re gripping your mom’s hand through a contraction. “He’s off the ice! Looks like one of the assistant coaches told Rod something and then Andrei was yanked off the bench.”

You start crying, relieved that Andrei is finally going to be on his way.

Not even fifteen minutes later, he FaceTimes you.

“I’m on my way, solnyshka, I’ll be there soon,” the words burst out of his mouth. He’s half dressed, shirt buttoned all wrong and sweaty hair mussed over his forehead. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay, it hurts, obviously, but I’m okay. Just get here in one piece, okay? I’m so sorry I made you go to the game,” you wipe at the tears on your face, pressing your lips together to smother a shout as another contraction hits.

Andrei’s face is pale on your phone’s screen. “It’s not your fault. I’m on my way now, just hold on for a little bit.” He tells you he loves you and hangs up as he runs out of the locker room.

While you suffer through the contractions, Andrei texts you with updates. He’s booked on a flight out of Nashville that doesn’t leave until 10 and he’s clearly annoyed about it - there’s not a single emoji in his messages. You try not to freak out that he’s going to miss anything. At your last check, you were only 3 centimeters dilated, so there’s still hours of labor ahead of you. You pace the hallways, holding the IV pole keeping you hydrated, with your mom and Elena at your back for support. When you walk past a TV, it’s turned to the post-game and Rod is fielding a question about Andrei’s abrupt departure during the second.

Rod smiles on screen, “well, I’ll tell you it wasn’t for anything bad. His wife’s in labor back home, so as soon as we heard that, Svechy took off. Don’t think any of us could’ve stopped him even if we wanted to. We’re wishing the both of them the best of luck and can’t wait to hear about the newest member of the Caniac family. Next question?”

You start crying again, overly tired and overly emotional. You just want Andrei.

The epidural is administered around 11:30 and you doze off for a bit, waking up confused when a particularly bad contraction hits. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to feel anything?” You whine, gripping the rails of the bed.

The nurse hums at you sympathetically, “they’re not totally 100% effective, hon.”

You glare at her, but she’s clearly used to worse, because it doesn’t phase her at all. She just continues taking your vitals and making her notes.

Once the contraction passes, you ask, “have you seen my parents and in-laws?”

“I think the dads left, saying something about the airport, and the moms are in the coffee shop downstairs,” she pats your hand. “Sounds like you might be getting your husband here soon.”

And you do.

Thankfully, Andrei’s flight was right on time and smooth, so he landed in Raleigh at midnight and with your dad breaking speed limits, is at the hospital and by your side before 1:30. He skids into the room, looking frazzled. “I’m sorry, mne zhal, I’m so sorry, my love,” he babbles, stopping at your side and stroking your hair off your forehead before leaning down to kiss you. “I’m here. I didn’t know, they didn’t tell me until the second…”

The tears flow easily and you grip Andrei’s hand like never before. “I don’t care, I’m just glad you’re here now,” you break off into a shout and curl up when the contraction hits. Stupid fucking epidural.

He keeps hold of your hand and strokes your hair, murmuring in Russian. With his other hand, he rakes his hair off his face. Once you let go, he takes off his suit jacket, tossing it on the spare chair, and rolls up the sleeves of his button down. “How long, do the doctors say?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Last check, I was like 6 or 7 centimeters.”

All four of your parents are hovering at the doorway and you wave them in with a sigh. Elena hands Andrei a coffee and a sandwich, kissing his cheek when he leans down. “Eat up, you are going to have a long night,” she says, smiling and barely hiding her excitement.

“Spasibo, mama,” he sighs, taking a long drink of coffee. Half the cup is gone and you watch him enviously. Your mom sets another cup down on the little railing tray table.

“That’ll be cold before you get to it,” she says, “but I’m sure you’ll need it.”

Andrei thanks her too and thanks the dads for getting him to the hospital so quickly. They both shrug him off, also barely concealing their excitement. Andrei laughs, “now, I think we’d like a little privacy?” He looks over at you and you nod tiredly. The four parents are kind of a lot to deal with all at once. He grabs the tangle of keys from his pocket and passes them to his dad. “Can you bring me a change of clothes and my car?”

Of course, Igor agrees and all four parents follow him from the room, debating on who will go and which cars they’re going to switch around. You honestly don’t care what they do, just that they leave.

Once they’re all gone, Andrei sucks in a deep breath and sits on the edge of the bed. “Okay, just us now,” he says, sounding a little dazed.

“Just us and the kid,” you reply, exhausted.

“Just us and the kid,” he repeats, smiling slightly. “The timing on this kid,” he shakes his head.

“I know,” you laugh. “I really didn’t think anything was going to happen.”

“It’s all happening now though,” Andrei holds your hand, barely flinching when you squeeze.

Your labor stalls briefly and then it’s nearly 3 a.m. and you’re pushing. Andrei’s at your side, holding one of your legs up by the thigh. He has the other arm wrapped around your shoulders and you’re nearly bent in half. The doctor counts down from ten and then you’re allowed to slump back against the pillows for a few seconds of a break.

“It hurts,” you sob, grasping for Andrei’s hands. He wipes at your tears.

“I know, I know, but you’re doing so good,” he croons. “You’re doing so good and we’ll have a baby soon.”

You’re instructed to push again and Andrei cheers you on, murmuring encouragement in your ear. You shriek, your entire body too hot and too tight and then there’s a release and a different cry.

“Oh,” you drop back against the pillows, suddenly empty.

Andrei looks down at you in shock and then at the baby that’s held in the doctor’s hands, bloody and screaming. He laughs and kisses you deeply, “it’s a girl! A little girl, moya koroleva. You did it.” He bounces on the balls of his feet, vibrating with excitement.

“A girl?” You cry, laughing with joy when the baby’s held up and placed on your chest. “Oh my god, it’s a girl.” Your hands wrap around the baby instinctively, cradling her little head, sobbing as you look at her features.

Andrei’s crying too, his eyes red. He wipes the back of his wrist under his nose and presses her forehead against your temple. “She’s beautiful. Just like her mama.” His voice is hoarse and tears are dripping onto your bare shoulder.

“Drei,” you whisper, full of emotion, and he gets it, kissing you deeply.

“I am so proud of you, my love. My two girls. My best girls,” he laughs, disbelieving. He settles one hand on the baby’s back and she looks impossibly small under his touch.

Time seems to blur from there and you’re allowed to keep the baby on your chest while the nurses run their tests. You hear snippets - she’s 6 pounds, thirteen ounces, twenty-one inches long - but otherwise you have tunnel vision on the gorgeous little baby that’s all yours and Andrei’s. Andrei gets her for skin-to-skin time while they clean you up and you sob again, watching him cradle her on one forearm. He looks up at you, hair flopping over his forehead, exhausted dark circles under his eyes, and beams at you, full dimple and missing tooth showing.

“I love you,” he mouths and then he looks back down at the baby, his expression soft and awed.

Before you know it, you’ve managed to feed the baby and get in a little nap in your private room. Andrei’s stretched out on the little couch, feet dangling over the edge. He hasn’t changed, even though his dad brought back clothes hours ago, so he’s still in his suit pants and dress shoes, button down shirt half-buttoned. He’s dozing too, getting in a nap since he’s been awake for over 24 hours at this point. At some point you know the four parents are going to be bursting down the door to meet her, but for now, they’re respectfully staying at your house until you call to give the okay to come by. It’s nice that they’re letting you and Andrei have time to bond with her, although from the amount of crying when Andrei had called to tell them it was a girl, you don’t think they’ll be able to hold off too much longer.

The nurse brings in the baby in her little plastic bassinet, cheerfully transferring her to your arms so you can feed her again. “Does she have a name?” the nurse asks, getting you all situated. It’s the second time you’ve been asked about her name, but you haven’t had a chance to run your idea by Andrei.

Before you can answer, Andrei’s voice cuts in. “Yeah,” he yawns, “does she have a name?”

You laugh, “no, not yet. But I did have an idea.”

Andrei looks at you expectantly, but you wait until the nurse leaves to speak. Without looking at him, you trace your finger over the slope of the baby’s nose - your nose - and it twitches, like a little rabbit. Andrei smiles at the sight.

“A little zaychik,” he says, watching her nose twitch again while she sucks at your nipple. “What name did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking,” you start, looking up at him, “she needs a name that means something to us. I’d like to name her after someone that means a lot to us too. A name that can inspire her and well, what do you think of Evgenia? Evie for short.”

Andrei’s face freezes and his hand is still against the bottom of the baby’s foot where he’s been stroking with his index finger. He coughs, swallows. “For Geno?”

“Yeah,” you confirm, “since he’s your best friend. I thought it might be nice to honor him.”

Andrei’s eyes well up and he runs the back of his wrist under his nose again while nodding. “I…yeah, solnyshka, yeah. I like that. I think he’ll like it too.” He sniffles and kisses your forehead. Looking down at the baby, he strokes her little hand where it rests on the swell of your breast. “What do you think, Evgenia? Are you an Evie?”

Evie’s little nose twitches again and you press your lips together to muffle a little cry. Seems like that’s settled.

“Evie,” you murmur, heart bursting with love. “She’s going to be the best adventure, huh?”

“We’ll definitely have a good story to tell her about her birth,” he laughs a little wetly, taking her from your arms when she’s done eating. He burps her the way the nurse showed him earlier, looking like a natural. Evie sighs and settles, falling asleep in his arms, her little lips pursed in a pout.

While she’s sleeping, Andrei pulls his phone from his pocket and FaceTimes Geno, clicking the volume lower so his brother’s shouted greeting of excitement doesn’t wake the baby. It’s well after breakfast in San Jose and Geno is outside, sun shining brightly behind him.

“Well? My baby brother has a baby?” Geno grins. “Mama called, but wouldn’t tell me if it’s a boy or a girl or the name. Said you two wanted to share that news. Although you didn’t have a name picked when she called.”

Andrei settles on the mattress next to you and you wave at Geno, a tired smile on your face. “That’s because we just picked it like ten minutes ago,” you laugh.

“You look good, mladshaya sestra,” Geno says warmly. “Now don’t keep me waiting. Uncle Geno’s dying to hear.”

Andrei angles his phone down so Evie’s face fills the screen and you can hear Geno’s exclamation of excitement. “Meet your niece, Evgenia Svechnikova. Evie for short.”

Geno’s speechless for a moment and then he starts rambling in Russian, his voice hoarse and clearly emotional. Andrei’s crying again and then you’re crying and the only one not crying is the actual hours-old baby.

“Evie,” Geno repeats. “She’s beautiful.” He pauses and then jokes, “clearly takes after her namesake.”

Andrei shifts the phone back up so it’s just the adults on screen and you can see Geno wiping at his eyes. You lean your head against Andrei’s shoulder.

“I love you guys,” Geno says.

“We love you too, Uncle Geno,” you reply.

“I’m hanging up before you make me cry again,” he laughs, waving and ending the call. Andrei chuckles and sets his phone down on the mattress near his leg.

“That went well,” he deadpans, a smile playing at his lips.

“I can’t wait to tell your parents her name,” you smirk. “I don’t think there’s enough tissues in the greater-Raleigh area for the flood that’s gonna come out of your mom.”

Andrei looks down at Evie, “are you ready to meet your babushki and dedushki, zaychik?”

Evie continues to sleep soundly, her little face twitching as she dreams.

“I think the question is if we’re ready for the babushki and dedushki,” you tease, holding onto Andrei’s bicep with one hand and tracing the shell of Evie’s ear with the other. She’s just so perfect, you could stare at her forever.

The grandparents are invited to come by after dinner, after you’ve sent Andrei home to shower and eat a real meal. The nurses take Evie to the nursery and you get a solid chunk of sleep. Andrei’s back before you know it, holding a takeout bag in one hand and a little shopping bag in the other.

“What’s that?” You sit up, curious, and set aside your phone. It’s been blowing up with congratulations from your family members and the team.

He sets the takeout bag in front of you, “sushi, as requested.”

You moan happily, “oh thank God, I’ve been craving a spicy tuna roll.” You dig into the food while Andrei sets the other bag on the mattress. He looks a little embarrassed, ears pink, so you wait for him to share.

“I passed by that boutique you like,” he says, pulling out a tissue paper wrapped bundle. “And saw this.” He unwraps it and a little beige onesie spills out, softly ribbed fabric extending up into a hood with a pair of floppy bunny ears attached.

“Oh!” You gasp, all thoughts of sushi forgotten as you take the little outfit. “Drei!” You start crying again. “It’s so cute!”

“Evie needs to be dressed in her finest to meet the grandparents,” he laughs.

“Dressed as a little baby bunny,” you cry, wiping at your face. “Dammit, these hormones are killing me. Ugh, Drei, I love this. I love it and I love you and I love her and I…” You break off into a choking little sob-laugh. “I can’t believe she’s ours.”

He wraps you up in a hug and you cry into his shoulder - he smells like laundry detergent and home. “I can’t either,” he agrees, exhaling in disbelief. Yesterday you were a duo and now you’re a trio.

Andrei pulls back from the hug and looks down at you, eyes twinkling. “Should I go get the little zaychik? Get her all presentable for the grandparents?”

When he brings her back, Evie’s dressed in the little bunny onesie, waving her hands in the air and you promptly start sobbing again. Andrei patiently rubs your back while you blubber about how adorable she is.

He settles her in your arms, already a natural at holding her. You knew he was going to be an amazing dad, but you could never have imagined this.

“Your dada is the best man in the world, Evie,” you whisper to her, kissing a little baby fist when she waves it around. Andrei just looks at you like you’ve hung the moon, a sweet, tired smile on his face.

Considering the fact that your entire lives have just changed, you’ve never felt happier.

#andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov imagine #carolina hurricanes

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certifiedtrashmouth · 1 year

Note

Oh gosh I don’t wanna repeat someone and I’m not sure about Xmas traditions but what about ridiculous stocking stuffers w Eddie? Fluff/humor.

oh, god. this one also got out of hand. started in light-hearted fun and ended in fluff that had me screaming into my pillow. i'm sorry for the length.

good for one kiss (eddie munson x reader)

warnings: none really. mentions of penis??? (eddie makes a joke about his dick and there's mention of a blowjob but no description lol), mentions of cigarettes, idiots in love. best friends to lovers.

“What am I supposed to do with a single piece of gum?”

“What am I supposed to do with a single cigarette?”

“Smoke it, idiot.”

“It’s broken, idiot.”

“Oh.”

You and Eddie sit cross-legged across from each other on his bed on Christmas Eve, partaking in your annual gift exchange. But there was a catch; each year, you exchanged stockings, only gifting each other what you could fit in the glorified, fleece-lined socks. There had only been two exceptions to the rule of the years - the year you’d gifted Eddie his first professional-grade amp and he’d bawled like a baby (once he’d dried his tears, he’d threatened you and Wayne both endlessly about ever letting the story leave the room. The two of you had exchanged a look, though, knowing neither of you would ever let him live it down.) and the year Eddie had bought you your first acoustic six-string with the promise of lessons from him (it was onyx black and shined with promise as Eddie explained the two of you needed to use paint markers to decorate it).

It was going on five years of the tradition that had stemmed from both of you never being able to afford much for each other, but still wanting to show you care nevertheless. And as the years had gone on, the gifts had slowly found their rhythm. There was always a perfect mixture of cliche throwaway gifts, gag gifts, and gifts so sentimental that some tears were sure to be shed by one of the parties.

“I didn’t think it would break,” you scrunch your nose slightly as Eddie holds up the cigarette, limp from the crack in the middle of it.

“What did you expect, just throwing it in here like that?” Eddie laughs, not bothered in the slightest. He had a pack of Camels snug in the pocket of his leather jacket slung over his desk chair. It was the thought that counted, after all.

“I expected it to be absolutely fucking invincible for how expensive the pack was,” you whine, and he can’t help but watch you with bemusement, “I spent my last dollar from my tips on that damn pack.”

The mention of that softens the look in Eddie’s eyes. He knew the two of you struggled to come up with enough money to even keep up this tradition; he had hardly seen you due to how many spare shifts you’d been picking up at Benny’s the last few weeks.

You catch the look, immediately straighten up, “No, no, no. Don’t even go there, Munson. I can see you going there. Come back to me, idiot.”

Idiot. The term of endearment you’d coined for him since you’d first met in sophomore year of high school. He’d heard it in a dozen different tones - elated, annoyed, exhausted - but not a single one held an ounce of genuine negativity towards him. You made idiot sound like my love.

He wasn’t your lover, though. He kicked himself in the shins every morning over it, always telling himself that today was the day and I’m going to tell her how I feel finally.

Spoiler alert. He never did.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he offers up his own loving nickname for you, “I just know you’ve been busting your ass at Benny’s-”

“Yes, I have, because I want to spoil you for the holidays. I don’t regret a single second of it. Even when those creepy old men tried to shove the dollar bills in my shirt rather than just hand them to me.”

You both laugh at the memory. It hadn’t been very funny when it happened, leading to you calling Eddie crying and him coming to your rescue, but enough time had passed to see the humor in it all.

The rest of the gift exchange goes as expected for the most part. The gag gifts pull the appropriate amount of laughter, and the more genuine gifts pull a softness out of each other that nearly had each of your eyes’ pupils forming hearts.

Eddie fawns over a pack of pics you’d had customized with Corroded Coffin’s logo, and you react just as bluntly as expected when you pull a long red candle from your stocking, looking up to Eddie blankly.

“For when I finally sacrifice you in the woods,” he explains with a cheesy grin, “Gotta have candles if we’re going to worship Satan, sweetheart.”

“Ha-ha,” you dead pan, tilting your head slightly as you keep a straight face, completely unimpressed, “You’re hilarious, Munson.”

“Hey, I could have made a sex joke,” he throws up his hands in a defensive manner, shrugging his shoulders and looking to the ground in faux shyness.

“Yeah, yeah - you could have made a sex joke,” you mumble as you shove the candle to the side, a smile still escaping the corners of your mouth.

“As a matter of fact, I still can. Don’t think I didn’t notice the fact that you replaced my stocking this year, darling, and that it’s noticeably larger. Finally big enough to fit over my massive dic-”

“You’re disgusting,” you interrupt, grabbing the candle and now whacking one of his knees with it, making him fall victim to an uncontrollable giggling fit, “Have you ever been told that? Let me be the first to tell you - you’re absolutely vile, Edward Munson.”

You don’t mean it, and he knows you don’t. You’re both laughing too much over it.

You’re starting to get to the bottom of the stockings now. You each have an odd arrangement of candy that had been included in each respective stocking - Eddie is socking on a blue jolly rancher, being sure to make annoying slurping noises to get a rise out of you, as you nibble on a miniature candy cane. There’s only one gift left in your stocking, a small box that you only reach for once you rewrap the candy cane in the plastic wrap it’d come in that you’d saved to avoid getting sticky fingers.

“What’s this?” you ask, pulling it out and letting the empty stocking fall into your lap.

Eddie looks up from where he was preoccupied with attempting to open another jolly rancher. His eyes light up from the present in your palm, “Oh, only saving the best one for last, sweet thing.”

You look at him questioningly, but begin to slide your finger under the delicate edge of the small box regardless. It takes concentration to pry open the box without tearing it, but you do, you gasp.

In a bed of cotton, there’s a necklace.

It looks like a copy of Eddie’s signature pick necklace. But instead of the dark swirling black between clouds of burgundy red, it shines with pearlescent opal white and ruby red, glimmering on a silver chain as if it were made of jewels.

When you gently lift it from the box, it’s clear it’s not a real pick. It’s heavier - Hell, it might actually be made of gemstones.

“Eddie-” you gasp, cutting yourself off, mesmerized by the beauty.

He’s nearly shaking with delight, “It’s a locket. Look, open it.”

You see what he means immediately, realizing that the weight was from the thickness of the faux pick. There’s a subtle seam, with a silver lock on the side that clicks gently when you press on it. The locket swings open, and inside is a snug photo of you and Eddie. You can pinpoint exactly when the photo was taken; it was at your birthday party two years ago, both of you laughing with cake icing on the tips of your nose. The photo is in dramatic black and white, but you can still picture how obnoxiously red your cheeks were with Eddie’s arm slung around your shoulder, pulling you into him as you two lost it over God knows what.

You feel yourself beginning to tear up, completely stunned, “I- Oh my God, Eddie. I don’t know what to say.”

“You can start with how I’m the best friend ever,” he cheekily grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you as you let out a breathless laugh.

“It’s…God, it’s beautiful. This- This is too much, Eddie. I can’t imagine how expensive-”

“Nope,” he cuts you off quickly, waving his hands frantically, refusing to listen to your lecture. He didn’t care if it had cost him everything he owned, down to the clothes on his back - it was worth it to see that look on your face. “Don’t even start, sweetheart. One of Wayne’s friends at the plant has a wife who makes jewelry for a living. We got the family discount because she thought the idea was so dang adorable,” his voice pitches to mock the mystery woman, and it makes you tearily laugh some more.

You look back down at the open locker, finger tracing over the opposite side from the photo.

E. It’s engraved in cursive. As if you’d ever forget the initial of the boy in the photo - the boy in front of you.

“You really had to choose the photo that made me look like a dork, didn’t you?” you softly tease under your breath, staring at the memory in unfiltered fondness.

“Someone’s got to keep you humble,” he retorts.

You ignore his comment, standing quickly and holding the necklace out to him, “Help me put it on?”

He doesn’t hesitate to leap off the bed to your side, taking the chain gingerly before you turn and face your back to him. His movements are careful and deliberate as he brushes your hair off to the side, cold fingers skimming over your skin and sending shivers down your spine before he loops the necklace around the front of your chest. You can feel his warm breath on the nape of your neck as he fiddles with the clasp for a few moments before finding success.

“Aha! Perfect,” he claps as you spin around, grinning giddily at the weight that sits naturally between your collarbones. It gives you a sense of security, a sense of comfort, a sense of home.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you earnestly say, voice crumbling with emotions as your smile shines and you lift a hand to pinch the necklace between two fingers. The locket is smooth as you rub over it, “I love it.”

His face reflects your happiness right back before you suddenly throw yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. He returns it immediately, squeezing you back just as strongly. You both melt into the hug, comfortable as you eventually beginning to just-barely-sway in the middle of Eddie’s room, chests pressed together as hearts beat in sync.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your hair before placing a chaste kiss on your temple.

“Merry Christmas, Eds.”

You finally pull away, both of you returning to your original positions on the bed. Gifts are scattered around you, mixing with candy and wrappers, as Eddie pulls up his stocking and begins to shake it upside down.

“There’s not any more gifts, Eddie, you already opened them-” you cut yourself off, the smile that had your cheeks aching still fading when a piece of paper flutters from his stocking.

Oh no.

“No more gifts, you say?” he smirks in your direction, picking up the folded note, “What’s this, then?”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’d forgotten about that. When you’d been wrapping Eddie’s gifts the night before, Robin had joined you to keep you company. The two of you had broken into a few bottles of wine around the house when you had a bright idea (at least, at the time it seemed bright. Now, it was the dumbest idea you’d ever had. Ever.). Coupons for Eddie, ranging from redemption for kisses to redemption for more… explicit acts. To be fair, Robin had egged you on, knowing of your hopeless crush of two years on your best friend. You’d folded each ‘coupon’ and sealed them with kisses from red lipstick the two of you had dug out of your desk drawers. You’d chickened out when the buzz from the wine faded, and pulled all of the ridiculous notes out before properly filling the stocking with his actual gifts.

Or at least, you thought you’d gotten all of the notes out. Clearly, you hadn’t.

“Don’t open that!” you blurt out, lurching forward and attempting to snatch the paper from Eddie. It only makes his smirk grow, hand shooting out away from you, glancing wildly between you and the kiss-stained paper.

“Now you’ve really got me curious,” he mocks, pulling a face at you as he brings the paper back to his face, beginning to unfold it.

“No, Eddie, seriously, don’t read it. Please. It was so stupid, I- Robin and I were drinking, and I just…” you trail off in your explanation as he completely disregards you and his eyes trail over your scribbled words.

You didn’t even know which one had been left behind. You could only hope it was one of the less vulgar ones.

“Is this a joke?” he asks softly. You’re shocked - you’d expected merciless teasing. Not whatever look was currently in his eyes.

“What?” you ask, trying to peer over to see what the paper said. Depending on which dumb coupon it was, your answer would change, “I- Sort of. Maybe. No. I don’t know.”

You begin to wring your hands in your lap, waiting for him to respond. You felt so nauseated you considered escaping to the bathroom. Maybe you could die of embarrassment in the Munson men’s bathtub.

But then you remember it’s the Munson men’s bathtub, and decide the better fate may lay here, Eddie glancing up at you with moving curiosity, eyebrows furrowed.

Your cheeks burn crimson as you wish for the Earth to swallow you whole.

“Yes or no? Is it a joke?” he asks again, a stern tone that manages to not come across angry.

Your stomach and chest twist in sync, “No. It isn’t a joke.”

Suddenly, Eddie is taking the note and thrusting it towards you, eyes blown wide and chest heaving.

“Then I’d like to redeem it now, please.”

You don’t realize it, but the room had started spinning the moment Eddie had read what was written down. It felt like a dream - a dream he’d indulged in with no hopes of it ever coming true for an embarrassingly long amount of time now.

Your hands shake as you reach out to take the note from him, and you look down to see just how much drunk you had screwed you over in this moment.

In your messy handwriting, it reads: Coupon for Eddie Munson - good for one (1) kiss. To be redeemed at Eddie’s discretion.

You breathe out a sigh of relief, thankful it wasn't a vulgar one, before the reality of what Eddie had just requested hits you.

“Did you just- did you just say you want to redeem it now?”

Eddie nods, a determined look crossing his face, “Yes, please.”

You both stare at each other for a moment, letting the emotions in the air sink in. It takes a moment before you both break out into withheld, shy smiles.

“Okay,” you sigh.

Before you can overthink it, you’re both leaning forward, Eddie’s hands cupping your cheeks as his lips meet yours tenderly. It’s just a peck, nothing more, but it sends your heart into cardiac arrest. You can still taste the jolly ranchers on his lips, and he tastes the sweet mint of the candy cane on yours.

You both pull back slightly, his hands not leaving your face, knees pressing together. Your eyes had fluttered close, and you don’t have the guts to open them quite yet and face the consequences of what had just happened between the two of you.

“I like you,” you admit quietly, your entire body tensing as you await rejection.

It doesn’t come. Instead, you’re met with the sound of Eddie’s gentle voice, “I like you, too.”

Your eyes finally spring open to already find him staring at you with adoration. “You do?”

“Of course I do, sweetheart. I let you touch my first sweetheart. I only give that privilege to the prettiest of girls,” he laughs, eyes flickering to your lips but still keeping his distance.

“You’ve only let me have that privilege.”

“Exactly.”

He finally closes the distance again, lips slotting against yours as if they’re meant to be. Something clicks in the Universe, something that says that this is right and meant to happen. Two years of silent and hopeless pining, only to find out both your feelings were returned. It leaves the two of you delirious as you both deepen the kiss. Somehow, Eddie ends up scooting up his bed until his back meets the wall where his headboard would be if he had one, you straddling his lap. It’s all still so innocent; just the two of you, soft and sickly sweet kisses as you hold one another as if you expect the other to vanish.

“Merry Christmas, Eds,” you repeat your earlier statement and reach up to his gifted locket on instinct now. It feels right. You and him this close, you and him kissing, the photo of you resting against your chest where it belongs.

“Best Christmas ever,” he chuckles before he captures you in another kiss.

He’s right. It’s safe to say the two of you struggle to ever top that Christmas. You make it a running joke to always include coupons in his stocking from that year on. Each year, the coupons get better, sometimes raunchy and sometimes just downright adorable.

Good for one cuddle.

Good for one blowjob (don’t waste it).

Good for one surprise date night.

They’re always fairly clever, and each year, he thinks you get closer to topping that first note.

But it’s not until years down the road, when the two of you sit across from each other in your now shared living room, in some big city you now call home, that he knows that he had finally topped that year. The look on your face when you dig into the bottom of your stocking, finding the small box that contains the diamond ring he’d been saving up for ever since that first kiss, tells him everything he needs to know.

It’s still pretty nice when he hears you squeal yes out loud, though.

#twenty four hours of christmas #writing #asks #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #this one... this one got to me #but in a soft way

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tomtenadia · 30 days

Text

Detours to You - 26

Hellooooo

Here we are with another chapter. Now this is tooth rotting fluffy. Maya gets to find out she is a big sis and well... her reaction is very Maya like. Also, Aelin and Rowan have to try and navigate the seas of "telling your kids about pregnancies and babies" Hope I made it fun.. And then of course we have the grandparents...

So well... enjoy

MASTERLIST

The day after the wedding Rowan opened his eyes and the first thing he felt was the familiar weight of his daughter on his belly. While still single he loved sleeping belly down and a starfish spread. Now he had he had started sleeping on his back to allow his two women to use him as a pillow.

He looked down and saw Maya on top of him, head tucked in the crook of his neck and her arms spread as if to hug him.

Aelin was sprawled on the bed with her legs draped over his, her arm reaching to cover Maya and her hair all over the place. Yes, it was always a shock to wake up that way, but he would not trade it for anything. He was happy. He kissed both their heads and with his arm he held them both.

After the wedding they had all come back a bit later and Maya had crashed in their bed so they just changed her into her pyjama and slept all together. The bed was big enough to accommodate the mayhem of limbs that the sleeping arrangement caused.

A gentle kiss on Aelin’s head and his stomach fluttered at the memory of the previous day and the news that he was becoming a dad again. He was elated and this time he would be there for every step. It was his second chance and he was not going to miss a single moment.

When he woke up from his thoughts a pair of green eyes identical to his stared back at him “morning, my elf.”

“Morning, dad!” She shouted all excited. Maybe a bit too loud for the hour, but Maya had always a lot of energy from the moment she opened her eyes.

“Shh, mama is still resting.”

“No I am not,” she croaked, her face smashed on Rowan’s chest. Aelin then rolled over and a moment later she was running for the bathroom.

Aelin came back five minutes later and crawled in bed nested in Rowan’s arms.

“Dad, is mum ill?”

Rowan stared at Aelin and she nodded.

“Can you keep a secret for today?”

The girl nodded and Aelin rolled on her back and Rowan exposed her still flat belly. Gently he caressed it enjoying the feeling of knowing that their child was growing inside of Aelin.

“Would you like to have a brother or a sister?”

Maya sat up and looked at her parents in excitement.

He brushed Aelin’s belly once more “See? Your mum is carrying your little sibling.”

The girl look confused and then shocked “did she eat it?”

Aelin laughed “No, my love, your sibling is growing inside me and when they are ready they will be born.”

Maya still looked confused and Aelin thought it was far too early to have the bees and flowers conversation. Rowan had confessed her that they had to order books on how to explain such topic to a child. After the elation of the news now he was panicking at the possible question that Maya might ask.

“They are like a little fish, swimming inside mama’s belly.” Added Rowan.

“Aren’t they scared?”

“No, Maya, your sibling is safe and they are quite cozy too.”

Maya touched her mother’s stomach right where Rowan’s hand was.

“Right now they are very small, but soon they will start to grow. Just like you did.”

She looked at both of her parents “I was inside mama too?”

Aelin nodded.

“Can they hear me?”

Rowan brushed her head “not yet, but soon they will and you will feel your sibling kick as well.”

“Did mama eat the baby?”

Aelin stared at Rowan and he nodded “I love your mum very much and she loves me and together we made the baby.”

Maya was silent for a second pondering the next question for her poor parents “Can I have one too?”

This time it was Aelin’s turn to speak up “Not yet, you need to be much older, but one day, if you want you will be able to have yours too.”

Maya fell silent and then leaned her head on Aelin’s tummy “Hi, I am your big sister.”

Aelin sobbed at the scene and Rowan pulled Maya in his arms “Now, mum will be more tired and you and I need to be super nice to her.”

“I will be nice to mama.”

Rowan rolled out of bed and lifted the girl in his arms “let’s go and make breakfast.”

“Yes! I want waffles.” She quickly got free of her father’s grip and ran out of the door.

Rowan leaned over to Aelin “do you think you can eat something?” A kiss “do you really need to go to work?”

Aelin sat up “I will be fine and I can’t leave Elide alone while Lys is away.”

“Ok, do you want me and Maya to stay with you both?”

“All day at the shop? You will be bored.”

“Think about it,” a kiss on the lips “what if I make you a milkshake?”

Aelin’s arms wrapped around his neck “I will be downstairs soon.”

Once in the kitchen Eiddwen was already there busy preparing a nice Sunday breakfast “Good morning all.”

Maya ran to her grandmother ‘Nana Wen, I am going to be a big sister.” She shouted happily.

Rowan froze. Apparently the concept of not telling anyone did not apply to her grandmother. He and Aelin had planned on having all the grandparents to dinner that night and make the announcement, but Maya had other plans.

“Rowan?”

He looked at his mum and nodded “Aelin told me yesterday. We were planning on having Evalin and Rhoe over tonight for the big reveal.”

His mum stepped closer to him and hugged him tight “another baby?”

Rowan nodded and Maya joined them “I will be a big sister.”

Eiddwen crouched down “yes, you will.”

In that instant Aelin entered the room and Rowan’s mum walked quickly to her crushing her in a hug “I am so happy for you both.”

“Maya blabbed,” added Rowan with a smile.

“Maya! It was a secret.”

“Not to nana!” Added the little girl while trying to climb on her chair.

Eiddwen laughed and started fussing over Aelin who rolled her eyes “You Whitethorn really do fuss a lot.”

“We wear it like a badge of honour.”

Rowan smiled while cooking the waffles “it must be genetic.”

“So what does this mean?”

“We are a family,” added Maya happily “I have a dad too!”

Aelin sat at her daughter’s side and pulled her closer. A soft kiss on her head and in silence she thought about how much different her life was. In the span of months she had gone from being a single mum, to this. To have the family she had imagined with Rowan. She was glad he had been pushy because seeing Maya that happy was worth all the heartache.

“Waffles ready!”

Maya screamed and the chaos that was breakfast could eventually commence.

“Mum, I was going to cook!”

“Shush,” Eiddwen waved her wooden spoon at her son “Now, while Aelin is not here,” the woman started stirring “what are you intentions? You live together, have a daughter and there’s another child on their way. Surely you are going to marry the woman?”

Rowan hummed happily “The perfect proposal takes time.”

His mother gasped and threw her arms around him “You have the ring, just seal the deal.” Rowan hugged his mother back and silence fell “Dad should be here. He would have loved Maya.”

“I miss him too, Rowan, but I am sure he is very proud of you.”

“I hope so,” he kissed his mother’s head and pulled back.

“Evalin and I were just discussing a while ago having more grand-babies. I am glad we don’t have to beg.”

Evening arrived and when the doorbell went off Rowan went to welcome Aelin’s parents.

“Evalin, Rhoe, do come in” the couple entered the house and removed the shoes “Rowan, this house is stunning.”

“Did you get here okay?”

Rhoe nodded “your instructions were very clear. I agree and it’s a stunning location.”

Rowan agreed “I am barely on the city boundaries, most of the land around me is under the Forestry Services jurisdictions.”

“Mum is cooking and Aelin and Maya are upstairs having a bath.” He added.

Evalin disappeared in the kitchen and Rowan sat down with Rhoe “anything to drink? I have driver’s friendly drinks.”

Rhoe nodded and Rowan came back a moment later with a few options.

“So, is the return to work all going fine?”

Rowan grabbed his drink “Yes, the first few days were a bit chaos as I had to play catch up, but now it’s all fine. The commissioner and I are working on some community projects, he has been supporting me on some changes in safety protocols for some factories after the last big fire.” The hellish fire in which he almost died. He pushed the thought away “I had been at that factory a few times before the accident and I had ordered them to make some changes in storing all the chemicals.”

“What about the man who almost endangered my daughter and Maya?”

Rowan flinched “he is rotting in jail. With the police we discovered a lot of nasty things about him.” A pause “we also stopped another building nearby to be repurposed into offices. Forty five families almost were sent on the streets and some of the ones in Aelin’s building are still in temporary accommodation.”

“That is scandalous.” Rowan nodded and then was silent for an instant. He loved to talk to Rhoe and the man was always very interested in his job.

“One of the initiatives we have introduced is to raise awareness to the fact that the fire services can go to houses and do inspections, make suggestions and in general work on prevention.”

Rhoe stared at him interested “I never knew.”

Rowan nodded “It’s not very well publicised. The previous chief did not believe in it, but the number of house fires that could be prevented is staggering.” Rowan took a sip of his drink “The fire department in Wendlyn encourages it a lot and the Commissioner loved the idea.”

“Any chance you can come and have a look and our house?”

“Of course.”

They were talking and making arrangements when a little silver-haired tornado ran towards them “grampa!”

“Maya!” Rhoe grabbed his granddaughter pulling her on his legs “Grampa I am a big sister!!”

Rowan sighed. Apparently they were not allowed to have secrets with the grandparents.

Rhoe looked at Rowan in question and the man nodded “Evalin! Evalin!”

The woman came running in the living room alerted by her husband’s voice.

“Nana, I am a big sister!” Screamed Maya.

Evalin froze and Aelin appeared in that instant on the threshold.

“Aelin?”

“Yes?”

Evalin ran to her daughter “I am so happy for all of you.”

She looked at Rowan and he shrugged.

“We were planning on a better reveal but Maya is so excited that apparently she needs to tell everyone.”

The woman grabbed Rowan’s hand and pulled him into the hug “Both of you, thank you. This is such a wonderful news.”

“Now all you have to do is to get married.” Added Rhoe deadpanned.

“Dad!”

The man sighed “Aelin, it’s just the next logical step.” He grabbed Maya on his lap again “What do you think? Do we want mum and dad married?”

“Yes!” The girl squealed “and I want to have the rings again.”

Rowan and Aelin were silent.

“Don’t tell me that you two are still fighting on things. I thought all was resolved,” added Evalin who had sat down near her husband.

“We are not fighting,” she replied, looking at Rowan in support and he nodded.

“We are still settling in, in this new arrangement.”

“Aelin is pregnant. Looks to me you two are more than settled.”

Rowan sighed. Rhoe was right and he really was planning on proposing but he was still working on when and how. It had to be special. It had been long time coming and it meant everything to him.

Eiddwen called everyone to battle station when she announced that dinner was ready saving both Aelin and Rowan from further talks of marriages and proposals.

That night after the meal was over and Maya in bed, Rowan and Aelin were getting ready for bed. Rowan was already sitting under the covers, his back against the backboard and a book in his hands while Aelin was finishing to change in her night attire.

“I am sorry about my parents tonight,” she called from the ensuite bathroom.

Rowan chuckled “It’s fine, they are just excited.”

Aelin emerged a moment later with shorts and a baggy t-shirt and climbed at his side “I know but maybe be less nosey.”

He folded his arm around her waist and pulled her closer “They just want to see us happy. They know what we have been through,” a kiss on the side of her head “Unless you don’t want us to get married.”

Aelin stiffened “I do, but as you said, we are still getting adjusted to all the changes that happened so quickly.”

Rowan chuckled again “here I agree with your dad, I think we are more than settled.”

She melted in his embrace “I am overthinking again?”

“Ae,” Rowan turned Aelin towards him “there’s nothing wrong in being over cautious,” a kiss on her lips “but if I hadn’t left I would have asked you to marry me a long time ago. You are it for me.”

Aelin was silent and let the closeness to him push away all of her remaining doubts. Rowan was right “There’s no way without you, remember?”

Their song. “All the ways of my life, I’d rather be with you. There’s no way without you.” He sang to her.

Aelin hummed and pulled him down “but I want a fun proposal.”

He rolled over and kissed her “that can be arranged, m’lady.”

“Include Maya, it will make her feel important.”

Rowan smiled. All of a sudden he knew exactly how to propose to Aelin.

taglist

@rowaelinismyotp @swankii-art-teacher @whimsicallyreading @elentiyawhitethorn @aelin-bitch-queen @bruiseonthefaceofhumanity @mis-lil-red @thegreyj @sailorsassley @leiawritesstories @clairec79 @morganofthewildfire @sv0430 @heartless--aromantic @autumnbabylon @rowanaelinn @susumaus98 @gracie-rosee @mybloodrunsblue @tanvee1231 @avenrebekah @whoever-you-choose-to-love @theywillnotsingforme @universallytreepost @black-daisy-water @goddess-aelin @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart @lovely-dove-zee @athena127 @mariaofdoranelle

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin fanfic #aelin x rowan #throne of glass fanfiction #rowanwhitethorn #aelin galathynius #domestic fluff

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k-dokja · 2 years

Note

SEONG TAEHOON REQUESTS ARE OPEN ITS THE HOLY GRAIL HOLY CRAP

[ Where do you see yourself in ten years? ]

To Seong Taehoon, someone who lives on a day-by-day basis, that is a loaded question. He has no idea what he'd have for dinner that night, it'd be insane for him to know where he'd be in ten years. In fact, the timeline alone makes him roll his eyes back into the sockets. Maybe in five years, some of his classmates graduated from their university, some are even working, and others are adrift with life.

Him, however, he cannot envision the life he has even one year from now on. Five years would be a mighty stretch. What would he even do to answer ten years?

After spending ten seconds with nothing coming to mind, Taehoon leaves the answer blank. The questionnaire is not compulsory anyway, he'd have no trouble if he leaves it be. A silly question coming from a silly future career survey his school has the students doing. He'd forget about it in a matter of hours.

Except, he doesn't.

A few hours later, he sits on the floor of your bedroom, his back leans on the side of your bed.

You hurdle over the floor table, memorising some formulas he has problems understanding from one end to the other. Every now and then, the scribes of your pen are interrupted by you stopping to calculate or thinking over another problem. After watching you work for what would be five minutes, he decides his boredom should no longer be his own.

"Hey."

You answer without stopping. "Hm?"

He recites the question, word for word. "Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

"How should I know? I don't have the future vision."

Taehoon reaches out to pull your cheek, effectively stops you from studying, "Hypothetically, dumbass. Like, if everything goes right, where would you be?"

"What do you expect me to say?" You swat at his hand, but it's too late, the damage is done. "Have a nice, decent income with an apartment in the city? Have a healthy liver and a social life on top of my busy schedule?"

He leans forward on the table, chin landing on the palm of his propped hand, "Where am I in it?"

"Eh?"

He repeats again. "Where am I in it?" His eyes bore into yours.

You look at him, then you don't. In that sudden moment of interrogation, you turn away to collect your thoughts. He knows that, yet, all it looks like to him is that you find the innumerable amount of books on your shelf more fascinating than his question.

"Uh..." You turn back to him. That confused expression is on your face again. Any other occasion, that'd have made him smile. "That'd depend on what you want to do?"

"But I don't know," he hums, "I don't know what I want to do yet. I know I will continue to do Taekwondo but."

He stops. Now, it is his turn to look at your innumerable amount of books. Weirdly enough, on all of the occasions that he comes here, he has browsed them more than a few times. Yet, Taehoon never knows how many books are on there. "I don't know, maybe I will go back to MMA again?"

"Then you'll be a successful MMA fighter in ten years," you say it with such nonchalance that he almost believes what you're saying is a spoken truth, not the undeterminable future.

"That easy?" He laughs quietly. "What if I get kicked out due to misconduct again?"

"I'd like to think you're capable of growth," you stick your tongue out, "and no longer as much of a shithead."

He lunges at you with a snap of his teeth. You recoil, keeping your tongue firmly in your mouth again. The look on your face makes him grin. "You were my friend back then," he points out, "you don't have a leg to stand on to criticize about my personality."

"Exactly! I'd never date you from back then." You turn up your nose. Decidedly a bad choice on your end, because he takes that moment to squeeze it. "Ack! You bastard! That was so uncalled for!"

You swat at his hand again, openly glaring back when he shows you his signature smarmy grin. "That's what you get for loving me conditionally."

"As if you don't love me conditionally, too!" You grumble. "Anyway, why did you ask?"

"Eh, some stupid questionnaire from a career survey," Taehoon says, "it doesn't matter really."

You look back at him with those curious eyes again, "What is your answer?"

"Like I said, I don't know," Taehoon shrugs, "I just wrote some stupid shit like becoming the president and having a mountain of cash."

"Seriously?" You look like you're about to laugh. "What else did you write?"

Taehoon grins again. Immediately, what cheer you have on your face diminishes a little. "That I'll have a supermodel wife who's at least a head taller than you and a hundred times hotter than you."

"H-Hey!" You smack his shoulder, but he manages to dodge it in time.

With the limited space between the two of you, however, he cannot escape your wrath the second time. Instead, he decides to take it head on and capture your wrist. You glare up at him defiantly, yanking your hand back from his hold. However, it is not possible when his original purpose was to keep you there.

When you raise your other hand to strike him, he captures it, too. Now, you're stuck and looking stupid. He cannot say it doesn't delight him.

"Taehoon...!"

He leans in again, and you lean back. Nowhere to go, as it is. "I'll let you go if you give me a kiss."

"I don't want to kiss you right now," you scrunch up your face, "go kiss your model wife, you stupid—"

"Aww, are you jealous~?" Taehoon says. "I'll leave her for you, promise."

"No, I don't—"

"All for the price of one kiss~"

"No!"

"Are you really mad about this?" He snickered. "Over some fictional woman that I made up? Does that mean you thought the position belong to you instead?"

"Ugh, it doesn't matter," you pout, but your glare remains on him, "you said it was stupid so it is stupid."

"Then why are you mad~?" Taehoon slackens his hold on your hands and you're quick to draw back. However, he remains defensive for the next few seconds in case you strike again despite his lax attitude. "You should be honest with your feelings."

"My honest feeling is that you deserve a kick in the ass."

"You know, it's cute when you're jealous."

You turn away from him, fully trying to shun him this time around. "Hmph. I'm not jealous. Think whatever you want."

"Seriously, c'mere." He pulls you to his side, which is a bit of production with the table between the two of you and the fact you're uncooperative. You're not resisting him, but you don't make it easy either. Finally, Taehoon lifts you up and lands you on his lap.

Once again, you refuse to look at him, but he'd say this is progress enough. "Are you really mad at me?" He kisses your hair and cuddles you while you remain stubborn in your defiance "Really~? I made all of that that up."

"Why you—"

That's it. You turn back to curse him out, but in doing that, you give him easy access to your lips. He kisses you, short and sweet. When the two of you part, he's grinning and you're pouting. Cute.

"Ugh." You thump your fists on his chest. "Stop messing with me!"

"But you make it so easy~"

"Taehoon!"

#seong taehoon #seong taehoon x reader #how to fight #viral hit #fics

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zarvasace · 1 year

Text

Wooden

Gen, 700 words, Wind & Wild, disability AU, AO3 link here

Today was a bad walking day for me so I wrote :) Usual disclaimer, I don't have this disability, but I have something similar ish. The descriptions are from my own experience and may not be accurate.

(@arecaceae175 the day's pretty much over, but I hope it was an okay day in the end! Your comment earlier gave me the bug to write this one.)

---

"You're limping," Wild says. At least he has the forethought to keep his observation quiet.

Wind still scowls. "If you haven't noticed, I'm always limping a little. It's not exactly easy to walk on a wooden leg, Wild."

"No," Wild says, and Wind isn't sure what part he's rejecting. "Your walking isn't always even, but that's not a limp. You know what is, though? Whatever you're doing right now."

"I am not!" He is. He knows he is. He's usually one to walk near the front of the pack near Warriors and Wild, or at least the middle, but he's drifted to the very back today. He's been trying to keep up.

Everything just… it hurts. The end of his left leg is a little achy, and his knee feels cold. He can't actually feel his prosthetic, he knows that, but little bright sparks of pain shoot up his left leg whenever he takes a step. That's not even accounting for his hips, which feel overworked and numb, and his right foot, which is tired from all the weight he's been putting on it all day.

It's a bad day. His world has been narrowing to the road in front of him as he's been focusing harder on just keeping up with the group.

And, despite Wind doing what he could to pretend he's fine, Wild had noticed. Of course he'd noticed.

"We can stop," Wild says, even quieter.

Wind shakes his head. "We're almost to the village Twilight mentioned, it isn't worth it." He knows he's not the only one who'll appreciate a bed underneath him soon. If they stop for a few minutes, they'll just be delaying sweet softness by that much more.

"You could climb on my back," Wild offers, which is very nice of him, but it just makes Wind scowl more.

He narrows his eyes at the dirt in front of him. A pebble just the right size to kick passes, but Wind's too focused on moving his feet to branch out like that. "Thanks. But I'm okay."

Wild shrugs. "You have about thirty seconds until someone asks if we need a break."

"What?" Wind looks up, and sure enough, they're walking about four yards behind Legend and Hyrule, who've definitely noticed them lagging. They're walking a bit farther behind Four and Twilight than they normally would, perhaps to disguise the distance Wind's fallen behind.

Wind groans at himself. They can't even see the village yet. His limp is becoming more pronounced with every step. He's not sure if he can make it on his own, his legs feel like they're entirely made of wood, numb and heavy. It's just a matter of time before he stumbles.

A faint noise makes Wind look back up at Wild, recognizing the sound of the slate activating. Wild's switched out his usual blue tunic for a leather vest that doesn't cover his stomach, which now features purple body paint.

Wind stops to stare in confusion. And perhaps a little jealousy—the outfit looks ridiculous, but in kind of a very cool way.

"Boosts my strength a little," Wild says by way of explanation. He smiles a little and counts under his breath. "Eight, seven, six, five…"

"Fine!" Wind huffs. Wild has him by the throat, metaphorically speaking. Wind won't force everyone to slow down for him, and Wild provides a convenient way of doing that.

"Fine," Wind says again, setting his hands on Wild's shoulders and hopping. Wild's elbows lock beneath Wind's knees, and he jogs to catch up with the group just as Twilight pauses and looks back at them with a question in his expression. Wild had been right on the money with that timing.

Wind doesn't quite have time to erase the pain and frustration from his own face, but he does his best to smile as if he and Wild are doing something dumb for a dumb reason rather than what they're actually doing.

Twilight clearly doesn't buy it, but he doesn't speak up or make them all slow down. He smiles back, rolls his eyes a little, and goes back to the conversation with Four.

"Mission accomplished," Wind mutters to Wild, relaxing a little more in the hold. His legs don't hate him quite as much anymore. It's good to get the pressure off. "Hey, Wild?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

Wild doesn't answer verbally, but he doesn't need to.

#my writing #linked universe #disability au #lu wild #lu wind #lu fic

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siremasterlawrence · 7 months

Text

Welcome To Court Ben!

Benjamin James is the first boi that I fall fast for deeply in love with him as he heads back to my place pressing his a button in his car keys.

The garage door pops open flipping upward in to the sky as he drove in parking nice and slow his eyes flicker when he thinks of me in bed.

Exiting the car he locks the door closing the garage door he walks up to the side door connected to the house and grabs the door knob.

He swerves it to the side sliding in a sigh of relief over comes him in excitement he races up the staircase to the hall way he can hear the television on.

His strong glorious and sexy dark shadow overcast the room getting closer and closer to me every second of the interaction gets me hot.

He faces me now blocking the television set the screen blast brightly in to his back I can see the lights shining past him as he grabs my feet.

My foot legs in to the air beginning to take case he massages my feet slowly inhaling my socks sent he rubs it against his cheeks softly.

The sensation tickling me deep down to my core my body is vibrating through me sends a chill down my spine and I move twisting in the bed.

My socks rolls off my right foot he smirks at it in the light he watches it very closely took tender care and checking out every inch of it.

Picking up my left foot he does the same in his hand he happily caresses me leaning in to kiss my foot up and down making sure every action matters.

He is forty five years old still quite super hot and handsome rocking a dress shirt and a dress pants perfectly decorated over his developed body.

I sit up grabbing his waist as I take his chin in my hands as we make out and he falls in love with me over and over again falling back on to my bed.

He has this dry tone voice but it shakes a lot almost upon instinct as he makes a cool entrance in to the room after he changes his clothes.

He closes the door heading in to the closet he picks up the clothes I left for him on a single hanger for him to wear and stood in front of me.

He excitedly unties his tie, unbuttons his silk shirt I recently purchased, his pants fly on to the floor and kicks off his shoes under my full control.

Now standing stark naked in front of my bed in the beauty of the moonlight washing in to the room his body bathing in it I am a loss for words.

He smirks when I extend my hands reaching for the remote flipping the switch by as I press button and the television turns on as expected.

Cracking up I point my finger into the sky as he catches it snapping it loudly it bounces off the wall his eyes roll back in to his socket and he fell to the floor.

I will more than enjoy my night now hopping from my bed I kneel next to him feeling my slaves body up and then proceed to dress him.

He hates to wear anything expensive so I let him wear his black tee and jeans at night I slip the shirt over his head letting it settle on his body.

I feel his hair then put on his jeans the belt is sealed on now enclosing over I snap him back to reality and he is awoken under my power.

“Master Lawrence! I missed you more than you could ever know.” He swears staring at me.

“I could kiss you right now.” He swears.

“Sir Yes Sir” he replies.

“Master may I go for a motorcycle ride?” He asks me.

“Go ahead Ben! Hurry up!” I say.

“Yes Master!”

“I am going down now “

“I am so fucking lucky”

“Master saved me”

“I just need to clear my head “

“Work is so frustrating “

“All I want it to be free”

“I am with Master”

“I do all for him”

“Devote my life to him”

“I hope he notices “

“Does he even care?”

“I mean really”

“If he did not”

“It would devastate me”

“I would be ruined”

“In shambles “

“Heartbroken “

“There I go again “

“Worrying like a baby”

“No end in sight”

“Focus “

“Hey Master!”

“Yes boi”

“I am about to park”

“Get your ass up here”

“Yes sir!”

“NOW YOU IDIOT”

“Mmmmm”

“Why does insulting make me hot?”

“I love to be insulted”

“My cock throbs “

“I find myself swooning “

“Ugh!”

“Still rambling I see?”

“Sorry Master”

“Master Lawrence “

“Kneel for me”

“Are you prepared?”

“Excellent! Lesson number 100”

The end

#ben affleck #hypnosis #mind control #hypno slave #reprogramming #hypno submission #mind control slaves #Welcome To Court

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cilldaracailin · 1 year

Text

You’re My Best Friend

Hello my Tumblr Lovely’s,

Here is the nest part in this Robyn and Taron series :)

Love Suze x

“People first become friends, and then they love each other.”

Robyn stayed cuddling into Taron, waiting for him to sleep, to feel his breathing change. She was able to see her alarm clock over his head and as the numbers changed to five thirty five am, Taron was still awake. She had been holding his hand the whole time, keeping him tucked into her. He had been fidgety and wriggly, his legs moving, his body moving, Robyn changing position each time he moved. Remembering how he had closed his eyes, tilting his head back into her hand as she dried his hair and wanting him to get some sort of sleep, Robyn decided to try playing with his hair and took her hand from his, feeling his protest as he pulled her hand back.

“Shhh.” She whispered into his hair. “I am still here.” She felt him let go of her hand and with her free right hand, she slowly started to drag her fingers through his hair, the man in her arms changing position again, his legs curling up. She didn’t rush her movements, speed up or slow down, just played with his hair and it took a very long time before he did finally drift off but his sleep was broken and jumpy, the Welshman waking with a start each time, Robyn rubbing his arm to help him settle again, fixing the duvet over his body. She still lay with his back against her chest and each time he woke, she felt his heart racing and after the second time he jerked awake, she slipped her arm under his to place her hand flat on his chest over his heart, pressing her palm firmly against his t-shirt. It seemed to help relax him each time he woke, so Robyn just kept her hand there, Taron slipping his fingers around hers.

For the first time, Taron’s stint in Robyn’s bed had been unpleasant and light and he felt horribly restless. She never moved from behind him and if he hadn’t of been so wound up thinking about everything from set, he would have enjoyed the feel of her bare legs against his, her body curved tightly into him but something he definitely did not miss was how her hand creeped onto his chest, settling over his heart. He had woken with an awful jolt twice but Robyn had found another way to give him comfort and when he woke twice more from a painful anxious sleep, her hand was still there against his chest and he slipped his fingers in with hers. Burying his face into the pillow under him, he felt his eyes grow heavy again and tried to concentrate on how nice it felt to be wrapped up tight in Robyn’s arms.

As the clock numbers changed to six fifty nine, Robyn called out for her alarm to be turned off, hoping her voice didn’t wake Taron. Her alarm was set for seven every day so she could get up to take her iron tablet and with Taron finally asleep and breathing deeply, she did not want anything to wake him. She did however need to move to take her tablet. Even with Taron in her arms in her bed, she couldn’t think about missing her medication. It was a step backwards her body would never forgive her for and if Taron knew she had missed one because of him, he would be kicking himself for coming to her. She could feel the steady beat of his heart under her hand and his hand had long fallen from hers as he slept and with very careful movement, she slipped her right hand from his body and rolled away from him, standing at the side of the bed for a moment to make sure he didn’t wake. She quietly opened the bedroom door and walked into the kitchen. She took out a tablet from the small round bottle on her breakfast bar, Taron’s wet hat and jumper still on her counter. After she put a slice of bread in her toaster, she then picked up Taron’s wet clothes and dropped them in her laundry hamper with his other bits from last night. She told herself she would worry about his lack of clothes later on and back in the kitchen, buttered her toast, ate it quickly and swallowed her tablet with a glass of orange juice. She would normally eat some fruit and a bowl of cereal too but with Taron still not perfectly settled she wanted to get back to him.

Back in the bedroom, she made sure to close her door quietly. He was still asleep, still on his side curled up and Robyn easily nuzzled back into his body, pulling the duvet up over him. But soon after Robyn was back with him, Taron stirred again this time jumping up from the bed, completely disorientated, his head turning round, left and right as he tried to figure out where he was. Robyn had to hop over him and pull him into her arms, to soothe him as he fretted a little, running her fingers through his hair, the man in her arms burying his head right into her as he tried to forget the nightmare that plagued his sleep.

“Shh it’s ok.” Robyn whispered into his hair as she lightly rocked him, just like how she would comfort one of the children if they were frightened.

Taron didn’t realise he was gripping her top in his hands until he opened his eyes and released his fingers to let go of her pyjama top, tucking his hands into his chest. The dream had been disturbing as he found himself in a glass box filling with water and he had no way out, still feeling his lungs hurt as he lay against Robyn as she spoke into his hair. He had gone from shivering cold to feeling an uncomfortable heat on his skin and breathing Robyn in, he concentrated on her heart beat, her hand in his hair and he slowly felt his body calm down.

Reaching to the bedside locker, Robyn picked up the controller for her air conditioning and turned it to the lowest setting, hearing the machine whirl into life, cool air blowing into the room. She cupped his cheek and gently stroked his face, settling herself into him so both were comfortable on the bed. She reached down to pull the sheet of the bed up over them even though she could see the light sheen on his skin, she didn’t want the light breeze to cool him completely. He eventually lay still in her arms and as she watched his face, she could tell he was trying to keep himself awake, watching as his eyes opened and then flutter closed a few times and when she moved her hand to stroke his nose and his temple, he eventually fell asleep.

By ten thirty, Taron had gotten about four hours sleep in total and now he lay on his stomach, one hand in front of his face, the other tucked in under his chest. He had found that position himself, rolling away from Robyn and onto his stomach, his t-shirt rolled up his back as he slept. Robyn had let him naturally move away from her and lay down beside him, dozing herself, but her mind was worried about him so she constantly woke to make sure he was ok. She was so glad that her body had accepted the fact that she didn’t have time to make a lot of food for breakfast and her medication was doing as it was supposed to. It meant she could fully concentrate on Taron and what he needed.

His legs were tangled in the sheet and seeing as how this was the calmest he had been since he got into the bed, Robyn wouldn’t do anything to disturb him or move him. The room was still lit by the bedside lamp, the air con still on as the day turned a little warm. It was to be another nice summer’s day, as summery as Ireland could get that wasn’t an unexpected heatwave and Robyn turned the air a little cooler knowing well how warm Taron ran on a normal day. His back rose and fell as he breathed in, his body finally relaxed as he rested. She had no idea how long he would sleep for but if it was the whole day, she was going to let him. When he was asleep, she could only hope his mind was clear, that his dreams weren’t troubled. She heard a moan come from him and she froze as his body shifted for a quick moment before he settled again, his top scrunching up some more under him.

The curve of his of his waist looked soft and when she dragged a finger gently across his skin, as she predicted he was warm. He didn’t react at all as he slept, so Robyn chanced running her fingers lightly down the right side of his back again. Moving her hand up to where his t-shirt still covered his skin, she started to rub her left fingers in featherlike circles, similar to how she helped get the young children to sleep if they were restless or fidgety. While Taron wasn’t either of those, she really wanted him to get some sort of a decent rest and as always she could never resist touching him when he was asleep and this close to her. She never strayed away from his upper back, just making simple delicate circles, feeling every single breathe he took in, at one point just keeping her hand flat on his back to feel his heart beat. She would never ever forget what it felt like when his body was still under her hands and it unnerved her at times thinking about it. Going back to making soft circles, she moved so she could free up her right hand, now sitting by him, her right hand going to the back of his neck, playing with the shorter hair she found there. Robyn made herself comfortable beside him, both hands giving him a very light massage, hoping it would help his body to remain calm as he slept.

It was a feeling of pure relaxation that Taron woke up to. He didn’t jump awake, or feel his heart racing as a horrible thought behind his closed eyes made him nervous. There was a glorious but ever so gentle massage happening between his shoulder blades, a similar one at the back of his neck and for his tired body it felt lovely. When he climbed into Robyn’s bed, he knew he wouldn’t sleep and rest could not be used to describe his night either. His headache lingered and his thoughts were still very much disturbed but at that moment something good was happening and he lay with his eyes closed, hoping Robyn didn’t notice he was awake, also hoping she might move her hands lower on his back. Her hands never moved lower, but she also never stopped and Taron couldn’t even say how long he lay for but knew after he took one very deep breathe in and out, he couldn’t fake being asleep any more.

“I don’t remember bringing a voucher for a back massage.” He said, his voice a little groggy even though he had been awake.

“You sure you don’t have one somewhere?” Robyn replied to him, her hands still moving on his back and neck. “You always seem to have a secret stash somewhere on you.”

“Usually in my wallet.”

“Let me check your wallet then.” Robyn took her hands from him but saw Taron’s back lift a little in protest.

“I didn’t say stop. It feels nice.” He murmured into the pillow.

“You sure you got a back massage one?” Robyn teased, placing her hands back on his body.

“Hmmm sure.” He breathed in deeply again, this time feeling a definite difference in the pressure Robyn was using on his skin and when she used her thumb to deeply trace the whole length of his spine, his groan couldn’t be helped. “Fuck.” He cursed arching his back up into her thumb as she did it again.

Robyn chuckled as his response and moved her hand back up towards his neck, this time her circles deeper than before. “You better have a voucher.”

“I will pay you back.” He said quickly to her.

“Yeah?”

“Hmm yeah.” He sighed as Robyn dug her heel into the centre of his back. “Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“Anything.” He added as he felt her fingers at his neck again.

“You sure?”

“Robyn…”

“Just checking…” She chuckled, still making circles on his back. “Anything?” She asked once more, his head turning, his eyes glaring at her with a raised eyebrow, but his face was grinning a little. “I just want to know how long this has to last for the payment I would like.”

His laugh was light and it was a lovely sound to hear even if his face was tired. “Why, what do you want?” He asked, his head falling back onto the pillow.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Robyn…” His chuckle was a beautiful sound to her ears and Robyn smiled at hearing his laugh, seeing his face grin at her grin. “God only knows what you will have me doing for you.”

“I will have a think.” She said simply as she continued to draw circles on his back. She watched him lay his head back down and she got to her knees so she had better access to his back and moving from his shoulders down to the waistband of his boxers, and back up again, used her thumbs mostly to really knead deep into what she was sure were stiff and tense muscles. On her second round up his back, she moved his t-shirt up as far as she could to his shoulders, placing her hands gently on his bare skin, knowing the unexpected massage would be mean much more to Taron that way then rather through his t-shirt. He moved his arms from under his to chest to down along his sides, Robyn letting him settle himself, then getting further into his massage. The angle wasn’t great but she did her best to give both sides of his back an even rub, pressing deeply into his skin, moving to his shoulders, having to knead his broad frame through his t-shirt. She did one long last sweep up and down his back, finishing off with some light circles on his skin, not really feeling a difference to the tension he held when she started. “How are you feeling?” She asked gently.

Taron turned his head in the opposite direction on the pillow, putting both his hands under his chest so he could look at her. “That felt really good.” He said honestly. “Thank you.”

Robyn gave him a small smile and brushed away his hair from his eyes. “Any time. You just have to ask. So how are you feeling?” She asked him again. “I know you didn’t sleep well at all.”

“Exhausted. You are right. I didn’t sleep and that’s a first for me in your bed and if I didn’t sleep, that means you didn’t sleep either.” He saw her face soften. “Shit Robyn.” He moved so he could sit up, fixing his t-shirt and leaning against the headboard, Robyn moving too, sitting cross legged beside him. “I didn’t want you to lose sleep. This wasn’t what I wanted at all.” He ran his hands down his face. “I am sorry.” He whispered. “Not what I wanted.” She reached forward to take his hands, to hold them as she could see him starting to think about and remember why he had come to her. “Oh Robyn.” His eyes turned sad and worried. “Please tell me you haven’t missed a tablet.” He asked, his voice laden with guilt. “They are so important for you.”

“I didn’t miss a tablet.” She inched closer to him. “I did not miss a tablet. I got up at seven, like I always do and made some breakfast and had my tablet.”

“Your sleep…” His words and voice trailed off.

“Ok so the thing I want from you for giving you a tiny back massage is for you to stop worrying about my sleep.” He went to speak but Robyn moved her fingers to his lips to stop him. “My sleep and rest and recovery have not been hindered in any way by you coming here and you need to stop feeling guilty and thinking about it. I know there is so much going on in your head right now and that is much more important than my sleep. You know that I have been recovering just fine as we have been speaking every day, so please don’t be worrying about me right now. I am just fine but you are not.” She had dropped her hand from his mouth soon after she stopped him from talking and now holding his hands, gave them a light squeeze. “Can we talk about what happened yesterday?” She asked kindly. “I can see you are still upset over it and I think it would be good to talk about it now, rather than letting it go all day but only if you can.” She added quickly with what she hoped was reassurance. “If you still don’t feel up to it, that is ok. We can pop the TV on and just lay here.”

Taron shook his head lightly. He took his hands from Robyn’s, pulling his legs up to this chest and wrapping his arms around his knees. “Let’s talk.” He replied to her. He knew if he didn’t try to explain what had happened, how he was feeling to Robyn, he would be in a bad mood for the day and he didn’t want to feel like that with her. Not after how she had just taken him in, hugged him tight and looked after him so well. He knew she would understand and probably just let him sit and stew in his mood but he didn’t want that for himself either. He needed to get everything off his chest. “Can you just let me talk through it all? No interrupting and I mean that in a good way?” He added quickly. “If I start, I think I will just need to keep talking. I don’t want to have to go through it twice.”

“Of course.” Robyn answered him. “I am right here for you Taron.” He exhaled loudly, taking two deep breathes in, feeling a hand on his knee as Robyn moved to be closer to him. “Take your time and stop if you want.”

He gave her a single nod. “You know already this but the water re-shoots were yesterday.” Taron turned his face to look at her, making sure he had her eye contact. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you I was in Belfast. I was really only following what you asked me to do which was not to tell you. I know the last set visit was a horrible experience for both of us and I understand why you didn’t want to know about the water work.” He paused and waited for Robyn to say something but she was quiet, though he felt the slight squeeze on his knee from her to continue. “So yeah re-shoots were yesterday. It was a well thought out plan. Fly in and fly back and twelve hours on set. Shoot the scene and done.” He gave a light laugh. “What I never factored into all of this was my reaction to be being back in the water. I was nervous but Robyn, fucking hell I was shit scared too.” He watched her move so she now knelt in front of him, both her hands on his knees. “And I mean scared. I avoided everyone, didn’t go near catering and mam had to talk me out of a panic attack before I left my trailer.” He his head hit the headboard. “It is so stupid.”

“No…” Robyn knelt up to her full height. “It wasn’t stupid Taron.” His head was still tilted back but his eyes drifted to her. “Not stupid.” She said again as he properly looked at her.

“On the way to the pool I was shitting myself Robyn and I mean, hands shaking, heart pounding, properly shitting myself. You know me, head first into every challenge I am given but sitting on the edge of the pool, I didn’t think I was going to be able to get in to the water. I did though and it took me a while to settle, not that I ever did. At one point I swam up to the surface myself, gripping onto the side of the pool and Matthew gave us a break for a bit but we were back into and it just got worse.” He wrapped his arms around his legs tighter but Robyn kept her hands on his knees. “Gabriel had to push me against the set and then it went to fuck. I panicked and proper panicked. I mean I have been afraid on set a few times before. Like flying along the zip line in New York, slipping off the cab, other things you don’t even know about.” He took a shaky breath. “Water work is hard anyway but water work after what happened before, with a mind that was already terrified and then a push into the broken set was not a good combination. I freaked out and horribly freaked out. Feeling my back smash against the set, it all just was too much and I wasn’t even wearing the belt. Stephanie made sure it wasn’t with my set clothes but it didn’t matter. I was fucking rattled and more than I have ever been.”

Robyn could see the panic rising in his eyes, how he had curled up more into himself and she shuffled closer to his legs, placing her hands on his arms, her thumbs rubbing over his forearms gently. She didn’t speak to him but just needed him to know she was there.

“I am sure I swallowed some water because I opened my mouth to try and yell out and the divers immediately grabbed me to swim me up. I kicked and kicked hard, possibly kicked someone who was helping me but I needed to get out. At the surface of the pool, I was still panicking and I was dragged out, literally hauled out of the water by the crew. Lucy was there…” His face relaxed the slightest bit as he mentioned her name but his eyes were still pained, in a fixed frown. “And Stephanie. Lucy sat me down, gave me a paper bag to breathe into, Stephanie covered me in a towel.” He dropped his legs, his arms falling to his sides. Robyn moved to let him, coming to kneel at his side, immediately taking his left hand in hers. “I can’t describe the fear Robyn. The anxiety of feeling my chest tighten, not being able to catch my breath, to look at the water and shake. I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking.” He lifted his right hand to rub his eyes. “All I could see when I closed my eyes were bubbles and water and my brain was fuzzy and my body was still under water. Pure terror.”

Robyn could see Taron’s body tensing up again, feel his hand starting to shake. In his eyes she could see him reliving the whole day and it was obvious he was still so startled by what happened. She had figured something had happened, believed he would have been nervous about getting back into the swimming pool, but didn’t realise what a massive negative effect being in the water was going to have on him. She was still getting to know Taron, learning things about him, the same way he was with her, and she had seen him scared before as he lay in her arms in Florida but this time it was different. He was deeply affected by his set work yesterday.

“Matthew immediately called a halt on the filming. Said he got what he needed but how could he.” Taron turned his head to look at Robyn. “I mean the first time it was interrupted because my belt got caught and the second time because I had a massive panic attack under the water. It’s such a pivotal part of the movie. Where my character finally stands up for himself and I just couldn’t get it right.” He shook his hand free from Robyn’s so he could dig the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I didn’t even get a chance to try and stay and do it again.”

“Taron…”

“I mean I wanted to stay and do it again, to try and get it right but Matthew told me to go and see you.”

“Taron…”

“But then I guess I was sitting on a sun lounger with my head between my knees, breathing into a paper bag so I wasn’t really what you could call a professional actor right there and then.”

“Taron, you…” Robyn tried to interrupt him to console him but he was rushing through his words now.

“He shoved me into the car and Lucy gave me the paper bag again which I fucking needed to use on the way here as I just panicked again. I couldn’t even do my job.” His voice was filled with anger suddenly. “Fucking stupid.” He cursed, his hands in his hair pulling at the long strands, his knees bent again. “I couldn’t even close the shower door when I took a shower earlier because I felt so constricted in the glass box with the water running. I had a nightmare about being stuck in a box filling with water with nowhere to go during the night and then before I even got to Belfast, I was having nightmares about getting back into the pool.” He pulled roughly at his hair before letting his head hit the headboard hard. “I just can’t get rid of this feeling of being surrounded by water and trapped in it.” He looked to Robyn with tears on his eye lashes. “I am so worried that I never going to be able to not feel like this and I hate how weak it makes me.”

Robyn knew her face showed the shock she felt as he spoke. She had seen Taron upset before but he was trembling now, tears escaping from the corner of his eyes and as he said a few hours earlier, he was not ok. She crawled down to beside his knees and gave them a strong push, making him lay his legs straight and without hesitation she carefully sat on his lap, her knees either side of his waist and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulled him right into her. Taron immediately followed her lead, leaned into her and hugged her back. She knew all she could do right then was to just comfort him through a hug. Anything she was wanted to say to him would not get through to him when he was so distraught and irate with himself. Robyn knew when she was emotional, words were no good to her and knowing how Taron felt every emotion he had deep in his soul, right now a tight hug was the best thing for him, just mummering to him that he was going to be ok.

Taron didn’t know he was crying until he felt the tears on his cheeks and the women beside him worked so quickly to get him into her arms, Robyn whispering gentle words of reassurance into his ear, her hands running up and down his back under his t-shirt. He knew he was going to be emotional as he tried to explain how he was feeling but he was also hurt by his time on set. He hated letting people down and while everyone had been understanding towards him, given him support, he just felt like he had disappointed everyone. Along with all of that, he hadn’t lied to Robyn about how petrified he was of anything to do with water, or how he was still feeling like he was breathing in all the bubbles around him. He gripped her top in his hand, his nose squished right into her neck, and the motion of being swayed gently back and forth was strangely calming to him.

Robyn slowly rocked him again, back and forth, letting him cry as he needed, keeping him tight against her. His face was buried into her shoulder and neck, and as snug as she was holding him, he was holding her back. She had slipped her hands under his t-shirt to rub his back, soft and soothing movements, while she spoke to him, telling him everything was going to be ok. He had done the hardest thing and that was talk about how he was feeling. The emotion behind the hurt of the last few hours was all coming out and Robyn was so glad he had been able to tell her the truth, how he was feeling. Right now it was hard and he was wounded but in time he would be ok and that was what she told him as she continued to rock him. She held him for a quite some time, letting hm cry out whatever he was feeling, hearing his sobs change to whimpers and soft cries, his grip loosening a little but he still embraced her close to him and Robyn didn’t dare let him go, talking to him soothingly now.

“You are not weak Taron. Your emotions do not make you weak, they make you strong and you have been through something horrible the last two times you were in Belfast.” She continued to rub his lower back in slow tender circles. “It is so natural you would be nervous and it is ok to still be upset over it all, to feel anxious. Please believe me, the film is not messed up. Matthew told you this and he told me to tell you this.” She lifted her head from his shoulder, making Taron lift his from her shoulder too. Robyn took her hands from his back, her hands going to his face now, her thumbs wiping tears from his cheeks. “What happened in the pool the first time around was going to affect your next trip to the pool Taron. It was never going to be smooth sailing so you cannot be upset with yourself for feeling off about being back in the pool.” She made sure to keep gently rubbing his cheeks. “I know when I jumped into the pool to get you, I could see how distressed you were so naturally when you got back into the water there were going to be feelings, emotions and thoughts that came with getting back in and it has happened so fast, you really have had no time to process anything.” She moved her hands to his shoulders. “And I know you have been so concerned about me, that you haven’t even thought about yourself.”

Taron stared at Robyn with large wide and red eyes, feeling her thumbs slowly rubbing his shoulders now. “It wasn’t until the time came closer that I started to fret over it all. It just suddenly came crashing down on me that I was back for more water work and you are right and it scared the shit out of me.”

“Of course it did Taron. You didn’t just have a swim in that pool the first time. You went through something really stressful.”

“And Florida wasn’t stressful?”

“Oh it was and but we went through that together and after we had two whole weeks together. We spent a lot of time talking to each other and remember that I didn’t sleep for days after that happened and we both know you and me are still getting over Florida but we were in that together. You were alone this time.”

“Yeah I guess.” He lifted his hand to rub his eyes. “But Robyn, a swimming pool. I am scared to go near a fucking swimming pool.”

“And what?” Robyn said, her voice a tiny bit cross. “You really thought you could just walk back onto set and just get on with everything??” She rose an eyebrow at him, hearing his frustrated sigh. “Stop feeling annoyed at yourself because your body told you were taking yourself over the edge. It is ok to feel scared and to admit you can’t go through with something. Hello? Look at me. I am a perfect example of what I trying to say to you. Look at what happened to me because I was just too stubborn to admit that I was feeling ill and sick, pushing myself too hard and now look at what I have to do. Two tablets a day, watching what I eat and taking it easy.” She placed her hands on the back of his neck, letting her fingers play with the hair she found there. “You push yourself too hard sometimes and give yourself an even harder time over things that are out of your control. It is ok to say you can’t do it, that you are scared. It doesn’t make you less of a man.” She told him firmly. “It does not make you weak. It makes you human.”

“Robyn…”

“What happened has affected you and it ok that it has and it is not stupid.” She added quickly before he could say it again. “Matthew did the right thing in not letting you get back in and sending you to me. You needed a friend and I am right here for you, always.” She rubbed his cheeks again.

“I don’t know how he can get all the shots though.” Taron answered.

“If Matthew says he has them, then he has them Taron.”

“I just…”

“No Taron.” Robyn stopped rubbing his cheeks, her voice stern again. “You are not going to torment yourself thinking about this.” She said firmly. “The last few hours have been extremely hard on you and if you start thinking that you did a shit job on set, it is just going to destroy you and Matthew has told me the scenes were perfect and I know you trust him. You trust him right?” He gave her a small nod. “Ok so please at least try to put that to the back of your mind and I know that will be hard until you see the footage.” She saw the overwhelming doubt in his green eyes and brought him into her for another hug, just holding him this time. “One day at a time ok? You are finished the water work, right?”

“Right.” He murmured.

“Ok so no more water work, that’s a positive and you only have a few weeks of filming left. Another plus. Then you have a break.” She let go of him and put her hands on his shoulders this time. “Aside from the pool, this movie has been tough Taron. It has not been an easy shoot and I think you are not only physically exhausted but right now mentally too. There is a lot going on in your head, which we can talk through and you are sleep deprived. Sounds like a couple of nights sleep deprived.”

He nodded. “I haven’t slept well in a while.”

Robyn took her hands from his shoulders, running her hands up and down his arms gently as she sat back on her heels, his legs under her as she sat on his lap. “It was hard to be in the shower because it was so raw for you but it will be better. Getting stuck in the pool was terrifying for you and because I ended up in hospital, I know never really had a chance to talk through what happened to you and then you were back at it.” She stopped moving her hands, lifting her right hand to brush his fringe away from his forehead. “Why didn’t you take up Matthew’s offer of doing the water work at the end of the shoot?”

“I honestly thought I could just do it and get it done. Not have to worry about it again. Fucking backfired on me.”

Robyn gave him a little smile. “Just a tad but I understand your logic.” She gave his arms another long rub. “So, tell me how do you feel now?”

Green sorrowful eyes looked to her. “Still shit, shaken but better for talking to you.” He gave her a raised eyebrow his eyes dipped down to how she was sitting on his lap. “Well, this is a new way for us to hug.”

Robyn gave him a shrug. “You needed the hug and when someone needs a hug, I will do whatever it takes to help that person feel a bit better.” Robyn climbed off him but knelt beside him. “So you feel a little better?”

“Talking through everything always helps me. I am sorry for getting so upset.”

“Taron…” Robyn scolded but her face was smiling a little. “You never apologise for me for needing to get a shit tonne of anxiety off your chest. You needed to talk about it.”

“Like I said it helps me.”

“Well let’s keep talking then. We are going to talk through everything. We have started and we are going to keep going until you feel that weight you are carrying has been lifted.” She sat beside him and wrapped her right arm around his left. “Start from the first nightmare.”

#Taron Egerton #Taron Egerton Fanfiction #Taron Egerton Fanfic #Taron Fanfic #Robyn and Taron #Love #Friendship #Emotions #Trust #Hugs #Cuddles #Anxiety #Worry

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k3rm1e · 3 years

Text

cuddling headcanons! ★~(◡﹏◕✿)

this is more of a test thing to see if i like writing this way and if this blog does well

other imagines and headcanons won't include everyone i write unless it is specifically requested and is a prompt i really like

includes: wilbur nihachu karljacobs quackity dream georgenotfound sapnap p!tommyinnnit p!badboyhalo p!skeppy p!eret p!philza p!tubbo p!ranboo

cw: cursing

wilbur:

wilbur is a very cuddle-y guy

to me he seems very soft

i always see people saying he would like spooning, but i disagree

i feel like he would do more of a half-spooning thing with his head on your chest or the other way around

mans would DEFINITELY make you run your fingers through his hair

i feel like he would lay on your chest and just *nuzzle* into the space between your shoulder and neck

anytime you tried to leave him, whether it was because he had to do something or you had to, he would whine. so. fucking. much.

It would probably always go something like:

you - i need to piss

wilbur - no <3

but the moment he decides its time to stop cuddling its fine

and if you complain that you’re gonna miss him he’ll just call you clingy and tease you

like??? sir???

all in good fun though, no bad intentions :)

nihachu:

i feel like you and niki would face each other

with your head like under her chin and in her chest (this is a bad description but look at the “honeymoon hug” on the list for better explanation ;-;)

she would always want to protect you

so she does that by like almost guarding you and keeping you close

niki would definitely do the arm thing where she just lightly moves her hand up and down you arm

i’m so sorry if you don't understand that, it just feels like something she would do

if you haven't experienced that it kinda sorta feels like spiders??? but in a good way???

but generally she is very protective

she just holds you so close the whole time

even if she doesn’t want to let you go, she’s more understanding about it

she would be upset but wouldn’t show it because she doesn’t want to make you feel guilty

niki is generally just an amazing cuddle-r (is that a word?) and has a super comforting presence

karljacobs:

karl would definitely keep your head on his chest

the whole time he would just absolutely squeeze the life out of you

he would constantly bend his neck down to kiss your head

and instead of just like leaving his head down so he could kiss you it would just be:

*inner monologue karl* hmmm i wanna kiss them on their head

and he would lean down to do so which, cute

but then five seconds later he would do it again

and again another five seconds later

and again

very cute karl but please sir, your neck is gonna be so messed up after this

when you had to leave he would be upset, but like niki, would try not to show it

except karl is very bad at that and his pouting would be so obvious

so you would feel guilty and layback down with him

immediately he just becomes (●´ω｀●)

like a happy little puppy

karl is just too adorable for you to deny

quackity:

now we all know this, quackity is a huge dork

which is why i believe he would DEFINITELY use your butt as a pillow

not even in a weird way

i just feel like quackity isn’t too comfortable with touch so this is sorta his way of being close to you without it being a whole serious thing

like he still is able to be goofy and comfortable without it being a whole big thing

him doing this would almost always come with a flatty patty joke from you

which always causes him to threaten divorce, even though you aren’t married

while it isn’t a very good position for things like physical touch, it is good for talking and having conversations

for some reason i feel like he’s the type of person to text someone when they’re right next to each other

so while he’s laying down he’ll just send you random photos of himself

very annoying when your phone is spammed, but also good blackmail material >:)

i don’t think he’d be too clingy

obviously, he enjoys spending time with you

but if you told him you need to go do work or something he wouldn’t throw a fit or pout

big q just seems like he’d be more rational about stuff like that

overall a 420/69 cuddle partner

dream:

one word: spooning

mans just envelops you and has no shame

very big: “no you are mine! >:(“ energy

while he’s sleeping he’ll unconsciously nuzzle his head into your hair/the back of your neck

when you guys got to bed patches usually climbs in and you hold her

i love patches so much i could write headcanons just about her

dream always wants to be cuddling you

if you try to leave he won’t pout, there simply isn't a discussion on whether you’re moving or not

incase you haven’t caught on yet, the answer is no

you need to do work? just bring the laptop to bed

he needs to edit? just sit in his lap at his desk, duh

obviously, he knows at some point you guys need to stop cuddling

he just isn’t too stoked about it

when it comes time where he absolutely can’t cuddle with you, i feel like he’d be more chill

mainly just annoyed

georgenotfound:

i feel like george, like quackity, also wouldn’t be too touchy

i’m pretty sure he has a hard time expressing emotions (please correct me if i’m wrong!!) and i think that would crossover to his sleeping habits

i think he would prefer a sort of back-to-back cuddling position

it seems cold, i know

but also he would most definitely kick at you

so every night while trying to go to sleep suddenly you would just feel *kick*

and then instead of sleep you’re suddenly playing footsie

lots of laughter and warm feelings involved

george would probably pretend that you kicked his leg hard or something and act like you hurt him

the first few times you were actually worried

but then after a few months your only response was a sarcastic “cry about it”

which just led to more laughter

sapnap:

sapnap and you would do a sort of leg hug thing

you both you try to go to sleep in a cute spooning-type position

but the moment one of you fell asleep it all unraveled

you would wake up apart but you’re legs would still be touching

sapnap would joking blame it on you

“wow can’t believe you don't wanna be close with me even when we’re asleep”

“it’s not my fault! i can’t control where i end up when i sleep!”

“no, no. you don’t have to lie. i see how it is.”

“>:(“

but it's okay!

your legs are the first thing to react in a flight-or-fight situation, so they usually react in an honest way

which is like your legs are both reaching to hold each other!

p!tommyinnit:

i don’t get a very touchy vibe from tommy

i feel like the most he would do is put his arm over your shoulder

not in a flirty way, just in a “hey, there isn’t a lot of space, this will make sitting down more comfortable” way

he will let you sorta fidget with his hand/arm

i don't know if that makes sense but what i mean is that he’ll pretty much let his arm go *flop* so you can control it (by like moving it around or playing with his fingers)

in the beginning he would get annoyed

but eventually he would get used to it and wouldn’t really care

it sounds a bit strange but i personally find it very comforting to just have something to fidget with while watching youtube or netflix in bed with my friends

and it’s entertaining (sometimes i do this to me sister to annoy her :>)

he would act like he didn’t mind if you left him

but holy shit he is so clingy

If you try to leave it’ll just be “no, why??? stay here dumbass”

you would be slightly annoyed when he had to leave but knew he had to film and stream and all that so you would be okay

p!badboyhalo:

you would kinda sit within bad’s lap

like not on his lap, but more of in between his legs

he would have his arms around you

and his phone would be in front of you so you two could scroll through twt or instagram together

or you guys could watch skeppy’s youtube ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

rat would sit in your lap

she’s just;;;;;;;; so adorable

rat is just so soft and fuzzy in your lap and everytime you move to pet her she just melts

rat is the the superior cuddle buddy to any of these block people

p!skeppy:

skeppy, similar to quackity, is a total dork

he would make sure you guys were in a position where he could effectively troll you

so if your head was near his lap he would just flick you or some

“dude can you please stop hitting me in the head”

“it turns out i am not actually hitting you in your head because based on the perpendicularity of the bisector multiplied by the photosynthesis of the dividend, it is impossible for me to do so”

“wtf”

lya is so goddamn sick of you guys

she's trying to get him to actually do something but instead he’s just sitting there throwing paper airplanes at you while you sleep

he’s an annoying asshole but it's okay because he gives you money for absurd reasons

p!eret:

eret has such a comfortable presence

i feel like she wouldn’t be up for cuddling too much

more of like putting your head on a friends shoulder so you can see the tweet their showing you

but they do like to hold hands

holding hands isn’t very intimate but it's also just such a sweet comforting thing

she even holds your hand when you guys are out walking around

like if you guys were getting food somewhere (post-covid of course)

you most likely would get addressed as a couple

and he would just be like”...wut?”

it’s happened so many times at this point you just go along with it

“you guys look like such a cute couple!”

“oh we aren't-” “thank you!”

can you tell that i love eret?

p!philza:

phil always has such dad vibes

i feel like the closest he would get to cuddling is hugs and hand holding

even though cuddling isn’t inherently romantic, he is married to kristen

so i fell he would get most of his touch in with her

but with you he’s just so fatherly

hello dadza

whether you have a good or bad relationship with your father, everyone can admit that philza minecraft is dadza

this is such a dad thing, but tries to hold you hand when you cross the street

no matter the age, he just feels the need to protect you

hugs are similar

uses hugs as a way to comfort you and protect you

just so amazing all around

p!tubbo:

tubbo would love cuddling in any way, shape, or form

if you guys are hanging out at like the park or something and lying down

get ready to become this mans pillow

this is really fun to do with your friends but imagine you guys are hanging out in a field type area (with my friends we hand out in the field next to the cemetery but it can be any open grass area)

tubbo would just use your lap as a pillow the whole time

and when you guys were walking back to his house he would sorta drape his arms over your shoulders (assuming he’s taller than you)

he would do the same thing when you guys were sitting in chairs or at a desk

just drapes his arms over your shoulder with his chin on your head

if it's really late and he's tired he’ll just hug you

p!ranboo:

if you thought tubbo is bad, ranboo is even worse

not even really cuddling, he just likes having a sort of skin-to-skin contact

so handholding and laying on top of eachother

if he’s streaming he will legitimately message ou to just sit next to him

so sometimes if he’s just chilling by himself on the smp you’ll end up on his streams

he’ll have you next to him just because he likes be near someone

and so randomly it’ll just be like “chat, a real human is here, behave”

chat does not behave

(they heavily bully him)

he’s pretty clingy but when you HAVE to leave he’ll understand and just be a bit bummed out

holy shit this took me so long-

if you read this whole thing thank you!

#mcyt x reader #wilbur soot x reader #karl jacobs x reader #nihachu x reader #quackity x reader #dream x reader #georgenotfound x reader #sapnap x reader #tommyinnit x reader #badboyhalo x reader #skeppy x reader #eret x reader #philza x reader #tubbo x reader #ranboo x reader #kermie's headcanons #kermie spent so long on this and is dying

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soulwillower · 3 years

Text

semi-charming • bill denbrough

(bill denbrough x reader smut)

requested: Do you have any bill denbrough x reader’s that you have finished that can be posted? I really love your work I re read it like everyday lol :) + AKANSHAKAKMA U SHOULD POST THE BILL DENBROUGH HATE SMUT AHHHH + don’t be shy post the b.d hate smut 😀🔫🥰🌝

i haven’t posted a fic in well over several months but i hope u guys like it :) im here and around still so send me something if u wanna chat <3 i also have re opened my requests lkajsdlkaj

also - i gained a lot of new followers while i was gone and im sure some ppl want to be removed from my taglist SO: i am gonna start a new taglist!!! pls send me a message and let me know if you want to be on it bc after this post im starting fresh !!!!!!!!!

warnings: drinking, mentions of weed, dorm living, almost-strangers hooking up, smut, choking (light), light spitting, a tiny bit of dirty talk, switch!bill, its kinda fluffy smut tbh, enemies-to-lovers but its so lowkey, kinda cute guys, neighbor-ish au,

(losers + reader are 19+.)

4.1k words

♡

the first time it happened, you wrote it off as unintentional.

it's happened to everyone: you're joking around with your roommate, or reaching over to grab your laptop, and you fall off your bed to the floor. you knock over your lamp or someone knocks over the handle that was sitting half-empty on the mini-fridge. the tile on the ground of the dorm rooms are hard and cold and don't do much to quiet the noise of anything, so you get that.

but whatever the hell was going on in the room above you was not that. it was three in the morning, and your head was spinning in that sickening way that only happens when you take too many drinks in a short time and find your way to bed for a few hours before being startled awake.

a loud thump made you jump in your bed, heart racing as you woke in surprise.

it was around twenty more loud thuds from your ceiling (in a span of barely two minutes) that you gathered the energy to slide out of your bed, sliding on your dorm slides and throwing on a shirt to cover your near naked body before storming into the hallway to climb the most challenging single story of stairs in your life, right to your upstairs neighbors' door.

your hand was banging on the door for a mere five seconds before the door swung open and a terribly confusing sight fell onto your eyes.

three boys who you've only ever seen in passing before in your dorm, all shirtless and heaving breaths. the one who answered the door, possibly bill or mike (judging by the stupid name tags on their door), has bright eyes and dark auburn hair that reflects in the dim light of the hall, backlit by the neon purple from inside the room. his sweaty bare abdomen made your eyes twitch as you glared at him, suddenly more irritated because he's kind of really hot and stupid and annoying, and you needed to sleep.

"hi.” he said casually, and you could tell he wasn’t entirely sober, either.

“so what is your fucking problem?" you said in lieu of a greeting, half-asleep and pissed beyond belief (also still drunk). the boy who answered the door raised his brows, head turning with a brow raised, as if to ask his buddies 'are they for real?' before turning back with a large, cocky smile, "pardon you? we already turned down the music."

you blinked, knowing you must have seemed so rude and looked insane but it was a weeknight and you had class in the morning, "wh- what, no- i'm not here about music. it's like three, you're slamming on the floor and i can hear it like i'm in a fucking tornado in my room below you so you need to knock it off."

then the other boy, further back with foggy glasses, started laughing. the other one laughed too, rubbing his neck sheepishly, still breathing heavy. "what the hell are you guys even doing in there?" you added, running a hand through your hair in exasperation.

"they were trying to bench press me. but then bill decided to start doing squat jumps onto his bed." the boy with glasses explained as he rubbed his chest, still concealed by the darkness of the room, illuminated only by the stupid LED neon lights that every single person in the dorms had lining their rooms. that explained the thudding.

"why." you'd deadpanned. you were too tired for this, but you'd wanted them to understand that it was keeping people up. "richie got us kicked out of Pike for stealing their doorknobs and pledge class photos." the third boy says, elbowing the boy, richie. "we felt like working out, but then richie said we couldnt press him, so..." he trails off at the look you give.

"you want my workout routine or something?" richie asks you. you sharply inhale and bill smiles, "well, if that's all, we'll be going. i've got one more rep to get in."

your eyes widened, jaw dropping at his words. he'd laughed, then, and your eyes couldn't stop as you stared at his sculpted abs flex in the light. god damn it.

"chill out, neighbor. sorry to wake you from your beauty sleep." he said as he noticed your look, and you wanted to fucking hit him.

you rolled your eyes, picking up on his facetious tone. "whatever. just knock it off. thanks," you'd griped, sarcastically smiling at them before trudging away towards the stairwell. and you'd caught it when bill muttered, "is now a bad time to assemble my ikea desk with my drill?"

you'd run into bill once again a few days after when you'd gone to use the bathroom on the floor above you where your friend lived, washing out the bowl you'd used for lunch. a 'shh!' had made your brows furrow as you'd walked in, not paying attention as you'd heard a shower stop and a girl laugh from the other side of the bathrooms.

but a deep voice grunting 'ow, fuck' made you freeze and then feel hot, wondering what kind of luck you have to be in the bathroom when some people were hooking up in the shower. but you're reminded that you had the worst luck when you go to leave the bathroom and two figures round the corner, hair soaking wet and hoods pulled over their heads. making eye contact with him, he must've seen how flustered and irritated you were, because he cracked a grin, "good to see you again, neighbor. you sleeping well these days?"

that was only a few days ago. you'd seen him in passing at a party at one of the frats, but had avoided any interaction with him after you saw him and his friend with the glasses snickering to themselves after sneaking looks to you. god, you didn't want to face them again - they were so mocking, so cocky.... so rude, and they made you feel like you were being insane just for wanting to have peaceful sleep. bill was not your favorite person.

but as bad as the first two experiences were, the third time you had the misfortune of interacting with bill, it was the worst.

your roommate was out for the weekend, and you'd found yourself stuck with your leg and ankle pinned between your heavy file cabinet under your bed and your bedframe, unable to scoot it over on your own to free your leg.

you were planning on relaxing tonight, after being stood up from a booty call hook up. you’re mad, frustrated, horny, and close to tears now that you’ve gotten yourself stuck pinned to your bed.

it’s nearly one in the morning, and nobody’s in the hall.

but then, bill walked past your open door as you struggled, and desperately you called, "hey!"

his double-take into your room, his head poking in, would have been charming if the face was anybody but him.

"what?" he asks, suddenly noticing it’s you. his voice is not charming and calm as you've seen him be with other peers, but in your stubborn mind, you convince yourself it’s fine; you don’t like him, either.

"i'm stuck, can you help?" you say despite your thoughts.

he sighs, dropping his backpack next to your bed and then tugging to try and move the cabinet.

"how did you do this?" he mutters as he pulls as hard as he can to pull it, but your shoe is too wedged diagonally against the floor, cabinet and frame. you sigh, "thought i could nudge it to the side with my toes, i dropped my dab through the crack."

he chuckles, trying to instead shove it backwards instead; to no avail. "smart girl." he says sarcastically, and you roll your eyes, trying to help him shove it. "what was the point of you keeping me up all fucking night if you aren't strong enough to move this shit?" you say, exasperated because it's starting to dig into your calf.

he stops, rolling his eyes at you. "has anyone ever told you that you can be a bit rude?" he asks, moving closer to you to try and push it away. you look down at him from where you stand, elbows on your mattress. "no. you're just a dick. fight fire with fire, or whatever." you mutter, face feeling hot.

you can't stop staring at his shoulders, his arms - they're so hot, the veins popping out of his hands and forearms, the smell of his aftershave wafting into your nose from where he kneels next to you.

he just hums. "i'm going to try to push your leg forward and then push the cabinet away." he states, and you nod, just wanted this nightmare to be over. you're still terribly embarrassed and the proximity to such a hot and confusingly irritating boy is making you lose your grip.

it takes a lot in you to not jolt when his warm hand wraps around your bare leg and starts to pull you, his strong hold on you making you tingle. "what's your name?" he asks, and you almost laugh as his grip on your thigh tightens, the feeling of his fingers wrapped around your skin making you hot. this is insane. "y/n." you struggle out, throat feeling dry - there's no reason his hand needs to be so high up on your leg, but some part of you really wants it. "it says that on my door." you say breathlessly.

whatever he was going to reply with is cut off as he tries to readjust his grip on you and the cabinet, but his hand slides up and grazes the skin near the apex of your thigh, coaxing a sharp gasp to fall from your mouth.

he turns red, looking up at you, "god, sorry." he mutters, and you bite your lip, unable to look away.

you kind of forget to say anything, stuck staring at him, heart thumping as wetness pools between your legs just from this boy's touch. god, you've got to get laid.

his arm is wrapped around the onside of your leg, thumb reaching higher on your thigh than his other fingers, and for a moment you hesitate before deciding to go for it: you drop your hand hand to his hair, pulling lightly as you 'steady yourself,' smirking as you feel his shaky breath against your thigh.

you don't even care about getting unstuck now, all you can think about is being fucked into the mattress by this asshole boy from the fourth floor. you’re not sure where this feeling came from.

when he finally pushes the cabinet away, causing you to stumble to catch your ground. he helps you get the cart and then push the cabinet back, awkward small talk making you want to die. "why were you down here anyways?" you ask, rubbing your leg. "mike kicked me out to be with a girl and all my friends are out for tonight." he sighs, rubbing his neck. "i have to do homework tonight, just going to find somewhere quiet to get it done."

"that's surprisingly responsible." you say, looking at him wearily. he gives you an annoyed look, "what's that supposed to mean?" you roll your eyes, "you don't seem particularly academically motivated." you state, unsure if you're coming across as flirtatious or just a dick. he gives you a look as he moves to grab his things from next to your bed. "you seem more pleasure motivated."

you catch your mistake immediately - and he does, too, smirking. you stutter to fix it, "don't be gross." you defend weakly.

he's biting his lip and something rumbles in your chest, flames in your abdomen. it's hard to gauge if you don't like him or if you do. maybe you're just horny.

"i thought you were cute, you know, until you showed up at three in the morning to chew me out." he mutters, eyebrows raised, "i get that that was annoying, but it was a saturday. everyone was drunk, i don't get why you are still being a bitch." his face drops when he says that, as if he didn't mean to say it at all, but he doesn't take it back. you shrug, not too offended. he kind of has a point, "i don't get why you have to make everything so much harder than it has to be. doesn't matter how hot you are, i don't have to like you, you know." you say, crossing your arms with a smirk.

"believe me, i'd rather you not like me." he says, smile on his face troubling. you look at him, trying to gauge why you're feeling so flustered, why you want to jump his bones right now no matter how annoying he is. "then why haven't you left yet?" you challenge. you figure if you're reading his actions wrong, this gives him an out.

"because i kind of want to fuck you now." he says boldly. you just smirk, walking towards where he sits on your desk chair, lowering yourself to straddle him. he looks up at you, eyes large and mischievous as he pulls you down on him all the way, your hips grinding lightly. "i think you want to fuck me always." you whisper, lips hovering above his, teasing. you're eating up all his attention, soaking it up and savoring the way he watches you.

you boldly snake your hand down between the two of you, lips still refusing to touch his, your hand starting to tease his clothed cock as it hardens under your palm. you stroke him as you lean, almost kissing him before pulling away. he glares at you.

then you move your hips, the tension in your room killing you. he lets out a half-moan, causing you to buck your hips again, relishing in the pleasure it gives you. he leans forward, trying to catch your lips, but your hand catches his chest, your lips just centimeters from his own. "fuck you, y/n." he says, fed up with your teasing as his hands squeeze your ass, moving to the bottom of your thighs and then rising with surprising ease, holding you against him and making your heart thump in shock. he takes four long strides towards your bed, tossing you on it. you grin, expecting for him to climb onto you, but instead he's walking towards your door, making your heart quicken. is he leaving?

he slams your door shut, though, and it makes you smirk as he clicks the lock. you're on your back, the sight of him upside down making you bite your lip, eyes nearly even with the bulge in his sweatpants.

he walks up to you, and you eye him as he bends forward, hand catching your chin, holding your head forward with a strength you didn't expect. "look at me." he says suddenly. you blink, feeling hot as you stare into his eyes.

"don't tease me." he says, and you swallow, heart racing in excitement. "okay." you croak, and it seems to satisfy him because he tilts your neck from here he holds your neck and chin, kissing you soundly on your lips. you feel on fire at his touch, squirming as you slip your hands into his hair - it's making you so needy that he's holding you, almost trapped on the mattress, kissing him upside down.

he pulls away and you flip around, allowing for him to climb onto the bed, barely enough time before you pull him in for another kiss, this one heated and desperate.

he bites marks on your neck as your hands palm him, pushing your own thighs together in need. slowly, you push him down against your mattress and sling a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. his hands find your hips easily, looking at you like you're the only thing ever worth looking at; your breath leaves your lungs and you steady yourself, the reality of how fucking beautiful bill is hitting you at once.

you pull his shirt off, yours coming off, leaving you in just your shorts and underwear. he palms your tits, pinching your nipple as you grind down against his cock, whimpering at the feeling of his pants against your clothed clit. "if only you'd come up to my room like this." he says, and you snap your eyes to his, seeing the teasing grin but glaring at him. "maybe you would've been nicer to me if you knew how good i'd make you feel." he whispers as you resume your hip's movement, "shut up, bill." you hiss. he laughs, his thumb making contact with your clit takes you by surprise and you jump a bit, moaning quietly as your eyes close in pleasure.

"take these off." he mutters into your mouth as you bite his bottom lip. you take off your shorts, quickly resuming your spot straddling him, his lips trailing from your breasts to your throat and then your mouth again, grinding against him in need. he toys with your slit over your panties before he pulls them slowly to the side, spreading your juices on his long fingers, humming as he brings his fingers to his lips, watching you as he licks his fingers. you nearly moan, impatient enough that you kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips faintly; "do you want me?" you whisper against his lips.

"i wish i didn't," he says, "but yes. do you want to do this?"

you're breathless, beside yourself with need, "yes." you say quickly, tugging his sweats off and tossing them to the floor. "fuck you, by the way." you spit, flipping him off. he grins and it's fucking beautiful, his smirk, his red cheeks, heaving chest. budding hickeys bloom over his neck and chest as he catches your hand, tugging you forward over him, whispering, "you're about to."

you roll your eyes, ignoring the butterflies in your chest, hand falling over his as he pumps himself. your thumb swipes over his tip, spreading his precum before opening the condom he'd pulled out of his pocket (you don't even want to know why he brought one with him to study) and roll it onto his cock.

and then you’re pushing aside your panties and stabilizing yourself on bill’s chest. you line yourself up on him and look to him for one last confirmation. he nods, “quick fucking around, babe.” he says, but his voice sounds desperate and his cheeks are flushed and you let out a strangled moan as you sink onto him, the nickname making your stomach flutter. you have to stay and give yourself time to adjust to his size, his moans swallowed by your own mouth as your tongue swipes his. his hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, your ass, your breasts and then rising to cup your neck and back.

“shit, bill.” you whimper as you slowly start to move up and down. his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim, his hands falling to your hips. your eyes watch his thin necklace shine in the faint light from your lamp and he's filling you up perfectly.

he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss his neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers grip the sides of your thighs.

“fuck, y/n.” he whispers, staring at you with his lips caught between his teeth. the feeling of him stretching inside you and hitting the perfect spot has your legs shaking already, breathing heavily. he’s soon surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arms rising to your waist to hold you as you move.

"you're much better when you're not talking." you mutter as you fuck yourself on him, moving your hips as you bounce. he rolls his eyes, "i'd fuck you every day if it meant you wouldn't come ruin my fun every night." he quips back, eyes challenging. and your hand rises to squeeze around his throat, at first as a joke, but then he smiles brightly, a smirk that stirs something in you and you squeeze ever so slightly, the feeling of his pulse making you moan.

his smirk sends butterflies through your stomach, pleasure swirling in your core. but then his own hand rises to your own throat, squeezing lightly.

you moan, unable to keep it together. "you think two can't play this game, y/n? it's like you don't know me." he tuts, seemingly pleased as you're flushing, gasping as your legs stutter, his hips moving up to meet yours, strokes hitting you deep. “i don’t,” you whisper, and he hums.

your legs stutter after one particularly satisfying thrust and he grabs your hips, lifting slightly and biting his lip as he starts to thrust up into you. “oh, my god,” you moan as he hits your g spot and he curses under his breath.

your hand comes up to rest on the wall behind him as you meet each other half way, hitting a spot deep inside you that has you moaning his name loud enough for anyone to hear. you hope to god your next door neighbors are out.

he presses his lips to yours and you know its to get you to stop being so loud - it makes your toes curl in pleasure. then his thumb snakes its way to your lips, his grin widening when your lips immediately part and suck on the finger, humming around it as your hand rests on his neck, the other over his abs as you bounce.

"so pretty like this, y/n." he leans up, then, sitting up more and changing the angle, making you gasp with a moan as his hand snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to his face with the hand on your face. he pulls his thumb from your mouth with a light pop, your legs barely riding him at your proximity, instead steady on his hips, his cock warm and stretching you. "do you think you'd look pretty under me?" he asks. you swallow, moving your hips again and sliding on his cock, movements making you stare at him, pleasure building.

"i think you would." he whispers, hand still on your neck. you whimper a bit, sliding off of him, allowing him to climb over you, kissing you soundly before pulling you to the edge of your bed, legs hanging off as he stands in front of you. lifting one leg, he kisses your knee and holds it up as he teases your slit with his cock before sliding into you again, causing you to let out a loud moan, his own melding with yours.

your eyes roll back at the new angle, legs shaking as his fingers dig into your thigh. “wanna see your f-face when i make you cum.“ he mutters, hand rising to thumb your lip, dragging your bottom lip down.

"you think you're gonna make me cum?" you bite, knowing no man you've been with has been able to.

you watch as his eyes admire the half-lids of your eyes, the blissed, fucked-out look on your face. your chest is littered in blossoming hickes, varying from pink to dark red and slightly purple already.

he says nothing in response to you, but pulls your leg further open, spitting down onto your cunt, making you moan lightly, the action being terribly sexy. his thumb finds your clit and starts to rub perfectly in counteraction to his thrusts, his lips finding your nipple.

you gasp in pleasure, panting as you start to wonder if he really is going to make you cum. then his thumb rubs circles on your clit and as he presses lightly, you can’t hold off any longer. “fuck,” you hiss as you hit your peak, your orgasm making your legs shake. you can’t help it, gasping and bucking your hips as you clench against his cock in bliss, your orgasm causing you to tug his hair in ecstasy. “so pretty.” he mutters against your neck, pressing kisses to it as you’re moaning and arching your back. "so good, cumming for me." he says cockily. you're panting as you whisper, "shut up," his hips still pounding into yours.

“god, you're such a sweet talker.” he mutters sarcastically as you look at him desperately, his eyes fall shut in bliss, a deep groan leaving his lips, you can tell he's close.

"and you're such a gentleman." you jest back, pulling him closer by his shoulders, eyes shutting in bliss. he hums, strokes getting sloppier, "i let you cum first, didn't i?" he counters.

you huff a laugh, something in your heart twinging in affection. you kiss him so you don't say something stupid, moving your hips with his. a few strokes and he's pulling you closer to him by your back, whimpering into your mouth, “y/n, fuck.” beautiful moans fall from his cherry colored lips as he cums, and you just stare at him in awe, surprised by how hot it is as he says your name. he rides his high and then falls off of you, onto the mattress between you and the wall.

"hey," he says after a few moments of you both catching your breaths, your hands overlapping on your stomach but not nearly holding hands. it makes you feel warm in a weird way. excited, nervous.

"what?" you ask, turning to stare into his eyes. he smirks, "you think we woke up the downstairs neighbors?" he whispers, eyes alight with tease.

you shove him, smothering him with a pillow while he laughs, pulling you onto him.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew

#bill denbrough #bill denbrough smut #losers club x reader #losers club smut

681 notes · View notes

scuttling · 3 years

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Trophy Husband

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,188 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Dry humping, Unprotected sex, a lil Daddy kink Summary: Requested by anon: “maybe some dad bod hotch smut? like where he’s newly retired and hasn’t been working out as much and the reader worships his body bc he’s been feeling a little insecure” I love some dad bod Hotch, so happy to fill this request! Link to A03 or read below!

“No, we’re not doing forced overtime again. If you want my team to put out more consults, then we need to hire more profilers.” You walk through your front door and into the kitchen, smiling when you see Aaron standing over the stove, holding a wooden spoon and stirring something that smells amazing. “With all due respect, I’m not concerned about the budget, sir; if my people are as valuable as you stated, then I expect them to be taken care of.”

Aaron looks back at you, wrinkles his nose, and you make a motion with your hands—blah, blah, blah—which makes him chuckle.

“I agree completely, sir. That’s a great idea. If you send down the requisitions tomorrow, I’ll start interviewing on Monday. No, thank you. Good night.” You lock your phone, set your bag on the stool closest to you, and sigh. “Was it this hard to get stuff done when you were the unit chief?”

“No, it’s definitely harder now, but you make it look easy. And sexy,” he says with a smirk, and you walk over to him; he offers a taste of what he’s making—it looks like paella, and your stomach rumbles—and you lean in to take a bite off of the spoon, looking up at him and flicking your tongue over your lips. His eyes get dark.

Even after ten years of marriage, he’s so easy to get going, it’s almost unfair.

“Delicious, daddy, thank you.” You stand up fully, and he turns back to the stove; your arms wrap easily around his waist, cheek pressed to the soft, worn t-shirt that covers his back. “How was your day? Are you still enjoying the life of a trophy husband?” He snorts, muscles tensing enough that you can feel it where you rest.

“Hardly.” He was in such a good mood a moment ago that this feels like a complete 180; profiler or not, you know your husband, and something’s on his mind. You tighten your embrace, and he shrugs you off a little, and that is practically unheard of. You stand, take a step back to look at him.

“What’s wrong? You aren’t getting bored of retirement already, are you? It’s only been six months.” He sighs, shakes his head. You’re sure you look confused.

“No, retirement is fine; it’s great, actually, it’s not that.” Typical Aaron, always making you drag this shit out of him. For being so sweet and kind, he’s still not that great at being open, even though you make every effort to encourage it.

“What is it, sweetheart? Something is obviously bothering you; we should talk about it.” Another deep exhale, and he turns off the burner, moves the pan of food off of the heat, and turns to face you fully.

“I imagine you already know.” You shake your head, shrug, and he gestures to himself, to his body. You feel stupid, like there’s something you’re missing.

“Aaron, love of my life, I don’t have any idea what this means.” You mimic his previous motion, and he rolls his eyes, which you can’t stand, and he’s well aware of that. “You’ve got to give me more than that, or I can’t help.”

“You can’t help, it just… is.” He sighs, and his shoulders deflate. You move closer, to touch him, comfort him, but he takes a step back. “I know I’m not the ‘trophy husband’ you probably expected me to be. I know this isn’t what you signed up for.”

You do your best to put together these cryptic sentences, the hand gesture, and when realization finally dawns on you, you can’t help it: you laugh.

Aaron turns away, and you know that was shitty, feel instantly terrible, so you reach out to put a gentle hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, it’s just… you don’t think you’re hot anymore?” He turns to face you, looking at you like he’s tired of your shenanigans, which… after this long, he should be plenty used to them, so the look does nothing for you.

“I’ve gotten… soft, I think that’s obvious.” At that, you smirk a little, move your hands to the button on his jeans.

“Oh, I don’t think there’s anything soft about you, Aaron. Why don’t you let me put your cock in my mouth, and we’ll check again.”

“You wanted me to talk, I’m talking.” His tone is a little admonishing, and you kind of deserve it, so you stop being horny for a second and take a deep breath.

“You’re right. Sorry. So… you’re exercising less, because obviously you don’t need to be as fit anymore, since you’re not working. Am I following?” He nods his head. “Okay, and you’re feeling… insecure about the way your body looks now, because of it.”

“Yes. Especially when you, Unit Chief Hotchner, are kicking ass and looking fucking delicious doing it, and then you have to come home to me.”

It’s like a switch is flipped in you, at those words. Oh hell no.

“Hold on here. I don’t have to come home to you, I get to come home to you; every night I do, it’s like a dream come true, and on the nights I don’t get to come home to you, I dream about it. I dream about being in your arms—strong arms, always, even if they’re less defined—and I dream about making love to you and fucking you and everything in between. You: not the Aaron of two months ago or six months ago or five years ago. You.”

He looks your face over—you’re getting fired up and you know it, and it turns him on and you also know that—and then the two of you come together for a deep, desperate kiss. Your hands fist in his hair, his roughly grab your ass, and when you pull back for air he turns you so you’re bent over the counter, searches for the zipper of your skirt.

“No!” He freezes, then steps back, and you stand up, flushed. “I’m sorry, not no—just, not here.” He blows out a breath, and you kiss him softly, sorry you scared him. “It’s just that… I want to lay you back on our bed, completely naked, and I want to put my mouth and my hands on you, everywhere. I want you to see what your body does to me, exactly as it is right now. I get that that might make you feel a little vulnerable, but will you let me?” You press your lips to his again, put your hands gently on his face. “Let me, baby.”

He nods, and you take his hand, take him to your bedroom. He’s visibly nervous, so you move his hands to your body, let him strip you naked first. He always takes pleasure in this, whether he is ripping the buttons off your favorite blouse or softly mouthing at your thighs while he drags your panties down your legs, and tonight is no exception.

“So beautiful, baby,” he murmurs as he finds that zip and drags it down, helping you step out of the skirt. You kick off your heels, and he unbuttons your top—carefully, tonight—then unhooks your bra, pulls you close and kisses your neck and chest so deliciously you almost forget what brought you here.

You lick your lips, shake yourself from the haze of submission you always feel when his mouth is at your throat, and your hands flick open the button of his jeans, tug down the zipper, guide his pants to the floor. He steps out of them, and you kiss his mouth.

Your hands move up, to the hem of his t-shirt, but you do nothing. He smirks, pulls it over his head, because he knows you love that hot guy way of pulling a t-shirt off with one hand, and he happens to be a master of it. You do your best not to drool.

“Mmm. You know exactly what I like, Aaron. There’s nobody in this world who could turn me on like you, who could get me off like you.” He licks his lips, and you get on your knees, running your hands down his body as you go. “Toes to nose, you are exactly who and what I want. Don’t ever forget that.”

You start low, press your lips to the tops of his feet, then his ankles, his calves, his knees. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, but you keep moving up, slowly, until your hands find the waistband of his underwear and you pull them down. His cock springs up—this in particular is never a problem, no matter his age—and you kiss up his thighs and then rise to stand.

“Baby,” he breathes, and you lean up for a kiss, drop your panties. He grabs a fistful of your hair, takes another, rougher kiss, then releases you; you’re panting hard, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. God, he’s good. How could he ever doubt his sex appeal when he makes you this much of a horny, eager mess with just a kiss?

You guide him back to the bed because he’s too tall for you to reach everywhere standing up; you start at his right wrist, kiss your way to the crook of his elbow, over his biceps, to his shoulder. You trail your lips over his collarbone, his throat, pausing to nibble on his earlobes, to peck him on the tip of his nose.

“I love you so much, Aaron. You are and always will be perfect in my eyes. I barely even notice when you’re being a dick anymore,” you joke, and he laughs; steamy and sexy is really good, but it’s your favorite when he laughs.

You kiss down the other side of his neck, down his arm, but this time you bring his hand up and suck on his middle and ring fingers, taking them so deeply you can flick your tongue over his wedding ring. He groans, you groan, it’s really hot. Your pussy throbs.

“Fuck, baby.” You pull them out of your mouth with an innocent smile, and then straddle his legs, leaning forward to suck and bite kisses all over his stomach and hips, avoiding his cock altogether. “Oh, god, that feels so good,” he breathes, reaching for your hair, and you slide your arms up his chest, squeeze the muscles there that are softer, but still present, while you kiss wetly along his belly.

“Mmm,” you moan while you kiss, because you’re kind of… lined up tight against his thigh, and it feels really good.

You keep kissing, all over, sloppy, eager kisses, rubbing his chest and grinding against his thigh, and it’s a surprise to you both when you come, looking up at him with your mouth open and your nails digging into his skin.

“Holy fuck,” you sigh when you’re done—there’s no sugarcoating this—humping his leg, and he licks his lips, wraps his hands around your arms, and maneuvers you on onto your back, slides his cock easily inside you where you’re wet and warm. “Yes, Aaron.”

“Oh, baby. Fuck, I love you,” he groans, and he laces your fingers with his and tucks his face against your neck. You love when he gets like this, so desperate to come but so soft, so loving, and you squeeze him with your legs, push your body into his thrusts.

“Like that, honey, just like that,” you breathe, mouthing at his shoulder, your free hand clutching at his back. “Come inside me, daddy; pin me with your big body like you always do and come inside me. Love it, want it, need it.”

He moans into your throat, works his hips harder, faster, and you hold him when he comes, smoothing your palm over his skin. He looks down at you, and love shines in his eyes just like always; your heart melts a little. That’s something you’ll never get tired of seeing as long as you live.

He pulls out, replaces his cock with his fingers and brings you to orgasm again, still looking into your eyes, and he catches your last gasping moan with his lips.

You’re both tired after that, not as young as you used to be, and you pull him on top of your body again, a warm, reassuring weight; underneath him is your favorite place to be, always has been, always will be.

“Trophy husband,” you coo in his ear, scraping fingers through his hair. He chuckles softly, brushes his thumb over your lips.

“Badass wife.”

“Mm hmm, and don’t you forget it.” After a couple minutes, your stomach rumbles, and Aaron climbs off of you, returns with the whole pan of paella, two spoons, and a bottle of white wine. “No glasses?” you ask, teasing, sitting up against the pillows, and he shakes his head, wrinkles his nose.

“Nah, I like it better this way. My lips where your lips have been.” He leans in for a soft, slow, sultry kiss, and you sigh when it’s over, lean your head against his shoulder, and smile.

❤️ Taglist: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x female reader #request

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weirdos-am-i-right · 3 years

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Fuck Traveling// Pete Davidson x reader

Request from @annalayton19

Hi! I’m a new follower and I really like your stuff! Could I request a Pete Davidson x reader (angst to fluff) where Pete is on tour or filming away from home and the reader is left behind. After like 6 months of being apart Pete starts to get tired of the long distance and basically like done with it. And then he realizes his mistake and comes home to make it up to her! I’m sorry if that’s super long! Also if this imagine doesn’t interest you, then no sweat! Thank you so much in advance 💕

A/n: This took so much less time then I thought it would. Anyway, here you go, I really hope you like it!

Warning: angst, swearing, like one cigarettes

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Six months. Six months was an extremely long time to be away from someone you loved.

Y/n sat on the couch, a small pout on her lips. She looked at Pete—her boyfriend of a year—and frowned. “I wish I could go with you.” Pete frowns too, and sits down next to her.

“I know. I wish you were coming with me too. But hey, it’s only a couple of months, all right? I’ll be back before you know it.” He kissed her cheek.

“I just wish my contract would let me. You have no idea how annoying it is to not be able to do things because of freaking Marvel.” She groans, falling on her back with a slight ‘plop’.

“Well, because of freaking Marvel, you are one of the best actresses out there. And I know you’re going to kill it with filming. My tour isn’t even that cool. It’ll broke you to death.” He jokes, leaning back on the arm of the couch.

“Babe, you’re a comedian.”

“Oh right, I forgot.” He grabs her arm, and pulls her up into his chest. “I love you, okay?” He lifts her chin up, and kisses her. “So fucking much. We’ll face time everyday, I’ll call you every evening and wish you goodnight.”

“Okay.” She looked over a the clock, and sighed. “We have to go. Your flight is leaving soon.” He brushes hair behind her ear, bringing her eyes back to him.

“I love you. It’ll be over before you know it.”

“I love you, too.”

********

The car ride to the airport was long, and quiet. Pete was driving, he had one hand on the steering wheel, and one hand on Y/n’s leg, rubbing small circles into the center of her thigh.

She knew she was going to miss him so much, but she also knew she was going to be extremely busy with filming, so it wouldn’t be as bad.

Once they were at the gate, they tearfully hugged, and she kissed him. “All right, now get out of here. We’re not doing that rom-com turn back at the last second goodbye.” She laughed at him, tears steaming down her face a bit. He wiped one with his thumb, and kissed her again. “Love you. Now go, so I get to watch you walk away.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” She turns around, and starts walking back to her car. She knew he hated leaving her too, but he was a lot better at hiding emotions then she was, that was one of the only things she learned while dating him.

She got in her car, and put her head on her steering wheel.

She groans, and leans back. Starting her car, she pulled out of the airport, and drove home.

**********

The first few months were the worst. Y/n hated going to bed alone, the left side of the bed always cold.

She was filming almost every day, and seeing her co-workers and friends always cheered her up, after all she had been working with the same people for quite some time now, so she felt comfortable around them.

The fourth month was slowly becoming easier. She got use to coming home to no one there, and making dinner for herself. She still talked to Pete every day, texting him good morning, and Goodnight, and FaceTiming him a lot during the day.

Though she knew he loved her, she felt as though he was slightly pulling away. The FaceTime calls were short, and he never texted her back right away like he use to.

“And so, we we’re almost done with the shoot, so close I could practically taste the coffee in my trailer waiting for me, and then Kevin calls cut, and he makes us do the whole scene over again! I swear, I was about to strange that man. Ugh, I can’t wait til you come home. Only two more weeks, I can’t believe we made it.” Y/n rants, talking to Pete on the phone.

“Uh huh. Cool.” He wasn’t looking at her, instead his attention was somewhere else. Y/n frowns, tilting her head a bit.

“Pete…are, are you okay?” That seemed to catch his attention, and he finally looked at the screen.

“What? I’m fine.”

“Okay…you just seem so…different lately. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but you seem like you don’t have time for me anymore. Or if you do, you don’t like talking to me.” Pete scoffs.

“Of course I don’t have time for you right now. I’m in between shows, I’m driving to one as we speak. I mean, god forbid I get a minute to myself without my agents or you calling me.” Pete snapped.

“Wha-I’m just talking to you. If you didn’t want to, you could have said something.”

“That’s bullshit you would have thrown a fucking hissy fit or something.” He rolls his eyes.

“That’s not true. I understand when people are tired, believe me I would know.”

“Would you?”

“Yes!” She had tears stinging her eyes. “Of course I do, you’re forgetting what I do for a living. I work from 6 am to whenever we finish which most of the time is in the middle of the night. I have to re-do the same scene about ten times because RDJ won’t stop making jokes in the middle of the scene!”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot about your super-star actress life.”

“Why are you being so mean to me? I was only concerned about you.”

“Mean? What are you, five? I can’t-I can’t do this anymore.” She huffs, crossing her arms.

“What do you talking about? Are you breaking up with me?”

“Wh-”

“Because then fine. If you don’t want to be with me, I don’t have to take this shit. I’ll be with someone who, oh, I don’t know is actually here.”

“Oh that’s fucking rich, you know I can’t be there, don’t even do that.” She scoffs.

“I don’t care. You want to act like a petty bitch, I have no problem doing it right back.”

“No, I think you’re just a petty bitch.” She wipes her eye, and he laughs dryly. “Oh of course you’re crying.”

“Shut up. If you don’t want to be with me, fine. Go enjoy your show, Pete.” She hung up the phone, and turned off the ringer. She plugged it into her charger, and went into the bathroom, turning the shower on.

********

Pete rubbed his eyes, and took a drag of his cigarette. He knew he shouldn’t have snapped at her, it wasn’t her fault he was cranky, and needed to take it out on someone.

“I’m a dick.” He mumbles to himself, and bangs his steering wheel.

His phone rang again, and for a good second his heart leaping out of his chest, thinking it was his girlfriend, calling him back. He checked the phone, seeing it was Colson. He answered the call.

“What’s up, man?” Pete asks.

“The shows starting soon. You almost here?” Colson questioned. Pete looked at his google maps, seeing he was supposed to be there in ten minutes.

“I’m a good ten minutes away. I’ll be there.”

“You sound weird. What the fuck did you take without me?” Colson asks, trying to lighten the mood.

“Uh…Y/n and I just broke up. I think.” The line was silent for a few seconds.

“Why the fuck would you do that, you idiot? Are you kidding me?” Colson scoffs. “Man, what the fuck?”

“Shut up, man. I can’t stand talking on the phone with her. I’m busy, she’s busy, she plays a superhero for fuck’s sake. I didn’t even expect it to last this long to be honest.”

“Man, you fucking dumbass. That girl was probably the only good thing you had going for you. Get her the fuck back.I thought you loved her.”

“I did-I do. I do love her. I’m just so stressed right now, and excuse me for not wanting to hear about fucking Kevin Feige being a shitty director.”

“Hey, fuck-shit, you ever think that maybe this is more hard on her? Acting is fucking hard, you should know that, especially for a company like Marvel.

“Man, who’s side are you on?” Pete turns into the parking lot, and grabs his phone.

“You think I’m on your side here? You’re forgetting that we were friends before I met you. I can not believe you just fucked up the best thing in your life. Fix it, man. You’re going home in a week, fucking fix it.” And with that, Colson hung up, and put his phone away.

He kicked a rock across the pavement, and cursed under his breathe.

********

The worst thing about breaking up with someone you live with, who so happens to be long-distance is that their stuff fills the apartment with an existential amount of regret.

Y/n laid on her couch, flipping through the channels of the TV. She had called off work for the next few days, not feeling up to put on a performance for anyone. She knew she would get shit for it later, but she didn’t care.

Her head perked up when there was a knock on the door. She sighed, and got up, going over to the door. She really didn’t feel like company at the moment, and was sure she was going to send away whoever it was.

When she opened the door, her breathe caught in her throat. Pete stood in the doorway, looming over her. He looked like shit. She could tell he hadn’t slept, and probably didn’t eat anything, but she knew he didn’t look much better.

“Why-why didn’t you use your key?” Y/n asks, opening the door a bit for him.

“I uh, didn’t want to barge in on you. You also probably weren’t expecting me.”

“I wasn’t. I thought you didn’t get back until next week.” She says. It took every ounce of her not to jump into his arms, and kiss his face until she was sure she kissed every part of it.

“I took off early. Can we talk? Please. I was a dick. I was such a dick. I’m sorry, I know we grew apart in the last few months, and I promised we wouldn’t but we did, and I’m so sorry for that, baby.” He grabs her hand, and she slightly pulls it back, but let’s him grab it. “Please, forgive me. I love you, so much, okay? So fucking much, you’re the best thing that’s happened to me.”

She felt tears welling up in her eyes, and she looked away from him. “What you said really hurt.”

“I know. And I’ll spend every day trying to make it up to you.” She quickly wrapped her arms around him, pushing her face into his chest. He didn’t hesitate to hug her back, leaning down and kissing the top of her head. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Fuck traveling.”

“Fuck traveling.”

#pete davidson #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fanfiction #machine gun kelly #mgk imagine #angst

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pennylanefics · 3 years

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Our Daughter - Paul Lahote

a/n: my first paul fic!! i have another one that’s in progress and almost done :)

•••

Emily had taken you out for a shopping day, no boys, no pack drama, just you two hanging out. The problem was, you were currently six months pregnant, so walking around for a full day took a lot out of you.

Everything with the pack has been stressful recently, and your pregnancy hasn’t exactly been easy, so she thought you just needed a day to yourselves for some retail therapy. You did end up buying lots of clothes and things for your baby, which you happened to find out the sex of it at your doctor’s appointment that morning.

Finally, as it was rolling around four in the afternoon, you made it back to Paul’s house, that you moved into with him as soon as you found out you were pregnant. Being his imprintee and all, he wanted to protect the two of you more than anything, so living with him was the best way to do so.

“Ugh, I am so tired,” you groan to yourself, setting all of the bags down in your room next to the bed. Emily also offered to come over and cook dinner for you, since Paul and Sam were on patrol until five.

Soon, Emily walks into your house and sets out all of the ingredients.

“Do you need help with anything?” You ask her. Sensing your discomfort, she forces you to sit on the couch.

“Oh no, no. I kept you out all day, you need to rest.” You hug her thankfully and head to your room to lay in bed until dinner is ready.

Paul and Sam show up an hour later at Paul’s house, Sam greeting Emily with a multitude of kisses. Upon hearing Paul’s voice, you get up slowly, your feet still hurting and the swelling in your ankles increasing with every step.

“Hi babe,” you greet him with a smile. He smiles widely to greet you, but immediately, he can sense your pain.

“What’s wrong? What hurts? Did someone get you? What’s going on, darling?” He blurts out, his hands feeling around your body to find the area that was bothering you.

“Paul, I’m fine. My feet are just killing me because we’ve been walking around all day and I’m six months pregnant. Not exactly a good combo,” you chuckle. Paul obviously doesn’t take this lightly and brings you back to his room.

“Well, lay back down and I’ll get you some ice to help with the swelling, and I’ll also rub your feet, or your back, whatever you want. And we can have dinner in here. I want you to rest,” he babbles. You can’t help but giggle and grab his hands, keeping him calm in the moment.

“Babe, please calm down for just a second. I’m fine. I would still have swollen ankles if I wasn’t out walking all day. Plus my doctor says exercise is good.”

“Yeah, exercise isn’t walking around a shopping mall for five hours!”

“I didn’t just buy stuff for me, I bought stuff for our little girl!” You spoil. Your eyes go wide and your jaw drops. You were going to plan this whole thing for him to tell him the sex of your baby, but you ruined it all.

“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that yet, I-”

“We’re having a girl?” He wonders, the hurt and concern gone as the news is revealed.

“Yeah,” you laugh excitedly, cupping his cheeks and kissing him. He is still so in shock that when you pull away, his jaw drops.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe it,” he whispers against your lips, his forehead still on yours. “We’re having a girl.”

“I know.” You can’t help but begin to tear up at his reaction. You loved him so much and the imprinting made it so much stronger. Everything you felt for him was much more intensified. Seeing him so happy made your heart soar.

“You wanna see what I bought her?” You wonder. Paul nods enthusiastically and takes a seat on the bed while you grab the bag from the baby store.

You spend the next twenty minutes showing him all the baby clothes you got, going over what exactly made you want to get it and if it reminded you of anything. Paul let you talk and stayed quiet, a content look on his face as he listened.

You also showed him everything that you got for yourself, and Paul still didn’t mind one bit; he could listen to you talk for forever.

“Why don’t you lay back for now, alright?” He tells you, gently pushing you to lay down once you put all of the things you bought away.

“Baby, I said I’m okay.”

“I know you did, but I can tell you’re still in pain. And you deserve rest, you’re carrying our daughter,” a fond smile makes its way onto his face, his hand rubbing over your bump.

You sigh and give in, laying up against the pillows and kicking your legs out. Paul stays put beside you, his hand falling to your stomach.

“Hey, dinner’s ready,” Emily says from the other side of the door with a quiet knock. You start to get up, but Paul pushes you to remain laying down.

“I’ll get you a plate, just, please rest,” he begs. You grin and nod, eyes falling closed. When Paul finally leaves, you turn the TV on and relax for the first time in hours. Moments later, Paul returns with a plate in his hand and a glass of water. He sets the plate down on your lap and puts the glass on your bedside table.

He leaves once more to grab his own food, then finally settles into bed next to you.

“You know, you can go out there and eat with Sam and Emily,” you tell Paul. He shakes his head and kisses your temple after swallowing the bite of food in his mouth.

“I haven’t seen you all day, and I could use a break from Sam,” he groans. You giggle and smack his leg.

“Did you tell them the news yet?” He glances at you, confused.

“The news that you’re pregnant? I mean, if they don’t know by now, that’s on them,” he says. You smack his leg again.

“I meant that we’re having a girl.”

“Oh, no. But didn’t you tell Emily already? And I’m guessing Sam picked through my thoughts and found out, so why should we tell them again?”

“I didn’t tell Emily because I wanted you to be the first person to know, and because they deserve to know from us personally instead of Sam listening in on your thoughts.” Paul’s expression softens when you tell him the first part.

“Fine. But let’s wait a little longer. I wanna relish being the only one who knows.”

You two continue eating and when you finish, Paul helps you out of bed, being sure to keep an arm wrapped around you the entire time you walk to the kitchen.

“Babe, I’m fine, you can let me go,” you chuckle, pushing away from him to set your dishes in the sink.

“There’s some news we wanted to share,” Paul smiles at the two guests.

“Let me guess, (Y/N)’s pregnant,” Sam jokes. You giggle and rejoin your boyfriend’s side.

“Well, she’s pregnant with our daughter,” he says, smiling down at you before sharing a kiss.

Emily and Sam immediately congratulate the both of you with hugs and belly rubs.

After things calm down, Emily starts cleaning the dishes for you while Sam and Paul talk over some things and before you know it, you and Paul are left alone for the night.

“I need to take a shower,” you groan, standing up from the couch.

“Hey, hey. I’ll run you a bath instead,” he offers. You smile up at him.

“That sounds great. Would you join me then?” Paul smirks, many thoughts running through his head, but he knows you mean it in an innocent way.

“Of course, baby.”

After the tub was filled, the bubbles were added, bath salts were dissolved, soft music was playing from Paul’s phone, and candles were lit. He helped you get undressed and carefully step into the tub.

He got in moments later, laying behind you so you could lay against his chest. Instinctively, his hands cradled your belly, his head falling to your shoulder.

“I’m so excited for her to get here,” he whispers in your ear, placing soft kisses along the shell of it before moving onto your neck.

“She’s definitely going to be spoiled. I know you’re going to be an amazing father.”

“And you’re going to be such a great mother.”

The rest of the bath was very relaxing, Paul keeping his hands on your stomach, singing along softly in your ear, and giving your shoulder and neck kisses whenever he felt like it.

Once you both were dried off and ready for bed, you slip in a t-shirt of Paul’s, as it was much more comfy and roomy to sleep in. Paul admires you as you do so, waiting for you to lay next to him.

When you finally settle against his body, he wraps you in a hug, kissing all over your face.

“I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much,” he mumbles between each kiss. A loud giggle escapes your lips as his lips tickle your skin.

“Okay, okay! If you don’t stop, I am going to wet myself.” Upon hearing this, Paul stops right away and holds his hands up in defense.

“Alright. I don’t want that happening.”

“Blame our daughter, she’s pressing into my bladder constantly,” you chuckle.

Finally, Paul relaxes, lifting your shirt up to bare your bump, his warm hands running all over it. It’s a calming gesture, the mixture of his soft touch and his werewolf-heat allowing you to feel somewhat content.

“I want to name her Harlow,” Paul whispers, keeping his eyes on where your daughter was kicking at his hand.

He’s been thinking about names a lot recently, for both a boy and a girl. It was starting to annoy the pack that he was on patrol with. When nothing was going on, he would just run over names in his mind, trying to figure out what would fit best with both of your last names.

“Harlow,” you repeat the name. “Harlow Lahote.” Paul gazes up at you in shock. You two hadn’t talked about whether you would take his last name or not. Though you were his imprint, you weren’t married, and haven’t really been dating for too long, only a year so far.

“You want her to take my last name?” He confirms with a smile slowly tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Well yeah. I’m your imprint so obviously we’re going to be together for a long time. Doesn’t matter if we’re not married now, we’re going to get married in the future. I love you and I want her to have your...our last name.”

“Our last name, huh?” He smirks. “Are you saying you’ll marry me?”

“That’s me giving you the opportunity to propose,” you raise your eyebrows.

“Will you marry me?” He understands exactly what you want. “I don’t even have a ring though, so let me…” he stands to find something, but before he can successfully get anything that would work, you reach over to the tiny bag on your nightstand and produce a small box.

While shopping today, you and Emily got to talking about getting married. She gave you the idea of buying a band for Paul and proposing to him. At first, you were kind of on the fence about it, but after some thought, you didn’t see any harm in doing so.

“Babe?” You interrupt his searching. The sound of your voice makes him whip around back to you, his eyes widening when he sees the box open, with a simple black band inside.

“Will you marry me, Paul Lahote?” You ask with a teasing smile. For a moment, he’s upset that you’re actually proposing to him, but he soon gets over it and sits back down.

“Yes I will, my love,” he says with a huge grin. He kisses you sweetly, grabbing the back of your neck to keep you close.

“Can’t believe you beat me,” he feigns sadness, but soon breaks it with a laugh, pushing you to lay down so he can hover over you.

“Blame Emily. She’s the one who suggested it.” Paul shakes his head and kisses you once more.

“I think I’m missing an important part,” you interrupt. He raises his eyebrows at you, and you remove the ring from the box, patting his chest so he will sit up and off of you.

You take his left hand and slide the ring onto his finger, finding that it’s a perfect fit.

“Shit. I never thought I’d be the one proposed to, but damn, I get how women feel now,” he tells you, chuckling and turning the ring around his finger, examining how it looks.

“We’re not exactly a traditional couple, seeing as you are a wolf shapeshifter, so why not break more traditions?” You joke.

“I liked it. Sweet, to the point, and, we are by ourselves.”

“By ourselves and one unborn,” you add. Paul laughs and moves down your body so that he’s face to face with your stomach.

“Our beautiful baby girl. We can’t wait for you to get here,” he says to your bump. “Harlow Lily Lahote.”

“Harlow Lily Lahote,” you say the full name to yourself. Paul had just randomly chosen Lily just now, feeling like it went well together. His lips pepper kisses all over your bump, being ever so tender and loving.

“My girls. I can’t wait until our family is complete.”

#paul lahote #paul lahote imagines #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight #twilight new moon #twilight eclipse #twilight saga #wolf pack #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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kaihavoc · 2 years

Note

heyyy, could you write something fluffy with Puli??? anything at all. thanks already!

hi, anonie! I'm SO SO sorry it took a while to get back to you. I was overthinking writing this and just being hard on myself. but thank you so much for requesting something! I hope you like it! I'll always write for Puli because he has such a soft spot in my heart <3

~~~~~

You walk into your and Christian’s apartment, keys jingling impatiently from your fingertips before you toss them on the entryway table. You kick off your boots and enter the living room with an exhausted huff, wanting nothing more than to scarf down dinner and bury yourself in bed. It’d been a long day at work and you had done your best to keep your cool from 9 to 5, but now that you’re in the privacy of your own home, you’re about to snap. Especially when you see the mess Christian had made in the living room while you were away.

“Christian, baby, the living room is a mess,” you grit through your teeth, rubbing your temples with your eyes closed, unable to take in the chaos before you. “Will you please tidy up while I get started on dinner?”

When you get no response, you can’t help but glare at the hodgepodge of blankets and cushions strewn around the room.

“Christian,” you hiss, stressing his name so that he knows you’re serious. “I’m not in the mood for kiddish games tonight. I’m tired, I’m hungry and, quite frankly, I’m long overdue for some cuddles." You cross your arms, your lips pulling into a pout, fully expecting Christian to pop out of thin air and finally embrace you like he always does when he’s home before you are. But he doesn’t appear.

“Fine, if this is how you’re going to be,” you mutter under your breath, dropping to your hands and knees before crawling into the makeshift fort of bedsheets.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Christian reprimands, pushing your forehead with his index finger to force you out of the fort. “No password, no entry.”

“A password? Really?” You scowl at him. “What are we, five? Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if your brain never developed past pre-school.”

“Ouch, babe. That's harsh.” Christian clutches his heart and fakes a wounded expression, his brown curls dangling over his eyes. Sitting on tucked knees, he’s dressed simply in cotton shorts and a tank top, your favorite uniform on him -- second only to his Chelsea kit. With the way he looks, what you really want to do is twine your arms around his neck and kiss every last one of the freckles that dust his nose and cheeks. But by the way he’s acting, you would love nothing more than to smack him upside the head.

“Okay, what’s the stupid password?”

“I can't just tell you. You're supposed to know.”

“How am I supposed to know it if you don't tell me?” You growl.

“I’ll help you out. Here's a hint: it's a nickname I love to call you--”

"Pumpkin?"

"--and you love to hate," Christian finishes with a grin, his dimples deeply imprinted in his cheeks to prove his enjoyment in teasing you.

"Chipmunk," you answer automatically, frowning, not finding the amusement in any of this. Chipmunk. You earned that nickname on your very first date with Christian. You still harbored a smidge of baby fat back then and, in passing, Christian had mentioned how you were as cute as a chipmunk. He almost didn’t get a second date after that.

"You got it, chipmunk!" Christian cheers, yanking you inside the blanket fort and positioning you between his legs. Your back pressed his chest and his arms snugly around you, he inhales the scent of your hair. "I set all this up for us. Well, for you. I thought we could have a movie night. I ordered a pizza. Got all your favorite candy. I even made sure I got enough pillows and blankets so we’d be comfortable all night."

You turn your head to stare at him blankly, taking your boyfriend in with critical eyes.

"Or I can clean all this up like you asked me to when you first walked in,” he offers quickly, a pink tint settling over his freckles.

You shake your head, your lips curled into a small smile, your heart practically bursting with pure adoration for Christian. "No, no, this is perfect.”

“You sure?” Christian crinkles his nose, unbelieving. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re just... the cutest,” you sigh happily, tapping your fingers rhythmically on his muscular thigh. “So what movie are we watching?

“I was thinking Monsters Inc.?”

“Annnd the five-year-old is back.”

After Christian finally convinces you to watch Monsters Inc. with him (for the umpteenth time), you lay your head on his chest, dipping your leg in between his thighs, and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night. You two never detach from each other, not even to eat -- Christian fed you bites of the pepperoni pizza and opened all the candy bar wrappers for you.

By the time the movie is over, you’re sprawled over Christian’s chest on your stomach. You look up at him through your drooping eyelids, fighting your urge to pass out.

“I love you, Christian,” you whisper.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he mumbles back, his eyelids fluttering shut.

“No. I love you,” you repeat, incessant and firm despite your drowsy voice. “You make every day fun and you remind me what’s really important in life. Which isn't some job, but making time for the people you love."

“I'll always make time for you because I'll always love you,” Christian replies, brushing a passionate yet delicate kiss on your lips before the two of you nod off in each other's arms.

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic blurb #christian pulisic one shot #christian pulisic x reader #football blurb #football fanfic #footballer blurb #footballer imagine #football fanfiction #ask

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kingsansa · 2 years

Note

Pumpkin Eater + Ghost (but I am not sure if Ghost exists in that verse. If he doesn't, then anything you would like to write for that fic)

marlboro nights

words: 2,273

tags: modern setting, high school, fluff, making out, cuddling, pumpkin eater compliant, could be read as a stand-alone (ghost doesn’t exist here sorry)

Her toes steal underneath his sweatshirt for what feels like the millionth time, the ice cold press of her feet finding his lower back.

Jon’s had enough.

He reaches behind him to bat her feet away from him, only for her to kick him in his lower back in retaliation with a huff. He drops his controller.

When he bends over to pick it up, her feet sneak back underneath his shirt, triumphant in their victory.

“Well if you do end up doing it, you’d just be adding him back. He already did it first.”

It’s after school, and Sansa is on the phone, in his bed, wearing his shirt, killing time until she has to go to practice. When he told her to ask her mom if she could come over, he thought they’d finish their homework, pretend to watch a movie before they started making out, then make out, and cuddle afterwards.

Instead, she finished her homework in study hall earlier, so she had none, and after changing into her practice spandex shorts and his thrasher shirt he has no recollection of letting her borrow, she plopped into his bed and called Jeyne.

Instead of doing his homework, he’d gotten on his PS5 for the sole purpose of pissing her off because she hated when he even blinked at it if she was in the room, because it meant he wasn’t paying attention to her. But all he got in response was an eye roll, right before she stuck her AirPods in, and occasional bits and pieces of a conversation he didn’t really give a shit about hearing.

And now, her cold ass feet under his shirt every five minutes.

Jon pauses his game of assassins creed to get up. He snatches a pair of thick socks from his underwear drawer and slams it shut.

“So….you don’t wanna add him?”

Her knees are propped up and her toes are curled into the duvet, the only warmth available to her at the moment. She’d probably be warmer if she wasn’t wearing ridiculously tiny shorts.

But he likes her ridiculously tiny shorts, so he doesn’t point this out.

When Sansa realizes his intentions, her lower lip pokes out, but she doesn’t object when he lifts up her ankle and rests the heel of her foot on his chest, so he can roll a wooly sock over it.

Despite previous objections, she sighs at the newfound warmth, baby blue painted toes curling. She gives him a sheepish smile.

And despite his previous irritation, his heart stammers.

Jon kisses the cloth covered heel of her left foot, before he drops it in favor of her right.

“Oh he is definitely that cute,” Sansa declares.

Sock halfway onto her right foot, Jon freezes.

“Who?” He demands.

She takes out an airpod. “I’m speaking objectively.”

He scowls. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Sansa flaps a dismissive hand before popping her airpod back in.

Jon has half a mind to leave the sock exactly as it it, but he finishes rolling it on instead. Then he crawls up the bed to sit beside her. The conversation didn’t sound all that interesting before, but he’s listening now.

He crawls up the bed, closer to her.

She’s laying on his pillow, hair fanned out beneath her. One hand is playing with a loose thread hanging from the pillow case. The other is drumming fingers on top of her phone, laying on her stomach. Her gaze flicks toward him and she raises her brows, bringing her hand down so she can move her phone off to the side, as she parts her legs the tiniest bit.

Jon thinks about being petty. For a grand total of three seconds.

But then she’s extending her arms out to him expectantly, gazing up at him through her lashes so tenderly, and his heart actually trips over itself. Like he’s never looked her in the eye before, or something.

It’s embarrassing.

He concedes, but not happily, settling into the warmth of her body.

“I’m wearing my AirPods.” He hears her say. “He can’t hear anything.”

“You’re just gonna tell me anyway.” He mutters under his breath, still sulky.

Jon can practically hear her scowl, as she shoves at his shoulder. Oddly mollified, he doesn’t even flinch, pillowing his cheek against her chest, wrapping his arms around her waist. She lasts longer than he did, breaking a minute and a half in. One hand threads through his hair, dragging fingers lightly across his scalp while the other slips underneath the neck of his shirt to rub between his shoulder blades.

This.

He needed this.

“Nothing’s wrong with nice.” Her voice vibrates her chest, and his cheek nestled there.

She smells like him, his detergent clinging to the shirt she’s wearing. But underneath, she’s still all her. That perfume she’s always wearing with hints of lavender. Her citrus shampoo. He likes laying in the dip of her neck because he can smell both at the same time. Can listen to her breathing. Can taste her whenever he wants, because all it takes is a nip at her pulse for her mouth start chasing his.

There’s still a fading, paling bruise sucked into her collarbone from a couple days ago. Jon traces it with his finger in satisfaction.

Sansa squirms underneath him, breath catching. Fingers digging into his back.

“You could always—” he hears her swallow hard. “I don’t know. Ask him?”

Experimentally, he noses his way up her sternum, hands coming back to her sides, skimming up and down.

“I can’t promise anything.” She says, voice breathy.

Her nails scrape hard against his scalp. Goosebumps rise on his arm, but he isn’t deterred. He mouths at her collarbone, moving up and up.

Jon finds the meat of her pulse and sucks.

“I’ve gotta go. My mom’s calling me.” She squeaks out.“See you at practice! Bye.”

He lifts his head up from her neck to reach for her phone and hang up for her, not even bothering to hide his self satisfaction. Sansa watches him with a glare, scowling, both of which she really doesn’t mean because her legs are opening just a little wider, so she can get him closer.

“You are so—”

Jon cuts her off by hauling her into his arms, causing her to screech in surprise. Her legs hook around her waist for her own safety as he moves them further up the bed—his legs are starting to hang off—along with the pillow.

When he sets her back down on the pillow, she’s giggling so hard her cheeks are pink, and his chest feels like it has something fluttering in it, brushing against his sternum and the walls of his body.

He resumes their former position, his head finding her chest. “Pay attention to me.”

“Oh, so now you want my attention, Mr. Attitude?” She teases. But her fingers card through his hair all of the same.

Jon lifts his head. “What do you mean now?”

“I’ve been trying to cuddle you this whole time, and you’ve been pushing me away.”

“Putting your ice blocks on my back isn’t trying to cuddle me, it’s a form of physical torture—”

Scowling, Sansa tries to push up and away from him, but there’s nowhere to go. She shoves at his shoulder, and he holds on fast to her waist to keep her wear she is, unbudging.

“Okay, okay.” He turns his face into her body, smothering his laugh into her shirt. “I’m sorry. Hold me. I’m sorry.”

“Hold me.” She mocks him.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats, insistent, dragging his body up hers so that their noses are touching. “I’m sorry.”

She’s still pouting when he kisses her nose, but when his lips brush hers, she doesn’t shove him away.

He kisses the corner of her mouth first, just the edge. Then the Cupid’s bow of her mouth. Every kiss warms her up, little by little. When he finally kisses her for real, she makes a sound like a harrumph in the back of her throat, right before she kisses him back.

Kissing her always turns his brain into mush. Turns every thought into goo. All that matters is them. Her fingers sinking into his curls again. Her legs hooking around his waist. The soft rise and fall of her belly under his hands as he holds her close.

It matters a little too much.

He shifts his hips away from hers as discreetly as possible, and prays she doesn’t notice. She always gets so embarrassed whenever she does, and tries not to touch him afterwards, like she’s done something wrong. No matter how many times he tells her that she’s doing everything right, too right.

She isn’t ready yet. And that’s okay. He’ll wait for as long as she needs him to.

Jon drops his face to her neck, slowing things down.

Sansa kisses his temple, then his cheek. Then the scruff of his jaw, teasing, sensual kisses turning loud, puckered, and obnoxious, until he’s laughing, lifting his face up to hers again.

This time when he kisses her, it’s soft. Chaste. Quick.

“Are you gonna tell me who you called ‘definitely cute?’

Jon says it like he’s joking, but he isn’t really. And she knows that, which is why she rolls her eyes, trying and failing not to look amused.

“You’re ridiculous.” Sansa scoffs. “I was talking about Cley. Objectively. And I was agreeing with Jeyne. She thinks she might like him.”

Like most of their friends, Jon’s known Cley his entire life, practically. He didn’t really start befriending him until middle school, though. He’s on the basketball team with Robb. Also like Robb, he’s one of those people that’s so likable, it’s grating on the nerves. Despite this, Jon does like him.

Jeyne, though? Not so much.

Not at all, really.

“Either she likes him or she doesn’t.” He mutters.

“She likes him. She just doesn’t wanna get hurt, again.” Her hand in his hair tightens, and Sansa stares at him seriously. “You can’t tell anyone I told you that.”

“Who am I gonna tell?”

“Promise.”

Her hand leaves his head so that she can stick her pinky out toward him beseechingly.

Jon sighs.

“Promise.” He links pinkies with her, then takes her hand and puts it back in his hair. She smiles at that.

“So.” She hedges, pushing his curls out of his face.

“So.” His voice is muffled, because he’s got his face buried in her chest again.

“So…can you ask Cley if he likes her?”

Jon makes a noise that’s a cross between a gag and a groan, not even bothering to lift his head.

“He’s giving her mixed signals.” Sansa rushes on, “If you could just talk to him—”

“She should just ask him herself!” He argues, head up. “He’s gonna know you asked me to ask him anyway because he knows I’d never give a shit.”

“Then pretend to give a shit!”

Jon makes another gag like groan, going to lay back down, but she forces him to keep his head up, her brow creasing stubbornly.

“Please?”

“Why not ask Robb?”

“Because if Robb knew Cley liked Jeyne, he’d go missing, and his parents would never find his body. You know that.” Sansa retorts. “Especially after what happened with Theon.”

He does. He wishes he didn’t, so he could feign ignorance for just a moment longer.

But she’s pouting at him, giving him those eyes—wide, blue, and pleading, and Jon doesn’t know how her parents manage to say no to her so often.

He wishes they’d give him some tips.

“Please?”

Jon inhales, long suffering and hard.

“Fine.” He mumbles,

Just like that, her entire face is lighting up again, like someone flipped a switch. She beams, leaning forward to give him a kiss, and Jon turns away, face back in her chest, grumbling. That doesn’t stop her. She kisses the top of his head over and over again, hands rubbing up and down her back until his resolve weakens, and he allows a kiss on his temple.

“I love you.” She says in a sing song voice.

It’s humiliating, the way his heart lurches into a free fall, plummeting toward his gut, every time he hears it.

“I love you too,” He mutters back, begrudging.

Its taking everything inside of him to hold strong and not go back for another kiss when he hears his door swing open.

He raises his head, thinking it might be his mom, asking if they’re hungry again, or Jojen spying on them on her behalf, but it’s only Meera, half dressed for soccer practice.

“I didn’t know you were here.” Meera says to Sansa. No hi, no apology for barging in, no acknowledgement of her own brother. “Did you watch the tik tok i sent you?”

“As you can see, I’m being held hostage,” Sansa spreads her arms out to show the way he’s sprawled over her body. “So no.”

Jon reaches up to put her hands back in his hair, tells Meera, “Go away.”

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? Call mom?” Meera challenges. “You’re not even supposed to have the door closed. You’re lucky she went to the store.”

Then, much to his horror, she plops into his bed, shoving at him. “Move over.” Then she’s taking out her phone. “Look. We have to do this one…”

Jon opens his mouth to complain, but Sansa slips a hand underneath the neckline of his shirt, dragging a hand up and down and he decides not to say anything so long as she keeps doing that.

He lays back down, content.

#ficlet #pumpkin eater #jonsa #Jon x sansa

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kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂!

izuku midoriya | tw!guns, single mom!reader, bouncer!izuku, domestic stuffs, tit sucking, mommy!calling ah, AND daddy!calling oh my, breeding kink, breaking the bed (futon). minors dni!

— 5.4k words

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?”

The alley is dark.

There's a disconcerting feeling as you step deeper into the quiet darkness,

You turn to look at the door you entered this dank place from, but it's just as dark and grimy as the walls. You're almost positive that if you rested a hand against them, it would return pitch black, and if you stood in one spot for more than five minutes, the sticky booze would glue your heels to the floor. You're surprised when it doesn't.

"Hand over your wallet and no one gets hurt, pretty lady."

He's a smarmy looking bastard and as thin as they come. It’s clear this isn’t something he does on the regular, the pointed gun quivering so much you worry a trembling might slip and pull the trigger. And you fucking freeze, blood running below zero and heart plummeting because why you?

And fuck, you’ve got a kid at home with a babysitter, and there are many outcomes to this situation, none of them too cute.

"I said hand it over," he grunts, pressing forwards. Your back hits the grimy brick wall as your eyes dart to the mouth of the alley, where life continues, where cars race past, but no one sees a damn thing. Fuck. Fuck.

And it's not like you have much—hell, you may be a mother, but you know how to party. You squeeze your eyes shut, grip tightening around your purse as you clumsily fumble through it and the man steps closer. You toss all you have to his feet. A fucking twenty. He raises an eyebrow before eyeing your watch. He lets out an unimpressed snort.

"That it?"

You nod, taking a shaky step back.

"Well, that ain't fuckin' enough."

There's a click and you're positive it's him turning off the safety. His face twists like he's about to shoot a bullseye, and you squeeze your eyes as tight as they can go.

Until the looming shadow of the stranger disappears, followed by a sound that's distinctly skin on skin. Er—skin on bone.

You don't watch the fight. Frankly, you don't want to, and you still get to hear your protector spew a litany of curses and disrespectful phrases that should really only come from someone's mother. You don't even open your eyes, still screwed shut with a vice grip around your purse and wallet.

"Um, excuse me Miss? Are you alright?"

Your protector's eyes are much bigger than you expect them to be—and green. You realize you remember seeing those eyes, hardened from across the club.

He's hesitant to touch you, hands rising and falling and rising again. Though you suppose a hug seems like it'd be a little abrasive, it also sounds like the exact kind of thing you need right now.

"U-Um, yeah I'm..." you start, before noticing your attackers body bloodied and wrapped like a pretzel on the ground. "...Fine..."

He sounds like he's going to pass out—he doesn't.

"We should um, we should get you home," As he speaks, the greenette shuffles you out of the alley and into the streetlamp light, blinking himself out of something before holding a meaty hand out of formality. "I'm Izuku by the way. Izuku Midoriya."

For such a big guy, Izuku seems rather timid, and yet, seeing him at the entrance with crossed arms in a black tee and a scowl in the club doesn't give you much insight into his personality. Which makes you wonder why he became the club's bouncer in the first place.

"Um, nice to meet you," you nod, trying to suppress the shake in your hands as you take his. "Y/N."

Izuku smiles at that, and even though you're a regular, you've never actually seen him beam on the job. "Cool! Cool, so...um, I don't really feel comfortable letting you walk home...alone..."

You nod—he panics as if you aren't already on board.

"'Cause it's like, a conscience thing, you know? Like, I really won't be able to sleep tonight otherwise," Izuku defends, shoving a clumsy hand in his green curls. "B-But if you don't feel comfortable with it, or something, that's totally fine! I know what you just experienced was horrible, and you probably do—"

"Izuku."

"Yeah?" He perks up. It seems as if the circuit his mind runs finally comes to a stop.

"I'd...feel more comfortable if you walked me home. Too."

Your innards ache at the stiffness in both your voice and figure, but Izuku doesn't seem to notice. Instead, he beams, standing ten feet taller, and you think—yeah. You'd feel much safer if he did.

"O-Okay! Cool!" He confirms a bit stiff himself, and then, in a smoother motion, holds his hand out to take. "Shall we?"

Your red palm claps over his, and you snort quietly, "We shall."

You two walk in a surprisingly comfortable silence for the beginning of the walk—you lead the way and he silently trails behind, glaring daggers at any passerby with lingering eyes as you march on, unknowing.

"So um, do you come to Club 777 often?"

Which is a question you know he knows the answer to, completely aware you almost come every Saturday. But you smile at his attempt to start a conversation anyways, hands tucking underneath your armpits in search of warmth.

"Yeah, sometimes. Just trying to get out and stuff. Y'know, away from the kid."

"I get that," he nods with a smile, before tugging at the hem of his hoodie. "Oh! Are you cold? Here—wait, let me."

He shucks it over your head and your positive it messes up your hair. But you find that you don't care much, especially in favor of the warmth that it provides.

And then, "You have a kid?"

"Yep," you say, tucking your fists into the jacket pockets. "A big two-year-old potato waits for me back home."

"Oh," Izuku chortles at your description before tucking his hands into his jean pockets too. Licking his lips, his eyes dart to the street, "I...assume your boyfriend watches him for the night? Or husband or whoever."

"Uhm, not quite," you chuckle towards your feet, though it's a touch acrid. Izuku picks up on it immediately.

"Oh I'm so sorr—I didn't kno—"

"It's fine, Izuku really—"

"I—but I shouldn't even be assuming what if you had a wife or girlfriend or—" he takes a second to gasp, and your eyes widen in fear that he'll choke, "—or if they're nonbinary or—"

"Izuku," you knock him on the shoulder and he finally shuts up. "It's fine. I get it all the time."

He falters, but at least he seems to relax. "Really?"

"Yes," you giggle behind a hand, and the greenette smiles at it.

"O-Okay, cool."

Flecks of gold swim in Izuku's green irises and you find yourself noticing them now, suppressing the urge to advance closer for a better look. You stare long enough to watch his smile relax into a comfortable line, but you snap out of it once he kicks a rock, the sound of the gravel skittering across the floor tugging you out of your reverie.

"I'm not very good with kids, y'know," he says as an afterthought. You snort.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I mean," he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "Like what am I supposed to feed it? French fries?"

"Toddlers aren't it's, Izu." You can't tell if he flushes from the nickname or from what you said, but either way, it's enough to prompt another laugh. "And maybe start with baby food?"

"Ah," Izuku nods, and you guide him in turning a corner. "That would make sense.

"It would."

By the time you stop in front of your red front door, it's almost three am. You figure you caught Izuku right after he got off work, if the cheesy All Might sweatshirt you're wearing is any evidence of that, but either way, he looks like he's about to fall flat on his face.

"You can stay for the night, if you want," you offer, albeit meekly, and Izuku lifts two hands with insistence.

"Oh! No no no please, I'm fine," he shakes his head so quickly his curls bounce in a flurry, and you genuinely worry he's going to pass out when he tries to blink himself awake. "Just...not used to staying up this late is all."

"Then stay," you offer with a shrug, and your orange porch light flickers. "It's the least I can do. I've got a bed and a futon, and I'm fine with sleeping on either."

"I..." Izuku's green eyes flicker towards your door before back to you, "I really shouldn't. I'm a stranger an—"

"And I'm offering."

Izuku's eyebrows fold with the dilemma, but you grab his hand with a tug and a smile, while your free one shoves the keys into the door. "C'mon. Let's get you some rest, yeah?"

You can't tell if Izuku blushes or if it's just the lighting, but either way, his chest inflates in protest before deflating in resignation.

"Okay."

With a smile, you turn the doorknob. Your door has always taken some shoulder to get open, so you don't hesitate in shoving your collarbone into the hardwood. Izuku cringes at the sight.

"Mama!"

Your hit in the legs first, nearly stumbling back with a quiet oof. You look down to see Max wrapped around your legs like you're a fucking jungle gym, grinning with two missing teeth and a bandaid over his nose.

It's three am.

"I'm done," your babysitter grunts. "He doesn't listen when I tell him to bathe, eat, anything—I fucking quit."

And with that, they slam the door behind them, house rattling under the pressure. You sigh. There goes another one. Fuck.

"Well that wasn't very nice," Izuku grumbles under his breath disapprovingly. You smile at the arms crossed over his chest until Max peeks around your legs to see...

"A new daddy?"

"I—no, baby," you fight the embarrassment (and the urge to say you fucking wish) by picking the little one up by his armpits, smiling when he thrusts his hands in the air and goes weee! After he's comfortably cradled in your arms, you say, "He's just staying the night."

"Like daddy did!" Max defends with a giggle before rushing the greenette with open arms. Izuku just looks at you with a shrug before kneeling to take a hug to the chest as Max chants, "New daddy! New daddy!"

And, well. There's no stopping him now.

You peel your heels off your cramping feet and sigh at the fucking freedom, toes uncurling from the scrunched position it feels like they've been holding the entire night. You curse under your breath when you realize since Max is awake you've got to put him to bed too, and honestly, if you knew this babysitter was going to be just as useless as the others, you would've just let Max run fucking free while you lived life for a few hours. Not like that outcome would be any better.

"Alright Maxie, c'mon."

You take him away from his celebration with the greenette and though he pouts, he allows his mother to gather him in her arms.

"Do you um, need help?"

You turn to see Izuku awkwardly shifting in the doorway from the request, hands behind his back with pursed lips. You shake your head.

"Oh no, it's fine. I just have to put him down really quickly and then I'll be—"

"Mama, I'm hungry. I want chicken nuggies." Max loops his arms around your neck and tugs so hard you worry about your bones. You shake your head with a sigh and a pout.

"It's too late for you to be up, bud. You can have chicken nuggies for lunch tomorrow. Sound like a plan?"

But goodness. In this state, it'll take hours for him to relax—and you still have to unfold the futon for Izuku.

Max whines and kicks his legs but doesn't say no, meaning he's not really that hungry, he just wants to stay awake. "But—but what if new daddy's gone in the morning like the last one?"

Fuck.

"Max," you sigh, giving him a light shake so his matching eyes look into you yours. You speak a little softer, "Izuku's not your new daddy, okay? He's a houseguest."

Max's face drops. "Not eve—"

"No, Maxie," you sigh, squeezing him on the shoulder. "Now let's go to bed, okay?"

"I can—I can put him down if you'd like! So you can get into something more comfortable and stuff. I mean, I've never worn a dress but sweats are so much better, you know? Or shorts, or...whatever you wear to sleep."

You understand the many points he's trying to get across, one being that's he's not a creep, just a nice guy, and you suppose you and Max can live in your "new daddy" fantasy for a little longer. Even if you know this one will be gone by morning.

"Um, okay yeah," you say, voice a little thin, before handing your child over to the greenette—who bounces into his arms excitedly. "I'll be back, then? His room is down the hall to the right. The one with the race car bed."

Izuku's eyes narrow as he processes your directions. "Down the hall to the right—okay! I'll just go take this little guy to bed, then."

"Okay, thank you," you nearly bow, because Izuku just saved both of you so much time and he doesn't even understand how. "Oh! And good luck."

"Good...luck?"

"Yep!" You say with a wink and a pat on the back before scooping your heels and booking it back to your bedroom with a cackle. Time to get out of this dress. Fucking finally.

You realize that being alone is much more unsettling when you've had a gun held to your head today.

Every little noise just seems off, like it could belong to something more than it actually does, even the silence; you find yourself shoving your head through your t-shirt abnormally fast, eyes blinking to take a survey of the room to ensure that you're alone. You are. It's fine.

And that's what you tell yourself when you close your eyes to run a wet rag over your face, and again with the dry one. All of a sudden, you don't like the way your bathroom window faces the open backyard nor do you like how dark it is outside. You don't like how big your bed looks, and goddammit, you haven't even gotten into it yet.

Pushing all uneasy thoughts aside, you stumble out of your bedroom with a fresh face and a new outfit, stilling in Max's doorway when the greenette doesn't notice you. Resting against the frame with crossed arms, you smile.

"I do so like green eggs and ham! Thank you! Thank you, Sam-I-am. You know, when I was a kid I—oh, he's asleep."

Izuku tucks the snoring boy in his lap under the covers with a gentle grin, pulling them underneath his chin. The greenette takes a second, watches Max's chest rise and fall a few times, before ruffling the tuft of hair on his head with a snort, and walking away.

You don't even think Izuku sees you until he practically sashays out the door, winking, "Good luck, huh?"

To say you go red in the face from that is an understatement.

"How do you do this?"

"Do what?" You ask as you pulling the futon in your living room forwards. Izuku yawns before gesturing to the clock with a shake of his head.

"Take care of a kid, and work, and go to a bar every Saturday evening? It's four am, and something tells me you've been up for a while. I'm practically dead and I wake up at one pm every day!"

You chuckle at that, jumping on the bed with your hands and knees to ensure its lays flat...and ensure that it won't make an Izuku sandwich at seven in the morning. "You build up stamina after a while, I guess."

"No shit," he gestures to you as you utilize the entire length of your body to put the sheets on the mattress. He would help, but you told him no, insisting that he'd only make this take longer. "Are you sure you do—"

"Nope," you huff, clapping your hands together. "I'm done."

Izuku blinks at the made bed, to you, to the made bed again, and then back to you with wide eyes.

"Mommy magic."

"I—" you blink towards the ceiling to see if that even makes sense, but you figure fuck it, it's four am, with a snort. "Yeah, sure. Whatever you want to call it."

In reality, you feel like you're about to pass out.

"Um, so I don't really have pj pants and I don't think you'll have any that'll fit, so..."

"Yeah no, I definitely burned all the shit my ex left—"

"Aha okay, cool, um, so just boxers...are fine...?"

He looks down at his black jeans and back to you, raising an eyebrow. You toss a nonchalant shrug in return, and you hate to say it, but your inner school girl goes—dick outline.

"O-Okay, then," Izuku says, and you watch his hands curl around the waistband. "I'm just gonna—"

He shucks his pants so hard they hit the floor, and your eyes widen because...well...looks like he's just gonna do it then.

Until Izuku's hands rush to cover his crotch (which you weren't peeking at, you weren't) and you realize that maybe you should've stepped out of the room or something.

"U-Um—that was fast—"

"I thought—thought you were going to uhm, turn around," he flushes, a funny contrast to the way his muscles fold under that black shirt, and your feet move to turn around like he ordered you to do it.

"Sorry! So sorry," you try to apologize, but now his dick print is burned in your brain, and...it isn't that bad.

"It—It's fine! I'm in the bed now so, you can turn around."

You laugh awkwardly and scuffle to turn, as you do, and Izuku beams at you from the bed with a wave.

"Hi," he says, his lower half-tucked under the covers. You wave back.

"Hi."

Izuku's eyes dart to you living room tv before the come back to you. "So uhm, I guess this is goodnight?"

"Oh right," you perk up at that, hands rubbing the sides of your thighs like there's something on them. "Time to go to bed, right?"

"Uh, yeah!" He nods, chest shuddering before he says, "so uh, sweet dreams?"

You smile tight at the kind gesture, and your hands opt to pull at the hem of your shirt instead, eyes drifting to an old pile of records you haven't regarded in months. "Thanks! You...too?"

Izuku smiles, though his eyes drift, "Yeah..."

You beam back. You figure you should probably go now, or something, until you think of something and slam a fist into your palm. "Oh! Also, I meant to thank you for saving me. I'm not sure if I did that. Did I do that?"

The greenette shrugs, "Uh, I think so?"

"Okay! Okay. Cool," you nod, flashing a tight smile. "Mmk. Night Izuku."

"G'night."

And see, you would move—except it seems as if your feet are glued to the floor and won't move no matter how hard you try, to the point where it feels like your straining and they're going numb, and yet you're still staring at Izuku's pretty fucking face.

"C'mon," he chuckles, scooting over on the futon to make extra space for you. "If you take all day, the beds gonna get cold, and then I'm going to have to crawl into yours like a creep."

"Oh my fucking god," you snort one breath and move to flick off the lights before stumbling through the darkness for the futon. "You're so weird."

"Weird in a good way, I hope," he lifts the blanket and you slide under—and swear your knee grazes his before it's snatched away.

"There's no weird in a bad way," you say once you've settled comfortably, tucking your hands under your head as you lay on your stomach. Izuku mimics your position, though he takes up much more of the blanket, and you find that it drapes over you like a tent over his shoulders. Neither of you close your eyes, for some reason.

"Hi," Izuku whispers.

"Hi," you smile back.

"Okay," he huffs, face twisting in determination, "Now it's goodnight."

"Right," you nod, but your eyes don't close. "Goodnight. Of course."

"Don't let the bedbugs bite," he says with a chuckle, and you can't tell if his eyes flicker to your lips or if you imagine it. Either way, you look them just in case.

"I better not have bedbugs," you snort. "I clean this place like a motherfucker."

Izuku's nose twitches at that with a nod. Moonlight pours into your living room and colors his pale skin silver, though you figure it won't take the sun much longer to color it a strawberry pink. "You really do. It's...different when it's quiet."

"Yeah," you agree, placing your hands on his chest. It shudders under your palms. "Kinda personal, huh?"

"Mhm," he nods, and though his hands wrap around your wrists, they never pull them away. You lift an eyebrow.

"A bad personal?"

Izuku doesn't hesitate, breath nearly ghosting your lips as he says, "Hardly."

"Would you..." now it's your chests turn to shudder, and sliding a hand up to play with his ear, you bite the bullet. "Like to get more personal?"

Izuku's lips melt into a grin against yours, "I'd love to."

His lips are softer than you thought.

Maybe because you assumed all of him was a bumbling mess, including his chapstick application; but they're fucking pillow-soft, and you don't realize how deprived you are until his hold around your body turns from protective to sensual and you melt from his heat.

"Fuck," Izuku huffs between kisses, growling when your grip around his neck tightens. "Watching you from across the club for weeks can do a thing to a guy's patience, you know."

"Oh?" You snort as he presses enthusiastic open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, hot and wet, and painful once his teeth dig into your collarbone. "A-Ah, Izuku—no marks."

"O-Oh! Sorry," he pulls away, lips red and swollen, and shiny with spit. You smile at the reaction.

"'S okay, Baby," you giggle at the speed to which his muscles go lax, and his eyes droop to your chest when you scratch the back of his head.

"Can I—can I suck your tits?"

He asks so bashfully it's nearly innocent, and you find your eyes dropping to your chest along with his before you're ditching his All Might sweatshirt all together.

"God," Izuku's eyes flutter as he gathers your breasts in both palms, groaning at the sight. "They're fucking perfect."

You shudder as his thumb ghosts a nipple, and Izuku dips an experimental hand under your lacy bra and pinches. Hard.

Your thighs jolt and hands fist the sheets, and a moan comes from the back of your throat before you can stop it. Izuku's hand rocket to cover your mouth.

"Shh—you don't wanna wake him up, do you?"

You shake your head, but it's hard to keep quiet when your nipples are as sensitive as they are. Izuku doesn't seem like he really means that statement, though, lowering his head with a devilish grin as if he knows that for himself.

“Sensitive, Mommy?”

“O-Oh um,” you flush at the nickname, and even more so when his lips close around your nipple and suck. Tangling a hand in his hair, you sigh, “Yeah, a little.”

Izuku hums at that, eyes fluttering to watch you bite your bottom lip in a poor attempt to muffle a moan, hissing as his teeth dig into the hardened bud. He pulls off with a slurp and moves to the other, but not without a few kisses across your chest.

“When’s the last time someone touched you like this, hmm?” Izuku nearly growls out before biting into the opposite nipple, and you shudder as he dips a scarred hand down the waistband of your shorts and panties. He chuckles after sliding a finger through your slit. “So wet for me.”

“It—It’s been a second,” you sigh, grip tightening around his shoulders as he slides a finger in. Even Izuku has to bite a lip at your tightness in anticipation, mouth descending over your nipple once more to send frissons of fire up your spine.

“No shit,” he grunts around your nipple, curling his finger. You gasp. “Think I can fit another one in there?”

“Why don’t you try?” You giggle, but it dissipates into nothing but air as he does, his two fingers filling you up enough to elicit a sigh.

“How’s that?” He breathes, face hovering over yours. As your hands coil around his neck, his free one reaches for your inner thigh and pulls it back far enough to give him a better angle as he presses you into the mattress.

“Good, it’s good,” you nod, and your hips start to move on their own, bucking forwards as if there’s any more finger left for you to fuck. (Spoiler: there’s not.)

“Good,” he breathes, eyes going glossy as he watches you writhe under him. You're positive that you're carving painful red lines into his back, but considering the way his eyebrows fold every time you do, makes you wonder if he doesn't mind. "Fuck I can't wait to fuck you—I can fuck you, right?"

"No Izuku, I'm just letting you finger me for fu-u—fuck."

He slides in a third finger and for some reason, it burns a little—but the burn only makes your eyes roll further, and he's stuffing you with a chuckle.

"What was that?"

"I-I—you're not pla—playing very fair," you huff, chest shuddering as he tilts your hips higher for a better angle. You suppress a scream when his fingers curl, jolting forwards at such a speed it makes the futon creak. Izuku tightens his grip around your waist to keep you from going too far.

"No one said anything about being fair, Mommy," he teases, and you whine when he removes his fingers, tapping them against your lips. "C'mon, you gotta get 'em wet so I can fuck you, right?"

You nod at the idea, enjoying the idea of being filled up much more, and coat his fingers to the point where they're dripping when he pulls him out. Izuku's chest rumbles.

"So good for me," he purrs, using your spit to coat his cock before he's sliding his head between your folds—you shiver, grabbing onto his back again. "Ready?"

“Mhm,” you nod, spreading your legs further—though you swear they do that on their own.

“Oh my, you’re um...tight...”

You whimper from the stretch and look between your legs, eyes widening upon seeing that Izuku’s much bigger than you had anticipated. Or had been warned of.

“F-Fuck, I can’t—“

“Shhhh, it’s okay, just a little more, okay?” Izuku nearly whispers into your lips as his hands move to rub your shuddering sides. Your eyes screw shut, “Jus’ a little more, Mommy...”

Izuku pushes deeper and you’re being split in half—because what else could that burn be—but you’ll admit, the feeling of accomplishment you receive once he bottoms out is surreal.

“Good—Good girl,” Izuku’s nearly quivering and plants his hands on both sides of your head with a huff.

“I-Izu,” you whimper as he starts to move, feeling impossibly full no matter how far he pulls out. Izuku shudders, mouth rounding into an ‘o’ when his hips slowly start to gain rhythm, and though it’s loud, you know the creak of the futon is unavoidable. You squeal as his head hammers into your cervix, pulling out a wanton Daddy before you have half a mind to shut the fuck up. You nearly freeze, and yet, all Izuku’s hips do is speed up.

“Yeah? Want me to be your new Daddy?” He moans, and you dig your nails into his back with a nod. The greenette curses at that, biting his bottom lip and his hand drops between your legs to rub at your clit. With thighs seizing around his waist, you slam a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.

“Fuck—I make you feel that good, Mommy?” Izuku nearly wheezes, eyes suppressing the urge to screw closed, “So good you can’t keep your pretty mouth shut?”

“Y-Yeah, I—“ you gasp when he lifts your hips off the bed for a better angle, hands fisting the sheets. “Harder, Daddy—“

“Oh Mommy, if I go any harder I think I might break this bed,” he says, borderline bashful, but you find yourself saying fuck the bed as your hips buck in search of a feeling he refuses to give you. Izuku’s chuckle strains as he says, “So needy, Mommy. You that needy for my cum?”

Clawing at his back, you try your damnest to stutter out a yes. Izuku chuckles at your desperation before he cuts himself off with a groan, eyes rocketing to where you’re both connected as you tighten around him.

“F-Fill me up, I wanna—“

“You want another baby, Mommy?” Izuku pants, and you’re so close you start to feel a buzz in your thighs, praying he isn’t too far behind. You nod vehemently with a gasp and his lips slide into an exhausted smile, "Fuck, of course you do—and you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you? All of it.”

Izuku finishes his sentence with a growl, pressing you further into the mattress—it squeaks like a squeaky wheel, and when it thunks a level lower both of you yelp, the back of the futon thumping on your hardwood floor with each thrust.

“Told ya,” Izuku wheezes, eyes scrunching in a chuckle. You return it.

“It—It’s old anyway,” you reply, but your eyebrows fold as quickly as they unfold from the crash. The creaking futon increases in pitch as his hips pick up the pace, “Fuck—fuck Izuku I’m gonna cum.”

“What’s my name?” The greenette challenges, and you find yourself shivering at the dominance he exudes. The finger on your clit disappears and you whine, knowing damn well you can’t cum without it.

“Daddy—Daddy please—“

“Good—fuck, so good for me,” his hand returns to your clit and you sigh at the feeling. As the coil in your gut threatens to snap, his hips speed up, and Izuku pants, “We’re gonna cum together, yeah? Cum with me Mommy, c’mon—“

“Fuck!” You drag red lines down Izuku’s back as you quake under the weight of your orgasm, broken bed whining as Izuku thrusts all his weight into you. Digging his teeth into your shoulder, the greenette cums with a broken moan, hips stuttering into yours for the final time that night.

The room fills with a comfortable silence, minus the panting, and Izuku rolls onto the mattress next to you with a bounce. It creaks, whines, and then drops again, catching both you and the greenette by surprise. (Again.)

“I think—I think we broke it,” Izuku says towards the ceiling as he catches his breath. You giggle at that, hands laid across your sweaty stomach, and turn to him with your head in the pillow.

“Gives me an excuse to buy a new one,” you say with a shrug. Izuku chuckles back.

“I guess,” he teeters his head to both sides. “I can...also pitch in, if you want. Since I broke the thing. Technically.”

His offer sounds apprehensive as if he’s encroaching in your space, as if he hasn’t been all up in your space less than a minute ago. You smile. “I’d like that a lot, actually. Thanks.”

"And um, breakfast? I mean," he snorts, though it seems rather defensive, and his eyes rocket to the ticking clock on your wall. Your eyes follow: five am. "I mean—fuck um, I feel like this might be weird but I think you're cool? Um, yeah, so breakfast, I can make it if you want because you're so busy being motherly and stuff and plus, it's Sunday but again, if you don't wan—"

"Izuku," you giggle, wrapping your arms around his gut with a little squeeze. "Breakfast sounds nice."

The greenette beams and his chest stutters. "O-Okay cool! Cool, cool. Breakfast then?"

You snort, driving your palm into his face to shut him the fuck up. "Goodnight, Izuku."

Izuku giggles, getting the message, and coils his arms around your shoulders to provide a comfort you haven't felt in a very, very long time.

"G'night Mommy."

#— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 #CLUB 777 #izuku smut #bnha smut #mha smut #midoriya smut

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