#i’m the one going to shows now and doing all of this but so much of it is for her

[dirtyvulture]

15 Minutes

Natasha Romanoff x Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 2430

Requested by abyss anon (and other anons): here me out. i've been listening to 15 minutes by sabrina carpenter and the lyrics “i can do a lot with fifteen minutes, only gonna take two to make you finish” is stuck in my head.

what if masc!r with innocent!shy!nat who is completely and utterly inlove with reader but too afraid to make a move? and when she finally does... *wink* but we all know baby natty is going to make up for it all night.

AN: This basically became pure filth with like a sprinkle of plot so...enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

The first time Natasha met you, she knew she was in love with you. Which really sucked for her because you were the type of person who didn’t look at her twice. You were constantly surrounded by people who were prettier, better, and more important than her. Natasha felt so insignificant around you, and whenever she tried to make her presence known, it always ended in a colossal and embarrassing failure.

She had exactly three conversations with you. The first was just an exchange of names, so she didn’t count that. But it was the first time she got to touch your hand and look into your eyes, and she almost physically fell for you right there.

The second conversation was at the dining hall’s salad bar, where the two of you had reached for the tongs to the romaine at the same time. You had insisted she go first, and Natasha had tried to make a joke about lettuce that fell so short it kept her up for three nights. 

The third conversation took place on a basketball court, where you were playing a scrimmage with a few friends. Natasha emboldened herself to approach, which she immediately regretted when you passed her the ball and asked if she could sink a shot from the three-point line. She stumbled through a pickup line about if you could show her, but you and your friends had only laughed. Naturally, she had missed, and she went home in shame, promising to never speak to you in front of others again.

She always told herself that if she had 15 minutes alone with you, she could get you to give her a chance. But getting those 15 minutes was an impossible task in itself.

Or so she thought.

She finds you sitting alone in the common room, staring at the television, but you hardly look interested in the James Bond movie playing.

Fifteen.

“Y/N?” Natasha whispers. Your head shifts in her direction, but you don’t say anything to acknowledge her. “Is anyone sitting with you?” You grunt, which Natasha cannot determine as a definitive yes or no. “Can I sit with you?” She holds her breath, surprised by her own confidence but fully expecting a denial.

“Sure,” you say, to her shock.

Natasha rounds the couch. You make no effort to move and she settles on the cushion next to you.

Fourteen.

She isn’t sure what to say next. You seem incredibly absorbed in the movie, and she’s nervous to break your focus.

“Natasha,” you say, still not looking at her. “That’s your name, right?”

“Yes.”

“It’s a pretty name. For a pretty woman.”

Natasha’s heart thunders in her chest. Did she hear you correctly? “You think I’m pretty?” she asks.

“I think you’re beautiful.” You look her in the eye now, and Natasha has to catch herself before she falls off the couch.

“I…Um…Wow. Thank you. That’s…really nice of you to say,” she stammers.

“I’m not just saying it. I mean it.”

Thirteen.

Natasha stares at you, trying to read your passive expression. Maybe you were just messing with her, or took a bet from your friends to flirt with her. No one–not even Bruce–wanted her. So why would you? 

“You’re especially cute when you’re nervous,” you say.

“Nervous? I’m not–”

You chuckle. “I know the effect I have on you. And most people. But I hardly notice any of them when you’re around me.”

Natasha feels like she’s in a dream. Are you really saying these words to her? And you mean every one of them? She pinches her thigh, but the sting doesn’t do much to clear her head. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you,” she admits in a rush.

“Is that so?” Your right eyebrow lifts and Natasha squeezes her thighs together subtly. “I never approached you first because…well, I didn’t think you’d be able to handle me.”

Twelve.

Natasha leans forward, resting her hand lightly on your upper thigh. She’s determined to prove you wrong if that’s the only thing she succeeds in tonight. “And what makes you think that?”

Your expression changes to one of surprise. “You’re cute, but way too innocent–” The words die in your throat when her hand slides up to cup the bulge in your sweatpants. 

“You were saying?” she says, turning her voice into a huskier tone. 

“Natasha,” you grunt, and she can tell you’re fighting to keep your hips pinned to the couch, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

“I don’t plan on it.” She grips onto you and wonders if the fabric is thin enough for you to feel the heat of your palm. 

“Someone can walk in at any moment,” you warn her.

“Good. Then they can see you’ve always been mine the whole time.” She feels you twitch and start to harden. She wonders if she can get you off with her words alone, but quickly decides she’d much rather have you inside her instead. 

Eleven.

“I didn’t take you for an exhibitionist,” you comment. 

“What do you know about me? Besides my name,” she counters.

“That you’re awful at flirting–oh shit.” Natasha pushes her hand past the waistband of your sweatpants and it closes around your hot and hard flesh. She rubs you up and down, her thumb brushing the underside of your tip with every stroke and she grins when she starts to see your thighs tremble. “You ever done this before?” you gasp, your hips rocking off the couch to push yourself through her hand. 

“You tell me, baby.” 

You grunt at the term of endearment. “Not quite what I expected from you,” you say. 

“In a good or bad way?”

“Hmm, well…” You look down at your crotch, frowning because you can’t see any of the action under your sweatpants. Natasha uses her free hand and tugs them down, and you lift your butt up to slide them to your knees. Your cock bobs out and Natasha subconsciously licks her lips, knowing she is that much closer to having you the way she always dreamed of. “Are you gonna keep staring at it or do something with it?” you ask suddenly.

Ten.

“I don’t want you finishing too early,” Natasha says, right as a bead of pre-cum leaks out of your dick.  

“I won’t,” you say, although for once, your voice lacks confidence.

“I bet you can’t last two minutes in me.”

Your eyes narrow at the challenge. “And what if I can?”

“Then I’ll let you take me back to your room and fuck me any way you want.”

You inhale sharply at the filthy thoughts her words inspire. 

“But if you can’t…” Natasha squeezes your cock for emphasis, “Then I get take you to my room and fuck you any way I want.”

You snort. “That’s not really a bad deal either way.”

“You’ve hardly seen what I can do,” Natasha warns.

“So show me more.”

Nine.

“Be careful what you wish for.” Natasha leans over and takes the head of your cock in her mouth.

“Goddamn,” you mutter, pumping your hips up into the new heat of her mouth. You had severely misjudged Natasha in her innocence, but you weren’t upset to be wrong. Her tongue flicks against your tip and you’re practically squirming in your seat when she presses down and takes you into her throat.  

“Fuck, your mouth feels good,” you pant, your hands coming to the back of Natasha’s head and gently pushing on it to keep her in place. “This is hardly fair,” you whine.

Natasha releases your cock and it slaps against your stomach, glistening with her saliva and your pre-cum. “You want me to stop?” she asks.

“Not really.”

Eight.

“Then be quiet,” she says, and her dominance surprises you. It also makes you even harder, which you didn’t know was possible at this stage anymore. “Besides, we aren’t even at the main event yet.”

“Main event?” You have to bite your lip to distract yourself as her mouth descends on you again. You squeeze the muscles in your thighs to keep them grounded, not wanting to show her how close you are. 

“Mhmm,” she mumbles around your cock, and the vibrations have you holding on the couch cushions for dear life. The pounding between your legs heightens, spurred on by the fact that the prettiest girl around has her head in your lap, her mouth bobbing frantically up and down your dick. 

Seven.

“You’re cheating,” you whine, but you totally love it as you jog your hips up a few times. 

“I’m what?” Natasha draws back fully and the cold air that hits your cock makes it visibly twitch. 

“Ugh, fuck,” you mutter. “Never mind, baby. Just put your mouth back and–”

“No,” Natasha says, and you shrink back into the cushions just a little. Maybe you should have kept your mouth shut like she said. “I can tell you’re about to cum, and I don’t want you finishing in my mouth.”

“Oh.” Somehow, despite every skill she’s just showed you, you’re surprised she won’t swallow. But you won’t hold it against her. She’s already doing better than most of the girls that sleep with you.

Six.

Natasha leans towards your face, her lips brushing your cheek on her way to your ear. “I want you to finish in my pussy,” she whispers, and the words alone nearly send you over the edge. 

“Oh.” You don’t even realize you’ve reached down to grip the base of your cock, squeezing hard to quite literally prevent yourself from finishing all over your sweatpants. 

“But…I don’t know if you can last that much longer,” Natasha says, pulling away from you. 

“Yes, yes, I can,” you plead. You would do everything in your power to please and if you couldn’t…what was really the worst that could happen? 

“Hmm.” Natasha tilts her head, as if seriously contemplating ending things with you right here.

Five.

“You started this,” you protest. “You can’t leave me hanging.” Literally.

“I didn’t expect you to be so whiny,” she says.

“I didn’t expect you to be this mean,” you counter.

Natasha chuckles. “And you’re the one who said I couldn’t handle you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, happy to eat your words if she’ll ride you. Natasha stands up, and for a moment you think she’s going to walk out on you, but she shimmies down her jeans and you drool at the sight of her lacey red panties. You drop your sweatpants to your ankles so you have more room to move as Natasha swings her leg over your waist.

Four.

You can see the damp patch of her arousal and it hardens you further to see she’s just as excited as you are. 

“Two minutes,” she says, humping you slowly. 

“Easy,” you promise, but you already know you’re going to lose. You reach for her hips, happy that she doesn’t swat you away, and pull her towards yourself until her stomach presses against your cock.

At first, you had been genuinely concerned that someone would walk in on the two of you, but now you couldn’t care less. You were about to get with the Natasha Romanoff, someone your friends had told you would be untouchable. 

Your hands wrap around to her butt and squeeze teasingly. “I’m ready for you,” you remind her, as if she forgot what she was supposed to be doing.

Three.

“I can see that.” She reaches down to grab your cock and drags it along the wet patch of her panties. You groan and dig your fingers harder into her butt. She was far more of a tease than you had ever imagined.

“Come on, baby,” you beg as your cock rubs against the smooth fabric of her panties.

Natasha pulls her panties to the side to reveal her glistening center. Your eyes widen and your hips jerk up to brush through her wetness. She puts one hand on her shoulder to steady herself and uses the other to finger herself. The slick noises she makes are downright sinful and you’re practically vibrating with excitement.

“Let me,” you say, eager to get any part of you inside her and trying to replace her fingers with your own. 

“I think I’m ready,” she says, lifting herself up high enough to position the head of your cock with her opening.

Two. 

Both of you inhale sharply at the first contact. You’re certain you’ve left your marks on Natasha’s butt as she slowly sinks down, taking your entire length in her molten heat.

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” you gasp as you feel yourself twitching inside of her. Natasha rests on your thighs and rocks back and forth. A moan rips out of your throat and your head falls back on the couch. The tightness surrounding your cock is too much. 

“Don’t let me down,” Natasha teases, raising a few inches and falling back down again. Her hand slips around your throat possessively, but even that isn’t enough to bring you back from the brink.

Your bodies move together in a calm rhythm that does not match the emotions racing inside of you. While part of you wants to jackhammer into her like an animal, part of you also wants this feeling to last as long as possible.

Which, to be perfectly honest, wasn’t going to be more than another minute. 

“Do I feel good?” Natasha whispers, threading her fingers in your hair and pulling your head back so you have to look her in the eye as she fucks you.

“You feel perfect,” you grunt, your lower body starting to shake, but you give up trying to fight it off.

One.

“You’re lasting longer than I thought,” she hums, clenching around you with the tightness of a vice and you arch your chest into her, slipping your hands under her shirt to clutch at the warmth of her skin.

“Not for much longer,” you admit, feeling a thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead. The band in your stomach finally snaps and your thighs lock in place as you spill your seed into her, but hardly feeling relieved. Natasha circles her hips to coax out every last drop, leaving you shaking and begging her to stop. 

“I think I won our bet,” she says, finally climbing off your cock. 

“Whatever,” you mutter, your cheeks tinged red. 

“I want to claim my prize now,” she continues, pulling her jeans back on and offering you her hand.

You don’t protest and go to follow her back to her room.

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AN: Thanks for ideas, anons! Hope you liked it. :)

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[tomsparkyr]

𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐘!

following episode one of 'inside' — george clarke x fem!reader

by any means i do not own 'inside' and all credit is theirs (!!)

wc: 6.4K

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You sat yourself down on the chair placed in the middle of the room, a soft blue and purple light flooding the area. You smiled at the camera in front of you, feeling a little bit nervous at the entire concept of the show; but nonetheless, you still agreed to contribute to it.

It was difficult not to tell your friends about the whole thing, sworn (and to a contract) that you weren’t allowed to tell them you were entering a home with no outside contact for 7 days; only allowed to tell them you were taking a social media break.

Your family knew, obviously. But unable to tell your fellow youtuber friends was tough, because it was so painfully obvious where you were going.

Having to lie to George, Chris and everyone else was awkward. They had arranged plans for the next week and you had to reluctantly say no, because of course, you would much rather be stuck in a home with people you don’t know and then spending money that could potentially be yours.

Clearing your throat, you introduced yourself.

”Hello, my name is Y/N, I’m 24 and I’m a youtuber slash content creator!” You grinned expectantly at the camera.

Continuing, “Most of my content is just… me and my friends getting drunk and filming it because we think we’re funny!” You answered honestly, thinking back on the many times you got too drunk filming pub golf videos that George had to give you a piggy-back on the walk home.

The camera crew asked you how well you think you’re going to do in the challenge,

“I’d like to think I’ll do well, honestly!” You laughed.

”I spend money but I don’t spend so much at a time; like I could go weeks without buying something, then suddenly I’m a couple hundred quid down within a week?”

You continued, “I think I can go without my phone for a week; I’d like to think I’m not that addicted.” You laughed and cringed slightly.

”If anything I think I’ll miss my friends more than anything. I’m sure I’ll love the people there but it’s meeting new faces, I’d just love to walk in there now and see someone I know— My dog! That’s it, I’ll miss my dog this most!” You interrupted yourself, losing your train of thought.

The camera crew laughed at you and pushed the interest about your dog back home, “I just hope she’s being looked after. I’ve left her with George for the week so I think she’ll live?” You laughed nervously.

Upon this, the camera crew behind the device smirked and tilted their heads downwards so you couldn’t see their face. A couple of them turned around and subtly nudged each other.

It was at this point that the crew said that your interview was over and that it was time to enter the place you’ll be living in for the next week.

You nervously picked up your suitcase, clinging onto your comfort pillow in your right arm and hugging it tight to your chest. You couldn’t remember if you could take this into the house but taking no risks, you took it anyway.

You entered a white room with zero life in it; a metal detector gate stood in the centre of the room and a hole to put your luggage in.

”Oh, God.” You muttered under your breath as you realised there was no turning back now.

You paused for a second and scanned the area before realising it was just you in here, “Oh, I’m by myself… that’s embarrassing.” You laughed at yourself, knowing your friends at home were going to be making fun of you when this aired.

Walking through the metal detector, you lugged your suitcase behind you and only just recognised that you might have overpacked for a place that would not utilise your items in absolutely any way.

After putting your suitcase on the conveyor, you walked through to the main area in which you could hear some voices, none of which you could distinguish.

Walking through the empty hallway, you called out “Hello?”

Upon saying this, two heads poked out and their eyes widened at the sight of you.

The girl ran over to you and embraced you into a hug and introduced herself, “Hey, I’m Mya!” She smiled at you as you responded; she was happy there was another girl in the house with her already.

Meanwhile, the man who had seen you first turned his attention to the other male in the house as you and Mya embraced; “Yo, George, isn’t that your girlfriend?”

George furrowed his brows, a bit taken aback “My what?” He laughed a bit as his feet took him towards the hallway to peek at the new arrival; who was supposedly his girlfriend?

Pulling back from Mya’s hug, you made direct eye-contact with George, your best friend, standing a couple feet away from you. “What the fuck?” You shouted and broke out into a sprint towards him, him already on route to you.

”No way!” He shouted back and caught your figure into a tight hug, his arms wrapped comfortably around your waist and lifted you off the ground slightly as he buried his face into your neck amidst the hug.

You slung your arms around his broad shoulders and fell into the all too familiar embrace, catching his scent and subtly running your hands through the hair on the back of his head.

”Why didn’t you tell me you were coming in here?” He chuckled, his voice muffled as his head was tucked into your neck; he had settled you down onto the floor now but didn’t falter his grip by any means.

You laughed back at him, pulling your head away so you could maintain eye-contact with him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” You retorted jokingly.

PK looked confused, “So they are boyfriend and girlfriend then?” Mya laughed at him, knowing the extent that you and George got shipped on Tiktok, the occasional edit finding itself on everyone’s for you page.

You and George turned back to look at PK,“No, no! George is my best friend!” You smiled at him, still in disbelief that George was actually here; “Half my videos are just with her.” George finished for you.

PK tilted his head, pointing between you two in which at the time you realised George’s hands were still resting on your waist while yours were cradling the back of his neck.

Confused (still), PK shook his head and waved his hand in dismissal, completely convinced that he was looking at a couple in front of him.

As more people entered one by one, you and George dispersed from the group, his arm slung around your shoulders and keeping you against him the entire time.

You shook your head and looked up at him with a smile, “What are you even doing here?”

George smiled down at you as you settled themselves down on the sofa in the living room.

“Dunno, the Sidemen like me so I thought, why not?” He laughed at himself, you scooted closer to him as he picked up a cushion to set it down on yours and his lap.

He nudged you, “What about you, you little minx, how did you keep that a secret from me?”

You smirked and fiddled with the loose threads on the cushion.

”I didn’t tell anyone!” You admitted, “Not you, not Chris, not Arthur; I told no one! Not even— Wait…” You trailed off, eyes widening.

”George, who’s looking after my dog?” You said, fear flooding your features.

George laughed and threw his head back, a hand rubbing up and down your shoulder as you persisted on the whereabouts of your dog.

”She’s living with Chris and Arthur for the week.” He reassured you, an obvious relief washing over you as your shoulders fell from a hunched position.

In your own little world, you and George nattered away to each other, updating him on everything he’s missed and completely ignorant to the new members joining the house; because you were all too consumed with each other.

George just knew at that moment that when this aired, Chris was going to rip into the way he was staring at his ‘best friend’.

A shouting voice tore you out of your George-infused daze as it was directed at you two, “Wait, you’re that couple that’s always edited on my for you page?”

The blonde girl next to her snapped her head around to the pair of you sitting with George’s arm still around you, her eyes widening, “Holy shit! I love you two!”

George’s cheeks suddenly were painted a pink colour and you sported a flushed face. An awkward laugh bubbled from your chest, “What?”

Upon seeing your awkward faces and red creeping up your necks, the blonde girl covered her mouth and apologised, “Oh fuck! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

You stood up and left George’s touch, walking over to the girl with a comforting smile on your face.

“Don’t worry! Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N.” You said as you raised your arms out for a hug.

She met you halfway as she responded,“Ugh, you’re gorgeous. I’m Milli.” She smiled sweetly at you, peering over her shoulder to see the other girl still gawking at you.

The louder one strutted over and immediately pulled you into a hug, “I’m Farah, who is sorry about—“ “Oh, God. Don’t even worry about it!” You reassured the girl, finding it quite amusing that you and George had crept your ways onto other people’s for you page.

time skip!

The bedroom situation was the next challenge.

After introducing yourself to everyone (they acted as if they didn’t know who you were, but they had all seen the George x Y/N edits) you all made your way over to the bedrooms, some even breaking out into a sprint.

A couple people jumped onto their beds, claiming it as their own. There were two double beds and the rest were singles, but because there were only 10 people at the time, sharing a double bed wouldn’t be an issue at the moment.

George leaped onto one bed and said sarcastically, “Oh my God, guys, stop fighting over my bed!” You laughed at him and slowly sat down on the one remaining bed next to his.

You crawled onto your bed after readjusting the pillows against the headboard so you could sit up comfortably, leaning back and allowing your eyes to close momentarily.

It wasn’t until you felt a nudge on your shin that you opened your eyes and saw a George Clarke resting on his stomach, a pillow squished between his chest and the bed, his beaming smile staring at you.

You tilted your head at him and smiled softly, lightly kicking your foot back at him as his hand lingered on your leg; the rest of the room became a blur as he kept looking at you.

Sending a quick wink your way, he hoisted himself up off the bed and gestured a hand out to you. You took it as he helped you onto your feet, so the group could walk back into the living room per producers request.

The group all positioned themselves on the couch, George settling down on the end as you squeezed between him and Mandi. With little spare room on the couch, George carefully lifted your leg so it was led over his thigh and his hand rested comfortably on your knee. Opposite you, Whitney grinned at the action.

George was fiddling with his bottle as the group conversed, “So, Y/N what do you do?” Cinna asked you.

Hearing your name, you perked up. “I mainly do YouTube videos with this weirdo here.” You pointed a thumb George’s way.

The group laughed at you and took careful notice at your closeness with George. “And George, what do you do?” She continued.

George tilted his head, “I started on TikTok.” He trailed off as Whitney butted in. “Do you talk on TikTok?”

“Yeah.” George responded. Whitney persisted, “Why not in real life?” You furrowed your brows at this. George, oblivious to her, said “Should I stop?” as he pointed at himself jokingly.

“But you don’t talk in real life! I’m like “George…” Whitney said. She was then interrupted by the Sidemen walking in, smug smirks tugging on their face.

You and George smiled at the familiar faces, previously being in Sidemen videos in the past. You took notice that George’s mood had picked up more now he knew more than one person, becoming more comfortable in the odd place he was confined in.

JJ began for the group, “Welcome to the new series of Inside!” 

The group whooped and cheered at this. Everyone was excited at the prospect of winning a million pounds.

The Sidemen began listing off the rules and concept of Inside, everyone nodding along and the occasional verbal reaction. 

Harry pointed at you and the group, “You’ll be glad to know, the shop is now open!” You and Farah made eye-contact and started jumping up to run to the shop as a joke, the group laughing at the pair of you.

JJ said one last thing before everyone bid their goodbyes to the Sidemen, “Good luck, motherfuckers!”

You all clapped and half heartedly cheered, more nervous than excited at this rate because the money you could win was in the hands of everyone else.

Farah quickly asked as they were leaving, “Wait, can I ask? When is the first challenge?”

“Shut up.”

time skip!

The group all discussed that you wanted to keep the prize money at least 800K, agreeing with a ‘hands in the middle’ before you all jogged down to the shop.

As you entered, half the group were already in there and complaining about the lack of choices they could purchase, Milli however wasn’t upset about the prices at this point.

You and George lurked at the back, shoulder to shoulder and laughed at Mandi as she stood up to the camera asking about the whereabouts of her vodka.

As a quarter of the group decided on food and drinks as the first purchase before you butted in with a suggestion, “Wait, surely we should get some entertainment first, just so we don’t all want to die on the first day?”

George, Dylan and Milli pointed at you, nodding and verbalising their agreement. Milli grabbed your upper arm and took you both to the camera to confirm your order.

“I’ll say table tennis bat and you’ll say table tennis ball, right?” You asked her, she smiled as you both poked your head up to the camera and held your microphone to your mouth.

“Can I confirm the table tennis bat,” “And the table tennis ball, please?” You and Milli spoke, giggling at each other after as you made eye-contact.

You distanced yourself from the group and they began talking louder and speaking over each other, finding yourself settled next to George who had barely spoken outside of you since being in here.

Looking at the list of items, you nudged George, “What the fuck is a ‘golden straw’?” You laughed and furrowed your brows.

You saw his eyes scan the list and chuckle at the item considering its price, “That’s actually a stupid price.” He thought out loud.

“I swear if anyone buys that shit…” You closed your eyes and shook your head, sneaking your arms around him so you could link arms.

The door suddenly opened to reveal the items you and Milli had bought. She turned around and called your name to come over to her. You walked over and tugged George close along behind you.

You saw Milli’s shoulder drop and she leaned down to pick the item up, “What?” You questioned. She turned around and lifted up the one tennis bat.

“No!” You gasped and tightened your grip on George’s arm. “Is it one?” He asked, dreading the worst after your reaction.

“It’s one!” Milli confirmed your suspicions. You groaned, cursing out the Sidemen as everyone around out kept bickering. You watched as Dylan walked back to the camera.

“I’m confirming that you did scam us with that one, I’m not going to lie. So we are ordering one more bat.” He purchased the other bat.

You turned around to face George, smiling up at him as his figure towered over you. “I’m gonna kick your ass at table tennis.” You promised to him and yourself. Laughing at you, he drifted his hands down to rest on your hips, “Best out of three; guaranteed I’m gonna win all three.” He replied smuggly, looking down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Not bothering to listen to everyone talk about eating arrangements, you yanked George’s arm and the pair of you ran back to the living room, table tennis bats in hands and laughing in joy. Even in a confined house with 10 other people, you found George attached to you as if it was only the pair of you; no one else mattered except for him.

George walked around the table, shoving you lightly before the game started in an attempt to throw you off. You cleared your throat, “This is a practice round, no cheating and no foul play!”

“You’re only saying it’s a practice round so you’re not embarrassed when I kick your ass.” George winked at you and threw the table tennis ball down onto the table.

You heard a playful gag next to you, “Ew, guys stop flirting!” Cinna stated sarcastically. You and George only laughed and began playing against each other.

George played against you for a couple rounds, the game going back and forth a handful of times. Eventually, after a good 15 minutes, you beat George in a tight game. George only shrugged and walked backwards to sit on the couch, leaning his body back and relaxing for the first time since walking in here.

You tilted your head and called Dylan up to play against you, still high on adrenaline. “Dylan, come play the reigning champion!”

Hearing this, George’s head popped up with furrowed brows. “What? I thought you said it was a practice round?” He asked in mock offence.

You shrugged, “Yeah it was… until I beat you.” George suppressed a laugh into a groan and rolled his head back as you shot him a sickeningly sweet smile; knowing he had been caught out by you once again (not that he did anything to stop it).

interview room!

“I mean, I think I’ve started off decently. Barely spent money so far, but I haven’t been down there since I got the table tennis stuff.”

“I mean, I don’t really care about winning now that I’ve beaten George in table tennis! I’ve known him for years, played against him thousands of times and now suddenly hours into my new home for the week and straight off the bat I’ve already taken the win”

“My main concern right now is that I’m so hungry. And I know the meals are gonna be shit, but honestly, I could take anything right now!”

After gossiping about the whole pot noodle fiasco, an alert came up on the screen: ‘Lunch is now ready to collect from the shop’.

“Oh, thank God.” You groaned, feeling the effects of a constant rumbling stomach taking a toll on you. George, who was sitting opposite you looked puzzled and partially offended, “You’re taking the piss. Lunch?”

Leading the pack down to the shop, you skipped down to the final step and came face to face with an open trap door and met some… unpleasant food. Picking up two of the pots, you inspected the food.

George creeped in behind you and peered over your shoulder. Upon seeing his presence, you passed him his meal and stiffled a laugh at his scrunched up nose and face of disgust.

Grabbing a spoon, you opened the pot and attempted not to be put off it immediately. You watched Mandi verbally express her utter hatred towards the food; placing a hand on her shoulder, you urged her to try a bit before she opted out. “Hey, Mandi. Just try a little before--”

“Can I confirm an upgrade, please?” You sighed as she ignored you. Feeling awkward now, George wrapped his arm around its usual spot on your shoulder and tugged you against him, whispering in your ear not to worry about it; unbeknownst that the cameras can see and hear everything.

The pair of you walked away from the chaos of buying upgrades, chatting to each other and sitting back down onto the couch.

Cinna watched you and walked up to you, “Come with me to get the rest?” She urged, knowing many people had left scraps of food down in the shop and was aware of your hunger earlier on.

You smiled at her and left George’s touch, him frowning slightly. You followed side by side with Cinna, strutting into the shop and splitting the weight of the spare food between the two of you.

As you began walking away, you spotted something shiny left in the shop.

“No fucking way.” You murmered, now having personal issues with this goddamned straw. Cinna turned around at your words, eyes widening and walking over to pick up the straw.

“Is there a golden straw in there? Did they leave it?” She questioned no one in particular.

You threw the straw a rude face, “That shit cost fucking £2,500?” You shook your head, already having some suspects on who bought it.

Snatching the straw off her, you stormed ahead to the living room to ask some very needed questions; Cinna laughing at you as she trailed behind, finding your beef with the straw hilarious.

“Who bought this?” You spoke loudly as you entered the room, watching George on the beanbag throw his head back in mock frustration, murmuring some swear words in the wake.

Cinna walked in and made a bee-line for Mandi, “It was you, wasn’t it?” Mandi’s lack of an answer told you the whole story.

Passing the straw to Mandi, you felt a hand brush yourself and looked down to George playing with your fingers as he remained seated, his eyes watching the conversations rather than you. You suppressed a smile at this and tried to fight back a blush from creeping onto your face.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as the voice of Tobi rang around the house, “It’s time for your first challenge.”

time skip!

Finally, it was you and George remaining; neither of you had been selected to compete in Insider Dating (a part of you felt like they set you two up on purpose, but by no means were you complaining).

“And lastly… George? Y/N?” Simon smirked, holding his card close to his chest.

The group whooped and cheered as the pair of you stood up, even JJ was jeering you on. Tobi leaned in to whisper something in his ear, and JJ let out his gawking laugh in response. You groaned, fully aware it was something revolving between you and George.

George sat down opposite you, a worried grin painted on his face as you sucked in a deep breath, picking up the menu in front of you.

“For not the first restaurant date for these two,” Simon started, smirking as he watched both of your faces grow a shade darker and keeping your heads down low. Some of the other contestants let out a wolf-whistle and slammed the table as they laughed at Simon’s joke. “On the menu for you two is Shocking Questions.”

As you inspected the menu more, confused on what was happening, George had already figured it out. He looked at the Sidemen for confirmation and said, “Oh.” You looked up at him, hoping he wouldn’t see your blush. “What’s that?”

“We’ll be getting shocked.” He said with a lack of enthusiasm. You closed your eyes and sighed, nervous about both the questions and being shocked; but remaining determined that you wouldn’t press the red buzzer.

Simon started, “Okay, George. You’ll be answering the questions first, so, Y/N, please ask the first question.”

You took a deep breath, inspecting the question before looking up at George and asking him, “What is your worst online dating experience?”

Unsure when to start, George looked around him and then at the camera, “Okay, um…”

He placed his hands on the table in front of him, “I matched with somebody on--” He cut himself off as an electric jolt sent his body forwards as he groaned in pain. You covered your mouth in shock and offered a hand out on the table for him to grip onto for comfort.

Taking your hand very quickly he continued, “That’s a lot of power. Um. I matched with somebody on Hinge, and I was speaking to them for about two days. Voice notes back and forth, it was fun. And then--”

Another jolt came through and he squeezed your hand hard, cursing out in the meantime, “Oh, God! I’m sorry, Y/N!” You shook your head and reassured him, “No, no! Keep going, you’re doing great!” The contestants laughed at you as you attempted to comfort George as more jolts came through.

“Fucking hell. Um, then I tried to meet up with them, but it turns out they weren’t real. I was there for an hour and a half.” You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his story, focusing on him and keeping eye-contact with him to try and urge him through this. Also thinking at the same time, if his questions were bad, think of the masacre for you.

“I came back home, reverse Google Image searched them--” George’s body locking up in pain from the electric, “And they weren’t real. Fucking hell, that’s a lot!” He groaned, still squeezing your hand across the table.

Simon urged you to ask the next question, “Could we please have the second question?”

Your eyes widened at the question and George felt more jolts come through, “Oh, my God, please, can we make it a quick one?” He begged, playing with your fingers and cracking your knuckles as a way to distract himself from the pain. “Oh, my God. That was actually quite bad.”

You began starting the next question, interrupted by George burying his head into his bicep and groaning out, “Fuck!”

“If you had to snog, marry and avoid three Insiders, who and why?” You stared into his eyes as a faint pink sprinkled his cheeks; you couldn’t decipher whether that was out of pain or embarrassment of the question.

George pulled a shocked yet puzzled face, “I don’t fucking know!” 

PK from the side shouted out, “Yes, you fucking do!” while pointing your way; you were unable to see this as your eyes were trained on George in front of you.

“Both genders?” George joked to try and diffuse the situation, making the Sidemen laugh as jolts of electricity came through more frequently and painfully.

George shook his head and gestured towards you, “Snog you, avoid Farah,” He turned around to face her and sent an apologetic look her way, “Sorry, you’re quite loud!” The rest of the group laughed as he turned back to you, “And marry Y/N!”

The group, including the Sidemen all screamed and pointed accusing fingers at George, while you sat with a mouth open and a surely bright red face by now. “You said Y/N twice!” Simon raised his brows and shouted at the man. “You can’t pick the same person twice!” JJ laughed.

George’s eyes widened as he realised what he did, “Shit! I meant marry Y/N, snog Y/N-- Shit!” He cursed as another jolt came through and stumbled over his words, “Fuck! No! Snog Mya!”

Everyone, including you laughed at him as Simon now approved the answer, and George’s grip on your hand faltered and he hid his face on the table, embarrassed beyond belief.

Some of the girls awed at his answer as the chaos had only just settled down, the focus turning on to you (as if it wasn’t already).

You rolled your head back in an attempt to release some nerves but failed to do so. You swallowed hard and looked in front of you to see George, now sat upright, staring at you with something in his eyes that you couldn’t decipher.

Looking down at the table, you saw George’s extended hand open for you, “Tit for tat?” He tilted his head, smiling at you as you accepted it, your palm brushing his. He took a deep breath as his heart jumped a little bit at the intimate moment shared in front of everyone and dozens of cameras.

Simon perked up again, “George, could you please ask the first question?” 

George looked down at the question sheet, eyes widening at the second question in particular, but chose to tackle that situation when he got there.

“Y/N,” You were waiting for the first shock but it hasn't come yet, “Why did you break up with your last boyfriend?” George asked.

Your mouth dropped open in shock, “Oh, God. Alright, so basically--” You screamed as the first shock came through and your body jolted forward in a much similar fashion as George’s previously had. You gripped his hand hard, feeling bad that you could potentially be hurting him in the process.

“You’ve got it, you’ve got it.” George encouraged you, a soft smile etched across his face.

“Shit! Okay--” Another shock going up your spine, painful but quick, “He said I was in-- Fuck!” More and more shocks came through. You understood you would have to rush this answer because there was no way you could get through it at this rate.

“He said I was in love with someone else apparently, so he-- Shitting Hell!” You gripped George’s hand. “So he cheated on me and I snitched on him to his mother!” You blurted out, hearing the loud laughter from the contestants and the Sidemen around you, even George was trying and failing to suppress a laugh.

JJ’s laugh stood out from everyone elses, “Damn Y/N! We’ll take that. George, next question?”

George’s smile fell slightly, “Right, Y/N…” Your body jolted forward in pain, “Shit! George, I love you but please hurry up!” The group laughed at your reaction.

“Okay! Okay! Y/N explain the story of your first kiss.” His voice faltered towards the end, heart thumping in his chest as your face paled.

Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly, “No! No! I can’t say that!” Tobi butted in, “Answer or lose 10K!”

A horrendous jolt of electricity went through your body and your hand held George’s while the other bunched up the cloth of the table as you squeezed it.

“Tell us, Y/N!” You heard other contestants shout at you. Milli shouted, “Come on, Y/N! You can do it!”

You tossed your head back, “Fuck! Okay! So basically, we were younger and neither of us-- Shit!” 

“Neither of us had had our first kiss yet, so we--” You groaned, head now falling forwards as your hair covered your face slightly. George leaned over and brushed it away, tucking it behind your ears. 

“Push the button, Y/N!” JJ urged. “Fuck off!” You screamed back, some of the group crying with laughter and standing up in doing so.

“We played odds on that we had to kiss right then and there! That’s it! Please turn this fucking thing off!” You begged, feeling sweat drip from your forehead now.

However, Simon decided to alter the rules of the game.

“Y/N, we’re not accepting that until you tell us who it was with.”

Your eyes bulged out of their head as the screaming around you ensured, George falling unusually quiet compared to everyone else as his gaze remained locked on you.

“What the fuck? That’s not-- Oh, God!” You groaned, “That’s not fair!”

JJ and Tobi just laughed, “Just tell us!”

You shook your head rapidly, “No fucking way!”

“Say it!” They screamed.

“No!” You responded with the same energy.

“You’re not leaving until you tell--”

“George!”

Everyone around you jumped up in shock and amusement, smacking the table laughing and pointing fingers at you and George.

George’s mouth also dropped open in shock as he didn’t think you would actually admit to it, blush coating his neck and cheeks as everyone was looking at you two and that you had exposed your deepest secret.

Your body relaxed as the shocks stopped but you didn’t necessarily win; sure, not losing 10K is great, but now on day one of your new home, everyone would talk about you and George, definitely not helping your case that you’re not dating.

Simon removed his hand from covering his mouth in shock, “Well… I guess you passed.” He didn’t know what to say, no one did really; everyone was just screaming incoherent words in disbelief of this entire situation.

You had never wanted to hear the words of Tobi more in your entire life, “Insiders, you have completed your first challenge of the series.”

time skip!

After a long first day, you had settled yourself down onto the couch in the living room. Led down, you sported George’s hoodie as he found himself back at the table tennis court; this time battling against PK. Blocking everyone out, you drift off for your much needed nap.

As George played against PK, the new contestant DDG had some questions.

“I didn’t know the Sidemen let couples on here.” He thought out loud, catching everyone in the room's attention. They looked at him with tilted heads. “Who’s the couple?” Cinna asked.

DDG pointed a thumb in your direction as you laid unconscious on the couch, “That’s your girl, right?” He nodded towards George.

George chuckled and looked down, “Yeah, George. How’s your girl?” PK teased.

Shaking his head, George served the tennis ball nonchalantly, “She’s just my friend.” He didn’t know who he was trying to prove, himself or those around him.

Dylan butted in, “Oh yeah, I just kiss my best friends every now and then.”

Without looking at them, George continued, “Ah! I was her first kiss, that doesn’t mean we just kiss every now and then.”

“Bet you’d like that, huh?” PK laughed. In mock retaliation, George served a harsh ball his way, the mini group laughing at him.

DDG looked between you on the couch and George standing to his right, “Hold up… you’re not dating her?” George shook his head.

He raised his brows, “For real, man?”

George slowly nodded, “For real.” He sounded partially disappointed but masked it as he continued playing table tennis.

time skip!

You found yourself standing in the shop alone, inspecting the items as you were yet to purchase anything for yourself, excluding the singular tennis bat earlier. You heard someone creeping up behind you.

“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” George whispered from beind you, crouching down slightly so he could reach your height. You leaned back into him and his hands wrapped around your waist.

“Why the fuck do I want that jiggly ball so bad?” You thought out loud. George responded with a loud gawking laugh, stumbling back a bit and bringing you with him.

You turned around and slapped his chest, “No, George! It’s not funny! Why does every part of me need that jiggly ball?”

He looked down at you with a suggestive eyebrow raise, your face fell as you understood what he was insinuating. “Oh, shut up!”

Laughing, you held his hand and walked out of the shop together. You settled on the couch again after your nap, reintroducing yourself Patrice as the last time you saw him was when you were half-asleep.

A couple of minutes later, you heard your name being whispered at the door. Standing up, you followed the noise and was met with George suppressing a wild grin and something stuffed up his shirt. “Oh, God. What did you do?” You smiled.

George leaned down and dragged the pair of you into the corner of the room, “I might have suggested that Farah get something for you.” Your eyes sparkled in excitement.

“No, you didn’t…” You mumbled. 

It was then that George whipped out the bright purple and blue jiggly ball from underneath his shirt, handing it to you and bouncing it between his hands in the process, giggling in excitement. “Oh, my God!” You squealed.

You took the ball from him and played with it for a moment before looking up to see George already staring at you. You shook your head, smiling at him, “Thank you!” 

You pulled him into a crushing hug, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground, swaying the pair of you back and forth slightly. He placed you back down as you seperated from the hug, hands remaining on your waist as you stared at each other, not breaking eye-contact. 

Neither of you said anything to each other, but your eyes said so much more. The hand that wasn’t holding the ball reached up to his face and urged him to tilt his head to the side, before you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Pulling away from your peck, you smiled at him and backed away slightly. You tossed the ball so it hit his forehead lightly and bounced back into your hands, “I’ll see you later.” You bit your lip to keep your smile from growing.

Walking away, you didn’t notice that George watched you as you went; a hand pressed up against his cheek where you had kissed him, only hoping it was closer to his lips.

As bedtime rolled around, you situated yourself in your bed next to George’s. You rested on the side facing him, finding him doing the same and could recognise his beaming smile even in the darkness.

You rolled onto your back, staring up at the ceiling as the tiredness took a toll on you. You let your hand flop off the side of your bed, not thinking too much of it.

Then, you felt a soft brush against your hand and looked down at it, seeing George’s hand lacing his fingers with yours as his hand was stretched off his own bed. Leaning off the side of his bed, George pressed a soft kiss onto the back of your hand, signaling a sweet ‘goodnight’ to you before the pair of you dozed off.

Maybe this weird, confined lifestyle where everything was overpriced and challenges determined your mood for that day wasn’t too bad. But maybe, it was rather the person holding your hand that could help you tolerate this.

taglist (ps love u all):

@sidemenslver @wherethezoes-at @multifanxtvshows @bibissparkles @le-le-lea @tiamonetsworld @dopeysunflowers @viagracex @rebeccaw05-blog @sundarksposts @sabbrriiinnaa @lovingaphroditesworld @evisceratedmuke @youtubewag @happyclifford @liz140569 @addiemb8332 @isabellem2909 @madforgeorge @pookietv @iammyownselfdestruction @marijas-stuff @maggie-readss @bambidollstar @lottiewills @hollie911

[loverofwomenswrongs]

DON'T ACT SO SURPRISED

****** Pairing: Billie Eilish x fem!reader Words: 1.1K

******

The arena buzzed with excitement as fans filled the stands. Y/n, arriving late, knew there was no chance Billie would spot her by mistake—after all, her girlfriend was notoriously observant, especially when it came to her. She had sent a message pretending to be back in LA, knowing that, under normal circumstances, Billie wouldn't call before the show due to the time difference. 

Just before the opening act, a staff member stepped on stage, catching the attention of the fans who looked around, confused. This wasn’t part of the usual show. The staff member spoke into the mic, “Hey, Melbourne! I know you're probably wondering what's going on right now, but I’m here on behalf of Billie’s team.” Whispers rippled through the crowd, some curious, others concerned. What was happening? Had something gone wrong?

“It’s nothing bad, we just need to ask you a favour. There’s a surprise for Billie at the end of the show, and we’d like you to please refrain from screaming or acknowledging it when you see it. We want her to be completely surprised, so just keep enjoying the show until she notices it, alright? We know you can do it,” the staff member continued.

With that, they exited the stage, leaving the fans buzzing with excitement, knowing that tonight’s show would be unlike any other.

Billie’s team had been careful to ensure she wouldn’t overhear anything backstage. Music blasted loudly as she was kept busy, and they had told her to head to the furthest room for her makeup, claiming it had better lighting. Billie, eager to perform, didn’t seem to notice how strange her team was acting.

As soon as Billie hit the stage, Y/n received a text from Finneas: You can come now. Thank goodness she had booked a hotel near the stadium. A tinted van picked her up, and within ten minutes, she arrived at the venue, greeted by warm hugs and smiles from Billie’s team.

She dropped her things in Billie’s room and quickly grabbed one of the singer’s hoodies to throw on. A member of the sound team helped her get her in-ears ready, and to blend in with the staff, she slipped on a security jacket, pulled a scarf over her face, and topped it off with a hat, hoping to avoid being recognized by fans.

She waited backstage, heart pounding as Happier Than Ever started to play. A real security guard came to escort her to the stage. Y/n moved forward, trying to keep her focus away from Billie, so she wouldn't feel her gaze. The nervous thumping of her heart was so loud, she could hear it over the music.

The guard led her under the stage as the song played on. Once safely out of view, Y/n quickly changed into her stage costume, letting out a sigh of relief. No one had noticed her, or if they had, they were good fans who kept the surprise under wraps.

The moment she had been waiting for arrived when she heard Billie’s voice introducing the last song of the night.

“Wow, Melbourne, you’ve been amazing! I’m so sad it’s ending. These past few weeks in Australia have made me so happy,” Billie said, her voice full of emotion.

The crowd erupted, and Y/n couldn’t help but smile. It had been so long since she’d seen Billie this content. Every time they talked about her time in Australia, there was a relaxed glow on her face.

“Thank you so much. Honestly. This last song is one of my favorites because I wrote it thinking about the most beautiful person I know—someone I miss so much. Y/n, bubs, I know you’re watching... I love you so much.”

Y/n felt a tear slide down her cheek as the crowd went wild. While their relationship wasn’t exactly a secret—fans often saw them posting about each other or attending events together—they kept much of their private lives just that: private. Still, their fans adored them, always respecting their boundaries.

“Now, I want to call my brother, Finneas, to the stage to help me with this last song. Here’s Birds of a Feather—I hope you enjoy it.”

The song began, with Finneas playing guitar, expertly distracting Billie as Y/n made her way onto the stage.

I want you to stay  'Til I'm in the grave   'Til I rot away, dead and buried   'Til I'm in the casket, you carry

As the lyrics filled the air, Y/n climbed the stairs, mic in hand. When she stepped onto the stage, gasps rippled through the crowd. Her voice joined Billie’s, and the singer glanced at her brother, confused. Finneas simply nodded toward Y/n, who was still singing.

Billie turned, almost dropping her microphone in shock as she saw her girlfriend. Her mouth fell open, eyes impossibly wide. Y/n laughed at the reaction, pausing to lean into the mic with a quiet, “Hi.”

The crowd went wild as Billie shook her head, still stunned. Without hesitation, the two girls embraced in a tight hug, the audience cheering them on. Billie spun Y/n around, holding her close as they shared the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, Billie’s hand cupped Y/n’s face, her expression one of disbelief. Y/n read her lips as Billie whispered, “How?”

Y/n smiled and whispered back, “Later,” pointing to Finneas, who wore a soft, proud smile. Billie turned and embraced her brother, silently thanking him.

Y/n took the opportunity to speak to the crowd. “Hey, Melbourne! How’s everyone doing? I just want to thank you all for keeping this secret with me. You were incredible!”

Billie, still laughing, added over the loudspeakers, “Wait… you all knew and didn’t tell me? I feel betrayed by my own fans!”

The crowd erupted in laughter.

“Don’t be mad at them, it was my doing,” Y/n replied, reaching for Billie’s hand.

Billie smirked. “Alright… So, shall we give them our song?”

Y/n nodded, placing a kiss on top of Billie’s head and exchanging a glance with Finneas, signaling they were ready to go.

As the song played on, the girls made an effort to interact with the crowd, sharing looks and smiles throughout. Billie often found herself admiring how easily Y/n moved across the stage, despite not being a singer herself. Meanwhile, Y/n couldn’t stop gazing at Billie, sending her playful winks whenever she could.

By the time the final notes of the song played, the two girls met center stage, singing the last lyrics to each other. For a brief moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

I knew you in another life   You had that same look in your eyes   I love you, don’t act so surprised

When the final chord struck, they melted into a tight hug. Billie pressed against Y/n’s chest, inhaling the scent she’d missed so much. The two pulled apart, their foreheads resting together, beaming with happiness. Y/n locked eyes with Billie as she mouthed, “I love you.”

******

Part 2

[chrrific]

IN TOO DEEP ✶ bad boy down bad.

経緯 ─── 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗂’𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖺 bad girl, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂’𝖽 𝖽𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

﹙엔하이픈﹚badboy!enhypen x f!r 936wc fluff romance est.rel 경고 kissing teasing cockiness flirting nicknames ( CHERCHER )

✉️ niki’s was my favourite to write ugh (my man frfr) i tried out a new layout, so tell me how you like it! it was very slightly based off of @okwonyo & @boyfhee ‘s layouts, but not much. yet, i still wanted to give credits ! happy reading ><

ꢾ꣒ REBLOGS & FEEDBACKS click please

HEESEUNG the rev of a motorcycle outside your house caught your attention, and you could just tell who it was without a second thought. it was like heeseung had made it his life’s mission to torment you throughout the week, every hour of the day. texts, calls, and constantly showing up at your house at all given times; just like right now. peeking your head out your bedroom window, you shot as fiery of a glare you could muster at the boy, and he laughed. “what do you want, heeseung?” you snapped, patience teetering on the edge that would give way to frustration. then, without even the slightest bit of hesitation, he responded. “you.”

JAY the bell of the coffee shop rang as jay walked in, signalling his presence. he approached the counter, only to be met with you— he hadn’t met you before, and that’s surprising, considering how he knew every girl on campus. “what would you like today?” you monotonously asked, as if you had said this so many times you might consider spontaneously combusting on the spot if you had to do it one more time. “well, aren’t you the delight?” he mused, grin taking over his sharp, angled features, that made your knees go slightly weak behind the counter. “anyway, i’d like an espresso, please.” you nodded at his request, before adding it to the order. “also, i’d like a shot of your love in it,” “smooth, but not smooth enough. try harder, pretty boy.” now you were the one smirking, and he was the one with the weak knees.

JAKE a race track was the place where you least expected to be on a friday night. you could be in your bed — warm, safe and reading a book — instead of risking both your life and your ears in this hellhole. yet, kazuha dragged you over claiming she had two tickets and no one to go with, dressing you up in the most uncomfortable leather skirt you have ever seen, let alone worn. “you might even get with one of the hot racers, you know,” she had said on the drive over, earning a playful smack on the arm from yoy. well, she wasn’t really wrong. the second you sat down on the bleachers surrounding the track, a pair of eyes caught onto you, hard-set and confident. your cheeks burned under the weight of his gaze, your body heating up. little did you know, that gold that jake took home that night was for the pretty girl in the stands: you.

SUNGHOON “are you feeling cold?” his voice was calm, composed — as it always was — but there was a hint of something else behind it, something that you were scared to admit you heard. “what? oh, no, i’m fine.” you lied through your teeth, the goosebumps on your arms not providing any evidence to prove your claim whatsoever. he’d ‘tsk’ under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief as he took off his leather jacket anyway, draping it over your shoulders. it hung way too loose on your frame, considering the noticeable size difference between you and him, but it still warmed you up. “you can give it back to me tomorrow.” he added, continuing to walk you home in a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable, but was rather full of unspoken feelings.

SUNOO the wind blew past, messing up your hair and whipping against your face. your arms were wrapped tightly around around his waist, keeping yourself secure on the motorcycle that was speeding down the night road. finally, he came to a halt, stopping in front of the arcade. he hopped off the vehicle, he held out a hand to help you off, which you gratefully accepted. then, time slowed, as if you and him were the only ones in the world— sunoo’s fingers went to pat down some of your hair where it was sticking out, his touch almost reverent. a sound broke you out of your trance, and the rest of the night continued, but the ghost his touch still lingered all throughout.

JUNGWON leaning back onto his motorcycle, he watched as you walked out of your apartment building, clad in a plaid skirt and a tank top with a cardigan shielding your arms from the night air. a hint of a smirk played at his lips as his gaze set on your face, lip gloss shining even in the dim brightness cast by the the moonlight. “you showed up.” he said, more to himself than you, gently wrapping his calloused fingers around your wrist to pull you closer; his cold touch was a stark contrast to the warmth of your skin. “of course i did,” your voice came out as a soft murmur. “it’s you that i showed up for, not the soda.”

NIKI his hands wrapped around your waist and your wrapped around his neck in a desperate attempt to merge your bodies as your lips moved against one another’s in perfect sync. you kept telling yourself you wouldn’t do it again, that niki was bad for you. but the fact just made your craving for him stronger and stronger until you snapped and called him over in the middle of the night. that’s how you ended up here, pressed against the wall with niki’s body caging you between it and him, leaving you to do nothing but kiss him back. it was messy, with both of you flooding with the need to pull away for oxygen, but you couldn’t. not when he was this addictive. not when his lips were this intoxicating.

💌 @strvvy-anniee @liwinly @eunandonly @hannamoon143 @irasvr @ateez-atiny380 @amoressb @ikeulove @gudkc @mrsjohnnysuh @sol3chu @sol3chu @puma-riki @xeee334 @suhiiiies-blog @haerinheartss @layzfy @manaah02 @ijustwannareadstuff20 @deluluscenarios @hazelira @llovelili @fleuressnie @fleuryns

© CHRRIFIC 2025 ୨ৎ

[stardustquills]

thinking about drunk husband!nanami and how handsy and needy he’d get with you- i’m not well. 18+ mdni. wc; 1.7k

-

you’d be sending satoru an angry text later.

your husband was never a drinker. the man could hold his liquor, but it often went past that line of playfully tipsy and into drunk whenever he went out with satoru.

normally, you wouldn’t mind. you adored your husband. he’s always been a toucher, always needing to have some form of contact with you. maybe it’s a simple hand on your thigh, or twirling a strand of hair around his finger, or ever just standing close to you, shoulder to shoulder - he just needed to be with you. and when he gets drunk, that need is intensified tenfold.

you loved it when he got like this. your big, strong, doting husband reduced into a lovesick puddle when he’s drunk and around you. like a puppy needing attention.

except it’s 1am, he just got home, and he has an important event he needs to attend-

“that’s a problem for future kento,” he muttered into your neck, hands gripping helplessly at your sleep shirt. “you smell so good. ‘ve missed you,”

“ken-“

he tugged on your shirt, pulling you impossibly closer. his hands started to roam, now at the small of your back, pulling you still into him. “honey,” he whispered against the skin of your neck, his lips brushing against it. still at the front door, he hasn’t even taken his shoes off yet.

“mmh,” you hummed, tilting your head back to let him have more access.

he took the opportunity to start kissing you, soft, simple pecks, up your neck to your ears. “my wife,” he breathed, hot breath smelling like whiskey and gin. “my beautiful, sweet, amazing wife,”

“ken,” you giggled as he moved to kiss your cheek. his hands moved up to cup your face, and yours instantly came to rest on top of his. one of his thumbs brushed against your bottom lip, his eyes staring into your own.

he leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead, and then one on your lips. it was sweet, he poured all of his love for you into it.

you looked down, “you haven’t taken your shoes off yet,”

he whined like a child in response. begrudgingly, he let his hands fall from your body as he leaned down to untie the laces of his boots, slipping out of them, before standing up again an immediately placing his hands your waist.

he stepped towards your bedroom, matching bedroom eyes to go with it. he pouted ever so slightly, looking down at his wife.

and god you’d let him do whatever he wanted. kento was a fucking good-looking man - there’s never any denying it. but right now, his his hair all sweaty and sticking to his forehead, his face flushed a dusty pink, lips parted and eyes begging, how could you ever say no to that?

“wan’ show my wife how much i love her,” he practically purred, pulling on your shirt again to pull you towards him. you stumbled towards your husband, you hands falling into his broad chest.

you could feel his abs under the thin material of his button up. normally, he was so proper, ironed shirt fully done up with a tie around his neck. but now, he looked and smelled of sex - the top three buttons of his shirt undone, wrinkled fabric, tie hanging loosely around his neck. you grabbed his tie and tugged on it, bringing his face towards yours.

“you have that thing tomorrow,” you tried to stand your ground, “you’ll be hungover, too.”

“don’t care,”

“you will tomorrow.”

“yeah, tomorrow. not right now.”

he pulled you into your shared bedroom, easily throwing you onto the bed and crawling towards you. “right now,” he started, licking his lips as he leaned in close, “i want my wife,” his hands came up to your shirt again, grabbing fistfuls at the hem. he pulled the shirt up and over your head, discarding it on the floor before he leaned into you, lips attaching to yours.

“wanna show her how good i can make her feel,” his lips trailed down your neck, then collarbone, “gonna show her how much i love her,” his hand came up to squeeze a tit, his eyes flicking to yours as he placed a kiss on your hardened nipple, “how much i missed her,” he continued his trail downward, hand slipping onto your waist as he kissed your stomach, light and feathery.

before you knew it, you shorts and underwear was discarded onto the floor. your legs were thrown over his shoulders and you hand buried itself into his golden locks.

k-e-n-t-o, he spelt his name with his tongue in your clit, flicking and suckling on the poor bud. your back arched off the pillows, your thighs threatening to squeeze shut around his head.

“h-ahh, kentooo,” you dragged, lolling your head to the side as your eyes screwed shut.

his hands were on your thighs, forcing them to stay open, flat against the bed. “so, so sweet,” his voice was muffled by your cunt. sticky, sweet wetness coating his face. “absolutely delicious, mrs. nanami.”

n-a-n-a-m-i, his tongue spelt your shared last name, something that drove him mad. of course you recognized when he spelt something with that tongue of his.

“kento you filthy man-“

“but you love it.”

your giggles turned into moans once more when he interested a finger. long and thick, he pumped it in and out of you before adding a second and curling it against that spongy spot in your walls.

“nngh,” you couldn’t speak coherently anymore. your hand fisted the pillow behind your head, the other one still grabbing his hair, dragging his face into your cunt. his mouth attached to your clit, sucking like his life depended on it as his fingers curled and uncurled inside you.

married life treated you good.

“k-ken, gonna come!” you mewled, and he bucked his hips into the mattress.

his groan was muffled, but you heard it nonetheless. “gonna come, pretty girl?” his words slurred, he was still drunk. “i can feel it.”

your walls clenched around his fingers. you legs were shaking, toes curled and back arched as your breathed through your mouth. an endless string of noises and babbles left you, voice high pitched and airy.

and then he stopped. stopped sucking your clit and pulled his fingers out of you with a stupid grin on his face. “not yet, m’love,” he rushed to unbuckle his belt, getting out of his slacks.

you didn’t even have time to complain. he leaned down, hungrily kissing you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. you could taste yourself on him. sweet, just like he said.

he pulled back and stopped the kiss and quickly as it started. one hand went to his cock, idly pumping it as he looked down at you. “so pretty f’me,” he cooed, his free hand now flipping you over.

face in the pillows and ass in the air, kento’s hand traced a line from your neck to your waist.

smack! his hand landed a spank against your bum, immediately massaging the area and cooing. “so perfect, mrs. nanami. my beautiful wife.”

he dragged the mushroom head of his cock through your folds, gathering up the mixture of your slick and his spit.

“ken, ken please,” you attempted to push you ass back, wanting him in you already.

“greedy slut,” he spat, laughing at your futile attempt. another smack before he continued to drag hiimself between your folds. “i guess i can’t refuse my wife, can i? gotta give her what she wants,” he lined himself up with your entrance. “gotta make her happy,” and he pushed himself in, hard and fast, hitting your cervix already.

“oh!” you shriek was dampened by the pillow.

he didn’t give you a moment to adjust like he usually did. he started going right at it, hips snapping against yours like his life depended on it. “that’s it, take- hah, take it like a good girl. nngh, like the whore you are,”

your tried to push yourself onto your elbows, wanting to peak behind you to take a look, but Kento quickly put a stop to that. he reached forward, shoving your face back into the pillow as his hips continued their assault.

“mm-hmm, ken,”

another smack!

“sir!”

kento bit his lip as he watched your hips move back, matching his rhythm, a grin spreading across his face. his hands moved to grab them, pulling you back onto him, helping you move.

“that’s it, there you go,”

his sweet talking made your head spin.

“taking me so well, little slut.”

your walls fluttered around his dick. squeezing and clenching, a thick white ring forming at the bass of his shaft. balls smacking against your clit with each thrust, he made your see stars.

you snaked a dainty hand down between your legs, middle finger desperately rubbing circles against your swollen clit.

“wanna come, m’love?” he asked so sweetly, watching your hand work. he grabbed a fist full your hair and pulled you up, your back against his broad chest. “gonna come around my cock?”

“a-aah, ken, nngh!” you couldn’t even form a full sentence with how well he was ramming into you. this new position let him go even further in you, his entire length disappearing into you.

you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, tits bouncing as he helped you up and down.

“what’d the matter sweetheart? is this too much for you?” he cooed into your ear, his delicate tone a stark contrast from the way he abused your cunt.

you were almost tempted to nod, but he laughed instead. “you can take it.” his hand replaced yours on your clit, his other one on your hips, helping you up and down.

“you’re close,” he commented, voice breathless. “i- hahh, i can feel it. you squeezing so good ‘round me.”

one, two three more thrusts and you were coming. you body shook and spasmed, a cry of your husband’s name leaving your lips.

four, five, six more thrusts and he was spilling into you. he came with a pretty moan of your name, all breathy and high pitched. white, hot seed filled your cunt, into your womb as he stilled, collapsing forward onto to the bed as you were trapped under him.

he didn’t let go of you, didn’t pull out as he placed a kiss onto your shoulder.

“ken-“

“ah ah,” he thrusted.

“sir,” you panted, whimpers and whines still leaving you. “you need to rest,”

kento groaned, his hand rubbing a singular, lazy circle on your clit.

“kento, ‘m sensitive!”

“that was only the beginning, sweetheart.”

[imnotshua]

show me how - kmg

٠࣪⭑ pairing: kim mingyu x fem reader ٠࣪⭑ summary: you meet mingyu in a bar and then you fuck. that's it, that's the tweet. ٠࣪⭑ genre: generic au, strangers 2 lovers, smut ٠࣪⭑ rating: explicit. minors do not interact with me, i'll block you. ٠࣪⭑ warnings: swearing, drinking, one night stand. ٠࣪⭑ smut contents: gendered terms, mingyu has an enormous cock (canon), kisses, v fingering, oral (f receiving), v sex, mingyu 🔛🔝, wet patches <3. teasing but it's good natured. if you think i've forgotten anything please let me know so i can fix my post! ٠࣪⭑ wc: 2k - complete ٠࣪⭑ a/n: i needed a break from angsty wonwoo and this just sort of happened, my bad, lads and ladettes. please note this is unbeta'd and unedited because it's 1am and i'm tired now thank u vm, any mistakes are my own but do lmk if u see any so i can fix ٠࣪⭑ thank you all for visiting my little corner of the internet. i hope u like this one<3

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · · Jeonghan always does this. He insists it’s his job as department lead to take the new recruits out for drinks, as a sort of ice breaker. Terrible idea, you always say, to feed newbies (far too much) alcohol on their first Friday, and expect them to feel totally comfortable in his presence come Monday. That’s why you’re always there too, because you can rein Jeonghan in (sometimes) and it’s not your department to actually worry about. 

Tonight is like any other. Jeonghan is playing matchmaker for some unsuspecting interns and Seungcheol is trying not to make moon eyes at him. Ridiculous, if anyone asks you, which no one does. You’re perfectly content sitting at the bar nursing your drink and texting Seungcheol to let him know what a down bad loser he is, until someone too enormous to ignore takes the seat next to you. And you’re annoyed, even though it is the only spare seat in this place, because his giant arm knocks yours as he calls down a bartender, sending your drink splashing over the counter. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” he says, grabbing for tissues and mopping up the mess. “Let me get you another.”

“Oh. No, I’m good actually.”

“That was a full glass of wine.” Here we go.

“Yes it was.” 

Seungcheol is texting you already. 

Cheolie: who is THAT guy Cheolie: you should fuck him immediately oh my god Cheolie: he’d swing you round like a bat

Why on earth would I want to be swung around like a bat?

“C’mon, let me make it up to you,” says Tall Stranger. Even sitting down he’s a head above you. He’s probably terrible for your mental health. ”I’d feel guilty all night if I can’t replace it.” 

“I don’t take drinks from random men.”

Cheolie: idk dude but he could do it Cheolie: he’s your type!!!!!!!! Cheolie: when did you last get laid even “Technically you’d be taking it from the staff. I’d just pay for it.”

He’s not even hot. He’s just tall

Cheolie: bitch i can see his cheekbones from here Cheolie: 11/10 easy

Finally turning looking at him properly, you have to give Seungcheol credit where credit is due. All smooth skin, big eyes, and perfectly full lips. You could cut your finger on that cupid's bow. 

“I guess you’ve got me there,” you say.

“I’m Mingyu.” He smiles wide. Oh nooo, he’s hot. 

I’m not fucking a stranger from a bar! Go tell Jeonghan you wanna suck his dick and leave me alone

Cheolie: :))))))))))))

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“My apartment was definitely closer,” Mingyu says between wet kisses pressed to your jaw. 

You push him off to pull your shirt over your head and he gapes at your chest. Pervert. “Well, we’re here in case you turn out to be a killer,” you say. Mingyu crowds your space again so fast, slipping impatient hands down your body, warming your skin with them. Snaking one between your legs and finding the material of your underwear a little damp. “At least then my roommates could find my body.” 

“Not a killer–” he says against your neck. “But I am about to murder this pu–”

“Oh my God, never say that again.” 

“Noted.”

The best thing about one night stands with guys might actually be that you can say and do pretty much anything, and there’s little to no embarrassment. You can tell Mingyu here that it’s his job to make you come before he does, and all he does is nod, dumb and horny, and a lot into it. 

He moves back on your bed, pillows shoved out of the way and spine pressed against the headboard, and looks at you with something like trepidation. If trepidation could be sexy or whatever. You climb into his lap and take your time unbuttoning his shirt. Mingyu watches your hands as you brush against his skin and asks if he can kiss you.

“Since you asked so nicely,” you say, offering up your neck. 

Unfortunately, he’s ever so good. Just smiles sheepishly (very hot) and tugs your chin down to catch your bottom lip between his. It’s better than you expect. Attractive men don’t kiss this well, usually, because they never had to work for it. Unfair, really. “Let me make you feel good,” he whispers against your lips, deft fingers tugging your underwear to the side.

Everywhere goes tight as he rubs circles over your clit. Mingyu holds up your skirt with his other hand, leans back to watch, and the heat creeps over your neck. What was that you were thinking about little to no embarrassment? Disappears the moment you see his jaw slacken, cheeks flushing with want, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “You feel so soft,” he says. “So fucking wet.” God, who made him? You drag an unsteady breath as a finger slips inside, curls it just enough to make you whimper. He strokes you gently, working you open, slipping another finger in just as soon as he thinks you can take it. You can’t. 

“Fuck,” he gasps. He leans in to drag his teeth across your shoulder.  “You just got so tight. Wanna feel that on my cock.”

“Do you always narrate?” Your words come thready. Embarrassing times ten. 

“Uh– yeah,” he laughs. “Should I stop?”

“No, no. It’s okay.” 

“Gonna make you come now, baby,” he says. “It’s gonna be fast, okay? Need to fuck you.”

“Cocky–” you start, but he’s laving a flat tongue over the lace of your bra, making your nipple pebble through the thin material. His fingers slide deeper, his wrist coated in you, and the way he uses the heel of his palm against your clit is leaving you breathless. He smiles with pleasure as your moan catches in your throat. Applies the pressure, just the right amount, to have you bucking against his hand. “Needy.” He says it like it’s praise.

“I’ll snap your fingers off inside me, Mingyu.”

“Do you always threaten people?” He teases your clit again and it’s blinding. He moans as you clench impossibly tight. 

“Yea– fuck. Shit. Gonna come.”

Mingyu's lips find yours in a second. Licks into your mouth, kisses you through it. Hums happily, so annoyingly pleased with himself, as you shudder your way through your orgasm, a wet patch forming on his jeans. 

The rest of your clothes come away just as quick, and Mingyu groans like a fucking loser. It’s both gross and horribly attractive. Doesn’t move his hands from your body as you make fast work of his belt, lifts his hips to help you pull his jeans down and free his hard length. 

“What the fuck is that?” 

Mingyu blinks. “What is what?”

“That can of fucking Pringles you’ve got between your legs?” 

“It’s not that big.”

You can’t quite believe it. “Oh my God, you are going to murder my pussy,” you cry. “This is cruel and unfair. They’re gonna put ‘Death by Monster Cock’ on my headstone.”

“This is unbecoming.”

“Your dick is unbecoming.”

Mingyu looks ready to cry. “Are you going to touch me yet? I think I’m going to explode.”

“Yes, yes, fine. But this had better be as hard as you get.”

Unfortunately when you take him in your hands, Mingyu does actually get harder (hahaha you’re going to die) and you try to decide how you’re actually going to take this. 

“God– fuck,” Mingyu murmurs as you work your hands over him. He all but melts against your headboard, and you wonder just how many people have survived him. Not like– the size of him (well, that too) but the way he looks right now, sweat beading on his forehead, the way his pretty pink lips fall apart, like sins are spilling out of them. You roll your fist over the head and he keens. Mingyu sounds so good, you could get used to this. He groans, loud, pushing into your circled fingers like he’s desperate. You like how his chest heaves, all tight breaths and strangled half-formed noises. 

“I need– need–” 

“What do you need, baby?”

“Wanna be inside you,” he breathes. Pulls you down onto the bed, rolls on top to press a kiss to your sternum, and nudges your legs apart to slot between them. His cock slips against your cunt, still wet from his fingers. Reaches over to fish a condom from the pocket of his jeans (how presumptuous!) and tears the packet with his teeth (hot). “This okay?” he says, as he rolls it on. 

“Yes. Yeah. Be gentle, okay?” Embarrassing times a million.

Mingyu’s eyes go soft. Ew. 

“I’m always gentle.”

He is. The stretch hurts but he’s slow with it. Gives you a second to adjust, to angle your hips just right, before he moans, tells you you’re beautiful, that you feel so fucking good around him. He braces himself above you, slides into you so agonisingly beautifully deep you think you can feel him in your stomach. A moan escapes you, “Feels good, Gyu,” you whisper, and Mingyu swears. 

“You’re so tight,” he gasps.

“Pretty sure a cave would feel tight for you,” you laugh. Mingyu’s cock jolts inside you. “You’ve got the Hubble Telescope for a dick.”

“Please stop saying weird things,” he begs, and slips out just to slide back in. Pushes the air right out of your lungs. You forget to blink. Mingyu takes your broken cry and your nails digging crescent moons into his arms for the praise it is, and fucks you like you need him. His hands hold your thighs, rubbing slow circles into the skin with his thumbs, pulling them up around him to give him better access to your centre. Lets you hold on to him just to anchor yourself, almost lost to the pressure of your building release. 

Mingyu is so good at kissing. He nudges your cheek with his nose, bites open mouthed and wet at your jaw, presses one–two kitten kisses at the seam of your lips before he’s licking into your mouth, all soft lips and sensuality and tongue. He whines into your mouth as he fucks you, gasps desperately when you clench. His fingers are splayed across your body, touching everywhere he can reach with his huge hands, cups your breasts and moves to pull a nipple between teeth and grins lazy when you whimper, when you arch into it. 

He’s starting to fall apart now. Stuttered breaths and hasty thrusts, chasing your heat and his own release. God you wished he’d come inside you. He looks so pretty when he’s desperate. Eyebrows raised and eyes wide and mouth open. “Gonna come?” you ask. He nods with fervour. “Make me come again first.”

Mingyu doesn’t waste time. Loves a challenge, it seems. He pulls out without warning, leaving you empty and pulsing around nothing, fists his hand around his cock and thumbs off the condom as he dives between your legs to eat you out like a man starved. It’s embarrassing how wet you are. How he has you coming apart faster than you expect, how the way he sucks on your clit has you seeing stars. “C’mon, baby, show me how you come,” he groans between licks. “M’not gonna last.” 

His free hand teases at your clit, slips further to gather up the wetness on his fingers just to take it and run it over his cock. Fuck that’s so hot. He watches your mouth fall open, he’s all doe-eyed and too sweet for the moment, and you think he really must kill people, but by accident probably. He hums as he licks into you again, your fingers find purchase in his hair, pulling him against you tight and desperate and needy, and then his tongue flicks over your clit fast fast fast and you’re gone. Coming fast and hard, and he’s moaning at the taste of you, at the wetness pooling between your legs and soaking through the mattress. Mingyu’s done for too, “baby, you look so good,” he’s cooing, sitting up on his calves and bucking into his own hand and spilling his cum over your body. Spreads the mess over the soft skin of your stomach and tells you you look so pretty. 

God. You’re ruined. Upon your headstone will read death by softboy (with monster cock.)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

thank you so much for reading! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging so my fic can get seen outside my own little space <3 i love seeing your feedback. if you'd prefer to scream at me directly, feel free to send me a message <3

[oceantornadoo]

the ex-wife chronicles pt.4 (ex husband!john price x f!reader)

masterlist | next

follow and turn on notifications: @tornadoowarning

tw: smut. heheheh. also drunk actions also unedited

The rest of the week passes in a blur.

The men meet their mandated therapists. Sure, they’ve had psych evals and required sessions before, but these are new ones, therapizing with what happened to Soap in mind. It’s where another part of your job comes out: nanny. You have to build them up after sessions break them down. Learning what makes them tick: Ghost’s tea, Gaz’s candies, John’s cigars. Soap visits in the afternoons, going straight from physical to mental therapy. The routine is grueling and quiet a change from their normal activities when they aren’t on a mission. That’s why Friday becomes a mandatory pub night.

“Now, I’m not saying to solve your problems with alcohol,” you preach to Gaz, your third glass of white wine in hand. So what if you’re taking advantage of their Frisky Friday deals? “But sometimes, you need to get drunk with your team.” The word ‘your’ is hard and heavy in your mouth. “The people you work with. Coworkers.” You correct yourself. He nods slowly, clearly also impacted by his third drink of the night (tequila and lime).

You scored the last booth in the extremely packed pub. Gaz sits in the middle, with Ghost and Soap on his left and you and John on his right. You restrained yourself from stumbling when John waited for you to get in, instead of sitting near his sergeant, but you were too drained from the week to question it. The booth’s only meant for four, and with how much muscle this group has, you’re all thigh-to-thigh under the table. 

“‘Ve got an idea.” Soap pipes up from across the way. He’s been nursing a beer while Ghost occasionally sipped on his scotch. Doctor’s orders are no alcohol, but you told him he owed one drink for his troubles. “Was tha’?” Gaz replies. “Never have I ever.” Everyone groans, even Ghost and John. That you find comical, sending you snickering and leaning on your shoulder towards Gaz until John tugs at the belt of your jeans. It’s under the table but somehow sends the whole group stock-still, watching. You send a glare towards John, and he sends you an unimpressed stare back. 

Gaz starts asking Soap about his favorite drinking games, giving you enough cover to reprimand your ex-husband. “Don’t do that.” You whisper sharply. He leans forward into your airspace until his lips meet your ear, soft stubble rasping against your cheek. “Y’ were about to fall into Gaz’s lap.” It’s pissed you off, this handsyness of his that’s been suddenly acquired in the past week.

His hands on your stomach during the ATV ride. His thumb swiping under your eye as he murmured ‘eyelash’ under his breath. A guiding pat on the back as he moved behind you in the kitchen, completely unnecessary with how much space there was. A squeeze to your shoulder after his therapy session before he shut himself in his room for hours.

“What if I wanted to?” You snip. A lie, but cutting all the same. John Price is too practiced to show his emotions on his face, but you are were his wife. You can see how he grinds his jaw under his beard, how his eyes flicker with darkness. That same disregard for compromise that shows up in his file, time and time again. Except in the military, he’s done enough good deeds to earn it. With you, he has years to make up.

“Let’s play!” You turn back to the group, aiming a smile at Soap. He cheers, nudging Ghost who gives him a mellow look underneath his black balaclava. Soap completely ignores it.

“Aye, hen. Never have I ever shot at hostiles while hangin’ from a heli.” Gaz grumbles and takes a swig from his drink. Ghost’s eyes seem to sparkle at the memory. Soap gestures at Gaz to ask the next question, to which he rolls his eyes. “Never have I ever fucked a coworker.” You can tell he meant it to call out Soap, who makes a production out of guzzling his beer while Ghost takes a slow sip, but they all freeze when you and John drink at the same time. 

You didn’t expect him to admit it. You wonder if there were others, if you were the start of a pattern.

Then you wonder why you care.

“Cap’n!” Even though he seems more laidback than the others, you’ve never seen Soap so…loose. He’s only had half a drink too, but there seems to be a weight off his shoulders. John doesn’t respond to his taunts, simply raising an eyebrow. After a second, he shrugs and gives a non-answer. “A man’s got to have his secrets.” Soap shrugs, then turns to you. “Doc?” You shrug as well, fighting the urge to tuck your chin under the heat of four pairs of eyes. You haven’t worked your way up and invented a whole new occupation just to fold after a few drinks of wine, but you do like to stir the pot. “Don’t know why you’re singling me out, Soap. Seems here everyone does it.” He snorts, satisfied that you won’t given in. “Righ’ ye are, hen.”

The game gets fiery as Soap delivers another round of drinks (and a ginger beer for himself). You learn new things about the team: Gaz has a sister that loves to prank him, Soap’s nickname does not mean what you think it does, Ghost likes to tell bad dad jokes. John seems to be more restrained, commenting on the others while refusing to acknowledge his own answers.

As Gaz starts his fifth drink, there’s a twinkle in his eye that puts you on guard. “My turn. Never have I ever been married.” Underneath the table, your thigh goes rigid. John can feel it, you know, which means Gaz can as well. It’s a giveaway you’ll allow only due to the new glass in your hand. You sip slowly.

John does too.

He could have lied and no one would’ve known. He’s not drunk, on his second glass of whiskey when you know he practically has a tolerance. 

Ghost doesn’t seem surprised, so you wonder if he sniffed it out. On the other hand, Gaz and Soap are frozen, like someone dumped a bucket of water over their heads. Their eyes are on him but Ghost’s are on you. You feel akin to a mouse caught in a trap.

“Cap?” It’s Gaz, questioning something he never knew about his mentor. Like a son discovering his father’s lie. John swallows slowly, then cocks his head with that disarming close-lipped smile of his. “A few years ago. Not married anymore.” Gaz makes a noise in the back of his throat. You take an extra sip of wine for good measure.

“Doc?” Ghost asks. The sergeants turn their gazes to you, no less interested. The bare skin on your left hand vibrates under their attention. “Mine was a while ago. We were young and…”, you trail off, shrugging. 

“Ain’t tha’ funny.” Ghost grunts. You cock your head at him. “What’s that?” His eyes flick to John, then back to you. “Both were married awhile ago. Might’ve crossed paths at th’ license office.” Soap and Gaz laugh; forced, choked sounds. You smile slightly, then look down into your glass of wine. You don’t look at John.

“Makin’ it sound like I’m a hundred years old, Ghost.” John shoots back. With his approval, or more lack of disapproval, the game continues on. You nod at certain intervals, drinking when necessary. When Gaz asks if you’re okay, you mutter that the wine got to your head.

“C’mon, sweetheart.”

“You’re insane, Lieutenant Price.”

He snorts into your hair, tucked under his chin as you cuddle in the early Sunday light. A rare weekend of leave, hunkered down in the flat you share in London. Six months ago, he reasoned it was easier to split one rent instead of paying for two, since you were both barely home. Things are still in boxes and there’s no art on the walls. No bedframe either, a full mattress on the floor covered in floral sheets you insisted on. 

“Two Lieutenant Prices. That’ll fuck with the Captain.” Your Captain is a piece of work, but not enough to the point where you’d get married just to fuck with his head. “You really know how to propose to a girl, John. I’m near fainting over here.” He snorts, the bare skin of his chin brushing your forehead as he nuzzles him. Last night, you told him he’d look good with a beard. He said he’d look like a bear, which made you growl at him until he bent you over the couch (the singular piece of furniture you own) and fucked you into its cushy fabric.

“Stay here.” You whine as he gets up, a terribly ugly roll out of the bed because of its proximity to the floor. There’s scratch marks on his bed, new ones on top of those that had barely healed. You’d been sent on a training mission, separated for a month, and couldn’t wait to get your hands on him. Lover. Boyfriend. John.

“Close your eyes.” You closed them, sitting up and wrapping the sheet around your bare body. He never got you gifts, and neither could you, too busy being grunt workers to the captains you both got tossed around to. It was a miracle you were granted leave together. Something that had never happened before.

“Open.” He was sitting, no, kneeling in front of the bed in a fresh pair of boxers. You squinted at his face, confused. His eyes flicked over somewhere to your left and you followed them and – 

Oh.

“John.” The ring is beautiful. Older than the minimalistic styles now, which means he didn’t go out and buy it. “Baby.” His face is open and calm, always self-assured. A second look reveals a twitch in his jaw, a tell. “It’s a ring.” You point out stupidly. He laughs, something that’s become deeper recently, which you blame on his newly acquired cigar habit. “Found it in the bin an’ thought ya might like it.” He jokes. “John.” You plead.

“Marry me, sweetheart. Become the better Lieutenant Price. Yell at me when I get you pregnant and your back aches. Pick out the grey hairs in my beard.” There’s something in your eye. It’s the only explanation for the tear that trickles down your cheek, the one he swipes at with his thumb and brings to his mouth. “I can’t be a housewife, John. I mix my colors with my whites in the wash and I’m more comfortable with a gun in my hands than kids and I can’t plan a wedding.” He captures your lips in a kiss, then pulls back smiling. “Let’s elope and I’ll get a vasectomy. What’dya say?” You think. You think about how you don’t even need to think. Then you nod.

“Let’s get married.”

Soap calls it a night an hour later, muttering how he needs to take his meds. There’s an ache in his voice when he says it, mourning his past life. Ghost follows him out with a hand hovering at his shoulders. Gaz sticks around longer, talking footie with John and making eyes with a woman across the bar. He’s gone half an hour later, his arm around her waist and his mouth at her jaw.

“Forgot how easy it is.” You mutter, eyes on the sway of her hips as they exit the bar, Gaz turning back and winking. It makes you feel like a bitter hag, mourning the fun you used to have. John nudges your knee with his own, compelling you to look up. “What’s easy?” You nod in the direction of the doors. “Pickin’ up someone for the night. Not thinkin’ ‘bout the next day.” He grunts in agreement. John signals a waiter, mutters something to him, and then turns back to you. “You sayin’ you haven’t fucked anyone in a decade.” You scoff and roll your eyes. “I have, in fact. Used to be just like Gaz, pickin’ up someone new everytime I got stationed somewhere. Fun for a few nights and then gone.” John takes a sip of his drink, his jaw straining with effort.

“Gets tirin’ after a while.” He grunts. You blink, then nod. “Playin’ coy about the dog tags, the scars an’ the bullet wounds. Wakin’ up in the middle of the night an’ not bein’ about to explain a nightmare.” Though you haven’t been in combat in a while, you can relate. There’s a new layer of horror when you’re trying to heal soldiers and you get a glimpse inside their head, the bloody carcass of the beaten thing they call a brain, warped by gunpowder and bomb residue. 

“Why’d you tell them you were married?” You wonder aloud. He shrugs, shifting the hand that’s been laying on his knee. Because of the movement, it slides between the two of you, the tips of his outer fingers grazing your thigh. You should pull back. The wine argues you shouldn’t. It wins.

“You’d rather I lie?” This time it’s you shrugging, your leg pressing closer to his. He doesn’t pull away. “I wouldn’t have cared. You don’t owe me anything.” His other hand leaves its position on his drink and finds your wine glass. You watch, enraptured, as he brings it to his mouth and swallows. You thought he hated wine.

“I think about it.” He murmurs. You know the answer, but you ask anyway. “Think about what?” He turns to look at you, blue eyes searing into you. “Our marriage. ‘Fore you came, still thought about it.” Before you can answer, a paper container of fried food pops out of thin air. The smell wafts over and you perk up immediately. 

“Are those cheese curds?” You became obsessed after your first trip to America when you were stationed in the Midwest. “C’mere.” He wraps an arm around you and pulls. You decide not to question it and stay silent.

“Open.” There’s a cheese curd in front of you. Obediently, you open. He hums as he places it in your mouth, your lips wrapping around his fingers and tasting the grease on them before letting go. As you chew, he pops one into his mouth, licking at his thumb. You whine at the loss of fried goodness. “Still a vulture with food, hm?” Instead of answering, you reach for another one, but he pins your hand to the table with the hand that isn’t around your waist. That’s when you register your position on his lap, propped on his leg as he feeds you a treat you didn’t think he knew existed. (You were divorced by then, no contact for a few weeks.) The way you’re sitting is unprofessional and comfortable and so delicious when he feeds you another bite. And then another. It continues until the container is empty and your belly is full and your head is slightly clearer.

You look up and he’s there. Bearded and wrinkled and hardened. The bright blue of his eyes has dulled into a stormy ocean grey. His hat is stupid and you want to curse whoever bought it for him. There’s no ring on his finger and by the sound of it, no one waiting in his bed. And you, his ex-wife, are here in his lap, your thigh pressed against the hardness that strains the denim of his jeans.

There’s crumbs on your face. He’s seen you pimply on your period and heaving after a bad hangover and squatting in a dark forest after a spoiled MRE (who knew they could go bad). Yet, he still yanked you onto his lap and now his face is tucked into the crook of your neck, sniffing. His nose brushes the skin behind your ear and trails around it until your earlobe is between his teeth. 

“John.” Your hands curl into the khaki fabric of the black button-up he wears. He groans into your neck, shifting you further into his lap. “John, you’re drunk.” He licks at the skin above your shirt and you gasp, the feeling so alien. You’ve been celibate for a year now and this much physical contact, all-consuming with the man you once loved and made vows to, is overwhelming. John doesn’t answer, tongue occupied with licking the salt on your skin. Your view is blocked by his stupid, stupid hat so you rectify the situation by taking it off him and plopping it on your own head. He pulls up immediately.

“You’re drunk too, sweetheart.” He hasn’t called you that in years. Something inside you clenches, too difficult to tell if it’s your heart or your core or the space in between. “C’mon.” He pushes you off his lap and out of the booth, hands at your hips to help you stand. John crowds your back as he guides you to the one-room bathroom. Are you really doing this, with him? The  monsters of your marriage turn out to be just trees when you think back, blurred by the pressure of him behind you.

“We’re not fucking.” The bathroom door opens, and shuts closed with a click. “Tha’s fine.” You’re pressed against the wall. “And I’m not getting on my knees in this filthy bathroom, John.” A knee slots between your thighs. “I ain’t either.” You scoff. “Then what-”

“Y’gonna let me kiss my wife now?” He shuts you up with a kiss. Lips you haven’t felt in ten years, five months, and three days. Not that you remember that last fuck, the night before you agreed to sign the papers.

His hands pull you forward, your clothed cunt sliding against his denim-clad thigh, and you whine with understanding. It was your favorite way to get off (still is, but no one else can do it correctly) when you were together. Grinding against him, the seam of your jeans hitting your clit as you pant into his mouth. Strong hands guide you up and down and wetness pools in your underwear, simple cotton ones you didn’t think anyone would see. You bite down hard on his lips, wanting him to feel your frustration at how well he still knows your body. All he does is smile against your lips.

“Now y’r quiet, pet. Ten years an’ so fuckin’ predictable.” You whimper at the new nickname. His presence has changed from upstanding to all consuming, his words from sweetheart to pet. Lips trail down your cheek, your jaw, your neck. That godforsaken hat is still on your head and almost slips off, but the strap catches on your chin. The pressure in your core is unbearable, encouraged by the firm muscle under you that hits every angle. Your hands curl around the nape of his neck, nails digging into the skin there, wanting to make him hurt a little. To feel the same bodily betrayal that seeps into your veins, murmuring all the reasons this is wrong. Except all it does is urge him on, those paws tugging you up and down.

“Probably soakin’ through your jeans, huh?” He murmurs in between bites to your jaw. “Not possible, would have to be wet for that.” You attempt. He growls, bearlike. “Can fuckin’ hear the sound of you, pet. Don’t play dumb now, I know you’re close.” You give up on being coy and tuck your head into the nape of his neck, losing steam as your thighs burn. He makes up for it, maintaining the rhythm that has something coiling deep in your core.

“John, John, I’m right there, will you-” He bites the juncture of your neck, a vampire in another life. You squeak at the thrill it sends down your spine, at how you tip over and into your orgasm as your cunt clenches and spasms. He helps you through it until you beat at his back and plead for him to stop, your voice almost gone from all your whines. John gently places you on your feet, your head against his chest as you catch your breath. And he just stands there patiently, hands at your waist until your breathing evens out.

“Feel ok?” You nod, then shake your head. “That can’t happen again. It’s not- this isn’t professional and I’m going to be here a while.” His hand sneaks under your shirt and presses into your stomach, like he’s checking for something. “Yeah, baby. Whatever you say.” You tug on his shirt until he meets your eyes, choosing to not acknowledge the hold he has on you. “I’m serious, John.” He kisses a spot near your lips and you mourn that he ignored them. “I’m serious, too. Let’s get you back now.”

It’s a short walk back to base, time passing by as fast as the stars overhead. When you reach the barracks, you shoo him away and tell him to go through the back entrance. All he does is pat your ass before walking away. When you walk through the entrance, smoothing down your shirt, you stop at the light in the kitchen. Ghost sits statue-still, nursing a steaming mug of tea. Eerie, since you thought he and Soap weren’t sleeping here. That thought floats away when he opens his mouth.

“Nice hat, Doc.”

Fuck.

-

comment if you spot the t swift lyric! it's not from this decade (2020s) if that helps...

[yungistiny]

GAMEBOY ═ chapter two

[ J. Yunho ]

chapter two: flirting?

╚═════════

summary: yunho has no idea that his neighbor across the hall, the same one he’s had a crush on, was his arch nemesis behind a headset

warning: dom yunho, bratty/sub reader, slight orgothumophilia, masturbation, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, degradation, overstimulation, oral, sexting, more will be added

pairing: gamer yunho x gamer afab reader

genre: smut, romance, angst, drama

word count: 1.7k

chapter one

chapter three coming soon

masterlist

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Yunho was waiting on live, waiting for San, their other streamer friend Jongho and Juniper. He reached for his redbull, the taurine taste tangy on his tongue.

Finally, after waiting fifteen minutes mind you, the others joined him. Yunho had to lock in now, watch his tongue. He couldn’t say too much, couldn’t say what he really wanted to say without getting banned.

“Come on guys,” Juniper’s voice was dripping with teasing brattiness. “You know Yunho gets impatient, he must be a three minute man.” San and Jongho were both trying not to laugh, their snorts and snickering echoing in Yunho’s headset.

Yunho poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue, his words left him before he could stop himself. “Keep getting on my nerves and I’ll show you how long I can last.” He froze for a second after he said it. The chat on the side blowing up, the other three now dead silent through the headset.

From her end, y/n too was frozen. Because how does she respond to that? Her heart racing, thighs clenching together under her desk at the way Yunho’s voice dropped just a tad deeper when he said it.

Yunho had to bite his lip to keep from smirking. He finally found a way to shut her up. The first hour they played, Juniper was quiet, throwing in a few remarks here and there at San and Jongho getting killed. By the second hour, after a much needed bathroom break, Yunho found he was actually missing the bickering.

He waited until Juniper got killed, taking a sip of his third redbull before grinning. “What’s wrong, brat, you seem off your game tonight?” His voice was deeper, teasing, mocking. The exact same way she would do him. Jongho snickered which seemed to annoy her.

Y/N ignored the way he said brat, the way she liked hearing him call her that. She wasn’t used to him teasing her back, it’s why she hadn’t started on him yet. By the halfway point into their second hour of streaming, San and Jongho had had enough. It was funny a little when it was just Yunho getting teased, but now, he was feeding into it. Teasing her back, at this point borderline flirting.

They were even playing good together. Like really good. The chat was even making jokes that the two of them were dating from the way they were acting. “Should start calling you plug with the way you’re constantly up my ass.”

Yunho smirked as he successfully took out two opposing players back to back. He was actually enjoying the little back and forth this time. Maybe he should have joined her a long time ago? “If I was up your ass you’d know it.”

“Maybe we should all log off and leave the two of you to test that theory.” Jongho teased, snorting in amusement and cursing under his breath when he got killed.

“How could he?” Yunho was just about to gain his highest score, highest rank, as Juniper’s voice dropped, something familiar in it. “He’s so big he wouldn’t fit.”

Yunho got killed. His entire winning streak gone just like that. He couldn’t even concentrate anymore, her words were on repeat in his head. Her voice. Why did it sound so familiar?

“Ok..” He cleared his throat. “I think I’m getting tired.” It wasn’t a total lie, he was still pretty tired from all the streaming he’s done the last few days, but he was actually just trying to go fix the problem that was now in his sweatpants.

Yunho closed his eyes, sighing when the stream ended. He sat there for a minute in his gaming chair, hoping his problem would just go away. A notification came from his phone, a new dm from twitter. He was curious suddenly, he didn’t allow anyone to just be able to message him, he had to following them back.

He hesitated opening it, the username, the @, staring back at him being the reason his dick was now a prominent bulge in his sweats. Juniper. He had forgotten they followed each other, Yunho only going on twitter to post when he’s streaming or to drop some random thought here and there, he wasn’t very active.

Juniper [ you better not leave me on read ]

Yunho was stuck. He’s never talked to her outside of streaming before. Not to mention how hard he was at the moment because of her.

Yunho [ what do you want? ]

Juniper [ rude ]

Yunho was mid typing, tongue darted out to wet his lips when another reply from her popped up and if his dick wasn’t already hard it certainly would have been now.

Juniper [ I want you to put me on my knees. I want you to fuck my face. I want you to ruin my fucking throat ]

Fuck. Yunho deleted what he was going to send, thumbs typing quickly, dick twitching in his sweats.

Yunho [ what was that you said earlier? I’m too big? You wouldn’t even be able to fit me in that smartass mouth of yours ]

Y/N stared at his reply, laying in her bed now that the stream was over. She was starting to get little snippets of Yunho she never thought she would. Well, Juniper was. Their bickering earlier slowly turned into them flirting, at least, she had been anyway.

But what does she do? If Yunho now liked Juniper, where does that leave y/n? She was Juniper but he didn’t know that. He had no idea the girl he was practically sexting was his friend. His neighbor right across the hall.

Juniper [ you’ve thought about it haven’t you ]

Thought about it? Yunho might of gotten himself off once thinking about it. The thought of shutting her up by making her gag on him, make her take his entire length and size in her mouth. Make her choke on it until she’s begging him to pull out. He’s never even seen her face before but fuck he knew she’d look so good with his dick down her throat.

Before Yunho could type out a response, Wooyoung’s voice echoed into his room, his bedroom door left open. “I brought takeout.” And though Yunho ate earlier, after hours streaming and all the caffeine in his system, he was starving again.

“I got sushi.” Wooyoung gestured towards the tray on the kitchen counter when Yunho trudged in and out of his room. “Don’t.” Yunho warned his roommate who noticed the bulge still in his sweats. He knew Wooyoung already had a sarcastic ass remark to his predicament waiting on his sharp tongue.

Wooyoung snickered, holding his hands up as if to say he came in peace.

He’d tease him about it later.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

Yunho finally got some sleep Wednesday, thirteen hours. It was past 3:00 pm when he woke up. His hair a mess, lips puffy. He dragged his feet to the bathroom, relieving himself, washing his hands. He quickly brushed his teeth and ran a comb through his hair.

He was rubbing at his eyes, yawning, unlocking his phone and opening twitter to his dms. The last message Juniper sent sat there staring back at him.

Juniper [ I bet you like it when I tease you. you probably get off on that shit ]

They had been messaging each other since she sent that first one. Each message becoming more dirtier, crossing a line they can’t come back from. They hadn’t streamed together again yet, and Yunho had no idea how he could just go back to bickering with her back and forth after what they’ve said to each other the last two days.

Yunho [ get off on the thought of shutting you up by making you choke, take my dick in that bratty ass mouth of yours ]

Juniper [ I bet you’d be so heavy on my tongue you’d have to grip my hair to hold me up so I could take it ]

Fuck. How much longer could he go like this? Sexting a girl he’s never seen face to face before. A girl that not a couple of days ago was the biggest pain in his ass and now all he wanted to do was ruin her.

He didn’t get a chance to type back a reply as his phone began ringing, the marvel theme song making him jump slightly in surprise after been so caught up in Juniper. Y/N name stared back at him along with her contact picture, one Yunho took of her at the New Year’s party Wooyoung had thrown. One where she was smiling and giggling into a glass of wine.

Shit! How had he almost forgotten it was Wednesday? Their Wednesday. “Y/N, hey…” why did he sound breathless? Did Juniper’s messages really affect him that bad?

“I’m getting the soju but I can’t decide what to get us to eat for our binge watch.” Why did y/n sound…. different? Her voice was…. huskier, almost sounding breathless like Yunho’s own and a little…. familiar? There was something about her voice in that moment that Yunho couldn’t quite figure out that reminded him of something….. “I could get pizza? You choose.”

“Ummm…” Yunho shook his head, he was just spacing out, still half asleep, at least that’s what he told himself anyways. “Let’s do pizza.”

“Pizza it is!” Y/N voice no longer sounded different, Yunho officially putting off onto him still not being fully awake yet seeing as how he had only gotten out of bed like maybe twenty minutes ago. “I’ll see you later.”

Later. Good. It’ll give Yunho time to take a cold shower and deal with the raging hard on he once again had because of Juniper.

Y/N was also having a predicament. Wet patch staining her panties as she parked her car outside of a local pizza place. How the hell was she supposed to act normal around Yunho after all the things they’ve said to each other?

All the things he told Juniper? All the dirty little details he wanted to do to her.

It was gonna be a long night.

═════════ ═════════ ═════════

permanent tag list: @straycat420 @autieofthevalley @dejatiny @hannahlilibet411 @xh01bri @jintastic-yuyu @maddycline @ultrapinkvoidbouquet @wooyoungsbrat @lucid-galaxys-world @ateezswonderland @therealcuppicake @aerangi @delulu4yuyu @hyuninslutbbgirl

[rhyrhy]

Kiss the chef

[warnings]: chef! Abby, unserious, suggestive mentions, headcannons, wc 1k

Chef! Abby’s! first viral video was around a year ago. A simple clip of her making cacio e pepe. The video was beautifully shot, a warm coloring complementing the glossy dish. but what really got everyone’s attention?

The way her forearms tensed while she cracked fresh pepper. Veins showing themselves along her freckled skin. Comments often reading:

@ “ok but how do i get the pasta to look this good?”

@ “i have something to say but i want to go to college”

@ “ma’am, i’m trying to focus but your ARMS?????😣”

@ “looks SO good💕..and the food i guess”

Chef Abby! had always loved cooking, growing up in a kitchen with her dad, who ran The Cordova, one of downtown Washington’s finest restaurants. But she liked the no pressure vibe of TikTok—just her and her food. She decided she wouldn’t show her face much, if at all. Letting the small flex of her muscles when she kneaded dough into a floured surface be the main visual. While comments? They were only half focused on what she was making.

Naturally, her account gained traction. No face, no voice—just hands, muscles, and literal food porn. Every video felt like a Sunday afternoon in a kitchen. @buffandbasil, now sat at 2.5 million followers.

Chef Abby! tried to ignore the thirst in her comments. How could she? It was honestly a small ego boost, even if it was a bit over the top at times. Like the second pinned video on the top of her page—where all she was doing was making bread.

@ : “knead ME like that.”

@ : “both lips are smiling rn”

@: “need her to bake something in me, respectfully😇“

@: “we need to chill in the comments… *saves video*”

Chef Abby! wasn’t a huge fan of putting her face in her videos. However, the occasional face slip would happen. A quick shot of her golden hair in view or a reflection in a clean pan.

The third and final pinned video? The one sitting at a few million views and a comment section that out-ratioed it?

Her hair draped over a fitted black Henley shirt, the top button undone. Sleeves rolled up to her elbows. And when she reached up for something overhead in a cabinet? A small sliver of her torso—those abs?

Yeah. They lost it.

@ “niagara falls just relocated”

@ “MY CLOTHES, WHERE’D THEY GO!!?!”

@ “her strap drags, for sure. touches the floor.”

@^ “mind you, i would take it.😊”

@ ^^ “y’all are TOO freaked out 💀”

And trust—Chef Abby! loved it. Really. Laying in bed, straight cackling on FaceTime with her best friend Manny, sending him screenshots or full-blown screen sharing. She didn’t reply. Not really. But she absolutely posted a few videos after. No shirt, just her “Kiss the Chef” apron and vibes.

And the one time she did reply?

@: “Do you do weddings?”

@buffandbasil :“Yes, actually.”

Harmless, right? Simple. Straightforward. She had catered weddings before. Large events, alongside her father, but—

@: “As… the bride?”

She saw it exactly three minutes after posting her reply. And in those three minutes, her comment had already tripled in likes. The replies? A war zone.

@ “ANSWER THE QUESTION!”

@ “HELLO???????”

@ “bro air balled.”

@ “ok so u free next saturday or???”

She paid it no mind. Mostly. But sometimes, a few profiles caught her attention. She was human, after all. Chef Abby! had seen your likes. You didn’t know it yet.

For you? It was originally just another cringe or brain rot video being sent by your roommate, Dina. But when you clicked the video of @buffandbasil all laughter halted. Typing back—

You: “Dee, hear me out..😭”

Dina: “Oh my god. OH MY GOD. Lost the plot.”

Chef Abby! considered reciprocating the engagement but saw how many views you usually received on GRWMs and storytimes and decided on a more… exciting approach. Wanting to see if you’d bite.

No aesthetic instrumentals—this time, a voiceover. Her voice, soft, steady Tutorial style.

“So today, we’re making sourdough from scratch. You wanna make sure your starter is active, and then we’re gonna knead it—”

@: “OH SHE TALKS???”

@: “it’s all over the screen ngl 🌊”

@: “asmr videos when?”

@: “great now i have a crush on a faceless chef, thanks.”

@: “I’m ovulating rn please chill 💔💔”

But the only comment she was looking for? Yours.

@ you: “Me next🫦!”

You typed it. And went to bed. She had so many comments—she probably wouldn’t even see it.

But as the sun poured through your curtains the next morning, your stomach flipped. A notification.

Followed by @buffandbasil. 2 hours ago.

Legs swinging the blankets off, then you were sprinting down the hall, launching yourself onto Dina’s bed like a feral animal let loose.

She groaned, blindly swatting at you. “Dude, what the—”

Without another word, you shoved your phone in her face. Dina squinted, blinked a few times, then—loud, cackling.

“Dee. This isn’t a ‘hear me out’ anymore—this is a hold me back.” You said, falling next to her dramatically, smiling.

Dina wheezed, shaking her head. “Nah. You are in the sunken place now, sister.”

[sakuraszn]

Hi! First off, I love your writing. The way you unfold a story feels so natural, and you manage to evoke so much emotion with a simple, concise style. I was so over my Bakugo phase after moving on from MHA, but somehow, your writing brought back just a little of those old feels.

So, if you're up for it, could I request a Bakugo x ex-villain reader? Maybe she’s taken in by U.A. after deciding to leave her villainous family but struggles to fit in. Bakugo, begrudgingly, helps since he kinda knows what it’s like to be treated like a ticking time bomb. Just pure fluff. Thank you!

a spark in the ashes, ft. katsuki bakugo x ex-villian!reader

note: THANKKK YOUUU SO MUCHHH!! I love when people compliment me on my writing, it’s such a mood booster to continue on doing something I adore so much and I’m happy I was able to get you hooked back onto his character again! I would be down to write this and I hope you like it, mwaa🫂💓.

The halls of U.A. were much louder than you expected.

Even though you had spent years watching the school from the shadows, studying its heroes, dissecting their every move for weaknesses, you had never imagined what it felt like to walk among them. The sheer energy of the place buzzed in your ears—the laughter, the chatter, the casual way students moved like they belonged. It was something you had never felt before.

Not truly.

You pulled your hoodie lower over your face, trying to avoid the sideways glances thrown your way. Even after Principal Nezu personally vouched for you, even after Eraserhead took responsibility for your rehabilitation, the whispers never stopped.

“That’s her, right? The villain’s daughter?”

“Why would U.A. even let someone like that in?”

“Bet she’ll snap any day now.”

It wasn’t that unexpected. You had lived your entire life being feared—first because of your family, then because of the things you had done in their name. Changing sides didn’t erase the past. And it certainly didn’t erase the scars.

You just wished it hurt a little less.

As you moved down the hallway, pretending not to hear the murmurs, someone shouldered past you. Hard.

“Tch. Move it, dumbass.”

You barely caught yourself before stumbling, snapping your gaze up to glare at the culprit.

Bakugo Katsuki.

Of course it was him.

The moment you locked eyes, his crimson gaze flickered with something unreadable. You expected hatred—after all, he had more reason than most to despise you. Instead, his eyes darted away, his expression twisting in annoyance.

“Quit starin’,” he muttered before storming off.

You scowled after him, muttering, “Asshole,” under your breath.

You had been warned about him, mostly by Kaminari and Kirishima. “Bakugo’s got a rough way of showing it, but he’s not as bad as he seems,” they had said. “He’s just… difficult.”

You weren’t sure you believed them.

But then again, weren’t you the last person who should be judging others?

Training was hell.

Not because it was physically demanding—you were used to that. Grueling workouts, endless sparring sessions, pain that lingered for days afterward—it was all second nature to you. Your past had ensured that.

No, what made this particularly hellish was teamwork.

No one trusted you enough to be their partner, and honestly, you didn’t blame them. But Aizawa wasn’t about to let you get away with isolating yourself.

“You’ll be paired with Bakugo,” he had said, voice flat and unyielding. “Neither of you seem to grasp the concept of cooperation, so you’re going to learn it—together.”

You had barely swallowed back a groan before a familiar scoff filled the air.

“Tch. This is stupid,” Bakugo muttered, standing beside you with his arms crossed, looking as irritated as you felt. “Why the hell do I have to babysit her?”

You arched a brow, unimpressed. “Wow. With that attitude, I can totally see why people love working with you.”

His crimson eyes snapped to you, narrowing. “Hah? The hell’s that supposed to mean?”

You huffed, turning your gaze back to Aizawa. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“I wasn’t asking,” Aizawa replied, already walking away.

Bakugo clicked his tongue in irritation, but didn’t argue. You sighed, rolling your shoulders before turning to face him properly.

“Fine,” you muttered. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He scoffed. “Finally, something we agree on.”

The exercise was straightforward: navigate through a series of obstacles while evading and neutralizing the ‘villain’ bots. Success depended on strategy, agility, and—most importantly—teamwork.

Which meant you were screwed.

Not even two minutes in, and you were already at each other’s throats.

“Would you stop blowing everything up for five seconds?!” you snapped, dodging the debris from yet another one of his reckless explosions.

“Shut the hell up! This is my way of doin’ things!”

“Yeah? Well, your way is getting us nowhere!”

You could see it clearly—Bakugo was powerful, but he wasn’t thinking ahead. He was acting purely on instinct, relying on brute force. It was effective, sure, but inefficient.

And it was driving you crazy.

“Stop being so stupidly aggressive and—”

A bot lunged toward him from behind.

You moved before thinking, grabbing his wrist and yanking him backward. Your body twisted mid-air, and in one swift motion, you fired an energy blast, knocking the bot away before it could strike.

For a moment, everything was still.

Then, you realized—Bakugo was staring at you.

Not in anger. Not in irritation.

Just staring.

His crimson eyes flickered with something unreadable as he glanced from your grip on his wrist to your face. It was only then that you became aware of how close you were, your fingers wrapped tightly around his skin, the heat of his body radiating against yours.

You immediately let go, stepping back. “What?”

His gaze lingered a second longer before he scoffed, shaking his wrist like he was trying to erase the memory of your touch. “Nothin’.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You sure? Because for a second there, it almost seemed like you—”

“Shut up.”

You smirked. “Didn’t know you could get flustered, Bakugo.”

He bristled immediately. “Hah?? I’m not flustered!”

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

His eye twitched.

Despite the bickering, something shifted after that.

You noticed how, for the rest of the exercise, Bakugo actually started to listen. He still barked orders, still acted like he was the one in charge, but his movements weren’t as reckless. He adjusted his pace, matched your rhythm, and—most surprising of all—he didn’t complain when you took the lead on strategy.

By the time you reached the checkpoint, you were both panting, covered in dust and sweat.

But you had won.

And for once, you didn’t feel like you had done it alone.

Bakugo exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. “well, i guess your way doesn’t suck completely.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the almost compliment.

Then, a slow grin spread across your lips. “Wow. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me today.”

He clicked his tongue, looking away. “Don’t get used to it, dumbass.”

And yet—

Somehow, you knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

Over time, things started to change.

It wasn’t immediate—Bakugo was still Bakugo, all sharp edges and loud shouting, and you were still you, struggling to figure out where you fit in this world. But little by little, he stopped treating you like a threat.

He’d still shove past you in the halls, but it wasn’t as aggressive. He still called you names, but they lacked venom.

And then there were the little things.

Like how he always seemed to end up in the same training group as you. Or how, when people whispered about your past, he was the one who shut them up.

It all came to a head one evening.

The rooftop was quiet.

The world stretched out before you, city lights blinking in the distance, casting a faint glow against the dark sky. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of the earth below, the lingering traces of smoke from Bakugo’s explosions still clinging to your uniform.

You had come up here to be alone.

But, of course, he found you anyway.

You didn’t turn when the door creaked open behind you, didn’t even acknowledge his presence as he stepped closer. The familiar weight of him, the quiet heat, settled beside you, but he didn’t speak.

That was the thing about Bakugo—he never did anything he didn’t want to do. Which meant if he was here, it wasn’t because he felt obligated.

It was because he chose to be.

“You always come up here to sulk?” His voice was gruff, but there was no real bite behind it.

You huffed out a small, humorless laugh. “I don’t sulk.”

He gave a low scoff. “Coulda fooled me.”

Silence stretched between you.

The wind whistled softly, ruffling your hair, sending a chill across your skin. But you barely felt it. The weight pressing against your chest was heavier than the cold.

“I just needed some air,” you muttered eventually, pulling your knees up to your chest. “Needed to clear my head.”

Bakugo didn’t respond right away. Instead, you heard the faint rustle of fabric as he shifted, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees.

You should have expected what came next.

“You thinkin’ about them?”

You flinched.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeves, the answer already there—resting just behind your teeth.

Of course you were.

No matter how far you ran, no matter how much you tried to bury the memories, your past had a way of finding you. The voices of your family still echoed in your head, their lessons burned into your bones.

“You can’t trust heroes. You can’t trust anyone.”

“They will never accept you.”

“People like us? We don’t get happy endings.”

Your throat felt tight.

“I just…” You exhaled, rubbing a hand down your face. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Bakugo finally turned his head, his gaze sharp, unwavering. “Do what?”

You swallowed, barely managing to force the words out.

“Be a hero. Change.”

The confession hung heavy in the air.

For a long moment, Bakugo didn’t say anything. He just looked at you—really looked, his crimson eyes dark and unreadable.

Then, finally, he scoffed.

“You already did the hardest part, dumbass.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He leaned back, stretching his legs out, staring at the sky. His voice was lower now, quieter.

“You left.”

You frowned. “So?”

“So that means you already made your choice,” he said simply. “Ain’t easy to walk away from everything you’ve ever known.”

Your breath caught.

Because the way he said it—so matter-of-fact, like he understood—made something in your chest tighten.

“Doesn’t feel like it’s enough,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “People don’t see me as a hero. They see me as… as them. No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, it’s like I’m always one step away from proving them right.”

You didn’t know why you were telling him this.

Maybe because he was the only one who wouldn’t look at you with pity. Maybe because, despite everything, Bakugo had never once treated you like you were fragile.

Or maybe because, deep down, you knew—he understood.

Bakugo exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You think I don’t get that?”

You turned to him, brow furrowing.

He scoffed. “People look at me like I’m gonna snap any day now. Like I’m some kinda walking disaster just waiting to go off.” His hands curled into fists, resting against his thighs. “You think I don’t hear ‘em whisperin’? Saying I’m too aggressive, too dangerous to be a hero?”

You stared at him, lips parting slightly.

You had known, of course. Everyone knew that Bakugo was intense. That he was loud and brash and prone to violence.

But you had never really thought about what that meant for him.

Because heroes weren’t supposed to be like that. Heroes were supposed to be bright and shining and perfect.

Bakugo wasn’t.

And neither were you.

Slowly, your fingers unclenched.

“It’s exhausting,” you murmured, voice soft. “Always feeling like you have to prove something.”

Bakugo let out a low, humorless chuckle. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

Another stretch of silence.

Then—

“fuck.” He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders. “Screw ‘em.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You heard me,” he said, stretching his legs out again, his knee bumping against yours slightly. “People are always gonna talk shit. Always gonna expect the worst. So what? That don’t mean they’re right.”

You stared at him.

He turned his head slightly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “At the end of the day, the only thing that matters is what you do. So either let ‘em win, or prove ‘em all wrong.”

A lump formed in your throat.

Because—damn it.

For all his yelling, for all his rough edges and sharp words—Bakugo meant it.

He believed in you.

Maybe not in the loud, obvious way that others did. But it was there, hidden beneath the gruff exterior, in the way he was sitting here—choosing to be here.

For you.

Something inside you shifted.

Something warm, something steady.

You let out a slow breath, nodding. “Yeah. I think… I think I can do that.”

Bakugo scoffed, nudging your knee with his. “Damn right you can, dumbass.”

You laughed—a real, genuine laugh. The first in a long time.

And for the first time since stepping into U.A., for the first time since choosing to leave your past behind—

You didn’t feel so alone.

SAKURASZN © 2025 !

[rafesgreasycurtainbangs]

I LOVED THE WAY YOU WROTE RAFE IN UR LAST BLURB. just seeing how your body had changed in front of him and he didn’t even noticed makes him feel guilty about not nothing earlier or how you probably couldn’t eat your usual meals because your baby would make you sick if you even thought of it. and one night (maybe that night.OH the night you probably told ward and rose, and ward made a snide comment about how inattentive rafe was or something) rafe just loses it on himself

i don’t give a shit about him - rafe cameron

series masterlist

warnings: pregnancy, angst, WARD & ROSE, mentions of drug use, suggestive

au: thank you for this request!! i honestly loved writing the last one so this one was really really fun to write

word count: 1.6k

Dinner at Tannyhill had been planned for a week. You and Rafe both knew it was coming. But what Ward and Rose didn’t know—yet—was that this wasn’t just any dinner. You had spent all day trying to quiet the nerves twisting in your stomach, rehearsing how you were going to say it, how you were going to answer their inevitable questions. Rafe, on the other hand, barely spoke on the drive over, his grip tight on the steering wheel, his jaw locked in that way it always did when he was bracing himself for something.

When you arrived, everything was already set. Rose greeted you with a polite smile, air-kissing your cheek before leading you into the dining room. Ward barely looked up from his phone, only acknowledging Rafe with a quick, “You’re late.” You weren’t late. But you knew by now that, to Ward Cameron, Rafe was always doing something wrong.

Dinner started like any other—forced conversation, stiff smiles, Ward subtly nitpicking at Rafe’s job, his responsibilities, his choices. But the whole time, your heart was pounding, your fingers fidgeting with the napkin in your lap. Rafe noticed. Halfway through dinner, his hand found yours under the table, squeezing once.

It was time.

You took a shaky breath, setting your fork down. “Um… there’s something we need to tell you.” Both Ward and Rose looked up at the same time. Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened. He exhaled through his nose and just said it. “She’s pregnant.” The room fell into complete silence. Rose blinked, her wine glass pausing halfway to her lips. Ward’s brows pulled together slightly, as if trying to process what he just heard. Then, finally, Rose spoke. “Oh.”

You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but the flat, almost hesitant reaction still sent a sharp pang through your chest. Ward, on the other hand, exhaled sharply, setting his drink down with an audible clink. He leaned back in his chair, gaze flicking between you and Rafe. “Well,” he started, voice low and calculated. “I suppose the real question is… what’s the plan?” You swallowed hard. Rafe straightened in his seat. “We’re keeping it.” Ward scoffed. “That much is obvious. But I meant, what’s your plan? How do you expect to take care of a child when you can barely take care of yourselves?”

Rafe’s entire body tensed. Rose cleared her throat, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. “Ward—” “No, I think it’s a fair question,” Ward continued, his sharp gaze landing back on his son. “Do you even have the slightest idea what this kind of responsibility entails? Or were you just going to wing it like you do everything else?” Rafe didn’t react. He sat perfectly still, his expression blank, his grip on your hand tightening just slightly. “I work for the company,” he said finally, his voice low, controlled. “I have a salary. I can provide for her and the baby.”

Ward let out a humorless chuckle. “A job? Rafe, I gave you that job. You think that’s enough?” He shook his head, taking a slow sip of his drink before muttering, “God, you can’t even show up to work focused half the time.” Your stomach twisted. Rafe inhaled sharply through his nose. “I’m clean.” Ward raised a brow, unimpressed. “For how long this time?” Silence. You felt Rafe’s muscles go rigid beside you, but he didn’t break. His expression didn’t waver. “Six months,” he muttered, voice clipped.

Ward hummed, unconvinced, before finally turning his attention to you. “And you?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “What’s your plan now?” You blinked. “What?” “Well,” Ward continued, voice eerily calm, “I assume you’ll be quitting your little bartending job. Not much of a long-term career path there.” His gaze swept over you, scrutinizing. “Or were you expecting Rafe to shoulder everything while you sit back?”

That’s when Rafe finally snapped. His chair scraped back abruptly, the sound cutting through the tense air. His hands slammed onto the table, rattling the glasses. “Don’t,” Rafe snapped, his voice sharp, warning. “Don’t talk to her like that.” Ward barely reacted, only raising a brow in slight amusement. “I’m just asking a reasonable question—” “No, you’re being a condescending asshole,” Rafe bit out. Rose inhaled sharply. “Rafe.” “No,” he growled. “I don’t give a shit what you think about me, but you don’t get to sit here and act like she’s some fucking gold digger just because I’m the one making more money.”

Ward sighed, exasperated. “Oh, grow up, Rafe.” “No, how about you grow up?” Rafe shot back, his voice rising. “How about you actually try being a fucking dad instead of sitting here and treating me like shit every time I do something you don’t agree with?” Your breath caught in your throat. You had seen Rafe angry before. But this wasn’t his usual reckless rage—this wasn’t wild and unpredictable. This was calculated. Controlled. And then Ward said, “I hate to break it to you, son, but being a father takes more than throwing a tantrum at the dinner table.” Rafe’s entire body went still.

His hands were shaking, his breathing uneven. His jaw clenched so tight you were surprised he didn’t crack a tooth. But then… he turned. And his eyes met yours. And that’s when he saw it. You weren’t just sitting there, unaffected. You were tense, your breath coming in short, uneven exhales, your fingers curled into the fabric of your dress—clutching your stomach. Rafe’s anger disappeared instantly. His chest tightened, his stomach twisting in guilt. His voice softened, barely above a whisper.

“Baby.” You swallowed hard, shaking your head quickly. “It’s okay,” you whispered. But your voice was small. And Rafe hated that. His father, his rage, none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was you. Rafe exhaled sharply before turning back to Ward. “You don’t get to have an opinion on this,” he muttered. “Not about me. Not about her. Not about our kid.” Ward’s expression remained unreadable, but for once, he stayed silent. Rafe didn’t wait for a response. He turned back to you, his voice gentle. “Let’s go.” You hesitated, glancing between him and Ward. “You don’t have to stay and listen to this,” Rafe said softly. “I’m not letting him sit here and act like he has any control over our lives.” And for the first time that night, you actually believed him. So you nodded. Rafe didn’t let go of your hand once as he led you out the door.

The drive was silent at first. Rafe’s knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his grip so tight you thought he might snap it in half. But then, finally, he exhaled sharply and muttered, “I fucking hate him.” You looked over at him. “Rafe…” His grip loosened slightly. His jaw clenched and unclenched, frustration still rolling off of him. But then, he reached over, resting his palm against your thigh. “I don’t care what he says,” Rafe murmured. “I don’t care what anyone says. We’re gonna be okay.”

The moment you walked through the front door, exhaustion hit you like a brick wall. You barely took two steps inside before Rafe was pulling you into him, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “I’m sorry,” he murmured against your skin. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “For what?” “For letting him talk to you like that.” His voice was low, strained. “For not getting us out of there sooner.” You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at him. His blue eyes were still clouded with frustration, but underneath that…there was guilt. “You don’t have to apologize,” you whispered. “It’s not your fault.”

Rafe’s lips parted like he wanted to argue, but instead, he just shook his head and cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs tracing gently over your cheekbones. His gaze was intense, scanning your face like he was searching for something—reassurance, maybe. Proof that you weren’t second-guessing everything because of Ward’s words. But you knew Rafe. And you knew that no matter how much you reassured him, it wouldn’t erase the fact that he still blamed himself. After a moment, he exhaled sharply. “Come here.”

His grip on your waist tightened as he guided you toward the bedroom, his movements slower, more deliberate now. When you reached the edge of the bed, he turned you to face him completely. “I need to make it up to you,” he murmured. Your brows furrowed. “Rafe, you don’t—”

“I do.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. “I need you to know how much I love you. How much I love this—” His hands slid down, palms resting against your still-flat stomach. His gaze softened. “Our baby.” Your chest tightened. Slowly, Rafe leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Then your temple. Your cheek. His lips lingered for a second before he trailed down, kissing the sensitive spot just beneath your ear.

“Let me take care of you,” he whispered. His hands moved with deliberate slowness as he slipped the straps of your dress down your arms, his lips trailing every inch of exposed skin. Every kiss was reverent, every touch gentle, worshipping. Like he was making a silent promise to you—to both of you. When he finally laid you down, his body covering yours, you knew this wasn’t just about making love. It was about making sure you knew. Knew that nothing else mattered. That no words from anyone—not Ward, not Rose, not anyone—would change the way Rafe felt about you. That no matter what, you weren’t in this alone. And as he held you that night, his arms wrapped around you protectively, you let yourself believe it.

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 APPLE CIDER huh yunjin x reader

❀ ͘ ⴰ “and even if we’re just friends, we could be more than that”

↳ YUNJIN & HER SOLOIST GF 🍓

  ۫ • when yunjin started training again there was this one artist that she listened to that just always seemed to get her through tough times.

  ۫ • yn was her name, a rookie and she just had this angst but soft vibe to her that anyone could listen to if they wanted to be peaceful or just scream their lungs out and that’s exactly the type of music yunjin needed during that time.

  ۫ •  she found her so unique for some reason she was in the industry but she was like her own category. she was under a big company that didn’t produce the type of music she makes, she didn’t dance and she kind of just put out whatever she wanted.

  ۫ • she was also kinda cute.

  ۫ • yunjin carried her love for the artist through training, preparing for debut, listening to her an hour before lesserafim’s debut stage to calm her nerves to talking about yn during her first live alone a couple months after debut.

  ۫ • “my favourite artist?” yunjin read the comment aloud, swaying slightly to the sound of yn’s voice playing in the background. “hmm… I’ll give you a hint she’s playing right now.” she smiled as the chat sped up, comments flooding in. “I love yn so much. her music has gotten me through a lot, she’s so talented.” she tucked a strand of hair out of her face, eyes softening. “I still can’t believe she’s a couple years younger than me… she’s so talented. should I sing on of her songs?”

  ۫ • yunjin didn’t think much of it after the live, it wasn’t until deep in the night her phone started blowing with messages from her friends nearly giving her a heart attack.

  ۫ • “omg yn mentioned you on her live” “ouuuu guess who just mentioned you” “you’re gonna freak out.”

  ۫ • first of all how did she miss yn’s live? (yn never goes live so both yunjin and yn stans are on their knees begging her to go live everyday) and second of all HUH???

  ۫ • she immediately opens twitter and luckily it’s the first thing she sees.

  ۫ • OMG yn mentioned yunjin on her live today my sserayn crumbs.

  ۫ • “I don’t know, guys, attack me all you want, but milkis over banana milk any day,” yn said, spinning lazily in her chair. she slowed to a stop, eyes flicking to the chat. “did you see lesserafim’s yunjin’s live today? she mentioned you—yes! yeah, I did,” she nodded, lips curling into a small smile. “she’s a pretty cool girl. I’m really flattered that she’s a fan. I really liked lesserafim’s debut, so I guess me and her have something in common. when they get a fandom name, let me know.” she leaned forward slightly, about to move on before gasping. “oh! and her cover! it was so good, I love her voice—like, let’s make a song together at this point.”

  ۫ • yunjin nearly screamed so loud the whole dorm would’ve woken up.

  ۫ • yn knew who she was…yn wanted to make a song with her

۫ • yunjin stared at her phone, debating for a solid five minutes before opening yn’s instagram and hovering over the dm button.

۫ • after another minute of staring, she finally typed, "so… about that song?" and hit send before she could second guess herself.

۫ • she immediately threw her phone across the bed, heart pounding. she did not just do that.

۫ • except she did. and when her phone buzzed a few minutes later, she swore her soul left her body.

۫ • yn: oh? you actually wanna do it?🤭 ۫ • yunjin: um YES??? ۫ • yn: [a funny picture that only showed her forehead in a dark] . let’s make it happen.

۫ • and just like that, they started texting back and forth, going from talking about music to random late night conversations about their favorite snacks, childhood stories, and the most unhinged videos they cound find.

۫ • by the time they met up in the studio, it was like they’d known each other forever.

۫ • and at the end of the year, they actually released a song together, fans loved the sound of yunjin’s voice on a song that was more yn’s vibe and just the overall chemistry that yn and yunjin had.

۫ • and a behind the scenes vlogs had fans convinced there was something more going on.

۫ • yunjin was crushing. hard. but she kept it cool… until she didn’t.

۫ • one night, after another long texting session, she found herself typing, "so, are we gonna keep making music or do I get to take you on a date too?"

۫ • yn: that was really smooth dude. ۫ • yunjin:… is that you saying yes? ۫ • yn: maybe… depends on if it’s a sushi place if it is then yes

[halleehalfgallon]

don’t throw the baby* out with the bathwater**!

*regular people who live off the land because it’s what humans have done for millennia

**christian nationalists and tradwives who are dominating so much of the self-reliance and sustainability conversations with their nasty ass agenda that people are just handing the whole lifestyle over

i would say “let’s take this lifestyle back!” but it was literally never theirs, dammit. they’re just the loudest mfers in the room because they’re so gross that the rest of us don’t even want to admit that we also want to live in a more self-reliant, sustainable, conscious way. we just, you know, don’t want anyone’s rights relinquished about it.

please keep making sourdough, keep breaking ground, keep planting and saving seeds, keep making jelly. these are HUMAN THINGS and they are the things that are going to keep us going in times of scarcity. 

I’m tired of worrying that I might be mistaken for a Mormon when half of these goofballs on the internet aren’t even doing half the work they say they are. I’m going to go ahead and let those people put on a show for their followers, who really just want something to dream about, and while they’re setting up their cameras so they can pretend to gather storebought eggs I’m going to just….keep working hard, keep crocheting, keep learning how to make clothes, continue to mouth off and talk back, and i’m gonna do all of that in a dress and apron if i fucking want to because they do not own those concepts either. 

my grandmother would call homegrown & home cooked meals and preserves and jellies and handsewn this-and-that “making do” because to her, that is just what life is. and no, she doesn’t *have* to do it anymore, but (with the exception of her daily Pepsi which isn’t very Ballerina Farm of her) she lives pretty much the same way she always has. this is a way of life. when did we decide it belongs to the millennial maga girlies on instagram? 

this is so all over the place and i’m sure you’ve stopped reading by now if you ever even started in the first place but essentially, as someone who is a mother with a very strong identity outside of motherhood and enjoys self reliance and sustainability please can we not just hand over the one thing that humans all over the world, every culture, every language have in common straight into the hands of the people who want to use it to maintain and gain power over women, LGBTQIA folks, and anyone who isn’t white? 

because we do not have to do that. 

[jedi-luca]

Avenger Lane: Chapter 17: Heartbeats

Summary: You and your wife Quinn move your family outside of New York City to Avenger Lane; a small private suburbia. There you face your toughest obstacle of your marriage. Will your marriage with Quinn be strong enough when a certain redheaded beauty captures your attention? 

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x GN!Reader

Warnings: Smut and, Reader has a Penis

Previous Chapter

Quinn watched as you walked downstairs with your last box in hand.

“I think that’s it… I took my things out of the garage. I’ll figure out how to move the shed. We’ll have to go to the tax office and fix our titles but that’s about it.”

“You can keep it there.” She nodded, biting the inside of her lip to keep herself from crying. Truthfully she’s been crying for weeks. She lost you for good, and though you may say it wasn’t because of another woman. She can’t help but feel that way. How could she not? For months you said she wasn’t anything but a friend, and maybe you were telling the truth, but at some point, you lied. Right? You had to have lied? Feelings don't just come out over a week. At least she feels that way. It doesn’t matter much now. You got your divorce. You packed up your things, and now you’re leaving for the woman next door. 

“Really?” 

“It’s not a big deal.” Quinn nods. 

“I guess I’ll see you at the custody hearing?”

She inhales blinking away a tear. “Yup.”

“Quinn, you know I’m not taking them away… Right?”

“I know you’re not.” She nods again looking down at your feet waiting a beat before changing the subject. “Y/N, we still need to talk about Beth.”

“I know.” You whisper, looking at her photo on the mantel.

“She’s still very upset. I’ve tried to talk to her, but she just locks herself in her room. Her grades are dropping  and she’s always starting arguments with me.” Quinn sniffled.

“I- I don’t know what to do with her she won’t even look my way.” You stuttered.

“Be her parent, Y/N.” Quinn glared.

“She won’t even give me the time of day. Don’t get me wrong I’ll keep trying you know I will, I just…” you sighed. “I’m at a loss here. I can only do so much she has to meet me halfway just a little. I won’t force her to do something she doesn’t want to do.”

“I get that I do, but she needs us right now. She’s hurt, angry, and confused. She doesn’t know how to navigate her feelings at all. We have to figure it out together. By doing that I’m going to request she stay with you every other week.”

“She’s the one that gets to choose.” You sigh.

“Not when I’m the one she chooses. It’s important that you are in both of their lives.”

“I didn’t think you would.” You say in surprise.

“As much of a hard time I gave you about the divorce I won’t about our children. They love you so very much, and it would kill them if I took them away from you. I don’t want them to resent me the way I resent my parents.”

You walked over pulling her in a hug. You felt the way your ex-wife tensed and slowly relaxed hugging you back before crying in your arms.

“Everything will be okay just one day at a time. We will work with Beth together, and when you’re ready you can work on things with Rachel.”

Quinn nodded, pulling back as she wiped her tears.

“I’ll see you soon, and I’ll get Beth from school today. Maybe take her to that arcade she likes and we can talk about everything.”

“Okay.” Quinn nodded.

“We are all going to get through this Quinn, I promise.”

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You stood by the passenger side door of your truck as Beth got out of school.

You waved only to see her roll her eyes and walk past you with her friends. The only one who looked back concerned was Lila.

“Beth your-“ The Barton child began only for Beth to stop her.

“I know and I don’t care.” Beth huffed

You sighed as she kept walking.

“Mx. Y/L/N?” 

“Agatha, you can just call me Y/N.” You nod.

“I’ve been hearing Beth is starting to show signs that she’s struggling. Have you thought about maybe bringing her to my office for some one-on-one time?”

“I don’t think we’re there yet. I’m still trying.”

“Court for custody is tomorrow right?”

“Yes, I spoke with Quinn about it earlier she wants me to have equal time with the girls.”

“That’s good, I’m glad the two of you were able to work that out for the kids.” Agatha nodded.

“I was surprised but grateful.”

Agatha nodded watching as Beth looked back as she continued her trek with friends. “Just remember I’m here for her when you’re ready to bring her.” 

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You step into your new home you share with Natasha setting the box aside as you watch her cooking dinner. You walk over holding her from behind as she stirs.

“This smells delicious.” You sigh in her neck.

“I figured I’d make your favorite since you’re all moved in.” She turned her head, capturing your lips.

“Hmm, my favorite is you.” You smirk letting your hands roam her freshly showered body.

“Baby.” She sighed, as you suckled on her sweet spot.

“Hmm.” You hum drying humping into her from behind feeling yourself growing in need.

“Malysh, dinner.” She smirks pushing back into you.

“My dinner is right here.” You say placing a firm hand on her pussy that is currently growing wet beneath her shorts. Natasha lets out a moan pushing into you further. “So I guess you better lie down on the table so I can eat, or bend over the counter. Whichever you prefer.” You smirk as she brings you into a sloppy kiss.

“Daddy, I’m so wet for you already.” 

“That’s good, princess 'cause I’m salivating.”

You quickly bent her over the counter. Rocking against her letting your staff have some relief. 

“Fuck baby you’re so hard.” She moans, rolling her body with yours.

You tug down her shorts and lift one of her legs on the edge of the counter before inhaling her scent.

“Fuck you’re making my mouth water.” You open her cheeks a bit more before eating her ass.

“Oh, my-“ she moans loudly, one hand gripping the counter and the other the cabinet. 

You let your fingers feel how slick she was before turning around beneath her, licking her pussy clean. You can’t help but crave the way she tastes. The way she quivers when your tongue runs up her slick folds right against her little bundle of nerves. She moans with every swipe of the tip of your tongue.

Natasha is slowly feeling the coil in her loins wanting to spring but she needs more.

“Oh God, daddy more, please! More!”

You smirk looking at how frustrated she is. “More?”

“More Daddy please!” She begs and that’s enough for you. You’ll have mercy on her needs.

You coat your fingers in her wetness before sliding them down her clit inside her sweet pussy.

“Ohh yes!” She groans and grinds down your fingers as your tongue goes back to her taste. Natasha whimpers scratching your scalp with her nails.

“You taste soooo good babe.” You mutter between her thighs. 

“I need you inside me.”

“I am inside you.” You smirk.

“You’re gonna make me say it aren’t you?” She glared pushing you away.

“Yup.”

“I need your cock daddy.”

You stand up behind her and rub yourself against her before pushing inside.

“Y/N!” She moans, turning to bring your lips against hers.

“You always feel so good, baby.” You gripped her ass roughly as you continued your thrusts.

“You’re so thick and long.” She whimpered.

“And you take me perfectly every time.” You say feeling yourself ready to unleash your load.

“Oh my-! Faster!” She groaned and you obliged.

“I’m about to cum baby, where do you want it?”

“Inside of me.” She husked bringing you in a kiss.

You felt her pussy constricting around you when you thrust inside of her one final time before cuming deep inside of her.

“Fuck.” You sigh against her shoulder as she arches into you letting her continue her waves of pleasure.

You both kissed softly as you felt your cum rolling down your shaft. You both whimper as you pull out slowly and gather your cum on the tip of your cock before pushing back inside of her.

She hummed as you massaged her back.

“Why is it that we have made love so many times, and once is still not enough? I could go on for as long as you’d let me.” You smirked against her cheek.

“I hope you always feel that way about me.” She whispered with a hint of a smirk.

“I know I will.” You replied. “You’re my soulmate, Natasha.”

She smiled, kissing your lips. “As you are mine. Now as much as we wanna keep going, I worked hard on this dinner so how about you let me feed you?”

You pull out slowly and she picks up her shorts and panties before heading to the restroom.

“Clean the counter and wash your hands!” She shouts from the restroom.

You smirk bending over to grab the cleaner and paper towel before smelling your fingers. “Fuck that’s good.” You chuckle, sucking on them once more before doing as you were told.

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You watched afar as your fiancé finished up her nightly routine. You can’t help but notice how some of your favorite parts of hers have grown. Her breasts and bottom have grown a bit thicker. She actually has a small hint of a tummy now and you can’t help but bite your lip at how sexy she looks. You remember that’s what happened with Quinn when she got- Neh that can’t be it. You shake the thought out of your mind.

“You okay?” Natasha asks as she walks back into your shared bedroom.

You nod, giving her a tired smile. She lays next to you, turning you by the chin.

“What’s wrong?”

“Quinn, wants me to try harder with Beth.” 

“She’s right.”

“I just don’t know how… I feel like every time I try she ignores me. Earlier today I went to pick her up from school, and she just walked past me. Her grades are struggling, and she’s giving Quinn a hard time. Agatha wants me to let her have a session with Beth.”

“Maybe that’s the best thing for her?”

You shake your head. “That means I’ve failed as a parent. I just need some more time.”

“You haven’t failed. That’s not what that means, but if you want more time to try and mend it yourself then okay.”

“I love you. I’ll fix this, I promise.” You say bringing her against you cuddling into her. 

“It’s just going to take some time.” Natasha reminds you.

You kissed her chest letting your fingers graze her thighs. Natasha brushes your hair back.

“Sometimes this doesn’t feel real.” She chuckles with a shake of her head.

“What doesn’t?” You stop your motions looking down at her.

“That we’re finally here together. You moved in with me,  and now we’re going to plan a wedding soon. It almost feels like a fairytale. Almost. It probably would be if you hadn’t been married, or I could have had children.” She sighs.

You kiss her nose not knowing what to say to that. You were married and you know how much it kills her to not be able to carry her own child.

“Did you tell Quinn?”

You cringed and shook your head.

“Y/N.” Natasha sighed, pushing you off of her.

“It’s too soon, but I will tell her.

“I don't know what I’m more upset about. You taking off your ring or not telling her.”  Natasha sighed sadly. 

“Nat, I will tell her. I just thought if I told her earlier she’d explode so I decided to wait.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“I’m sorry, I took off my ring for her. I’ll tell her soon I promise.”

Natasha nodded stiffly.

“One good thing though! She wants us to have the girls every other week. She said she won’t let Beth choose one place. Which hopefully will help.”

“We have to finish fixing up their rooms.” Natasha mentioned.

“Maybe tomorrow? I’m off anyway for the hearing. We can go to the store after?”

“Okay.” Natasha nodded.

“We still get to plan our wedding.” You grin. “Have you given it any thought?”

Natasha beams, unable to contain her excitement she jumps up. “Wait here!”

You chuckle sitting when she runs back in bed carrying a large binder. ”Whoa!” You raise your brows seeing a picture of you proposing on the cover.

“I have ideas!”

“That’s great baby. Show me.” You grin as she cuddles against you opening the binder.

“So, I always wanted an outdoor wedding. Preferably Spring or Fall. It has the perfect temperatures. Plus the trees and flowers are beautiful.”

“That sounds perfect.” You grin seeing a picture of what you suspect is the wedding from Twilight. “Are you walking down the aisle to Flightless Bird or A Thousand Years?”

“Don’t make fun of me.” She frowned, biting your arm.

“Ahhh, I wasn’t! You vampire.” You laugh.

“I was actually thinking maybe Can’t Help Falling In Love but the Kina cover.”

“She does a great cover.” You nod.

“Do you have one?” She asks, creating a wedding playlist and sharing it with you on her phone.

“Uhh yeah actually.” You reach over on the nightstand for your phone before quickly adding the song to the playlist. 

“Heartbeats by Jose Gonzalez. I don’t think I’ve heard of this.” Natasha smiled while playing.

“It’s a cover as well.” You add as you hear those familiar strums. “He’s one of my favorite artists.”

“It’s beautiful.” She whispers.

“The original is great too but it’s more fast-paced. What other songs were on your mind?”

“First Day of My Life.” She smiles, kissing your cheek as it plays.

“Ooo such a great song.”

She flips the page showing you the colors she was thinking of having. “You could be my something blue.” She smiled pointing at the blue tux.

“I love it!” You grinned. 

“Yeah?” She smiled.

“Nat, I want you to have the wedding of your dreams. Anything you want, I will make it happen.”

“I don’t think you should give me that much power.” The Russian woman smirks.

“You have all the power, Princess.” You say softly near her ear. Natasha shivers before bringing you in a kiss. “Now what about the honeymoon?” You smirk.

“I’m thinking somewhere private and very tropical. Bikinis or maybe no bikinis.”

“Sexy.”

“Maybe Bali?”

“Beautiful.”

“Belize, Costa Rica, or maybe Seychelles?”

“Any of them as long as we have endless sex, sunbathe with nonstop drinks, and great food.”

Natasha giggles, kissing you once more. “Yes to all of those ideas.” 

You attempted to flip the page but Natasha stopped your hand. 

“Those pages are dress ideas.” She smirked, gathering the pages by her fingernail and turning them as one.

“Ooooh food!” You grinned letting your eyes pour over the steak and chicken options. “Oh man, I love steak! Oooh is that a fajita plate? I love tacos!”

“Yeah, I even found an option for a pizza theme and a Sunday bar.”

“A Sunday bar?!” You gasped.

“Hmhm.” She hummed happily.

“Is that a chicken fried steak?” You grinned looking up.

“Yeah, I found one place that does more of a family-style dinner.”

“Fuck, I’m hungry now…” you look up at your fiancé.

“Baby, we just had dinner.”

“Yeahhh I know.” You sighed.

Natasha turned opening her nightstand handing you some mini chocolate bars.

“Ooooh!” You ripped into it taking a bite before offering the other half to your girl.

“Thanks, baby.” She took the last bite as you turned the page.

“Oooh flowers.”

Natasha yawned.

“Here we can look again tomorrow, let's get some sleep.” You smiled, shutting the binder and placing it on your nightstand. 

You both lay down intertwining your legs and facing one another.

“I love you Detka and I can’t wait to marry you.” Natasha kissed your cheek and stroked your hair.

“I love you too darling.”

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You were awoken in the early morning hours to Natasha jumping out of bed and running to the toilet.

You quickly lifted the sheets off running to your fiancé.

“No Y/N it’s so gross!“ Natasha groaned before throwing up into the bowl.

You held Natasha’s hair back as she emptied the contents of her stomach.

She groaned, leaning against the tub as you grabbed a small hand towel. She watched as you ringed out the water, placing it on her forehead.

“I’ll be right back.”

You rushed downstairs grabbing a cup of water, ginger ale, and some saltines before running back upstairs. You set it on the dresser before opening it and grabbing a fresh set of clothes.

If she weren’t feeling like absolute garbage she’d comment on how sweet and doting you are with her. You had helped her change into a fresh set of clothes and even got her toothbrush and mouthwash ready.

“Nat, are you sure you can’t get pregnant?” You found yourself asking as you wiped the sweat from her forehead.

“Yes… well. That’s what the doctor said.”

“It’s just that Quinn went through this twice. I know morning sickness when I see it. Also, that woman from our trip said she could tell you were pregnant, and I’m not being mean baby, but your moods have been swinging lately. Again not being mean but your body is-

“My body is what?” Natasha quirked her brow. “Tread lightly Y/L/N.

“You’re slightly thicker in a great way if I may add. I just would feel better if we got you checked out.” 

Natasha smiled at your concern and agreed. She knew in her heart she wasn’t pregnant, but if you were this worried about her. Then she’d do it just to ease your worries. Even when the eventual negative test hurts her heart.

“Okay.” She nodded.

“I’ll see if they have an opening after the hearing.”

“Babe?” Natasha kinked her brow with an amused smile on her face.

“Huh?”

“I can call my gyno.” She chuckled.

“Right.” You nodded, hitting your head.

“Get ready for court and I’ll call.” She smiled.

You leaned in to peck her lips only for her to turn her head.

“Wha-“

“Y/N, I just puked my guts out.” She glared.

“You brushed your teeth and had mouthwash.”

“Hnhn.” She shook her head negatively.

You chuckled and pecked her temple instead.

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“You both agree to equal custody of the children?”

“Yes.” You and Quinn spoke in unison.

Soon you were both signing an agreement and walking out of the courthouse.

“That was easier than I thought it would be.” You sighed.

Quinn nodded quietly.

“Quinn?”

The blonde looked up holding back her tears. 

“Thank you for not fighting me on this.”

“I couldn’t do that to you.” She replied.

You nodded looking down at the court documents.

“It’s all real now.” She said softly looking down at your ring-less finger.

“It’s better this way. You and I lost our way years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” She whispered as your eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I hurt you. I’m sorry I took your career away.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“For what? I’m the one who ruined us.” She scoffed, wiping her tears.

“I fell for Natasha while being married to you. Even after all our fighting I still feel guilty for being with her while we were married. Separated but still.” You say.

“Can I ask you something?” Quinn’s eyes were a soft hazel.

“Of course.”

“When did you start falling for her?” 

“Well, I know, I was attracted to her on my birthday and it just grew into love.”

Quinn nodded, she knew it would hurt to ask but she couldn’t help herself.

“I’m sorry.” You cringed.

“Don’t be.” The blonde shook her head.

Quinn hugs you and you hug her. 

“I’m gonna go pick up, Fin, and have lunch with my sister,” Quinn said.

“I’m gonna go get things for their rooms.” You reply.

“You know they can bring some stuff from home too.”

“Yeah, but it sounds bad to have them lug things back and forth.”

She nodded, crossing her arms.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” She agrees.

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“Hey, baby.” You smile as Natasha hops in the truck.

“Hi.” She smiles leaning in to kiss you only for you to lean back.

“Eh, I don’t know, you threw up earlier.” You joked.

Natasha slapped your shoulder. 

“Kidding.” You chuckled.

“Kiss your fiancé hello.”

“My pregnant fiancé.” You grinned, kissing her softly.

“Y/N, don’t get your hopes up please.” She says softly, buckling in.

“I don’t know, Nat, the signs don’t lie. Plus, I didn’t tell you this but I had a dream. It just seemed too real.” 

“What did you dream about?” She asks as you start driving.

“Well before you got sick this morning I dreamt I was holding our son in my arms. He had your eyes.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You grinned.

Natasha bit her lip looking out the window. She was so afraid you would not want to be with her when the negative test inevitably appeared.

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You both hardly had to wait long. Soon Natasha was on the bed feet in the stirrups with lubricant being rubbed on her belly.

It wasn’t until a heartbeat echoed in the room.

“Looks like you’re in your first trimester. Everything is normal for 9 weeks.”

“Wait… did you say- Is that a baby?“ Natasha sputtered.

“You’re 9 weeks pregnant.” The doctor smiled widely. 

You both looked at one another. It had been 9 weeks since the first time you had sex. You knocked her up on the first try. You wanted some time with her before you even thought about kids. To be honest, you have 2 girls and you always wanted more, but you wanted just some time with Natasha to yourself.

You briefly remember a vasectomy pamphlet Santana snuck in one of your stockings for Christmas one year.

“Congratulations Mrs and Mx. Y/L/N. You’re going to be parents in about 7-8 months. Just start taking prenatal vitamins. I’ll have a few copies of the ultrasound made for you, and schedule you this time next month in 3 weeks; for a checkup.”

“Wait, I have so many questions!” Natasha huffed.

Her doctor chuckled and nodded. “Of course go on.”

“First off how?! I tried years ago through insemination. They told me after testing that my eggs and my uterus just weren’t fertile. Second, I have been drinking. Not a lot, but I have. How bad will that affect our baby?”

“Well for the first question, there’s a small chance the tests could have been inconclusive, swapped, or maybe you weren’t fertile at the time due to stress. There’s a multitude of reasons that could have happened. As for your second question, it happens more than you think as long as you stop now, and begin your vitamins. Your baby should be just fine. Any more questions?”

“No, that’s all, thank you.” Natasha shook her head.

“Well if you do feel free to send me a message through the medical app, and I will get back to you right away. Have a great day and congratulations to you both again.” With that the doctor left you and Natasha alone together.

“Wow.” You said looking at the video image of your baby. 

“I’m pregnant.” Natasha smiled, feeling tears prick her eyes. Her hands cupped her stomach.

“You’re pregnant.” You chuckled, covering her hand with yours.

“We’re having a baby Y/N.” Natasha whispered a beautiful smile on her face.

You both let out a soft chuckle thinking of a future with a baby in your life.

You both blatantly ignore the fact that you both only got together 9 weeks ago, and you were very much still married at the time.

“You owe that woman from our trip an apology.”

Natasha laughed as you both walked out hand in hand. Soon you were helping her in the truck. 

“I’m only 9 weeks pregnant,” Natasha smirked, biting her lip as you retracted your hand to help her in.

“Right.” You chuckled, backing off, you distinctly remember Quinn slapping your arm every time you tried to help her in the car.

“It’s okay детка.” She chuckled, bringing you back down. She kissed your lips softly. “You’re just taking care of me.”

“I’ll always take care of you and our kids.” You whispered against her plump lips.

“Hmm, thank you malysh.”

“Come on Mommy, let's get your vitamins and check out the new baby fads.” You smirked before closing the door.

“Mommy.” Natasha whispered a ghost of a smile appearing as she touched her stomach. Everything was finally happening for her all at once. She has her soulmate, you’re both engaged and now she’s pregnant. Something she always wanted but never thought she’d get.

You were both at the local pharmacy picking up the vitamins when you walked into an infant store a few doors down.

“детка look at this!” Natasha gasped, lifting a tiny onesie that said ‘Gingersnap Fresh Out The Oven’. You were desperately hoping your baby would come out looking like Natasha.

“That’s perfect.” You chuckled subtly, taking one of the onesies and setting it near the cashier with a wink. You walked away to keep looking.

“Whoa, this has gotta be the Cadillac of pumps!” You chuckled while lifting the product. “It’s a wireless breast pump!”

“Makes pumping so much easier!” The woman at the cash register gushed. “I haven’t seen you two in here before. I’m going to assume you’re expecting. If you haven’t done your baby shower yet we do have a registry so whenever you’re about ready maybe keep us in mind.” She smiled.

“Of course.” Natasha smiled back, taking your hand. Oh my God, I get a baby shower. She internally squealed.

Natasha was currently looking at all the pregnancy books. She wanted all of them.

“I still have a few books if you want them.” You say softly remembering where you put them in the attic. 

“Okay only if Quinn doesn’t want them.” She nodded. “Do you have this one?” ‘What to expect when you’re expecting.’

“I had no idea there were editions.” You chuckled gulping, taking the book from her hand.

After buying your fiancé nearly every book in the store. You stopped at a restaurant knowing she needed to eat. You slyly slid a small bag across the table.

“детка you're the sweetest.” She smiled, taking your hand.

“You haven’t even opened it yet.” You laugh.

“Everything you give me is special.” She winked subconsciously, setting her hand over her stomach before bringing it up to open her gift. She gasped seeing the onesie she was in love with. “I thought you said no clothes or gadgets until our next appointment.” She smirked.

“Come on, you know I couldn’t leave the store without getting a ginger onesie.” You smirked, kissing the back of her hand.

“I love you.” She stood leaning down to kiss you.

“I love you too.” You smiled in the kiss before she sat back down.

“Now let’s get the girls things for their rooms.”

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You were both cuddling after a long day of exciting news and getting the rooms ready for the girls.

“I was thinking.” She spoke softly into your chest.

“Hm?” You hummed trying not to fall asleep.

“I think it’s time for me to meet your parents as your fiancé. I wanna meet them before I start expanding like a balloon.”

“Really?” You inhale looking down at her.

“Yeah! I wanna see where you grew up, and get to know your parents!” She smiled, kissing your shoulder.

“That’s awesome! Maybe we can spend Christmas with them?!”

“That’s a great idea, detka.” Natasha smiled, kissing your cheek. “We can tell them they're going to be grandparents again on Christmas!”

“Alright.” You chuckled. “I’ll call up my parents, and buy the tickets. “Does this mean I finally get to meet the infamous Alexei and Melina?” You grinned.

“You want to go to Russia?” She grinned.

“Well, I thought maybe we can pull the trigger and bring them down here for good.” You shrugged. 

“Really?” She beamed.

“Yeah, maybe we can get them down here next month. We just need to talk to Thor about a job and I’ll talk to Tony about Melina to see what he thinks. Plus we can get them an apartment for now until they figure out another place to live. Our place is gonna be pretty packed now with our little one coming.”

“Okay.” She sighed contently, laying her forehead against yours.

“Everything is happening so fast.” You chuckle.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Natasha asked hesitantly.

“God no! I just can’t believe how quickly everything is coming together. First, us getting together, my divorce going through quickly, us getting engaged, and then moving in together. Now you’re carrying our first child, and soon your parents will finally be getting their green card. Everything is slowly falling into place.”

“You’re going to be a daddy again.” Natasha smiles, pecking your lips and scratching your abs.

“Hmm, I got you on the first try.” You chuckled squeezing her ass.

 “Hmm yeah, you did daddy.” Natasha husks kissing your lips before straddling you rubbing herself against you feeling you growing beneath her.

“Fuck, baby. You wanna ride daddy now?” You smirk squeezing her hips as she arches her back.

“Hmm you’d like that wouldn’t you daddy? Mommy riding this thick long dick?”

“Fuck yes, I would.” You groan. 

“Hmm, then I guess you better tell Quinn you’re engaged to a pregnant woman. Because until then you won’t be enjoying this ride.” 

Suddenly she is up and lying beside you.

“Wait what?!” You sit up.

“You heard me.”

“Babe, seriously? You get me hot and bothered, and now you're withholding?!” 

“Guess you better tell her soon, I know you can’t go long without being inside me.” She smirked.

“That’s so unfair! Babe?” You chuckled in disbelief. “Come on Nat you know I’ll tell her.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow I’ll tell her tomorrow. I promise. Come on baby we’re gonna have the girls for the weekend and the week. We may not get to have sex again.” 

Natasha contemplates her decision as she purses her lips.

“Come on baby, please? I love you so much and I just wanna show you how much tonight. We heard amazing news today and Daddy wants to celebrate with mommy so badly.” You coo, kissing her hand and up her arm.

Natasha giggles she wants to hold her ground and deny you, but you’re too irresistible.

“I’ll tell you what.” She smirks. “I’ll give you what you want but Y/N, I’m warning you now if you don’t tell her tomorrow. I will nut punch you the way you did Scott.” 

“Yes ma’am.” You nod in agreement. “Wait, I'm only telling her we’re engaged. Mom always said it’s bad luck to tell people you're pregnant until after the first trimester.”

“That’s fine. It kind of sucks though. I’m finally pregnant and I have to wait another 3 weeks to tell people?”

“i mean… you can if you really want to. The reason most people wait is to make sure the risk is down by the first trimester.”

Natasha nodded, taking your hand.

“I can’t wait to tell Yelena, my parents, and our friends.”

“You’re going to be an amazing mother.” You say softly brushing her hair back, kissing her tenderly.

“Thank you, baby.” She muttered nibbling your neck. “I still can’t believe you got me pregnant on our first time together.” She smirked.

“Hmm, I remember every detail of that day.”

“You fucked me right all day and night.”

“You were in those little shorts and my cock was rock hard for you. I still remember how wet you were for me.“

“I was always soaked for you just like I am now.”

You groaned, tearing off each other's clothes. Natasha laid you down before lifting your member. She kissed you sloppily as her hand slowly pumped you. Soon Natasha left your lips and kissed her way down your taut body. Her tongue darted out as she licked your cock up and down and all around before opening her mouth. You hissed, holding her hair as she gagged you down. 

“Fuuuck!” You groaned looking at her in her sultry eyes as she bobbed her head. “That’s so good.” You sigh.

Natasha hummed feeling you throb inside of her mouth. Feeling you this way makes her gush. She sucks on you harder and harder, making you moan. 

Soon she feels the way you buck into her mouth gripping her head with both hands. You’re getting closer she can feel the way your abs twitch against her hand.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck I’m gonna-“

Natasha bobbed her head faster as she sucked you harder.

You groan as your dick cocked and unleashed your seed right on her tongue.

She pumped you slowly as you bucked and groaned in appreciation.

Natasha stuck her tongue out showing you your cum. Your cock twitched in the air still hard for her. She lathered your cum on your staff hearing you moan before straddling you.

”Wait baby, let me taste you first.” You hummed as she rubbed her slick sticky pussy against your cum ridden meat.

“You know how hot and bothered I get giving you a blow job. I need you inside me now.” She whined grinding down on you.

“As much as I wanna taste you I wanna please you more. Use me then babe.”

Natasha moaned, pushing you inside as she rocked back. “Oh my God, yes! Ugh, you fill me up so well baby!”

“Shhhhhhhiiiiiit Natasha!” You groaned, leaning against the headboard as she slid down your member.

“Hmm.” She hummed, arching her back as she flung her hair behind her shoulders.

You reach for her nipples letting your thumbs play with them before bringing your mouth around them. 

“Oh Y/N. Daddy.” Natasha wiggled around you. “I love you. You fill me up so good. I want you all the time, especially now that you’re mine.” She moaned loudly, picking up speed.

“You can have me anytime for the rest of our lives baby. I love you and the way you take all of me every time.” You wrapped your arms around her, kissing her with passion. 

“I love you. Fuck, Y/N! I love you so much!” She moaned as she began lifting a bit higher to stroke your cock.

“I love you too. I’m getting close.”

Natasha moaned loudly as she continued stroking you faster and faster.

“Hm, that's it, baby move with me.” You say against her lips helping her lift up and down.

Soon she cried out as she paused her motions constructing around you.

“Ohhh fuck.” You groaned feeling your seed shoot inside of her.

You both panted and shook in the aftershocks of pure bliss. She lifted up and down riding it out. You also pumped inside of her a bit more before she lifted off you.

“Ahhh.” You hissed feeling your spunk land on your cock. You looked down gathering it all on your dick. “Oh baby, this is one of my favorite parts.” You bit your lip as you watched your fiancé take your cum ridden member and taking you back inside of her.

“Oooohh fuuuuuuck that’s it, fuuuuck that’s it.” You groaned feeling your toes curl.

“I want your cum deep inside me. I wanna have all of your babies.”

“If I could toss an extra bun in the oven I would baby. Fuck you feel so good.” You say pushing up and laying her down.

“Yessss!” Natasha began groaning as you thrust inside of her. “Fuck you’re so sexy daddy!” She moaned rubbing your flexing abs.

”That’s alllll you love.” You smirk letting your hands rub her hourglass of a body. “You’re gonna look so fucking good when your belly gets bigger.” You pant.

“Yeah?” She moaned.

“Fuck yes! Your boobs and ass are gonna be so fucking thick. Not to mention your pussy is gonna feel soooooo fucking good. I can’t wait.”

Natasha smirked, bringing you down with her legs.

Your moans grew louder and the sound of the bed creaking spurred you both on. 

“Shit, shit, shit, baby I’m gonna-“ Natasha let out a porn-worthy moan as she shook in your arms.

You hissed pulling out as she squirted against your abs. “Fuuuck that’s it, baby.” You smirked as she jolted feeling your cock against her little bundle of nerves.

“One more time baby for daddy?”

“Hmm yes, daddy.” She whined.

Your pussy monster is holding back. It wants to become a cave person and celebrate breeding your fiancé. They want nothing more than to flip her over and fuck her silly, but she seems so tired from her last orgasm. You have to tame the pussy monster inside of you.

“Don't worry baby girl daddy will go nice and slow.” You say getting into the missionary position entering her once more.

“Ohhhhhh daddy.” She groaned as you suckled on her sweet spot.

“Daddy’s got you sweetheart.” You grunt thrusting deep inside of her.

“Ugh, Daddy I already feel so full.” She whined.

“Daddy’s getting closer. Just a few more strokes inside this magnificent pussy you have. It’s so fucking perfect.”

“Keep going daddy make me cum again.”

You kiss her lips keeping a steady pace as she begins to meet your thrusts.

“Fuck I’m about to cum already.” You huff.

“Rub my clit daddy I’m getting there.”

You reach below rubbing against her clit with her hand on yours.

“Ohhhh! Ohhhhhhhh! Yesssss Y/N fuck yes! Ohhhh daddy!”

“Oh, baby!” You moan with her feeling your cock sputter inside of her. You hiss, thrusting little by little until your high lightens up.

You both kiss softly. “I love you so much.” You whisper.

“I love you so much.” She replies sleepily.

“I’ll clean up love.”

She hums in response.

You leave to grab a damp towel wiping her body clean before grabbing a fresh set of sheets.

You lift her up, placing her on the chair with some panties and your shirt before changing the bedding.

“You're so sweet Y/N.” She yawns as you lay her back down.

“I love you, baby mama.” You chuckle seeing her smile sleepily. You lean down kissing her stomach before circling around her.

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“Mommy where we goin’?” Fin asked as Quinn finished packing some clothes and toys in her pack pack.

“You’re gonna go stay with papa for a week.”

“Papa?” Fin furrowed her brows. “You're not coming?”

“No baby, but I will be right here if you need me. Beth and Ollie are going with you too.

“Otay.” The toddler replied in confusion seeing Ollie with his leash and all his things.

Quinn looked over at her phone seeing you knocking on the door. 

“Come on, your papa is here.” The blonde placed the Bluey backpack on her back and lifted her up. “Beth, come on.”

“This is stupid.” Beth groaned.

“Beth. Don’t start.” Quinn muttered, walking them down the stairs, and opening the door.

“Hi, girls.”

“Papa!” Finley beamed.

“Hi, Finny!” You littered her face with kisses before stepping inside.

“Hi, Beth.” You see her sitting on the last stair.

She looked up from her book to briefly roll her eyes at you.

“Lovely.” You sighed, before turning to your ex-wife. “You cut your hair. It looks great!” 

“Thank you.” Quinn had chopped off most of her blonde locks leaving her with a bob. She always kept it shoulder length or longer because she knew you loved it that way. “I know you said you got their rooms ready, but I still packed them with some clothes and toiletries.”

“Thank you.” You nod.

“What’s wrong?” Quinn muttered leaning against the sofa.

“Nothing is wrong, I just… can we talk?”

“Uh, sure.” She nodded.

You put on Bluey for Fin sitting her on the sofa with some goldfish. Beth begrudgingly sat next to her before you took Quinn aside to the kitchen.

“There’s something I need to tell you.” You say not wanting to ruin the new vibe between you and your ex-wife.

“That doesn’t sound too good.” She chuckled while sitting at the table. “If it’s about you two being engaged I already know.”

“It’s not about- wait you know?”

“I think you forget that people post things on social media.”

“I was going to tell you-“

“I’m sure you were… wait you said that wasn’t what you were going to talk to me about.”

“I wanted to ask you if I could have the kids for Christmas and New Year's. I wanted to go back home to Lima to see my parents.”

Quinn’s eyebrows raised. “Uhh sure that’s okay.”

“Do you want to join us?”

“God no.” Quinn chuckled. “It’s funny that you brought that up, Rachel asked if I wanted to spend Christmas with her dads in Saint Martin.”

“Oh. That’s nice, really nice actually. You always wanted a tropical Christmas.” You chuckled.

“Yeah?” Quinn furrowed her brows.

“Yeah, it sounds relaxing and luxurious.” You grin.

“So you don’t mind?” She asks looking up at you.

“Of course not, I want you to be happy.” You smile.

Quinn nodded and after a beat said: “Thank you, I’ll have an early Christmas with them.”

“Great.” You nodded. “Well, we should get going.” 

Quinn nodded and watched you walk towards the girls.”

“Alright let’s go Fin, Beth.” 

Beth ran to her mother hugging her tightly.

“It’s okay Beth go.” Quinn nodded, caressing her cheek.

The young blonde nodded reluctantly following you out the door.

“No papa Bluey!” Fin whined. 

“We can watch it again soon I promise. Beth, let's go grab Ollie.” You say again opening the door.

As you were all walking next door Finley spoke up.

“We go to Nattys?” Fin wrinkled her brow.

“Yeah, bub we live there now.”

“But I also live with mommy?”

“Yes, you also live with mommy. You have two homes now. One with mommy and one with papa.”

“Two?” Fin tilted her head as you walked up the steps.

“Yes, bub.”

The toddler was silent for a moment almost as if the young gears in her mind were spinning.

“Hmm smells good!” You say stepping inside.

Natasha took a deep breath smoothing out her clothes before stepping into the living room.

“Natty!” Fin beamed, wiggling in your arms. You set her down and she dropped her backpack. 

“Hi, Finny!” Natasha catches your toddler in her arms lifting her up.

You bent down picking up the backpack to see Beth looking down at her feet. You reach over gently, taking her hand. “I know this is a lot. I know you’re still upset, but thank you for being here. We can work through this together.”

Natasha watched as Beth nodded letting a couple tears fall on her sneakers.

“Nat and I just want to be here for you one step at a time.” You whisper, wiping her tears away. “Let’s put away your things and come back down for dinner.”

You lead Beth to her new room as Natasha follows with Fin in her arms.

Natasha smiled to herself seeing Beth’s eyes widen at her new room.

She had a nice bed with a cute comforter set and a bookshelf you built and painted for her. As well as a nice pc setup. 

“Bethy look!” Fin giggled pointing to your neon sign on the wall.

“Beth, I know you have another room right next door, but we want this to feel like home too.”

The young blonde nodded, lifting a photo frame of her and her friends at soccer practice. Another of her and your parents, and one with the three of you in the pool.

“Thank you,” Beth spoke softly.

Before you or Natasha could speak, Fin spoke up.

“My room now?”

“Sure.” Natasha chuckled.

Beth set her duffle bag down and followed the three of you to the next room. 

Natasha set the toddler down. 

“Bluey!” She squealed, pointing to the stuffies on her bed. “Look Bethy! Big Lego!” Fin gasped, seeing a Lightning McQueen track set and a small toy box. Fin quickly grabbed Lightning and placed him on the track. She giggled and squealed as she raced to the end.

“You both have a conjoined bathroom as well.” Natasha added.

Beth looked in, nodding at the cute colors Natasha picked out.

“Alright, bubs let’s go eat.”

“Awww.” Fin frowned. 

“We can play again later, Finny. Let’s eat first.” Natasha spoke lifting the toddler up in her arms

“Aw, Natty nooo.” Fin whined.

“No dinner, no dessert.” You say.

“Desert?” Fin perked up as you all made your way downstairs.

“I thought that we could all make our own pizza.” Natasha smiled, shrugging. “I made the base sauce and I laid out all the toppings.”

You set Finley in her high chair with her dough. She squealed when she squeezed the dough.

The hint of a smile on Beth’s face did not go unnoticed by Natasha.

“For dessert, I made us a cheesecake.”

“Hmmmmm.” Fin, looked like a cartoon looking at the cheesecake. She even had a little drool on her lip. 

Beth giggled, wiping her face. Natasha took that as a win.

“After dinner, I thought we could have a Mario Kart championship. The winner gets an extra slice of cheesecake.”

“Ohhh you are all going down!” You bellowed.

“Please I’ll hit you with the blue shell.” Beth scoffed.

“I’ll just do a spin move.” You shrugged.

“You mean on the banana peel?” Beth smirked.

“No, I win, I win!” Fin giggled.

Natasha smiled seeing the three of you laugh as you roll out your dough.

“Beth you gotta do the spinny thing.” You said tossing your dough in the air.

Beth laughed and threw hers in the air as well.

“Me too, me too!” Fin giggled only for hers to end up on her head.

“That’s just too cute.” Natasha smiled as all three of you snapped a photo.

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“Hmm, tasty.” Fin nodded, as Natasha helped feed her. “I do it now Natty, I do it.”

“Ohh okay, you’re such a big girl.”

“Yes.” Fin nodded watching you eat yours from the side of the crust and took a bite.

You reached under the table taking Natasha’s hand and giving it a light squeeze. You had both decided to keep the PDA in front of the kids at a very low state. It kinda killed you both a bit as neither of you can keep your hands off the other. Especially right now when you just want to kiss her cheek.

“Thank you. For all of this. It’s pretty awesome.” You grin.

“Tank you, Natty.”

“Thank you.” Beth said softly.

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“Alright, this is it.” You grin nudging Beth. 

Natasha looked down at her phone and picked it up.

“It’s Yelena.” She said to you.

You nodded and looked back at the game.

“Hey.” Natasha answered.

“Hi Cestra, how’d your first night as stepmother go?”

“It’s still going but it’s been great so far.”

“That’s great! Has Beth talked to you?”

“Not really but she seems to be having a good time.” Natasha smiles seeing you both laughing and playing the game as Finley plays with Ollie. It was killing her not to tell her sister about the baby.

“She just needs more time just don’t be all over Y/N, and she won’t murder you in your sleep.”

“Lena.” Natasha rolled her eyes.

“I’ll let you go. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

With that Natasha walked over to the sofa sitting down to watch the two of you play.

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“Natty I not deepy.” She shook her head playing with her stuffies.

“You’re not?”

“Hmhm, I stay up late.”

“Ohh okay, well how about I read this to you for a bit then you can keep playing.”

“Oooo okay.” She nodded seeing the book she loved.

You pecked Finley’s temple and kissed Natasha’s cheek before moving on to Beth.

You leaned against the panel seeing her messing with her computer. “Gonna keep playing? Was the win not enough?” You chuckled seeing her smirk.

“Just getting everything set up.” Beth replied, not looking up from the computer.

“Well I’m going to bed but if you need anything feel free to wake me up. I’m just down the hall.” You nodded.

“Goodnight.” Beth replied looking over.

“Night, sweetheart.” You pecked her cheek and walked down the hall seeing Finley asleep and Natasha tucking her in. You grinned at your fiancé and took her hand.

You both started your nightly routines.

After brushing your teeth and doing some flossing, you held Natasha from behind.

“Thank you for tonight, it was perfect.”

“It really was.” Natasha smiled, through the mirror before she washed her face.

You bit your lip looking down between your bodies. You gripped her hips and ever so lightly rolled yours. You hiked up her nightgown a bit and kissed her exposed back. She chuckled as she dried her face and applied night cream.

She turned her chin kissing your lips which you took as an opportunity to wrap your arms around her and really let yourself dig into her.

“Hmm, not tonight baby. I don’t want to traumatize them on their first night here.” She smirked patting your shoulder as she walked away but you grabbed her and pinned her against the wall.

“Daddy can be quiet.” You say nibbling on her neck.

“Hmm, but mommy can’t.” She smirked hearing you groan. “When they leave back to their mother's house you and I can have a marathon of our own.”

“Aww, but that’s a week from now.” You groaned.

“Just think of every way you want me.” She husked.

“Oh wow.” You shuttered against her. She pecked your lips once more before sliding out from under you and sliding under the covers.

Natasha giggled at your frozen state seeing the tent you were pitching. “Babe come on cuddle me to sleep.”

“I just need a minute.” You squeaked.

Natasha chuckled as she watched you shuffle over to the toilet letting out a grunt and a long sigh.

You washed your hands and lotioned up before lying next to her.

“That was way too fast.”

“The image you gave me was enough.” You smirked bringing her over to you.

“No funny business.” She smirked.

“No funny business. Just cuddles.” You nodded, pecking her lips.

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You woke up to a poke on your cheek. “Hmm?” You hummed before opening your eyes seeing Fin and Ollie.

“Papa, I hungy.” Fin sang. 

“You don’t wanna snooze a bit more with papa?” You ask sleepily lifting her up in bed.

“No! I wanna watch Bluey now pwease.” She giggled, waking up Natasha. “Morning Natty!”

“Morning Finny.” Natasha yawned.

“It’s alright babe go back to sleep.” You yawned sitting up to stretch.

“It’s okay, I can start on her breakfast while you change her diaper.”

“Natty, I no wear diapers no mores! I’m a big girl!” She huffed glaring at her.

“Oh excuse me! I had no idea.” She chuckled.

“What do you want for breakfast bubs? Pancakes, eggys, or cereal?”

“Hmmm, cereal!” She jumped. “Bluey O’s!”

“Okay come on toots.” You picked her up heading downstairs Ollie hot on your heels.

You quickly let him out back while you make your toddler a bowl of cereal. You set the bowl on the coffee table and turn Bluey on.

You chuckle watching Fin jump and dance to the intro song when Natasha walks downstairs.

“Hey, baby.” You smile sleepily. Natasha smiles still sleepy as she brings Ollie back inside, and crawls into your lap with a blanket. 

You both watch TV with Fin as she eats her cereal. It wasn’t until the end when she turned around looking at you both snuggling.

“Done?” You smile.

“Um, why you both snuggly?” She tilts her head. “Why live here and not with mommy?”

“Fin, do you remember when Mommy and I sat you down and explained what divorce meant?”

“Hmm maybe.”

“Okay well.” You sit up and so does Natasha. “Even though Mommy and I live side by side we aren’t married anymore.”

Fin furrowed her brows once more.

“Daddy is with Natty now.” You gesture.

“Natty?”

You nod.

“Natty is mommy now?”

“Uh well…” you stammered.

“Your mommy is still Quinn. Technically I’m your step-mother.” Natasha added.

“Like cinder ellie?”

“Uh yeah, except she’s not evil or mean.” You chuckle.

“Okay.” Fin nodded before asking. “… can I get some of my toys?”

“Of course.”

Fin beamed before running upstairs and bringing down her Lego and plushy.

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The weeks went by quickly and soon you were planning on letting the people in your lives know about the bun in the oven.

“Where’s Beth and Fin?” Yelena asked as you all sat down in the living room.

“They’re with their mom.” You say.

“Oh okay I guess we’re drinking tonight then.” She smirked.

“Uhh about that-“ you chuckled.

“Y/N and I asked you over for dinner to let you know our holiday plans.”

“Okay?” Yelena chuckled.

“We’re going to be with my family down in Ohio, and of course, you are more than welcome to join us.” You say.

“We really want you to join us.” Natasha smiled.

“What’s up with you two?” Yelena smirked.

“Three.” Natasha smiled.

“Wait what?” Yelena furrowed her brows in confusion.

“What’s up with you three?” Natasha reiterated.

“What the hell are you-“ like a bulb going off Yelena jumped up realizing what her sister was trying to say. “No way?! You’re pregnant?!”

You and Natasha nod excitedly.

“Oh my gosh!” Yelena cheered jumping with her sister. 

You chuckled while taking a video Of them.

“I’m gonna be an aunt!”

“You’re gonna be an aunt!” Natasha cried, nodding.

“Oh my God!” Yelena and Natasha laughed joyfully as they hugged one another. 

“So now will you come with us?” Natasha asked

“Of course, I’ll come.” Yelena smiled, wiping her eyes.

“I just really want to meet Y/N’s parents again as an engaged couple, and of course let them know we’re having a baby.” Natasha couldn’t stop smiling as she held her tiny bump.

“I’m sure they’re going to be thrilled.”

“Oh for sure.” You chuckled.

“Have you told your ex-wife yet?” Yelena cringed.

“No.” You sighed. “I’m gonna have to tell her and then the girls.”

“Well, I’ll be here in case she wants to fight my sister.”

“She wouldn’t do that, but I don’t know how Beth will take it.”

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You invited Quinn out for lunch; you had both been making decent conversation until you finally told her as you both made your way to your truck.

“Quinn, Natasha is pregnant.”

Quinn’s smile slowly faded. It was silent and her stare went from your eyes to her ringless finger.

“That’s why you brought me here.” She whispered brokenly.

“Not the only reason.” You reach over taking her hands. “Quinn, I'll always have love for you, and I do miss our talks like this. Maybe we could do this more often and talk about our lives and the girls.”

Quinn squeezed your hand.

“Y/N, I love you too, always have, and I always will, but I need more time. We had been together since we were 15. You have no idea how much I miss you.” She said laying her hands on your abdomen. “I think about you all the time. When I’m cooking, when I’m putting the girls to bed, when I’m putting myself to bed.” She smirked, husking out the last part.

You cleared your throat with a light chuckle. Normally that would send you into a frenzy. The kind where you would have her mounted on your cock in no time.

“I’m sorry but I need more time. I love you Y/N. I love you enough to let you go. Can’t you love me enough to support me moving on too?” 

“Of course.” You smiled, taking her hand and kissing it softly. 

“So she’s pregnant huh?” She smirked as you two began walking once more.

“Hmhm.”

“Yeah, you probably should have warned her that you have magic sperm.” She chuckled. “You got me on the first try twice!”

You laughed nudging her shoulder.

“She’s really excited. She always wanted to have kids, but she honestly thought she couldn’t.” You explain.

“Oh, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah… Fuck Quinn how do I tell the girls? How do I tell Beth?”

Quinn sighed knowing too much was happening to fast for the girls to understand.

“I’m sorry Y/N, I don’t really know.”

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Quinn takes a deep breath as she knocks on the Russian’s door. 

“Oh hi, Quinn.” Natasha smiled; opening the door.

“I um… well I went through the attic this morning and thought these might help.” The blonde set the box on the side table.

“Y/N told you.” Natasha smiled in surprise before looking in the box. It was nothing but pregnancy books, and some old gadgets to baby-proof the house.

“They did, congratulations Natasha.”

“Thank you, Quinn.” She replied softly.

“Just a heads up, Y/N’s sperm is literally magic. Gets you on the first try every time.” They both chuckled. 

“How do you think the girls will take the news about the pregnancy?” Natasha asked hesitantly.

“I think Finley will be okay. She might not fully comprehend the situation, but she’ll be excited to be the bigger sister now. Beth… I’m not sure she’s a teen now. She’s constantly wanting to argue with me nowadays. Y/N and I are on unfamiliar ground with her lately.”

“Y/N was telling me.” Natasha nodded.

“I’m just so scared she’ll end up like me in high school.” Quinn sighed.

“Beth is a smart young lady. She has the best of both you and Y/N. There’s not much you two can do except trust her to remember what you’ve taught her.”

“Oh hey.” You smiled seeing your ex-wife and newly dubbed baby mama speaking.

“Hi.” They smiled at you. 

“Well, I hope the box helps, I should get going.” Quinn spoke.

“You sure? I brought Chinese.” You grinned holding up the bag of food.

“Carbs Y/N.” She grimaced, shaking her head. She turned back to Natasha gesturing towards the box.  “Oh, by the way, the cream in the box, I would start using it now.” She gave you a side hug before walking out the door. 

God that felt great and weird at the same time. You don’t realize you’re staring at your ex until she waves again entering your old home.

“It’s for stretch marks.” Natasha smirked, lifting the cream and gaining your attention.

“Oh yeah, that stuff really works. Quinn used to make me put it on her every night.”

You make your way to the kitchen when Natasha speaks up.

“I know we have been thinking of how to tell the girls I thought maybe we could tell them after your parents? Maybe closer to our flight home? That way if she needs space Quinn will be back home.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You nod, sighing. You just have a feeling Beth is not going to take this well.

[crowsofdarkness]

hey so i’m thinking about steve and bucky blind folding you and making you guess who’s cock is inside of you and if you get it down you don’t get to finish at all.

Hey so hear me out. Because when you do get it right, you get both. At the same damn time.

DVP, bondage, being blindfolded below the cut.

“Bu-Bucky! It’s Bucky,” you sputtered out, spit dribbling down your chin.

“Are you sure about that, doll?” Steve’s voice breathed against your ear.

Are you sure? Because you were wrong the last time, hence why you couldn’t cum. But you were certain it was Bucky now because the way head of his cock felt hitting that spot inside of you.

“I’m sure,” your voice wavered, showing that you were in fact not one hundred percent sure.

It has been going on like this for a while now, Bucky and Steve taking their turns fucking you and making you guess whose cock was inside of you. Not only were you blindfolded but your wrists and ankles were tied to the bed. You could see nor feel them. Besides their cock fucking you.

“That’s my good girl,” Bucky praised in your other ear and your heart soared in your chest because you finally got it right.

And you could finally cum.

“Can I cum now?” You practically begged.

Both Steve and Bucky chuckled darkly before one of them untied you, all while Bucky continued to fuck you with a slow pace, dragging it out.

“You did so well,” Steve said while brushing away the hair from your face and helped you sit up so he could slip underneath you.

You couldn’t see what they were doing but you knew that they were switching positions a bit. Bucky was still on-top of you, you could now feel his vibranium arm. Steve was underneath you.

“Pull out a bit, Buck. We gotta make room.”

You swallowed at Steve’s voice. “Make room for what?”

“We know how much you like it when we fill you up with one of our cocks and a dildo. Now since you did so well, we’re going to reward you with both of our cocks,” Bucky said, ghosting his lips over yours before pulling his cock almost all the way out.

You were so wet between your legs, both of them filling you up while denying your own release tonight. And you knew they both would fit but it would take some work. They’d been training you for this moment you realized.

“Do you want that?” Steve nibbled your ear.

“Please.” You moaned. “Please fuck me. Both of you. At the same time.”

“Our girl is so greedy,” Bucky clicked his tongue against his teeth.

“Don’t tense up. Just breathe, alright?” Steve’s comforting voice eased away whatever worry you had.

Doing what he said, you breathed and let your body relaxed as they worked together in sliding into you. It was a stretch, but one your cunt welcomed greedily. Steve’s cock slid in all the way first followed by Bucky, who let out a loud moan you were sure your neighbors could hear in the apartment next door.

“Fuck, this feels so good,” Steve grunted as he started moving inside of you.

Bucky agreed with another moan and soon, light filled your sight because he took off your blindfold. “I need to see those pretty eyes while Steve and I both fuck you.”

You were gone, so blissed out by being filled up with both of their thick cocks, all you could do was nod while you reached for Bucky to pull him close to you.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Hi gorgeous,

can you do Lando with teenager daughter who has diabetes or epilepsy and something happens at a race weekend and so Lando looks after her the whole time and makes sure she’s okay,

looking forward to it x

Sweet as sugar

The paddock buzzed with energy as the race weekend in Silverstone kicked off. The familiar scent of burnt rubber and gasoline filled the air, mixed with the excited chatter of fans and the occasional roaring of engines in the distance. It was one of Lando’s favorite places in the world—one that had felt like home for so many years.

But this weekend, his mind wasn’t on lap times or race strategy. It was on his daughter, Yn.

At sixteen, Yn was used to life in the paddock. She had grown up surrounded by F1, walking through garages, watching races from the pit wall, and sneaking into drivers' debriefs when she was little. But growing up in this world didn’t mean it was always easy—especially with her diabetes.

Lando had been overprotective of her ever since she was diagnosed as a child. He tried to act normal about it, but the truth was, he always worried. And now, as she walked beside him, scrolling on her phone, he glanced down at her every few seconds, just to make sure she was okay.

"You’ve checked your blood sugar, right?" he asked casually, adjusting the cap on his head.

Yn sighed, lowering her phone. "Dad, I literally just did."

"When?"

"Like, five minutes ago. It’s fine."

Lando squinted at her. "What’s the number?"

She rolled her eyes, pulling out her phone to show him. "5.8. Happy?"

He nodded, pretending not to be relieved. "Very."

Yn smirked. "You worry too much."

"Yeah, well," he muttered, "I have to. You’re my little girl."

She made a face. "Dad, I’m sixteen."

"You’re still little to me."

Before she could argue, they reached the McLaren motorhome, where the team was gathered. Oscar was already inside, sipping on a drink and reviewing some notes with the engineers.

"Hey, Yn!" he greeted with a wave.

"Hey, Oscar," she replied, sitting on one of the chairs and stretching her legs.

Lando sat down beside her, watching as she lazily scrolled through Instagram. Everything seemed fine, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen.

And unfortunately, he was right.

---

The first sign that something was wrong came a few hours later, during FP2. Lando was in the middle of a long run, focused on his pace, when his race engineer’s voice came through the radio.

"Lando, Yn is in the McLaren motorhome. She’s feeling a bit off. Wants to let you know."

Lando’s hands tightened on the wheel. His heart immediately jumped into his throat.

"What’s wrong?" he asked quickly.

"She said she’s a little shaky. The team’s keeping an eye on her."

Lando was already making a decision before they could say anything else. "I’m boxing this lap."

His engineer hesitated. "Are you sure? We still have—"

"I said I’m boxing," Lando snapped, already heading toward the pit lane.

As soon as he pulled into the garage and hopped out of the car, he ignored the confused looks from the mechanics and jogged straight to the motorhome.

When he entered, he found Yn sitting on one of the couches, looking pale. Her hands were slightly trembling, and she was chewing on a glucose tablet.

"Yn," he breathed, kneeling in front of her. "What happened?"

She looked up at him, her face slightly flushed. "I think my blood sugar dropped too fast. I felt fine earlier, but then I got all shaky, and my vision went weird."

Lando ran a hand through his hair, his heart pounding. "Did you check it?"

She nodded, holding out her phone again. "It was 3.1. It’s going up now."

He exhaled sharply. "Shit, Yn."

"I’m fine, Dad," she reassured, trying to smile. "I just need a minute."

But Lando wasn’t convinced. He stood up and immediately turned to one of the McLaren team members. "Get me another juice box and something with fast-acting carbs."

"Already on it," they replied, hurrying off.

Lando turned back to Yn, sitting beside her this time. He watched her closely, still frowning. "Did you feel it coming?"

She hesitated. "Kind of. I thought I was just tired."

His stomach twisted. "You should have told me earlier."

"Dad, you were driving," she pointed out.

"That doesn’t matter," he shot back. "I don’t care if I’m in the middle of a qualifying lap, Yn. You call me. Immediately."

She sighed. "It wasn’t that bad."

"It could’ve been."

She opened her mouth to argue, but the worried look on his face stopped her. She knew that expression too well.

"You were scared," she murmured.

Lando swallowed, glancing away for a second before nodding. "Yeah."

A McLaren team member returned, handing her another juice box and some crackers. Lando made sure she ate all of it before speaking again.

"I don’t want you wandering around the paddock alone today," he said firmly.

Yn frowned. "Dad—"

"No," he cut her off. "I mean it. You stay with me or with someone I trust. I don’t want this happening again when no one’s around."

She looked frustrated, but deep down, she understood. "Fine."

He relaxed slightly, but he still wasn’t done worrying. "And you need to check your blood sugar more often. Even if you feel fine."

"Okay," she agreed softly.

Lando let out a breath. "Good."

There was a brief silence before she nudged him. "You abandoned FP2 for me, didn’t you?"

His lips twitched. "Of course I did."

She grinned. "That’s kind of badass, not gonna lie."

Lando rolled his eyes. "I just love you, idiot."

Yn leaned her head against his shoulder. "I love you too, overprotective dad."

For the rest of the weekend, Lando did not leave her side.

He made sure she checked her blood sugar constantly. He made sure she ate properly. He even carried an emergency snack pack in his racing suit, just in case.

Yn found it both annoying and endearing.

"Dad, I promise, I’m fine," she said for the hundredth time, standing beside him in the paddock as they watched Oscar’s FP3 run on the screen.

Lando crossed his arms. "Yeah? And what’s your blood sugar right now?"

She sighed dramatically but pulled out her phone. "6.2."

He nodded approvingly. "Okay, good."

Yn smirked. "Do I get a prize?"

"Your prize is me not lecturing you."

"Damn. What a reward."

Lando gave her a look, but his eyes were still filled with warmth. "Brat."

The weekend continued with him hovering over her at every turn. Even after the race, when he finished P3 and had a podium to celebrate, his first instinct was to find her.

And when he spotted her in the McLaren hospitality, watching him with a proud smile, he grinned back and pointed directly at her before stepping onto the podium.

Because at the end of the day, no trophy or champagne shower mattered more to him than his daughter.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♥︎♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey loves. I hope you enjoyed reading this story. My requests are always open for you.

-🩷🎀