#along with the laundry mat

[peonypyxels]

little thrift shop

[mapis-putellas]

Show off

Pairing: Alexia Putellas x Reader

Words: 1400

Warnings: none

Summary: Alexia challenges you to a pull-up competition.

Notes: this was fun to write. Enjoy <3

[Prompt list]

"Amor, come on!" Alexia complains as she loops her arms around your waist and rests her chin against your shoulder, peppering your face with soft kisses.

You roll your eyes exasperatedly. "Ale, I've already said no. You only want to do it to prove how much stronger you are than me." You pat her hands placatingly as you step out of her arms to continue with folding the laundry.

"What? No. That is not the truth," she exclaims in mock offence as she clutches at her chest. "You have been practicing, yes? At the gym with mapi?"

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you turn to face her. "Yes, I have. But it's been a week. How much progress do you think I would have been able to make in seven days, ale?"

Alexia shrugs as she easily lifts herself onto the counter, "I do not know. A lot?" She kicks her legs absently, ignoring the way you glare at her when her feet -clad in shoes might you add, hit the white cupboards below.

You sigh in relinquishment. "For you, maybe, but I'm very much a beginner. You, my love, are not."

"Sí, I know. But por favor, amor? For me?"

Alexia wasn't one to beg. In your three and a half year relationship, you think you’d only heard her do so a handful of times and the majority of those were in the bedroom. Otherwise, she could be very convincing when coaxing you into doing what she wants, so there was ultimately never any need for her to beg.

"Ale..." You trail off.

Alexia slides off of the counter, her feet landing on the floor with a soft thud. She makes her way over to you, large hands rising to cup your cheeks before leaning down and pressing her lips oh so tenderly against your own. You sigh on resignation as your own hands rise to rest on either side of her waist, fully aware that she had once again gotten her way.

A few moments later you pull away, eyes rolling when you were immediately met with a smirk.

"Okay. We can do a pull-up contest. But I have one condition." You warn.

Alexia nods seriously. "Sí, mi amor. Anything."

"Any teasing, smack talk or bragging, you're on the couch tonight. Understand?"

"Smack talk?" She tilts her head to the side.

You cup her face, tracing the pads of your thumbs beneath her eyes. "It's the act of criticizing another person. Which you will not do to me when you win."

Alexia immediately shakes her head as she takes your hands and places a gentle kiss to the insides of your wrist. "I will not bebé. Promise."

Prior experience has you want wanting to believe her, but figuring you would be nice and give her the benefit of the doubt, you let out a quiet sigh before begrudgingly nodding your head.

You can't help but laugh at the way her face lights up as she all but yanks you into her arms, your feet now dangling in the air as your hands clutch to the back of her shirt.

God, you were such a sucker.

"Okay, okay. When?" You breath, wiggling out of her arms before turning and placing the folded clothes into the laundry basket to be put away later. Or, well, whenever you get around to it if you were being completely honest with yourself. Probably sometime next week.

Your hand was immediately grabbed the second it was unoccupied, and you allow her to pull you out of the kitchen and towards her small home gym. There was a pull-up bar fixed to the doorframe, yoga mats and dumbbells in corner of the room along with many other pieces of equipment you’d yet to learn the names of.

"I will go first, amor," she pulls off her shirt leaving her in a black sports bra and red shorts. "You count, yes?"

Your eyes whip up from where they'd fallen down to her six pack, and you nod silently, watching as she smirks before raising her arms and grabbing onto the pull-up bar with ease. She was going before you could blink, arm muscles becoming more prominent as she lifts herself up and down like it was nothing.

Your eyes somehow seem to drift down to her six pack again on their own accord, and you decide it would probably be best to ignore her laugh so her ego didn't get any bigger than it already was.

She was back on the floor before you could even notice she was done, slightly out of breath as she rubs her hands together and makes her way over to you. Your eyes slowly climb up her body until they were staring into her own.

"Amor, did you count?" She reaches up and closes your mouth, and you flush heavily as you push her hand away and cross your arms against your chest. “You did not, did you?”

"Yes, I did." You feign your assertiveness a lot more confidently than you felt, and Alexia rolls her eyes knowingly as she nods her head in begrudging acceptance.

"How many?"

"Huh?”

“Pull-ups, bebé. How many?”

“Uhh…”

"Let's say, twenty, yes?" She grins, and you sigh dejectedly before nodding.

"Sure. Twenty." There was no way in hell you were going to be able to beat that. Seemingly having more confidence in you than you did in yourself, Alexia coaxes you over to the bar with a gentle hand on the small of your back.

"Ready?" She braces a hand on either side of your waist, and you take a deep breath before nodding and reaching up your arms. She lifts you with ease, making sure you had a good hold before rounding your body and standing a little in front of you.

Ignoring the fact your hands were beginning to burn already, you use all your strength and pull your chin up and over the bar with a quiet grunt.

"Sí. Muy bien bebé." Alexia praises, and you smile slightly as you once again pull yourself up and over the bar. You mange to repeat this three more times before your arms start to burn. Feeling a little pathetic at only being able to complete five pull-ups in comparison to Alexia’s

twenty, you grit your teeth and somehow manage to pull yourself up two before times before sending Alexia a look that says get me down.

Alexia steps forward and loops her dams beneath your behind immediately, and you let out a sigh of relief as you let go of the bar and rub your sore hands together.

Supporting your body with ease, Alexia looks up at you with a proud smile on her face. You can't help but mimic it as you circle your arms around her shoulders.

"Buena chica," she praises, leaning forward and kissing your chest. You flush just slightly. "I did not think you could do that many."

"It was only seven." You shrug.

"No no." Alexia shakes her head as she bounces you up slightly to get a better grip, your legs now hooked around her bare waist. "How many could you do before?"

"One, I think?" you struggle to recall the specific number due to Mapi yelling at you. Carry on chica. You got this! Use those chicken arms! You’d been quite offended honestly.

“Maybe two?" You doubt yourself.

"Exactamente! And you did seven today. That is five more, no? You are getting strong." She grasps your bicep between her hand and gives it a squeeze, making you laugh quietly as your own hands tangle through the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

"Soon I'll be stronger than you." You muse, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.

"No, amor," Alexia states seriously, and you tilt your head to the side. "No one is as strong as me."

"Oh, is that so?" You laugh, and Alexia grins smugly as she makes her way back over to the pull-up bar. You stare at her in confusion, aware she was up to something but not knowing what.

"Hold on tight." Is all she says in place of an explanation, and you can't help but yelp when she lets you go and reaches for the bar above you both.

Complying and wrapping your body completely around her own as tight as you physically could, you stare gobsmacked as she begins doing pulls-up with the same ease as before.

"Show off." You grumble, Alexia's laugh echoing around the room.

**

Tags:

@simp4panos @girlgenius1111 @goldenempyrean @codiemarin

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: fic for #13 on the 13th! i love mat and squeaks so much and the fact that you guys love them so much too just makes my heart expand like the grinch’s 🤍 they’re my favorites to write for and i hope you guys enjoy this one! so much more mat and squeaks to come 🥰

word count: 6.4k

tw: mentions of past miscarriages, mentions of fertility issues, anxiety, mentions of vomiting, pregnancy and all that goes along with it

summary: you and mat have an early christmas gift for talia (and inadvertently, the rest of the family too)

It’s way too early in the morning, cold and dark outside when Mat finds you in the bathroom, head in the toilet while you vomit. He gathers back your hair in a fist and brushes the stray wisps off your forehead. Otherwise, he’s quiet, just providing support for you.

You finish with one last dry heave and he holds your hand while you get shakily to your feet, leaning your free hand on the countertop. He keeps a hand solid on your lower back while fishing out a miniature bag of oyster crackers from a drawer in the vanity and sliding the Listerine bottle closer to you.

One swish of mouthwash and a few oyster crackers later, you’re feeling better. Not even close to perfect or normal, but better.

Mat opens his arms for you to step in and lean your cheek against his shoulder. His arms wrap around your upper back and yours loop to rest at his lower back. He’s warm and smells like the bergamont and lime Aesop soap bar in your shower and Tide laundry detergent, a little like animal crackers too, which is probably leftover from Talia waking up after he got home from Toronto the night before and making him come lay in her bed with her until she fell back asleep. Of course, Mat had fallen asleep in the too-small bed, the both of them snoring quietly when you left your bed to go find him.

“Lucky number thirteen,” he mumbles against the top of your head. His breath ruffles your hair and you snuggle closer to his chest. The worn fabric of his undershirt is soft against your cheek.

“And three days,” you reply, stomach flipping slightly. Whether it’s nausea or anxiety, you’re not sure. Likely a healthy combination of both.

“And three days,” Mat agrees. His hands rub circles over your back and you’re soothed enough that you could go back to sleep. Too bad you have a million things to do today, things to check off your list with only three days to go before Christmas.

“Maybe we should wait,” you say after a beat of comfortable silence. “Maybe we should wait for fourteen or fifteen weeks. It’s longer.”

It’s safer, you think but don’t say.

Thirteen weeks is longer than any of your past pregnancies too, other than Talia’s. But it still feels so early and so fragile. You’re trying so hard to be excited, and you are, but that excitement is tamped down by fear and anxiety.

Mat kisses the crown of your head. “Doctor said everything looked really good last week. And you’ve still got morning sickness, which you —“ He cuts himself off, but you know what he was going to say.

‘Which you didn’t with the last few’ - your symptoms had disappeared so early and you thought it was a blessing, that you weren’t vomiting every morning, that you weren’t as tired as you’d been with Talia. Turned out to be nightmare after nightmare.

But you nod against his chest, feeling grateful for the morning sickness that’s shown no sign of stopping, as long as it means a happy, healthy baby in just over six months. June can’t come soon enough.

“We can wait to tell T,” Mat continues, picking up as if he hadn’t stopped mid-sentence. “If you want. But Doctor Harmon said we were okay to start telling people and I think she’ll really like that Christmas present.”

At a delightfully hilarious five and a half, Talia’s been asking about a sibling pretty consistently for two or so years now. Especially after hanging around the team and seeing all the siblings in action. You know she’ll be thrilled for a baby brother or sister and that’s what worries you a little. If it goes badly, if it ends like the others, it’s not just yours and Mat’s heartbreak. It’s Talia’s too.

And you can handle your heartbreak, but you never want Talia to experience that.

“I can hear you thinking,” Mat chuckles, squeezing you closer to his chest. “I know you’re worried, I am too. But how can we let that perfectly wrapped present go to waste?”

His joke lands and you giggle, knowing the box hidden under your bed with Talia’s gift is wrapped with messy corners and too much tape, a Mat Barzal specialty. He’d insisted on wrapping the gift, “contributing to the process” since you were keeping the real present all bubble wrapped and safe in your womb.

“Okay, yes, yeah,” you repeat a few times, convincing yourself. “Let’s tell T and just…just enjoy the ride.”

Just enjoying the ride is something you’d worked really hard on in therapy the last few years, some days easier than others - the pile of ratty Moleskine journals hidden away in your closet full of your every thought from the past five years, good and bad. The newest one, coincidentally started on the day you’d gotten a positive pregnancy test, is already a quarter full of your up and down thoughts and scribbles.

“That’s my girl,” Mat’s hands cup your cheeks, tilting your face up so he can kiss you, even as you protest, reminding him of your vomit breath. He laughs as he kisses you anyway, mumbling, “minty,” against your mouth.

You shake your head at him, smiling. He squeezes your cheek and guides you back into the bedroom, flipping the light switch off. You settle on the bed, dragging a pillow into your lap and watch Mat start to get dressed even though it’s so early.

“I’ve got practice at 9:30,” he says, voice muffled as he pulls his undershirt over his head. You unashamedly watch his stomach muscles work, ogling his chest even though your libido is temporarily dead and buried. “We can wake T up and tell her before I go or we can do it when I get back.”

“When are you getting back?” You wrap a blanket around your shoulders, smothering a yawn in the fabric. A wave of exhaustion hits and you blink slowly. It’s too early for you to be awake on a normal day, but the extra pregnancy hormones have you both exhausted and unable to sleep. There’s no chance you’ll go back to bed, not when you have to finish getting the house ready for your Christmas guests.

Mat shrugs. “Depends. But probably around eleven, eleven thirty?”

He rummages through his drawers for a pair of sweats and you remind him that he has to go and pick up both sets of parents and Liana from the airport in the afternoon. “So maybe we should tell her now?” You chew at your thumbnail.

Fully dressed in casual athleisure for his drive to the practice rink, Mat nods and reaches over to pull your thumb away from your mouth. You scowl at him.

“I’ll go wake her up,” he laughs. “Even though she definitely could use some more sleep.”

You wave him off. “She’ll nap when you’re gone,” you reply. “Unless, of course, she wants to help me get the house ready.”

Mat raises an eyebrow at you, laughs, and heads down to Talia’s room. You grin at his retreating back and get up to rinse your mouth with Listerine again and give your teeth a good brush. You always feel gross after vomiting. Once you feel fresher and more awake, you change out of your sweaty pajamas and into a Christmas-appropriate dark green waffle knit lounge set. You feel much more human with real clothes on and you pat your stomach, a faint outward curve already forming between your hipbones.

This pregnancy is showing quicker than all the others, physical proof that you’re holding onto for your sanity.

“Mommy,” Talia’s whine precedes her and you smile automatically when you see Mat come back into your room with Talia curled up in his arms. Her face is buried in his neck and her dark curls are wild with bedhead. One leg of her cartoon Grinch patterned pajama bottoms is pushed halfway up her skinny calf and her arms are locked around Mat’s neck, her hands fisted in the fabric of his shirt, bunching it between his shoulders.

“Hi, baby,” you reply quietly, reaching out your arms for her. Mat transfers her to your lap and she curls up like a little cat, her cheek squished against your breast. “Daddy woke you up, huh?”

You smooth back her hair, the soft scent of her watermelon L’Oreal Kids shampoo wafting up to your nose. The French braid you’d tied her hair into last night is a wreck and you know she’ll complain when you have to brush out the knots later. But right now she’s so soft and sweet with sleep, seeming much younger than her five and a half years. You trace the tip of your finger over the slope of her nose and she wrinkles it at your touch, face relaxing again almost instantly.

“He said I had a s’prise,” she mumbles, blinking up at you. “But Christmas isn’t today.”

“Nope,” you agree and the mattress dips when Mat sits down next to you. “Christmas is in three days, but Daddy and I do have a gift for you early.”

That perks her right up, predictably. Talia blinks like a little meerkat, scrambling to sit up on your lap. She looks over at Mat, who’s grinning widely, and then back up at you.

“A gift before Christmas?” She asks, her ‘s’ whistling a little from the space left behind from the front baby tooth she’d lost a few days ago. “How come?”

Mat pulls the box out from under the bed and places it on Talia’s lap. “Because it’s a special gift and we wanted to give it to you early, since you’ve been such an awesome kid all year,” Mat says and you can hear the slight tremble in his voice. It reminds you that all of your fertility issues and miscarriages weren’t just hard on you, they were hard on Mat and he was a rock throughout everything, no matter what you threw at him emotionally. You reach out and squeeze his knee, giving him a small smile. He returns it with a wink.

Talia pokes her fingers into the corner of the wrapping paper, her sparkly nail polish catching in the light, and gives Mat an impish little smile. “Daddy wrapped this,” she says. “The corners are all wrinkly.”

You laugh at the roast and Mat’s jaw drops in fake outrage.

“They are not!” He yelps, reaching out to tickle Talia’s sides. She shrieks and wiggles, laughter echoing around the room.

“No! No, Daddy! Stop tickling!” She shrieks between gasping laughter and Mat relents, laughing too as he leans back into his spot. Talia’s hair is even messier, her cheeks flushed from laughter, and you can’t wait to have another one running around the house. A lump of emotion clogs your throat.

“I don’t like tickling,” she grumbles adorably and Mat apologies. Talia forgives him and pulls at the paper on her gift again. “Can I open now?”

You and Mat both nod and Talia wastes no time in ripping into the paper. Scraps go flying and Mat gathers them up, crumpling the paper in a ball that he tosses back and forth between his hands. Talia stops briefly when she sees the gift box and then tosses the lid off the side of the bed. You roll your eyes slightly at her dramatics, but then she’s pulling the sweater out of its tissue paper and laying it over your legs.

“What’s it say?” She cocks her head. Immediately, she recognizes the first word, “big,” and then starts sounding out the next, “si-sis-sister?”

You’re holding your breath while she sounds it out, your heart pounding when she wrinkles her nose and repeats, “big sister?”

Talia looks at you and then Mat, frowning while the wheels turn in her head. It takes a second and she repeats, “big sister? Me?” pointing at herself. Her eyebrows lift on her forehead.

Mat nods and you grin at her, “you’re going to be a big sister, love bug.”

It’s a surprise when Talia bursts into loud, hiccuping sobs and you’re caught unprepared. Tears stream down her face and she chokes for air, holding the sweater in a death grip, turning her knuckles white. Mat looks at you, wide-eyed and terrified of Talia’s reaction, until she wails, “I always wanted a baby!”

“Oh,” you cuddle her close, stroking her hair and letting her cry and snot all over your shirt. “Oh, my baby, I know. You’re overwhelmed. It’s okay, shhh, it’s okay.”

“I get a baby?” She asks and you nod even though she can’t see you. Tears well up in your eyes.

Mat’s hand rubs circles on her back and he’s whispering quietly to her, inaudible over the blood rushing in your ears.

“You’re going to have a sibling, love bug,” you say into her hair, choking on your own overwhelming emotion. “It’s really big news, right?”

Talia nods against you and you hear her blow her nose against your shirt. It’s gross, but you don’t mind.

She keeps wailing, crying happy tears and mumbling about how she always wanted a baby sibling like all of her friends. It cracks your heart and mends it all at once, knowing how long she’s waited and how happy she is to be finally getting a built-in best friend.

Tears drip down your cheeks and you feel Mat’s hand on your back, pulling you close. You and Talia are folded into Mat’s embrace, his palms cupping each of your heads to keep you close. Her cries settle down to a few sniffles and eventually she pulls back from your chest to look up at you.

Her big hazel eyes, Mat’s eyes, are red rimmed and still watery. You push damp strands of hair off her cheeks and kiss her forehead.

“I’m so happy, Mommy,” she says simply, lunging to throw her arms around your neck and squeeze you in a hug.

“I’m so happy too, TB,” you reply, the easiest and most honest words you’ve ever said.

Mat, never one to be left out, laughs and chimes in, “I bet you’re not as happy as me.” He kisses the top of Talia’s head, ruffling her hair. You can see a suspiciously wet shine to his eyes.

Talia leans from your lap to Mat’s, hugging his neck to tight it almost looks painful. “Nuh-uh,” she shakes her head. “I’m the happiest. I’m the happiest cause it’s my baby.”

“Hey,” you tickle her sides lightly, “it’s mine and Daddy’s baby too.”

She shrugs and grabs for her sweater again, yanking it on over her head. She pushes her hair out of her eyes with the backs of her hands, looking for all the world like an electrocuted mad scientist. “I’m gonna wear this forever and tell everyone I’m a big sister like Reese and Winnie,” she announces proudly, a huge missing-toothed smile splitting her face.

Her smile melts your heart and she starts rolling around on the bed, chanting “big sister, big sister,” to make you and Mat laugh.

You lean against Mat’s chest, his hands coming to rest on your stomach. He whispers in your ear, “I’m so glad we told her.”

“Me too,” you murmur back. Talia rolls back over to you and smooshes her face up against your stomach and Mat’s hands.

“My baby’s in there?” She asks and without waiting for an answer, kisses your stomach and says, “hi baby, I’m Talia. I’m your big sister and I love you.”

And that’s all it takes for your waterworks to start, tears flowing free and fast, to the point where Talia looks a little spooked and Mat has to shepard her downstairs for breakfast while you follow along a few minutes later, still sniffling and wiping at your eyes.

Mat serves you up a plate of pancakes, plain and no syrup to be easier on your stomach, and you kiss his cheek in return. He looks incredulous, “I make celebration pancakes and I only get a kiss on the cheek? Wow, Squeaks, wow.”

You roll your eyes at him and plant a dramatic, loud kiss on his lips, making Talia giggle over her own pancakes. There’s already a smudge of chocolate on her Big Sister sweater’s collar and you can’t help but smile.

Mat’s off to practice a little bit later and then it’s just you and Talia since school is already closed for the two-week break. She’s surprisingly clingy while you get the guest rooms ready for everyone, following at your heels with a handful of Calico Critters clutched in each palm.

She asks a million questions about the baby - when is it coming? Is it a boy or a girl? Is it gonna live in her room? Can we name it Sparky? (Late June, it’s going to be a surprise just like she was, it will live first in yours and Mat’s room and then will get its own room, and no. Definitely not.)

You flip through the pile of Christmas cards that have gone unopened for a few days, enjoying looking through the family pictures sent by all the wives and girlfriends you’ve made friends with throughout the years. A particularly cute family photo of Matthew Tkachuk, his wife, and their son makes you smile. Talia climbs up on a stool to look at the cards with you, pointing out each player that she knows and recognizes.

(“Mommy, did we send a card of me?” “Yes, baby, remember when you took a picture with us and Santa at Daddy’s work? We sent that one out.” “Oh, we should’ve sent the picture of me and Minnie at Disney ‘cause I looked real cute in that, Nana said so.”)

At some point, Talia dumps the Calico Critters back in their designated box and picks up her Bitty Baby, carrying it around and hugging it tightly. The sight makes you wobbly, praying silently that this is the baby that stays.

Mat comes home from practice, wet hair shoved under his Stadium Series beanie, and barely drops his keys before he’s swooping Talia up into his arms and blowing raspberries on her cheeks. He’s got a giddy energy that isn’t just from a good practice.

“Big sister, ready to head to the airport in a little bit?” He asks, gamely accepting the minor blow to the head from a plastic Bitty Baby leg.

“Yes!” Talia shouts. “Let’s go now!”

You chime in, “you’d be so early! There’s still about two hours until the planes land. That’s four episodes of Bluey,” you add, anticipating Talia’s next question.

She frowns, but shrugs and tells Mat, “Mommy said we can’t name my baby Sparky. I like Sparky.”

Mat grins at you and winks. To Talia, he says, “how about we work on it? There’s a long time to come up with a good name.”

You know Talia’s likely not going to give up on Sparky, but over the next hour she offers up Princess Jasmine, Tweety Bird, and Bingo as alternatives. Every time she refers to it as “my baby” though, you feel like you could cry again. Mat was right, telling her was a really good idea.

Until it comes time for them to leave for the airport and you have to tell her, gently but firmly, not to spill the beans. You zip up her jacket, hiding the words on the sweater she still refuses to take off. She’d even refused the option to put another sweater over it. This kid.

“But I wanna tell ‘em,” she whines, batting at the hat you try to pull over her head.

“We will tell everyone,” you assure her, winning the battle. The knit cap is snug over her ears, flattening her dark hair against her forehead. She looks adorably grumpy, a miniature replica of Mat. “But Mommy and Daddy want to surprise them with a Christmas present, okay? It’s our secret. Can you promise?”

Talia hums and bounces from foot to foot, considering. You cross your fingers that she gets it.

“I guess,” she relents, grabbing up a Princess Jasmine doll in one hand and an Aladdin doll in the other. Bitty Baby has been relegated to her crib for a nap that’s lasted more than an hour and you’re nearly jealous of a baby doll.

Mat appears in the front hall with his car keys jangling and a grin on his face. “Ready to go, TB?”

She bounces around, nodding and chanting “yes yes yes” in response to Mat’s question.

You giggle and pat her on the butt. “Save that energy for the game tomorrow,” you tease, getting to your feet and holding the door open. It’s starting to flurry a bit, the light flakes swirling in the air prettily. Mat kisses you quickly on his way out, nudging Talia between the shoulder blades to get her moving.

“Bye, Mommy!” She shouts, waving over her shoulder. “Bye, Baby Sparky!”

You wave at them, closing the door just after watching Mat swing Talia around before opening the car door for her to climb inside.

By some Christmas miracle, all three incoming flights - your parents from North Carolina, Mat’s parents from Vancouver, and Liana from London - were scheduled to land within ten minutes of each other, so Mat only had to make one trip to LaGuardia.

He glides the Defender easily into an open spot at the Arrivals curb, praying that the trip from baggage claim to the car doesn’t take everyone that long.

“Remember,” he turns around in his seat, lowering the volume on the Disney Princess medley soundtrack Talia had insisted on, “Baby Sparky is a secret. So don’t tell everyone okay?”

“Okay, but what if I just told LeeLee?” She says, not looking at Mat, but playing with her dolls. “And then you and Mommy can tell everyone else.”

“No,” Mat laughs, despite himself. “You can’t tell LeeLee. Don’t say anything, okay, Tals?”

Talia shrugs and agrees. “Okay, I won’t say anythin’ about Baby Sparky.”

Mat reaches his hand out for a high five and Talia slaps his palm enthusiastically. She makes Mat turn the music back up while they wait and sings happily along to ‘Part of Your World’ until Mat’s phone vibrates with a text and he grins.

“Take a look out the window, T,” he says, pointing towards the airport. “We’ve got some visitors.”

Talia shrieks happily, kicking her legs and waving wildly at her grandparents and aunt as the five of them come into sight. Liana waves wildly back, making a silly face for good measure.

Mat gets out of the car to help with the luggage, accepting a hug and kiss from both moms. Liana punches his arm and then gives him a one-armed hug before helping him with the luggage at the trunk. They both wave off the parents for their help and gesture for them to get in the car.

“Hi Nana and hi Pop and hi Grandma and hi Grandpa,” Talia chirps excitedly as they all get in the car, in one breath in the way only little kids can manage. She tilts her cheek up to get kisses from her grandmothers as they climb into the third row of the car.

“Hi Talia,” Nadia grins, tweaking her cheek.

“Hi, sweetie,” your mom replies, cupping Talia’s chin between her thumb and index finger. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Hey, TB,” Liana calls from the back of the car, hoisting her suitcase into the trunk. “No hellos for your favorite aunt?”

Talia wiggles around in her booster seat to wave at Liana. “LeeLee! Did you know I’m gonna be a big sister?” She shouts the question and Mat freezes.

“Fuck,” he mutters quietly, remaining extremely still as all five family members turn to look at him. He gives his mother an awkward grin. All three women are aware of the issues you’ve had in the past, he knows. Liana especially since you’d confided everything in her during her visits and on multiple phone calls. When you couldn’t or wouldn’t talk to Mat, he was just grateful that you had Liana at least to confide in.

“Mat?” Nadia prods him for a response.

“Yeah!” Talia continues, oblivious. “Mommy said we can’t name the baby Sparky, but I wanna call it Sparky anyway.”

“Oh my god!” Liana yelps, reaching out to shake Mat’s arm. “Seriously?” She does a little dance in place.

Mat nods, laughing a little. “Yeah, seriously. We told T this morning, but,” he shoots the kindergartener a playful glare, “she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone yet.”

Talia’s still oblivious, chattering happily to her grandfathers, both of whom have huge grins on their faces. The moms are wiping away tears in the third row, reaching over into the trunk to hug Mat awkwardly.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you guys,” your mom sobs, overwhelmed.

Mat accepts the huge hug Liana forces on him and finishes getting the bags in the trunk, the honking already starting from other cars waiting at the curb.

Once everyone’s in the car, Liana wedged in the middle seat and already starting to entertain Talia, Mat lowers the music and whistles to get attention on him.

“Look, T wasn’t supposed to tell you guys about the baby,” he says, easing out into traffic. “We wanted to do something special on Christmas, so if you could all pretend that you know nothing, that would be very helpful.”

Your mom sighs from the third row. “It’s going to be so hard to pretend,” she tells Nadia, who agrees. They’d both been discussing a baby shower, which Mat definitely thinks is a little premature, but he can’t blame them for being excited. He’s beyond happy himself.

“I get that,” he replies. “I really do. But remember, I’ve got a fragile, hormonal pregnant wife and she really wanted to surprise you all. Please play along and ignore Talia.”

“Hey!” Talia pipes up, abandoning her doll to Liana’s lap. “It’s mean to ignore, Daddy!”

Mat catches her eye in the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry, TB. But you did promise Mommy not to mention the baby and here we are.”

Talia squints at him, scrunching her face up and making Liana laugh at the expression. She pouts and kicks at the back of Mat’s seat. “I was excited, Daddy! I was so excited I cried, ‘member?” She grumbles.

Liana tugs at one of her dark curls. “Yeah, she couldn’t help herself, Mat,” she teases. “We’ll all be on our best behavior, promise.”

There’s no doubt in Mat’s mind that the five adults in the car will absolutely ruin the surprise the second they get home, but he crosses his fingers and hopes anyway.

Traffic is light, surprisingly, and you’re waiting at the door when Mat pulls into the driveway less than two hours after he left. You wave as everyone piles out of the car, catching Talia in your arms when she runs up to you.

“Mommy! LeeLee said she brought me sou-soubeniers?” She yelps.

“Souvenirs,” you correct gently, helping her out of her jacket and frowning when you see the sweater you’d forgotten she was wearing. “Go wash your hands, baby.”

Talia scampers off and you hope that buys you a little time to get her changed before everyone sees.

Your parents and in-laws parade into the house, all four of them giving you extra tight hugs and kisses on the cheek. Your dad murmurs that it’s good to see you and Mike gives you a wide smile, hugging you for a moment longer than usual.

Nadia cups your cheeks in her hands and just looks at you for a few seconds before shaking her head and pulling you back in for a second hug. Strange.

Something prickles at the back of your neck and when your mom greets you with watery eyes, you know exactly what happened.

Liana shoots you a delighted smirk, wrapping one arm around you in a hug as she passes. “Merry Christmas,” she beams, kissing your cheek.

Mat is last, dragging suitcases behind him and wearing a sheepish expression. You hold the door open for him and deadpan, “blabbermouth junior told everyone, didn’t she?”

“Literally the second they got in the car,” Mat admits. To his credit, he doesn’t try and lie.

“I should’ve known,” you laugh, following him into the house. Your mom already has Talia on her hip, Big Sister sweater proudly front and center as she demonstrates to the grandparents that she can read the words. They all look up guiltily at you and you just laugh more. “Spoilsport ruined the news,” you say, flattening your hand on your stomach, “but Baby Barzal should be here in June. God willing.”

The sudden cheer overwhelms you and gets you teary eyed again before you’re enveloped in a hug that nearly smothers you. Mat’s grinning at you from the safety of the fridge, until he gets accosted by the moms. He pats them on the back, laughing.

After the excitement of the news, you fall into your usual visit routine - changing out of airplane clothes and placing an order from the Italian place that everyone loves before settling into the den to catch up.

“I was going to give you guys these on Christmas,” you start the sentence before you disappear upstairs and return with three boxes in your arms. “But might as well do it now.”

Talia whips her head around, abandoning the bag of pretzels she’d dug out of the pantry and is sharing with your dad and Mike. “More presents? For me?” She asks, clambering over the arm of the couch to fall into Nadia’s lap and poke at the wrapped gift. “Oh, Mommy wrapped this. It’s so pretty. It event has a ribbon,” she chirps, stroking the velvet bow loops.

“Ooh,” Liana laughs at Mat, “burned by your own kid.”

“Oh, ha ha,” Mat rolls his eyes at his sister and when he’s sure Talia’s distracted, flips her off.

“Behave,” Nadia chastises, tone firm even though she’s smiling. Talia’s already pulling the paper away from the box in her lap and Nadia lets her continue.

You curl up against Mat’s side and watch everyone open their gifts - Polaroid shaped Christmas ornaments with the baby’s sonogram in the little photo spot, Coming Soon scrawled in cursive over the bottom of it.

It would’ve been nice to surprise everyone on Christmas morning, but there’s something even nicer about doing it now. With everyone relaxed and excited and able to really enjoy the moment without the chaos of presents and breakfast and stockings.

“Wait?” Talia squints at the sonogram. She pokes her finger against the black and white image. “Is that my baby?”

“Mhm,” you hum watching your mom explain exactly which blurry blob is the baby. “That’s the first ever picture of the baby.”

“Do I have a picture like that?” She asks, appropriating Nadia and Mike’s ornament for herself and lying across their laps while she studies the image.

Mat nods. “Tons of them,” he replies. “We can show you later, if you want.”

She hums distractedly and you let the grandparents take over for a bit, spoiling her and distracting her while you relax against Mat’s side, his hand snaking down to rest on your stomach under your shirt. His palm is warm and dry and his fingers draw absent shapes against your skin. He turns the fireplace on from his phone and the room gets cozier, full of noise and laughter and joy.

It’s the best start to Christmas week that you could’ve ever imagined.

And it turns out that everyone knowing about the baby early is a blessing in disguise, because your mom and Nadia don’t let you do a single thing the next day. They get breakfast ready for everyone and the dads get the sidewalks and cars clean from the few inches of snow that had fallen over night.

You try to help, but are shooed away to the couch to rest. Liana and Talia join you intermittently. Your baby curls up on your lap with her Bitty Baby, listening as Liana fills you in on her love life in code that goes over Talia’s head.

Mat’s gone most of the day for morning skate and is back for his pre-game nap before disappearing again around 3:30.

Talia insists on wearing her Big Sister sweater again, but the combined powers of Liana and your mom work to get her to put an Islanders jersey over it for the game. The adults are decked out in gear too and you go for comfort over style in an oversized henley and vest with leggings. Your nod to team spirit is your custom Islander Nikes.

Since the whole family is there and it’s the last game before the holiday break, Mat sprung for a suite and you’re grateful for it because you can relax and not have to worry about Talia slipping away.

Periodically, the other girls pop in to join you and as much as you try to keep her distracted, Talia announces your news to everyone that stops in, chirping, “I’m gonna be a big sister!” with a big, chocolate smudged grin and a few bunny hops.

You’ve never been excitedly screamed at and hugged in your entire life, a permanent grin making your face hurt by the time the second is halfway done.

Mat finishes the game with a trip to the penalty box, a goal, two assist, and the team wins. Maxine Nightingale fills the arena and Talia shimmies along to the chorus, cheering for Mat as he’s announced as the first star and skates over to chat with Shannon.

“Congrats on the win,” Shannon grins and Talia hangs over the glass, waving at Mat. You hold the back of her jersey in a tight fist, ignoring the way your stomach swoops with anxiety every time she lunges forward.

“Thanks, Shannon,” Mat’s face is larger than life on the screen and his smile is megawatt. “Feels really good to get the two points at home.”

Shannon laughs and nods, “I bet! And with these two points and the Ranger loss last night, the Islanders are heading into the holiday break at the top of the Metro. Just another thing to celebrate, right?”

“Oh yeah!” Mat’s lips curl up in a cock smirk that has your dormant sex drive sparking slightly. “A lot to celebrate this year,” he looks up at the suites and you swear he makes eye contact with you, his smile growing more genuine. “Just really glad to get the win with my family here.”

“I’m sure they’re all waiting to start the holiday celebrations with you, Merry Christmas, Mat,” Shannon smiles and the interview ends with Mat wishing her the same and heading off down the tunnel.

“Bye, Daddy!!!” Talia shouts out, waving.

You snatch her back from the glass and she pouts at you briefly before skipping over to Liana to mooch some M&M’s off of her.

“Are we heading home before Mat or did you want to see him?” You ask, sitting down on one of the couches outside the suite. A yawn catches in the back of your throat and your mom brushes her hand over the top of your head. You lean into her touch like a cat, warmed by her affection.

“Let us take you home, baby,” she replies. “You look exhausted.”

“I’m okay,” you assure her, passing Liana a baby wipe from your bag so she can wipe the chocolate off of Talia’s face. “T likes to see Mat after the games, so we can all meet him out at the garage and split into the two cars.”

“I wanna see Daddy and Uncle Bo and Noah,” Talia calls out, wriggling away from Liana and the baby wipe she’s wielding.

“Jesus, stay still TB, you’ve got a chocolate five o’clock shadow,” Liana laughs.

Mat is waiting for you downstairs, immediately scooping Talia up and giving her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “My good luck charms!” He grins, hair damp.

“Daddy, where’s Noah?” Talia drapes herself over Mat’s shoulder, looking around for her favorite defenseman. “I wanna show him my sweater.”

“You already showed Alexa,” you remind her. “She’ll

show Noah the picture you posed for. And remember, you’re going to see everyone at Aunt Syd and Uncle Matt’s Christmas Eve party tomorrow.”

Somehow you manage to get Talia in her car seat in Mat’s car, the rest of the Barzals going with Mat too and leaving you to drive home with your parents. Mat kisses your forehead before he gets into the driver’s seat of his car and tells you to be safe.

You nod and end up in the back seat of your own car when your dad insists on driving home. You’re grateful for it, honestly, slumping against the door and yawning. It’s been a long day and you’re definitely ready to head to bed.

“I’m so happy for you, baby,” your mom murmurs over the Christmas music playing on the radio. She has her arm extended behind her so she can hold your hand. “Make sure you take care of yourself and if you need me to come and help, say the word. Whatever you need, right, hon?” That last bit is directed at your dad and he nods in agreement, a man of few words.

“Thanks, mom,” you can’t help the waver to your voice. Quieter, you continue, “I’m scared.”

“Oh, my girl,” your mom turns around in her seat and gives you a soft smile. “It’s only natural, after everything you and Mat have been through. But I’m going to go light a candle tomorrow and you’re going to stay positive and in June you’ll have a beautiful new baby to love on.”

You nod and wipe at your eyes, your free hand splayed on your stomach. In your purse, your phone vibrates and you pull it out to find a text from Liana - a video of Talia in her car seat, singing the wrong lyrics to ‘All I Want for Christmas’ loudly and proudly. She’s totally off key, but she’s having the time of her life. Before the video ends, you can hear Mat in the background laughing and saying, “T, next year you can teach Baby Sparky the lyrics.”

Tears flood your eyes again and the reality continues to hit - this time next year you’ll have a second baby all geared up to celebrate their first Christmas.

You can’t wait.

[oneforthemunny]

home is wherever i'm with you |hockey player!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: life on the road during hockey season is far less glamorous than you thought it would be. homesick and lonely, eddie tries to get you feeling better.

also special thank you to @angietherose for the name of the au hockey team :) eddie is officially on the indy reapers! thank you to all who voted as well!

contains: fluff, but there is slight angst at the beginning. mentions of loneliness, a little depression. slight-ish tension or strain on the relationship, but you know i make it happy at the end lol. language.

Pasadena, California - 1993 

Day seventeen on your six week excursion with Eddie. Well, excursion was a generous thing to call what this was. You were feeling more like a groupie for the Indianapolis Reapers, a puck bunny as Eddie’s teammates snickered, brows raised in suggest when they’d pass jersey clad girls lingering around their buses. Stop after stop- press, practice, training, games, all over the nation. 

A suitcase full of clothes you’d grown sick of already, longing to go home and trade them for something different, washing them in the sharp, sterile detergent of the hotels. You longed for your own sheets, perfumed with your own detergent. 

Eddie was gone for most of the day. You tried to sightsee on your own, explore the cities but it was lonely, lacking someone to giggle with over lattes, to hold your hand in the street, just to talk to. The other WAGS that came along, stuck out the long haul across the states, clung to each other, comfortable in their own little clique. You were too new, an outsider to their group. 

“Hey, babe,” Eddie pressed the key into the lock, twisting the heavy latch open. “Babe, do you have that stuff? Did you bring it?” He hummed, dropping his bag at the door, kicking off his sneakers. 

His nose curled at the pungent smell, ripe from the warming weather of California. “Jesus Christ, I gotta wash this stuff. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in the laundry thing.” Eddie hummed, sliding the slotted closet door open. “Can’t believe how warm it is here already. Feels so nice outside. You’ve been outside today, sweetheart?” He rambled, sweetly, tossing the powdered detergent into the washer, shoving the workout clothes from his bag into the tiny machine. 

The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the room, his only response. Eddie’s brows lifted, jamming the button of the washer, sliding the door back into place. He didn’t remember hearing you say you were leaving today, but he had taken a pretty hard hit to the glass during practice, ears still ringing dully. 

“Baby?” Eddie called, opening the bathroom door, empty of you other than the scattered products on the vanity. Heavy steps on the patterned carpet, Eddie walked into the bedroom suite, halting at the edge of the crumpled sheets. 

You laid on your side, still in what he’d left you in that morning, eyes puffy and red rimmed looking motionlessly out the window. “Hey, I thought you- I was, uh, I was just talking but-” Eddie’s heart beat in his throat, uneasy at the sight of you, crumpled in the sheets. “Are you ok?” 

You turned, cheek still pressed to your arms under the pillow, just enough to see him- all wild curls, matted and frizzy with helmet hair. “Yeah,” You croaked, throat scratchy and sore with sobs that had stilled hours ago, still you were plagued with the aftershocks of weeks of suppressed emotion. 

“I- I’m not trying to sound like a dick or anything here, but you’re clearly not.” Eddie said softly, slowly approaching the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, a warm hand rubbing over your ankle under the cool sheets. 

“Baby,” Your face crumpled at the coo, so sweet, gentle, it made your nose burn. “What’s goin’ on?” Eddie muttered, thumb circling your ankle bone gently. 

Your nose burned with a slow, shaky exhale that he felt, rattled all the way down your body under his touch. Eddie’s heart dropped. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie’s voice was softened but sharp, teetering on frantic. You turned, looking at his wide eyes, running over your frame in worry. “What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter?” 

Your lip wobbled, head screaming words you couldn’t bring yourself to say- you didn’t know how to say. “I just-” You took a breath, chest stuttering. “I don’t… feel good.” 

Eddie’s brows creased, crawling up the bed beside you. “Don’t feel good, like, sick?” He muttered, the back of his hand pressing to your palm. “You don’t feel hot t’me. What hurts? Is it your head still? I told you, baby, that hippie dippie shit only works so much. You have to take medicine-” 

“-No,” You shook your head, eyes squeezing tightly to keep your tears at bay. “It’s-it’s not that.” 

Eddie blinked carefully. “What? Is it, like, the time of the month? D’ya need me to go get some stuff for you? You know I don’t mind to. Not a problem for me, baby, just tell me what you need.” Eddie’s head tilted to the side, so sweet and doting, it made your chest heat with swarming guilt and adoration. 

“I’m not on my period. It’s nothing, Ed.” You shook your head, curling back into your pillow. 

Eddie stilled above you. “Are- Are you pregnant?” He whispered. 

“No.” You groaned quickly, head shaking into the warmth of the pillows. 

Eddie sighed lightly, a huff of relief that fell short, when your body turned from him, back towards the window with a long inhale. “Hey, can you- can you look at me? Please? Look at me, baby.” Eddie’s pitch raised, teetering towards scared, his hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently so you rolled on your back. 

He hovered over you, curls falling down nearly brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what’s going on. Please? Tell me what’s wrong.” Eddie whispered, nearly a beg. “You don’t feel good? You don’t feel good here?” His throat swelled, tight with fear. “With me?” 

Your silence had Eddie’s stomach twisting, dropping with fear, bile rising in the back of his throat- he was going to be sick, he was sure he would be. 

“No,” You muttered, head shaking lightly under the pillow. “Not with you, just,” You reached up, nervously twirling his curl around your finger. “Just with this.” 

Eddie swallowed, willing himself still, calm, though his heart felt like it might give out. “This? Wh-What do you mean this?” Eddie’s voice shook. 

You blinked up at him, eyes rounding in a sad softness he hadn’t seen before. “I just… I miss being home.” You whispered, eyes glossing with a fresh wave of tears that pricked your waterline. “I miss seeing my friends, and being in my own bed, a-and even work. I just,” Your breath hitched, lip trembling. “I’m just really lonely.” 

Eddie was sure his heart did give out, break right in his chest, sunk right to the pit of his stomach. “Do you- You wanna go home?” Eddie’s hand ran down your cheek gently. “That’s what you want? That would make you feel better?” 

Your face crumbled, caved into itself at his tone. “I-I don’t know.” You admitted, eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears in. “I don’t want to leave you, b-but I don’t-” You pressed your palms to your eyes, taking a slow inhale through your nose. “I just don’t want to be alone so much. A-And I know that’s not your fault. I know you’re working.” 

When your eyes did meet his, Eddie wished they’d stayed closed, heartbreakingly sad, vacant of that light that usually shone through, brightening anything cast in your gaze. “I just… I’m feeling homesick, ‘m sorry.” You muttered. “I just really miss home, and I’m having a bad day.” 

“You don’t- Don’t apologize.” Eddie shook his head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.” Eddie swallowed, pulling you up gently. Your body was slack, limp with unmotivated movement, but still, you settled into his arms. The tension in your body melted, nose buried in the material of his shirt, lathered in cologne and the hot California air. 

“I have a half day tomorrow.” Eddie muttered, his heart beating fast, you could hear it, feel it. His hand smoothed up your back. “We’ll do something. Go exploring and stuff. Do some fun stuff.” 

“You’re ‘sposed to rest.” You muttered, cheek squished to his chest. “It’s before your game, you’re supposed to be resting.” 

“Yeah, but that is resting.” Eddie shook his head gently. “I’ll be alright. Promise. Played after way worse. Me and Josh used to come in hungover, vomited on the ice one time.” Eddie’s chest rumbled with soft laughter. “Pretty sure we’re the reason that rule’s in place now.” 

Your lips curled, even through your sullen, dazed mood, you couldn’t help it. Clinging to him tighter, you moved into his touch. “Coach just means take it easy like, don’t go get fucked up and actually sleep the night before.” Eddie muttered, chin tucking down onto your head. “C’mon, lemme take you out tomorrow. Me and you. Go anywhere you want.” 

You didn’t reply. Instead, sighed gently, settling into his hold. 

Eddie was restless through all of morning practice, hands buzzing, ready to run to the rental car at the first dismissal. Shower be damned, he’d take a quick one at the hotel, he couldn’t be held up any longer. 

“What’s goin’ on with you, Munson?” Elijah muttered, next to Eddie in the huddle on the ice, the coach’s droning about protocol for the game. 

“Nothin’.” Eddie whispered back, twisting his stick in his hands. “Just wish he’d fuckin’ hurry up.” 

Elijah’s eyes cut to Eddie, snorting lightly. “You got somewhere to be?” 

“Yeah, I do actually.” Eddie sighed out. “Gotta get back. Promised my girl I’d take her out.” 

Elijah’s brows raised. “Shit, you brought her with you?” 

Eddie’s shoulders tensed. “She wanted to come.” He muttered defensively. “I mean, she wanted to. Now it’s kinda fucked, she’s-” Eddie’s eyes cut around him. “She’s kinda homesick.” 

Elijah nodded slowly. “Yeah, that happens.” He fought back a smile. “When’s the last time you took her out?” 

Eddie’s eyes cut to him, defensive with accusation. “It’s not like that. I take her out.” 

“Yeah? On the off day? After we’ve traveled all day?” Elijah snorted, shaking his head. “C’mon, Munson. Believe me, that doesn’t count.” 

Eddie ignored him, gripping his stick with furious annoyance. The fuck did he know? He didn’t know anything. 

“Look, I’m not tryna piss you off. I did it, too. Just- believe me, alright? That one day shit doesn’t work.” Elijah pressed gently. 

“Hey, I got it, alright? I’m good.” Eddie growled. 

Elijah held his hands up in defense. “Alright, I’m just saying, when it was me,” He started. “I wasn’t meaning to. I just wasn't used to it. Had my own road routine and tried to fit her around it instead of into it. Thought it was going good until it wasn’t.” 

Eddie stilled, silent but shoulders slumping lightly. “You gotta change your routine, find a way to fit her into it. She’s on the road too, not just you.” Elijah continued. 

The coach whistled, waving them in dismissal. Eddie blinked, pulled out of his daze, lifting his helmet and stick with him. Elijah nodded at him. “Have fun tonight, Munson.” He smiled softly. “Make sure you take her somewhere nice.” 

Elijah’s words rang in Eddie’s head all the way back to the hotel, only a short drive from the arena. Eddie nearly threw his keys at the valet, sliding into the elevator shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his toes until he reached your floor. 

You startled when he came in, sitting at the vanity, doing your makeup. “You’re done already?” 

“Yeah,” Eddie muttered, ducking down for a kiss. “Just gotta shower real quick, but are you hungry?” He shimmied his workout sweats onto the floor, kicking his socks off with them. 

Your eyes lingered over his bare lower half for a second, turning back to paint your mascara on. “I’m not starving.” You mumbled. 

“Alright, good, I was gonna see if we could go to this place. I think you’ll like it.” Eddie grinned over his shoulder at you, the hiss of the shower coming to life. “Some guys told me if you’re in Pasadena you gotta go here.” His smile so wide, eyes sparkling in the dim yellowed light of the hotel bathroom, it made your tummy tingle with warm excitement. 

“Promise you’re not looking?” Eddie mumbled, hands over your eyes, waddle-walking awkwardly behind you, pressed close to your back. 

“Swear I’m not.” You grinned. Eddie was right, it was beautiful outside. Warm and bright, light illuminating his hands that covered your eyes with a reddish glow. 

“I can feel you trying to. Your lashes are tickling me.” Eddie muttered, leaving you giggling. “Ok, just- you know what, this is good enough. I’m scared you’re gonna trip.” Eddie said, lips curling at your soft laugh. 

“Are you ready for your surprise?” You could hear Eddie’s grin in his voice, a breeze floating between the two of you. 

“Yes.” You giggled, Eddie’s chest swelling at the sound. “Just show me. Your hands are clammy. They’re gonna smear my mascara.” 

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie muttered sheepishly, a blush spilling on his cheeks, pulling his hands away so they were still in front of you. “Ok, ready?” 

“Eddie-” 

“-Sorry, Alright, one, two,” Eddie moved his hands, smiling proudly in front of you, a pinkish looking building behind you. “Here it is! Surprise!”

You blinked. “Oh.” You quipped softly. 

Eddie blinked, smile falling. “What? I thought you’d- You don’t like it?” 

“No,” You shook your head. “I mean, no, that’s- Where are we?” 

“Oh,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Shit, I thought you’d know. Uh, apparently this place is supposed to be like the place for flowers, y’know? Pasadena has that flower festival thing, but it’s not until later and I know you like to go to the cool places, and-” Eddie motioned to the store behind him. 

You took in the building, spilling over with plants you could see from the inside. “I, uh, I know you miss home.” Eddie said softly. “And I was just thinking, y’know, we can’t get houseplants like at home, but maybe some bouquets? Some flowers for the hotel room.” 

Eddie waited a beat, desperately trying to read your face, eyes wandering over the building and the signs. “I thought maybe you’d pick out some flowers and-and it would make it feel like home.” Eddie’s hands slid down his jeans, hot from the sun beaming on them. “Plus, you wanted to see some around here, a-and y’know… one bird, two stones.” Eddie rambled, shrugging sheepishly. 

You felt the familiarity of a cry bubbling back in your chest, swelling and suffocation, only this time the aching of sadness was gone. In its place, a bubbling, burning feeling of adoration was left, consuming you from the inside out with every nervous glance Eddie gave you. He’d listened, really fucking listened. He always did, but this time it was different. Relief, comfort washing over you for the first time in days. 

It felt like home. 

Like the two of you were back in Hawkins, or Indianapolis even, perusing the usual spots, happy and content to be together in a familiar place. 

Eddie wasn’t expecting you to grab him, pull him into you with a fierce, sloppy kiss. Right there on the sidewalk, under the California sunshine. Lips melting into his, clawing and grabbing at his shirt, the back of his neck. Eddie’s cheeks burned bright when you pulled apart, a smile so wide and goofy it made you giggle. 

He let you grab his hand, lead him around the flower shop like a lost puppy, picking out anything and everything that made you smile. A bright bouquet spilling out beautifully in the green vase, made just for you. 

You sat it right on the small bedside table, beaming at how it livened up the room. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or you. Either way, it revived you, made you happier and giddier. Made the sheets of the hotel less cold when you slipped beneath them, legs tangled in his, pinning him under you onto the stiff mattress. It made the room brighter, spilling with a new fragrance that felt familiar. 

It was small, a miniscule way that meant the world to you; made you feel at home. Eddie knew it, planning how he’d do it with every next city, until you finally got back home.

[blackknight-kai]

SW x reader (fluff)

Where reader is kinda a homebody?, enjoys doing the chores and cooking Kinda like a stay at home wife type dynamic! (P.S. I love your writing!!! You feed the fandom I swear, you deserve more recognition!, and if you take this request thank you a million times over!)

Forgive me this isn’t a full fic but I have thoughts on this scenario.

First off, you being home all the time? Yeah Wukong is down with that. I think it would feed a sense of “protection” and “provide” thing for him. He’d bring you stuff all the time be it food to cook or things he finds that you might like.

He would also like knowing exactly where you are at all times. No chance of you getting into trouble or hurt while he’s off doing Wukong shenanigans. Although he might drag your ass along with him sometimes because he does like having you with him.

Coming home to a clean house, clean laundry, and fresh cooked meals? OH BOY IS THIS KING LIVING! He loves that! It makes him feel the King he is, not that you HAVE to do those things he’d have someone do it in a heartbeat if you said you didn’t want to anymore. But to have you providing things for him?? Hoooo! That tickles his fur. Especially after long days of beating up bad guys, causing chaos wherever he goes, and protecting what is his/who needs it.

Essentially you are home. Comfort. Warmth. And so him coming home from the never ending needy world to you just being THERE, thinking about making him dinner to make sure he eats before bed or making sure his clothes aren’t matted with dirt and blood, it really really soothes some ache deep inside him he didn’t know he had, someone taking care of him (although good luck getting him to admit that).

When he steps into your shared home all he has to do is be Wukong, not anyone else, just him. And if he’s tired? Or if he’s playful? Or if he’s quiet? You’re there right where he knows you’ll be.

He loves the little things you tell him about your day, what you did or saw. Or if you’d picked up a new hobby or discovered something. Being with you is like a relaxant, a balm for his soul, and he’s happy to share in your daily routine.

The thing that really gets him is you feel safe enough thanks to him to live your life as you want. No longer worrying about possible dangers or when you might eat next. Now you can feel the true comforts of home and enjoy the quiet (mostly because it’s Wukong…) life. And it’s because of HIM. He gets to see you be happy and he will continue to make is so, especially if he can snuggle into clean bed sheets and eat your tasty food all day every day for the rest of eternity and never stop smiling at him as soon as he walks in the door.

[tightjeansjavi]

And They Were Roommates | drabble

“Lavender Haze”

A/N: I have no explanation for this other than the fact that I’m severely touch deprived and want to take a bath with Joel and Logan 😔 thank you to @syd-djarin for the beautiful moodboard and thank u @sinsofsummers for betaing 😩

word count: 1.6k

Summary: A three-way in the bath OR Joel complains that his back hurts and you and Logan take care of him ;)

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

Warnings: mature, smut, mentions of alcohol, throuple, Joel and Logan are your boyfriends who are also boyfriends, language, +18 minors dni!

series masterlist

The days are growing increasingly shorter and colder, and the winter months are steadfast on the horizon. But despite the chill in the air, and the dull ache in his lower back muscles and shoulders, Joel is content; satisfied. He knows that you and Logan are at home, anticipating his arrival. Joel can’t help but wonder what compromising situation he’ll find you and the Wolverine in today.

Just last week he stumbled upon quite the erotic scene, finding you sprawled out on the kitchen table beneath the sheer mass of Logan and his claws leaving long, jagged marks in the once pristine furnished wood. It was Joel’s favorite table, one of his first furnished pieces that he carved by hand. Logan apologized profusely—on his knees for the extensive damage he caused.

Today, however, the house was quiet—sans the familiar comforting crackles emitting from the fireplace in the living room.

There’s no sign of you, or Logan, till Joel’s good ear picks up on the distinct rumble of a low grunt, followed by a soft giggle coming from upstairs.

He let out a disgruntled sound from the back of his throat as he bent down to unlace his boots and immediately felt that familiar strain in his lower back from being on patrol all day.

“Gettin’ too fuckin’ old for this shit.” He muttered under his breath, kicking his boots to the side of the worn down welcome mat and hung the strap of his rifle along the hook in the wall.

His good ear perks up at the sound of your soft, desperate, little moans coming from up the stairs. He lets out a huff, subtly glancing down at the noticeable strain in his stiff, worn down jeans. There’s an endearing patch of mix-matched fabric stitched lovingly right along the thigh where a large, and obvious rip used to exist.

He shakes his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth and looks towards the top of the staircase with an amused grin. His favorite spot, the leather recliner near the fireplace is calling his name, beckoning him to sit down and rest his aching muscles, but his hardening cock has a mind of its own, and he misses his two lovers that he fondly calls home.

As he ascends up the stairs, he discovers articles of yours and Logan’s clothing scattered about, and he bends down, looping one of his fingers through the delicate hem of your discarded panties.

He slowly brings them up to his face, inspecting them with a twitch of his lips and the scent of your arousal permeating in the air. He inhales deeply, burying the bridge of his nose against the damp patch of fabric with a content sigh.

He stuffs your panties into the back pocket of his jeans and gathers up the rest of yours and Logan’s clothing on his way up. “Fuckin’ animals.” He chuckles to himself and makes a pit stop to the laundry basket in the hallway, first.

That’s when a new scent invades his senses; lavender.

His footsteps are undetected by either you and Logan, as you’re far too consumed with one another to hear Joel’s arrival.

You were surprised to hear that Logan was eager to take your offer up on having a relaxing afternoon soak in the tub, but you came to learn that the Wolverine did in fact enjoy a bit of pampering every now and then.

It started off innocent, with you giving Logan a well deserved scalp massage, lathering his hair in homemade lavender shampoo, but then he kissed you—and well, you couldn’t say no, not when he was whispering absolute filth between heated kisses, and guiding your hips to straddle his own. He didn’t give two fucks that you warned him about the risks of getting soap in his eyes, not when you were nestled so warmly around his aching cock.

“Don’t stop—please.” Joel hears the desperation in Logan’s throaty voice, and his jeans grow even tighter as he quietly pushes open the ajar bathroom door to find you and the Wolverine tangled together in the sudsy water surrounded by the soft glow of flickering candles.

And despite the way that his skin prickles with jealousy when he finds you nestled in the Wolverine’s lap, his arms wound around your waist, holding you flush, strong hands gripping the soft swell of your ass, blunt fingernails latching on like hooks. He doesn’t want his presence to be known, not yet, not while he can watch the way your breath mingles, hitches with want, and the languid roll of your hips—a constant rhythm being met with the sheer force of the Wolverine’s desperate thrusts causing ripples along the surface of the tub.

He crosses his arms against his chest, resting his exhausted back against the wall, watching the hidden desperation in a chaste kiss between you and Logan. He can feel your body buzzing with need—and the Wolverine can sense it, too.

“Thas’ it, sweet girl. Doin’ so good for me.” Logan purrs against your lips, a smirk appearing when he feels your nails digging into shoulder blades. His eyes roll back from the sensation of pain blurring into intoxicating pleasure. “Takin’ my cock so well, jus’ like you always do.”

Joel pushes himself off from the wall, padding over to the toilet and quietly flips the seat up before he undoes the buckle on his belt, followed by the metallic scritch of the zipper being yanked down.

The movement in the tub finally stills, and Logan briefly detaches his lips from yours, swollen with your kisses and a translucent thread of saliva hangs between you and him.

“That you, bub?” He rasps.

“Don’t stop on my account, Logan. Don’t wanna leave our girl hangin’, do we?” Joel answers back with a grin. “By the way, it reeks like a Bath and Body Works threw up in here.”

The other man laughs, loosening his grip around you slightly when you begin to pepper little kisses and nips at the base of his throat. “We would have waited for you, baby. But Logan has a way with his words.”

“His words, huh?” Joel teases and eases his cock out from its confines so he can finally piss. “Sure it was his words, and not his cock buried inside of you that did it?”

“He’s very persuasive.”

“Don’t I know it.” He grunts in reply.

“It was her magic hands that did it. You ever gotten a scalp massage from this one? I’m sure you have—but christ, she had me practically purring in her lap.”

“Mhm.” Joel hums and re-zips his jeans, closes the lid to the toilet seat and then flushes. “She does have magic fingers, that’s for damn sure.”

“Why don’t you join us, baby? The water is still warm.” You suggest with a coy smile, slipping out of Logan’s loose grasp so you can rest your elbows along the side of the tub.

“Mmm…but you know I hate baths, darlin.’”

“He does hate baths.” You said with a sigh, leaning back against Logan’s strong chest when his arms wrap around you once more, and his chin comes to rest along your shoulder.

“‘Sides, my back is fuckin’ killin’ me after patrol. Think im jus’ gonna crash out downstairs for a bit.” He reassures you both, pivoting on his heel to leave.

You and Logan share a knowing look and he brushes his lips against the shell of your ear, hot breath fanning the sensitive skin.

“Work too hard out there, Miller. Let us take care of you.” His voice rumbles against your ear as you lean further into him.

Joel’s lips twitch upwards as if he’s going to grin. “I see what you two shit stirrers are doin’, and it ain’t gonna work on me.” He softly scoffs, but his words don’t mirror his actions, and he feels that invisible, magnetic pull guiding him towards the tub.

“How about a kiss instead, baby? We’ve missed you.” You cooed.

“Alright.” He concedes, “one kiss for each of ya, and then I’m outta here.” He insists, but even he knows he can’t resist you or Logan in the end.

“One kiss, bub.” Logan rasps, and is already tilting his head upwards when Joel leans down, resting his hands along the side of the tub. Their lips brush just as you grab Joel’s hand and Logan reaches for the hem of his shirt. Together, you manage to pull Joel into the tub, sending watering sloshing over the rim and creating an even bigger puddle than before.

Joel’s not even the least bit angry, even though his scowl says otherwise. He laughs, deeply, right from his belly when he feels two pairs of lips along the side of his face.

“‘Coulda let me take my clothes off first.” He chuckles, turning his head to the side so that he can meet your lips, first.

“You wouldn’t have gotten in otherwise, bub.” Logan says teasingly, reaching for his belt under the water and undoes it swiftly.

“Touché, Howlett. Touché.” Joel sighs into your mouth, jaw going slack under the Wolverines touch when he pulls his cock free, finally.

The candles surrounding the tub have almost completely melted down by the time that you, Joel, and Logan pull yourselves out of the now lukewarm water.

The ache in Joel’s back is duller, now, and he can’t really complain much, especially after you and Logan took care of him devotedly. He still ends up lounged out on his favorite recliner, fireside with his clothes drying. A glass of whiskey sits perched in his palm as he relaxes, listening to the soft chatter between you and Logan in the kitchen.

A hidden smile appears over the rim of his glass, and he lets out a content sigh, warmth flooding his heart, all the way down to the tips of his toes.

So, this is what it feels like.

banners made by the lovely @saradika-graphics

follow @tightjeansjaviupdates for fic updates and notifications!

[dadsbongos]

mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?

kink adventures tag 1.2 K words / warnings - mommy kink, stuckage, stepcest roleplay, p in v sex (unprotected), degradation? i think?

summary - tomura’s mental health and psychology is a nightmare which i thought should be highlighted here haha

~~~

"Honey!"

Wheels roll dully against the plastic mat beneath your boyfriend’s desk, then soft padding across carpet, then a twisted laugh, before finally the laundry room door creaks open. Brass handle thudding into the wall.

“What?”

Tomura’s tone is unusually callous, even downright bored, and you’d be offended if not for the sundress hanging around your spread thighs. Your precariously cramped waist between his dryer and the wall, and the budding anticipation swelling in your chest.

“Can you help me? I’m a little stuck…”

“Ugh,” with your head hanging, you can just barely peer at his socked feet behind you, he then falls to his knees. Sweatpants loose, a bulb growing more apparent at his groin. Uselessly his arms hang at his sides until they disappear up, two seconds later is the warmth of his palms on your hips, “Fine.”

You rock back towards him but make no other effort to slip from the gap, not that Tomura is actually pulling. He leans as if he is, and quiet, husky grunts leave his mouth as if he is, but the only difference in his hold is how he squeezes your love handles.

“How’d this even happen?” Tomura grumbles, one hand moving to the back of your neck and wrapping it with his hand to pull again, “You’re such a ditz, dunno how my dad married you.”

“Be nice!”

“Only thing you’re good for is…” he yanks you back, jerking your rear into his erection and grinding against you. His thumb brushes tenderly along the column of your throat, “I bet he doesn’t even give it to you right. Old, limp bastard,” he squeezes around the back of your neck, “You walk around here practically begging for it,” he sighs, “You’re meant to be a slut, not a housewife.”

“What’re you doing, Tomura?” you drawl your voice a little more shrill, kicking flaccidly at his thighs as he uses both hands to work down his pants. Knuckles scratching your skin, “Get me out!”

“I will,” he reaches beneath the soft, thin skirt of your dress to pull down your panties, “Gotta get you wet, add some friction, it’s pretty basic. Though, I guess someone like you wouldn’t understand that.”

Tomura is disturbingly good at the bratty step-son character.

Weirdly, it makes you push further into him.

Papping the flushed head of his cock against your slit, Tomura spreads you open with his tip, pouring into the way his girth is swallowed by your slick. Your back arches, chest burdening the floor, a soft whine escapes you, making Tomura reattach his hand on your neck. Palming your throat to use as leverage as he bucks inside you.

“Tomura,” you whine.

“Tenko.”

“Huh?”

As a distraction, you assume, Tomura thrusts until his thighs are clapping yours. He huffs and groans, “Call me Tenko.”

“Tenko,” you moan, his hand squeezing the sides of your neck, and the other wringing you back into him by your waist.

“Yeah, mommy?” surprise wavers your arousal again, “Something you need to say? Or do you just like squealing?”

“Tenko…?”

His chapped lips find your pulse, sucking and biting along your neck, tongue affectionately cooling his teeth marks. You feel as if you two should talk about this.

You also feel as if Tomura’s not in the talking mood.

You decide to temper your confusion for now, instead meeting him at every thrust.

“Mommy,” he whimpers, raking blunt nails along your hips, “So wet for me,” just to rub in the point, his hand on your neck flies under your dress and between your legs. Fingers dance along where his cock splits you open, glossing his fingers just to dangle in your face obnoxiously, “You like me that much?”

Tomura flips up the flowy skirt of your dress entirely, fake AC goodness melting away under frizzling, spastic energy. Slowly, he glides out of your cunt just to feel the slow suck and squeeze of your inside. Hot and gooey.

“What if he came home right now, huh?”

Yeah, what if?

You’d be exposed -- soaking and full of dick, chirping out little “ah, ah, ah!”s at Tomura’s demanding plunges. The taboo nature only makes you tighten around him, flinging a hand back to snag his loose shirt and wrangle him nigh on top of you. Vague buzzing flows from behind you, the raspy and teasing foundation of Tomura’s voice -- not that you’re listening. You’re smothering his sound with moans and whines of your own. Content to wail against the back wall of Tomura’s laundry room until he plucks you out from the gap by your neck.

“You listenin’?” he cackles, rolling you onto the cold laundry floor before lugging your thighs into his hands and gleefully listening to wheeze as he presses them to your chest. Dipping back into your plush cunt, Tomura hands his head and babbles lamely, “Tell me you need it, mommy. You want my cum, right? Tell me I can cum in you.”

“Want it so bad, baby,” you gasp and twitch under his newfound vigor, “Cum in me, cum for mommy.”

Heat flares in your face as you call yourself such a perverted title.

But you just can’t stop.

“Mommy loves your cock, honey.”

“Uh-huh?” Tomura’s cheeks are stained red, voice now dripping pathetic.

“Fucking mommy so well.”

“Uh-huh?” he inhales sharply, eyes clenched shut.

He stretches over you, muffling your next sentence by obsessively kissing your lips.

“Such a good boy.”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh?” he mutters against your lips.

“Cum inside mommy, Tenko,” you coo, back arching off the floor.

“Ohmygod, fuck!” Tomura stills inside your cunt, eyes flying open as he heaves for breath -- cum spilling inside you, “Fuck me!”

He collapses onto you, releasing your legs to curl around him. You scratch through his shaggy hair silently, letting your eyes flutter closed. You allow yourself to bask in the moment before ‘spontaneously’ Remembering™.

. . .

“So…” you drawl, post euphoria glow fading way to curiosity, both natural and morbid, “Tenko?”

“I changed my name. A long time ago. I don’t go by Tenko anymore.”

“Obviously,” you sit up, elbows pitched against the hardwood floor. He can sense your upset, he must be able to because he’s pointedly ignoring your stare, “Tomura.”

“What?”

“Is there anything I should know about?” in his silence, you flood the room with more words, “I get it, if there’s something you’re not ready to share. I just don’t want you to think you have to keep anything from me. Or that, I dunno. I don’t like the idea of finding something out like this, but years down the line. Or from one of your friends. I don’t want to not know you.”

Tomura’s only response is a quiet, “You want to be together years down the line?”

“Yeah,” you’d feel ridiculous for the admission, if Tomura didn’t look more flustered than you felt, “But you should probably be more open with me, you know?”

“It’s nothing,” he sighs, shakes his head, and quickly continues before you can pout, “I just hated my given name, so I started going by Tomura in grade school. Had it legally changed a few years ago.”

“That’s all?”

“I don’t talk to my Dad. And not usually my mom. Sometimes my sister.”

“Okay,” you can faintly string those details altogether, laying back down, “Thanks for sharing.”

Tomura yawns with a small nod, tightening his arms around you, “Now you have to tell me something when I’m in my right mind.”

“Okay :3 ”

[sweetiebarnes]

FAVORITE PLACES

Various characters and their favorite places to have sex.

Warnings: public sex, shower sex, car sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, cum kink, basically this is all filth.

A/N: Please do not report this! It's so frustrating to have things reported. If I missed any warnings you feel should be listed, please let me know. Gifs made by me. I know I didn't list all of Seb's characters, but I did some of my favorites.

𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 - After being denied pleasure for many years, Bucky is desperate. He’s more than happy to have sex any place at any time. Out to dinner with friends? He doesn’t care, he’ll gladly take you in the bathroom of the restaurant. Heading to a mission? No better place than the back of the jet. He even took you in the laundry room of your parent’s house. The man is insatiable. 

𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧- Carter loves the thrill of making you cum while riding the elevator. It all started when the two of you got stuck on one. He knew he needed to distract you somehow. What better way than having you cum on his cock? Now, whenever you two ride one together, he considers it a challenge to see just how fast he can make you cum.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 - Charles loves to take you apart in the back seat of his red convertible. He gets even more excited when you let him keep the top down. It’s almost like he’s determined to get caught. He craves the sound of your moans and screams. Let the townspeople hear you while his tongue is buried deep into your soaked pussy. 

𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - The gym, of course. Lance loves to use the different gymnastics equipment to his advantage. You'd never considered yourself to be flexible. That is, until Lance came along. He causes you to bend and stretch in ways you didn't even know was possible. Whether it's bending you over the pommel horse or having you ride him on top of the mats, he always manages to give you a solid workout.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 - Lee loves to fuck you at the station. It all started when he spotted two of his deputies staring at your ass. That afternoon he made sure they all knew who you belonged to. He bent you over his desk and pounded into you until you were screaming his name. Now anytime you bring his lunch (which happens frequently). Everyone in the station knows what’s about to happen. Lee can't help but feel smug as you walk out of his office with his cum running down your thighs.

𝐌𝐚𝐱 𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭 - Max craves the riches in life. He lives for the thrill. He loves to have sex in your current mark's house. Once, you were conning a millionaire. Max fucked you up against the window of the man's penthouse. He always finds a way to be a part of the con. Whether it's posing as your best friend, brother, or coworker. He doesn't care. As long he finds a way to have you.

𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐲 - Mickey loves to fool around inside his DJ booth. Once the club was so dark, he was able to fuck you without anyone noticing. He's constantly looking for opportunities to make it happen again. But most of the time, the two of you are only able to manage to sneak in a blow job or some fingering. It doesn't matter though, because the set is over. He'll find a place so he can be buried deep inside your pussy.

𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐅𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐫- Nick loves to take you apart in the shower. There's just something about the way the water trickles down your breasts that makes him feral. He loves the way you look with your hair soaked and the blissed-out expression on your face. Whether it's first thing in the morning or ending a long day. Nothing relaxes Nick more than a shower with you.

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐊𝐞𝐦𝐩 - Steve never expected to be able to fuck you once he put you in his basement. No, he thought once you found out the truth of everything, you’d want nothing to do with him. But that wasn’t the case at all. He quickly realizes you're just as twisted as he is. So, that's why he loves to fuck you while you're locked away. Knowing that his other victims are listening only causes him to want this more.

[baka-bakeneko]

Crude - Toji Fushiguro x Fem! Reader [NSFW]

tags: NSFW, MDNI, non-canonical dirty Toji Fushiguro, scent/musk kink, fingering, shower sharing, oral sex, dominant Toji Fushiguro, thigh-fucking, over-the-shoulder, prone bone, multiple positions/orgasms, spanking, accidental creampie, wrap it before you tap it psa

wc: 2.9k

synopsis: Toji Fushiguro is a dirty man.

a/n: i need toji fushiguro 3-D body pillow asap. i'm back baby, i mean kinda, i dunno lemme know

You were sure you'd seen this man wearing this outfit for eight days straight. You could almost smell it. Toji had showed up for a date, one that you offered for the man to eat something, and here he was practically putrid and ripe.

"Why the fuck...?" You began, instantly reaching for your nose to cover it up. "Toji, come on."

He sat back on his chair, stretching his large arms over his head. The sweat stains under his arms were gray and lived-in, the hair under his arms matted and rancid. Not a swipe of deodorant in sight.

And this man came through your apartment lobby like this. You covered your mouth then, recycling your bit of untainted air back through your nose.

"What? I've been busy," he said, crossing his hands behind his head after scratching at his crotch over his shorts.

Toji kicked a foot up on your table, accentuating his stench with the flutter of his athletic shorts. You looked away, noting his shorts leg ride up to show his bare thigh.

"Bullshit!" You exclaimed, pointing in the direction of your bedroom. "Shower, three times. Please."

Toji scoffed, hiding a roll of his eyes as he planted his foot back to the floor. He stood, dropping his arms and towered over you. Leaning in, he met your gaze and grabbed your wrist from your mouth.

You attempted to hold onto your clean air for a moment longer until this man stole it from you; he sneered, nosing you teasingly before pecking your lips.

"You're more than welcome to join me." He breathed into your face, causing your nose to screw up at the sour scent wafting from his mouth.

You shut your eyes, hid a disgusted shudder from his assaulting demeanor. "After you brush your teeth."

Toji's hand grabbed at your jaw, righted you before him and open mouth huffed in your face. "Won't change shit if I eat pussy afterwards."

Your top lip curled, the want to be disgusted stamped down by the hum of desire that began from your core. You wished your body didn't react to his words that way, especially with how rancid he came off.

"Do I offend you?" Toji teased menacingly, raising an arm to flex his bicep before wafting his stench in your direction.

Of course he reeked. It was a scent only Toji could produce, so foul and ripe from sleeping and working out in the same filth to concentrate his body odor. But it was also an alluring scent from him as well.

Masculine and sharp, his skin a salty and rough texture on naturally soft skin. You blinked and shook your head.

"Shower, Fushiguro. Right now." You demanded, swatting your boyfriend's hand from your face.

Toji spared a grimace at you, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and peeling it off while heading in the direction of the bathroom. He rubbed the soiled fabric harshly under his arms then tossed it back at you with a purse of his lips. An air kiss.

"Put that in the hamper, doll."

You stood, your boyfriend's disgusting shirt assaulting your senses with the throw and now in your hands. Glaring after Toji, you balled up his shirt and threw it hard in the direction of the laundry.

You followed after Toji, in the direction of your bedroom, to retrieve him a new towel and washcloth. He leaned his head out of the bathroom with a muted whistle, his mouth foaming white with his spare toothbrush shoved into his cheek.

"Come on," he drew out, his eyes raking along your body. "Get dirty and clean at the same time."

You playfully ignored him, grinning to yourself as you rifled through the linen closet to retrieve his towel. Returning to the bathroom, you held the towel out for him and he gripped your wrist, pulling you into the bathroom.

Mouth clean of foam, Toji hiked you onto the counter and dove in to kiss you. His hands wasted no time, grabbing at your pants and expertly peeling them off of you. He left you no time to protest, his fingers, which you willfully ignored the thought of them being filthy, found your clit and pet in circles.

Toji wedged between your knees, diving his tongue between your lips as a teaser while his free hand pawed under your shirt. Tearing your breasts from your bra, he caressed his thumb to your nipple; cradling your breast in his hand, he worked in tandem to break you down instantly.

You bit back to catch your breath, barely an inch from Toji's newly minty lips. His scent without his shirt was stinging, disgusting headiness that made your knees tense at his waist.

Inhaling deep through your nose, you caught onto more of him; layers of his natural body unfurling and mesmerizing you. You gulped, swallowing a taste of his musk.

Toji descended on your lips again, hungered, as his two fingers lingered before your wet pussy. He maneuvered his thumb to press right at your clit, buttoning a shock wave up your spine that he elevated with a slight pinch to your nipple.

You crooned into his mouth, earning his thick fingers sliding into you. You body melted against him, feeling his digits tap against your g-spot and meet the gentle rocking of his thumb.

"Toji," you whined against him, angling your hips out for him to plunge deeper.

He smiled against your lips, continuing his efforts to make you cum. Toji's fingers kept pace while his thumb sped up, weighing down on your clit to have you sit up in anticipation.

"K-keep going," you begged, your hand grabbing his forearm to push him in deeper.

The further his fingers went, the fuller you felt and the closer you felt to seeing stars. You broke from his lips with a pant, turning your head slightly to catch yourself.

Toji forced his nose against your temple, his lips hovering over your ear. "You want to cum so bad. I know you fucking do."

Your brows furrowed, straining against his words and meddling fingers. Your other hand folded over your breast, trying to stop his hand. Toji flushed himself against you, jostling his fingers further inside you.

You folded against his shoulder, open-mouth panting as you came hard on his fingers. Your pussy clenched tightly around his digits, feeling his nails clip slightly into your begging walls. Still, you rode it out, angling your hips to keep the movement going until Toji pulled his fingers away.

He chuckled at the sight, his middle and ring finger glistening with your juices. Keeping your eyes, he licked them clean then dragged his knuckles against your lips to paint you with the remainder.

"Shower," he ordered casually, tilting his head in the direction of your shower guarded with a large glass wall.

You slid off of the counter, regaining your strength with stepping out of your pants. You peeled off your shirt and discarded your bra, walking over to turn on the water.

Toji licked his lips, watching you bend into the open shower stall and flick the faucet on. He dropped his shorts, stepping out of them and allowing the air to embrace his scent.

The new addition had your mouth watering fiercely, the water only adding to the effect. Standing upright, you stepped into the shower stall and waited for Toji to join.

His large frame blocked most of your body from the warm water spray, trickles of the splatter bounced from his shoulders and onto you. You stood, cross-armed, before your boyfriend while he tilted his head back to wet his hair.

The water cascaded down his lean body in deep rivers, splitting over his belly button and following his v-lines to culminate around his penis.

You reached a hand out, grabbing your soap bar, before gripping his hard cock and stroking him easily. Toji's eyelids fluttered as he tilted his head into the spray with a groan.

You licked your lips, holding your soap bar against his hip while you took a knee before him. Toji glanced down at you, ready to watch you take him in your mouth.

You nosed at his cock shyly, inhaling his natural musk before kissing his tip. Tongue tempting the underside, tracing his seam up to his slit. Toji's hands found their way to the sides of your face, seething between his teeth while he knotted his fingers in your hair.

The salt tang on his cock made you melt to your core, thinking of him leaking precum while fingering you. You moaned, opening your mouth to take in Toji's length.

"Good girl, returning the favor," he praised with a grunt. His shoulders relaxed as you took him in your mouth, his cock prodding to the back of your throat.

Toji moaned lowly, his fingers untangling from your hair enough to reach for the shampoo bottle; squeezing a dollop in his hand, he worked it through his own hair, stretching his back and softly thrusting into your mouth.

You managed to bob your mouth on his cock, your soap-filled hand on his hip lathering at his thigh. Your other hand went between your legs, whimpering at the lewd warmth that pooled in your stomach.

"That's right, get yourself off again. Nasty little bitch in heat," Toji barked sultrily, tilting his head down to meet your eyes.

You stared at him, his hair soaped up and his right eye squeezed shut to prevent the slip of shampoo down his forehead. You took him in further, pausing to keep his gaze on you.

His soaped hand carefully caressed your hollowed cheek, groaning in praise. Your other hand grabbed at his hip, working his cock as he twitched before you.

Without warning, you felt Toji's cock spurt at the back of your throat, bouncing lazily against your tongue as his hand gripped at your jaw. "Good fucking girl."

At the same time, you felt your pussy drip onto your fingers in response; pulling yourself off of Toji's cock, you stared at his body before you, glistening and wet. You readily wanted to jump on him, feeling your knees springing in anticipation of what was to come.

Swallowing down his essence, you pulled yourself to your feet. Toji turned you into the spray of shower, combing his fingers through your hair before gathering a second dollop of shampoo.

His fingers started at the bottom of your scalp, tenderly massaging their way up into your hair. You groaned at the gentle work of his fingers on your head, almost as good as between your hips. Toji worked up a lather, going from your temples to the middle of your head and swiping the excess from your forehead.

"Lean into me," he ordered casually, which you followed.

With doing so, his hands slipped down your neck and took the soap from your hands. He lathered around your waist, then up to cup your breasts before squeezing in infatuation.

You giggled, feeling his fingers toy with your nipples. His cock hardened between your thighs, his tip peeking from the front. The warmth in your stomach was emboldened, anxious for the final act.

Resting your head against his shoulder, you welcomed Toji's soft, adoring touch. His fingers roamed along your sides, around your stomach, down your thighs before gripping your hips and shifting you forward.

You hummed, feeling his cock slip back to caress your lips; Toji grunted in response, pulling you back against him and pushing his tip past your slippery thighs.

He did it again, gaining an edge as he tapped his head against your warm entrance. You sighed, eyes rolling as your arm circled behind his neck.

Toji exhaled heavily over your body, turning his scarred lips to meet your ear. "Better than going out, right?"

You smiled, following Toji's manhandling back again with your ass bracing his waist. He pulled a hand back up to cross over your breasts, squeezing harder at you before pulling you up again then down another time.

Your breath caught, met with Toji's tongue darting into your ear. You whimpered, your knees locking together.

"Toji, please," you whined.

He chuckled into your ear. "Giving in?"

You nodded eagerly, the heat bubbling up from your hips into your stomach. Toji turned you around in his hold, then hoisted you over his wet shoulder.

A yelp caught in your throat, your hand bracing the shower tile as Toji shut off the water. He opened the glass door, carried you out of the bathroom and in the direction of the bedroom.

You nervously crossed your calves over one another, a fruitless effort, as Toji stopped at the doorway of your room to admire you on his shoulder.

He tapped harshly at the meat of your ass and thigh, making you flinch then whimper. His fingers stung against your wet skin; they slid over to sink two of his digits into your pussy.

You crooned, your hands bracing the small of Toji's back. He drilled into you, causing your toes to curl as your nails turned into his skin.

"Toji~" you whimpered, your knees melting apart.

He continued, chuckling at your squirming on his shoulder. Then, without warning, he pulled his fingers out of you and licked them clean.

Toji made his way into the bedroom, stopping at the foot of your bed to throw you off of his shoulder.

You bounced in the middle of your previously done bed, your comforter flattening as you stretched out to the head of the bed. Toji grabbed your ankles, flipping you onto your stomach.

He ran his hand up your back, to the nape of your neck before taking grip of your hair. He tugged softly, drawing a moan out of you. With a knee on the bed, Toji tugged a bit harder, bringing you up on your knees to alleviate the pressure.

He grinned at the sight of you pulled up on your knees, your chest pressed to the bed. Toji's other hand took grip of your ass, thumbing your wet pussy open before spitting at your clit.

You grimaced, attempting to hold disgust to your boyfriend's action, but was silenced by his hand guiding his cock from your clit before sinking in.

You released a loud moan, barely stabilizing as Toji's hot cock drove into you slowly. Your knees braced further, steadying yourself as his length pushed up to your cervix.

You dipped your face to the bed, crying out from his girth. Toji bent and nibbled at your back, then up to your shoulder. "I love when you melt from being a brat."

Turning your ear to gather more of his words, Toji tenderly yanked your hair again. Pulling you to gasp as he withdrew from you.

"You could've had this sooner," Toji bit, his teeth lining your ear.

With a snap of his hips, he sank into you again and you folded to the bed. Toji chuckled into your ear, snaking his free hand around to peel you off of the bed.

Turning you on your side, Toji opened your leg with his own and fucked into you again. His hand in your hair relented, circling around to grasp your throat.

You moaned out again, panting along with Toji as he drove into you. Your body felt exposed, your skin alighting with new resolve. His hand grazed your thigh, up and down, then spanked your ass again.

You squeaked, stuck in Toji's hold as he dominated over you. Wiggling in his arms, you were caught tighter with Toji's hand tightening around you. He spanked again, making you tense.

Meeting his cock inside you at the same time of tensing, you came with a ferocity that left you breathless.

Toji paused, relishing in your hot, fluttering walls with soft strokes into you. He milked your orgasm to his benefit, drawing more moans and panting out of you before rolling onto his back.

He braced you upright on his lap, spearing on his cock. You whined, leaning forward to get off of your boyfriend. Toji licked his lips, bracing his hand to the small of your back to ease you back on him.

He gently bounced you on his cock, feeling him reach new depths within you. Toji straightened you up on him again, his hands holding your hips to pump into you.

Toji spanked you again, making you pause to pulse around his cock again. He growled, drawing his hand back to run up your back again.

"That feels so fucking good," he said, spanking again. "Keep doing that."

It wasn't a conscious effort, just a bodily response with each spank he offered. He was relentless, spanking with every pump into you and earning your pussy gripping tighter on his cock.

Toji threw his head back to release a choked moan, pulling you hard onto him. You bowed over, overstruck again with another orgasm.

He rocked his hips, lathering his cock in your drowning pussy, before turning his nails into your skin and coming inside you. You gasped, your hand bracing the bed between Toji's outstretched legs.

In the haze of euphoria, you felt dumbfounded; slowly pulling yourself out of Toji's hold, you felt his nails drag over your skin until his cock slid out of you.

On your knees, you felt his cum drizzle out of you, dripping onto your leg. Toji exhaled in awe, watching you present your gulping pussy before him. He drew his fingers down your leg, gathering his cum and fucking it back into you.

You keeled forward with another moan, squeezing around Toji's fingers as they caressed your molten walls.

He chuckled again, allowing you to hump on his fingers until you collapsed over his body. Pulling his fingers out of you, he offered them for you to lick clean.

"I think you'd be a good mom," he teased into your ear.

[starpearlz]

request for quackity asking the reader (his crush) on a car ride date 🙏 he acts like a teenage girl when reader says yes

Yes or, yes? -> Quackity

“Y/nnnnnn” Quackity followed your Among Us character making you roll your eyes smiling. Deciding on ignoring him for a few seconds to do your tasks and see what he does. “Y/nnnnnn” you sighed playfully “what Q?” He giggled and made his voice with a funny accent, “I heard your coming my way, is that true?”

“I’m definitely not coming your way no.”

“What- no,” he said in his normal voice “I heard your coming to L.A.” he made a lil ‘tee-hee’ noise. “Is that true?”

“Yes, it is true. Why? You wanna come visit meee” you said playing along chuckling. Then foolish approached you two “STOP GO AWAY, STOP FOLLOWING ME.” Quackity yelled at him to make him go away but instead it just made him laugh.

“Why? Am I interrupting something?” He said laughing “YES YOU ARE GO AWAY! IM ABOUT TO PROPOSE-”

“WHAT!” Foolish yelled making you laugh, “-AN IDEA! IM ABOUT TO PROPOSE! NOW GO AWAY!” He yelled to him. “Alright alright, lemme just-“ he killed Quackity making you scream and run away forgetting to report the body and going straight to the emergency button.

While on Quackity stream he started playing “I’m drowning” but the Alvin and the chipmunks version, looking depressed at the fact that he just died the first five minutes.

•

“Y/N PLEASE LET ME JUST TELL YOU MY IDEA!” Quackity pleaded in a corner of the lobby. “OK.. what is your proposal?” He started giggling. “A driving steam!” He said giggling and clapping his hands. “Ok it’s a date!” He giggled “IT’S A DATE!!” I nodded and Quackity told everyone he’s ending stream to get to the laundry mat. You said your goodbyes and saw a message from discord

QUACKITY

We don’t actually have too if you want it’s just a suggestion we can just stream here.

He’s always the sweetest.

USERNAME

I don’t mind! Im ok regular or driving!

QUACKITY

Awesome! We’ll just see when you get here!

USERNAME

sweet!

USERNAME

but! Don’t forget about our date!

QUACKITY

Date?

USERNAME

Ofc! Stream or not you still owe me a car ride date!

On Quackity stream you can see him smiling and giggling. He peeked at chat and saw the embarrassing things chat was saying. “Ok chat!-“ he cut himself off by giggling. “Sorry!” He said covering his face giggling more. “Anyways. I have to go now!”

•

I hope this is ok :)

[4pfsukuna]

Enemies to f⭐️cking lover Toji

Ok so ive been thinking about releasing a 3-5 part enemies to lovers(or something along those lines) for toji although i know the most common works on here is one shot smut. Trust smut will be involved… its toji

You used to be an american spy but japan pays nearly tripple. The jobs were quick easy taking 2 days at max. You had climbed the interest ladder for your ability to get things done in a quick and neat fashion with minimal mess and uproar increasing your salary from 4 figures to six in only a couple of months. Unfortunately theres another assasin whos getting in your way and hes the exact opposite of everything you stand for. 

Not only does he not wear a mask to cover his identity, he lets his targets know exactly who he his just so they can have his name as their last thought before death.

Toji fushiguro.

The biggest jackass youve ever met.

This wasnt your typical one sided beef where youd get mad at him and hed flirt no he had beef with the number one assassin who was stealing his target which means his money. It truly grinded his gears and yours when they made you split a salary.

“Might as well go home princess” you hear his raspy voice though princess was said in a derogatory way hes made it clear several times he hated the way you did things. Why be so… clean. Death is death.

“Fuck off pretty boy go back and crawl into whatever shitty little backroom of a laundry mat and return to horse betting” you seethe having done your research on him. Its not like he needed the money for anything important unlike you who wanted it for taking care of responsibilities back home.

This mission had been one of your biggest yet and you did not need to blow your hiding spot nor cover by arguing with his big ass over nothing.

You're grabbed from the crouching position your in and slammed against the brick wall not hard enough to hurt but it does press into your all black outfit.

“You can do whatever research you want on me but you dont fucking know me… you dont know shit.” he snarls lip on his scar stretching further yet you shove him off. “And im not a pretty boy”

“Please youre not the threat you think you are” you scoff attempting to bruise his ego and the way he steps forward lets you know you did but you never let your guard down to your surroundings and youre quick to pull out your gun aiming in his direction.

He chuckles crossing his arms over his broad chest and you may be uninterested but youre not blind to how his compression tee squeezes him in a way thats… satisfactory to the eye.

“Going to shoot me princess? I thought you were too good to get your hands dirty. Squeemish at blood even” he pokes until you release six shots shooting the men slowly approaching that he failed to notice.

“You fucking shot me!” He growls touching the tiny drip of blood from where the bullet grazed the tip of his ear just enough to break skin not cause any definite damage. 

Taking a bow you smirk before making eye contact with him the only gap in your mask being the slot for your eyes.

“Oh sorry about that pretty boy, ill do you a solid and let you tell shiu you got this one all on your own.” you tease knowing his pride wouldn't let him take the credit for something he wouldn’t do. 

“No i don’t want your pity kill” he seethes looking as if he’s ready to throw a tantrum yet you can only smile knowing you won this battle.

“Great more money for me” you grin running past him the location no longer serving you any purpose. It was time to cash in and Shiu didnt stay up past 2am.

Toji grabs your arm stopping you from escaping though before he could speak the faint sound of sirens in the distance growing closer.

“What? You goin’ to hold me here until the cops get here with these other dead bodies how do you think that’s going to look? A big, strong and muscular giant holding a petite young woman like myself” you victimize yourself and you watch the frustration grow in his eyes knowing he has to let you go.

“Its not fucking over” he hisses releasing you with a slight push making your smile grow even wider.

“Great more chances for me to teach a pup like you what not to do” you tease tearing off a piece of his shirt and pressing it to his ear. “Wouldn’t want your blood at a crime scene would we fushiguru”

And youre dissapearing into the darkness of night and he watches your silhouette slip down an alley until he no longer can. 

You may have thought you had the last laugh but he was best friends with Shiu. So when you near you third week of no assignment you figure its time to reach out to the former and see what the issue is. Learning that Toji somehow convinced him you wanted a break you decided it was time to cut your ties temporarily with the man and find a new “project manager”

The next assignment is the most you’ve ever been offered so high in the six digits it’s close to seven and for a simple retreival mission.

So when youre standing surrounded

“Toj

Waking up with a throbbing headache youre confused when you meet the eyes of a spikey haired 5 year old who is playing with a toy truck a black puppy not to far behind. He must feel you stairing since he turns to face you and gives you a toothy grin.

“My dad must like you, he doesnt let us wear hats in the house but let you keep your mask on” he stutters slightly and you reach up feeling the mask

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

headaches galore

dad!quinn hughes x f!reader

warnings: swearing, headaches, uncharacteristic quinn??, fluff

word count: 4.1k

“There’s something wrong with Daddy.” A frail, worried voice nips through your train of thought, halting your movements as you shut the door to the washing machine.

When you spin around, you’re face to face with Freya. She’s still in her pyjamas, clutching a matted teddy in her hand as the legs of it trailed along the floor. Her eyes are wide, mouth tipping down at the ends as her other hand curled under her chin. She was standing in the doorway of the laundry room, jaw clenching and unclenching as she waited for your reply.

Truth be told, as soon as she’d voiced her worries, about a million things ran through your mind. You’d paused, making sure to gather yourself in the face of your daughter, who was obviously displaying her upset to the extent you now weren’t allowed to show.

You didn’t want your own anxiety to leak through and send her into a panic, because the last thing you needed (if Quinn really wasn’t okay) was a hysterical child and an ill husband on your hands.

So you took a deep breath, trying to calm your thumping heart, and made for Freya, allowing her to clasp her hand in yours, and kneeled in front of her.

If Quinn’s sluggish mood had anything to do with it, you guessed he’d had an oncoming headache all morning and that it had hit; he’d spent the last hour on the sofa, watching and interacting with Freya as Harry Potter played softly in the background.

“What’s happened?” You asked her, smoothing her dark waves in your palm as your eyes sought a pair of feet hanging off the sofa, only just in your line of view from where you were.

“I was playing with my Legos and asked if he wanted to play too, and he didn’t answer.” She worried, catching her bottom lip with her teeth and fidgeting from side to side as she refused to completely make eye contact with you.

You knew she was going to be a worrier when she grew up.

You offered a reassuring smile, picking her up as you climbed to your feet. Her head immediately swung in the direction of the front room, fingers going up to anxiously play with her lip. You caught the action, gently pulling her hand away before she worked herself up too much, “Is he sleeping?” You whispered, taking her down the corridor in the direction of the living room.

Quite early on, when Freya had learnt to walk and talk, you and Quinn had quickly had to devise a way of dealing with her small anxieties, and the one that you both seemed to naturally fall upon was asking her questions to encourage her to see things for what they were.

She nodded, her eyes flicking to yours. You could see the telltale signs of tears beginning to well up in her eyes, though she tried to hide it from you.

You smiled back at her, “I think Daddy might just have a headache–”

“What’s a headache?” Freya quizzed, her brows furrowing apprehensively as she clutched the teddy closer to her chest.

“A headache is when your head or face hurts.” You whispered, making your way to the front of the sofa, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, just a few feet away from Quinn.

Like you’d assumed, he was fast asleep, a leg slung over the edge of the sofa and his arms folded uncomfortably under his head. His neck was perched at an awkward angle, and you cringed, knowing when you woke him up he’d probably be in even more pain than he was at first.

You kept Freya in one arm, and knelt down in front of him. His cheeks were flushed red, and his mouth was parted slightly, chest slowly rising and falling with each breath he took.

“Is he okay?” Freya whispered terribly, climbing out of your arms and sitting in front of his face.

“He’s fine, honey.” You paused, hesitating to wake him up just yet, “If you look closely, you can see his chest moving, can’t you?”

She looked briefly at Quinn, then turned back and nodded at you, restless as she pushed herself to her feet.

“That’s how you know he’s okay.” You whispered.

You knew if you didn’t wake him up right now, Freya would only fret even more, so you leant forwards, very aware of her keen eyes as they followed your hand to gently touch his forehead.

He was scorching. No wonder he’d only thrown on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts today.

You felt a slight resistance, his head unconsciously leaning towards the coolness offered by your hand, and trailed your touch up to his hair, softly carding your fingers through. You didn’t know if it was a coincidence or a choice on his behalf, but you’d noticed he’d rarely cut his hair past his ears since he’d met you. It always seemed to curl down his neck nowadays; locks draped across his forehead when he laid down.

You thought it was rather breathtaking.

Freya seemed to settle a little, one of her small hands delicately resting on his forearm. You almost wanted to laugh – that she’d copied your actions and applied them to his arm instead, but there was a lingering worry that her anxiety would only increase with her age. It was always there.

“Daddy?” She whispered, as his eyelashes fluttered slightly, his breathing becoming ever so shallower as he came to. “Are you awake?”

The first thing he did when he opened his eyes was look straight at you, a slight edge of confusion on his face. His eyes seemed to automatically squint, as though he was attempting to block out the pain, and just one glance at him confirmed your suspicions. 

Something in your chest panged, and it was then that he turned his attention to the little lady eagerly anticipating his affections, and a small smile broke onto his face, “I’m awake, sweetheart. Did I fall asleep?” He pushed himself up, groaning as he righted himself from the awkward angles he’d placed himself in, and you took the opportunity to go into the kitchen.

You filled up a glass of cold water and took some painkillers from the cupboard and made your way back into the front room.

“–you want to play Legos with me?” Freya was back at the upturned box in the middle of the room, her previous distress seemingly forgotten as she rooted through the tub, the awful grating noise sounding from across the room.

You took a seat next to Quinn, and interrupted him before he could answer, “I’ll play with you instead. I think we should let Dad rest for a bit.” You interjected, passing him the water and pills.

You knew that no matter what state he was in, whether it be sickness, flu, broken bones or injured limbs, he’d never be able to say no to Freya when she asked him for anything. This seemed to be one of those times you’d have to make him rest if he wanted to feel better.

Thank you, he mouthed gratefully.

You shook your head, patting his thigh. Don’t worry about it.

If this happened five years ago, things would be a little different: you’d both be curled up on the sofa, something for you to watch on the TV in the background. Usually Quinn would be draped on you, your fingers twirling his hair as he was lulled into a sleep. It was part of his cure.

Now, however, things had been undoubtedly different since Freya had arrived. You couldn’t ignore the world and snooze on the sofa together – there was a little one running around that took instant priority, but as much as you loved Freya (to smithereens), you couldn’t help but feel a little like you were neglecting Quinn instead of making sure he was properly alright.

Nevertheless, when you sat on the floor, your back to the sofa – feeling the cushions dip against your back as a hand wove itself in your own hair, that guilt eased up a little. 

Freya was interested in her Lego for about five minutes, you following her lead as she voiced creatures and made up her own little narrative, before she quickly lost interest, her eyes becoming transfixed on the Harry Potter film playing in the background. She stopped playing, her actions becoming slower as she became distracted by the people on screen, and after a while of her sitting with her jaw open, taking in what was in front of her, she stood up and walked over to the corner of the room.

You watched, smiling behind your hand, as she dragged her beanbag chair into the centre of the room, plopping down on it without a care in the world. She seemed to have forgotten you were playing with her, but truthfully you didn’t mind. 

She was nearly five, and she was already quite determined for her age. You knew that beanbag chair was pretty heavy for her to lift; she’d occasionally made a performance of dragging it along the carpet, huffing and puffing and pretending to wipe a layer of sweat off her forehead as you and Quinn giggled to yourselves.

It was a sharp tug on your hair that startled you out of your own head, and you lent your head back against the cushion of the sofa, your smile broadening as Quinn pressed a quick kiss to your forehead.

He shuffled backwards on the sofa, opening up the space for you to lie down now that Freya had settled, and you eagerly climbed up, your back soon pressed to the cushion as Quinn settled himself on top of you, sighing in relief.

“How are you feeling?” You whispered, one hand immediately moving up to play with his hair as the other trailed to his back, rubbing across the material of his shirt. It was a grey Under Armour one, one that hugged his torso nicely, giving you a good look at the expanse of his back.

“Better now.” He whispered, “Missed you.”

A warmth emanated in your chest, and you melted into him, “Missed you too.”

“Was she okay earlier? She looked a bit wobbly when I woke up.” He adjusted himself so he was looking at you, and you shook your head.

Something in his expression dropped, and your hand travelled to his face, carefully tracing a thumb over his cheekbone, drawing his attention from Freya to you. He was biting the inside of his cheek, eyes concerned.

“She was a bit scared when you didn’t wake up. She found me in the laundry room and I had to explain that you were fine.” 

Immediately you saw the guilt pool in his eyes as he turned back to the beanbag chair. You couldn’t see her over the back of it, but there were stray wisps of brown curls standing up from where Quinn had tied her hair up earlier.  

“I should have just taken some painkillers.” He muttered.

“You would have gone to sleep anyway.” 

He sighed, defeated. He knew you were right – there was no point in arguing.

You took a breath, pulling his mind away from the conversation before even he ended up in his own pit of agitation – inevitably, that he was the one that had caused Freya’s anxiety (you suspected she was so anxious because she’d been raised in a post-lockdown world where only now people were returning back to normal) – and focused back on the bags under his eyes.

“Speaking of sleep…” You trailed off, and Quinn brightened slightly, readjusting himself so his back was pressed to the back of the sofa, one leg slung over your waist and his face hidden in your neck. It gave you a bit of breathing room, but it also meant he could see Freya.

You wrapped an arm over his shoulders, pulling him closer, and you felt him press a tired kiss to the side of your neck.

Your attention turned back to the film, only when you looked over at Freya, her face was poking out from the side of her bean bag chair, eyes carefully watching you and Quinn. You could see the mischievous, slightly longing, glint in her eye before she’d even made the conscious decision to move herself, and you let out a breath of laughter as she came bounding towards you two, Quinn cracking his eyes open at the banging of footfalls.

“I love you, please can I cuddle?” She asked sweetly, and you felt Quinn squeeze you a little harder, trying to reign in the urge to just keep her locked in both your arms for the rest of her life.

You don’t know how it’d happened, but whenever she asked for things, she always started with an ‘I love you’. The first time she’d done it, you could barely restrain yourself around Quinn, because, my word, you guys created that little bundle of adorable cuteness. It still hadn’t really changed, only this time Quinn was less subtle in his hints.

Her face lit up, Quinn’s eyes looking back at you through her as she excitedly – yet gently – climbed on top of you. Quinn pushed himself further towards the back of the sofa, you shuffling towards the edge, as she slotted perfectly between you both. Her head was where Quinn’s had previously been, and she was sandwiched pretty comfortably between you both. You placed a hand on her head – she was still watching Harry Potter – and looked over the top of her to Quinn, who was grinning ear to ear. When he caught your gaze, he winked, and you rolled your eyes.

‘I want another’ he pointed comically at Freya, careful not to catch her eye with his movements.

He was beginning to get predictable, but you wouldn’t choose to have it any other way.

___

You’d put Freya to bed a little over an hour ago, and had only just managed to get settled into bed; your bedside light on as you read your book. The rest of the house was dark, save for the bathroom light that stayed on through the night just in case, and Quinn was trying to sleep next to you.

He’d been shuffling for a while, unable to get comfy – until he froze, the sudden stillness catching your eye.

“What?” You asked tensely, unsure as to whether or not he was shocked over something or panicked.

He waited a second before answering, “Can you hear that?” He whispered.

You held your breath. At first you couldn’t hear anything, but then came the faint sound of small footsteps across the landing, and the light streaming from the bathroom was blocked.

In its place was a sleepy girl, once again clutching her teddy to her chest. Her hair was wild and scruffy, and instead of opting to sleep in pyjamas for the night, she’d chosen to wear a pirate costume instead – she wore a pair of baggy red and white shorts, with a white t shirt and black vest top, the pocket complete with a skull and crossbones. 

You thought she looked utterly adorable – and not at all menacing, no matter how many times she’d brandished a plastic sword in your face in an attempt to avoid being put to bed. You and Quinn had had to take turns trying to get her in because neither of you could keep a straight face for too long.

Now, however, neither of you wore a smile.

“Are you okay, baby?” Quinn asked first, being closest to the door.

She shook her head, rubbing her eyes as she made her way over to him, “My hair hurts.” She explained, pulling an uncomfortable face.

Your curiosity peaked, and you put your book back on the bedside table, watching as Quinn frowned, lifting her onto the bed with undeniable ease. 

“Your hair?” He echoed, looking at you with a dumbfounded expression on his face.

You met his gaze, trying not to smile, “Can you show us where it hurts?” You asked, turning back to her, “We’ll see if we can help, won’t we?” You looked back at Quinn, a stern look in your eye as you saw the corners of his mouth begin to tilt upwards.

He was still trying to digest the fact that her hair hurt.

Freya was oblivious, nodding eagerly as she placed a hand to the sides of her head, right over the top of her temples.

“Do you know what you need to solve that?” You asked rhetorically, slowly lifting the covers up, catching the way Quinn’s face fell out of the corner of your eye. He doesn’t particularly enjoy sharing the bed with a four year old that has a habit of kicking in the night, “Cuddles.”

Freya giggled, finding the exact answer she was hoping to hear (you knew you played right into her hands, but how were you supposed to say no to that face?), as she wriggled under the covers, once more placed between you both.

“If you’re not feeling any better in five minutes, just let us know, okay?” Quinn asked softly, as you reached to turn off your light.

You felt her nod beside you.

It was quiet. For a few minutes.

“Daddy?” She whispered, and you fought the urge to laugh. You kept your eyes shut, hoping she’d see you were still asleep and keep bothering Quinn.

“Yes?”

“I love you, please can you do the face-thing?” 

You knew as soon as she’d said those three words that Quinn was done for. There was no way he’d never not say break and give her what she wanted when she asked like that.

“Of course I can.” He replied, shuffling closer as Freya rolled onto her back, an arm nearly thwacking you in the face in the process. At the brush of contact you allowed your eyes to open, slyly watching as Freya laid on her back, hands by her sides with her eyes shut as Quinn dutifully and earnestly began stroking his fingers across her face.

He delicately traced her eyebrows, her forehead unintentionally crumpling at the sensation, eliciting a light chuckle from yourself and Quinn, the sound catching his attention as he glanced over at you accusingly.

He didn’t waver in maintaining Freya’s service, his touch going to her cheekbones, ones that almost mirrored his perfectly, even at her young age, and then across the bridge of her nose, before repeating the entire cycle without complaint.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scene, something twisting in your gut as you observed Quinn and Freya together, the way he didn’t falter in his movements even though you knew for certain that his arm must have begun to ache from his diligent work.

He was such a good dad it almost brought you to tears thinking about it — because you knew he threw his heart and soul into the role because he wasn’t around as often as he’d like to be, a sad fact that Freya had gotten used to over the years.

You guessed that’s why she had such a special attachment to him, why a lot of her anxieties revolved around him. She was a pretty proactive personality, even though she was too young to realise that herself, and if she couldn’t see Quinn, she worried he wasn’t okay.

The first time you’d clocked the pattern was when he’d left in a three week roadie and she’d become hysterical to the point of being inconsolable after he’d taken a puck to the cheek and had to skate off the ice, clutching his face — no matter how quick you’d been to cover her eyes when the replay was shown, she managed to see the drip of blood onto the ice. How she’d understood what it meant at three was astounding to say the least.

When the camera didn’t show him for the last ten minutes of the match, you’d had to resort to turning it off (even though there was a chance he’d be called for post-game interviews) and waiting rather impatiently for him to call when he was free, in the hope Freya would calm herself before going to sleep.

It was then that Quinn had resorted to tapping his helmet three times after he’d gotten injured in play — it was the only way he could reassure Freya (and yourself) that he was okay.

After a few minutes, you both heard and saw her chest rise and fall, a little slower than before. Her breathing pattern had changed and her head had slumped a little in your direction, mouth falling open.

Quinn smirked that half-awkward way, looking at you proudly. The action had you rolling your eyes fondly, a hint of a smile on your face as he carefully slipped his arms under Freya’s body, carrying her back to her own room with an ease that had your toes tingling. 

You watched the door, eagerly anticipating his arrival once more, and when he’d gently shut it behind him, careful not to let the handle click too loudly, he smiled mischievously, jumping onto your side of the bed with the uncharacteristic giddiness of a teenager.

You lifted the covers up, welcoming him back into the warmth, “You’re so soft with her.” You whispered, going slightly cross eyed as he positioned himself on top of you, arms caging in your head as his forehead pressed to yours.

The cheeky twinkle in his eye wasn’t lost on you, nor was the way every inch of him seemed to be pressed directly against you. 

“Of course I am, she’s my firstborn.” He answered simply, lifting his forehead from you to pull back and press a charged kiss on your lips. 

“Firstborn?” You tilted your head, resisting the urge to smile at his obvious meaning, one hand going to cradle his forearm and the other brushing his hair from his face so your view of him was unobstructed.

Although you couldn’t see the change in colour that splattered his cheeks, you knew he was blushing purely because of the way he shrugged and turned his head away from you pointedly.

“Never say never, you know?” He mumbled.

He was right, in a sense. You had talked about the possibility of having more children, but you’d insisted it wasn’t something to plan just yet because there was absolutely no way you were having two children under five.

That was four years ago, and Freya was going to be five in four months — another fact that wasn’t lost on you.

There was also the unavoidable matter of Quinn and his habit of getting himself broody. It didn’t take much, mostly it was Freya and whenever she did something heartachingly precious and he just couldn’t contain his love for her, and sometimes it was as easy as a video of a baby flashing up on his phone or even a teammate taking their kid into work.

Or any child on the ice for that matter.

You hummed in agreement, “I do know.”

He raised his brows, trying not to get too hopeful at your wording, “Does that mean…”

“Not right now, but I think we should talk about it in the morning.” You replied, his smile infectious as he rolled off you, pretending to pump the air with his fists in triumph.

“Really?” He turned back to you, and you rolled your eyes at his giddiness.

“Really.” 

“Oh my God, I’m so excited.” He breathed, dragging a hand down the side of his face, “My heart is beating so fast.”

You laughed, turning on your side to face him, “Headache cured then?”

At this, his head snapped back to your face, a caught, almost panicky glint in his eye as his smile dropped fractionally, “I never said that.” He sounded almost offended, wincing for show.

You knew it was a lie – his energy levels were significantly higher than they had been earlier, and you could tell just by the way his eyes were fully open and lacking that telltale squint and weariness of the world around him that he was back to normal.

“Oh?” You teased, “Because I don’t think I believe you.”

“You don’t have to believe me to still be able to cuddle me.”

“Jesus Christ, Quinn–” You laughed, not complaining or uttering a single protest of any kind as he wrapped a secure arm over your waist, pulling you closer to him, the duvet going straight over both your heads.

“You love it.” He insisted.

You sighed, “I do, I love it.”

“And you love me, too.”

You hesitated, pretending to think about it, until his fingers went to pinch your side, eliciting your laughter, “I really do.”

[ashlynredonovitch]

Saw you're looking for requests 😁 i haven't seen the wonka movie yet tbh but the gif of him covered in chocolate lives in my head rent free and I'd love to see wonka x fem!reader where they're friends and both have a crush on each other. she's helping him clean up from chocolate incident and it turns into some silly fluff and one of them accidentally says "i love you" and they finally confess :)

Thank you so much for the request, and don’t worry about the double-send it’s completely okay! I hope this is what you envisioned!

Warnings: none it’s just cute

Chocolate Towel

Willy, who’s covered in some brown, thick, substance. Assumingly chocolate knowing the trio of unliked chocolatiers. You start your way over to him as Noodle skips over to Abacus for a hug. You take notice that she’s covered in the same thing.

“Y/n,” Willy almost yells once he notices your presence,excusing himself from the family he was talking to. He wraps his arms around your waist as you reciprocate his hug.

“Hi, Willy,” you giggle lightly, taking in the chocolate scent, cause now it’s definitely chocolate, “what did they do to you? You’re so sticky.”

Willy’s brows furrowed at your worried expression as he took a glance at your appearance as well, making sure you were alright, “well, I’m fine now, they tried to drown Noodle and I in chocolate, but the little orange man saved us.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You questioned, backing up out of the hug. No way the little orange man was real.

“Yeah, we were being lifted by thousands of gallons of chocolate, we both took a breath, and then the next thing I knew I heard Noodle and I gasping for air and the tank was lowering,” Willy said, as he looked at your now even more worried expression, “it was scary, though, I swore that last breath I took was it. That I’d never see light again, that I’d never see you again.”

“Oh, Willy.” You muttered, throwing your arms back around him, simply taking in his presence, as you feel his arms squeeze tighter around you, his face in your neck, “I was so worried.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Willy apologized as you leant against each other.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Mr. Wonka, you almost died. I’m very glad you didn’t though.” You teased as Willy let his face contort to a smile at the name, “come on, we have to clean you up.”

You take Willy’s hand as you lead him down towards the dock, where you take off the hand towel from your waistband, to dip it in the lake water below the stairs.

“Y’know, y/n, this is where the Cartel sent me off on the boat,” Willy explained as you wrung out the excess water, convenient that you had a towel on you, the one perk of you being trapped in a laundry, he supposed.

“You did tell me that,” you dabbed the now wet towel along his face, clearing some of the chocolate, avoiding looking into his eyes.

Willy watched in amusement as you kept dipping the towel in the water because of its small size against the rather thick layers of chocolate on him, “I appreciate your effort, thank you.”

You smile as you take the chance to look directly at him, “of course, I’d do anything to help you, Willy. Besides, your chocolate smells better than this anyway,” you confess as he squeezes your arm with the towel, stopping your motions of cleaning him up. With your free hand, you bring it to his once curly hair to try to break apart the matted chocolate covering it.

Willy just leans into the touch as your fingers try to thread through it, his fixed gaze upon your lips, “I love you,” he whispered before his eyes slightly went wide.

You focus your eyes on his as he quickly snaps his up away from your lips, smirking slightly, “Willy-“

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean that. I mean, I did, just not now, while I’m half-covered in chocolate.” Willy rants as you stare affectionately at him.

“Y/n, what is it?” Willy asks as he brings his right hand up to cup your cheek.

“I-” you started to say, before you saw his eyes glance back down to your lips, “I love you too.”

Willy’s eyes, once again, grew as he looked into your eyes for any glimpse of the truth.

You smile as you put your hand on his, which was still on your cheek, your other hand still in his hair, “I do, I love you Willy Wonka.”

Willy beams as he throws his resting hand in your waist to bring you closer, putting his forehead against yours, “I want to kiss you, y/n,”

You smile as your hand starts to massage his head, putting your other hand over his shoulder, “please.”

Willy wasted no more time as he closed the distance between you, his soft lips covering yours as you leaned into the kiss. Getting even closer as you feel his hand tighten around our waist.

“Willy,” you gasp, pulling away, seeing his now kissed-pink lips, breathing heavily.

“Yeah?” He asks leaning in for a much more simple peck this time, taking one of his hands to tilt your chin up to his. Both of you with rosy stained cheeks.

“I’m glad you didn’t die, but I’m glad you got covered in chocolate,” you whisper with a giggle as Willy holds your chin in his hand.

“Me too, y/n, me too.” Willy says as you lean back in for another passionate kiss.

[oneforthemunny]

I heard something about angsty fics around here? Am I right? I'm not sure about the plot, but it has to be cowboy eddie!

Pretty please. Something about sweet girl keeping a secret, but a totally innocent one, just to not concern him. But he found out accidentally, and all was a misunderstanding. He talked to her really harshly, accusing her of cheating and not being trustworthy. Something like that plz plz plz

"Thanks, Gare. I think he's gonna love it." You whispered, cradling the landline to your ear. You could hear the creak of the screen door followed by Eddie's heavy boots on the wood floor, heart skipping.

"I gotta go. Thank you. Talk to you soon." You slid around the kitchen wall's corner, slipping the phone back on the hook as silently as you could, wincing at the small click of the phone settling.

"Hey, honey." You greeted, slinking towards Eddie sweetly. "You done already?"

Eddie grunted in response, stripping his socks, tossing them in the laundry room.

Irritation consumed you, though you tried to mask it. Eddie had been so moody lately. You assumed it was because of his birthday. He always got weird around his birthday, which is exactly why you were determined this year to make it a good one.

"Are you hungry? I kept your sandwich in the fridge, since you didn't come in at lunc-"

"-Who were you on the phone with?" A piercing, furrowed brow gaze met yours suddenly. Canopied by matted curls from a day's work, you could still see the deep lines on his forehead, furrowed.

"What?" You chirped, eyes wide, round in caught surprise. Shit, he'd heard you. How the hell had he heard you? You'd been so quiet, so careful, wanting to surprise him. The look of pure shock, it would be priceless.

You expected to see his lips curl in a smirk, shake his head at you, tell you something along the lines of, "c'mon, baby, can't get anything past me, y'know that".

It never came.

Instead, Eddie's eyes flashed in fury- hurt. Nostrils flaring in a deep breath he tried to swallow down, tried to keep his anger from flaring.

"Who were you on the phone with?" Eddie gritted, an eerie steadiness to his tone that had you shuddering, stomach twisting in fear.

"I-I was- I was just calling to check on my prescription." A stuttering of a lie fell from your lips, nails digging into the palms of your hands. "Just calling to see when I needed to go into town to pick it up-"

"-Y'know," Eddie huffed, standing to his full height, looming over you. "If you're gonna fuck around on me, you could have the decency not to do it in my home."

My home. The words, the tone of his voice, it sent icy waves of fear down your spine. The last time Eddie had called the home "his place" was before you moved in, since then it had been shared with the two of you. Our home, our place, ours.

"What?" Your own brows furrowed this time. "I'm not fucking with you-"

"-No, no, no." Eddie shook his head, taking a striding step towards you. "That's not what I said. I said fucking around on me." There was a beat, your face falling in hurt, his steeling in fury. "Because that's what you're doin'? Aren't you? Fucking around on me?"

"Are you out of your goddam mind?" It was your turn to scoff, angry and insulted. "Did Medusa kick you in your fucking head or something?"

"Don't!" Eddie's voice boomed, hand smacking against the doorframe, a loud echoing of a hit. You stilled, eyes wide, he'd never been this angry- not with you at least. Not at you.

"Don't you come in my fucking house, fucking around on me when I've done nothing-nothing but love you!"

"I'm not fucking around on you, Eddie! Christ, have you lost your mind?" You shouted back, taking a furious step towards him, the two of you in a stand off. "I mean, what is the matter with you? You think I-I'm cheating on you?"

"You think I'm stupid?" Eddie sneered, jaw tight. "You sneakin' around, makin' phone calls all day? Runnin' off into town? I might be a lot of things, honey, but dumb ain't one of 'em."

"You are dumb." You snapped bitterly. "Stupid, even. If you think I'm cheating on you. What the fuck is the matter with you?"

"Who is he?" Eddie's hands gripped the door frame. "Huh? I deserve to know. Who is he?"

You gawked, baffled, furious, embarrassed. Eddie thought you were cheating? Cheating? How did something so kind, so thoughtful that you were trying to do for him, backfire to this? It made you feel hurt, insulted.

"Who is he?" You scoffed. Eddie's face didn't move, expression not softening, not falling. You could feel the burn filling your chest, your nose, suffocating you.

Stomping over to your purse, you flipped it upside down, dumping the contents of it out. There, amongst the change and hair ties, you snatched the receipts you'd shoved to the bottom of your purse. Business cards, a small neon invitation, and wadded receipts from the party stores, balling them in your hand, flinging them at Eddie's face furiously.

"You want to know who I've been talking to?" You sneered, watching Eddie scan the receipts, face slowly falling as he read the item- a birthday cake written confirmation note order with the small note added, "Happy Birthday, Eddie!" in red piping. The date for next Saturday, his birthday.

"I've been on the phone with Gareth." You spat, trying to swallow the tears already brimming your waterline. "I've been sneaking around and trying to plan you a surprise party, because I wanted you to have a good birthday for once."

Eddie felt sick, a wave of nausea crashing over him, head spinning in a dizzying ache. A small invitation, "Shh! It's a secret!" in bold, funky lettering on the invitation, Gareth's address written below.

"Oh." Eddie croaked. His eyes met yours again, though this time, he wore the rounded look of shame. "I, um, I-I didn't me-"

"-You're a fucking asshole." You spat, blinking through tear stained vision, stomping up the stairs in a hurt fury, ignoring his cries and pleas that you cut off with the slamming of the bedroom door.

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 57)

Alexia Putellas x Character (17)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((** Mentions of Lucy and YFN | 4.1K **))

Alexia POV

Alexia’s heart dropped as the door clicked shut. Her emotions boiled over and she let the tears slide down her cheeks. The past few weeks since her injury she felt lonely, weak, cut-off. She did do some of that herself, truthfully. She’d cut herself off from the team to not lay her burden on them. And now it seemed that on top of that, nearly a year of desperately pining over Ridley, she’d also walked away.

Alexia was strong, though. She wiped the tears away. She was used to be alone.

She bent down to do what she always did when upset, put her headphones on and listen to music and then; she explored.

The next hour or so she let herself wander through the penthouse, her mind putting even more pieces of the puzzle together that was Ridley. Neat. Modern. Exceptionally maintained. Obviously created by a very, very good architect and she imagined that Ridley would have been very close to the project in it’s entirety.

Downstairs was the kitchen, the vast living area, laundry, three large bedrooms with ensuites and a sunken theatre room at the far end which was soundproofed. She shook her head at the enormity of it all. She’d stayed in some nice places over the years, but this was something else. She took her time, her hand gliding across surfaces as if they’d speak to her.

She walked outside to the balcony which ran the length of the penthouse, with an outdoor lounge, barbecue area, and a spa attached to a lap pool that beckoned her. She bent down and swiped her hand through. Warm enough to swim and still workout. She’d be coming back to that later.

She moved towards the indoor stairs, that spiralled upwards, her fingers gliding along the perfectly polished wood of the handrail. Upstairs she turned right where there was only one room. Double doors opened to the master bedroom and Alexia hesitated on the doorstep, feeling like she was overstepping. She leant forwards, seeing the large double bed pressed up against the wall, its bedding all different shades of black. She pondered at the bedframe and her thoughts went to Javier’s and his private rooms upstairs where the beds were made for bondage and such. She couldn’t see very well from where she stood, though she did wonder if it had the ability to do just that. Knowing Ridley, the answer was yes. Of course it could. Her mind shifted to how many people had been in that room being pleasured by her. Being adored by her. Being fucke-

Alexia caught herself and her jealousy. No, she wouldn’t let herself go down that path. She turned to the right which was an open bathroom, the bath and a little bit of the shower on display. Two shower heads. Did she used to date someone? Is that why-

No! She scolded herself. Stop. Alexia, stop.

She pulled the bedroom doors closed and made her way to the rooms on the other side of the staircase. One was a gym, a large area with an array of different work out equipment and a large mat in the middle that she assumed was for martial arts. She wondered if she could use it for her rehab with the physio Lucy had suggested. And then her mind shifted to wondering if Ridley would teach her some self-defence there…

There was a library and work office together in one room, separated by a large archway without a door. Somewhere she could zoom into Jonatan or the Barca physios if she needed. One wall was purely glass ensuring it was hit with the perfect amount of sunlight and it had a door leading out to another balcony which ran down to the master bedroom.

Past those two rooms and at the end of the hallway was a dark door which she opened to a pitch black room. Her hand felt around for the light switch and felt the familiar feel of soundproofing. As she flicked the lights on, she realised it was a music studio. Ridley and her love of music. Alexia had never attempted to learn an instrument before, always too busy with her other hobbies. Saying that, she loved music. It was her life, it lifted her when she was sad, calmed her when frustrated and even prepped her for games. She couldn’t live without it.

She felt the guitars and wondered which was her favourite, or if perhaps it was the piano sitting alone. The studio was set up well with a sound booth as if to properly record music and she wondered if she had. She went back out to the control room outside the sound booth and looked through the music on the shelves. There were vinyls, she smiled at the CD’s – how millennial of her – and then sat down at the desk in front of the Mac.

Although Ridley had said she was welcome to anything and everything, she did feel a little like she was intruding. Regardless, she made her decision and clicked on the touchpad. The screen lit up. There was no password, surprisingly, it just went straight to the desktop. Alexia searched around hesitantly, hoping to find some music, any music. At least that’s what she tried to convince herself. Really, she knew what she was looking for. And… she found it. A whole file of it. Ridley’s music.

She hesitated again, her mouse icon hovering over the first file. She connected her headphones to the computer and clicked on that first file. And then there it was, the sound of an acoustic guitar softly being played. She closed her eyes and leant back into the chair, listening to the gentle way Ridley was playing the instrument, as if expressing her emotions from the deepest part of her. Alexia could feel her mind calming, her body relaxing and then… her voice. Like she’d never heard it before. She’d heard her playing loudly for crowds at Javier’s with a band. She’d heard her do covers. But she’d never heard her like this. Vulnerable. Passionate. Almost whispering. Her voice husky with emotion. She sung in Spanish and again, Alexia found herself crying and feeling everything Ridley was at the time she’d recorded it. Oh, Ridley. Was music her only escape?

The song ended and Alexia was a mess, sitting in the darkened room, her eyes red and puffy from the tears she’d allowed to escape. Or rather, the tears that Ridley’s voice had drawn from her. She moved her mouse icon to the second file and went to click when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Alexia yelped and jumped in her seat, getting the shock of her life. Ridley?

She spun to an older man looking guilty. He spoke, but she couldn’t hear. She pulled her headphones down and stood.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologised in Catalan.

“You….you’re…” she hastily wiped her tears away.

“I’m one of the housekeepers, Benjami. Lovely to meet you, la Reina.”

“Alexia, please. Lovely to meet you.” They shared a Spanish hello as another man entered the room.

“Alexia, this is my husband, Richard.”

“Hello, ma’am.” He responded in slightly less comfortable Catalan as he smiled.

They were adorable. Ridley had mentioned they were a couple, but not a gay one.

“You’re both Catalonian?”

Benjami shook his head. “No, I am, however Richard is English.”

That explained Richard’s limited Catalan.

“He move here for I,” Richard explained.

“Oh…” She didn’t know what to say. She felt like she’d just been caught, and that she had too many questions to ask. “Where did you meet Ridley?”

“In Barcelona,” Benjami explained. “My sister and her husband are housekeepers of her home in the city. Richard and I lived there for a long time, and decided it was now fair to spend time in his home too. Ridley offered us this job a few years ago and it’s the best thing that’s happened to us.”

Ridley… how on earth did she think she was ‘not good’? She was the definition of good.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting you. I didn’t see your headphones.”

“No, it’s okay. It’s my fault. Thank you for both speaking Catalan. I miss speaking it…”

“Ridley said you would prefer that.” Benjami smiled.

“Her Catalan is very better than me,” Richard admitted.

“We can speak Spanish or English if you prefer?” She offered.

“No, I want a practice! I am happy for Catalan, thank you!”

“Also I didn’t know which room to put your suitcase in,” Benjami admitted.

“Oh, that’s okay.” She said, smiling thankfully at the older gentleman. “I haven’t chosen yet.”

“I suggest the far one on the left, it gets the best morning light.”

“Okay then, sounds perfect.”

“Would you like dinner?” Benjami asked. “Ridley suggested classic Catalonian for you tonight as you’re already too out of your normality of Barcelona. I know how that feels.”

Ridley was looking after her even when she wasn’t there. “That would be lovely, thanks.”

“Perfect! It’ll take a while as you know, so you have a few hours to keep exploring. It is quite large! We’ll leave you to it.”

They left then and Alexia was stood, not knowing what to do but suddenly grateful she had company. She left the music and went to pick out a bedroom.

Alexia’s suitcase was in the corner bedroom when she got downstairs. She unpacked, even though she didn’t know how long she was staying for, and the first thing she did was use that gym. She pushed herself for a good 45 minutes, feeling guilty that she wasn’t training everyday like the others. Her knee was painful, but she pushed through it, doing her weights and telling herself it was all in her head.

She was warming down on the treadmill when her knee went and she yelped in pain, hopping off and falling to the ground, clutching at her knee. Her mind immediately went to panic. Had she done her meniscus? Her ACL?

She knew it was neither, though she couldn’t stop those being her first thoughts. The pain went away gradually and she sat up, stretching it and massaging it out. Her workout was done.

She limped her way back down to the bottom floor and didn’t bother to change before falling into the pool. That sweet relief. She was a water baby, being Spanish, and felt the immediate ease of tension that was weight on her knee.

Swimming had always been a nice reprieve for her. One of her favourite types of rehabilitation for her knee. She swam a few slow laps before getting out and showering for dinner.

She shared dinner with the older couple who had made several typical Catalonian dishes done very, very well. They chatted, laughed, spoke of home and helped Richard with his pronunciations. They spoke of Benjami picking her up the next day to go to Lucy and Blau’s, organising a time. She said she didn’t know how long she’d be there, but it wasn’t an issue for him. He always found things to do.

Although they insisted she didn’t, she helped them clean up and made sure they took some food home with them as they left.

Alexia settled into bed, full and warm besides the icepack Richard had wrapped up for her knee. She stared at the ceiling wondering again why the fuck she was in London. It was so unlike her, and although Ridley wasn’t there, she seemed to still be taking care of her from afar.

Her protectiveness. Her resilience. Her strength… her voice… her whole aura. The way she protected Blau. The way she truly saw her. Brought them a surprise. Cared for Chiquito. Loved her music.

The way she’d gripped her neck that night, and she hadn’t wanted it to stop.

Alexia’s breathing became ragged as her hands found her neck where she’d been holding and drifted down to tease her nipples through her shirt.

The way she looked at her.

Her fingers trailed down her abdomen and one slipped under her shirt, feeling across the skin of her body while the other drifted lower.

The way she’d leant over her at lunch, her arm and leg warm against her own.

Although they were her own fingers, she still drew in a sharp breath as they slipped through her wet folds which betrayed just how much she liked the Australian.

The way she’d brushed up against her in the plane and asked if she were going to behave.

“Good girl.”

Alexia’s fingers circled her clit with purpose, drawing that legless feeling out of her, and whimpering at the sensations.

The way she’d guided her through fucking another woman, her body against her back as she ate her out. As Ridley had lined their fingers up and pushed them inside of the women together.

Alexia pushed two fingers inside of herself, moaning at the feel and wishing they were Ridley’s. She’d know exactly what she wanted. Her spare hand moved to the other nipple, flicking it. Exciting it. Pinching it.

She thrusted into herself a few times, enjoying the feel of her body mindlessly clenching and unclenching as she pulled her wetness up to her clit and covered it, rubbing herself mindlessly. Needlessly.

The way she’d slipped her hand down and touched her, expertly fucking her as she tasted another. Ridley’s way of keeping that distance between them. She’d touched her like she knew her body better than herself. She’d never entered her, just expertly teased her clit and drawn that ecstasy out of her like it was easy. It was never easy for Alexia, but right now, and with Ridley, it was.

Her spare hand moved up to her throat and choked herself as Ridley had, her back arching off of the bed as she rubbed her bundle of nerves to the point of no return.

Ridley. She’d made her come in just a few minutes, her front pressed warmly against her back; her breath tickling her ear as she murmured encouragement while she came.

She was unable to stay silent as she moaned, whimpered, gasped her name again and again. Ridley. Ridley. Ridley. With her back arched tighter than a bowstring, Alexia came to her memories of the smell of her, the feel of her, the heart of her. And she heard herself let out a pained cry of ecstasy as her body locked up and spasmed.

Ridley’s POV

Ridley hadn’t slept. How could she? She’d suggested Alexia come to London and then left her to be alone. She could offer everything, make sure everyone was checking up on her, but it would never be enough. She didn’t realise just how much she didn’t trust herself around the footballer. Not until the plane.

She was in a meeting and grudgingly entertaining the opinions and suggestions of those around her only because they were key stakeholders, though, she had no plans to go ahead with any of them. It was her company. Her decision. Not a board. She was the majority owner. Her company which was world-wide. The one she’d created from the ground up to provide training to pilots, make recommendations of candidates for piloting positions in the militaries, passenger liners and general aviation around the globe. Her company which covered that large gap in the market and made sure people were adequately trained, resourced and prepared. There was nothing her company couldn’t do when it came to aviation. Provide flight reviews for airlines around the world. Provide appropriate type-rated pilots to fill gaps for the larger companies. Training and type-rating. Liaising with aircraft manufacturers to ensure better ease of use and functionality in the flight decks. It was growing exponentially every year, and always, people had something to say. To suggest. To beg her for. And regardless of any of that nonsense, she was zoned out thinking about Alexia Putellas.

Her lips and her hazel eyes and that hair she was so obsessed with. She could control herself most of the time, but not when it came to pushing the hair from her eyes or tucking it behind her ear.

She knew she could have her right now. She could walk into that apartment and crash their bodies together and Alexia would happily accept it. It would be the most incredible, mindblowing sex. She knew that.

She didn’t need to staying in the hotel in town. There was no reason for her to. She just wanted to provide that distance to avoid any interactions like that. Any possible slips of discipline on her part, not that it wasn’t rare to happen. There was so much good in her, so much happiness. She needed that and Alexia wouldn’t find it in her. Because the good in her, the part that deserved to be loved, died the day her family did.

“And the US navy would like another ten recommendations of…”

The voices drowned away. She knew her colleague was taking notes scrupulously as he usually did. Never missed a beat, that one.

Her body was feeling cold and empty. Nothing could fill it. She thought of calling up one of her regular London benefits but she didn’t because she knew there would be no point. It wouldn’t take the ache away. She was so mad at herself for being so weak, and yet that madness was overcome by that feeling of longing. She needed to make sure she was okay. To know how she was doing.

“I’m going to make a phone call,” she said loudly to the room.

“We’ll wait,” one said quickly, knowing she was the one with the power in the room. It was incredible how submissive powerful men became when they knew they needed her. Which was always.

“No, don’t. Keith is all over it.” She refused and flashed him a wink as she left the room.

She walked out of the conference room of the hotel and found a quiet spot in the bar area, ordering a drink. She pulled out her phone and called Blue.

“Hey Riddles!”

She always loved hearing her say that.

“Hey baby Blue, how are going with everything?”

“Checking up on me are you?”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“I’m not, Lucy just looked offended. I’m great, it’s difficult to do daily tasks but we’re managing. I’m more worried about Lucy’s knee as she carries me everywhere.”

“She’ll be okay.”

“How’s work?” She asked sceptically.

“Oh you know, little men begging.”

“Ah, so you’re having a fun day then.”

“Yeah…”

“What’s up, Riddles? You’re not sounding yourself.”

She took a sip of her drink that had just arrived. The waitress winked as she walked away. “I’m okay.”

“Talk to me…”

“It’s nothing, Blue. How’s Alexia?”

Blue paused, understanding immediately as she usually did. “She’s… good.”

“She’s happy?” At this point, she couldn’t even care how obvious she was being.

“I mean… yes. We’ve been having a fun day.”

The way she spoke made Ridley realise she was probably sitting right next to her, and she would be unable to walk away for privacy with her injuries.

“Doing what?”

Blue laughed. “Well we played a board game and made some lunch and right now I’m being interrogated…”

“And after lunch?”

Blue sighed, probably at her persistence. “Lucy is going to the park with Alexia and Narla to kick the ball around later on while I work. And then Alexia has a rehab session with Meg tonight.”

“Okay.”

“Would you like to co-”

“No. No, I was just checking in.”

“Hm.” She could practically hear her thoughts telling her to just message Alexia.

The thought of her sitting next to Blue and knowing she was checking up didn’t sit well with her.

There was a pause. A moment of silence. She knew Blue wanted to talk, to offer advice but she couldn’t because she was right there. And Ridley… Ridley didn’t know what to say. She was too conflicted.

She knew she should have hung up, but she didn’t.

“Is she happy…?” She asked again.

Blue sighed softly and Ridley could feel her looking at Alexia. “She’s lonely, Riddles.”

Ridley knew she was, but it still didn’t stop it hurting. And the fact that Alexia had heard her say that. Blue was trying to encourage her to get out of the hotel, to spend time with her. But she couldn’t. Her pride wouldn’t let her.

“Thanks for inviting her over,” she murmured.

“It wasn’t for you.”

“I know.”

Ridley hung up, downed her drink and went back to her meeting feeling even more terribly than she had before she’d left.

Alexia POV

The physio, Meg, was attractive. Very attractive. She and Alexia immediately fell into sync with each other and it was just so natural to flirt. She was 100% Alexia’s type, and suddenly, she was back to her dominant self.

Meg hadn’t found anything wrong with her knee, she believed it was performing well and suggested that it may be a mental barrier rather than a physical one. Alexia had also wondered about it, almost wanting to push her knee… to test it to the extreme to see if it would handle the pressure. Meg was patient though. Kind. Caring. She’d massaged her in all of the right places, and relaxed it more than it had been in a few days. The girls had been right, she was fantastic. As her fingers kneaded her upper thigh she thought back to the night before and how she’d touched herself. She quickly pushed the thought of Ridley out of her mind and instead thought back to the last time she’d had sex. She almost gasped when she realised that Ridley was the last to touch her. It had been that long. She hadn’t let anyone touch her since. Part of her wanted to stay that way… and part of her said she needed sex to try and distance herself from her emotions. Maybe that’s why she couldn’t stop thinking about her.

And so Meg flirted, and Alexia flirted right back. Shamelessly. She left the rehab session, having barely made it out without fucking her right then and there. God, she was sexy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow…” she murmured, looking to Alexia’s lips and back.

The only thing stopping Alexia was that they’d only met an hour ago.

“See you tomorrow,” she flirted, flashing her a grin that Meg trembled under.

Meg leant in so close that Alexia’s heart skipped a jump as she slid something into her jacket pocket and whispered. “Message me.”

Benjami was chatty as he drove her back to the penthouse, talking about his day with Richard. It calmed Alexia to listen to it. How could it not? Two people very much in love and excited to share their day with her. They had again planned a dinner for the three of them, having agreed to it after their fun the night before.

Richard greeted them with a far off call from the kitchen as they entered and it smelled like home. So, so good. She hung up her jacket and kicked off her shoes as if she’d been living there for years.

“Ten minutes!” Richard called.

Dinner was almost ready. It was much, much earlier than she ate in Barcelona but she didn’t mind. Benjami started towards the kitchen to help when he snapped his fingers and turned to Alexia.

“Sorry… I forgot to mention the gifts in your bedroom.”

She tilted her head in question, though he didn’t answer, just giving her a soft smile instead as he moved towards the kitchen.

Alexia made her way to her bedroom, wondering what they’d bought her, or rather what Ridley had asked them to buy her. Was it because Blau had said she was lonely on the phone that day? Alexia’s heart had dropped at the honesty of it when she’d said it and Blau had immediately given her an apologetic smile. Alexia knew it was her way of telling her friend to be better.

She entered the room, and the first thing she saw was the easel. Her eyes followed it to the blank canvases, all different styles. Pencils. Paintbrushes and paint. Her favourite hobbies. Her heart skipped a beat. Ridley.

She took the note off of the easel and read it, her hand beginning to tremble.

Your first gift is to pass the time.

Your second gift is for company.

She was confused, wondering what the second gift was. Her eyes wandered the room and fell on her bed. She took a sharp breath in as she saw his little grey body curled up, fast asleep.

It was Chiquito.

[basil-the-bulbasaur]

What if they fell in love in a laundry mat like in Dr Horrible's Sing Along Blog

Also jimmy watchers thing yay

Close ups and period cramp version below cut

Now to put laundry mat drawing in the laundry room where they will probably stay for at most an hour until some jerk takes it :(