#and having always been mortified and embarrassed by the shit yall would say back in the day

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

ok everybody block dnp on all socials they have eyes everywhere. they know way to much. those omniscient fuckers are always watching. no one is safe.

like what do you MEAN you know about those stupid “real voice” compilations and people absolutely clowning about jumpcuts and smudged whiskers and what do you MEAN you’re aware of those 2009 phan theories people still debate to this day? what happened to “i don’t check my indirects” “i don’t go on the tags”?? i bet you’re lurking RIGHT NOW reading this very post. all men do is lie. can’t trust anyone 😤😪

[wh6res]

WHEN YOU FIND OUT HE HAS AN ONLYFANS BC HE ACCIDENTALLY CASTED HIS LAPTOP SCREEN TO THE SMART TV

feat. the ‘00 line : tw suggestive

✰ — RENJUN is mortified. wtf his screen turned black right as he was cropping off his face from the video of himself masturbating in the car, where he does most of his onlyfans content bc duh he can’t do it in the apartment. you were always straight home after classes. a homebody. he cant just splay himself on the bed and moan and whine loudly to his heart’s content or else you’ll hear him and god no he’d rather die than you finding out he has an onlyfans. but just as he was furiously pressing the space button of his laptop to get it work somehow, your head pokes inside the door. “uhm, renjun i think you accidentally casted your screen on the tv” “ha ha what? no i did not” and right on cue, he hears the very distinct “ugh baby bet you want this cock in your mouth don’t you? i do too” coming from the living room and his cheeks were tinged red when he fell to his knees. “yn please let me explain!”

✰ — JENO is proud. you and him are quite close, he wouldn’t call it being bestfriends but still, he’s comfortable in your presence and so are you with him. its not that he’s keeping his onlyfans a secret, it’s just you never really asked anyway so he didn’t tell you anything. you and him were chilling in the living room like always. just you getting some readings done on the coffee table while he edits his pictures on the sofa. he had his earphones on and everything and was just doing quick last touchups for this latest nude pic he’s going to post tonight. just when his laptop screen turned black, the smart tv opened on its own, you and jeno’s eyes widened questioningly until there it was. his nude pic; standing before the gym’s locker room mirror, holding his hard dick on one hand, phone on the other, with his tongue teasingly peaking out. “okay but can i see the real thing right now?” jeno doesn’t let the shock paint his features. simply, he smirks.“fine but no drooling”

✰ — HAECHAN is shameless. he’d be kinda confused as to why his laptop’s screen suddenly turned black on him while he’s editing the audio for a new video he’ll be uploading in the weekend. he’d be plugging up his laptop charger bc he thought the device was drained, until he heard slick sounds and his moans coming from the living room. where you were. holy shit. when he bolts out his room, he finds you choking on your chips, sat upright on the couch as you can’t even take your eyes off the screen. he was going to apologize but when he saw the pink tinge on your cheeks and the way your legs clenched as you watched the video of him jerking himself off, he didn’t feel sorry. “are you that fascinated that you can’t take your eyes off my cock, baby? there’s more where that came from” and when you shyly waddled inside his room well... “hey wanna make a sex video with me? we can split the money”

✰ — JAEMIN is clueless. so like jeno, jaem over here isn’t going crazy trying to keep his onlyfans a secret. he wanted to tell you initially about it but the topic was never breached in everyday conversation until eventually he forgot to tell you about it completely. he had been streaming live that night until his toe might’ve accidentally pressed the button that said screencast just as he was about to cum all over his hands. meanwhile you in the living room, raised an eyebrow when the movie cuts and you see him on screen, right when he says “i wish you were here with me. your pussy would feel amazing choking my cock” when his stream was over, he hears a knock on his bedroom door and he immediately put his pjs back on before opening it. “hey jaem thanks for free content, thats some good stuff you have there. maybe i can join in sometime, okay thats all i have to say! bye~” “uh wait hold tf up what do you mean”

✰ — YANGYANG is relieved. okay so yeah he’s keeping it a secret but only because from what he remembers, you were always more on the conservative side. bb is scared you might kick him out if you find out he’s a content creator at onlyfans. okay definitely, his secret keeping needs a little bit of work because he literally left the tab open, right on his profile. you and him were working on a project together and you had insisted he casts his laptop screen on the tv for the presentation file and boiiiii he accidentally casted the wrong tab omfg im dying. his fingers trembled trying to find the uncast button as the most recent video he posted autoplayed “hey babe, you back? daddy’s been waiting for such a long time i missed your sweet pussy” but he pauses when he hears you laughing. “omg yangyang! i cant believe you have a daddy kink wtf!” well at the end of the day, he’s just relieved he doesn’t have to hide it from you anymore and he can still live here.

✰ — SHOTARO is cheeky. okay if yalls think he’s going to be all innocent and embarrassed and soft uwu about the whole thing lmao hell no. i dont think he is. i bet he’s hiding all that sexayyy charisma under that cute face and it’s also probably why he’d have a hoard of people on his onlyfans. addicted to the contrast of that cute, soft voice of his going deep and domineering when the led lights in his room turn red. okay so you were running around the room almost late to your appointment when he “accidentally” hits screencast on his laptop. and suddenly the smart tv opened and he tried gulping down his laughter when you literally stopped in your tracks and watched the video of him unfold. “i bet baby’s laying down right now with her fingers shoved inside her cunny, getting off at the sight of my cock, hm slut?” your eyes widened like saucers and shit your pussy just clenched. “taro wtf is that-that you?” “i don’t know, why don’t you come here and find out, baby?”

headcanon reqs are open bitches !! had so much fun making this lmao idk alot abt onlyfans so im sorry if some of the details are wrong :'>

[atiny-piratequeen]

Dear Miss Fie, yesterday, I made up my mind to leave Tumblr. I even said goodbye to anyone. I hadn't logged out, so I got notifications. Against my better judgement, i decided to check it and ended up spending a good few minutes on it. When I saw what happened with your account, I'm very embarrassed. I feel mortified actually. That someone who hates me is going after you. I'm glad that Mr Lilac, Ms Atinyarmy and Ms yunhofingers whom I know defended you. I genuinely and wholeheartedly apologise. I was not thinking of deactivating. But if I do, maybe if do it this could end. I feel so awful. I just... I'm sorry.

I legit don't know why you're apologizing. Im sorry if this comes off weird sounding but you're not the first person I've defended and had hate anons come to my box and bark and woof at me from behind their little wall of anonymity. You wont be the last.

You and the dumbass "anon" following me are new to my blog so you dont know how i work here so I'll just tell you flat out what people who've been following me for a while already know;

There's not a single thing some fuckass on anon can say to me that will legitimately make me take them seriously. Ive always had the mentality that if you've got something to fucking say, you say it with your chest and people talking shit on anon are only solidifying that every time they spew whatever bullshit from their mouth, they're not even remotely ready to own up to the consequences of their own actions. They hide because they wanna talk shit and dont wanna have people tell others about their actions if they're an active blog, dont wanna be kicked from nets or blocked, dont wanna deal with other people dming them and sending them asks that are just as harassing or tear apart whatever they sent someone else.

Thats why anons send hate on anon. Because they're cowards.

This person deleted their blog. Made a whole new one, new email and all, and came back to me conviently the same day you said you'd leave to...? Continue making a fucking fool out of themselves. They literally didnt make me upset in the slightest yesterday and i can assure you my friends and i spent a jolly good time fucking laughing at them for their piss poor attempt to do so. They're my fan at this point, hope they kick back and read a few fics since they're already here swimming around my blog all in my business again.

And the thing about the bullshit display we saw yesterday is yall all got to see the same ignorant shit i was sending scs for in my dms. This person with their shitty grammar and their anti black ass mentality that lines up with some drunk ass white karen in walmart in 3am annoying people about "why cant it just be ALL lives matter" ass vibes. I can assure you. Not a single thing that stale granola bar yesterday said actually did anything to me.

You dont need to apologize for shit. If i was worried about someone coming to my blog and saying something to me for defending you, i would have went on anon to defend you, i wouldn't have dropped this blog instead of my main, i wouldn't have dmmed that person first when they were harassing you. I could care less about them being in my ask box and while i appreciate the others having my back, even if they didnt, i would've been fine handling Ronald McDonald the clown in my box just fine.

As I've said, you arent the first person I've stood up for and defended and suddenly had bitch ass anons in my box and you won't be the last. Thats just what Mama Fie does. Now stop apologizing on behalf of someone else's ignorance, drink some water, have a snack or a meal, and enjoy your day. Because baby i assure you, im doing just fine here.

[hrina]

French Fries and Feelings

PAIRING: Harry/Y/N RATING: R bitches! WORD COUNT: 3.5k REQUESTED: nope, i was just feelin inspired!

this took me roughly four hours to churn out, and i wrote it while i was supposed to be studying for midterms. are my priorities fucked? yes. do i regret it? no.

anyway, i’m SUPER proud of this one-shot and i rly hope yall like it! if u do, please don’t hesitate to give me feedback, it means the world! also, gentle reminder to REBLOG THE FICS YOU LIKE!!! it’s the only way for us writers to get our work out there. i love yall, take care, and happy reading!! xo

~*~

"Harry!" You knock four times on the door with a loose fist. "Open up, I know you're in there!"

There's a muffled bang from inside the apartment, and then he's indeed there, swinging open the door and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. In your inebriated state, you're painfully aware of the fact that he's only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants, his feet and chest bare. His dark tattoos are on display, seeming to shift and flutter against his skin as he steps forward and is met with the bright light of the hallway.

"'Course I'm here," Harry growls, squinting tiredly. "It’s two in the fuckin' morning, love. Couldn't this wait?"

"No," you say stubbornly, and then you're holding up the small, red carton in your hand. "Nick and I stopped for some munchies, but the McDonald's we were at said that they ran out of salt. Can you believe that? Fucking salt!"

"The nerve."

"I know!" you flip your hair over your shoulder, wobbling a bit in the heels that are just a bit too tall for you. You should have known to bring an extra pair of flats, but the purse slung over your body is too small, and you had wanted to look good; it had been a while since you joined your friends for a night out.

"Not to be rude," Harry starts, burying his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. "But what does waking me up at two in the bloody morning have to do with your shitty food?"

"I need to salt them, don't I?" You say, lifting one eyebrow theatrically. Harry's lips part in surprise, and you're hit with the sudden urge to just lurch forward and cover his mouth with your own. His eyes are puffy, and his cheeks are rosy, and he looks so soft, even though you know that his biceps—when flexed—could rival the size of your head.

"You’re here 'cause you need to salt your chips?" Harry echoes, and you nod enthusiastically. He shakes his head and chuckles. "That's so fucking stupid."

"Fuck you!" you protest. "I like salty stuff!"

Immediately, you regret your sentence, and you want to curl into a drunk, embarrassed ball when Harry smirks darkly. He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, and you cover your face with your free hand (mostly to hide your humiliation, but also because it's the only way that you'll be able to keep yourself from ogling him).

"You gonna let me in, or what?" you pout, your words a bit muffled from behind your palm. Harry just releases an exasperated chuckle, stepping to the side and gesturing for you to come in. You peek through your fingers and stagger forward, and he flips on the light so that you can make out your way down the hall.

"Should probably take off your shoes," he tells you. "One step away from twisting an ankle, you are."

"Don't tell me what to do," you mutter, but you still bend down, reaching for the clasp of your heels. You shriek when you nearly lose your balance, and a few of the fries in your hand spill onto the floor.

“Shit,” Harry says, instinctively placing his hands on your waist to steady you. Your eyelids flutter shut for only a moment when you register the heat of his palms, but then you reach forward and press your forearm against the wall of his front entrance to keep yourself from falling.

“Sorry,” you moan solemnly and hang your head, as though you’re mourning the fries you’ve lost.

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll clean it in the morning.”

You nod, still fumbling with the strap of your shoes and whining in frustration, your fingers clumsy and uncoordinated in your current state. Harry sighs, squeezing your sides to get your attention. You peer up at him and he tilts his chin downward before saying, “Sit down, yeah? I’ll get them off.”

“I’ll get you off,” you grumble, mildly upset that he seems to think that you can’t even remove your footwear. Only a moment later do you truly process your words, and then you’re gasping, whipping your head around and covering your face once more.

Harry cackles, the sound raspy and deep. You groan, completely mortified yet again. Harry bites his lip to keep his smile from splitting across his face, sniffling slightly as he watches you with twinkling eyes.

“Maybe later,” he says, winking playfully. “Came here for only one thing, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” you choke out. “Salt.”

Harry nods; he’s trying to act serious, but he’s doing a terrible job. “That’s right. Salt.”

You teeter backward, stopping only once you feel the wall hit your shoulders. With a quiet grunt, you slide down the surface, ending up on the floor with your legs extended in front of you. Harry smiles softly, kneeling down in front of you and coaxing your foot into his lap. You stay silent as he unclasps the strap of your heel from around your ankle, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he pulls it off. He removes the other shoe just as effortlessly, and you moan appreciatively and flex your toes, happy to be rid of the awful footwear.

“Better?”

“Yeah.” You pause before adding, “Marry me, please.”

Harry laughs again.

~*~

Once you’ve finally gotten the salt in your grasp, Harry needs to physically pull it away after seeing how much you dump into the carton of fries. “Oi!” he yelps, his long fingers circling around your wrist. You whine in protest when he pries the shaker from your grip, but he just shakes his head disbelievingly.

“Gonna give yourself a heart attack,” he huffs out. 

You pout, and he reaches up, flicking your protruding bottom lip with his thumb. A shiver runs down your spine at the contact, and you suddenly realize how close he’s standing. His hip is pressed against the side of your knee, and you have to fight the urge to shift from where you’re sat on the counter and to eliminate what little space is left.

Harry seems to notice at the same time, setting the salt down next to the sink and peering up at you intensely. It’s usually quite easy for you to read him—all you have to do is meet his gaze. He’s always been good at controlling the other features of his face, but his eyes…his eyes reveal everything. They’ve shown you every emotion that he’s harboured: joy, sadness, anger, disgust. If the eyes really are a window to the soul, then Harry truly has bared himself to you—has let you strip down all his layers to reach the very essence of who he is.

But this…

You’ve never seen him like this.

His pupils have dilated, leaving only a thin ring of green to circle the black. You would usually attribute this look to that of anger, but something is off. When he’s angry, his gaze is shallow, like he’s closed himself off from all further interactions. This is different—it appears as though his stare is never-ending, like he’s opening himself up to more. It’s penetrating, it’s incessant, and it’s searing. It ignites every cell in your body and sets you aflame.

“Want a fry?” you ask, and then the moment is gone. You hold out the red carton as the words scrape against the roof of your mouth, and Harry’s eyes reflexively fall to your hand. He blinks a few times before nodding slightly.

“Just one,” he concedes, before flashing you a wicked grin. “Gotta reward myself for doing some late-night charity work.”

You gasp, shoving at his bare shoulder before he can pluck a fry out of the cardboard container. “You dick!”

“I’m joking!” Harry laughs, holding up his arms to shield himself from any further blows. “Christ, woman!”

“Take it back,” you order sulkily. “You know I’m an emotional drunk.”

“Fine,” Harry smiles; his eyes are tender when they meet yours. “I take it back, yeah? You’re wonderful.”

You sniffle. “Thank you.”

Harry watches as you set down your fries and hold out your arms, evidently waiting for him to step into your embrace. He grins and places a firm hand on your knee, angling it to the side so that he has enough room to slot himself in between your legs and wrap his arms around your midsection. You sigh contentedly, hooking your chin onto his shoulder as he buries his face in your neck. The two of you stay like that for a little while, and your body relaxes a bit more as each second draws out slowly.

“H?” you say.

He hums, gearing up to pull away, but you only squeeze him tighter. “No, no, stay there. You’re warm.”

He’s warm, yes, but you refrain from telling him that it’ll also be much easier for you to speak if he’s not staring into your soul with those fucking eyes.

“Alright,” he chuckles. “What is it, then?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip fiercely before letting the words tumble out. “I didn’t come here for just one thing.”

“What do you mean?” Harry’s breath tickles your collarbones.

“Like—,” you silently curse yourself for not being articulate enough, “I needed the salt, yeah, because those fries tasted like complete shit without it—,” Harry’s body rumbles with a quiet snicker, “—but also…I wanted to see you, y’know?”

You’re staring up at the ceiling now, praying that he can’t feel the wild thumping of your heart. He’s silent, completely still against you, and you know that if he doesn’t speak up soon, you’re going to cry. There’s already a hot pinch behind your eyes, and your throat has closed up, leaving you with no other choice but to wait for the tears.

And then you feel it.

It’s soft at first—so soft that you think you’d imagined it. But then it happens again, a bit firmer this time, a bit damper, and your breathing stutters to a stop.

“Is this okay?” Harry rasps. The deep quality of his voice makes you shudder.

You nod against his shoulder before realizing that he can’t see you, and so you whisper out a quiet yet firm, “Yes.”

That’s all the permission he needs, then, and he continues, littering soft kisses along the skin of your neck. Your body melts into his, and you’re sure you would have fallen backward if not for the way that his arms are tightly wound around your waist.

Your eyelids flutter shut, and you allow one of your hands to slip down, your palm splaying flat against his back. You feel the way his muscles shift and contract beneath the smooth skin, and the sensation alone has you wanting to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the pressure that’s slowly but surely building at your core.

“Harry,” you breathe. “Harry, I’m—”

“What?” he questions lowly, pulling his face out of your neck. The two of you are finally face-to-face again, and though it should make you nervous, it only spurs you on.

“I like you,” you blurt. “Or—or I ‘fancy’ you, or whatever the hell you want to hear. But…yeah.”

Harry grins; his right hand comes up to cup your face, his thumb rubbing idle circles against your cheek. “I like slash fancy you, too,” he says. “’If that wasn’t obvious already.”

“It wasn’t.” You chew on your bottom lip and laugh nervously.

Harry cocks an eyebrow. “No? Better figure out a way to show you, then.” He smirks for a moment, but then his expression falters and melts into serious sincerity. “If that’s alright with you, of course.”

“It is,” you say quickly, nodding enthusiastically. “It is.”

He grins before leaning in and slotting his lips against yours.

You’ve always imagined what it would be like to kiss Harry. You’ve often caught yourself wondering about the texture of his lips, and the way they would move against yours. You’ve thought long and hard about his technique, whether he likes to work his way up to more intense movements or if he just simply dives in because he can’t wait. You’ve fantasized about different types of kisses—deep and passionate ones that scream with need, short and loving ones when one of you is rushing out the door, tender and unorthodox ones that land on cheeks and foreheads and wherever else your mouths can reach.

But, surprisingly enough, you’ve never wondered about what your first kiss with Harry would be like.

You know that any daydream you would’ve conjured up could never compare to the real thing, though.

His lips are soft and smooth, and his technique is definitely a force to be reckoned with. You whimper into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip, quickly soothing the sting with the tip of his tongue. Harry’s hands anchor themselves against your cheeks, keeping you steady. When he pulls back for a much-needed gulp of air, you subconsciously lean forward and chase after him.

“Easy,” he giggles—the sound is music to your ears. “Gotta breathe, pet.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and running your nails lightly against the skin of his back. “I’d take your shirt off,” you start, the alcohol in your system making you courageous, “but you’ve already beat me to it.”

Harry smirks, lifting one eyebrow teasingly. “You’re a brave drunk, too,” he notes, and then his face falls. He swears under his breath, looking at you with pained eyes. “Fuck. You’re drunk.”

“Not as much as before,” you tell him quickly. “That…uh…,” you swallow, snickering in embarrassment and gesturing between the two of you with your fingers. “That kind of sobered me up.”

“Still,” Harry insists, sighing dejectedly. “I don’t want there to be any—if you’re pissed—fuck.”

“Harry,” you say slowly. “What is it?”

“Honestly?” he tries for a laugh, but it’s hollow. “I wanna fuck you. But I—we can’t. I don’t wanna risk anything.”

It clicks in your brain, then, and you can’t help but to smile softly, endeared by his words and the seriousness of his tone. You wind your legs around his hips, pulling him a bit closer to you. Harry gnaws anxiously on his bottom lip, and you reach up, catching his chin with your thumb and index finger and guiding him down for a shallow, appreciative kiss.

“That’s sweet,” you tell him. “Being a decent human being? That’s very sexy of you.”

He grins sheepishly, and you giggle.

“And you don’t have to do anything,” you continue. “But…I’m pretty turned on, so maybe—maybe you can just kiss me? And I’ll—,” you look up at him with hooded eyes, “I’ll make myself feel good.”

“Fuck,” Harry whispers in disbelief, his lips parted and his eyes wide. He looks completely awestruck, and it makes you feel powerful. His cheeks are pink, and the flush spreads down his neck, growing a bit fainter once it reaches his chest. “I—you sure, love?”

“One hundred percent,” you murmur, tilting your head upward and catching his lips in another kiss. “Can you help me take my undies off?”

Harry groans, pressing his growing erection against the edge of the counter and smothering his face into your shoulder. “You’ll be the death of me,” he says, the pain evident in his voice. “This is how I go.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. You find his hands, guiding them beneath the skirt of your dress, and your breath hitches in your throat when he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your lace panties. Harry looks at you one more time, as though he’s really making sure that you want this, and you nod in encouragement.

“It’s fine,” you say softly. “Take them off.”

You place your hands flat against the counter behind you and use what little strength you have to lift your hips from the marble surface. With one smooth swipe, Harry’s got the material of your underwear down your thighs, and you watch with wide eyes as he lowers himself to his knees, slowly inching the fabric down the rest of the way. He peppers kisses along your legs as he does so, starting at your shins, and then your knees, and then the inside of your thighs. You spread your legs a bit further apart in hopes of tempting him, and it seems to work. He inhales deeply, a groan getting caught in his throat when the scent of your arousal floods his nostrils.

“Stop,” he chokes out, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head. “That’s not fair, love.”

“Sorry,” you whisper, biting back a smile. Harry climbs back to his feet, clutching your hot pink panties in his hand. His eyes grow dark when he registers how wet they already are, and then he’s shoving the material into the front pocket of his sweatpants, flashing you a wry grin when you yelp in surprise.

“A souvenir,” is all he says, and then he’s covering your mouth with his.

For a while, you simply kiss, enjoying being wrapped up in each other. Soon, though, the tension at the apex of your thighs is aching and can no longer be ignored. You keep one hand nestled firmly in Harry’s curls while the other one trails down his body, bypassing the swallows on his chest and the butterfly on his abdomen. You squeeze his hip once before slipping your fingers beneath the hem of your dress, gasping immediately when your middle finger makes direct contact with your clit. You rub a few firm circles against the bud, shivering at the sensation.

“Good?” Harry mutters, pulling back and peering down at where he can see the outline of your hand beneath your dress. “How is it, love? Tell me, please.”

“It’s good!” you gasp, an airy moan falling from your lips. “I wish—,” you swallow heavily, “—wish it was you, though.”

Harry lets loose a string of creative curses, placing his hand on the nape of your neck and drawing you back in for another deep kiss. You whine into his mouth, and he gulps down your sounds as though he can’t get enough. He pulls you closer, grinding his cock—which has now filled out a considerable amount—against the counter. You sigh; your arm is nearly squished in between your bodies now, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“Tomorrow!” you say in a reedy voice when the two of you break apart for air. “Promise me you’ll fuck me tomorrow.”

“Christ,” Harry growls. One of his hands leaves your face, and he balls it into a fist, slamming it down onto the counter with a frustrated groan. You don’t blame him. You can feel yourself climbing higher and higher, your legs tingling with anticipation as your movements on your clit become a bit more frantic. Harry’s got his forehead pressed against yours, his features warped with agony.

“I swear it,” he grunts fiercely, his hot breath fanning out onto your lips. “’M not letting you outta my sight, understand? You won’t be able to leave the fucking bed.”

And it’s a bit pathetic, really, because that last sentence is all it takes to push you over the edge. You let out a long moan, your toes curling and your body shaking as your orgasm washes over you. Harry presses his mouth everywhere he can reach, littering kisses against your forehead, your cheeks, across your nose, your chin. You gasp quietly, trembling in his hold as tiny aftershocks run down your spine.

“Shit,” you whisper, removing your hand from beneath your dress. Harry watches you attentively, catching your wrist and bringing it up to his face. The pads of your fingers are damp with your arousal, and he slowly pushes them past his lips, sucking off your juices and laving his tongue against the tips of the digits.

“That was—,” Harry gulps, “—so fuckin’ hot.”

You giggle shyly, unable to meet his eyes. Harry grins down at you, and when you cup your hand over the sudden yawn that escapes your mouth, he’s reminded of the fact that you’d shown up on his doorstep at an ungodly hour of the night.

He’s not really complaining, though.

“Should get some rest,” he tells you. “Gonna need all your energy for tomorrow.”

You don’t miss the insinuation lacing his words. You reach for the abandoned carton of fries, popping one in your mouth and smirking up at him. “What’s happening tomorrow?”

“Oh, pet,” Harry chuckles darkly, though the tenderness with which he strokes his fingers along your cheek drastically contradicts his tone. “You thought I wasn’t serious before? Meant what I said—you won’t be able to leave the fucking bed.”

 ~*~

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[singledadhamilton]

Storytime: The Scissors Incident Part 1

John POV

Part 1

It’s storytime!!!

Hello, you adorable and lovable fans whereas every Saturdays or Tuesdays (Williams forgot to mention that part) where one of us Hamilton kids will tell you a story from our childhood. They’re the craziest, funniest, and scariest event that ever happens in our lives for the past ten years. But pfft, this is known as from my family especially our family known as the scissors incident as it was something very unexpected and so yeah. This is a going a two-part story which yall needs how the event lead Let’s get on with this story.

This event took around when Philip, Angie, AJ, and James were about 12 ten years old and us which meant practically me, Williams, Eliza, and PJ was about 8 or 9 years old. I think us younger quadruplet were about 9 since we were only about 2 1/2 years apart. But anyway not relevant to the first part of the story...during the time between what  ....the incident occurs to our mom and dad. Well, dad has already been a single dad for almost a year at that time and we were returning to New York after leaving Nevis that we live over there for 3 years. FYI: We move to Nevis after month from the trick or treat incident. It was kind of hard for us to accept the fact to that we’re leaving Nevis since that became our true home despite being born and raised in NYC for the first years in our childhood but they never remind us such happy memories. My dad went through a harsh heartbreak because of my mother and soon my dad becomes a single dad to eight kids for the past ten years. So, after the incident, my dad immediately packed all our stuff up, sold all the items we didn’t need and got everything packed in order to live in Nevis. Turns out that my Uncle James whom my father assume perish in the hurricane many years ago. After telling him what happened between him and my mother...Tio James automatically pays for all the airports, tickets, and everything.

Next thing you know our little asses were living Nevis and we only talked Spanish both in the household but talked both English and Spanish outside the household. Since we mostly talked English during our times in New York but since my dad is a Hispanic Caribbean Immigrant. He thought it would be nice to know where our ancestry roots come from while speaking Spanish in the household.

Now, all you’re wondering well why does this have to do with the story? Why are you telling about your past? Hold it for a minute and listen closely my adorable fans. Ok.

After returning NYC from Nevis my siblings and I were trying to talk English more often nowadays since we always talked Spanish during our stay in the Caribbeans. Anyway, my dad worked a full-time job at this local 24 hours diner and we didn’t really see him that often since Papa was always trying to make ends meet. So we were trying to adapt talking more in English with each other but still felt a bit weird cause we have gotten so used to talking Spanish for the past three years. That when we as siblings decided that we speak Spanish at home and English when we go out with friends or school. And I remember this incident occur during summer vacation and we just been in New York for about two weeks now. I wanna say two weeks cause Angie is the one waking me up early for breakfast. I remember waking up in such bitchy ass mood since I ain't-a morning and still not to this day.

I glare at my sister and crankily toss my blanket aside with an attitude. Letting yall know in advance that I never acted this way with my dad. Cause Papa Hamilton doesn’t play around and he won’t hesitate to whoop my ass with the Chancla. Just thinking about it still send shivers down my spine. But yeah, my older sister loves me to death for being patient with me. Nevertheless, I was pissed that my sister woke me up early in the morning even though it was summer vacation. I didn’t want to go my Tia Peggy condo so she could babysit us while Papa work. Worst of all after washing my face, brushing my teeth, basically the typical getting ready morning such.

Worst of all is when Angie pull out the comb and oh my gosh...WWIII was about to start. My hair is naturally curly and wavy I hated when Philip and Angie would comb my hair since they’re heavy handed. I always prefer my dad combing my hair since he knows that it hurts if you pull the comb a bit too hard. But I was having none of is so I was doing the most and started fighting with my sister. I was swinging my arms and legs acting like a crazy person before Angie places the comb down and started shaking me saying...

“John!! Jackie bebe enough!!! You ain’t dying”  

Let’s not be judgy here ok. Let not. An older sibling can handle so much from their younger siblings. Especially dealing with a hardcore temper tantrum and I give credit to older siblings for actually dealing bratty younger siblings I’ve met during my middle school years.

Back to the story, I was still acting crazy and swinging around cause I didn’t want my hair to be combed. This kept on for a good five minutes until finally, my sister lost it. Angelica lost her shit and next thing I know smack. You guys, everything went frozen for me and touch my cheek where my older sister has smacked me hard across the face. It wasn’t even a slap or oh no it was a full on smack across the face. This immediately shocks me cause #1 cause she’s my older sister and wasn’t my disciplinary, #2 she has never smack me before and never lost her patient before, and #3 it really hurt me that Angie had the gut to smack me across the face. I like “Girl, I know you did not just hit me on the face” but I didn’t do anything at all. I just stood there frozen like a statue as my sister combs my hair.  

I automatically put on my hoodie and cover my face since I didn’t want to look at anybody, I especially didn’t wanna look at Angie ugly ass face. Just kidding sis, I love you and you’re beautiful so yeah. My dad didn’t question it cause he knew that when I’m upset about something or someone I’ll put my hoodie on so I don’t explode and take my anger out on anyone else. But I guess he thought I was mad at him for letting Angie comb my hair. So we ate breakfast very fast cause my dad has to go to work an hour early than usual, after arriving at Tia Peggy condo and say our goodbyes to Papa after dropping us off. Us all eight kids including Uncle Lafayette and Uncle Hercules kids: Georges, Anastasie, Marie, Henriette, William Cooke, and John W. Which adds up to 14 hyper kids in one huge condo with one woman watching us as our parents work. All 14 of us place our stuff on the coffee table in the living room before going to the playroom for the younger kids and the game room for the older kids. I put my spiderman backpack on the coffee table and took off my hoodie since I felt that I wasn’t mad at Angie anymore.

As soon I took my hoodie off Henriette took one look at us and gasp as if I grow a second head or a third eyeball. I gave her a confused look and asks

“Henri? What’s wrong?”

“Yo...Your cheek...”

“What about my cheeks?”

“One of them is red”

“Red?”

As soon Henri says the word “red” my Tia Peggy automatically come to us and also given me a worry somewhat concerns look on her face. She quickly drops down to her knees and inspected my right cheek before touching with the tip of her fingers as if I would break. I was looking her and Henri all wondering “What chu mean my cheek is all red? Like I wanna know”. Peggy hugged me tightly and looking at me all scared and freaking out on the inside which made me scared as well. Like, I didn’t know what they meant about my cheek being red and with my, Tia Peggy hugging me tightly and acting very concern just seem all weird and guilty in a way. And she started asking me all of these questions like

“John, sweetie. What happens to your face, baby? Did your siblings do it? Or did you fell and hit your face?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Tia. Can I go and use the restroom?”

My tia just let my little self-crept to the restroom which was right next to the game room so I enter and did my business. Cause I really need to pee as well but after doing my own thing as I’m watching my hands that when I notice the red mark on my cheek where Angie has smacked me early in the morning. It was still a fresh red color and you could see the finger marks of the mark. It actually looked like I came from an abusive hold house which made me very angry knowing that Angie has the audacity to let come here with a red mark on my face. Now that Henri and Tia saw it I was mortified, embarrassed, and angry. I storm myself out of the restroom and just saw Angie playing Pacman with Philip and I was just glaring so hard with tears streaming down my face. Next thing you know in my head I told myself...

“I’m calling dad. I just want my Papi right now!”

I race toward Peggy and began crying my eyes out which freaked her out overall and automatically her future mother instinct flew within her. Getting down on her knees again to level at my height before wiping my tears away.

“Jackie, sweetie. You ok? You want me to call your dad”

“Please...I want my daddy right now. I want to call my dad right now”

She quickly calls my dad as I’m still crying my eyes out and talked with him for a while. I couldn’t stop crying since I felt so mad that Angie has smacked me and angry at myself that I didn’t tell my dad sooner. As she handed me the phone I kept on crying even though I tried to stop but I couldn’t. My dad started freaking out cause he knows that I don’t cry for no apparent reason unlike someone I know ha.

“John, mijo!! Bebe que paso? Why are you crying?”

“Angie me golpeó. Ella tortazos yo difícilmente en la cara. Ahora, mi mejilla es todo roja de cuando ella me golpeó… y deseo ser con usted… papá”   (Angie hit me. She smacks me hard on the face. Now, my cheek is all red from when she hit me...and I wanna be with you...daddy)

“Ella qué?”  (She what?)

Ladies and Gentlemen when I told my father that my older sister has smacked me across the face. I knew that I have sealed my sister fate. Papa Hamilton is very crazy for a lack of better words especially with his children due to that he’s a single dad now. He’ll go craz craz if someone ever laid a single finger on us and my dad would lose his shit right then and there. Not only that, but he’s also strict with us being family and us getting along since he assumes that his brother died many years and regretted never bonding with Tio James until now.

So my father one and only rules for all of us as kids were:

“None of yall are loud to hit each other. I understand that you’re siblings and you’ll fight but if I ever see you hit one another. You will be punished if yall have problem one another you’ll come to talk with me and we’ll sort this out. Do I make myself clear?”  

If my dad ever heard that my older sister just slap me earlier in the morning. Oooh.....she better starts saying her prayers right now. Next thing I heard the tone of his voice change from concern and worry to furious and angry. And it wasn’t when he yells that scare me it was when he scolds you in such a calm voice that has a hint of anger within it frightens me to the depth of my soul. I never heard my father in that tone before perhaps maybe with my older siblings but never to us since I guess we were still a bit young. Still, that’s not the case...I remember what he told before coming over to Tia Peggy condo.

“I’ll come to pick you up mijo and I’ll talk to your sister about it”

“Ooh ok”

After my father and I finish talking once again but lasted for about a few more minutes before hanging up. I left it at that and soon went to the playroom and started stacking blocks. Williams and Eliza were wondering how did my cheek get a mark and why my cheek is all red? But I didn’t answer them and just minded my own business just waiting for Papi to come here and ready to scream at Angelica in front of everybody. As I said, Papa Hamilton is crazy with his kids, especially with his younger kids. I was just minding my own business until suddenly I heard the door slamming shut. My siblings and I instantly knew that it was our dad slamming the door which meant...he is pissed off. I saw him coming into the playroom with a blank expression on his face but I knew on the inside he was furious that Angelica has slapped me across the face.

Not even saying a word to me I automatically walk toward to him just feeling happy that he was here. My siblings were shocked and confuse seem my father always worked for a full on 12 hours. Until happen something happens to one of us so this situation was very serious. My dad got down on his knees looked my cheek that was still a bright red color. He still hasn’t spoken a single word so Papa took me to the sala and the first time throughout the whole ordeal my dad finally before snapping his fingers.

“Siéntese”

I hop my little ass on the couch as my dad went upstairs again to where the game room was at for the older kids. Not even five minutes later I heard Angie squeal lightly while Tia Peggy close both doors of the game room and the playroom. Next thing I know, all I heard was a thud and a smack!!!!

You guys my dad grabbed my sister by the hair, push her against the wall, and smack her across the face. And before yall starts getting all trigger of offense letting yall know that my dad isn’t abusive. Hell no. My dad gives the ordinary spanking that many parents do but if one of us kid hits each other then he’ll smack across the face.

1. For acting stupid and being violent

2. Cause you disobey his number 1 rule about us hitting each other.

I didn’t saw him smacking Angelica but I heard it loud enough from the sala before Dad began one his lectures. I wish he was yelling and it would be over it. But nope it was in his scary clam voice.

“How you do like it? How you do like being smack across the face?  How could slap your 9-year-old brother across the face and let him come here? Knowing you...yourself that his face was  all markup”

Angie began stammering and twisting her words over while explaining to dad...even though she just got slap by him.

“Well, he wasn’t listening..o..k...I was trying to comb his hair. He was swinging his arms and legs at me!! He was being bad though...”

“NO!! Unacceptable!! You knew perfectly well that you weren't allowed to hit any of your siblings. Instead of calling Philip or Me to clam John down. You let yourself get all impatient and smack John on the face. And be lucky this is a summer vacation and not a school day. Cause if you let him come to school looking like that...the teachers or possible the principal will believe that I’m the one that him. Not only will the police be involved but so will CPS. DO you know how hard it is for dads to get full custody of their kids despite having a clean record? Not only that but they’re also waiting for them to screw up so they can take the kids away. Do you want that to happen?”

I’m not sure what happened next but Papa Hamilton brought my sister into the living room and face her in front of me. She kept looking down at the ground with my dad who was waiting for her to speak and apologize. She looked at me in the eyes with her cheek now all red when Papa slap her.

“Look, John. I’m gotten impatient with you and I shouldn’t slap you across”  Angie spoke with a guilty look on her face but I didn’t care with a nonchalant attitude and response.

“It’s ok”

My dad and I peace out of the Condo where he took to the local diner. But I still wasn’t satisfied till I got my revenge on Angie. I’m gonna end this story here tonight and we’ll upload the second part either on Tuesday or next Saturday. Bye.