#team washclothes

[alwaysbewoke]

[meangirls-imagines]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowgirl('s abs)

requested by @jjsmaybank20: "Hey! Can I request a Regina x reader fic where reader is on the soccer team and has serious muscles, including and, and Regina is like really attracted to that? And they end up having sex and Regina riders the readers abs?"

WARNINGS: 18+ only pls. ab riding. regina being a bottom. reader being kinda cocky.

"oh fuck, that feels so good."

pleasure shot through her body at each roll of her hips. blonde hair stuck to sweaty skin as tattooed hands guided gentle curves up and down the defined ridges of a taut abdomen. 

regina george never saw herself ending up in this position. she was the apex predator, she was the queen. yet here she was, half-naked and riding the "badass" of north shore's abs like there was no tomorrow. 

"god gina, you're so fucking pretty like this. keep going baby, use me." the blonde whimpered at the sound of y/n's voice, deep and sultry. god, what was this girl doing to her? y/n's tattooed hand moved from her hip, reaching back and grabbing a handful of regina's ass, squeezing.

regina threw her head back, moaning loudly. she began to grind faster, chasing her high. y/n smirked and allowed her to speed up for a few seconds, before grabbing her hips and slowing her down. regina whined, the high she was chasing slowly fading away. 

"not yet baby. just a little longer." regina let out a frustrated groan as she began her movements again. she hated when y/n teased her. the blonde whimpered as her clit throbbed. she needed a release, and she needed it soon. y/n smirked at how desperate the blonde on top of her looked. 

she knew regina needed to let go of the control she had. yes, she was the queen bee, but everyone needed to relinquish control sometimes. when her and regina started dating, it was hard for the blonde to relinquish her dominance. 

but y/n helped her learn that she didn't need to be the queen bee behind closed doors. and everyone at north shore could see and feel a difference when regina walked through the halls now. 

sweat began to drip down regina's forehead as she sped up her movements once again. she could feel her orgasm slowly building again as y/n began to kiss her neck. regina threw her head back, giving more access to the skin as y/n sucked marks into her neck. "my beautiful girl, you look so perfect right now. i bet you're just aching to cum aren't you? beg me for it baby."

regina began to ramble. "please y/n, i need to cum. it's been hours. i need it so badly baby. i'll do anything for you to make me cum." y/n smirked at how blissed out regina looked and sounded. she felt cocky that she was the only one who could make regina feel as good as she did right now.

feeling as if regina earned it, y/n leaned up and whispered in regina's ear.

"cum."

regina saw white. her ears were ringing with how hard she came. her legs shook and she let out a scream (y/n thanked everyone above that regina's mom was gone). regina had never cum so hard in her life. her limp body melted into y/n's embrace as the girl held her tight and whispered sweet nothings in the blonde's ear. 

y/n had rolled over, laying regina down on her massive bed, getting up and grabbing a washcloth from her bathroom. returning to the bed, she continued whispering praise to the blonde as she gently cleaned her delicate area with the cloth, shushing whimpers from the girl. 

feeling satisfied with her work, she grabbed some of her boxers and an oversized t-shirt for regina to wear, stripping down to her boxers and sports bra, before sliding under the covers next to the blonde. 

instantly, regina nuzzled herself into y/n's side, burying her face in her neck. y/n smiled and kissed the blonde's forehead. "i love you gina. so fucking much." regina smiled against y/n's neck, mumbling sweet "i love you too" before slipping off into dreamland.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#382

“Oh, sorry to startle you there.  You must be Robby Anderson.  Coach Thomas said that I could use the Away Team locker room for the privacy in showering and cleaning up.  He also said that you might be lurking in here.  No, no.  You don’t have to leave or even cover up.  I have been in many locker rooms and around naked young men all my life.  You have nothing I haven’t seen before.  In fact, I’m about to take a shower.  Join me….

“I’m Doug Mason.  I’m a scouting for local high school football talent.  I’ve been watching a number of your school’s players in the heat.  I am really in need of this shower. 

“Damn these socks have my stinky foot sweat.  Hoo-wee!  They are nasty.  Wanna take a sniff?...  Sure you do.  Take them….  I said ‘Take them!’  Hold them up to your nose and inhale deeply….  You like that smell hunh?...  Of course you do.  You are tenting in your shorts.

“Take them off.  Let me see your pecker….  Look it’s just us.  And I already know you are a sperm burper.  Coach Thomas told me….  What?  You didn’t know he knew?  Well…

“Shorts!  Off!… 

“See that wasn’t hard.  Well, the decision wasn’t hard, but your tiny pecker sure as hell is.  No, don’t hide it.  I like the look of it.  It’s small, but so are you.  You are what?  5’3” and 120 pounds?...  Yeah, I’m pretty good at sizing men up.  I was off by only a few pounds.  That pecker is what four inches?  For a small guy like you, it’s perfect. 

“Now me, I got a foot on you, and I’m more than double your weight.  And as you can see by my bulge I my jock, I’m more than double your dick size.  Wanna see it?...  Of course you do.  Kneel in front of me.  Reach up and pull my jock down….  Slowly.

“Smell that?  That’s all-natural man sweat.  No. No. Not yet.  You’ll taste it in a bit.  I know you like the smell of men sweating.  But above all, I know you love to sniff ass.  Here’s mine. 

“Hairy, just the way you like it.  Reach up and pull my meaty cheeks apart.  Take a deep whiff.  Smells nasty hunh?  That’s what we are going to start with—you cleaning my shithole.

“But let’s do it where you normally clean Erich sweaty shithole, in the shower area.  Go.

“I’m really surprised that you haven’t asked me how I know so much about you.  I mean you are known to clean out rank shitholes and then take a pile driving in your cunt.  For a plain looking 18-year old senior in high school, that’s pretty amazing.  And you kept it quiet, even better.

“Lay wherever you normally do.  Get that tongue out, cause my ass is coming down to sit on your face….  It’s been a while since I played in a shower.  Stay still….  Oh man.  You are wasting no time; that tongue is going in deep.

“Coach Thomas doesn’t know that you are a world class pig under that meek, math nerd, submissive exterior.  I don’t know what it is about guys into math, but they are pretty much twisted as fuck. 

“Coach only knows that you hook up with quarterback Erich Schneider before and after each game, as part of some superstition thing that Erich has.  I talked with him... Erich.  You know he’s the reason why I’m out here.  Nobody else on the team is of the caliber that he is.

“I took him to lunch and I point blank asked him if he had a fag on the side.  He asked me how I found out.  I told him Coach Thomas.  He was panicked.  I said he’s known for a year or so, and that he’s not to worry as nobody has said anything.  His job is to make each player the best he can be.  And to do that he needs to know what a player is sticking in his stomach and what a player is sticking his dick into at all times.

“Get up.  Let’s get the shower going.  I want you to take this washcloth and wash me down.  Spend some time washing my cock.  I know you want to play with it.  But while you are doing that listen up.

“I’m a lot like your Coach.  If I’m going to offer a scholarship to a player, I need to know everything going on in that player’s life.  Having a faggot on the side can be a problem, but that depends on the faggot.  Having an ass eater faggot to improve one’s game performance is understandable.  Erich is ready to ditch you, but I have an idea.

“After talking with Coach Thomas, he says that you got into the university, but didn’t get in on scholarship.  He also said that your family can’t afford it, and yet make too much money for financial aid.  I’m going to make you an offer.

“As I said, I want Erich to come play for us.  If I can offer you as an incentive, he won’t be able to turn us down.  If you want to be one of our students, I can arrange to help you out.  But your primary purpose is to provide Erich whatever he needs: eat his ass before a game, fuck you after a win, or beat the fuck out of you after a loss.  Your holes are his to use as he sees fit.  You would still need to get a job to help support yourself.  And if anything should happen to break it off with you, the assistance I am offering would dry up in an instant.

“That’s option one.  Option two has all the same service to Erich, but you live with me and possibly one other fag on my ranch.  I live on six acres outside the county line about ten minutes from the main campus.  You would be servicing me as well.  I know you can take a face sitting.  I have seats made for that for you to lay under.  And you will take a mean fuck every day. 

“I love tiny fag boys like you.  Just look at my cock right now.  I am hard just thinking about it.  If the shower wasn’t going you would see my leak.  I wasn’t planning on fucking you, but you are too much for me not to.  Lather me up.

“If you live with me, I can arrange to get your schooling paid for.  I just need to whore you out to one of the administrators, actually two of them.  They can set it up so that all your tuition and fees are paid for.  You will need to get good grades.  I will control your study times as well.  You will be whored out to whoever I choose.  And I know a lot of men.  Someone with your size, cute looks, and demeanor will be in demand.  The fact that you are barely legal alone will have the men asking me.  And they will pay.

“Now reach behind you and lube up that cunt.  I need to take it for a ride.  If it’s not to my liking—kinda hard to believe—the second option is off the table.  At the end, when I pull my deflating cock out of your gaping cunt, you will let me know which option you want. 

“I can’t take it anymore.  Get on the floor, face down.  Don’t reach for your pecker.  In fact let me see your hands at all time.  There is only one dick that matters here, and it sure as fuck ain’t yours.

“I can fuck for hours, but this needs to be quick.  I need to get back to Erich and Coach Thomas.  You ready for some pile driving?  If not, I don’t care. 

“…Am I crushing you?  Aww.  Well you need to adapt to the cock in your cunt.  And this hole is definitely a cunt.  Men will use it for their pleasure.  Men will use you for their convenience.  That makes you a faggot.  Everyone else will think of you as gay, but you know that you are different.  You know that you need to be controlled and used by real men.

“Your cries echo in this shower, and it sounds like music.  I’m getting close.  Your guts are going to be flooded.  I’m gonna knock you up, knock you up real good.  Here it comes!  Here it comes baby!  Here it fucking cums. Here it cuuuuuuummmms!  Fuck yeah!  Uh, Uh!

“Fuck.  Fag.  Your cunt is gold.  You may be a small fag, but your cunt is deep.  Mmmm.  I could lay here all day on top of you.  But I need to pull out, and you need to clean off my cock.

“Get on your knees.  No, you are not cleaning me up with soap.  Open your mouth and take me in.  Clean up services are required of all faggots I’m control over.  It’s a courtesy to the men who just gave their loads. 

“Don’t think about it.  Just do….  Atta boy.  Did you think any further about my offers?  You want to be Erich’s ass eater on campus?  Or you want to be one of my boys? 

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.  I can see it in your eyes you want this life.  Good.  I’m going to transform you into one hell of a faggot cunt boy.

“You can tell your parents that you got a math scholarship, or whatever.  This starts next August.  That’s nine months away.  Until then, you will not pursue other men, at least ones I have not pre-approved of.  That does not apply to Erich, who you will never say no to. 

“You will report to Coach Thomas at the end of each school day.  You have gym as your last class.  That will make it easy.  He will provide any further instructions.  And he doesn’t require any pre-approval either.  Although I don’t think he will do anything; he doesn’t use current students.  He’ll watch out for you though.  I will guarantee, once you graduate in June, he will make a move on you.

“He and I have a long history together.  We both like the same type of fag boys, like you.  He and I belong to a group of men who like to share barely legal boys. 

“There’s a bunch of us meeting tomorrow night for hood night.  Everyone wears a hood, both faggots and men.  The only difference is the faggots are blindfolded.  I will take you there.  And you will be open to any man there.  They are not going to ask permission to use you.  But what will most likely happen is that you will be taken and used all night by one man to service his beercan dick.  That will be Coach Thomas.  Even with you hooded, he will still know it’s you, but if anything ever came out about it, he can plausibly deny that he didn’t know. 

“I can tell by how rock hard your pecker that you like the idea. 

“Erich doesn’t need to know anything about this network of men, including Coach Thomas.  I have yet to fully figure him out.  You will let me and Coach Thomas know if he does anything different.

“Your tongue bath on my dick feels so good.  But I need to get dressed.  Here take my socks.  They are yours.  When you are jacking off, I want you to inhale their rank smell.  I want you to think of me.  My jock is for another boy.  I’ll get you one of Coach Thomas’s jocks to enjoy as well.

“As of right now, you can jerk off as much as you want.  Use my socks or his jock to focus your thoughts and fantasies on us.  For the next nine months before you move in with me, you are going to spend a lot of time by yourself.  Jerking off and thinking of servicing us will keep you in the right head space.

“Oh look Erich is coming in….

“Erich!  I have some good news!  I have been authorized to offer you a full scholarship to come play with us, with your own private room in our dorm, and a stipend for meals.  That’s officially.  Unofficial, you were telling me that you are going to miss your ass eater here.  Well, he’s agreed to start the same time as you.  He’ll be staying with me.  I’ll make sure he will be available for you to use any time you need him throughout your time with us.  You could come by my place for privacy.  Or, if it’s close to game time, I have access to a private spot for you to use right by the field. 

“I told you that I could get him for you.  I’m quite known for getting the unspoken perks for my players.

“I know you have a ripe ass in need of some deep cleaning.  And you are right, the fag most definitely knows how to do it.  Thanks for letting me use him.  If I didn’t experience his talents, I would not have made him that offer.  I think this is a good situation for all.  I’ll be in touch later so we can celebrate over dinner.  Bring your family, your girlfriend, whoever you want.

“Fag, I will be in touch tomorrow about arranging that meeting.

“You two have fun.  I have to go talk to Coach Thomas about a coaching event he should attend tomorrow night.”

[wriothesleysgf]

𖹭 ࣪ 𓈒 ⊹ into moonlight — welt yang ₊ ◌ ۪ ࣪

ᝰ .ᐟ ꩜ . an insight into your unconventional realtionship with welt. — f ! reader , situationships , cunnilingus , fingering , squirting . ⟢ [ minors dni ! ]

some questioned why you chose to stay with the astral express crew rather than settling down and building a life somewhere in the cosmos. while you'd intended for this to be temporary, your relationship with a certain member of the team kept you in place.

but perhaps "relationship" per se wasn't the correct terminology. instead, the routine of sneaking into each other's rooms on the express just for a little bit of stress relief was closer to a situationship. neither of you wanted to ruin what you had, alas the question of "what are we?" remained unspoken.

after coming back from dealing with the events at the xianzhou luofu, welt was incredibly exhausted. however, he was craving being in your presence. that's why after the others had resigned to their beds for the night, he asked for you to sneak into his. it lead to you sat on the small desk in his room, any paperwork pushed to the floor. his hands lay flat on your inner thighs to hold them apart. his tongue was buried in the warm embrace of your cunt, mercilessly lapping at your juices.

the only breaks that you got were when he pulled back for a breath and reminded you to be quiet, convinced that your moans were loud enough to wake everybody else on the express. you couldn't help it, however. you'd lost track of how many times you'd already cum on welt's tongue. his lower face and your inner thighs were a mess of your slick and his saliva.

each movement of welt's tongue came with extreme precision, having done this dance enough times to know how to best toy with you. he reveled in your squirms and whimpers, continuing his assult on your sensitive cunt until he was satisfied.

as he pulled back to reposition his glasses, he noticed your fluttering hole begging for stimulation. welt couldn't bring himself to pull back from your puffy clit, so instead he slipped a couple of fingers into you as his lips wrapped around the bud once again. considering how large his hands are, it was an easy task for him to hook his fingers to best target your sweet spots. the man could feel how your thighs shook with additional vigor— he's be smirking proudly if his mouth wasn't preoccupied.

welt teased a little bit, swirling his hot tongue around your clit rather than offering direct contact as well as pumping his fingers at a painfully slow pace. once you tugged on his soft brown locks, he got the memo and sped up.

he sucked your sensitive bud, making you whine even louder. that progressed to purposeful licks targeted directly onto your clit, and thus he fell into a pattern of the both. he felt brave, adding an extra finger to your weeping hole. everything quickly became overwhelming, and welt used your body's reactions to gauge just how intense your overstimulation already was.

"one more f'me, princess," he's well and truly pussydrunk as he slurred his words. "y'r doing such a good job,"

welt's skillful lips return to your gooey core, and resume their assault. you babble broken phrases, loud moans escaping your throat. with his expert precision and unrelenting pace, you quickly come undone all over the man's face once again with a booming cry of his name. your fingers remain tangled in his hair, haphazardly bucking your hips so as to prolong your orgasm. he loses his mind when he watches you squirt, the liquid landing on his glasses.

by the time that you come down from your high, the pair of you are a mess. you're still on his desk, lower half covered in a mixture of fluids. welt cooes over you for a while. after such an intense session, he doesn't want to leave your side. this prompts him to lift and carry you to his en suite bathroom, and clean you up.

his touch is ever so gentle as he dabs a wet washcloth over your thighs and abused cunt. he places periodic kisses to your exposed skin, punctuating it with a gentle peck to your forehead after he's done. welt would be lying if he said that he didn't harbour feelings for you, yet he chose to keep them to himself out of fear that you would choose to leave the express crew if you didn't reciprocate them. he'd rather suffer in silence then to lose you.

although welt did want to keep your secret arrangement going on, he didn't think twice about putting one of his shirts on you and placing you down in his own bed. he didn't want you to wake up alone, and you were too exhausted to walk yourself back to your room. a selfish part of him was thankful for this, as the way that you cuddled up to him in your sleep-ridden state made his heart leap. if anybody was to knock on his door in the morning, then he'd come up with an excuse. for now, he could pretend that you were his, and he, yours.

[missmeinyourbones]

CLEAN ME UP 

c/w: established relationship, hurt/comfort, light mentions of blood and injury, atsumu lowkey gets his ass beat </3 but he is so sweet

Atsumu sits crisscrossed on the floor of your bathroom with a tender black eye and a busted lip—and though this should be a rare thing, you need all five fingers to count the number of times you’ve seen this film before.

The first two were ages ago, high school days when he and Osamu couldn’t stop themselves from throwing a punch or two over nothing at all. Their egos too big and brains too small, twice you'd gotten roped into their post-brawl aftercare. Another time it was a fight off the court, when a rival captain made a snide remark about his foul accent. The fourth, a drunken, immature mistake.

Tonight’s wounds are different. Because when Atsumu nonchalantly shows up black and blue at your door, he doesn’t tell you what happened. There’s no story attached to the bruises he bares, no lengthy explanations or excuses. And Atsumu is a lot of things, but speechless is never one of them. 

He looks childish, you think, the way his broad body folds itself into a tiny pretzel and hardly takes up a corner of your tiled floor. He’s oddly quiet, too. Sure, you heard his witty comments down the hallway about how you should see the other guy, but something’s still off. His eyes aren't lit with their usual flame of youth, pride. 

Only a few words are exchanged through the process of cleaning him up. Between wet washcloths and tiny sniffles, Atsumu fumes, You haven't asked enough questions yet, and it’s beginning to freak him out. He doesn't know whether or not he should be grateful or unsettled with your silence.

A frozen bag of vegetables presses against his left eyelid when you finally ask, "What the hell did you do this time?"

Atsumu smiles at the mere sound of your voice, an instant warmth against the burning ice on his body. "Why's it always my fault?"

You remove the bag from his brow to shoot him a look, that look. He knows better than to argue with that look. Arguing with that look gets him nothing but trouble and an achy back from a night on the couch. So, he diverts. 

"Nothing,” he sulks. “He started it, and—"

"—And you finished it, right?" 

Your words are meant to be sarcastic, at his dispense of how stupid he behaved, but Atsumu doesn't take them as such. Instead, at your interruption, he shoots you an earnest smile filled with satisfaction and dried blood stretched across his chapped lips.  

"See? So smart, baby." 

His hand rises to pet your chin but you lean back quick enough to dodge his caress. His eyes fall to the bag of vegetables that now sits by your lap. 

“Atsumu,” you try again, foreboding. 

He rolls his head back in a huff against the bench of the bathtub, and the ceramic feels warm against his neck compared to the still stinging chill on his eye. 

“What was I supposed to do? They were bein’ assholes.”

His whole team had gone out drinking tonight for a celebratory round or five, followed by a few days off. And as charming as Atsumu is, he does have his foes. People in the volleyball world he’s not the biggest fan of, for reasons he doesn’t seem to discuss with you. He likes to leave it at his good intuition, something you know he lacks.  

With the context clues provided, you can think of two or three people he’s implying. 

His reasoning is flawed, to say the least, but the way he says it has your heart breaking in the slightest. He avoids eye contact, as if he's embarrassed, dancing around the subject and wishing the ground to swallow him whole. 

His shyness has you trying a softer approach. 

“Everyone is an asshole,” you whisper, lightly returning pressure to his eye with the makeshift ice, “if punching assholes was reasonable, I’d do it all the time.”

Atsumu smiles a bit at that, but you catch how he winces slightly at the movement. 

“Yer so funny, baby,” he tries to trail off. “Funniest person I—”

“Miya,” comes his second warning, and by the look in your eye, he’s not brave enough to try for a third.

“Fine,” he grumbles, “but when yer a Miya, I’m playing that card on you, too. Y’know that, right?” 

You nod, and whether it's to his proposal or to encourage his words, you don't know. But it works, because Atsumu takes a deep breath and stares at the ceiling again. 

“This time was different, okay?”

His tone is eerily soft. One only you get the privilege of hearing, and not because it's out of love, but because it's out of hate. Something’s shaken him so bad, he’s almost been rendered speechless. 

“How was it different?”

“They were talking about you,” he shakily exhales. “Sayin’ stupid shit that isn’t true.”

Your heart softens as you do your best to keep a strong facade, but maybe Atsumu does have good intuition, as his hand squeezes yours through the quick moment of silence. 

“If it’s not true, then it shouldn't have mattered, right?” you try.

“No,” he’s quick to work himself up again, eyes finding yours. “Like hell was I gonna let ‘em keep talking about you like that, ‘specially when I’m right fuckin’ there.” 

Your fingers lightly skim his jaw, nowhere sensitive but he jumps all the same. You apply pressure to tilt his head, forcing him to find your gaze. He does.

“Do you want to tell me what they said?”

Atsumu gaze softens, and after a moment of thinking, he shakes his head. 

“No,” he decides, “I don’t.” 

His eyes fall to your lips and back up to your eyes. “Do you want to know?”

You smile at his sincerity. Atsumu, who you know to be just as sweet as he is boisterous, would tell you if you asked. He’d do anything you ask. But, you decide against it. 

“No. No, I don’t.” 

Atsumu exhales a breath he didn't realize he was holding as he lets his head nuzzle against your palm. Contrary to the ice, it's warm and soft on his skin. He thinks it could heal wounds faster than any bag of broccoli ever could. 

“I trust you,” he hears you coo into his hairline, kisses now dancing along his forehead and jaw, “even if you do have the emotional intelligence of a middle school boy, sometimes.”

Astumu hmphs at your words, simultaneously agreeing and brushing you off. He doesn't care enough to bicker, right now. He doesn’t need to tell you about how the man from the bar was talking about you. About how easy you’d be to persuade into bed. About how you're just with Atsumu for his flashy perks and award winning smile. 

He doesn't need to because he knows they're wrong. Because they don't see these moments, when Atsumu sits on the ledge of your empty bathtub. With popped blood vessels and tender welts, those men don't melt beneath your careful fingertips or soothing pecks. 

He doesn't have to say anything, because you trust him. You trust Atsumu, and it's the one thing in this world he knows to be true. 

He lifts his head up from your hold to find your lips. 

“I jus’ love you,” he insists, lightly pressing himself to you with such caution, “so much.” 

And if there’s one thing in this world you know to be true, it's that Miya Atsumu loves you.   

[jamsterrr]

N. RIKI . . . MY BIGGEST HEADACHE ⭑.ᐟ

ni-ki. manager. headache proned. annoyance. teasing. “ just because you’re the assiastant doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do “. dickhead.

description. you grew up with your older brother heeseung playing basketball, so you knew much more than the next girl. but being the captain’s assistant isn’t easy when your your brothers annoying friend is apart of the team. when you get stuck riding with him on the way home. how will you do?

words : 2.8k

ni-ki x female!reader

contains. ‼️ ; sap , slight making out , tongue kissing ( ?? ) , cursing. ( let me know if i missed anything ! )

WARNING. : everything is fictional! and this is not how any of the enhypen members are at all! this is purely for fun and entertainment <3

part 1: my biggest headache | part 2: mbh: bet chapter

link to my masterlist . . . !

don’t take this serious. this is just a fanfic. tbh.. idk what this is.. i’m not even going to lie.. this kind of sucks.. and I feel like i should’ve named it something different but idk. it seemed to fit??! sorry if it’s so sappy, I was trying to at least get something out to you guys! 🥺 sorry it took me so long to put something out. i was sick for like the whole first week of august and i have a lot of stuff going on. but i have so many good drabbles! stay tuned <3 ( heeseung , jake , sunghoon drabbles soon ehehe )

⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰

You were fairly a good student. You didn't do much outside of school but volunteer stuff, and that's probably how you ended up here in the first place. At the gym at 6:00 on a Friday, watching the team you helped coach, score each time from the other team. You had been ripping and running all day. You were tired, hungry, dehydrated and felt like you smelt like the bottom of Shrek's ass.

Your eyes were bouncing all over the court, landing on your brother Lee Heeseung, captain of the basketball team. Since you could remember, he was always teaching you something about basketball. At a young age you came to love it. It was something you both held dear to your hearts and something you bonded over. You would've joined if your school had a girls basketball team, but no one was interested. Accompanying your brother on the courts were his closest and best friends, some you came to adore and know.

Others... not so much.

They were Jake Sim. His longest friend. Park Sunghoon. Typically, the quietest one. Park Jongseong. But people called him Jay. And Nishimura Riki. But he went by the name Ni-ki. He was by far the most annoying. Maybe it's because he was the closest to your age. Or maybe it was the way that he didn't listen to anything you said, no matter what it was. You could hand him a water bottle in the hot sun, and he wouldn't take it.

That happened. Literally last weekend.

Each time it was the same thing. He wouldn’t comply with you, he’s always knock you down during practice, though you weren’t scared to try and do it back, though his height advantage beat you sometimes.

You tried to keep your cool. For your sake.

Regardless, you always tried to be nice to him, over and over. Chance after chance. But your patience was running thin. During the remainder of the first half of the game, you continued to watch, seeing the score for your team go up. The crowd cheering with each dribble of the ball down the court, Jake shooting and scoring a point. Soon the buzzer buzzed, and the first half of the game was over. You finally took the chance to sit down, taking a small seat until Heeseung came over and you smiled, a wave of happiness coming over you as you seen your brother.

"Hey." He spoke to you out of breath, his heart lips showing his full smile as you handed him a cold washcloth. "Hey." You replied back, watching him. The male mumbled a small thank you and you waited for him to finish before continuing to speak. "You did amazing out there. It was like watching Lebron James" you joked, and he rolled his eyes, nudging your shoulder. "Lying is bad, you'll get lie bumps." he said, sticking out his tongue at you.

You grinned and replied back. "Must be why your taste buds are visible. The two of you laughed before spotting Jake, his hands resting above his head. "Hey, Y/n" he spoke, your name rolling off his tongue, followed by his Australian accent. "Mind rounding up a couple water bottles for us Seven?" he asked, and you nodded. Knowing Jungwon and Nicholas were going to be put in the next game. "Of course, I'll be right back." You said, excusing yourself from the conversation you were having before making your way to concessions.

The line was full, and you had approximately 18 minutes to make it back with water bottles for the seven. While standing in line you couldn't help but notice Ni-ki walking from out the double doors, you crossed your fingers hoping he wouldn't bother you. To your luck, he didn't.

That was a first.

Waiting what felt like hours but had only been a couple of seconds, you felt a slightly taller presence behind you, their hands wrapped around your body as you slightly tensed. "Guess who~?" they sung out and you laughed. It was your best friend, Sunoo. The two of you met in Middle school when he was in 8th grade, two grades higher than you back when you met. The two of you instantly clicked.

"I didn't expect you to be here, I thought you went on that date?" you asked, and he moved his hands, pouting his perfect lips. "They cancelled, but hey, it's their loss." he spoke, and you nodded, agreeing with him.

"What are you in the concession line for?" The male asked, the two of you in your own little world, ignoring the hustle of the outside world, anyone but you two. "I'm getting water for everyone on the team, though I'm annoyed none of them brought their own water bottles." You groaned, leaning your head back slightly. "Or maybe they did and just want to make your life harder." Sunoo grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

You rolled your eyes as it was finally your turn to place your order. "Yes, May I please have 8 water bottles?" you say as the small child that was helping rounded up your total. Sunoo leaned over and whispered to you. "I thought you only needed Seven?" "Well, I want one too" you frowned.

After a small call over from the child, another lady helped them calculate the total, the little kid speaking. "That will be $16 ma'am, cash or card?" he asked, "Cash" you responded, feeling around in your pocket, patting your jacket *and* pants pocket, but not being able to find it nowhere. You leaned over to Sunoo, whispering slightly. "Do you by chance have $17 dollars? I'll pay you back, I promise you" said as he shook his head. "No, I only have 5, the ticket lady took my money" he frowned.

You couldn't even deal with the mountain of embarrassment that came over your body at the moment, your cheeks flushing red. Hell, your whole face. Until you saw a hand reaching across, and a $20 bill being handed to the small boy that started to count the change. You and Sunoo both looked over to see Ni-ki, his hair slightly sticking to his face, his side profile causing you to stare with a slight smirk on his face. You were slightly mesmerized by the males looks. He definitely wasn't the worst looking person you'd ever seen. If only his attitude towards you wasn't such a dickhead thing. Who knows, maybe the two of you would actually be friends. Sunoo and you collected the water while Ni-ki collected his change.

--

The three of you stepped out of line. "Uh, thanks..." you said, holding the cold-water bottles, before feeling Ni-ki take one from your hands. "Well, you were looking a little embarrassed in the line..." he said, sucking in air through his teeth. "I wouldn't have wanted to be you" he laughed, turning around. "I'll take my $17 in any form of payment" he said before turning around and walking back through the black double doors. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watch Sunoo roll his eyes. "Gosh, I don't know how you have the strength to deal with him. He's so sarcastic."

"To be fair, so are you" you laughed, and Sunoo rolls his eyes playfully. "Yeah, but I'm better" he joked, and you shook your head. "Okay, let's get these to the boys" you said, leading Sunoo to the boys, making their way over to you, thanking you for the water and smiling. "About time." Heeseung joked as you rolled your eyes and sat down.

Oh, weren't you ready to go home.

--

Once the second quarter of the game started you were back in your mode, making sure to keep look for any fouls. The people that were playing the game now was Nicholas, Jungwon, Jake, Sunghoon and Ni-ki. The quote-on-quote best players on the team.

Your eyes kept flickering towards Ni-ki. Trying hard to look away but the male was so captivating even though he boiled your blood with the things he said. As the crowd cheered, your eyes jumped to the score board. 42 ( — ) 24. Heeseung was on the 3-point line, dribbling the ball as he tossed the ball to Ni-ki who threw it back to Heeseung after distracting a couple of the opposing teammates that were near him at the time. Your brother shot the basketball, from the line. It goes in with a... *SWISH*.

The people on the crowd stood up, stomping and shouting, the cheerleaders performing and waiving their pompoms. The band performing. Total chaos in the school's gymnasium. A big smile on your face as you watched your brother get showered in the love he deserved.

You ran towards him, wrapping your arms around him, giving him a big hug. Feeling a sense of pride for your brother, for him to be doing something he truly enjoyed and getting credit for it along with the rest of the team. You couldn’t help but feel a sense of happiness. All those long weekends of practice and after school practice came in handy. The score flashing 45 ( — ) 24.

--

“Hey, can you get a ride from Ni-ki? I’m not going straight home and everyone else already left. I already asked him, and he said yes.” Heeseung spoke as you frowned. “I really don’t want to; you know me and him don’t get alone. I can’t promise you I’ll be nice.” You crossed your arms as you put your book-bag strap over your shoulder, after uncrossing your arms.

“Oh, come on, try and be nice? I will be home later but I’m sure you’re ready to just go home. It’s only like a 15-minute drive, you will be okay.” Heeseung spoke, leaning and pressing a soft kiss to your head. “Don’t wait up for me.” He spoke. “WASNT. planning on it” you said slightly annoyed, but you couldn’t even be mad at him. You sighed, searching the halls, calling out the male's name gently, getting louder with each call.

“Ni-ki!” You shouted, groaning as you looked around, screaming and raising your hand to hit the male once he popped out from the corner, grabbing your hand as he laughed. His hand holding your wrist, gripping it tightly. “God-! You scared the shit out of me!” You whine and gently took your wrist from his hand. The male let it go and laughed a little. “Yeah, sorry about that... not” he laughed, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re annoying. Take me home.” The attitude evident in your voice as he rolled his eyes at it, standing there for a second, his gaze burning a whole into you.

You took a deep breath before looking at the male and hummed. “Please...” you said, biting your tongue. You didn’t want to stall anymore, you just wanted to go home and that was it. Needing a hot shower, something to eat and relax yourself on your bed since it was the afternoon. “Yes, I can.” He finally spoke, him glancing at you before he started walking to the back of the school, the parking lot where every student with a car parked. It was quiet except for the two of your footsteps, the sound of the door opening as he held it out for you, a soft “thank you” escapes your lips as the two of you made it quietly to the male's car.

Not knowing whether it would be rude of not to sit in the back seat, you got into the passenger side of the male's car, placing your book bag on the floorboard in-front of you, buckling up your seatbelt.

Ni-ki did the same and started the car, turning on the radio as he drove off. The first bit of the car ride was a little awkward. You didn’t move much, causing you to get a slight stiff in your neck since you were looking out your window. Something came over you that made you ask the question.

“Why are you always such an asshole to me?” You didn’t know why you had the urge to say it right now out of all times, I mean you could have just easily did it at school when you didn’t have to see him that much, but you asked him in his car. “An asshole to you?” He answered your question with a question. Leaning back in his seat as he turned his head to look at you, his eyes roaming your body.

“Yeah, an asshole to me.” You replied firmly. “I’m not an asshole to you.” He answered, causing you to scoff. “Ni-ki, don’t play stupid with me. You know what I’m talking about. Ever since I started being the assistant you have gave me nothing but trouble. I want to know why, what have I done to you?” You asked, now starting to wonder what truly could be behind the male's mind. Ni-ki started driving, the car ride being silent. Filled with the awkward silence and the soft tunes of the radio. The time flew by. To you it seemed like it’s been at least an hour. But the 15 minutes was coming to a stop.

“I don’t know, I just think you’re fun to mess with.” He spoke, but you weren’t buying it. “Can I ask you a question?” Ni-ki asked, pulling up in front of your house, parking in the driveway, in the spot Heeseung normally parked in, but since he wasn’t home. Ni-ki used it. “What’s that?” You ask, slightly curious at the question you were about it to be asked.

“Do you and Sunoo date?” He asked, not looking at you, his eyes staring straight forward as he bit his bottom lip gently, putting the car into park.

Nothing could have prepared you for that question. You widened your eyes slightly at it. “What- no- Sunoo is my best friend. Why would you even ask that? What business is it to you?” You asked, - shocked - your lips slightly agape. “Good.” Is all he said.

“Good??!” You repeated and he finally looked at you, his eyes flickering around your face, clearly noticing your slightly distraught but concerned look.

What happened to the Ni-ki I know? The one that makes me want to ring my brain out. Why was he acting like this?

The male licked his lips and gently placed his hand on your cheek, biting his bottom lip as you felt your heart began to race. “Wh-what are you doing?” You question before feeling his soft and plush lips against yours. Your eyes closing as you let yourself melt into the kiss. it was like something snapped inside of you. After all these times, the feelings you couldn’t deny rushed into your body, butterflies fluttering with each sound both of your lips made smacking together.

Your body was turned, facing his as you ran your hands through his hair, his hands placed on your hips, slightly rubbing the skin there. His tongue poked at your bottom lip as you opened your mouth, allowing the males tongue to explore the inside of your mouth.

The two of you pulled away the only thing connecting you two was a single strand of spit that was soon gone, heavy pants playing loudly over the man that was speaking on the radio. “What was that..?” You questioned, licking your lips as your eye fluttered to look at him.

A soft smirk appeared on his lips. “Me saying that I’ll pick you up tomorrow, that we should actually get to know each other better.” Ni-ki smiled and placed his hand on your cheek, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheek.

“Can I see about that..?” You slightly blushed and he nodded. Taking his hand, you gently intertwined your fingers and placed a soft kiss on the back of his hand, getting out of the car and grabbing your backpack. “See you..” you said before he waved and returned it with a smile. “See you.” Once you were clear out of the way of the car, Ni-ki pulled off and made his way out of the neighborhood, you stood still for a second, sighing as you watched his car disappear. You touched your lips which were now a little swollen and a bit tingling from the kiss that still lingered on your mind.

Gosh, what did you do.

After you finally showered, feeling the freshest that you could, you sat down in your bed, hearing a bunch of iPhone dings coming from your notifications. It was a group chat filled with the basketball team, excluding your brother. A new one.

Y/N kisses Ni-ki. [ the bet. ]

Ni-ki: [ *sent 2 attatchments, picture & video* ]

Jake: I knew it was going to happen.

Nicho: Ha! Called it. Pay up.

Jungwon: SOOOO not fair. I thought it’d be at least 2 months.

Sunghoon: damn, I owe Sunoo $70

Jay: 💀

You widen your eyes. Was that what that was? Were you just a bet. To see how long it would be until you kissed someone apart of the basketball team. Your best friend even participating in it. You felt disgusting. Your head pounding after you left the group chat, tears welding into your eyes. Your head pounding.

“Fucking Nishimura. My biggest headache.”

[thejeangreysummers]

SUMMER IN NOVEMBER | simon x afab reader

warnings: making out, touching, shared shower time but no smut yet. traumatized simon with negative self worth post near death experience, reader is not in the military by choice, dubcon regarding tits if you squint, and possessive simon. (not proofread we die like men ig)

Simon loves the desperation in your first kiss, you kiss him through the mask clumsily with your arms around his neck. For the first time his reflexes loose their rigidity as he barely closes his eyes as you’re pulling away. Flushed, shamefaced, mumbling thank god you’re safe and turning away.

Simon tugs you by the wrist, it’s not a request by the way he’s studying you. You’re ready for the lecture about professionalism or a comment about how you’re old enough to know better than to pull a stunt like this. He’s never barked at you the way he does with the team. Never complains when you sit in his chair, doesn’t say anything when you drink out of his mug, and when you go out he’s paying your tab before you can touch it.

This will be the breaking point, the last time he tolerates you, now he’s going to tell you to go fuck yourself for sure. He tells you to close your eyes and you’re ready for him to scream at you bracing yourself not to cry.

Ghost kisses you roughly, sucking on your bottom lip, demanding you open yourself to him. In seconds he has you against the wall caging you in as he sucks on your neck, it’s better than the wet dreams you’ve been having with just this one kiss. All your nerve ending ache for him and you’re squirming, Simon pulls away eyes wide.

He’s still got blood tainted on his uniform, his hands have gunpowder residue — who is he to kiss you? You deserve more than a single night of him fucking you until you can’t stand. You don’t belong amongst all this carnage. You don’t belong with him.

Yet, you’re pulling him by his collar cradling his face in your small hands, kissing him again, softer like you’re sipping on his mouth, savoring it until he leaves again. Simon doesn’t want to share you with the wraith inside him, he wants all your sunlight to soak into him instead.

He lets you tug him to the infirmary, watches you re-reading the patient portal notes on your phone while walking to his room. When he complains, you silence his smart ass comments about his injuries when you slide into his lap. You curl into him like a cat searching for warmth, praise, and petting. He keens at your attention, your excessive worry, and your newfound display of affection. Wondering if after tonight you’ll come to your senses and never make him tea in the middle of the night again. He could make you beg for his mouth, but he can’t make you love him.

Simon leans into you as you set up a shower for him palming at your waist, digging his fingers into your hips, hovering over the button of your cargo pants. He lets you undress him just in his boxers and balaclava, you press a shaky kiss to the middle of his chest promising to wait for him in the bedroom. For the first time Simon doesn’t want to be alone, he catches himself asking you to join him in the shower. He doesn’t want to fuck you in the shower, he just wants you stay, but he doesn’t know how to justify the yearning he’s been holding for you. You don’t complicate things for him, just let him unzip your pants and unhook your bra. In the shower you stand away from the stream of hot water, gently scrubbing the sweat and exhaustion off his skin. You look away from his half hard cock as you run a washcloth over his calves, after doting on him you press a kiss to his cloth covered mouth. You gently trace the seam of his mask and tell him you’re leaving so he wash his intimates. Simon emerges out the steamy shower to a warm towel and neatly folded night clothes beside a clean balaclava with its signature skull.

That night your hands don’t linger down to his waist, you let him lay his head on your chest, you scratch down his upper back until you fall asleep. You never ask him for more than he’s willing to give, you’re so innocently interrupting the hardened exterior he presents, and you’re too naive to know he wanted you from the minute you looked up at him.

Simon needs one minute with his bare face against your tits. He knows from carrying you home after a drink turns to two, you’re affectionate until you’re fighting sleep you can’t be stirred. He knows you wouldn’t deny him this if you were awake. He’s slipping off the mask nuzzling his face against your tits into the curve of your neck until he’s on top of you leaning his forehead against yours and barely kissing your mouth.

He slips on his mask again, unwilling to let you see him vying for your love, waiting for your praise. He’s leaves the bed, wondering if he should pretend this night never happened, when you’re calling out his name in your sleep. Simon returns to the bed as you’re gasping for air, you heave with sobs as he pulls you into his chest. You’re begging him not to die, not to disappear, not to abandon you.

“I love you, you can’t leave.”

For the first time in the years he’s known you, something emerges that is unyielding— more than a watery sob this is a practically a prayer. Your wish may be more than you bargained for, but you belong to him now. If you’ll take him as he is sharp teeth, crooked, and scarred he must find a way to live with himself. One day you’ll know that you’re the first to have touched his broken nose, scarred cupid’s bow, and uneven shave. He wasn’t held like this even when he was a child, but you’re holding onto him for dear life and you love him.

The way you see through everyone extends past human understanding, you’re both paranormal in your own ways. You’re a collection of colorful persistent oddities, your curious consumptions forced you into this line of business. Your mistakes is his dumb luck, he’s claiming your love as his prize. You’re too pretty a bird to stay in these barracks, kept in this cage, consumed by all this corruption. After everything his atonement will be keeping you safe. Men may change, but the self serving nature of ghosts linger. The prospect of spoiling you rotten, earning your smile, and making you whimper his name will be his own pleasures one day.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Who Wears Short Shorts?

Week #1 Prompt: Short Shorts | Word Count: 1469 | Rating: M | Pairing: Steddie | Characters: Eddie, Steve, Robin | CW: Mild Sexual Content | Tags: Post S4, Everybody Lives, Eddie POV, Platonic Stobin, Silliness, Fluff, Hair Removal, Getting Together, Blame it on Nair Fumes

Letting himself inside, Eddie looks around, and the house seems empty, even if Steve's car is in the driveway. He pauses, and he's pretty sure he hears the faint sound of music coming from upstairs.

"Hey! Steve?!" Eddie screams, and waits. Nothing.

So, he climbs the staircase, and that's when he hears that the music is coming from the bathroom. He can also hear Steve and Robin talking, arguing, laughing.

When he gets to the doorway, he's very confused.

Very, very confused.

"What exactly is going on here?" Eddie asks, looking back and forth between Steve and Robin, both standing in the bathroom, wearing short shorts, white lotion slathered all over their legs, "And what's that smell?"

Eddie pulls his shirt up over his nose. It smells like some of the chemicals that Wayne sometimes comes home smelling like after a shift at the plant.

It's caustic. Burning his eyes and nose.

Robin wiggles her leg in his direction, "Nair."

"Hold still!" Steve chides her, trying to get her to stop moving without messing up the application.

"Nair," Eddie repeats.

"Nair," Steve confirms.

"And…"

"Who wears short shorts? We wear short shorts! If you dare wear short shorts, Nair for short shorts!" Robin and Steve both sing-song together, loudly, over the already loud music, waving their arms, legs kicking up together into a kickline, the idea of not moving around, obviously long forgotten.

And, oh. Steve's limber. 

Flexible, and Eddie has thoughts he's not supposed to be having right now. 

He feels insane as he reaches over and turns the music down, maybe a first, in his whole lifetime. He's not supposed to be the normal one in any situation. This is wrong. So wrong.

Like, he gets it. He watches TV. He knows what Nair is. Sort of. In theory. He definitely knows the commercial jingle. But he doesn't understand why this is happening right now. He thought they were going swimming. Not, whatever this is.

"You're using Nair? Why?" Eddie asks, because it smells like something that shouldn't be used by humans without proper ventilation. Maybe gas masks. 

"Robin was curious, so I'm showing her how to do it," Steve says, like that's a normal thing for him to say.

"Okay, sure. Of course. New question, why do you know how to do it?" Eddie asks, as he mourns the loss of Steve's leg hair, that Steve is currently in the process of burning off with that eye-wateringly stinky cream. 

"Swim team," Steve says, like that's an explanation. It's not. It's really, really not.

"Swim team," Eddie repeats.

"Yeah, for like, all that aerodynamic shit," Steve says, and Eddie can't help it. He smiles. 

The kitchen timer dings, loud and shrill, in the small room. 

"Is that so?" Eddie asks, leaning against the door jam, watching as Steve wipes the cream off of Robin's legs with a washcloth. Then forces her legs into the tub, one at a time, as he rinses them off. And Eddie can't tell if it worked or not, it's not like Robin's legs were all that hairy to begin with, at least not as far as he's ever noticed. 

But, Steve. Steve's legs are hairy, just like the rest of him, and Eddie's curious. Morbidly, so.

Robin is running her hand over her legs, and Eddie watches as Steve just stands there, grinning at her.

"See?!" Steve says, excited.

Then she coughs.

"I'm gonna go get some fresh air," Robin declares, and Eddie wishes she'd bring a little in for the rest of them, honestly. This bathroom needs a window, desperately.

After she goes, Eddie looks back at Steve, "What about yours?"

"Takes a little longer, my hair is way more thick and coarse than hers," Steve says.

And, yeah it is.

Eddie doesn't want to admit, even to himself, what he thinks about all that body hair Steve has.  But he definitely has thoughts about it. Lots and lots of thoughts.

"I'll do you next," Steve teases.

"The hell you will. I like my leg hair right where it is, Harrington."

"Suit yourself then," Steve says dryly, and he finally starts wiping down his own legs. 

And yeah, he's losing hair up to his knee. Well, some of the hair. A little of it. Honestly, it seems very hit and miss as he wipes it away. Most of his leg hair just looks a little melted, singed, curled. 

Damaged, not removed.

"Is it not working?" Eddie asks, curious what the plan is here.

"Well, it's not perfect," Steve laughs, and it looks pretty bad, but Steve doesn't seem to care, as he adds onto his thought with a breezy, "Oh well."

"Are you just gonna leave it like that?" Eddie asks. Because, honestly. No.

Steve just shrugs, "I guess I could shave them."

And Eddie is pretty sure his brain short circuits, because the next thing that comes out of his mouth is totally against his will, "Can I shave them for you?"

Steve stops, looks at him, then laughs, shrugging his shoulders, "Sure. Okay."

Eddie isn't sure why he asked that, and he feels like his cheeks are on fire. Steve reaches into the medicine cabinet, producing a razor and a can of shaving cream, handing them both to Eddie. Then he plugs the tub, runs some water, and wets his legs with a washcloth, before sitting down on the closed toilet seat. 

Oh shit. 

Shit, shit, shit.

"You want me to…?" Eddie asks, trailing off, waving his hand holding the shaving cream towards Steve's legs.

"You're the one that asked," Steve says, teasing him.

Eddie swallows, kneeling in front of Steve, squeezing some of the shaving foam onto his palm, and then runs it up Steve's leg, applying it, stopping when he gets to the knee.

Steve pulls up on his shorts, his already very short shorts, making them even more indecent, "Might as well go on up."

Eddie's dick twitches at the idea, but he nods, getting some more shaving cream and rubbing it up onto Steve's thighs.

Then he holds the razor in a slightly shaky hand, "You sure you want me to do this?"

Steve shrugs, "It'll grow back."

Eddie nods. That's not exactly what he was asking, but he grips Steve's foot in his hand, and starts running the razor upwards, gently. Trying to be careful. One stripe in, he leans over and rinses the blade off in the tub, looking back up at Steve's face. 

And then keeps shaving, getting everything off his lower legs, before pausing, then just forges ahead. In for a penny, in for a pound.

He puts Steve's heel on his shoulder, giving him access to the underside of his thigh, and he's fully hard in his own shorts now, and he really hopes Steve won't notice. He's sure this isn't supposed to be that. He's not supposed to be getting off on this.

But he is. He really, really is.

He's such a goddamn pervert. 

Then he sees it. The hard line of Steve's cock, pressing against his shorts. His tight shorts.

Eddie drops the razor. It clatters to the tile, and he laughs nervously as he reaches to pick it up.

What is he doing? What are they doing right now? It's madness. It's the fumes. They've gone to their heads. They've lost critical brain function, the both of them. That must be it. It's the only explanation. 

Robin turns back up in the doorway, and they both turn and look at her. It must look crazy, Eddie between Steve's thighs, his leg hoisted up, covered in shaving cream.

"Oh, ew. No," she says, and disappears just as fast as she'd arrived, slamming the door behind her as she goes. 

Steve chuckles, and Eddie gets back to work. Shaving, rinsing. Over and over, until Steve's legs are both bare. 

It's weird, but Eddie can't help himself, and he runs his hand up Steve's calf, slow. Exploring. 

And Steve moans. 

Oh, goddamn. 

Eddie suddenly raises up on his knees, sending Steve backwards, off-balance, falling against the toilet tank. 

"Am I reading this wrong?" Eddie asks, chest heaving. Both of his hands clutching Steve's wet, smooth thighs.

Steve shakes his head, pupils blown wide, and Eddie runs his hand up, cupping Steve through his short shorts. Leaning forward, pressing against Steve, contorting Steve's body, as Eddie leans close enough to kiss him.

And he does, lips barely brushing, lightly, and it isn't lost on Eddie that he put his hand on Steve's dick before they even kissed. 

Steve leans forward, surging into him, kissing back. Hand coming up to press against the back of Eddie's head, pulling him closer. 

And Eddie's sure he'll die right here, for real this time.

If not from the lingering toxic fumes, definitely from Steve.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun! 🌞

Notes: There are lots of different versions of the Nair "short shorts" commercials, but here's one from the 70s, if you're unfamiliar.

[thatgrumpybxtch]

Heyyy

Can we get some new twilight Cullen headcannons? Maybe something comfort related? No specific topic, try to have fun with it!

Thank you love ❤

Ofc!! Yw <3

Carlisle is their anytime he has a slight suspicion that you may be hurt or sick in any way

Always looking at cuts/scrapes looking for any sign of infection

Esme kinda teams up with him if you're sick

Making soup, giving you Tylenol, cooling your head down with a washcloth

They are there for literally anything you may need, willing to do whatever to keep you safe and happy :)

Alice is always "lending" you clothes, shoes, and handbags

By that I mean she buys them and ofc its all name brand or designer clothing

Always keeps an eye on your future, just to be sure that you're safe and so she is always one step ahead

Checks in with Jasper for your mood

Jasper is always trying to be discreet when changing your mood lol

Shares stories of the civil war and other bits of history he witnessed

Rosalie is good with anything to do with hair or makeup

While she may not admit it out loud she loves to do your hair

Same things goes with your makeup

She also doesn't mind to just listen to you talk about life, it reminds her of what she missed out on and she's glad that you get to have experiences she didn't, although she is jealous the entire time she listens but don't take it personally

Emmett is a sports guy, so if you're into sport he'll love to rant and rave about them with you

and even if you don't know anything about sports you will eventually learn a thing or two against your will

Edward definitely teaches you to play piano and makes his own little songs for you all the time

Any song or artist you like he'll learn to play the instrumental version of your favorite songs

He also buys you a record player and records all the time, he just thinks music sounds better through a record

always reading your mind to the point where it annoys you so much

literally finishing your sentences to mess with you lol

[myysaints]

I was wondering if it's possible to request a carlos x reader where they get invited to a show like the return of superman and them just being so domestic and so good with the children (let's say it's toddler twins)

It could be a social media au or mixed with some writing or just a one shot of sorts, anything is fine with me.. thank youu

°˖ ⊹ ꒰ CS55 ꒱ BABY FEVER─ CARLOS SAINZ

CARLOS SAINZ x f!wife!reader

genre — fluff

notes — ohhhh anon this was soooo cute!!!! omg i had a blast writing this, absolute cuteness overload 🥰🥰🥰 apologies for the delay in getting back to you, i made this into a one-shot, hope that you enjoy it!

“Hey! Hey, hey, don’t do that!”

The sudden commotion coming from the kitchen piques your interest, and you set your book down, only mildly irritated that your TLC time has been interrupted by Carlos’s yelps. You can hear him grumbling away in the kitchen, and as you round the corner, you’re faced with a sight too good to be true:

Carlos is on his hands and knees, a cloud of flour circling his head. There’s dough on the counter. There’s dough in the sink. There’s even dough on the cabinets overhead – how that got there, you haven’t a clue. Needless to say, the kitchen is an utter mess. Though, you should have expected that: Leaving Carlos alone with a pair of hyperactive toddlers – twins, what’s more – was sure to lead to chaos.

A week ago, you received an invitation from Carlos’s PR team, requesting for your presence on a television show called “The Return of Superman”. A curious name, and an even more intriguing presence: Spending a few days taking care of and getting to know a pair of adorable twins? It sounded absolutely delightful to you. Besides, you and Carlos have been talking about expanding the family for a while now, so you figured this would make a good trial run of sorts.

You lean against the doorframe, watching on in amusement as Carlos – still kneeled on the ground – pleads with the giggling toddlers. The pair of twins are running circles around him, their hands sticky with dough, their faces dusted with flour. They’re shrieking, and each time they pass him, a tuft of hair is pulled, or a clap of dust is sent his way. It’s hilarious; if not for the mess you’ll have to clean up later.

“Alright, what’s going on here?” you say, finally deciding that it’s time for you to step in and save Carlos.

He sends you a grateful, exhausted smile, as you pick one of the twins up, pulling the other’s hands away from Carlos’s hair. He straightens up, smiling sheepishly as he examines the mess that is your apartment’s kitchen. “Well, we wanted to surprise you with cookies. But it seems we… got a little carried away.”

“Cookies!” Mika – the eldest of the twins by two seconds – shrieks, giggling in your arms. She fusses, her pudgy hands reaching out for your face. You pull away with a teasing smile before she can get her grabby hands on your face, and the pouty look on her face is more than enough to have your heart clenching.

“Looks like you guys made a lot more than just cookies,” you hum, guiding Mika to the kitchen sink. As you run the little one’s hands under the water, you nod your head towards Evan – Mika’s other half – who is currently in the midst of trying to sneak out of the kitchen.

Carlos is swift to pick him up in his arms, laughing as the child lets out a peal of laughter. “Nope, not so fast, little one,” he chuckles, ruffling Evan’s flour-covered hair. “You have to help me and Auntie Y/N clean up.”

You set Mika down, gingerly drying her small hands off with a washcloth. She wriggles in your grasp. You don’t miss the way her eyes already set on the ball of dough on the countertop, clearly eager to get back to making a mess. So, in one swift motion, you usher her out of the kitchen and into the makeshift play area you’d constructed for the twins, motioning for Carlos to do the same with Evan.

Following behind, Carlos chuckles, watching as you attempt to wrangle Mika into the playpen. The little girl is stubborn, shrieking as she tries to slip out of your grip and run back to the kitchen. Evan, on the other hand, is much more compliant, dutifully following Carlos’s lead as he totters towards the bookshelf.

“Carlos,” you groan, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. You try not to let Mika notice your frustration, instead smiling through gritted teeth, “Help me get Mika in!”

He merely laughs, taking the young child’s hands from your own. He kneels down in front of her, patting the space on his back. “Piggyback?” he offers Mika, eyebrows wiggling. Clearly, this gets to her, because she’s instantly clambering on him, little arms snaking around his neck and legs wrapping around his torso.

You watch in adoration at the sight: Carlos coming to your aid like a knight in shining armour. His hair is still messy and a faint white from the flour, and there’s something sticky clinging to tufts of his hair. But you still can’t help but feel so happy with him, so content in this domestic bliss.

Carlos does a couple of laps around your sofa with Mika clinging onto his back, the little girl yelling out in glee all the while. You entertain Evan in the meantime, not wanting him to feel any bit left out.

Finally, Carlos sets Mika down in the playpen, without much fuss, to your immense relief. It seems that all that piggyback riding has tuckered Mika out, for she immediately makes a beeline to the beanbags, nestling up with a large yawn.

“Get some sleep, Hermosa.” You look over from reading to Evan, finding Carlos murmuring softly to Mika, his large hand soothing over her hair. “You look tired. Take a little nap, yeah?”

The toddler makes a small noise of assent, her eyelids already drooping shut. You breathe out a quiet laugh at her attempts to stay awake; they ultimately prove futile, for she falls asleep not long after.

Carlos lumbers over to your side, collapsing onto the ground beside you, clearly exhausted.

A moment of content silence passes, with Carlos blinking owlishly at you, a lazy smile on his face. He leans in to press a kiss to your lips, but you put a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

“Nuh-uh,” you tease, a coy smile toying on your lips. “Not until you get that gunk out of your hair. Your turn to rest, big guy. Hop in the shower, I’ll put Evan to bed.”

He hums in agreement, getting up slowly. On his way out, he gives Evan a soft pat on the head; to which the small boy grins widely.

You do as you say, ushering Evan to his bed and getting him ready for a midday nap, thankful for the boy’s calmness and good nature. You read him a bedtime story, put on some soothing lullabies, and once you make sure he’s fast asleep, you head back to the kitchen and busy yourself with tidying up.

Mika is still soundly sleeping in the playpen, not having moved an inch from when you last left her. So, you pass the time by cleaning the place up. The dishes don’t do themselves, after all.

A familiar arm wrapping around your torso alerts you of Carlos’s presence. You turn around, a smile already on your lips. Now, he doesn’t even give you time to rebut, placing a firm and passionate kiss on your lips, much to your delight. You run a hand through his now-clean hair, playing with the slightly damp strands.

“You ever think…” Carlos begins, arms still wrapped soundly around your body, encasing you in a comforting hold. “Do you think that, maybe, we could have this one day?”

You smile, tilting your head. “This… Like, kids?”

He nods, his eyes fixed on yours, waiting for your response with bated breath. All that’s left for you to do is grin, nod, and peck him softly on the cheek: That in itself, is enough of an answer for Carlos to shower you in a flurry of kisses all over again.

[sovasleepy]

beauty sleep

[ gekko x reader ] — when you fall asleep wearing makeup, gekko does his best to clean your face without waking you ; part 2

warnings: the reader is gender neutral, although the reader is described to be wearing makeup so take that as you will. also a brief mention of being drunk/alcohol but its not gekko or the reader.

notes: requested by anon! i hope you enjoy :)

the usual banter between phoenix and jett played out in front of you. they were high off of a victory, much like yourself and several other agents that had joined together for a victory feast at a local takeout place. what was supposed to be a quick run for food turned into a posse of idiots parading around downtown, much to the credit of an already half-drunken skye.

phoenix quickly followed her, his energy coaxing the fire that was already brewing in the hearts of the agents. a particularly important mission had gone incredibly well that day and the entire team was still riding high.

jett snorted as she shoved phoenix, laughing at whatever cheesy joke he’d laid on her.

“love the energy, but i’m far too tired to match it.” gekko spoke, leaning his head slightly towards you. his voice was much softer and quieter than their’s. it was a sharp contrast to the loud, chirpy voices of those around you.

“couldn’t agree more.” you grumbled.

as much as you loved your friends, you were happy to have them split off into their own directions once you were back at base. gekko was the only one to follow.

he padded toward your door and gently held it open for you. he watched you walk in, but hesitated another moment before speaking.

“could i come in? i know we’re both tired, i just don’t think i’m ready to sleep yet, yknow?”

you nodded and smiled. gekko always had a weird way of matching your emotional state, purposefully or not. absently kicking away a t-shirt that had ended up on your floor, you apologized for the state that your room was in and invited him in.

you proceeded to hit the mattress, and you were out like a light.

“thank you,” he spoke, words falling on deaf ears. his eyes scanned your room. he took in the decorations, noting how such small things were marked by traces of your hobbies or personality. “i just need to be around ‘calm’ for a while before i knock out, is all.”

he sat on the edge of your bed. he didn’t notice the fact that you were asleep. he continued to mutter to himself for another moment, before finally turning to see your reaction.

“well,” he spoke one last time. “that would explain the silence.”

still, he didn’t leave. he felt creepy. as though he was spying on you in some weird way. but you had invited him in, right? so there wasn’t something morally off about it, he assured himself.

he would like to deny the warmth that spread in his chest as he observed you, but that would make him a liar. while the thoughts were always in the back of his mind, he never truly got the chance to fully take you in. every curve and every feature of your face, the slight pinch in your brows as you slept, and the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest. it took him a while to realize the other thing he was seeing.

“isn’t falling asleep with makeup on bad for your skin? or your pillows or something.” he whispered softly to himself.

as he did, he slowly got up from where he sat on edge of your bed. a quick glance around your room offered him nothing, but he didn’t want to turn on your light and wake you. you looked so peaceful, after all.

quietly, gekko walked toward your bathroom. after trying for a miserable ten minutes to figure out which washcloth in your bathroom was the softest, he finally settled on one. he stepped towards your sink to dampen it, where his eyes caught a sleeve with the words “makeup removing wipes” printed on the side.

yeah, that seemed like a better idea than his.

makeup wipes in tow, he finally returned to your sleeping form. slowly, as if it would make a difference, he turned on your lamp. he froze as if to make sure you were still asleep.

he pulled one wipe from the package, gently rubbing at your skin. after a second, he pulled back and checked the wipe. he was doing this correctly… wasn’t he?

how often were you supposed to change wipes? or was it just one for the whole face? how hard was too hard to rub? how expensive were these wipes, anyway? how does he know when your face is clean? would the liquid that dampened the wipe hurt if it got in your eyes?

oh well. he could try his best, at least.

he discarded the dirty wipe in the trashcan near your bed and retrieved a new one. he continued his process of gently rubbing your face, taking extra care around your eyes and making sure he wasn’t pressing down so hard as to irritate your skin.

when he was sure he was done, he closed the container and returned it safely to the bathroom counter.

he came back when he was done. gently setting his weight on the bed, he smoothed down your hair with one hand and smiled at your sleeping form.

“you don’t really need your beauty sleep, but i guess i can let you have your sleep-sleep.” gekko commented after a beat.

he sat up gently as to not disturb you. he clicked off your lamp and shut your door softly behind himself as he left you to rest.

[itsabouttimex2]

How Can We Use Y/N?

So I’ve been watching Delicious in Dungeon, and… thinking about Beastman!Y/N. Or, rather- how the party consumes them.

Maybe outright eating them is off-limits, because, you know, Y/N is still a person, and cannibalism tends to bring about some pretty nasty stuff. Marcille is hard on that stance. She’s opened up to a lot of different foods, sure, that’s true- but she’s not eating a person! The potential for diseases and sickness is too high, no matter how you prepare the food, after all.

But eating isn’t the only way for someone or something to be consumed! Time is consumed! Energy is consumed! Labor is consumed! Products are consumed!

So what can we make out of Y/N?

Maybe you’ve been fused with the soul of something like a Firefly Squid, shifting your flesh to bear a pleasing bioluminescence- and if sometimes a tentacle falls off or is chopped clean in combat? Well, Laios doesn’t really see the issue in skinning the rubbery tendril to make glow-in-the-dark hilt wraps and canteens… even if his friends think that it’s a little gross.

Or maybe you’re some form of Cervidae, bearing a soft, short pelt and a pair of antlers to boot, which means… you’ll end up shedding at the end of the year, and the team now has a fresh set to utilize! The keratin is good for carving, especially if you’re making arrowheads or figurines. If nothing creative comes to mind, they’re at least good for trading to orcs or kobolds.

But I’d like to think that you’re a cute little Valais Blacknose, who hasn’t quite learned to trim your own fur, so it’s up to the Touden Party to take up the shears and chop those woolen locks! Chilchuck is a little estranged from his family, admittedly, but he’s still a father of three, and has learned a bit about haircare in the process. Expect lots of reminders to “hold still, dammit!” and maybe a few “oh, shit”s along the way, but the Half-Foot will get you fixed up.

Once he’s trimmed you into a presentably adorable little lamb, it’s finally possible to walk around without tripping over your own fluff, and see without a collage of thick headbands pinned in place to hold back a storm of woolen locks… and the team is left with several pounds of fluffy wool.

And team Touden does not waste resources- especially if those supplies are coming from their precious little Y/N!

So the team scrambles to find a way to use all of the floof, each one taking a portion to use in some way, at least.

Laios knows that winding his cooking ware with spun wool will only make them harder to clean, especially if blood or fat soak into the threads, and he really doesn’t want to waste such a soft part of his dear Y/N by having to throw them out over something like a minor spill… which also rules out his sword’s grip, because, again, wool holds nasty fluids really well. Probably he’ll settle for something extremely practical that can be used many times over, like a pair of socks or gloves. It’s not impossible for the monster enthusiast to keep a handful of unprocessed fluff in his pocket, just so he has something to grab and squish during stressful or boring trips… or so he can “prove” to nearby parties/“friends” how soft you are. (Shuro and Kabru are on the receiving end of more than a few rants.)

Ever practical, Senshi probably makes cheesecloth from your threads, albeit over the course of several days spent knitting the yarn together. If he doesn’t have that sort of time, or maybe just not the motivation, he’ll bind himself up a washcloth or two- perfect for sopping up cooking spills, or scrubbing the inside of a pan. And, now that you can actually see without constantly peeling pounds of fluff from your eyes, expect to given more tasks during cooking. Anything to keep you close and safe. It’s also very probable that he’ll have you on a “Beastman-friendly” diet comprised heavily of leafy meals and chopped veggies. Maybe he’ll even scrounge up some hay, or cut and bind up some grass to have on hand for you as a snack. He won’t even consider this strange- to Senshi, it’s just the proper way to take care of someone that he obsesses over the safety of cares for.

Happy to have “monster” supplies that she doesn’t have to eat, Marcille binds a few of the finer threads into a set of little ribbon for her hair. I also imagine that she’d be primarily responsible for taking caring if your hair after the cut, so she’ll make a few extra in order to style yours like she styles hers. If there’s plenty extra when everyone else is done taking their share, the elf girl just might make herself a little plushy version of you to sleep with… and one of Falin, too.

Divorced father of three, deft of hand Chilchuck has learned his way around a needle… mostly. It’s not above him to maybe weave something nice up for his daughters, like matching bracelets. He’ll want six in total, one for him and his ex, three for his daughters, and one for you- just so everyone in the “family” has a common thread to bind them. A particularly young Y/N will most likely be adopted by the Tims family at the end of their journey, providing a safe and happy (if viciously protective and smothering) space for them to grow. His daughters receive letters every now and then, each one waiting anxiously to meet the individual who is; unbeknownst to them, being propositioned as a brand new family member. Even his ex is mildly excited at the thought of someone brand new to raise, given that all her daughters are grown and moving on in the world. Maybe it’s what they need to get back together… or maybe that’s just the possessiveness talking.

And for Izutsumi… she wants a new scarf. Not that she knows how to knit, or has any interest in learning, but still. The cat girl will scrounge up a hefty handful of wool and toss it into Marcille’s lap with a huff, demanding a properly knit scarf to add to her arsenal. And although she’s not exactly above whining or making threats to get her way, there’s no need- the mage is totally on board to have every member of the party decked out in the softest parts of their collective favorite member. So, Izutsumi gets her scarf, and then everyone finally has a part of Y/N to keep close and hold dear.

Not that anyone is going to start ignoring the real thing, unfortunately for you.

[ronearoundblindly]

Your days were short, but packed full of work, which was strategic. Because by the time you got home, you were exhausted and ready to go straight to bed. And the sooner you got to bed, the sooner you could see Jake, your fiancé, in your dreams. That was the only place, these days, since he’d been away for weeks on a mission that popped up out of the blue. No contact, as per usual. Longer sleeps meant longer dreams with him, but when you walked through the door, tossing your keys down on the entryway table, you weren’t sure if you had somehow already drifted off when you heard the shower running. It was paired with two combat boots kicked off at the end of the hall, and a light humming drifting through the living room you were walking through quickly to verify your suspicions. He was really home.

I'm ready. Let's do this!!! (There is no shirtless-Jake gif and I am SAD.)

Warnings for oral (m receiving), because Lexi is thirsty for shower sex apparently, and some dirty talk (petname of 'babe'). MINORS DNI. There is plenty of all-ages content on my Light Masterlist, but this is not for everyone! WC 805

A high-pitched scream whistles over the fssst of running shower. It’s so subtle Jake doesn’t notice until the thud of front door hits a low note.

“Oh shit,” he mutters, racing to rinse shampoo from his hair and suds off his face.

He grabs the safety bar with a washcloth slung over it and then juts his hand past the curtain to clasp the towel rack, barely in time to brace for the onslaught.

“JAKIE!!!!!”

The plastic shower curtain and its castors are yanked aside, and you squeal in delight, hopping over the lip of the tub—fully-clothed,—throwing your arms around his neck.

One of his feet slips under the weight.

“Hey, babe,” he says into your shoulder of still-dry cotton.

You pull back and smile. At least, he’s fairly certain you’re smiling. You’re blurry, and he’s a bit blind without his glasses.

He can hear you whine just fine though. “Too long, Jake. Way too long.”

Your hands are petting down his naked body, so Jake keeps holding onto the bars for dear life, trying not to eat shit on the slick floor. You continue anyway, fingertips tracing his abs, the cut of his hip, the happy trail he trimmed less than ten minutes ago.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I’m sorry for—“ he giggles when you pinch at the tender spot on his side “—got, I mean, we got waylaid. The team…hi."

You wiggle closer, soaked through now, leaning into him and peering up through your lashes.

A goofy grin stretches across his face. "Hi there, cutie.”

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper, waiting for his nod. “I love you, but I don’t care. No team talk. No tech talk. Just be home, okay?”

Jake groans obscenely when your hand wraps around his length.

You maintain glassy eye contact. “Been dreaming about this. You miss me, too, big guy? Huh? Ready to come home?”

“Ah fuuuck,” he grunts. “Yes. So ready. Shit…”

It has been too long. Jake climbs so high so fast, he’s dizzy, watching you sink to your knees and take his rapidly hardening cock into your mouth.

“Babe, not gonna—uhnn, Jesus—not gonna last.”

And that was before your other hand started gently rolling his balls!

You can’t judge him for this, right? It’s reasonable he blows his load in three minutes flat when he’s been waiting to fuck you for weeks, isn't it? He even planned to rub one out in the shower to prepare, but here you are, eager and sucking him so perfectly.

You pop off of the head of his dick only for a moment.

“Show me how much you missed me.”

The words are a fierce challenge he’s all-too-willing to accept, so he all but begs for your touch again, one hand finally leaving the towel rack to cup the back of your neck.

“Close,” he gasps. “Just like that.”

Jake’s had his share of dreams, too. None of them hold a candle to the real thing. The feel of your skin beneath his fingers, the tap of your nose to his pubes as you take him as deep as you can, the vibration of a pleasured hums from behind your tongue while you lick patterns along the underside of his cock; he’s done for.

He manages only ascending “oh Oh OH”s in lieu of a coherent warning, but to his sweet lady, it’s obvious. His hips fuck forward that tiny bit more, and Jake curls his torso in ecstasy, clenching his grip into your hair for a split-second before relaxing.

His long, devastating moan starts just as the first spurt of cum hits your lips.

His thighs shake while Jake babbles how much he loves you. He can’t help but get sappy when you make him feel so amazing, giving him this attention and devotion and, yeah, being a horny gremlin like he is.

“You’re so perfect,” he breathes, finished at last, home at last.

You turn in the stream of water, spitting down the drain.

Jake helps you stand and hurries to get your wet clothes off only to haul you flush to his body and kiss you.

He’s soft with these, lazy and unhurried, nuzzling your cheek, capturing you over and over for kisses that say ‘I missed you,’ ‘I love you,’ and ‘I need you.’ He hums happily when your hands stop roaming his back and begin playing with his hair.

You’re imitating how he spikes it with product, gently tugging at the frosted tips.

He lets you go to stand under the water he fears might go cold soon.

“Am I beautiful?” Jake preens, his own hands notching at your waist and squeezing instinctively.

He knows how to make you laugh just as much as you know how to make him laugh. Equally, he knows how to make you come, too.

“Alright, dirty girl, how am I repaying the favor?”

[Main Masterlist; Jake Jensen Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: no clue whether this is any good. might be stunted. might come back to edit it. maybe. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

Zoomies

Zoomies: Y/N likes to keep her private life private, especially from her close friends at Star Labs. Unfortunately, she is forced to reveal a secret of hers when her daughter’s day care closes for the day.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Toddler Shenanigans.

To Note: Barry Allen x Female!Reader, Reader has a Daughter.

Request: @twilightlover2007: My idea for the next is the team doesn't know about Y/N's life outside of working at Star Labs until one day she brings a special little guest with her due to some unforeseen circumstances. She brings in her 2 year old daughter. HR and her daughter become fast friends; I wanna see a kid fascinated by all the stuff in Star Labs and when she sees the flash suit she squeals as she's a huge fan of his. I would love for her to have feelings towards Barry but she never said anything mostly cus she's a single mama. (Dad either died or is not involved).

Authors Note: For some reason I get the feeling that HR would make a great babysitter, also, little baby gorl in flash onesie? So adorable! —🐝

Word Count: ~3.7k

“…sorry to inform you that the daycare workers of Central City’s Toddler Town are out with the flu and thus we are unable to open up the daycare to look after your little one. We offer our most sincerest apologies and will work to…” Lowering your phone, you looked at your daughter who was happily shoveling Cheerio’s into her mouth, oblivious to the troubles in your life.

“Well, looks like you’re stuck with me today, kiddo,” You sighed out, massaging the place on your forehead where you already felt a headache forming. This morning hadn’t gotten off to a good start. First, your alarm clock had failed to go off, then your daughter didn’t want to get changed into her clothes for the day, and to add to that, the daycare that usually looked after your daughter while you were at work had closed because most of its workers had come down with the flu.

It wasn’t the worse thing in the world, but life as a single mother wasn’t easy and you savored the moments you had to yourself. Well, a quick call into to work and you could work at home for the day… but your daughter would be a distraction, and a very good one at that. An idea came to you. Cisco and the others would be at the lab, and that meant plenty of extra eyes and ears to keep track of your daughter.

“Not the safest place but it’s better than stuck at home with you climbing up the walls.” You sighed to yourself, setting your phone down and reaching for a washcloth to clean up the mess your daughter had made while eating breakfast. She wasn’t that bad of a messy eater, but she did sometimes get enthusiastic with her food, and that usually ended up with food projectiles raining around the circumference of her highchair. Cleaning up the cheerios was a quick task, and by the time you were done, Y/D/N was kicking in her seat and waving her arms at you, obviously wanting down.

“Mama!” Y/D/N exclaimed, her feet kicking against the high chair. “Down, down!”

Setting aside the washcloth, you picked her up and set her against your hip before reaching for a wet wipe on the kitchen counter to wipe her… you guessed it… messy face.

“Were you eating your Cheerios or just playing with them?” You asked as she giggled and tried to hide her face from your attempts to wipe at her cheeks. Little meaty fists half heartedly smacked at your hands, and withdrawing the wet wiped, you looked at your daughter with a raised eyebrow. “What? You want to have food stuck to your face all day?”

“I want down!” She squealed, kicking her legs against your body. Letting out a soft chuckle, you lowered her to the floor and watched her dart off for her toys neatly packed away in her toy box. Keeping up with your daughter was difficult, from the moment she woke up to the moment she passed out, she was on the go. She didn’t walk, she sprinted. Where she got the energy, you didn’t know, but you did know one thing: Y/D/N was going to be a firecracker when she grew up.

You watched as she pulled out her beloved flash stuffed toy and started zooming around the kitchen, making noises as she went. She absolutely adored the Flash, he was her hero and idol. If she could grow up to be him, she would. Well, she’d be meeting Barry for the first time today, and while you wouldn’t tell her that it was him that was the Flash, she would probably be over the moon about all the Flash paraphernalia.

So while your daughter ran around, you cleaned up the kitchen and started gathering your required supplies to be working at the lab. Packing a backpack, you started adding a few things for Y/D/N to tide her over for the day, mainly a few books, some colored pencils, and several snacks. If you ran out of things to keep Y/D/N entertained at the lab, well, there was plenty there that she could play with safely. Tucking your wallet and car keys into your backpack, you shouldered it before looking around for your wayward daughter.

“Y/D/N?” You heard a giggle from the living room adjacent to the kitchen, and Y/D/N head popped up over the side of the couch, mischief in her eyes. Grabbing her coat, you held it out. “Come on, it’s time to go!”

She slipped from the couch and hurried over, her sock covered feet scurrying across the floor. Somewhere in the time you had been gathering your things, your daughter had managed to get herself into her favorite flash once complete with a hood that had little lightning bolts.

“Y/D/N…” Little lips pouted up at you as she wrapped her arms around her red covered body and turned her chin.

“Don’t wanna change!”

“What happened to the clothes you were wearing during breakfast?” You asked, your eyebrows pinching together as you looked around for the discarded clothes. She wasn’t the best at dressing herself yet, but she could wriggle in and out of clothes enough to change them. Currently, her favorite onesie that mimicked Barry’s suit, was only half zipped up, her left arm was bunched at her elbow, and the onsie itself was shifted on her body so it was longer on one side.

Just by the look on her face and the pleading in her eyes, you found yourself folding to your two and a half year’s wishes. Shaking your head while laughing, you fixed the lopsided onsie so it was on her body correctly and flipped up the hood, watching as her eyes lit up. With an enormous grin on her face, she let you put her coat on over her onesie, and that grin only widened when you pulled out her red Flash sneakers that had little wings attached to them.

“Gotta complete the look, right?” You explained as you tucked her feet into them. With her shoes and coat on, her flash stuffed toy in hand, and your backpack slung across your back, you picked her up and carried her out of the apartment.

“…above all, I need you to listen to the adults, okay?” You spoke  from where you were kneeling in front of her. “No touching things that aren’t yours or we might not be invited back.”

Y/D/N nodded at you in all seriousness, and despite the seriousness of the conversation, it was hard to keep a strait face while she was dressed so adorably. Looking up at the building, you silently wondered how your team mates would react once they found out that you, a single woman not in a relationship, had a daughter. Your life outside the team was private, you had never really talked about it because, well, single mothers didn’t usually have a good reputation. That was going to change today and you only hoped that your friends would take kindly to Y/D/N.

Taking your daughter’s tiny hand in yours, you walked towards the entrance, wondering what you were going to say when the team set their eyes on the little girl next to you dressed as the flash. When people saw her, their hearts melted she was that adorable, but would the team be mad at you because you had never told them about her? You were about to find out.

Entering the building, Y/D/N started skipping along side you, kicking her light up flash sneakers. The lights flickered off the walls of the lab and as you neared the cortex, you heard a heated conversation between Cisco and Caitlin regarding the design of Barry’s suit and the sensors within it.

“I’m telling you, it will look ridiculously cool and help with Barry’s aerodynamics.” Cisco’s voice rang out.

“That’s absurd, Cisco, his suit needs to be affective, not aesthetically pleasing.” Caitlin argued back as you and your daughter emerged from the hall. Caitlin and Cisco were standing head to head, both with sour faces.

“Aesthetics is part of the package,” Cisco insisted. Caitlin snorted and shook her head, then she caught sight of you. You waved at her as her eyes went wide and next to you, your daughter tugged on your coat.

“Mama, who are they?” She whispered, hiding behind you but poking her hooded head out from behind your legs.

“These are my friends,” You explained, lifting your eyes from your daughter to your friends. “This is Cisco and Caitlin.”

“Oh my God that’s a tiny child,” Cisco eked out with strained tone. “Why do you have a tiny child, Y/N?”

Caitlin gave Cisco a look before stepping forwards and bending down.

“Hi, my name is Caitlin. What’s your name?” Caitlin asked. Your daughter edged a little further out from behind you and kept her eyes on the floor.

“I’m Y/D/N,” She said shyly, still hugging your leg. You cleared your throat.

“Y/D/N’s daycare is closed today,” You explained, looking down at your daughter.

“I’m still trying to process the fact that you have a kid,” Cisco said, his voice high. As you were snorting, your daughter let out a dramatic gasp and darted forwards.

“Y/D/N!” You exclaimed as she moved her feet across the cortex to body slam the glass screen that covered Barry’s suit when he wasn’t using it. She pressed her face against the glass, her body practically vibrating.

“Mommy, mommy! Look, it’s the Flash!” She gasped, only briefly glancing back at you for a moment before gluing her eyes back on Barry’s suit.

“That’s not the Flash, baby,” You spoke up, hurrying forwards. “That’s just his suit, you know, like how you have your suit?”

“OMG, she’s exactly like a mini Y/N.” Cisco whispered from behind you. You shot a dirty look over your shoulder at Cisco taking a dig at your mostly hidden love for Barry. Well, a lot of people knew you loved Barry, but you know, Barry wasn’t exactly the most observant of people when it came to the romantic feelings of others. Besides, you had your daughter to look after, your feelings for Barry would always come second to her. In addition, how could you ever compete with Barry’s first love, Iris? While Y/D/N continued to fawn and preen over Barry’s suit, you took a step back and rubbed your forehead.

“You look exhausted,” Caitlin commented, walking over to where you stood. You looked at her and shook your head.

“I’m a single mother of a child that seems to have an unlimited amount of energy through the day.” You told her. “Half the time I am watching I spend chasing after her and the other half I spend searching for her. She doesn’t give me a break.”

“You could always put a tracking device on her,” Cisco chipped in as he walked over with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Your head was snapping to his faster than a mother hearing her child talk back.

“You want me to put a tracking device on my daughter!?” You hissed under your breath. Cisco held up his hands.

“I’m just saying,” He said in his defense. “You’d always know where she is.”

Sighing out in frustration, you ran hand over your head and looked back at your daughter fawning over the various Flash paraphernalia scattered around the cortex. She was having the time of her life.

“I don’t want to become a helicopter mom,” You sighed softly. Caitlin cocked her head to the side and gave you a shrug.

“You are a mom, I think you are entitled of being a helicopter mom at this age. Toddlers get themselves into the strangest of situations.” Caitlin told you before you both looked to where your daughter had been standing. She was gone.

“Snicker doodles,” You cursed, your head swiveling around in search of your daughter. “This happens every time!” Trying not to panic, you began searching for your child with Caitlin and Cisco’s help.

“I think that tracking device would be helpful right about now…” Cisco spoke as you poked your head into the nearest bathroom. She wasn’t there.

“Not the time, Cisco!” You uttered out, feeling like a bobble head with how much your head was snapping around trying to find your naughty daughter. “Y/D/N!”

“I’m sure she couldn’t have gone far,” Caitlin spoke up, going to the cortex desk and pulling up the security cameras. Just as you looked at the possible hallways Y/D/N could have wandered down… you heard a squeal of laughter coming from the labs. The three of you hurried in the direction of the labs. You hurried to the labs and upon emerging into the spacious room, you stopped short.

HR had your daughter perched on his hip while he stood in front of a white board, and your daughter was currently drawing all over the board with what you only hoped, was a dry erase marker.

“Oh thank God,” You sighed out, putting your hands on your knees and breathing out a breath in relief. You literally felt like you had lost a few years off your life, loosing Y/D/N is the labs. “Y/D/N!”

At your sharp call, Y/D/N’s head snapped around and HR looked your way.

“This little precious Flash wandered in here!” HR happily explained as you marched up to him with a frown on your lips.

“Y/D/N Y/L/N,” You started. “What did I tell you about wandering off!?”

Her lip wobbled as her face fell, she knew she shouldn’t have run off on you. You let out a sigh at her face.

“You make me worry so much when you do that. If you want to go somewhere, you need to tell me first, okay?” You said as you walked up to HR and made sure you had eye contact with your daughter.

“Sorry,” Y/D/N whispered out, slumping against HR’s shoulder. She knew she had done something wrong, and that was all you needed out of her, to recognize that what she had done was wrong. So softening your face, you let your eyes lift to HR.

“I see you made a friend?” That had her perking up and a smile starting to grow on her face. Her little face beamed up at HR and she started kicking her feet in happiness.

“HR! HR!” She chanted, her little fist gripping his shirt. HR beamed back at her and tickled her side, making more squeals of laughter erupt from her lips.

“Mystery case of where Y/D/N went is solved, I’m gonna go work on that tracking device.” Cisco said, placing a hand on your shoulder as he passed you. You didn’t have the constitution at this point to tell him otherwise.

“HR, do you mind watching Y/D/N for a little while? I need to get some work done.” You softly asked while Y/D/N went back to dragging the hopefully dry erase marker, across the white board. This time HR was beaming at you and gave you a thumbs up.

“Me and the little one can spend hours drawing!” HR said excitedly, true excitement glowing within his blue eyes. You felt better about leaving her in his hands, after all you knew that Y/D/N already seemed to adore HR and he her.

“I owe you one,” You told him before back away and leaving the two to play with the whiteboard.

The day had gone wickedly fast, much to your surprise. HR had kept Y/D/N so entertained you were sure that the two were best friends by the end of your work day. Between drawing on the whiteboard, HR reading one of his novels to her, and the finger painting session, you were convinced HR was a God at babysitting. That or he had a natural disposition with children. Either way, the pair adored each other and you dreaded the moment you had to separate them.

Work ended for you and you were shifting into team flash mode. Barry had arrived for patrol for the night and had yet to cross paths with HR and your daughter, so that conversation hadn’t happened yet. The night kept everyone busy and at some point, Y/D/N had passed out while being carried around by HR, and he hadn’t bothered to put her down. So drool was slowly collecting on his shoulder. HR hardly seemed to care, or notice that he was still carrying her around. Looks like you found yourself a potential babysitter.

You got into helping Barry navigate the streets of Central City as Cisco monitored the police channels. There wasn’t much going on tonight, mostly just a few burgleries, one fire, and a cat stuck in a tree that had already scratched three firemen trying to get it down. Barry had manged it, but he had earned himself a nice set of scratches on his cheek. It was a good thing he healed fast or his coworkers would have questions in the morning.

You were clicking through a few feeds of security camera’s when Barry blew in, done with patrolling for the night. You looked up at his cheek as he pulled down his cowl and frowned.

“That cat did a doozy on you, Barry,” You spoke. Barry let out a snort at your words and walked over to where you sat at the cortex’s curve desk.

“First time I’ve dealt with resistance during a rescue.” Barry spoke, his fingers brushing over the healing scratches. “How’s your night been? Cisco said you had to work here today?”

And there is it… how exactly did you go about talking about this? How did you tell Barry that you had been hiding your daughter away from the team since the moment you found out you were pregnant? As it turned out, you didn’t have to say anything. 

HR came walking into the cortex, your daughter still drooling away fast asleep on his shoulder, while twirling one of his drumsticks in his free hand. Barry spared him a glance and then did a double take, his brows pinching together as his mind worked over the fact that HR was carrying a child.

“B.A.!” HR exclaimed. “You’re back! How was your night?”

HR happily walked over, oblivious to Barry’s gawking, as he was his usual cheerful self. You watched as Barry’s eyes ran over your daughters form, dressed in her flash onesie, which was now dirty. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who she belonged to… she was after all, a spitting image of you. HR stuffed his drumstick in his back pocket and began patting Y/D/N’s back as he hummed and went to talk to Cisco.

Your eyes dropped to your lap as Barry turned back around to face you.

“Y/N?” Barry asked, his voice still soft. You pursed your lips and hesitantly raised your eyes to meet his in trepidation. “I— I didn’t realize you had a daughter…”

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks warm in shame.

“Yes, well, I’m not exactly proud to be a single mother.” You murmured softly. “Her daycare is closed today and I needed help watching her… she’s a handful since she never stops running around until she’s passed out from exhaustion.”

Barry’s face softened and he let out a breath through his nose.

“Nonstop the whole day? Sounds like she’s got a serious case of the zoomies.” He chuckled. You joined in and rubbed your tired eyes.

“Yes, well, she also idolizes the Flash. I think she’s trying to get as fast as him.” You reply, glancing at your daughter passed out on HR’s shoulder. “She’s obsessed with that onesie.”

“She’s cute,” Barry commented before studying you closer. “You know, Y/N, we wouldn’t have judged you for being a single mother.”

“I know, it’s my pride,” You admitted. “As a single mother I think I’m trying to prove that I am capable of providing for her the way she needs.”

“You don’t need to do that alone,” Barry told you, giving you one of his heart stopping smiles. “We’re here for you, just like you’ve always been here for us. Next time you need help just call me.”

“Barry, I can’t ask that of you. Not when you are dealing with your own issues and Iris…” You told him. Barry shook his head at you.

“Iris and I broke up a while ago, we just don’t seem to work.” He explained, rolling his head to the side. “We— it’s probably not ever going to work, I thought I loved her for so many years. I’ve been ignorant to those around me.”

You shrugged at him.

“You were in love, Barry.” He scratched the back of his head.

“Was I?” Barry asked, his eyes momentarily distant. “Look, Y/N, I know if this sounds weird, but do you want to go out some time? I feel like I’ve never really known you and I want to know you better.”

You stared at Barry, your cheeks warming. Barry must have seen something on your face because he was turning a shade of pink and scrambling for words.

“I know you’re busy with Y/D/N and all, but I also want to get to know her too, she’s important in your life. Probably the most important thing actually, I mean, she already likes the Flash? You think I have a chance at getting her to like me?” You started laughing at Barry’s word scramble.

“Barry, I’m pretty sure she’ll like you the way you are, no Flash needed to convince her.” You told him. Barry’s face turned bright once more.

“Great! Because there is this Flash day event involving kids, there’s support to be a bunch of little kid activities she might like and since she already likes the Flash…”

“She’ll love that.” You spoke, cocking your head at your sleeping daughter. “She eats, sleeps, and breathes, all things Flash.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details when I get home,” Barry said with a glowing smile before the two of you looked back over to HR who was still patting Y/D/N on the back. He really didn’t seem to even know he was doing it. “He’s a natural with kids, isn’t he.”

“Surprising, isn’t it.” You said with a tired sigh. “But those two sure seem to adore each other.”

Date Published: 6/30/22

Last Edit: 5/1/23

Barry Allen Masterlist

[babyonboard]

in sickness & in health | Don Hume x f!reader

Summary- nursing Don back to health. Part 1?

Warnings- fluff, talk of being sick (fever, nausea, etc.)

Word count- 2.2k

Fiddling with the thermostat, silently begging it to go lower, you glanced over your shoulder. Don was laying in bed, his eyes closed and his breathing slow. The sweat on his forehead was visible, and you could see that his eyebrows were slightly furrowed in discomfort. Giving up on the temperature, you decided on another course of action. 

This was not a part of your plan for your trip to Germany. You had been ecstatic to receive an invite, of course you would be there as a nurse, but you didn’t think they would actually need you. Yet, here you are, desperately nursing the stroke of the team to health. Now, it felt like it would be your fault if he didn’t get better, it would be your fault if they lost. You were beginning to wish you never accepted this position. 

You should be in the audience of the olympic opening ceremony right now, where you had originally intended to be. Yet, here you were, digging through the bathroom to find a washcloth. 

“Here we go.” You spoke under your breath, pulling a washcloth out of a drawer. You wet it with cold water, praying that this method would lower his fever. 

Don stirred when you sat on the side of the bed. “Hey.” You whispered. He mumbled a response that you couldn’t make out. 

You set the wash cloth on his forehead, his eyes cracked open. “How are you feeling?” You asked softly, brushing his hair away from his forehead. 

“Mmm.” He hummed. “Not that good.” 

You nodded and subconsciously continued to stroke his hair. “You think the medicine from earlier helped at all?”

He shrugged lightly. “A little.” His voice was low and husky, his eyes half lidded.

“What else can I get you?” You noticed how warm his head was, wondering if his fever had gone down at all.

“Nothing.” He said, closing his eyes again. “I’m okay for now.”

“Nothing at all?” You asked. “I could get you something to eat. Anything in the world.”

He stirred. “I don’t think I can eat right now. But thank you.”

“Okay.” You agreed. “Let me know if you change your mind.” He nodded softly and even though the conversation was over, you stayed for a moment. Observing his face, he truly did not look good. Your heart sunk a little, you only have a day and a half to get him feeling better before the race.

Despite his protest, you still went and got him food, he hasn’t eaten all day. Some crackers and a little bit of juice won’t hurt him. He was awake when you got back, sitting up in bed, reading a book. “Hi.” You smiled.

He gave you a classic Don nod. No words, no smile, but you knew he was hard to crack. You didn’t know Don personally before all of this, but you’ve seen him around before. He’s shy, always trying to fade into the background, but that’s never how you saw him. He always stood out to you, his sweetness, his quiet charm, that was the Don you knew. So you didn’t take his quietness personally. 

“What are you reading?” You asked absentmindedly. 

“Oh… um…” He stuttered. The embarrassment drained whatever color the sickness had left his face. 

You looked at the book, and realized it was yours. “Oh, I don’t care.” You waved your hand. Although it is your copy of The Great Gatsby, annotated and all, he could read it. The sweet, lanky boy in the bed could have ripped it up and burned it and you would still tell him you didn’t care. 

“Sorry.” He closed the book and set it on the nightstand. “Just bored.” He croaked, scrambling for an excuse. 

“Don, you can read my book. It’s okay.” You smiled. He folded his hands and looked down at the bed. You had no idea why he was so flustered, but that wasn’t your main concern right now. “I brought you something to eat.” You extended the small plate of crackers to him. He stared at it, then at you. “Don, you need to eat.”

He took a breath in, then silently grabbed the plate. “Thanks.” He spoke quietly. 

You nodded, then sat on the end of the bed. Much to your delight, he slowly began to eat the crackers. It was silent while he did so, and it never crossed your mind that it might be weird to sit there and watch him eat, but you couldn’t help it. 

“I saw the boys in the lobby. Opening ceremony went well.” You spoke into the quiet room. 

He nodded. Once again, no words. 

“They were all asking about you. Wondering how you’re doing.” You smoothed out the quilt, accidentally running your hand over his leg as you did so.

“What’d you tell them?” He asked, seeming concerned. 

“I told them you’ll be okay.” You looked at your lap. That could most definitely be a lie. If he kept at the pace he was going now, there is no way he would feel better by the race.

“I will be.” He reassured you, almost sensing your hesitance. You nodded in response, and it was quiet again. “Thanks for helping me, by the way. Probably would’ve died by now without you.” He cracked a small smile.

That was the first time you had heard Don make a joke, let alone smile. “Of course, Don. That’s my job.” You smile at him, his deep brown eyes holding you in a trance. “I’m… more than happy to do it.”

“Happy?” He blinked. “I’m sure you don’t like doing this.”

“Do you know how many girls would kill to be in my position? Taking care of the stroke of the olympic team?” You giggled.

His brain scrambled for a response. “I… that’s just not true.” He shook his head out of insecurity. 

“No, Don, it is.” you spoke assertively. You weren’t lying. Don was a hot topic of conversation, right behind George Hunt, of course. “Girls love you.”

He couldn’t tell if he was lightheaded from his fever or the thought of you talking about him with your friends. “W-what?” He stuttered out.

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “You’re the sweetest guy on the team, everyone knows that. You should’ve heard everyone after you played the piano at the victory party. They love you, truly.”

He blinked a few times in disbelief. He must be having a fever dream. The doll who sat exactly 6 rows behind him in his biology lecture was sitting on his bed, her hand on his leg as she told him how many girls love him. He could hardly form words.

It made you giggle, his shyness. You could see the blush in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “All I’m saying is, I think I’m a pretty lucky girl.”

Words failed him, his brain failed him, all he could focus on was the way you squeezed his leg over the blanket as you talked. He hardly even heard you ask if he was finished eating. You took the plate from him and set it on the nightstand, exchanging it for your copy of The Great Gatsby. You held it out to him, his eyes meeting yours, hoping you didn’t see the slight shake of his hand as he grabbed it from you. 

“I’m gonna go shower, but I’ll be back. Do you need anything before I go?” You asked. 

He shook his head and looked down at the book in his lap. While you were gone, he was able to read a few chapters, but he found himself paying more attention to your annotations than he did the words of the actual book. He particularly liked the smiley faces you wrote next to the scenes you liked. He found himself rereading Gatsby and Daisy’s kiss scene that you had underlined in purple ink. It made him blush, thinking about you reading this part. He ran his fingers over the purple ink over and over again, thinking about your hands delicately underlining it. 

His eyes grew heavy as he read, and he eventually thought it would be a good idea to get some rest. He fell asleep thinking about the kiss scene, switching out the characters with himself and a certain nurse who happened to be taking care of him.

The lights were off when you returned, and you could hear his heavy breathing, indicating that he was asleep. Of course, you wanted to let him get his rest, but you needed to take his temperature one last time before you went to sleep. Trying to wake him up as gently as you could, you rubbed his back softly. That didn’t work, so you moved your hand up to run through his hair. His eyes cracked open at the feeling of your fingers twisting in his hair. 

“Hi.” You whispered, scratching his head lightly. “Can I take your temperature?”

He nodded and hummed a yes, and you brought the thermometer to his lips. You tisked your tongue when you saw that it read 101, it had only gone down one degree since this morning. “It’s still pretty high.” You whispered, not surprised by the lack of response from him. “I’m gonna stay here for a little longer, make sure you're okay.”

He sleepily nodded and closed his eyes again. You ran your fingernails softly up and down his back. The room was quiet, but you could hear some light chatter and music coming through the open window. By the way he was breathing, you could tell he was no longer sleeping, but you continued scratching up and down his bare back, hoping to bring him a little bit of comfort in his sick state.

There was no way Don could fall asleep, not with the weight of you sitting next to him, especially not with the feeling of your fingers on his back. Despite his fever, he swore he had goosebumps from the feeling. He would get this sick every day for the rest of his life if it meant he got to keep receiving this treatment from you. 

You have no idea how long you sat there scratching his back, occasionally making your way up to his hair to scratch his head. It went on for a while before Don spoke up begrudgingly, saying “You should get some sleep.”

A deep sigh left your mouth. Yes, you should sleep, but you felt a duty to watch over him. “I need to stay with you for a little longer.” You reassured in a whisper.

Maybe it was his fever messing with his head, maybe it was because he felt so bad that you had to stay up with him, but Don did something out of pure instinct, knowing that you needed to sleep. He lifted the blanket that was covering him and scooched over in the small bed, making room for you. He nodded as a gesture for you to lay down. “You should sleep.” He said softly.

Your heart swelled at the sight. With no protest, you slid right next to him under the covers. Don could hardly believe what he just did, but he couldn’t be happier that he did it. Neither of you were sure what to do, of course both of you wanted to wrap the other up in your arms, but neither of you did. Just laying there, next to each other, hearing the other breathing and feeling the heat radiating from the other's body was enough.

On something of a confidence streak, Don noted the absence of your hand on his back. “Can you keep scratching my back?” He said softly. 

Saying nothing, you smiled and ran your hand up his back. His reaction was noticeable, his whole body relaxed and his eyes fell shut. He unintentionally fell asleep almost immediately. The exhilaration of laying in the same bed as Don kept you awake, but you were more than happy to lay there rubbing his back until you fell asleep in the hazy hours of the early morning.

[pixiesfz]

could you write about sam being sick and still playing through a game and the reader just takes care of her afterwards etc? i loved your jessie fic so much 😭😭🫶🏼

Stubborn girls s.k x r

plot: After a family night out Sam gets food poisoning, y/n tells her not to play but she doesn’t listen.

warning: reader and Sam have a child, sickness and vomiting , I’m writing this on my phone, I also don’t know how to cure food poisoning so just go with it

“I liked that place” You said as Sam opened the door for you and your sleeping daughter who you know held “I’m not sure my stomach isn’t feeling right”

“Well that is because you got the seafood which I said don’t get because-“

You were cut off as your wife ran to the toilet it wasn’t till later you heard Sam hurling up the last of her dinner.

you walked to the bathroom with your little toddler still in your arms who now stirred awake.

“Sam?” You asked at the door “I’m alright” she said “you sure? The colour in your face says different” you pointed at her face as Sam once again had her face in the toilet.

“Mama sick” your toddler said from your shoulder and you nodded “yeah cause she ate the seafood” you mumbled and your wife groaned.

“Time to go to bed bubba” You told your daughter who merely nodded “Sam are you okay?” You asked her again and she nodded “It’s a one time thing I reckon” her Australian accent shining through, you nodded and walked your daughter to her room.

“Mama got game tomorrow” your daughter said and you nodded “correct but mama is sick and shouldn’t play” you smiled at your daughter even though your words were serious “but mama said she’s fine”

“Mama lies a lot”.

You made sure your daughter was in bed and asleep before you made your way to the kitchen and grabbed medicine and a washcloth which you put u der the cold water from the sink.

“Sammy” you sung out, expecting her to be in the bed but she was still in the bathroom. You sighed as you now knew that she shouldn’t play tomorrow.

Sam seemed to read your mind as she looked up to you “I’m fine I promise” she said but you shook your head “Your skin is pale, you have bags under your eyes and your head has been stuck in the toilet for about” you checked your watch “twenty minutes now”

“Twenty minutes?” Sam asked and you nodded “little darling was a bit woke when she heard you chuck up” you said before you sat down next to Sam and took off your shoes “I’m fine-“ “No you’re not” you cut off Sam.

You rose your brows at her which she looked away from “you have food poisoning” you told her before bringing the medication and the washcloth out.

Sam excepted it as you put it on her forehead “You know you can’t play tomorrow” you told her and she groaned “we are versing Arsenal tomorrow I am playing” she said “what and vomit all over the pitch, no way am I watching that” you said before filling up a glass of water.

“Here take these” you said before pushing the tablets out to her, she did and you stroked her hair “just know that your team would rather you play healthy rather than play sick” you said and she leaned into your touch “I love you” she said with a smile.

“Are you trying to trick me into telling you that you can play”

“No”

You looked at her again.

“Maybe” she admitted and you gave her a sweet kiss on her temple “you missed” she whispered, a joke between the two of you on how you had your first kiss.

“I am not kissing you on the lips until you drink that water and have those tablets” you said before sitting up “I’ll grab you pyjamas and I’ll put a bucket next to our bed, if you need to wake me then do” you told Sam with a stern voice as she usually would try to hide any sickness or injury from you.

You grabbed her a pair of trackie shorts and a used oversized top and a bucket before placing the bucket to Sam’s side of the bed and passing the clothing to her.

“I love you” Sam said “and I truly mean it this time” she smiled “I love you too, in sickness and in health” you joked before giving her a soft kiss on the lips.

You crashed into your bed fairly quickly after and fell asleep, when you woke up you went to cuddle into Sam only to find an empty space.

Opening your eyes, you groaned to see your wife not present in the bed, then you checked the clock to see the time.

10 am.

You shot up, you were supposed to be up at 8, your alarm should’ve woken you up it always does.

Then you saw the paper on top of Sam’s pillow.

‘I feel better now and went to the game, sorry’

“That evil little Australian mother fucker” you swore to yourself before you heard a gasp behind you.

“Mummy swore!” Your daughter said from behind you “no she didn’t” you said very quickly to the giggly girl

“You said fuck!” she yelled before running away.

You sighed to yourself as you ran your fi hers through your hair. Grabbing your phone you saw to see that Sam turned off your alarm.

You then called her in anger which she didn’t pick up. Rolling your eyes you got up and put your jeans and your Chelsea jersey on “Well if she says she’s fine then let’s go watch”.

You got ready quickly and then got your daughter ready who had thankfully have seemed to forget about her new word she had learned.

You out on her Chelsea beanie and top and you both drove to the game. It would be around the second half once you got there.

“Hey y/n where you been, did you sleep in?” One of Your girlfriends team mates sister teased as you sat in the family and friends section. “You can say something like that.

“Mama Sick!” Your daughter smiled to her and she nodded her head “I could tell something was off because right now we’re getting smashed” she said and you furrowed your brows “what?” She pointed at the score.

3-1

You let your daughter look over the gate as you shook your head and looked for Sam “can you see Mama?” You asked your daughter and she laughed “Mama off” she said and you looked to the corner to see Sam subbed off.

You hated to say it because you loved her so much but she looked terrible.

Her tan skinned turned green and her bags under eyes were so dark she must not have slept last night.

When the siren went You saw Millie who went to go to your daughter “get Sam” you told her as she picked your daughter up “Is Mama in trouble?” Millie sang out to your daughter who laughed at the older girl

“how bout, lie to your wife, turn her alarm off so she doesn’t know that your playing sick type of mad?” You said

“Mummy is very mad” your daughter told Millie who opened her eyes wide “I’ll go get her” she said and went off, you didn’t want to get mad at her in public so you shook your head “tell her to meet me at home”

When you next saw Sam she walked into the kitchen where you sat with your daughter, watching her favourite show and she walked up to you with her head down “What you upset that I didn’t wake up later?” You asked and she shook her head.

When she looked up your heart almost broke, her eyes were shiny and her face was red, she had been crying.

“I’m sorry” she said and sniffed and you quickly got yo and held her “it’s okay” you said before you shook your head “actually it’s not okay but we can get to that later” you told her as you rubbed her back up and down.

When she sat down next to you she put her head on your shoulder “I shouldn’t of played, I just put them one man down, I couldn’t do anything special” she said and you grabbed her hand “You don’t need to do something special every time you play Sam”

“I know since the World Cup eyes have been on you but I want you to know that you are allowed to make mistakes and take time for yourself without being a bad player or being selfish”

She looked up to you with glossy eyes “I love you so much, you always know what to say” you smiled “I know and that’s why you married me” you smirked, knowing this time you were right.

“Mummy said fuck!”

Both of your heads whipped to your daughter who was smiling with her doll.

“Mummy said what?” Sam asked your daughter with a smirk.

You were somehow both in the doghouse that night.