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honestsycrets · 9 months

Text

mío | baby-fever!miguel o'hara x wifey!reader

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x wifey!reader, starved prequel

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | after watching mayday, miguel develops a bad case of baby fever, longing for a family of his own.

❛ tags | explicit, miguel has baby fever, babysitting, talk of family planning and contraception, f!reader, breeding, pregnancy kink, much fluff, some angst, starved!reader, miguel being frustrated and cute, clean that kitchen, one stereotype of latina women, Spanish is not translated, best friend!peter, self edited.

❛ request fulfilled | could you possibly write an imagine in which Miguel and his wife take care of mayday? + multiple requests for more starved reader/miguel.

❛ sy's notes | written to fulfill some requests. i do have another daddy miguel blurb to fulfill, but my future works should be nice and angsty.

Peter has it out for him.

It’s the only logical reason why he’d do this shit to him.

Miguel stood in his dark room in a pair of scratchy jeans, dragging a belt loop to loop when he heard the door to his room draw open. A resonant schwap, schwap, schwap.

“Mi reina?” Miguel cocked his eyebrow up, extending his claws.

“¿Sí?” you called back from the bathroom, the distant scent of his favorite perfume wafting into the air. Miguel threw a look to the bathroom, reaching for the bedroom door. It burst open before he could open it.

“Hi, Miguel! Where’s your wife?”

Peter dragged his feet into the room, whirling around with a sloppily put-together backpack that leaked diapers onto the floor. An exasperated breath left his lips, dripping in the way he looked at Peter.

Unfortunately, his little wife liked Peter a bit too much for his taste.

“I should have known.” Miguel ran his hand through his hair, strands of mocha brown flyaways wisping along his tawny forehead. “Why are you here?”

His normally disheveled appearance was a little more disheveled. It wasn’t his appearance that bothered him but how it reached his eyes. Shocked, confused, tired. Peter pat his deltoid, awkward laughter choking in his throat. It bubbled on the edge of an overwhelmed sob.

“Well, you see, your wife said she’d watch Mayday because I have a date, and I haven’t had a date in a really, really long time. Like, a really long time—”

“Is Peter here?”

His head snapped to your bathroom where you came out, threading a golden hoop earring. You probably already knew the fight that was heading your way-- but for your part, you couldn’t be bothered to care any less.

“Got it, you need this date.” Miguel cut Peter off, standing behind you with his massive arms crossed. “¿Por qué no me dijiste?”

“¡Mi nena! Muévete Miguel,” you giggled, shoving your way past Miguel to Peter’s child carrier, sneaking your hands underneath her little armpits and whirling her around. She cackled, a glittering warmth to her mischievous eyes. You came to a stop, settling Mayday against your chest, nuzzling your foreheads together in some secret pact that the two of you shared.

Oh no, no, no, no. Not this. It hits him at once.

The sight of his wife— beautiful and cuddly with a very young baby in her arms. The only sight more beautiful was at the altar on his wedding day, your shy smile behind a sheer veil. It had been a long time, too long, since he had someone to call him father. He can still picture her glimmering eyes, the way she looked at him in nothing short of admiration, looking past the things that he’d done to see him and only him. Glimpsing at Mayday, remembering Gabriella’s soft, small face, it took him a moment to snap free.

He's so fucked.

“You would have said no, amado mío.”

You’re a natural at this, scooting by both men to set Mayday on the bed. Your tiny fingers spiraled out from her belly to change her diaper. Peter jittered uncomfortably, looking as though he wanted to jump in himself. You cleaned her, replacing the dirty diaper with a clean one. “We’re going to a market with Tío Miguel--”

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“Are you sure it's okay? I’ll be back at five, it's just a few hours, really--”

“¡Vete! A ratty house robe and a dirty spider suit aren’t sexy. Look at mi Miggy,” now you’re just buttering him up. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, inspecting the ground. “Wear something nice.”

They’re sexy to her, he might have murmured. Not on a date, you bopped him. Mayday’s bright eyes tracked the space between you and Peter before you broke away to wash your hands. Peter’s clammy hands cupped Mayday’s sweet face, littering at least a dozen sickly daddy kisses over her tiny face. But Miguel what if--

“Adiós, Peter!” You returned to force Peter out of your room. Miguel peered at Mayday whose head snapped to the side, cheek against her fiery hair as the door clicked shut. He braced himself for the shrill that would inevitably come with her realization that her daddy was gone. She whined, grabbing her toes and tipping nearly off the side of the bed. Miguel begrudgingly hovered at her feet, blocking her from rolling off the bed. He could do this, he told himself, he could resist those giant baby eyes staring up at him.

He didn't need a baby, he didn't.

He blames Peter for having such a good baby.

She doesn’t ask for much other than requiring chest-to-chest contact with Miguel. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hold her, he finds himself aggravated by how much he likes to be around her. In a market full of things to look at food trinkets such as necklaces, body scrubs, and empanadas, it’s all her. Miguel props her up with an arm just under her bum, her tiny finger peeking curiously into his fangs. He snapped his teeth playfully at her, a nip, nip, nip, missing playfully every time. It rips ping a toothy grin across her face.

“No biting Miguelito,” you called out, sliding your fingers in a teasing ring around his muscled back to chest. You leaned up on your tippy toes, placing a small little kiss on his lips. You ran off to go get her a pineapple whip after her tiny fist yanked your hair over and over again. You relented, staring at what she was cooing at. Sweets-- obviously, sweets. All the little ones loved sweets.

“She likes it.”

“Ya sé,” you said, “But we don’t need anyone noticing you’ve grown fangs.”

“Tch,” he clicks his teeth in protest. She does too, throwing you a mean look for interrupting her fun. You plucked up a bit of the whip on your spoon, cutting through her displeasure through the power of sugar.

"There's a lot of people here, Miggy, let's go to the park." You point toward the park, pointing away from the mounds of fresh produce and locally sourced goods toward a healthy patch of green grass. Miguel is glad-- he’s sick of being stared at for his huge frame. Despite the ring on his finger, people still seem to try their luck. He couldn't be more disinterested.

You lay a picnic blanket as Miguel holds Mayday's treat. Mayday sprawls across his chest, trying to take just one more bite-- then another-- Miguel looks down, chin level, eyebrow raised. She offers a bit on her tiny index finger to Miguel. A peace offering. “She’s not going to wait.”

“Give her to me.” You kicked off your sandals on the edge of the blanket, dropping your things on another corner. You pluck Mayday from Miguel’s arms and set her down on the blanket in a way that is too easy. As though you wouldn’t have much of a learning curve in becoming a mother. No, no— you never mentioned anything about kids. Did you even want kids? He couldn't bring his heart to ask, to hope again.

“I didn’t know you were so experienced with kids.”

“Mami had six,” you noted, plopping down with the whip by Mayday’s side. She sat with a small slant, reaching out toward the sweet treat again with those chunky, adorable hands. You brought her into your lap, at last relenting. “When you’re the oldest, you have to learn a little something to help out. Can you imagine-- being pregnant six times? Ay no.”

“How many times do you want to be pregnant?” he blurts out. Usually timed and precise, the question causes him to pinch his brow as he sits beside you. “Si quieres,”

Your other hand comes on top of his and shifts it away from his face.

“As many as will make you happy.”

Shock. He chews on that response, his eyes glued to Mayday lapping at the last spoon of sweets you are willing to give her. She falls into a fit of complaints, a conniving look at the sweets, just as you lift her onto your shoulder.

"I never thought about it."

"No more, your papa won't forgive me if I bring you home all sugared up," you tsked your tongue at her. You patted along her back in small, tight circles until her angry huffs faded away. He reaches for the baby bag, slipping free a soft yellow blanket with white spiders strewn across the front. Miguel slides the blanket on top of Mayday’s small body, her groggy eyes sliding closed.

The more he watches you with Mayday, holding her so close, swaying as you held her, the deeper this ache burrowed in his chest. You would look beautiful all swollen with his child. Never mind Mayday or Peter, he can nearly see it, feel it under his fingers, the feeling of your taut belly under his skin, or the kick of tiny feet against his palm.

“We’ll see, Miggy.”

We’ll see-- the answer seems too noncommittal, too distant to be a satisfactory answer. With Mayday sound asleep, you settle her between your plush thighs. She expelled bursts of energy that milked her energy dry.

A little old woman passed by, her cane pierced soft grass as she moved closer with a bag of tomatoes and green beans. Her face, aged by time, pulls into a wide smile. He doesn't like her smile.

“You two are doing a great job. How old is she?”

You blink, looking up into the woman’s cool blue eyes, her dark hair peppered with thick grey and white strands. You tuck Mayday in her soft blanket, sparing the woman a kind smile that Miguel doesn’t quite have the patience for.

“Oh, oh. Thank you-- um, a couple of months,” you recount, perhaps thinking of Peter’s anxious pacing or his delighted shouts about becoming a father.

“Adopting is a great option. Back in the day, my husband was a bodybuilder too. Had a low sperm count don’t you know. Steroids shrink things. Oh, but these days you can do all sorts of things like IV--”

A what-- Miguel’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the suggestion. Was this old bitch’s suggestion that he couldn’t do it-- couldn’t get you pregnant? He could easily do that. If he wanted you pregnant, you would be shocking pregnant. He’d be damned if some old woman put it in your mind that he couldn’t.

“We’re babysitting for a friend,” he blurts out. “I have--” had, “a daughter.”

“Oh, do you? I’m sorry. I thought-- well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, have a good day."

She’s saying that, but it comes out slanted. You don’t bother correcting Miguel, not on this. Rather, your hand inched toward his, picking up on the energy that was pluming from his body in waves. Irritation-- annoyance-- the little old lady hobbles off. You’re in your mind well enough to bid her goodbye. But you know better than to say anything more, slumping your cheek on Miguel’s firm chest. It makes the ache of Gabriella's memory a little more bearable.

Low sperm count his ass.

It bothers him long after Mayday is gone. Peter, for his part, looks refreshed. He supposes that’s what happens with a full day of opportunity to empty your balls after weeks of no relief. It bothers him long after you come back from the kitchen, his favorite dark red slip plastered to your perfect body. It would look beautiful, full of his children— he just knows it.

“I may have hijacked the kitchen a little bit,” you teased, the waft of warm chicken and brewed spices filled his nose. He had no appetite. “But I made you some pollo guisado.”

“Hm,” he grunts into a pillow. “Later.”

Beside the bed, he has a bowl of brightly colored condoms. With your sensitivity to birth control, it is the best option available. It wasn’t, however, something he was ever happy about. He should be able to feel your body. Not once had he felt your body pure and unadulterated, warm and perfect for him. He was your husband. He wanted that moment— to fill you up just once, watch his cum dribble out of your cunt. It would be perfect. You set the food away, bowl and spoon clinking together.

“Miguel.”

Forget your warm body. This room is too quiet. It is almost stifling in its silence. Mayday’s sweet huffs, the memory of Gabriella’s laughter. A proper home full of a child's giggles. He’s going crazy-- he has to be-- this isn’t normal. This isn’t Miguel.

“Mi vida, don’t pout,” you reach out, rolling your fingers through his long brown hair. Your fingers tease along his scalp, turning around his ear. Your fingers tickle his lobe, your voice cemented in a concern that he wanted nothing more but to fix if it were anything other than this. “Miggy. Miggy, what is wrong? You look sad.”

“I’m not sad,” he says with a whine on his pillow. How silly he must look with his broad arms wound around the body pillow, squeezing its fluff for life. If he said the words well enough, you might believe them.

“I know you are,” you nudge the pillow loose. He takes you instead, the air thickening with the closeness. You fed off the tension, sliding your leg over the sheet that covers his naked hip. “Tell me why.”

He turns his hands over your thighs, traveling past your hips to ghost along your belly.

“Sí, Miggy?”

“I need…” he trailed off, finding the words nearly impossible to admit. They grow into a ball and cement in his throat, present but stubborn. Rather than break the words free, he swallows a bolus of desire and frustration. “It’s nothing. Let it go.”

The issue was— you loved him enough to let it do so.

Miguel doesn’t want to press the issue. He knows you. All you want is Miguel’s happiness. Sometimes, he worries it is at the price of your own. The distance he places between you and him is intolerable. It bothers him every time he finds you babysitting Mayday.

Today, while Peter goes on a small date, you and Mayday make his favorite empanadas. She’s covered in a dusting of flour from head to toe. Peter would have fun with that.

“Miggy you’re back?” you called as Mayday’s chubby hands shot out, nearly plopping off the counter if not for Miguel’s quick reflexes, setting her back in place.

“Empanadas?” he settles the words in a small kiss to your lips. You glance at him over your shoulder.

“It's... it's Gabi's birthday, isn't it?"

You’re too good for him. Despite the day coming and going, no one else notices his grief today. Not even Peter who came in alongside him, reading the room, and snatching up Mayday off the countertop. He’s babbling something, a thank you, see you later— you kiss Mayday with only the sweetness a mother could know.

“Peter! Mayday made these for you,” you reach out to a box of uncooked empanadas. “Take them home!”

Her first empanadas— the delight is palpable. Peter may have snapped a photo, or ten, of his little flour girl on the way out, empanadas in hand. Then there’s silence. Miguel returns the nearly forgotten bundle of empanada dough and filling to the fridge in the space of unspoken tension. Miguel dips down to your neck, caramelized perfume warm on your neck. His lips trace the warm pulse of your neck.

“Mami,” his voice mesmeric, warm like the filling you used to make him happy when no one else could. Your doting attention, even in the face of real issues like work and babies, was always on him.

"Sí, mi vida?"

His hands coast around your waist, using his strength to gently turn you around. It isn’t important right now. What is important is how he lifts you up onto the floury surface, purring his need into your slight ear. “I want a baby.”

“¿Qué?”

“Una niña,” Miguel leans his fingers along your collarbone.

“Oh, Miggy.” You puff the words. They come out almost wounded. You know him so well, the vulnerability of the words causing him to look down. Your warm palms cradle his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. “You miss being a father, don't you?”

You’re not stupid. Neither is he. He thought he could wait— watch Mayday grow up and not feel this sundering longing. As though he could stomach never feeling a child in his arms again. The ghosts of the past that came with Mayday’s longing haunt him day by day.

You devour his insecurity, winding your legs around his waist and forcing him forward. He stumbles into your embrace, as though he were not a man who could decimate villains and spiders alike. When he was here, in your arms, he barely felt like the weapon of a man that he is.

“Miguel. Speak to me.”

“You’re right,” he can’t lie— can’t hide the longing that comes with the thought of his own child on his chest. Not Mayday, no matter how many times she cuddled up to his chest. At the end of the day, she would never be his. You drew your lip into your mouth, nipping it fat and red, a bob in your head. His heart beats faster, strumming as though it would break free from his chest. Whatever it is you’re thinking he’s not sure. Only that it’s been so long.

“I just want to make you happy, will this make you happy?” you nearly whisper, knowing that there’s no one but him to hear the words. It’s what he wants for you, too. As he stands there, coursing his fingers along your thighs and hiking your dress up your hips, he can’t help but feel the foggy discomfort of forcing you into parenthood before you were ready.

“It will.”

As well as it could. It would never erase Gabriella-- and, in the vulnerability of begging his wife for another child, came the guilt. Not only the guilt of failing to be a proper father or to protect her but moving on without her in his life to a beautiful family she would have loved. The feelings surge in his chest, a well of uncomfortable emotions in his eyes, threatening to fall.

“Miguel,” you’re whispering, your fingers cutting across his sharp cheekbones. You cup his face, drawing your lips together in a commanding kiss. You never liked being ignored or forgotten. He’s not sure how he could now, with your tongue flicking between his lips, begging him to come back with a sugary sweet whine. “Stay with me, Miguel.”

“I am,” he says, gripping either side of the counter by your hips. He feels your eyes on him, soft and careful, pressuring him to meet your gaze. He searches for an inkling of an answer in your gaze. "¿Qué piensas?"

“We can try,” you bite your lip, sliding it free between your teeth. “If you don’t have a low sperm count,” you tease. “Maybe it’ll take.”

“¡Por dios!” He throws a curse to the side as if he believed in such a being, throwing a look back at you. “You don’t actually believe that vieja.”

“Ay Miggy, of course not.” His lips work into a budding smile. You leaned up against his stubbly jaw, setting soft kisses there. Your lipstick stains his neck, dragging down to his prominent adam’s apple. He looks down at you with heady eyes, tracing the way you suckled a mark on his throat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like them a little more when others noticed them, little marks of possession. Miguel’s fingers come up to the straps of your dress, easing them over and down your slight shoulders. You pull back, words forming puff against his neck.

“Not right here,” you inhale a soft breath. “Someone could come in.”

Miguel eases his finger over the small bud of your breast, rolling his thumb along the silken skin, His hand comes up, encompassing your neck and shoving you back into the cabinets. It isn’t comfortable, not by far. He works the nub to its peak before turning his attention to the other. His mouth covers your breast, fangs grazing your nub as he suckled and tugged gently. Miggy, you pull him back up, stripped of your touch. Your hand slide across Miguel’s chest, tracing the taut muscles of his chest.

“Who would come in?”

“Peter,” you answer.

It’s always Peter. He supposes that you wouldn’t want your friend to see you here, cunt stuffed with Miguel on the very same counter you earlier made him empanadas on. Miguel snatched the dress that fell along your hips laxly, utilizing it to yank you off the counter. You fell forward into Miguel, a heavy wall of muscle, your lips failing to form anything of use. You looked at him, cheeks flush and eyes doting, he’s the only one you see.

“The balcony, then.”

“Dianche, Miguel! Do you want all of Nueva York to see me?”

“Maybe.”

No, but see Miguel breeding you? Undoubtedly yes.

He couldn’t simply choose the bed, that would be too easy. Miguel set a kiss on your forehead, soft and scratchy with his stubble. You return it by dragging him down for another kiss, a wave of warmth coming over him as you force your hips back onto him, rolling your hips against his, teasing him. Miguel doesn’t appreciate the tease and gently pushes on your hips, motioning you to face the counter.

“Bend over.”

"Can't we go to my room?" you complain but comply all the same. Miguel’s palm ghosts your spine, dragging his fingers smoothly over the middle of your back and past the dress that gathered around your hips, He strips you of the little cover the dress gave, eager to have you bare and rid of the thin clothing that served as a veil from prying eyes. Miguel can cover you from the prying eyes of others if necessary. Not that he cared if others saw him fucking-- he’s all the more eager to have you all to himself, here and now.

“No panties,” he notes, his warm hands on your inner thighs. “It’s almost like you knew.”

“I might have,” you return, spreading your legs obediently for him. He palms your vulva, your hips shifting down over his hand. Sticky and wet, he wonders if his need to breed you has rubbed off on you too. His fingers shift, sliding over your soft hole. “Apúrate Miguel, you’re so slow.”

“Can’t you be be good for once.”

You were always bossy. He likes it, most the time, being led around by what his pretty little wife wants. Today he wants to take his time, curving his broad fingers into your glistening cunt. Your wetness drips over his knuckles, fingers teasing the velvety soft walls he has never felt without a condom. A pleasured cry wracks in your chest, turning your head over your shoulder to watch Miguel’s fingers stretching you out. No matter how much your walls gave under his fingers, you would still ache when he penetrated you. It was the favourite part, the rich pull of his dick into your hole, bottoming out as best he could in your stomach. He soothes your complaints by grazing his other hand against your perky clitoral hood, finding the soft nub there for relief. You settle your arms on the floured surface.

“I never-- ah-- am,” you threw back.

Miguel slipped his fingers free, cupping your cunt with his palm for a teasing slap. You want to be good-- it’s just so hard, your cunt pulsing in the abswnce of his touch. He drags his sodden fingers to your lips, glazing them in taste of your lubricant. You suckle your tongue around his thick digits, savoring your own taste, his soft grunt of approval spurring you on. You feel like such a good girl with his fingers crooked in your mouth.

“Are you ready?” Miguel stands fully upright, dragging your hips to his. He’s hard as the counter you were pathetically clinging onto. His hipbones ground into your plush ass, dick pulsing in his immediate ache to feel your cunt. He backs up, fiddling with something at the waist. You don’t need to ask to know that it was his big cock grinding between your cheeks, smearing fluid over your slit.

“No condom?”

“No condom,” he affirms. You bow your head, nodding gently over the countertop. The head of his cock drove into your wetness, pushing past bundles of nerves. It’s impossibly different without the bag over his dick. It’s been so long. His world blinks out, savoring the feeling like he was an inexperienced teenager again.

“Carajo, you’re so good,” he finds himself cursing, leaning over your back.

“Now he says I’m good."

“Shh,” Miguel clips with a mean nip at your nape, lining it with soft kisses, encouraging you on to take him. Warm and wet, Miguel can only describe the slide into your cunt as untethered delight. Released from the bondage of his usual condom, he’s a mess against your soaked cunt, gripping you for a semblance of stability.

I just want to make you happy. For all your needy complaints and little quips, he knows you do. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here, with your hands cupped on top of his, squeezing for more closeness. Miguel laces your fingers together in a needy weave, drawing back to stroke his cock right back into your wet body. You lead one of his hands between your legs, urging him on to stroke your clit. Your walls clamp down on him, teasing out bursts of pleasure with how deeply he was buried. Miguel’s lips part into a whine of his name, skin slapping against skin. He sets a kiss in the crook of your neck, breath nearly unbearable.

“Mami,” he gasps, the word coming out between his unstable thrusts. Your eyes shut hard, sparks of pleasure winding and building in your core. “Give me a baby.”

“Sí papi,” you heave, “I”m trying to.”

Miguel knows what you like-- and you like him desperate. His voice so low and rich that you gush around his swollen length, falling apart below him. He catches your body from dropping in an instant, his thighs shaking as he works you through the fibers of gentle pleasure. Hot pressure builds low in his stomach.

“Qué bella eres. I’m going to finish, fill you and knock you up,” he whispers, drawing himself free and admiring the hazy space of pleasure and reality. Miguel turns you back to face him. You think you may complain-- you didn’t cum, or something of the sort. He shifts you to sit on the counter, spreading your vulva for inspection. Miguel spat on your cunt, rolling his fingers over the swollen folds to spread you apart. He slipped into the space between your shaking legs. You felt him thrust into your body hard and sharp. Your hands reached out, dragging Miguel’s shoulders forward, clinging onto his body.

It comes all at once, Miguel’s stuttering thrust forward, a deep groan filling the kitchen, his hand clasped onto your thigh so hard you know he’ll bruise it. You catch his moan in a kiss he doesn’t reciprocate, buried so deep in your body that all he can think to do is to force you to take all of it. He shakes himself free of the web of pleasure that he’s enveloped in, looking at you past the thin rivulets of sweat you wiped away with your loving thumbs.

“I think there are better positions for baby making,” you lean in, kissing him gently. He returns the kiss this time, eyes light of the strain and stress of the last few days. “Like… not this.”

Miguel pulls back, his soft cock slipping free from your warm entrance. Miguel watches as his seed dribbles from your hole, grunting in acknowledgement. He swipes your mixed fluids and rolls it between his fingers.

“I’m open to suggestions.”

He loves his wife. More than anything. What he doesn’t love is how Peter seems to know that you’re trying for a baby.

The thing about having a woman from his same cultura was this: you loved to talk with your best friend. Who, just so happened to be Peter. He doesn’t even have to say anything, just staring at him with a quirk on his lip and a terrible glitter in his eye after he’s resolved another meeting.

“Hey, Miguel.”

“Don’t start.”

He’s crowded with work at his desk-- he has no time for Mayday’s curious little eyes to glitter at him, Peter to be doing that shit he did when he wanted to be helpful. He offered his hands up, shrugging.

“I’m just saying! I’m a man, you’re a man,” he mumbles, inching a little closer and closer. “If you want a baby--”

“Let me guess. She told you.”

“Mayday could use a spider buddy,” he held Mayday up, out of her carrier. Miguel glanced down at her wild hair, exhaling air out of his nose with a little huff. “Sooner than later?”

“I’ve done it before,” Miguel throws back. “I know how to knock up my own wife, Peter. I don’t need help.”

Peter is offering help as if Miguel hadn’t tasted the changes in your body when he ate you out. Never mind that he saw you nauseated this morning, too sick to handle a call that Miguel promptly answered. He knew his seed had stuck-- you wouldn’t feel so miserable otherwise. It doesn’t matter, he’d answer them all if it meant another little one in his arms at the end of it all. Just so long as you and the baby were safe.

“Are you sure? I know--”

“I’m damn sure.” Miguel turned around, his head in his hand. “I’ve had enough of you. Why don’t you do something useful? Bring her something for her morning sickness.”

“Oh,” realization fell over Peter like a hammer, looking down to Mayday who looked right back up to her father. For all that Peter knew about his love life, he was shocked that you hadn’t told him how awful the smell of breakfast meat made you feel. His hand fell away, a film of pride slipping from his practiced features when Peter spoke. “But... She’s already pregnant?”

He leers. Peter scuttles away.

Privacy is important to Miguel. You knew the damn rule. No telling Peter about the inner workings of your bedroom. For that, you were going to fucking get it. You likely knew you were going to get it-- even if you were likely already pregnant.

He can’t wait.

13K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 month

Note

hi! reader doesn’t like kids at all, but somehow eddie’s child is just different and the cutest sweetest child who warms their heart

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ the beginning ]

summary: when steve harrington brings you as a plus-one to a munson birthday party, he forgets to tell you it's for eddie's four-year-old, maeve. (1.8k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, meet ugly-ish, fluff, girl dad eddie munson™, r is not used to being around kids (and it shows), baby blurb turned spin-off universe <3

When Steve Harrington invites you to a birthday party, he fails to mention it’s for a four-year-old.

The tiny trailer is decked out in decoration. A fusion of black and rainbow, of bats and unicorns, of vampires and Tickle Me Elmo — like no one could land on a singular theme.

Steve guides you into the home with a golden hand on the small of your back, his other clutching a sparkly black bag with Count von Count’s face on it. You stop very suddenly in your tracks. Happy 4th Birthday, Maeve! reads a handpainted sign draped beneath the ceiling.

You become very hyperaware of the whiskey bottle in your right hand, something you figured would be the most sufficient thing to gift someone you’d never met before. You just hadn’t expected the stranger to be a child.

“What the fuck, Steve?” you bite under your breath, glaring at the boy beside you. “I thought you said this was your friend’s birthday party?”

“Maeve is my friend,” he answers with a stupid shrug. “Though, to be fair, I did say it was my friend’s kid’s birthday party.”

He most definitely hadn’t.

“What the hell— I brought booze!”

“That’s okay,” assures a wild-haired boy with a pretty pink grin as he walks up to the two of you. The friend in question.

Eddie Munson wears a silver ring on each finger and a thick leather jacket despite the warming spring season. His laughter sounds like sunshine. His smile is bright enough to give you a goddamn sunburn.

“Maeve’s been getting presents all day— It’s about time someone got somethin’ for me,” he jokes.

You grimace while the two boys laugh. “Sorry…” you murmur as you pass him the bottle, shrinking inside yourself in an attempt to hide from the moment. I’m never letting Steve convince me to leave the house again, you think to yourself.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously. I’ll go stick this in the kitchen— Make yourself at home.”

Your racing heart quells only slightly. He must be more of a good guy than Steve made him out to be, if he’s willing to keep you around after you brought booze to his daughter’s party. Though, you’ll contend that you were only half at fault for this.

Steve bites back a chuckle as he walks you to the back door, standing with you on the little wooden deck lined with sparkly streamers. There’s a picnic table off in the distance, covered in a bat-patterned cloth and set with Sesame Street-themed utensils. A small crowd of teenagers gather around it, and a couple of their parents, you figure.

The spring breeze only half soothes your burning skin.

“See?” he lilts, trying not to laugh and failing. “He likes you already—”

You swat his chest with a less than kind hand.

“Ow!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, Harrington, I swear to—”

“What’s your favorite animal?” a tiny voice asks from behind you, a smidge too loud and confusing their R’s with W’s.

You look over your shoulder, face flooded with horror. A kid with wild chocolate hair stands at less than half your height, wearing the tiniest Ozzy Osbourne shirt you’ve ever seen beneath a rainbow tutu. You don’t know what to say, so you just blink at it for a moment — at her.

“Hey, Maeve,” Steve greets with a curt wave.

The girl beams, missing her very front tooth. “Hi, Uncle Steve!”

“Wha— Huh?” you stammer mindlessly. ‘Cause you’re not exactly the best at talking to people your own age, let alone to children. They’re too honest. And too loud. And beyond still feeling like a kid yourself most days, you don’t have anything in common with them.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Maeve repeats in the same inflection, smiling until a dimple appears in her freckled cheek. “Mine’s a Hefflelump.”

“Hef… Hefflelump?” you echo quietly, only vaguely registering Steve’s laughter as he disappears through the screeching screen door, leaving you all alone. You’re definitely killing him for this.

“Yeah… From Winne the Pooh!” she says like it’s obvious.

“Oh… Okay…”

“What’s yours?”

You stumble over your words to find an answer. “Um… Uh… I don’t— I don’t know…”

“Everyone has a favorite animal,” she scoffs like some kinda critic with a speech impediment. She tilts her chin to her chest and peers up at you with a pair of doe eyes, so brown they’re almost black. You shift your weight on your feet, visibly uncomfortable beneath her unwavering stare.

“Maybe like a… A blobfish, or something?” you shrug.

Her tiny face screws in disgust. “Gross,” she spits.

You flinch. “What? Why is that gross?” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest, more defensive than you’d like to admit.

“They’re so ugly,” Maeve giggles.

“Why?” you squint. “‘Cause they look differently than we do?”

“No!” she laughs, loud and golden, just like her father. “’S ‘cause they’re so slimy.”

“Well— You— You’re slimy,” you stammer.

The wild-haired girl grins with all her baby teeth (well, besides the front one, anyway). “You’re slimy!” she echoes with a mischievous twinkle in her chocolate eyes.

The screen door squeals open again, the rusted hinges screeching in protest. “Who’s slimy?” a male voice questions from behind you, a smile audible in his voice.

“You are!” you and Maeve chorus at the same time.

You whip your head around a second too late. Your heart drops to your ass when you find Eddie lingering in the doorway behind you. You stumble over your words while Maeve giggles. “Sorry! I thought— I thought you were Steve! I’m so sorry!”

A chuckle sputters from Eddie’s mouth. He’s nearly as grieved by it all as you are. “He just left,” he tells you with a lopsided smile, cocking his thumb over his shoulder. “I think he’s helping Wayne out front. They’re putting together Maeve’s d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e.”

His eyes flit upward as he tries hard to spell the word correctly. Upon your confused look, he says, “I can’t say it, or she’ll know what I’m talking about.”

“Right,” you nod.

Eddie crouches and holds his arms out for his daughter. Maeve’s tiny feet patter against the wooden deck as she rushes to him. He huffs at the weight of her — heavier than he remembers and getting bigger every day (which is weird ‘cause she was a newborn, like, a week ago). He grunts when he picks her up, propping her weight on his side.

“What were the two of you talkin’ about, then?”

“Blobfish!” she shouts with a beam.

Eddie breathes out a faint chuckle and turns to you. “She’s forcin’ you to pick a favorite animal, huh?” he wonders, then laughs a bit louder when you nod. “Yeah, she’s been doing that all day. It’s her new thing,” he says, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her curls.

Realization seems to him then, and his brows furrow when he looks at you. His face, all twisted in confusion, is an exact replica of Maeve’s.

“Wait— Your favorite animal is a blobfish?”

“That’s what I said!” the girl laughs.

You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m… feeling very judged in this moment…” you murmur under your breath, only half joking.

“I think that’s the most creative answer we’ve had yet, huh, Mae?” Eddie chuckles.

You scoff. “Well, I think Hefflelump’s pretty creative considering—”

The boy clears his throat, seeming to sense the rest of your sentence. His eyes widen in a lighthearted glare before he nods to the girl on his hip. Only then do you realize the words sitting on the tip of your tongue. You swallow them down immediately.

“Right…” you nod instead. “Nevermind…”

“Here—” Eddie huffs as he sets the girl down again. “—Go find Aunt Robin, alright? She’s probably decorating your cake as we speak.”

Maeve rushes off at the word cake, tottering on lanky, ungraceful legs. The two of you watch her go and linger in an awkward silence. Neither of you is quite sure how to make conversation without her there. You decide to start with an apology.

“I’m, uh, I’m sorry, by the way. Again,” you laugh awkwardly at yourself, scratching at the back of your neck. “I’m not… I’m not really… great with kids. If you couldn’t already tell.”

Eddie grins, pink and lopsided and pretty. You don’t feel deserving of the warmth swimming in his button eyes, glimmering beneath an early setting sun. “It’s okay. Seriously. You should’ve seen Robin and Steve the first time they met her— they were hopeless. And now they’re… Sort of alright, I guess.”

You force a faint chuckle. “Yeah, I’m— I’m just not used to being around them, I guess. I don’t even think I’ve talked to a kid her age since, like, elementary school.”

“I was the same way. ’Til I had Maeve and all…”

“Well, I couldn’t tell,” you assure him with a wavering smile. “You’re, like, a total pro. You’re great with her.”

He ducks his head to hide his blushing cheeks. The apples of them speckle warm and pink beneath the weight of your compliment.

“Well… thank you,” he says, deflecting from your praise with that stupid, posh, D&D accent he always uses when he gets nervous. You don’t notice him grimacing at himself because you’re still stewing in your own embarrassment.

“And sorry for the booze, too. I seriously didn’t mean to bring— I mean, Steve didn’t even tell me that—”

“Stop apologizing,” Eddie chuckles warmly. “That part’s not your fault, alright? I don’t know if you know this or not, but your boyfriend’s a total idiot.”

Your face screws up. “Oh, he’s not— Steve’s not my boyfriend.”

The boy’s smile ebbs. “No?”

“No. No way!” you laugh before you mean to. “I’m pretty sure I’m just, like, his replacement best friend since Robin started dating Vickie.”

Wide-eyed and distantly relieved, Eddie stammers like a teenage boy. “Oh. Right. That’s… That’s cool. Yeah.”

“Yeah…” you echo.

“Well, uh— I’m gonna see if Wayne wants any help,” he blurts despite knowing he’s been barred from doing handy work since he nearly drove a nail through his own finger. He just needs a way out, lest he keep stumbling over himself and lose all of his cool points with you.

He saunters backward through the opened door and nearly trips over the frame.

You bite back a laugh. He forces a wavering smile.

“But, um, I was thinkin’ about cracking open that bottle you brought. You know, after Maeve’s in bed and everything. If you— If you wanna hang around that long…”

The silence makes him as nervous as a teenage boy, all writhing and uncomfy in his skin. You nod in agreement, and his sparkling chest swells all over again. “Yeah,” you reply, lip quirked in a poorly hidden smile. “Sure. I’d— I’d like that…”

He smiles, all proud of himself. “Good. That’s… That’s good,” he stutters, then swallows hard and scurries off before you change your mind.

Before he shuts the squealing screen door behind him, you hear Robin’s voice exclaim loudly from the kitchen. “What the hell’s a blobfish?!”

if u have any other ideas for hijinks these two idiots (and maeve) can get into, feel free to leave 'em here! (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie and maeve

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2hightocare · 4 months

Text

SNOW IMPRINTS ✷

“I’m grown, I’m not dipping my dick in the snow to compare dick sizes.”

Synopsis: What was supposed to be a family reunion, ends in comparing dick sizes.

Genre: established relationship! married au!

Pairings: DILF!Jungkook x fem!reader

Warnings: Jungkook being whipped as fuck, Jungkook being a girl dad! (Cute.) a lot of cussing, mentions of sex, mentions of consumption of alcohol, found family.. Jungkook is just such a cutesy dramatic baby!

a/n: hai… I disappeared for a bit but happy new year!! I read “unravel me” and it inspired me to write this super short blurb so enjoy Jungkook being a golden retriever husband. (Ignore all mistakes, wrote this while high) 🤍 Word count: 1.4k

“I’m literally the biggest DILF,” your husband starts again. Jungkook points to himself while Iseul giggles in his arms.

“If you don’t shut the fuc—“ Yoongi irks.

“No cussing!” You and all the wives jump in. A heavy sigh leaves your mouth because this is like the hundredth time you have told all the boys not to cuss when the kids are around. Not since what happened when you decided to babysit Ye joon.

“Jeon, get your ass in here!” You shout from the kitchen, hoping your husband can hear you from upstairs. You stare at the empty cookie jar you had refilled yesterday, and there was only one reason why they were gone.

“What, baby?! What’s wrong?” Jungkook runs down the stairs with Iseul in one hand and Ye joon in the other. The two babies laugh at the bouncing. “Did you eat all the cookies!?” You glare at Jungkook, your hands on your hips as your husband looks everywhere but your eyes.

“Actually… Taehyung stole some when he left Ye joon.” He explains as if that would change anything. Knowing Jungkook for ten years, you know damn well Taehyung maybe took three cookies and the other fifty Jungkook ate them.

“No more cookies.” You announce with a shrug not wasting any time and move closer to your daughter who’s in your husband's arms, who stands there with mouth agape.

“No mowe cookies dada!” Iseul giggles as she makes grabby hands for you to pick her up, wiggling out of Jungkook's arms as you grab her.

“Now what do you mean no more cookies?” Jungkook switches Ye joon to his other arm, mouth hanging open dramatically. “There were like three packs in there, and you ate them in a few hours, so no more cookies.” You dance around the kitchen with Iseul in your arms, her chubby arms wrap around your neck as she laughs non-stop. Contrast from Jungkook on the other side of the white counter.

“What the fuck, baby?” Jungkook literally whines as Ye joon giggles, his little hands in his mouth, drool dripping down his chubby cheeks. “Come here, baby, come with your aunt.” You make your way to Ye joon only to stop in your tracks.

“Fuck!” Ye joon beams, clapping his hands, smiling up at you with all his baby teeth showing, as you stare at him dumbfounded.

“No, no, no, don’t say that.” You quickly interfere as Jungkook is staring at you with wide eyes. “Fuck! Fuck!” Ye joon laughs as Iseul joins in.

“Fuck!” Another giggle.

“This is so your fault!” You point to your husband who is trying so hard not to laugh. “Don’t laugh!” You put a hand over your mouth, trying to hide your amusement.

“I’m not— fuck!” Jungkook slaps a hand over his mouth.

“How the fuck are we going to explain this to Taehyung and Ari?” you sigh with a slight laughter in your tone.

“Fuck!”

“We couldn’t get Ye joon to stop saying the f word for like two weeks straight; daycare was seriously about to kick him out,” Taehyung sighs dramatically as Yoongi stares at Eunbi, his wife who stares down at her tiny belly. Wondering if that’s going to be his case in the future.

“Let’s pray for the new baby to not come out like this little beast,” Jimin squeezes Ye joon’s cheeks, making him squirm in Taehyung’s arms.

Ye joon, three years old, Taehyung and Ari’s child, the second-born from the group and the most mischievous, he really doesn’t listen to anyone but his parents, besides Jungkook and you. His godparents. Jiho, first-born, Seokjin’s and Lora’s child. He’s about to turn ten in January. Iseul, third-born, Jungkook's and your child, two years old and the only girl at the moment.

Besides Eunbi, who’s three months pregnant, no one else is going to have kids anytime soon, well, that’s what they say.

“It’s cold; let's go inside, girls.” You suggest as you pick up Iseul from her dad's arms, as the girls stand up following your movements inside the house through the glass door.

“Give Ye joon to Ari!” Hoseok hushes as he swats Taehyung on the shoulder. “Babe! Take Ye joon!” Taehyung shouts. Ari laughs at how her husband has Ye joon up in the air like the Lion King waiting to be taken.

“Come with mama.” Ari picks up the boy in a puffer jacket, making him look like a big marshmallow before skipping inside, joining all the girls inside.

“So sad Seokjin and Namjoon couldn’t come... they really decided on that cabin instead of us, crazy.” Jimin whines as he takes a sip of his beer before placing it in the hole he made in the snow before snuggling into his sweater.

“Honestly, I would take being in a cabin with my wife a hundred times more than being here,” Jungkook playfully jokes, “imagine the bomb-ass sex in the woods,” He smirks with the rim of his bottle on his lips, making the rest of the boys roll their eyes.

“Crazy how y/n has you wrapped around her finger,” Yoongi chimes in, blowing into his hands as if it would make them non-cold.

“Not even.” Jungkook playfully rolls his eyes.

“Dude, you’re so whipped, like it’s so fucking crazy,” Taehyung joins in, as he laughs when the boys hum in agreement.

“Dude, you tried to wrap her in bubble wrap when she was pregnant because you swore she would fall and hurt herself,” Hoseok recalls two years ago. “She could’ve fallen down the stairs; I needed to take precautions,” Jungkook tries to defend himself but fails miserably.

“What the fuck is that for?” You question your husband who enters the main door with a giant bubble wrap roll.

“This is for your safety, baby, can’t have you falling and hurting yourself, so I’m wrapping the whole house like it’s a Christmas present.”

You stare at your husband who is speaking literally, “Jeon, you are not wrapping anything,” you warn him.

“It’s either wrapping this house up or I’m wrapping you in bubble wrap for nine months... your choice baby,” Jungkook shrugs, looking down at your laying body on the couch, hands rubbing down your two-month pregnant belly.

“Be extremely for real.” Your mouth drops open dramatically.

“Even Iseul in her two years of life has you pining after her; imagine when she gets a boyfriend.” Jimin brings up, almost sending Jungkook into a cardiac attack right there and there.

“Fuck no! No boys till she’s forty!” Jungkook points his finger to Jimin. “Or girls either!” He finishes with a pout, making the boys howl in laughter.

“Excuse the fuck outta me!” Jungkook shoots up from his chair.

Somehow the conversation steered with a lighthearted joke about who was the biggest, and suddenly everyone ganged up on Jungkook, talking about he had the smallest dick of all of them.

“We all know that Taehyung has the biggest dick here, let's be honest,” Jimin shrugs, which only makes Jungkook's jaw drop lower.

“Say less, only one way to find out.” Jungkook reaches for his zipper.

“Ayo, what the fuck! There are children here,” Hoseok rushes out, “we are not about to whip our dicks out to compare sizes,” he finishes.

“Of course not.” Jungkook makes his way to the snow, his back facing the boys as his zipper gets pulled down, and before everyone knows it, he spreads his arms wide, face planting in the white snow.

“Shit, fuck, cold!” He scrambles to his feet, tucking himself in as he shivers from the cold. Then, he chuckles with a grin plastered on his face as he points to the snow angel on the snow… and a perfectly shaped imprint of his cock.

“So who’s next?” Jungkook asks.

“I’m grown, I’m not dipping my dick in the snow to compare dick sizes.” Yoongi shakes his head, crossing his arms.

They all dipped their dicks in the snow to compare dick sizes.

“What the fuck! I swear it shrunk cause it’s cold, I swear,” Taehyung begs to the boys who stare at all the lined imprints.

“Motherfuckers, I told y'all I was the biggest,” Jungkook smiles proudly as he sees he is the biggest out of all of them.

“I can’t believe this, we just boosted his ego more,” Jimin sighs as he stares at his own imprint and then to Jungkook's.

The glass door slides open, making the five men abruptly turn around. Five women come marching towards them, “what are you guys doing?” Ari asks, with a big smile on her face.

“Nothing,” Taehyung answers a little too fast.

You stare at your husband, raising your eyebrow at him, and that makes him fold like a lawn chair. “We were comparing dick sizes in the snow,” Jungkook blurts out, “I won though!” He cheers, pointing to his snow angel happily.

“Fucking shit, y/n how are you upright?” Eunbi gasps as she stares at Jungkook's imprint. “Now we know why you are always so damn happy,” Yoongi chimes in with a grin.

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moneyndior · 2 months

Text

୧ ׅ𖥔you’ll never find nobody better than me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH; i have loser!luke x reader thoughts

tags/warnings: fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff, reader says something slightly suggestive twice at the end, small creepy comments mention, teasing!reader, whipped!luke, hints at aphrodite!reader, hints at reader being popular, separate blurbs/headcanons, LONG‼️

ೃauthor notes⁀➷: do not expect this to be coherent lmfao i just woke up from a 4 hour nap and had ideas. also shout out to artemis for telling me to write this ily oomf

—

—loser!Luke absolutely looks over to you before answering a question for your reassurance.

“can you help me, luke?” a younger hepaestus kid asked. you and luke finally had alone time—away from your friends and away from his siblings. a huff left your lips as you crossed your arms, a sassy expression sure, but that comes naturally to you.

luke opened his mouth, ready to agree. it was his calling, to keep up the golden child reputation he had at camp. but for some reason, he hesitated. luke’s eyes shifted toward yours, back to the kid, then back to you. like he was asking you if he could go—like all his free will was thrown out the window.

as much as you’d like to preach that you didn’t like it—that you’d much rather luke be his own person—you couldn’t. a snicker left your throat as you nodded. luke’s eyes shinned with appreciation, a small smile on his face as he turned his attention to the kid.

“yeah, sure. c’mon.” luke mumbled before kissing you on the cheek, following the kid as the 12 year old frantically explained the situation.

—loser!Luke who gets weak in the knees whenever you noticed him. even if you two just made eye contact.

“it’s getting to be painful to watch you looking at her, dude.” chris said from beside luke. they both watched as your sisters braided your hair. one put a flower in your hair, making luke’s heart race a little faster. the flower on your ear made you look even prettier. it’s no surprise every other guy at camp is fawning over you.

“will you shut up?” luke asked, his face scrunched up as he diverted his attention away from you for only a split second to look over to his friend. “it’s not that bad.”

all luke got in response was silence. he shifted his weight left to right, rolling his shoulders with his arms crossed. he waited very impatiently for chris to answer.

“did you come to your senses yet? is the realization hitting now?” his friend asked, eyebrows raised. he spoke with a chuckle and a mischievous look in his eyes. luke clenched his jaw as he blinked, looking away from him.

“look, she isn’t busy. she probably thinks you’re a creepy stalker.” chris added, rubbing salt onto the wound. maybe now realization would hit luke. and it did. hard.

he could be ruining his chances with you because he’s too much of a loser to muster up the courage to even say hi! goddamnit—what kind of demi-god is he?

chris nudged the curly haired boy before quickly pointing in your direction. luke followed his finger before your eyes locked with his.

he felt his knees slightly buckle, being the first out of the two of you to break eye contact. ‘shit,’ was the only think echoing in his mind. ‘way to go, luke. go on you for looking like the biggest loser in front of y/n. awesome.’ he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he quickly fled the scene.

“he’s cute.” “who? luke? y’know—he’s like, totally in love with you, y/n.” “i know.”

—loser!Luke who takes the title of ‘y/n’s boyfriend.’ like seriously….he takes real pride in it.

“you’re y/n’s boyfriend, right?” damn fuckin’ right he is. forget luke castellan—that’s boring. y/n’s boyfriend has a much better ring to it. he’s yours before he’s human.

he felt a weird sense of pride wash over him whenever another camper asked him that. it doesn’t matter if he’s asked it once, twice, or even a thousand times. luke’ll always get a grin on his face as he nods.

getting a question like that just meant he gets to brag about how he’s dating the prettiest girl at camp—the prettiest girl to ever walk this planet.

“yeah. y’know it’s actually our anniversary soon and i was wondering-“ and there he goes, on another tangent about his plans to surprise you. because he only wants the best for you. blah, blah, blah. luke’s just so whipped it makes everyone sick.

percy literally fake gags anytime luke finishes a rant about how pretty you looked last night at the campfire and how gorgeous your eyes were then.

—loser!Luke who took one week and three days to finally talk to you.

he felt his sibling shove him in your direction when his back was turned, causing him to stumble toward you. luke’s head snapped back toward them, watching them laugh with a few other hermes kids.

“you alright?” your voice sounded sweet like honey to him. it wasn’t rough, it was possibly the smoothest, nicest voice he’d ever heard. and luke has spoken to a lot of people.

he tripped over his feet as he tried to straighten his back, rolling his shoulders before crossing his arms. luke cleared his throat, nodding. “yeah. ‘m alright.”

a giggle left your throat at his reaction. out of all the guys that you’ve flirted with—luke stuck out for some reason. maybe it was because he was genuinely flustered at the sight of you. that’s different than the usual corny pickup lines or the way-too-intimate complimenting.

“luke, right? it’s nice to finally put a face on a name.” you said, a chuckle in your voice as you smiled. your smile was so much brighter up close. luke was about to answer, until his words finally processed in his head.

you knew his name. you know who he was before this. did you hear good things about him? bad things? did you hear that he was the best swordsman here? did that impress you?

“uh, yeah. it’s nice to meet you too.” he managed to get out, his voice coming out a little quieter than he’d like.

“i love your hair, by the way.” you complimented him like it was nothing—like he wasn’t about to make it his whole personality. did you even know the hold you have on him?

“oh, thank you.” “you’re welcome.”

luke was ready to say something about your eyes, until your sibling cut him off.

“i have got to steal y/n. i am so sorry, luke!” “oh. that’s alright.”

it wasn’t alright, though. he wanted to keep talking to you—having your full attention on him was better than anything. luke just sighed before speaking to you once more, hoping to leave an impression.

“i’ll see you later, hopefully.”

“yeah, definitely.”

definitely. luke cannot wait for the time definitely comes around.

—loser!Luke who does anything and everything you ask of him.

“can you help me take off my shoes? my feet hurt!”

you whined, throwing yourself onto a log. luke furrowed his brows, more confused above all else. he snickered quietly as he seen you pout, sitting with a leg extended out toward him.

“can’t you do that yourself?” “can’t you do it f’me?”

luke shrugged, sarcastically rolling his eyes at your words. he kneeled down in front of you, beginning to untie the converse you had on.

“you look pretty like this, luke.”

he paused for a moment, his hands still gripping your shoe lace. luke’s lips tightened, his eyebrows twitching. he really didn’t know what to feel other than embarrassment.

“thank you.” he muttered before frantically trying to finish untying the shoe. luke quickly slipped it off, hearing you giggle at his expense.

“why’re you actin’ so shy? can i not compliment my boyfriend?” you teased further as he, once again, frantically tried to untie the other.

“stop it. ‘m tryna help you and this is how you reward me?” “i’ll reward you in a different way if you hurry.”

and goddamnit—hurry he did. even when you asked for him to carry you, he still did. luke is just some guy who’s madly in love with his girlfriend. even when he’s holding her shoes and carrying her bridal style to his cabin.

#— luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan blurb #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #loser!luke #loser!luke x reader #moneyndior #my god his side profile is perfect #LUKE COME HOME #I MISS YOU #TGE BEDS GETTING COLD

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harrysfolklore · 9 months

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love on tour, forever - blurb

i watched harry’s video and got super inspired to write this, it’s definitely one of my favorite things i’ve done so i hope you like it 🥺

ALL GIFS ARE BY @delicatepointofview FOLLOW THEM FOR THE BEST GIFS EVER <33

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

“Do you think I should pack this?” you asked holding a video camera up, catching Harry’s attention.

“That would be great, love,” he said from the bed, watching you add the final items to your suitcase, “That way you can film me while I shower for when we’re apart.”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes with affection and he smirked, “I’m filming special moments with this, you know, backstage moments your photographers don’t always catch.”

“Bummer,” he shrugged, making you roll your eyes at him again, “I’m just kidding love, that is a very lovely idea.”

“It’s settled then.” You smiled at him and put the camera in your suitcase, knowing that by the end of the tour, it would be filled with the most special and heartfelt moments.

“What are you doing down there, lovie?”

“Making sure I get all of your angles,” you shrugged, focused on your video camera, “Here’s the rockstar, getting his steps in before hitting the stage.”

He let out a laugh before you could catch a flash of mischief in his eyes, “You know, there’s another way I could get my cardio in.”

“Stop it, you’re on camera,” you held your finger up and gave him warning eyes, you were planing on showing this videos to his mom who couldn’t be with him all the time, and the last thing you wanted was her knowing abouthis shenanigans, “How are you feeling, nervous about tonight’s performance?”

“I feel good,” he said truthfully, “I’m excited to see everyone and sing our songs, but most importantly I’m excited to wear sparkly gear again.”

“There he is, there he is,” you couldn’t help but shake your head and smile, “I’m going to film the real stars of the show, Mitch and Sarah, so say bye.”

“Bye YN’s camera! Such a shame you’re not catching my post workout shower!”

“It’s negative!” Nyoh said as she entered the room, making everyone cheer and clap.

“We’re not sick! That deserves a happy dance!” Harry said as he stood up and danced goofily around the room, making everyone laugh at him.

Looking at your camera sitting at the table, you decided it was a golden moment you couldn’t afford to miss.

“Okay Ny-ny, could you hold your test up so everyone knows why this man-child is dancing like a fool,” Nyoh showed her test to the camera, laughing as you moved it to show Harry who kept on dancing, “Sometimes I don’t know if I’m dating an adult or a five year old.”

“Come on lovie, dance with me!” he approached you, holding his hand out, “If you don’t I’m going to be sad” he said in a dramatic voice, and you passed your camera to Sarah who was sitting next to you, getting her to film the both of you.

“I want to kiss you right now but we can’t take off our masks,” Harry said before a minute of jumping around, “Easy tiger, we’ll be alone soon.”

“Rehearsal time!” you said cheerfully, filming everyone on stage, “Here’s Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Niji, Ny,” they all waved as you mentioned their names, “And there’s a dude called Harry who claims to be the headliner of the show, no one knows him tho.”

“Come on woman,” Harry gave you an annoyed playful look, “You know me, very well. Actually you know parts of my body that-“

“Harry! What’s with you and your horny comments all the time, you’re like a teenager!” you shook your head, all of his bandmates laughing at your banter.

“Can you blame me? I go home to you every night, I’m a lucky bastard.”

“That you are!” Pauli chimed in, making everyone laugh again.

The band continued rehearsing, you standing in a corner and catching some moments on video. Once they were done with Canyon Moon, Harry called for you.

“So, love. What do you think? Do we sound good.” Harry asked, looking at your with happy eyes, aware that you were still getting it all on camera.

“If by we you mean your band, they sound amazing as always. If you’re included in that ‘we’ then I don’t know, you should practice some more”.

Harry threw his head back in laughter, grabbing the hem of his shirt with one hand and his mic with the other, “Why are you sassy with me today! What have I done?”

You only shrugged and laughed along with him, getting on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek softly.

“Practice some more, I said!”

“Aren’t you the cutest little thing ever?” you cooed at the baby in your lap, Mitch and Sarah asked you to watch their son while they run something with the rest of the band and you were more than happy to do it, “You’re the sweetest boy I know!”

“I thought I was the sweetest boy you knew!” Harry’s voice made its way to you ears, he entered the room accompanied by Mitch and Sarah, the baby instantly making grabby hands at his mom.

“You’re not a boy anymore, you’re basically pushing 30!”

“Don’t remind me!” he dramatically said, “I’m still young and full of life.”

The four of you laughed, Sarah moving to sit next to you and Mitch and Harry hanging out by the door.

“Did he give you any trouble?” Sarah asked, looking down at her son, “He just learned how to walk without any help do he could be a handful sometimes.”

“Not at all, he’s the easiest baby ever.” You smiled at them tenderly.

“He’s not only obsessed with walking, he’s obsessed with dancing too.” Mitch said before taking a sip out of his wine glass, he’s never without one.

“Oh! I didn’t know that!” Harry said excitedly, “Baby, dance for us!”

Sarah put him down and Harry tried to make a melody by hitting the wall and mumbling random stuff, the boy instantly moving his body in an adorable way that made everyone laugh and awe at him.

Harry noticed that you had grabbed your camera to film the moment and he spoke directly to it, “That’s it! We have Love On Tour’s official dancer”

“Here’s the boss man, with his brand new Love On Tour jacket,” you filmed Harry, who was posing by the door showing off his new clothing, “I have my own too, with my name on it and all,” you turned the camera around to show yours briefly before turning it to Harry again, “Anything you would like to say?”

“It’s show time, baby!” he bobbed his head, making the sunglasses who were resting on his head fall to his eyes.

You burst out laughing and so did he after a minute of holding his straight face, “You’re such a dork!”

“But you love me a lot!”

“Eu te amo, Brasil!” Harry yelled to the empty stadium after sound-checking Lights Up.

“As you can see, he’s excited to be here,” you zoomed in on him with your camera, “We love this country so much.”

“We do, we do,” Harry agreed, “I’m putting on my best dance clothes and shoes tonight, this show is going to be massive!”

“You’re a dancer now?” you asked to piss him off.

“Of course! Look at my moves.” He grabbed his mic with one hand, putting the other on his hip and moving funnily.

“Look at that! You’re going straight to Dancing with the Stars after this tour.”

“I’m more of a Dancing Moms kinda guy.” He shrugged, making everyone laugh before moving on with the next song to rehearse.

“There it is, the 10th tweet about how they’re going to the show for Lloyd only.” You giggled, scrolling down your timeline while Harry watched over your shoulders.

“Okay, that’s it,” he said before standing up, “Lloyd Wakefield !” at this, the photographer turned his head around, previously in a conversation with Madi and some other crew members.

“Yes?” Lloyd asked in a confused tone, you stood back and grabbed your camera, knowing a funny moment you would love to remember was coming.

“I might have to fire you,” Harry said, his voice trying to sound serious but his eyes gave him away, “You’re stealing the show and I can’t accept that.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes and everyone in the room turned their attention to them with grins on their faces, they were used to Harry’s humor.

“Yeah? And who’s going to be your photographer now?”

“Or we could solve this like manly man, with a fight.”

“As if you would fight anyone!” you chimed in from your place, making them turn your attention to you.

“Is that my own girlfriend doubting me?” he said, faking an offended tone, “Bring it in, Wakefield”

Lloyd laughed but played along, bringing his arms up and playfully challenging Harry, but somehow they ended up putting their hands together and moving them back and forth.

“Look at the manly man, fighting for who’s the star of the show,” you said, your camera focusing on them, “Just another day on the road.”

“I don’t know what we’re doing but I’m winning!” Harry chirped and everyone laughed again.

“Harry! Harry! Harry!”

Was all that was heard backstage at Reggio Emilia RFC Arena, some people holding up champagne glasses and jumping up and down.

“We did it!” Harry yelled as he placed himself in the center of the room, his vest long forgotten, jumping and twirling along with the cheers.

As usual, you were holding your camera, filming the special you knew he would want to replay over and over again.

“Congratulations baby, another world tour completed!” you said to him, “Any final words you would like to say to the camera.”

Harry paused to think for a few seconds before speaking, “I love you, that’s all,” she shook his head almost in disbelief, “You have been here for every step of the way, and that means the world to me, none of this would be possible without you.”

“Awe! Aren’t you a softie?” Jeff cheered, throwing his arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair playfully.

“I’m just in love.” He winked at the camera and that was your cue to turn it off and take in the moment.

For three years, Love On Tour ruled the world and changed yours, giving you the opportunity to be by Harry’s side for every milestone and special moment.

The tour might had come to an end, but the memories created around it would last forever.

And you were glad you got them all on camera.

taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe

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lessi-lover · 4 months

Text

golden girl II m.earps ~

so this started off as an 1000 word blurb, - but here we are 2433 words later... enjoy ;)

01 ★ ~ m.earps

"you look gorgeous, baby." you tried your best to convince mary. "i don't think i should go," she choked out, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. "no my love, nobody deserves this award as much as you do." you gently kissed away her threatening tears. delicately taking her larger hands into your own, you guided her to the large mirror in your room.

"what if I'm not enough?" she asked, her voice almost breaking.

"most talented woman i know, my golden girl." you praised, whilst lightly kissing each of her fingers. you saw her hesitate for a moment as if she was fighting a battle in her mind to believe your sincere words before she took a deep breath and turned around. now facing you, mary grinned from ear to ear. looking down into your eyes with so much love, that you felt your knees almost buckle.

"you're right, darling." she responded, after a while. "and even if i don't win this award... i know I've won the two most amazing girls in the world." she referred to your baby girl, - sage, and your heart panged with adoration, eyes now tearful at her words.

"speaking of the little one, her babysitters should be arriving, right about -." the doorbell began ringing incessantly, a rapid amount of chimes that seemed to echo the cheekiness of your to good friends, - ella and alessia.

leaving mary, you went to answer the door whilst she woke your little girl from her afternoon slumber. you couldn't help but smile, as you opened the door only to be greeted by the sight of the two girls, decked in animal onesies, with fun, promising smiles plastered on both their faces.

as they entered your home, they immediately barrelled into you with a big hug. both their arms wrapped tightly around you, almost lifting you off your feet. "careful with the wife ladies, she just had a baby," a familiar voice spoke behind you. as the girls' arms gently let go, your waist was then again enveloped by another set of arms, this time belonging to mary.

in your wife's arms, lay a half-asleep sage, her eyes sparkled when she caught sight of her two favourite people, (well apart from you and Mary of course). "auntie el! auntie less!" your daughter called out, her voice now a mix of sleepiness and excitement.

alessia and ella's faces lit up at the sound of sage's voice. "our little star!" ella said in a whisper, sneaking up to playfully tickle sage's stomach, whilst alessia reached out and gently tussled her messy hair. the sleepy child let out a string of giggles, as she tried to push away ella's hands.

you watched mary with a fond smile. her love for sage was a fierce and passionate just as much as her love for the pitch.

"are you ready for a fun night with auntie el and auntie less?!" alessia exclaimed, sporting a cheeky grin. sage responded by extending her arms out to both the girls, clearly eager to engage in any fun they had planned for her. "i'm sure she is," you said, pecking your little girl on the nose and lightly pinching her rosy cheeks, eliciting yet another loud giggle from sage.

ella gently put her back on the floor, beaming with excitement, but slightly nervous about her babysitting duties. alessia and ella were the first people ever to look after sage, apart from both your mums.

"remember bed by eight, and no sugar after dinner." mary instructed the younger girls, her tone firm but warm. she then knelt down to sage's level, tucking a strand of stray hair behind her ear. "and you be good for alessia and ella, young lady." sage nodded in response, stretching out her pinky to seal the deal. mary chuckled, linking her finger with the girl, before squeezing her sides and kissing her head.

'call us if you need anything, right girls?" mary spoke, glancing at the girls, who were clearly already distracted by sage's intense description of her latest preschool adventure. "yes, mary. now go lovebirds!" alessia said, before once again ensuring Mary they would have everything under control.

mary now satisfied enough, turned to you. "lets not keep the night waiting, shall we?" interlocking your hands together, she pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. "good luck!" both girls said in unison, holding up your little girl as they waved goodbye from the front door.

as the evening unfolded, alessia, ella and sage now embarked on an adventurous journey. your once neat living room was now transformed into what could only be described as a pillow fortress. cushions and blankets had been gathered from all corners of the house, each piece carefully picked by sage, for it's essential role in the castle.

alessia and ella fully immersed themselves in the childish game, embracing their roles as the castle's valiant protectors. sage's imagination took over, and none other than her teddy bear was the 'villain' of the story, a mischievous bear named sir. fluffy, which sage had warned her babysitters that he was determined to steal their precious castle treasure.

as the game progressed, sir. fluffy, (operated by sage herself) made several attempts to swipe the precious treasure, only to be 'captured' successfully by alessia, who declared dramatically, "no villainous creature shall defy the guardians of this castle!" sage's laughter flowed loudly through the house, the three girls giggling hysterically on the couch.

when the game reached its end, sage decided that sir, fluffy had in fact learned his lesson, and could be forgiven. the bear was then 'knighted' by queen sage and became an honorary protector of the castle, much to alessia and ella's amusement. the girls then lay down on the couch, breathless to say the least, the two babysitters exhausted from their impromptu adventure.

"how about some dinner, queen sage?" asked ella, her face concerned at how she had lost the time during the game. sage nodded enthusiastically, her small brain having long forgotten the game, now only interested in what dinner might include.

opening the fridge, alessia caught sight of a small container, with the label, "for sage <3" written neatly on top. grabbing the food, she emptied it into a bowl, before tucking it into the microwave.

meanwhile, ella kept you entertained with a short game of "guess who: lionesses edition". as ella desperately tried to guess her teammates, sage found it quite easy to give clues about her aunties, her mothers having brought her to camp a fair amount of times.

"dinner's ready!" alessia yelled from the kitchen, offering sage a bowl of spaghetti pasta. sage immediately dug into her food, her babysitters having to tell her to slow down or she would get a tummy ache.

once sage was finished, alessia took her bowl to the kitchen, cleaning it in the sink, before grabbing some snacks for a movie ella and she had planned. ella picked sage up, throwing her up in her arms before crashing them both onto the couch. sage shrieked, arms wrapping tightly around her neck, as they both giggled excitedly.

"so what are we thinking? beauty and the beast, moana, the little mermaid, rapunzel?" alessia asked, flicking through different options on the tv. not missing a single beat, sage excitedly screamed out, "the little mermaid!" she raised her short arms eagerly above her head.

popcorn, jelly snakes, chocolate freckles, and cookies were spread out in bowls on the table, sage's small hands sneaking snacks every so often, although both girls were aware of her little 'hidden stash'. as the movie played, alessia, sage, and ella sang happily to the lyrics of each number, neither one of the babysitters missing the glint in the little girl's eyes whenever sebastian, the crab came on screen.

halfway through the movie, sage snuggled her small body between the two older girls, grabbing at their hoodies in her tiny grasp. her eyes began to flutter shut, sleep taking over her tired body. alessia took notice of this, checking to see her best friend still enamored with the children's movie playing on the screen.

"el." she whispered, trying to gain the girl's attention without waking her up. "what's wrong?" the brunette asked, tearing her eyes away from the bright screen. "look at the poor girl, she's fallen asleep on you," alessia responded, her thumb coming to rub up and down your small frame. grinning the girls took a photo, before sending it to mary.

mary sat anxiously in her seat, her palms sweaty and knee bouncing up and down erratically. next to her, you sat calmly, moving your hand to sweetly lay on her thigh, gently pausing her nervous movement. she smiled appreciatively, moving her larger hands to rest on top of yours, letting you know you were helping more than you could know.

as the event started to commence, you interlaced your fingers with hers. The tension in the air was intense, collective anticipation steamed from every corner of the room.

around you, sat some of the best athletes to walk the Earth. however, you felt in your heart that a special someone deserved this award, although that special someone would never believe you, no matter how hard you tried.

as greetings were dished out, you could feel your wife's tension slowly subsiding, instead replaced by self-appreciation for how far she had come. the small glance you shared with mary were filled with gratitude and love, a silent conversation that spoke volumes about the journey you had been through together. the journey that didn't stop tonight, whether she was to win the award or not.

mary's focus was entirely on you. the award, which had been at the forefront of her mind all night, gradually faded into the background, her eyes solely on you. her hands relaxed, her smile became more genuine, and the tenseness in her face became less strained.

then, unexpectedly, amid a shared smile, the moment arrived. the presenter's voice cut through the noise of the room, announcing the winner of the BBC Sports Personality of the Year Award.

time seemed to pause as mary's name echoed through the hall.

for a split second, there was a look of disbelief on mary's face, a flicker of surprise that didn't mirror your own. her gaze met yours, a sea of emotions dancing in her eyes – shock, relief, and hint of overwhelming realization. as applause erupted around you, you gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze, a silent message of pride and love.

"my golden girl." you said proudly, a look of true pride in your eyes.

mary rose to her feet, her movement still carrying a hint of disbelief. But as she stepped towards the stage, there was a growing confidence in her stride, a recognition of her outstanding achievements throughout the year and the heartfelt journey that had brought her to this moment.

your heart swelled with pride, watching her accept her well-deserved award and your eyes brimmed with happy tears for how far the girl had come. this was her moment, a shining display of recognition for something she so richly deserved.

lifting up the trophy, mary and you made eye contact, the blonde blowing you a kiss that you knew you would get teased by relentlessly for later.

after a memorable night at the award ceremony, you and mary quietly headed home eager to see your little girl again. the evening had been a success, but now, you couldn't wait to see Sage's reaction to mary's trophy and hear the next day about her time with alessia and ella.

as you gently pushed open the front door, you expected to see the two younger girls chatting on the sofa. instead, you were greeted with a heartwarming sight.

there, on the couch in a tangle of limbs and soft blankets, lay alessia, ella, and, to your surprise, sage, fast asleep. the living room was dimly lit by the fairy lights that they had obviously set up, casting a gentle, soothing glow on their faces.

you shared a look of mild amusement and slight exasperation with your wife. sage was clearly meant to be in bed, and by the looks of the empty sweet wrappers on the coffee table, the 'no sweets after dinner' rule had been enthusiastically ignored. yet, seeing them all there, so peaceful and content, it was hard to stay angry when they looked so peaceful.

with a silent chuckle, mary whispered, "so much for rules, huh?" Her voice was soft, filled with warmth, mixed with a slight irritation for the mischievous younger girls, but it was okay, - she'd get them back in training anyway.

carefully, so as not to wake your little girl, you both quietly approached the couch. mary gently scooped up sage, cradling her in her arms. you quietly picked up the stray sweet wrappers and straightened up the room a bit, all the while watching mary carry sage to her bedroom.

in sage's room, mary gently tucked the little girl into bed, arranging her pillows and pulling the covers up to her chin. you both took your turns kissing her forehead, before silently turning off the lights. you both stood there for a moment, watching her sleep, her chest rising and falling rhythmically in the quiet of the room.

you both couldn't believe how lucky you were to call sage your own.

as you both retreated from sage's room, you made your way back to the living room. before gently laying a warm blanket over the two older girls, chuckling at the identical drool dripping from both their mouths. you both sat next to alessia and ella on the couch, sighing at their poor babysitting skills. you did your best to cover your laughs at the mess they had made of your house in only a few hours.

"seems, like we have three children now." mary joked, although you knew she referred to the two girls as her 'unwanted children', the both of them constantly begging for advice from the older woman, they really did love you both.

making your way to your own bedroom, you settled into bed with a comfortable silence taking over the room. you snuggled your body close to the blonde, her hand subconsciously combing through your hair. "I love you," mary's voice broke the silence. "thank you for everything you do for me. i couldn't have won without you." she admitted, lips pressing softly against your temple.

"i love you too, mary." you tucked your head into the crook of her neck.

"my golden girl."

#mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community

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wileys-russo · 7 months

Note

saw a tiktok and ran to ask this….could we please get a mearps x reader blurb where reader is pregnant and they’ve invited lessi and ella round, tell them they’ve got presents for them and when they open it they both have a little baby shirt (you can decide wether it’s england kit or their club shirts) with their name on the back. i just know they would be the best aunts ever omg…

hypothetically in this let’s say less stayed with man utd for the sake of the plot and not her sanity 🫶🏻 part of the a date to remember universe series

a bit small || m.earps

“mary, love you’re gonna wear a hole in the poor carpet if you keep pacing back and forth like a mad woman.” you chuckled as your wife sat back down beside you, nervously bouncing her knee instead.

“i can’t help it! i don’t know why I’m so nervous, i wasn’t even this nervous to tell our families.” the blonde rambled as you extended a hand and rested it gently on her knee. “look at me.” you called out softly, knowing how her anxiety affected her and what to do to try and ease it.

“whats three things in the room that are blue?” you asked, squeezing her knee and nodding encouragingly. “er that photo frame, the fifa ball and…the clock.” mary sighed, her knee stopping bouncing as you repeated the question going through a few different colours until eventually your wife had settled.

“baby i get why you’re nervous, they’re like our already grown up children and their opinion means a lot to you. we knew our families would be supportive because they knew we were trying, none of the girls do and you’re worried how they’ll react.” you smiled softly as mary nodded, her head coming to rest on your shoulder as you played with her fingers, a comfortable silence falling between the two of you momentarily.

“they really are like our daughters hey, jesus we’ll be great mums we’ve already had a load of practice!” your wife perked back up, back to her normal joking self as you nodded in agreement, pressing a tender kiss to her lips.

“yeah and at least we’ve got a fair few years before this ones calling us drunk at 3am for a lift home or crying into a pint of ice cream on the lounge about relationship problems.” you grinned as your wife let out a pelt of laughter.

“our child isn’t dating anyone till they’re at least twenty five.” mary shook her head sternly as you smacked her arm. “we started seeing one another when we were eighteen!”

“yeah and look how that ended up, im stuck with you for life now.” mary sighed as you scoffed, the goalkeeper quick to grab your face and pepper it with kisses, mumbling about how there wasn’t anyone else she’d rather spend her life with.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” mary spoke up much softer, gently tugging up your top and sweetly kissing your stomach a few times, her hands gently placed either side.

“now you listen here junior you protect those hands in there yeah? you’re an earps now you’ve got keeping in your blood and we have to protect those little golden fingers.” mary spoke to your stomach sternly making you laugh and smack her gently.

“what if our baby doesn’t want to play football?” you teased, your wife only scoffing at the thought.

before she could tell you off for even insisting that though the doorbell went, and when neither of you answered within the first ten seconds, it went again, and again, and again.

“right that’s it, im gonna kill them!” mary smacked her legs with a determined nod and stood to her feet, charging off toward the door and you chuckled as you heard her sternly telling off the two younger girls before their footsteps sounded, shuffling closer as they chattered away.

“couldn’t even come and greet us at the door? lazy!” ella scoffed sarcastically with a roll of her eyes as she sauntered in first, spotting you laid back on the L shaped couch with an amused smile.

“why bother when i know half the time you show up uninvited and just let yourselves in?” you smirked as alessia arrived, flanked by your wife who was fiddling nervously with her wedding ring, the only telltale sign of her worries as her face remained unbothered.

“it’s not breaking and entering if you use a key!” ella replied in a duh tone, kissing your cheek hello and sinking down into the opposite side of the lounge. “i really don’t think that defence will hold up in court tooney.” mary patted the girls shoulder with a chuckle.

“hello daughter!” you greeted the tall blonde with a smile as alessia made an instant beeline for you, and you watched marys eyes widen as she realised less would likely flop on top of you for a bear hug as she normally did.

you’d been able to avoid it for the last few weeks, always making sure you were stood when she’d arrive and initiating the hug so she wouldn’t grow suspicious. alessia and you always had quite a close bond from the moment you met her, the blonde gravitating toward you even more than she had to mary which you often happily used to wind up your very pouty wife.

“not today less! got an upset stomach.” you managed to lie quickly and held out your hands to stop her before mary could speak, the younger girl nodding in understanding and instead sitting right beside you and pulling you into a hug.

“so what are we watching then?” ella clapped, moving her feet to rest on the coffee table as mary swiftly kicked them off, moving to stand in front of her. it was an unspoken sunday tradition between the four of you that every sunday the two young footballers would come to your home for a roast dinner, so you’d strategically planned to tell them about the pregnancy on a sunday so there wasn’t any sort of alarm bell raised and nothing was out of order.

“strictly come dancing obviously, and the roasts in the oven! but first, we have a present for the two of you.” mary announced with a clap, gesturing for alessia to move to sit closer to ella before she popped out of the room.

the two girls immediately launched question after question at you which you only answered with a shake of your head and a smile, refusing to give anything away.

though mary was quick to return, balancing two large white boxes in her hands. “oo is it a cake!” ella asked excitedly with wide eyes, making grabby hands as mary carefully handed each girl their box.

“find out for yourselves, at the same time now!” mary smiled softly at the girls before moving her affectionate gaze your way, her eyes dropping down to your stomach which was well hidden behind a baggy old england jersey.

“er look this is dead cute and all but i think these might be a bit small for us!” tooney frowned as she moved aside the crete paper and picked up the tiny man united jersey with her last name and number on the back.

“are you serious?” alessia of course caught on right away, looking in between you and mary with wide eyes full of shock and jaw slackened. “very serious.” you answered softly, sending mary a lovesick smile as ellas frown deepened and she stared down at the jersey in her hands wondering what she was missing.

then finally, the ball dropped.

“YOU’RE HAVIN A BABY?”

“surprise!” you cheered, both you and mary unable to keep the shit eating smiles off your faces at their screams of excitement. the two girls rushed to mary first, tackling their team mate and showering her with congratulations.

then it was your turn next and you winced as both girls jumped almost on top of you. “oi idiots watch it! she’s pregnant!” mary hurried over and pulled them off, helping you to stand as instead both girls squeezed you in a very tight and loving hug.

“how far along?” ella asked with a grin, bouncing happily on the balls of her feet. “seventeen weeks.” you revealed and if their jaws hadn’t already hit the floor by now they certainly did at that reveal, both girls exploding into questions and scoffs of disbelief you hadn’t told them sooner.

but those all fell silent as mary gave you a look and you nodded, your wife carefully lifting up the jersey to reveal your bulging stomach. “oh my god you’re SHOWING?” alessia squealed, both her and ella ducking their heads to gently kiss your stomach which made you laugh and playfully shove their heads away.

“do you know what you’re having?” ella asked with a beaming grin as you and mary nodded. “but you’ll have to wait until the gender reveal to find out, we aren’t telling anyone until then, not even our mums.” mary explained as she kissed the side of your head with a soft smile, rubbing your back affectionately.

“can we feel? is that a weird question?” ella asked with a concerned frown and you shook your head, grabbing one of each of their hands and placing it carefully on your stomach as mary watched on protectively, holding up your jersey out of the way.

a few seconds passed before ella screamed and quickly pulled her hand away, scaring alessia who stumbled backwards and almost fell down if not for mary scrambling to grab and steady her.

“was that a kick?” ella asked in shock as you nodded, taking both of her hands this time and placing them on your stomach, the girl squealing in delight as she once more felt the baby kick, alessia swiftly elbowing her out of the way for her own turn.

“stop it! both of you.” you chuckled as they began to bicker, silencing them with a firm look as mary sighed lovingly.

“my love you are going to be the best mum.”

“hey lessi, can we chat for a second?” you murmured quietly to the younger girl as ella disappeared to help your wife clean up after dinner, all of you having finished for the night.

“come on.” you nodded for her to follow you, stepping out and moving to sit on your patio, groaning slightly as you bent down to take a seat on the stairs, alessia right beside you.

“so. you and I have always had quite the bond yeah?” you started with a soft smile, bumping your shoulder into the strikers who nodded happily in agreement. it was true, from the moment mary had joined united and become quite close with the girls you’d always had a particularly strong connection within both ella and alessia.

but alessia reminding you a lot of your own younger sister molly and without the girl having ever had sisters of her own you found you’d taken her under your wing, mary often joking more like mother and daughter as you smacked her and would always remind she was older than you.

“now look i am about to ask you something but i need you to know that there isn’t any pressure at all about a yes, or even any sort of answer for a few weeks.” you continued, the blondes eyes now narrowing in concern as she still nodded along none the less.

“right.” alessia confirmed hesitantly, rubbing her hands on her knees as she awaited what was to come next.

“obviously the baby is going to have a lot of aunties, but would you like to be the godmother?”

a tense silence followed after that question, alessia opening and closing her mouth like a fish as she struggled to find the words.

“yes, absolutely yes oh my god!” the girl threw herself at you in a hug, though careful not to hit you too hard as you squeezed her tightly. “but you can’t tell anyone, not even tooney. mary and I are still working out who else we ask, we’d like to have four godparents, two from either side of our circles.” you explained as alessia assured over and over she completely understood, kissing your cheek and pulling you into another tight hug.

“…can i still tell tooney I’m definitely going to be the favourite aunt though?”

#woso x reader #woso #mary earps x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #mary earps #woso imagine #engwnt #ella toone x reader #ella toone #alessia russo x reader

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upsidedownwithsteve · 7 months

Note

Ooo aus? How would simmer Eddie react to weird pregnancy cravings?

TW: mentions of pregnancy

“Baby, m’not fuckin’ makin’ you that.”

Eddie sounded gruff, almost mean, but you knew better. His eyebrows were pinched together, all despair and with slight disgust.

But you were pouting, glassy eyed and bottom lip trembling, truly living up to your crybaby status but the get of jail free card was the fact that you were three - almost four - months pregnant. And your child’s father was not impressed with your cravings.

“Eddie,” you tried to whine, tried to sound dramatic and petulant about it but the hormones made you sound too close to actual tears.

Fuck.

“Babe, no, c’mon,” Eddie rounded the work station, wiping his hands on his apron before clasping your warm face in his palms. Your cheeks squished, your bottom lip pushed out more and Eddie was a goner. He tried again, softer. “Baby, that’s disgusting, y’know that right?”

The dinner service at the restaurant had yet to begin and seeing as it was a Wednesday in April, the kitchen wasn’t as manic as it could’ve been. You were perched on one of the stools, your growing belly bundled under a sweater and you’d used the excuse of Eddie’s lunch break to come in the back door, waving to your husbands staff before finding him taste testing a huge pot of soup.

He’d asked you if you’d wanted some, something warm and savoury and hearty as he kissed you hello and you’d smiled before requesting something that was entirely off the menu.

“But baby wants it,” you mumbled, pouting further.

“I don’t know if you’re referring to yourself or squish,” Eddie snorted, already pulling out the ingredients for your request.

Your eyes lit up. “Both,” you told him and behind you, Lucas, the sous chef laughed.

“You gotta keep your lady happy, boss,” he intoned, winking at you. “Happy wife, happy li—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie grumbled, waving him away. He stared down at his chopping board once more, knife hovering hesitantly. “Really though, babe? You couldn’t be craving… I don’t know, some pesto ravioli?”

“No,” you were short with him now, too hungry to argue anymore. But you batted your lashes once more for effect. “I want that.”

That just so happened to be a pickle and strawberry jam sandwich, finished off with precisely three and a half Oreos on the side.

Eddie huffed and then peered over at you. You were all glowing cheeks and bright eyed, pretty even though you’d had a restless nights sleep with back pain and some nausea. You grinned at him, excited, your hands slipping over your little bump, a subconscious move you’d started to do and it made him fucking melt.

Eddie would’ve carved out a slice of the world for you then, if you’d asked. Served it on a golden platter, seasoned it with stars.

“What my baby wants, my baby gets,” Eddie told you and he began slicing the pickles just the way you liked.

You gasped, elated and leaned over the counter to smack a kiss to his cheek. “You talking about me or squish?” You asked him his own question, grinning.

“Both,” he replied.

SEND IN AN AU BLURB REQUEST 💌

#Eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fic #Eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie munson blurb #eddie munson imagine #Eddie munson oneshot #Eddie baby blurb #linecook!eddie #simmer blurb

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chaosandmarigolds · 17 days

Note

imma request more bc that adoption one actually sent me to the heavens and back..

so i have a similar idea that i wanna throw out there but have it be Dad!simon riley and foster/adopted!reader. Have like, their interactions when reader has to first meet simon, and simon is able to bond with reader bc hes traumatized too

it can be like a headcannon style or a one shot, whatever idea striked you.

like actually can i be you? like you write SO GOOD so QUICKLY my writers block could NEVER

(I'm actually a Tomato right now I'm blushing so much in my school library what- thank you so much!! your words will live rent-free in my head for the next seven to eight weeks ngl

Ahem ahem I have a new thingy- Adoptive dad Simon! lil blurb (700-1000 words i think) & foster!care reader (i don't think I used gendered pronouns but if I did please remind me)

For the record, you never thought yourself to be a problematic child, sure you were a little unruly and you lived by your own rules but to be honest any person in your situation would be the same. A child whose childhood was ripped from you the second your father grabbed a beer bottle and the rest you preferred to keep locked away under a lock with a key you kept away. So you sat in your social workers office for what you thought was the billionth time in the month, hands mindlessly fiddling with your hoodie string and eyes staring out the window.

Birds. You always wondered what it would be like to be a bird, it must be nice, to be free like one at least- no matter how cliche the thought you enjoyed it.

Only for it to be ripped from you as you hear your named hissed from the workers, Margi's, mouth. With a grumble you turn to look at her from across the oak table, trinkets from her perfect life adorning it, and her perfect little family in a golden frame, staring at you- made you sick.

"Seventh school, seventh! Are you trying to have to move counties again?" She snipped at you, her voice dull as she typed something into her computer.

"Maybe I am."

Margi gives you a look, a frown written across her face, "What does that mean?"

"The Wilsons, Adams, Johnsons, Kievs, they all suck and they were mean."

"They were mean?" She mocked your voice and then scooted her chair to face you fully, "I'm trying here, kid, I'm trying. But you-" she shuttered a laugh as if she just found your mere presence unbearable, "You make it so hard, you're goin to Douglas county."

A look is etched across your face as you take in the news, Douglas was forty miles away, so the news was a bit shocking. "Wha-"

"There is a single man-"

"No."

"Yes. You'll sleep here and he's picking you up in the morning."

It was stupid, Price had told him he needed to find purpose in his life and that fostering might fulfill that- well...he didn't realize his captain meant dogs and cats and somehow he had passed to be a foster parent. For reasons that are beyond him. So there he was, four foster kids deep- all adopted within two or so months and then going to their new homes. He wouldn't lie, he didn't like any of them but he was sure to be as kind as possible, as...open as he could (which is close to none) but according to the children he did a great job.

Somehow.

There was a new one, problematic from the file, a story reading a bit too close to his own that he almost didn't want to take it up for the sake of his own mental clarity. However, it was urgent, and there was a need and the solider in him urged him to go on and fulfill it. So that is why he was now standing in the police station at six in the morning an hour away from his home.

A brief conversation with the social worker and a few police officers that had encounters with you, all warning him with the banter of your antics and that if he had any common sense he'd 'slap some sense into you' All of that he just responded with a glare and changing the topic.

Then they brought you out your lively hood packed into a small and tattered black and blue duffle bag and clothes a bit worse for wear, looking exhausted upon all of that. Simon made eye contact with you for a moment, it almost seemed like a stare-down- until the social worker cut in-between you both.

She motions to you as she introduces you to him and she then motions to him, trying to take your bag to hand to him but you had an iron grip, "Mister Riley-"

"Simon." He interjected, giving the worker a look, "Call me Simon."

You bite back a smile at how flustered Margi became by his correction and after a few more warnings of how you like to run away and skip school and everything you had a tendency to do you sit on the bench in the building. A good forty or so minutes passed and you wouldn't lie you were hungry so as soon as 'Simon' came over you chirpped up, following as he had motioned for you to do.

"Could we get some food?"

Simon stayed quiet until you reached the truck, letting you put your duffle bag into the back and then stopping you from getting in the front, checking your height against his chest and then with a breif motion of the hand told you to sit in the back.

Alright. You thought, not a big talker.

"Diner okay?"

"There's a good one down the street-"

Simon hums and grabs his phone from his pocket as he buckles up, holding it back for you to take, "Put it in the gps, yeah?"

A faltering silence as you stared at the phone, which was new, normally your foster parents wouldn't let you touch anything of theirs- much less a piece of technology. An unlocked piece of technology.

"Can I get juice?" You ask quietly as you look over the menu, subconsciously looking for the cheapest option.

"Mmhm, what else?"

To that you look up, "An...and pancakes?"

"An' eggs."

"What?"

"An' eggs," he said again, looking up from his menu, "Growin, need protein."

"I don't...like eggs." You see his blonde eyebrows furrow to your words and you mumble on, "Not alone, I like potatoes and eggs but eggs alone make me gag."

"Then get potatoes an' eggs."

Darn, there goes pancakes. So when the waitress comes back over she gets Simon's order and then yours, and you ask for the potatoes and eggs, only for when she left Simon to be staring you down.

"Have you ever been told you're scary?"

"All th' time. Though' you wan' pancakes."

A moment and you blink, "You said to get eggs and potatoes."

"Get al' three."

"But that's expensive."

"Ah, yea- 20 dollar's for a meal tha' gonna make you full an' happy is expensive," He dully replied, and then your expression he did his best to soften his expression, "Kid, is okay, yeah? Don' feel bad."

You sniffle as you see the waitress come over with your juice and his very boring black coffee, "Can I actually pancakes?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't."

(anywaaay that's it! hope you liked it! <33 ps. i love feedback and comments it truly makes my day!

#simon fluff #simon riley x platonic! reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon riley imagine #dad!simon riley #dad simon riley #dad!ghost #call of duty mw3 #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost #ghost call of duty #cod imagine #ghost cod #coco's chaos <3

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golchahrs · 2 years

Text

[6:32 am] jibeom squeezed your hand and pulled you closer to his side as you two are walking down the quiet, early morning street. the sky is beginning to light up as street lamps turn off for the day, a couple of corner stores are preparing to open up, and the chirping of birds can be heard somewhere in the near distance. the brisk air kissed your cheeks and jibeom smiled when he saw you scrunch your face up momentarily.

“i feel like it’s way too early, but i love it,” you commented.

jibeom hummed in agreement. “it’s nice, isn’t it?”

as the sun rose and the warm beams hit your face, jibeom couldn’t help but be awestruck. so once again, he tugged on your hand, only to swiftly turn his body and place a kiss right at the corner of your lips.

“i love you,” he whispered, nuzzling his face towards yours for a bit.

you broke out into a grin and gave him a peck back. when you pulled away, the sunlight lit up his eyes and they sparkled with love and admiration.

“i love you too.”

#golden child #gncd #golcha #golden child scenarios #golden child imagines #golden child fluff #golden child blurb #kim jibeom #jibeom #*kisses

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baddestbittyontheblock · 6 months

Text

alexia putellas fic recs (3/4)

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

࣪𑁍 ˖ from that first moment alexia putellas x reader

-you looked up when you heard the bell on top of the door go, not really expecting anyone when most people were at home having dinner. it was only you and your best friend working with how quiet it had been and you could feel her gaze on you as the person approached the counter

࣪𑁍 ˖ instagram live alexia putellas x fem!reader | pure fluff, just alexia and you being so in love that it makes fans sick

-reader and alex do a live together and alexia looks at the reader with loving eyes and answers questions together all with cuteness.

࣪𑁍 ˖ pinkie pie from my little pony alexia putellas x reader

-the bet

࣪𑁍 ˖ shout it out to the world alexia putellas x lioness!reader

-alexia and lioness reader fic from the world cup final? like they’ve been together for a while but haven’t told anyone so it sort of gets revealed when they congratulate/ comfort eachother

࣪𑁍 ˖ alexia blurb alexia putellas x reader

-you know I get so forgetful looking in her eyes.

-my heart is yours.

࣪𑁍 ˖ golden alexia putellas x reader

-alexia had long been the attraction of many wanting females around the world. She had dealt with the attention relatively well, managing to remain somewhat private. That didn’t stop people from scrutinising her love life.

࣪𑁍 ˖ sidelines alexia putellas x fem!reader | fluff, insecurities, brief mention of what happened last year with the Spanish federation.

-spain won the world cup. but she didn't care about it, she cares about the happiness that it brings to someone else.

࣪𑁍 ˖ watch it alexia putellas x reader

࣪𑁍 ˖ caught alexia putellas x Fem!león!reader | acceptance, protective!mapi, fluff, suggestive themes, (slightly) implied smut, angst (im not sure if its angst but mapi is hurt she wasnt told)

-You had planned on telling your sister but, you kind of liked the secrecy and maybe one day you'll be like 'oh hey btw...'. That didn't come, your sisters girlfriend is the one who discorvers this relationship of yours

࣪𑁍 ˖ secret love alexia putellas x reader | smut, jealousy and insecurities.

-this story takes place during the 2023 World Cup in Australia. Part 2 is HERE

࣪𑁍 ˖ two’s a company, three’s a crowd alexia putellas x reader x lucy bronze | 18+ minors DNI (heavy smut, cunnilingus, fingering, sex toys)

࣪𑁍 ˖ prometeme (promise me) alexia putellas x streamer!reader | fluff

࣪𑁍 ˖ hindi ko na kaya [i can’t take it anymore] alexia putellas x reader

-you’re the one that lights up her world, so when she’s in the state of darkness, she needs the light.

࣪𑁍 ˖ take me home alexia putellas x reader | smut

-it’s late, but you have a visitor you can’t turn away. (think ‘style’ by taylor swift)

࣪𑁍 ˖ secret love II alexia putellas x reader

-A few hours after leaving your hotel room, you return there hoping to be as discreet as you were before. Part one is HERE

࣪𑁍 ˖ give them something to talk about alexia putellas x reader

-you struggled at first, not playing beside Alexia after her injury put her out for so long. You had never gone this long without playing besides your girlfriend and the change was difficult.

࣪𑁍 ˖ bello jelly. alexia putellas x reader | spanish!reader, stubborn and jealous alexia, middle wc, there is no difference between alexia and a child.

-Rule number one, never wear someone else's sweatshirt at your girlfriend's presence.

࣪𑁍 ˖ i protect alexia putellas x reader

-reader being a bit younger maybe also a tad bit younger than Alba. But reader is really protective especially when they are out and get swarmed by fans and press. R protects Alba and makes sure that nothing bad happens. Alexia is super glad that her girl is such a gentlewomen.

࣪𑁍 ˖ alexia jr. alexia putellas x reader | angst

-where R is Alexia’s and Alba's little sister and joins the Barca team. For some reason the whole team only seems to notice the older and the same goes for the international teams and media. R feels in the shadow and doesn’t want to hurt her sister's feelings so bottle everything up.

࣪𑁍 ˖ sanctuary alexia putellas x reader | angst, fluff

-your limbs went limp as one of the things you had always wanted slid through your hands as the final whistle blew, and it felt as though your heart took its final beat.

࣪𑁍 ˖ coffee and cupid alexia putellas x reader | fluff, strangers2lovers, barista!reader

-how you and Alexia meet

࣪𑁍 ˖ if i was a man mapi león/alexia putellas x readers | talk about the Rubiales case and it's a longer oneshot than usual

-OCs are sisters, face claims are the women in the picture underneath: Luisa Ruiz Moreno is a journalist and is dating Mapi Leon, Elena Ruiz Moreno is a football player for Barcelona and Spain, she's in a long-term relationship with Alexia Putellas

࣪𑁍 ˖ not the plan alexia putellas x reader | touchy men/unwanted touching, a little bit of angst, protective Alexia

-a man gets a bit too close to you during post-match celebrations, much to the displeasure of a certain Spanish midfielder.

࣪𑁍 ˖ against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part three alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader | explicit sexual content

࣪𑁍 ˖ sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in our heart part 4 alexia putellas x reader

-at the same time you couldn’t deny that you would enjoy the quietness and especially the alone time with Alexia. Having an energetic four year old around all the time was one of the most tiring experiences you’d ever had.

࣪𑁍 ˖ holy alexia putellas x afab!reader | top!reader, making out, riding, shy!R, resolved sexual tension, roommates, pervy!Alexia, daddy kink, frustrated sex

-alexia gets a pleasant surprise when you finally react to all her teasing

࣪𑁍 ˖ off limits (2) a.putellas x león!reader | angst

-"...alexia?"

࣪𑁍 ˖ new girlfriend alexia putellas x reader

-Only I belong with you and only you babe.

-I hope you find peace for yourself, -New girlfriend ain’t gonna fill the void.

࣪𑁍 ˖ too hot alexia putellas x fem!reader | SMUT, oral (r giving), fingering (r receiving), strap-on (r receiving), slight mami kink, degradation? praise?

-you guys finally have a day to yourself so you can be as loud as you want

࣪𑁍 ˖ professional athletes alexia putellas x reader

-as a professional athlete in your own right, you always thought you had a grasp on how crazy it can get, and how intrusive the fans could be. That was until you met Alexia Putellas. Once you were introduced to the Ballon D’or winner you realised how hard it was to have a private life and be a true professional athlete.

࣪𑁍 ˖ olympics alexia putellas x reader | fluff

-making the Olympic team was a dream of yours ever since you 10 and you won your first junior golf tournament. Getting to represent Canada one the world stage was not something you had ever imagined. You had just received the phone call that you were selected for the Canadian Olympic golf team. You tried not to squeal, as you were in a quiet hallway after sneaking out of a press conference your girlfriend was the star of.

࣪𑁍 ˖ las reinas alexia putellas x reader | fluff

-sneaking out of dinner with your national teammates was a common occurrence. They always teased you but they never knew who you snuck out to talk to. Finding a small closet just off the dining area you answered the face time call on your phone “Hi Babe.”

࣪𑁍 ˖ night whispers, beach blisters alexia putellas x fem!reader | fluff, slight angst, comfort

-it's late, possibly too late. But you're there with her. Somethings are bothering you, and she makes sure you know she's there for you. On that beach, in that car, forever and always.

࣪𑁍 ˖ movin'. alexia putellas x reader

-2x Ballon D’or winner Alexia Putellas is set to move to Chelsea from Barcelona.

࣪𑁍 ˖ she said yes alexia putellas x reader

-It was a day off for both of you, but Alexia was doing a podcast with two Americans because her manager thought it would be a good idea to interact with more English-speaking fans.

࣪𑁍 ˖ labor omnia vincit. alexia putellas x reader | a little bit of drugs and alcohol

-well, it’s how you meet your wife (posh + becks style)

࣪𑁍 ˖ 10 things i hate about you (1) alexia putellas x reader

-FC Barcelona was set to play against Atletico Madrid on this Sunday. As you were getting ready with your team mates in the changing room, you could hear the fans slowly fill the stadium. You were in the motion of tying your shoes when Mapi bumped you with her hip. You looked up to see her grinning at you; “Your sister is in the stands and will watch us.“ “Yes, but I know she’ll mostly watch you.“, you replied, rolling your eyes with fondness. You watched the defenders cheeks flush red; “Me?“

࣪𑁍 ˖ 10 things i hate about you (2) alexia putellas x reader

-2017, your first day as a player for FC Barcelona was about to start. With a deep sigh you entered the facilities. Overwhelmed by the amount of new impressions, you didn’t realize that another person stepped to you. You flinched in surprise when you heard a female voice say; “Hola! Are you new here too?“

࣪𑁍 ˖ three things alexia putellas x reader

-a blurb about bf ale comforting reader after a nightmare

࣪𑁍 ˖ lap dance alexia putellas x reader | 18+ dni (strapons, smuts, cunnilingus, lap dances, stripping)

-stripper r x post world champs alexia

࣪𑁍 ˖ against all odds (to wait for you is all i can do) – part four alexia putellas x photojournalist!reader | explicit sexual content

-It didn’t stop after the first and it sure didn’t stop after the third, either.

࣪𑁍 ˖ mess of a mind alexia putellas x reader | reader has ADHD

-Alexia's life is much more chaotic with you and your ADHD - but she wouldn't change it for a thing

࣪𑁍 ˖ fighting talk alexia putellas x reader

-England had beaten Australia and you knew what it meant.

Spain versus England in the World Cup Final.

࣪𑁍 ˖ remotes and notebooks alexia putellas x reader

-reader is being purposely annoying alexia as good as she can

࣪𑁍 ˖ off limits (3) alexia putellas x león!reader

-if it was team cohesion alexia wanted, then you were determined to give it to her.

࣪𑁍 ˖ skinny dipping alexia putellas x reader

-based off the song 'skinny dipping' by Sabrina Carpenter

࣪𑁍 ˖ on the sidelines wag!alexia putellas x basketball player!reader

-“A triple double, Y/n, one incredible feat, how do you feel knowing that your team is through to the play offs?”

#woso x reader #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #espwnt x reader #espwnt #barca fc #barca femeni #barca #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas

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oncasette · 11 months

Note

𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂. send in a character + a scenario for a blurb + 𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔

with the prompt [ HAIR ] from the second list for baby peeta pls roro <33

peeta always seemed softer when he slept. when he really slept, that is. when his nights weren't infected with the rot leftover from the capitol's games, and that crease between his brows relaxed.

his bangs fall over his forehead as he shuffles under the thin top sheet covering his hips, blocking his closed eyes from your gaze. you're not totally sure what brings you to push the golden hair back, to tuck it behind his ear, but you're sure the reason you allow your touch to linger there is the way he keens into your palm.

he mumbles your name in his sleep. it's so quiet you wouldn't have heard it if you hadn't already been listening.

you hush him like he's a small child, like he's something that could break into tears at the smallest action. "it's okay. go back to sleep."

#peeta mellark #peeta mellark x reader #the hunger games imagine #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader

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lovebugism · 4 months

Note

If you’re still taking requests for the blurbs could I request my favorite couple Punchy and Steve with this prompt?

“let’s wear matching ugly christmas sweaters to the party! ❞

thank u for requesting lovie! — hours before the harrington holiday party, steve's worried if his parents will like you while you think of ways to make the whole thing more fun (punchy x steve universe, hurt/comfort, 0.9k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Cotton sheets cling to Steve’s sweat-slick body. He lies face down on the mattress, curls his golden arms around the pillow that smells most like you, and smushes his cheek into the center of it. He watches with heavy eyelids as you flit around the bedroom, only half-dressed — the high-strung thing that you are.

You stand outside your closet in black cotton underwear and a striped pink bra, ciphering through all of your clothes until you have three different outfits hanging on your arm. They’re all in black, but Steve’s been with you long enough to know that they’re all varying shades of the same color. (He thinks you might’ve made up the color heather grey charcoal, though).

“I take it you’re excited for tonight?” the boy teases when you set your clothes on the foot of the mattress. His smile is rosy and half-hidden in the pillow, weighed down by fatigue and all the love he has for you.

“Of course, I am!” you insist, giddy in a way he hasn’t really seen you. “You’re not?”

“No,” he answers plainly, pouting like a child.

Your laugh sounds like sunshine compared to the rain cloud he is. “Don’t be so grumpy. It’ll be fun.”

Steve scoffs and turns onto his back, folding his toned arms under his wild head. The thin sheet wraps around his waist accordingly. His chestnut-colored happy trail peeks from beneath it — just for you, you think.

“It’s a Christmas party. At my parents’ house,” he explains in a monotone. “I think that's the furthest thing from fun, babe.”

“Well, we can make it fun,” you shrug, as unfazed as ever. It makes sense. Excitement tends to follow you wherever you go. “We can, like, sneak in booze or something. Oh— or smoke in your childhood bedroom! That would be fun.”

“My parents would freak.”

You think for a moment, then shrug again. “I mean, we could wear matching ugly Christmas sweaters or something. That’s innocent and fun.”

Steve doesn’t mean to laugh, but a small chuckle spills from his kiss-bitten mouth before he can stop it. “You’re so cute,” he mumbles lowly, honey eyes sparkling with amusement and adoration.

“I know,” you concur as you smooth out the skirt of a black lace dress. You try to be nonchalant about the way his simple compliment stirs rays of sunshine within you, but they come bursting out of your sheepish smile anyway. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome,” he says, huffing as he rises on the mattress. Still slightly exhausted, he slouches and reaches lazily for you. His dramatic grabby hands make you scoff, but you gravitate towards him without thinking twice.

You fold your legs beneath you as his wide palms smooth over your waist. He squeezes gently at your love handles and tries to muster a smile. The pink expression wavers slightly at the edges.

“Just… Just don’t take it too hard if my parents are assholes at first, okay? Or if they’re, you know, cold or whatever. They’re not usually fans of… fun.”

Your grin never falters. “That’s okay,” you assure, light and sincere. “I’m one of the two town freaks, remember? I’m kinda used to people not liking me.”

You giggle about it, but Steve’s chest starts to ache. He thinks his heart might be breaking a little.

“They just need to get to know you, you know? Then they’ll fall in love with you. I know they will.”

His confidence makes you cower. You’re not as sure as he is about the whole thing. You’re not exactly rich-parent, nice-house, good-side-of-town material. You think you might be the exact opposite of who most people would want to bring home to their parents.

“You think so?” you murmur, hands fidgetting where they rest on the outsides of his biceps. You hope he doesn’t notice how clammy they are.

“I mean… I did,” he answers with a scrunched nose and twinkling eyes.

A beat of silence passes. Steve smiles until you roll your eyes at him. Then his brows pinch. “What’s that face for?” he asks, chuckling at the frown that furrows your brows.

“You’re so cheesy,” you grumble, shoving gently at his bare chest. Not enough to push him away, of course. Just enough to make a point.

His laugh is golden and utterly boyish. “But it’s true!”

“I know,” you insist with a small scoff in place of a laugh. “You didn’t look twice at me in high school, and now you’re naked in my bed. So obviously something switched.”

Steve flashes you a lopsided grin and tilts his scruffy jaw to his freckled shoulder. “Is it everything you ever dreamed of?” he teases.

“Oh. Totally,” you laugh. “I definitely had a wet dream about this once.”

His face swirls in disdain. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you love me. So who’s the real freak here?”

“It’s always gonna be you,” he says with a big, dumb smile. You roll your eyes again but let him kiss you, anyway. He tastes like sex and the frozen pizza you made him after. You’re sure you taste much of the same.

“And guess what?” he wonders when he pulls away.

Your face falls flat. You humor him even though you know what’s coming. “What?”

“I’m always gonna love you for it, too—”

You shove him away entirely. His boyish laugh follows you all the way to the bathroom.

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