#and just. lays everything on her dad who hugs her and crys with her and tells her she did everything she could and hes proud

[marshmelonfluff]

also i have doubts that they would have tai feature heavily in a volume again but i really want him to meet up with the gang in vauco bc i want ruby to get a hug from her dad. please. just let this girl get a good cry in about everything she's been through and have her dad hug her afterwards

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Seven

warning: suggestive names??? slight boss bitch reader (dom) BUT FOR LIKE A TEENY TINY BIT 0.o NO MATURE CONTENT HERE…. unless??

masterlist

kenji wakes up during the night, groggy from the lack of a full nights rest in the many days that he's been taking care of the baby kaiju with you. and this being another one of those days.

he woke up to tapping on his face, opening his eyes to meet with mina who had a little mechanical hand tap at his chiseled cheek. "ken, the baby is awake. she is not calming down to videos or pictures of you and y/n. she needs you." mina 'whispers', trying her best to not wake you up in the process.

ken could only groan but not his head to which nina floats back downstairs. he turns to see you cuddled up next to him, one of your hands around lazily around him as the other one lays on the pillow above you.

ken slowly moves away, trying his best to not wake you up out of sympathy for the slight eye bags that your eyes adorned. he gently pulls your hand off his frame, laying it back onto the bed as he gets up. noticing your frog plush on the floor, he picks it up, dusting it off as he places it against your chest for you to hug in the time he is gone.

slowly stepping out of the room, he makes his way down the hallway. it isn't long before he's in the elevator going down to where the baby kaiju and mina now were, with the baby crying.

he walks up, instantly making her jump as she sniffled, he clapped his hands in a jingle as he transformed into ultraman. reaching into the containment unit, he pulls her out, resting her on his chest. he rubs her back, slowly tapping it to make her feel better.

it wasn't that long till she burped, a bit of saliva coming out of her mouth to which he groaned to, but chose to ignore in the time. it's been so long that he's been taking care of her with you, that he could tell when she just needed a good burp before going back to sleep.

but she didn't go to sleep. she stayed awake as she babbled from being placed back into the containment unit. she whined for him but kenji was too tired, tired from the lack of sleep and the events of the previous day. "mina, turn the videos on please." he mumbled as he walked away.

the videos worked as the baby happily watched, cheering occasionally at the clips of her dad playing baseball. kenji moved towards the couch he had in the room near them, throwing himself down.

mina floated to him, worried for his health and the events that happened to him a couple hours ago. "a simulated therapy session perhaps? i have several in my database." he looked at her aggravated, tired from everything. "really?" "maybe call someone? a friend?" mina insisted.

"yeah, wish i had one of those." he said as his slammed against the cooler cabinet under his seat. "you have friends. y/n is a friend." mina said as he fought the cabinet.

his calf slammed against it, making him wince as he fell down. he grunted but looked at mina, while grabbing the ultraman figure nearby him. "y/n isn't just a friend. she's my co-parent, like my partner in crime... well saving." he said as he ran his hand through his hair.

mina nodded, letting him be. kenji sat, his thoughts consuming him as he thought about what he could do. what could he do? he didn't really talk to anyone. he was popular but being a hero meant having to be distant with people. who could he call? then it hit him. he searched for his phone in his pocket, until he found their number.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

a phone rang in a cozy themed room. a hand dived into the piles of magazines of famous athlete ken sato. "whoooo!" a cheerful child ran through the room as their mother answered. "hey settle down. hello?" she whispered as she put the phone to her ear.

"ami, it's ken. ken sato." the receivers eyes widened through her circular glasses at the call. "um, mr. sato. hi!" she enthusiastically responded at the call. "look, if this is about my comments, i can only judge you on what i see. if you want to set the record straight-"

she was cut off. "can we just chat? like, off the record?" ken's hand ran through his hair as he spoke, staring at the figure in his hand. on the other hand, a mother dealt with her child who ran around the room. "whoo! schuwatch! take that gazoto!"

she stared at her child as she sat on the couch. "i'm really busy right now... put that down!" she cut herself off, yelling at her child. ken stared ahead, his eyes widening slightly as the child yelled "boom! scatter drones!" whole throwing toy pieces up into the air.

"it's just... you're the only person who'll talk to me." his head flashed to the idea of y/n who laid asleep in the room above, knowing he couldn't ask her for advice as the both of them were struggling to take care of the baby kaiju.

"i'll make you a deal. i'll give you five minutes. but you have to give me a follow-up. a real interview this time." ami spoke into the phone as ken cheered, happy to have someone to talk to. "done. whatever you want!" he said smiling.

"okay, we are off the record." ami said.in that moment, the baby kaiju cried, sad that the videos of her ken were finished. "please mina, keep her busy." ken hurriedly whispered to mina, while pulling the phone away from his ear.

the baby's crying was cut short, but not early enough as you had found yourself waking up to it. you turned to see that you were the only one in the bed now, giving off an empty feeling. it felt weird, to grow so close to someone, only to unexpectedly loose that warmth over night. you shook your thoughts away, knowing you were only being dramatic in that moment from being tired.

getting out of bed with a creak, you exited the room, making your way to where your baby kaiju was. her crying was no more but you still wanted to make sure she was okay, especially since you had grown a fondness for her.

the doors to the elevator opened, showing her happily watching videos of kenji playing baseball. it was an absolutely adorable sight as you walked to her. your eyes drifted off to see kenji, awake, with his phone pressed against his ear from a distance. you waved at him, giving him a soft smile as he waved back, only to then point at his phone and then put his hand in front of you like a stop sign.

the hand signs were choppy but you understood that he was on the phone and wanted you to wait a bit before he went over there. you turned back to your unofficial official baby, seeing her coo. kenji watched from afar, a soft smile on his lips, slowly brought back to reality.

"ken, you still there?" "yep! i'm still here, im here," he sighed, "so what's the secret? how do you do it? juggle everything. your job, your kid?" he said going back into a more serious mode. don't you ever just want to jump out a window?" his voice rang through emi's ears as she watched her daughter play on the wall, doing a supported handstand, only to cartwheel into the room near it.

"ken, do you have a secret love child? because that would be a story!" ami spoke hushed with her hand cupping over her mouth. her eyes widened, excited at the idea like a middle school gossiping with her friends again over a new crush.

kenji on the other line nervous chuckled, scared to be caught in a sense. "ha ha nooo. just, uh, curious." her said trying to play it off. ami smiled, a small laugh leaving her lips.

"honestly, it's not easy, ken. they're like little monsters sometimes." ken smiled at the irony of his baby being a little monster, a kaiju to be precise. ami's daughter tumbled to the floor, a small 'mama' emitting from her lips in a cry, as she rushed over to ami to hold her. she laid her head on her lap, whining from the pain.

"but they can surprise you too. they have hearts and minds of their own. they're trying to discover who they are and what they want. and the only support they have, is us. imperfect, messed up us, dealing with our own issues, trying to figure out who the heck we are."

kenji stared at his baby kaiju who cooed at the videos of him, watching as you and her both playfully swung your hands with a bat motion. a soft smile came to his lips as ami's words rang through his head.

"and you know what? that's the beauty of it. i look at my daughter sometimes and think that i'm learning as much from her as she is from me." the baby kaiju swung back and forth, making sounds of joy as kenji's eyes widened, his phone in his hand moving down in awe. "amazing."

"yep, they sure are." ami responded, unaware of the thoughts that flew through ken's head. he rose from his seat, walking to mina as he whispered. "lower the containment unit." and so it did as it slowly went into the ground, leaving the baby out to the open.

your eyes snapped towards kenji walking to you both, confused and unaware of the revelation he was experiencing. the baby kaiju cooed, confused by stared at her dad with curiosity.

"and before you know it, she won't be interested in toys anymore and your heart will break. i'm sure you have no idea what i'm talking about ken." but he did, and it made him happy. he ran to the side, pulling out a giant kids baseball bat. it was colorful blue. he handed it to the baby kaiju, making her jump as she help it in her claws.

"ken? ken? and your five minutes is up. you gonna honor your part of the deal?" ami spoke, her voice echoing from his phone against his ear, practicing bat hits as the baby mimicked. you smiled seeing them play, deciding to join their side.

"oh uh uhm yeah yeah. tomorrow night?" ken responded distracted as he watched you jump with the baby. "oh uh sure." ami responded shocked at the sudden time. "great. tonkatsu tonki. 7:00? bye." he hung the phone up instantly, playing with the baby still as he shoved his phone in his pocket.

kenji turned to you, happy at the sight in front of him. "y/n! do you see this? she's copying me!" he said childishly excited as he ran over to you, leaving mina to play with her. "i see it, she want to be just like you." you said teasing him as he gave you a toothy smile. "yeah, she wants to be like me..." his words were hushed to himself, almost like he couldn't believe that he had became a role model.

a figure of imitation. he was now someone that a baby looked up to. he was like a dad. he's a dad now. his eyes swelled up slightly, almost like he was holding back tears as he rubbed at his eyes. you chuckled at his emotional reaction. "aww don't cry, i thought she was supposed to be the baby, hmm~"

his cheeks flushed red as he pouted at your teasing. "well maybe i want to be your baby..." he whispered softly, but yet you still heard him. almost like a chain reaction, you blushed making him blush more. "oh-" you said stunned, shocked even. "i don't mind-" you said with a sort of newfound confidence, only it didn't last long.

almost like a switch flicked in him, his head snapped to you in shock. his shy expression changed into a smirk as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. "oh really, huh? you wanna call me baby, don't you?" he said, his voice was husk as he teased you.

he boldly strutted to you, getting rid of the distance that separated the both of you as he now stood behind you, his body towering over you as his leaned down to your head. "you wanna call me baby, y/n? i think i'd prefer if you'd call me daddy." he voice was smooth, sweet and seductive all at once.

your skin heated from the emotions you felt, almost lime you could pass out in that second. "so? hm?" kenji was like whiplash, so sweet and gentle one second, than childish and silly, to a whole 180 as he switched to seductive and bold out of nowhere.

it was then that his words flashed through your head. "call you daddy huh? seems like someone else wants it more, don't you think?" you said as you turned around and pressed a finger against his chest, hooking it into his shirt roughly. he could only gulp, turning back into the shy and sweet kenji you were used to.

"oh! would you uh look at that- she's using the bat!" kenji nervously ran from you with his face red, hiding his face with his blue cap. you laughed at his reaction, smiling and trailing behind him as he faced mina.

"uhm mina, load up a park. maybe start her out with one of the older simulations." he said, acting as though nothing happened earlier. mina listened to him as you stood next to them both, watching g as the once dark, black-like room turned into a children's baseball park. it felt homey and cute, you couldn't help but relish in the sweet feeling.

you heard cheering to the side, noticing a holograph of a women show up. you recognized her, it was kenji's mom. you remembered those days where professor sato would ramble to you all the sweet little stories they went through as he searched for her after suddenly disappearing.

you couldn't help but frown at the idea but shook it off hering kenji praise mina. "nice touch mina." he said softly, running to the base in the middle, getting ready to play a game of baseball with the sweet baby kaiju you both grew to love.

note: a/n! i'm sorry if the chapter seems rushed, i just wanted to get one out to you all so you all won't have to wait that long :( ALSO FBNABDSJ THE WHOLE DADDY AND THEN SLIGHT DOMINANT READER - that's on me y'all, it's the voices in my head 👹 so i guess it's a teeny bit 'mature' but well, who doesn't mind some fan service >:3 also i won't be posting till after june 29 since i will be busy that whole day so i hope u all understand <3 I PROMISE U ALL THE WAIT WILL BE WORTH IT!!! trust me >:3

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[star1ight0]

Shouta Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada x PLATONIC KID!!

I crave comfort so here

Tw : Ed /sh

Not many people were aware of your relationship with your homeroom teacher and English teacher known as Mr. Aizawa and his loud husband Mic but they were your dad's. In the beginning of the year they both made it clear no special treatment would be given and you appreciated it a lot.

This also came with its ups and downs trying to fight the urge to hug you dad in front of class after villain attacks ect, as much as they'd both fight it they also struggled to accessively check on you when you all moved to dorms.

Having grown up always close to him after they adopted you from a abusive home. had its drags on you all You weren't entirely sure when this overwhelming feeling of despair started but it felt so shitty, you had no reason to feel this way you had a good life. Loving dads, a nice school and a few friends you hold dear to you. It was so long ago why was this still bothering you.

You remembered a conversation you had with your dad, Mic recalling how Aizawa was struggling with mental health and how it wasn't an effect of things around him but rather his brain chemistry. You looked at your phone debating on calling your family group chat to ask them for help but managed to talk yourself out of it resorting to crying on your closet floor.

After a few minutes of crying you managed to pull yourself together grabbing some clothes and deciding this was all in your head and you had no reason to feel so shitty. Heading out your room you feel a tap on your shoulder "it's past curfew kid" you turn around to see you father Hizashi looking around you you look back at him eyes still puffy "Sorry dad, just needed a shower" you say attempting to walk away when you feel a hand in you wrist "were you crying little listener?" You flinch at the childhood nickname your dad had given you "No, sorry just tired" you say pulling away "either your high or you were crying which one is it kid" He says pointing to your eyes "its nothing dad please just let me shower"

You pull away walking away leaving your dad in the hall alone. You took a long shower, trying to scrub off the memories of your past home. You get out the shower and go back to your dorm laying down on the floor ignoring the fact your bed was no more than 3 feet away. You look at your phone to see Aizawa texted you

You okay kiddo?

Yeah sorry for worrying y'all just a bad day

Are you sure

Yeah

If you say so, me and Hizashi are here if you need us. Now go to bed it's late

The conversation was short and to the point but you still felt the need to want to call him and tell him these awful feelings you were having.

A few days passed when you got an email from an all too familiar name, it was your biological mom. The very same woman who had given you physical and mental problems along with nonstop nightmares for 2 years. You had changed everything phone number, social media accounts anything that she could you to find you. Yet her name is in your inbox with a paragraph calling you names and threatening you. Everything felt so out of control like nothing you did to get away from her was enough. But she knew now, she knew what school you went to. 1-A had been on TV after all, you should have known it was only a matter of time. You looked at your phone blankly feeling your body shake and tears fall from your face. You reached for your pocket knife making a cut on your thigh it felt good like you finally had control over how you felt like you had control over something when everything around you was so chaotic. This was bad you knew that but it felt too good to want to care.

Overtime the threatening emails from your mother piled up only feeding the fear she'd find you and harm you, in turn causing more scars to be formed on your legs. You dads had quickly talked notice to you change in dimanar and talked it over amongst themselves and tried to reach out to you but it was all brushed off as a bad week or a bad day.

This began to escalate more than your lack of interest in food came about you seemed so tired too tired to even eat. This is where they drew the line. No kid of theirs would be passing out in training. They just couldn't figure out how to talk to you about this without you shutting down and shutting them out.

Monday morning training came about and you felt exhausted like your whole body was about to give out. This was only further proven when you passed out before training with Todoroki without him even activating either of his quirks. Both Hizashi and Aizawa rushed to your side as another student ran to get recovery girl. You woke up in the nurses office with both your dad's next to you looking worried out their minds.

"Recovery girl said you'd be fine.. as long as you ate and drank probably." There was a silence filled with worry and a bit of anger

"I'm sorry dad-" you were cut off by Hizashi hugging you, "please don't scare me like that kid" he said holding you as if you were gonna disappear. "Talk to us if you need to kiddo. You know we'll listen. "

You hugged him back going back to your dorm early as you were excused from all classes for the day, sitting on your floor you checked your phone to see another email this time from your biological father. Your mom texting you was one thing you knew in some way she didn't have the gut to actually hurt you but your dad, he'd hunt you down and kill you, metaphorically and literally. You felt a wave of fear washing over you and you sobbed standing up hands on your head pacing around your room crying and shaking. You reach for your knife once more sliding down the wall making a cut in an almost fully healed scar feeling that feeling of control comes back. You made a few more before stopping, taking a deep breath grabbing your first aid kit sitting in the same spot on the floor. Yeah, you felt stupid but not stupid enough to not clean this kind of thing. As you were cleaning up you heard a knock at your door

"Kid? It's us can we talk?"

Aizawa says still waiting at the door "Y-yeah give me a minute please!!" You shout rushing to put the first aid kit away and some sweatpants and throw your knife under the bed you wipe your face, and open the door

"Kid are you okay you look a little.. worse than earlier "

"yeah I'm fine just not in a great mood," you said looking at your phone placed in the far end of the bed. They both came Into your room sat on your bed and attempted to talk to you about what had been bothering you. The conversation went in circles before you placed your head in Aizawa's lap. Your dad Hizashi, was standing at the foot of your bed about to leave when he was stopped by a blood stain on the floor.

"Shouta, I think we should stay till she wakes up"

"hm. I mean I'm not against it but why ?"

He points at the blood spot on the floor and Shoutas eyes widen.

"they are knocked out right now so can you look for whatever is being used ?"

He nods looking around your room eyes landing on a pocked knife shining under your bed.

"here, I'll put it in our room," he says showing Shouta before closing it and placing it in his pocket, as he was above to leave he stopped by the light of your phone along with a name he recognized followed by a scowl.

"Shouta I'm gonna check their phone for something"

He gives Hizashi a confused look but unable to move because of your sleeping form he allows him to do so, you trusted them enough to let them know your passwords but they had never not trusted you enough to go through your phone. He opens the email, reading it and seeing ll the others. He made a face of pure disgust and walked toward Shouta showing him the inbox along with one of the emails it had.

Both had decided to stay in your room till morning, planning to talk to you about this night of unfortunate events. But this was cut short by the feeling of you hyperventilating in Shoutas lap. Hizashi gently shakes him awake and they both attempt to comfort you ultimately failing as you wake you shaking tears forming in your eyes. An all too familiar scene for your dad's to witness.

"it's okay kid, your okay" Hizashi whispered patting your head as Aizawa rubbed your shoulder.

"sorry i-"

"No apologies. We know everything so there's no need to hide anything from us anymore"

Shouta says looking up at his husband

"you could have really hurt yourself kid"

"i know I just - "You were cut off by a knot in your throat as you scrambled to find the words "Everything feels so out of control and I can control this you know?" Shouta nodded in agreement.

"Why did you come to us kiddo?

"i- I didn't want you to worry you. You guys had enough going on.."

You said your voice is still shaking between sobs.

"you'd never be a bother to us. It's our job as you parents to check on you and worry for you"

You all had a long talk about possible coping strategies and ways to communicate if you wanted to talk about something without feeling bothersome. A few relapses were bound to happen and they both knew this but did everything they could to ensure it didn't. Even if it meant letting the whole class know you were their kid so you could go in the teacher's wing of the dorms. You began slowly getting better with setbacks here and there, but by setting up a new email and talking more about what your depression episodes felt like, both your dads were able to help you through it

Yes it's messy I wrote 75% of this in one go and the other half after my shower. And it's like 12:58am

Requests are open but slow

Please reach out if you need to to!!

[kittenlittle24]

Appendicitis

GIF not mine, comment, like and reblog!

Masterlist

Rushing to the hospital after your son woke up from a nap crying from a stomach ache and fever, you went to Princeton-Plainsboro knowing only there are doctors you can trust.

Your son has been complaining about stomach aches all morning, your husband already left for work, thinking it was just a bug you let him stay home and rest. However when he woke up screaming and crying and with a fever you made the decision to go in.

A young male doctor greeted you. One you never met before nor heard of.

He asked him to lay back but you stopped him before he could examine him.

“I want you to page Dr Gregory House.”

Sighing and rubbing his head, “Miss, Dr. House is very busy and he doesn’t treat kids with belly aches.”

Crossing your arms, “He will treat this kid. Page him or I will march straight to Dr. Cuddy.”

Still crying, your son tugged on your shirt, his other arm wrapped around his stomach, “I want my daddy.”

You hugged him and stroked his hair, while the doctor left the examination room.

You tried everything in your power to calm him down, though nothing helped.

Around 20 minutes later the door opened and the same young doctor entered the room. Standing from your seat, “I told you I want Doc-“

“Yeah, yeah, doctor House is here,” a voice interrupted from the doorway.

He limped inside, once he saw who it was that demanded his presence, a serious look set on his features. Gently he maneuvered your son to a lying position to examine his stomach.

He looked up at him, “Daddy, my tummy really hurts.”

The young doctor froze in shock, mouth gaping open.

“I want complete blood and urine tests. Also, get an X-ray and ultrasound of the abdomen and chest,” he ordered the doctor before he turned to you, “Seems like Appendicitis, a surgeon will operate to take out the infected appendix. This is called an appendectomy. Usually, surgeons make 3 small cuts in the belly and use a small device called a laparoscope to remove the appendix. He’ll probably get to go home today.”

Leaning down he kissed the top of the boy’s head and moved to hug you, he whispered words of comfort and encouragement, saying you did good by bringing him. He stayed close to you the whole time, only leaving to monitor the tests are doing properly and keep your son calm.

A brunette doctor sat next to you and handed you a mug of coffee. Thanking her you took a big sip and put your hands around the warm mug.

“So you’re house’s wife?”

Shrugging, “We never married but I think it’s as close as it gets.”

“And he’s his son?”

You both looked up upon hearing a hard fake cough interrupting her interrogation.

“If you’re done grilling her Dr. Cameron you could make yourself useful anywhere else.” He told her and took her seat after she left the waiting room.

Putting his arm around you, he pulled you to lean on his chest. About a torturous hour later a surgeon came out to say the surgery went well and your son is being moved to a recovery room.

Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you let yourself collapse into House’s arms, finally feeling the stress leave your body. He kissed your temple and rubbed your arm, “He’s fine, probably going to demand unreasonable amounts of ice cream for being brave.”

Laughing you turned to kiss him, “He can have it. Thank you,”

Scrunching his eyebrows, “Are you thanking me for doing my job or being his dad?”

You shook your head, “For putting up with me.”

[wardenparker]

The Stars Re-Align, part 3

Frankie Morales x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 13.1k Warnings: Reader is given an age and a grown daughter. Cursing, food/alcohol, mentions of military service (obviously), complicated relationships, family drama, mentions of past abusive relationship, mentions of past drug use, miscommunication, revelations, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex. Summary: Helping Frankie and Luna get set up for the next steps of their life brings them much closer to you and Rachel. And to the possibility of family. Notes: Thank you so much to everyone who left such lovely comments and tags on this story as we went along! We really love a good One That Got Away story and we're so happy that you all do, too. Please enjoy the final installment! 🧡 As always, the gif is for the vibes, *not* a physical representation of the reader.

Half an hour after the call, when Benny knocks on the door of Fish's apartment, it's Pope who answers the door. "You brought a second army," he observes. There's just a touch of sadness in his smile when his eyes fall on you, but only a touch. In some ways, it just proves he made the right decision that you've dropped everything to come here.

“I was having dinner with them.” Benny shuffles into the apartment and looks around. “What’s going on, man?”

"Everybody come in." If he's surprised to see you, Will doesn't show it.

There's a tall woman at his side doing some very studious typing on her phone and you dimly recall Rachel saying Ben's brother has a long-term girlfriend. What catches your attention and holds it is the figure of Frankie Morales cradling a baby in his arms, and the way it wraps around your heart and twists is terrible. It's jealousy, but you have no right to that particular emotion. Not now or ever.

Settled by the bottle, Luna isn’t crying anymore, but Frankie continues to hold her close. Probably using her as a bit of a crutch himself, he can’t bring himself to put her down, even if she’s fallen back asleep.

The apartment is a mess. Things have been thrown around in a deliberate temper tantrum sort of way and it's clear that some frantic behavior has followed that tantrum, causing a bit more of a mess in the process. "Frankie..." For now you swallow down whatever conflicting emotions you have and walk over to him while the others get settled. "Ben said it was an emergency," you explain, as if you're trying to dignify why you came with Ben and Rachel even though you know that's not strictly necessary. "Are you—is she—okay?"

“You— she’s—” he’s practically speechless that you are here, his gaze darting around the destroyed apartment and he’s embarrassed that you are seeing this. “She’s okay…physically.” He murmurs, bouncing her in his arms slightly and feeling a little off kilter. “Uh— Marie, she, uh, she found Rachel’s phone number in my jacket.” He clears his throat. “She left.”

“She left…like…permanently?” You swallow hard around the implications of that, trying to reconcile what Rachel has told you of this woman with the kind of person that would abandon a child. It’s not the same as what happened with you and Frankie. This, in your opinion, is far worse.

“I think so.” While Frankie had just talked about extricating himself from a relationship with Marie, he had never once considered a situation where she would abandon Luna. He looks down at his daughter, and then his eyes find Rachel’s guiltily. As if he were just as equally horrible.

“What happened?” No sooner does Rachel meet his eyes than she’s crossing the apartment, laying one gentle hand on Luna’s back and very nearly reaching to hug him. She doesn’t know if he would even want that, but the way she almost just added Dad to the end of her sentence makes her own heart break.

He doesn’t want to tell her. Finding it too repulsive to even consider, but he owes her the most truth he can give. “She— she thinks that it was something different.” He tells her quietly. “Like I would cheat, or sleep with Ben’s girlfriend.” He doesn’t even bring up how disgusting it is since she is his daughter. “I tried to tell her that you— that we are—” he curses himself and snorts. “I told her you are my daughter and she didn’t believe me.”

Rachel blows out a long breath and centers herself, hands on her hips just like her father when he’s working something out. “Can I be honest?” Rachel asks, standing between her two parents and shaking her head.

“Always.” It’s not like he expects anything else, but he wants her to be able to share her thoughts and feelings.

“Marie is a cunt, Dad.” Rachel doesn’t beat around the bush, but reaches again to rub Luna’s back. “I’m glad she’s gone, if she really is. Because she’s awful and you two deserve so much better.”

The snickers of the guys showcase their complete agreement with her view and Frankie frowns as he looks down at his sleeping daughter again. “I just— I didn’t expect her to call our daughter a crotch goblin.” He admits quietly. “She was happy she was pregnant. Even if I wasn’t thrilled.” It’s a guilty thought, but he hadn’t been overly joyful at the prospect of having a kid.

“Terrible people say terrible things,” Rachel reasons. She leans forward more this time, waving one friendly finger in her baby sister’s face to make her giggle then places a kiss on Luna’s forehead. “Good riddance. And if she ever says another word against this little angel, I’ll punt her across the Gulf.”

“I— you’re right.” He sighs softly, his heart clenching at the sight of his previously unknown daughter being so sweet to Luna. “I knew she was resentful that I left on a…business trip when Luna was a few weeks old, but I never thought she would take it out on her.”

“Having a child doesn’t automatically make you a good parent,” you reason, with your hands sheepishly stuffed in your pockets. “Just like you can be an amazing parent without ever having children of your own. It’s not clean-cut like that. And it sounds like…like she was not going to be in this for the long run. One way or another.”

His eyes meet yours, sad because it feels like you might be making a pointed statement about him. He just nods and sighs again when Luna kicks, looking down at her and rubbing her stomach as he holds her. “Yeah.”

“I just mean…” He looks so fucking sad that your heart breaks all over again, when you meant to be supporting him. “There are plenty of people in your circle who are going to be ready to help you, Frankie. Just because the woman who gave birth to this little girl turned out to be less-than-ideal doesn’t mean she’ll be alone. We’re all here to help.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” He reminds you quietly. “Call it poetic justice.” He doesn’t want you to feel like you have to do anything. Not after what he’s done.

“Don’t be silly.” What happened between the two of you is beside the point, as far as you’re concerned. At least it isn’t relevant right now, so you brush it aside. “It takes a village, right? Well, here we are.”

The differences between you and Marie could not be more evident than at this moment. He swallows harshly and he looks back up at you. “Thanks.”

“Okay.” Santiago’s voice cuts through the tension in the room, and most of the group takes that as a signal to congregate, all moving toward the living room sofa en masse. “So we have some things to figure out, but the ball is rolling. Jess is getting in contact with a lawyer for custody papers, the clean up here will take maybe an hour at most, and from there it’s making sure Fish and Luna are taken care of.”

“I— thanks again.” Frankie mutters, looking incredibly embarrassed by all of this. “I appreciate this and Luna does as well.”

“If it was one of us, you’d be right there in the trenches,” Benny reminds him. He sits down on the edge of the couch and puts an arm around Rachel when she comes to sit beside him, grateful for nothing but kindness from both her and you.

“I have some work I can do remotely for a week or two,” you offer, knowing that handling a baby alone can be difficult even under the best conditions. “And…I can cook.” A thing which was never Frankie’s forte as a teenager.

“I guess that’s— I don’t want to come between you and your life.” His eyes slide over to Santiago, burying his own jealousy because it’s not fair.

“I have the time and the skills.” It isn’t meant to be a rude reminder, but just an honest one. You’re the only person here who has raised a baby thus far. “I’ll take a personal day tomorrow and then work from home for a little while. The office won’t mind, since I’m still in the preliminary stages of my next project.”

“If you’re sure…” Frankie can take care of his daughter. That’s never been a problem. He’s not one that complains about getting up during the night or changing dirty diapers. But he is trying to appeal the loss of his license and needs to be able to attend hearings. It was good that he had preemptively went to rehab and could provide clean tests. Hopefully it would be enough.

“I have a work laptop, a deep knowledge of Disney and children’s music, and the ability to cook enough to leave you leftovers.” For the first time, your hand moves to his arm and you give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sure, Frankie.”

"It won't be for long." He promises. "As soon as I can get my license back, I can afford to get a daycare or a sitter service for Luna." He shrugs slightly. "I can fly again." He's not sure what Santiago has told you, but there's no need to hide anything from you.

“Mom has you covered for a little bit, and Benny and I can help,” Rachel assures him. The deep need to connect to her little sister and be there for her father is strong and already growing.

“And Jess and I will fill in the blanks,” Will promises. Luna will never be without a second set of eyes, Fish. You’ll be able to make your appointments and do everything you need to do.”

Frankie blows out a sigh and he looks around. "Should I move?" He asks quietly. "In case she comes back? Or stay here and if she does come back, we address it then?"

“Move in with us.” Rachel blurts out, unapologetic in her honesty and immediately stubborn on the point as soon as the thought occurs to her. “We have the space, and Marie wouldn’t know how to find you.”

Frankie's eyes widen at the offer and his heart leaps at the idea but his gaze darts over to you. "Rachel, sweetheart...I couldn't possibly do that." He shakes his head when your own shocked face mirrors his. You don't want that and he won't make your life harder.

“Guys, will you give us a minute?” This is not a conversation that you want spectators for, and it only takes a second of hesitation for Will and Jess to stand.

“Let’s start picking up.” Will suggests, casting meaningful looks at Santiago and Benny. This isn’t their conversation. Especially not Pope’s anymore.

Frankie shuffles slightly, biting his lip and wishing that he didn't have to hear the scolding that Rachel was in for. He knows that she only has good intentions, but it's not the same as offering up a place to live for him and a child he fathered by another woman.

“Do you feel unsafe here?” You ask Frankie, wanting an honest answer rather than the one he feels he ought to give. Men have a hard time speaking up in abusive situations for a hell of a lot of reasons and you’re not about to add to his stress. “Like if Marie came back, she might hurt you or the baby?”

"She wouldn't hurt me." Frankie assures you. "But...I don't— I might hurt her." He admits softly. "If she tries to hurt Luna. I'll talk to the property management. Have the locks changed."

“Is there any possibility she would actually try to hurt Luna?” This sweet little baby did nothing wrong, and the part of you that missed out on getting to see Frankie hold your little girl is both savoring and jealous of this moment of his protection.

"If she's high?" Frankie wouldn't want to believe it, but he can't be sure. "I don't know. She's angry at me and she knows that I would die for Luna."

“If she’s—” That is going to have to be a conversation for another time, but you nod your head once and look at Rachel. Your steadfast, loyal-to-a-fault daughter is looking at you so expectantly that you can’t even hold her gaze, and end up looking back at Frankie. “We have a guest room and a safe neighborhood. Our HOA is a pain in the ass but if they know a vehicle isn’t supposed to be in the neighborhood they will have a tow truck in the street before she even gets out of her car.”

"Gatita..." he closes his eyes and relaxes slightly when he feels Rachel take the baby from him. Opening his eyes again, he knows that it's the right choice. "We won't be there long." He promises after a moment.

"You'll be there for as long as you need to be." Will it be awkward, maneuvering around each other? Sure. But this isn't about your comfort level. This is about his safety and the safety of his baby.

******

Your home is surprisingly easy to settle into, but Frankie tries to give you and Rachel space. Finding some of the run ins a little awkward in that ‘navigating new roommates’ waters. Right now though, it’s three in the morning and Luna has woken up hungry. Leaving a sleepy-eyed Dad to shuffle into the kitchen in a pair of sleep pants and a little girl bouncing against his bare shoulder as he mixes up a bottle.

There’s a light on in the kitchen when you come down the stairs, bleary-eyed and dealing with a stupid amount of heartburn from that second helping of chili you shouldn’t have had at dinner. You can hear him before you see him — the gentle shushing of a parent soothing an infant — and you knock gently on the archway to the kitchen before stepping inside. “Sorry to interrupt,” you murmur quietly, not wanting to scare Luna.

“Hey, sorry.” Frankie winces slightly, sure that he’s woken you up. “Baby girl needed a bottle. We’ll be settled down and quiet soon.”

“Don’t worry about it.” When you move toward the fridge too, you almost laugh at the irony. “I came down for milk, too. Heartburn is a bitch.”

He winces sympathetically and nods. “Remember when we were young? Heartburn was something our parents made up.” He snorts, aware that he’s had to change his diet as he’s gotten older.

“I’d give anything to be able to eat the way we did back then.” The carton of milk comes out onto the counter and so does a glass, but you’re self-conscious of giving Frankie enough space so you stay tucked in the corner. “Can I ask…” You shift slightly in place. “How are you adjusting?”

“Day to day, at night, it’s not a lot of difference.” Frankie admits. You have helped him tremendously during the day, but he insists on taking care of Luna himself when he gets back. “I always took care of the baby when I got home.” He tells you. “She needed a break and I didn’t mind.”

“Is there anything you need picked up? Changed?” It’s not your place to remark on his ex-girlfriend’s parenting, or seeming lack thereof, but you have noticed that the only people who contact him are his lawyer and his friends. The guys have been quite active actually, either helping him move the last of his things from the apartment into storage, helping with Luna, or helping him get things organized for his hearings.

“I don’t think so.” He is so grateful to you for everything. “I am planning on cutting the grass tomorrow.” He tells you. “So don’t worry about that.”

“I’m assuming it won’t make a difference if I tell you that you don’t need to do chores?” The Frankie of your past was a stubborn guy, and a nostalgic smile curls your lips.

“No.” Frankie frowns and looks over at you with dark eyes. “You are letting me stay, watching my child and you won’t take my money.” He huffs, slightly offended at the handout. “I can help around here.”

“Just don’t overextend yourself. Your appointments are more important than the lawn.” It’s nice that he wants to help, and you’re not going to stop him, but you don’t want Frankie to get himself behind because he gets obsessed with helping.

“I know.” Frankie nods. “I don’t have an appointment tomorrow. And the lawyers said that it looks promising.” He tells you.

“I’m glad to hear that.” Your own glass of milk is cold and soothing, and you pour a second for good measure. “I was planning on working from home again tomorrow. I hope that won’t bother you too much.”

“Gatita, this is your house.” Frankie reminds you. “You are free to do whatever you want.” He snorts. “If you wanted to walk around naked, I would just have to try to not stare.” He’s tired and he’s been dreaming about you after spending so much time with you. He didn’t mean to say that, but it popped out.

The burning in your cheeks is immediate, that combination of embarrassment and rekindled desire making you quickly look away so he won’t see how much you love hearing him call you Gatita again, or how much you actually want him to mean it when he says things like that to you. It had been deep in your head that the love you still have for Frankie would bubble to the surface with him in your house, but you didn’t know quite how bad it was going to be. “Well…I would say you’ve always been a gentleman, but we were teenagers together. The parts of us that are good at restraint now didn’t really exist back then.”

“No need to be a gentleman when I had you.” Frankie murmurs softly, twisting the cap back on the bottle and shaking it up as Luna grunts against his shoulder. She’s not crying right now, but she will be if she doesn’t get her bottle. “Only had to restrain myself around our parents.”

“Something neither of us was terribly good at,” you admit with a snort. “At least they never actually caught us having sex. That would have been mortifying.”

“Dad did.” Frankie admits, sending you a sheepish grin. “Senior year. He opened the door slightly and immediately closed it. I saw him in the mirror.”

“Oh my god.” You almost drop your glass, fumbling to get it on the counter with little enough noise to not agitate the baby and stifle your laughter at the same time. “Seriously? I am so glad you never told me that.”

He laughs quietly and nods. “We had sworn to never speak of it. And I hadn’t, until now.”

“I never would have been able to look him in the eye again.” Unfortunately, Frankie’s father had passed years ago — your own parents had sent you the obituary. “I sent flowers to the funeral home when he passed,” you admit quietly. “No card or anything, but…it was too little too late. I know that.”

Frankie closes his eyes and sighs softly. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly. “He loved you and he told me that I was the biggest goddamn fool for breaking up with you.”

“We were kids.” It’s not a good reason but it’s still a reason, and you’re not willing to rehash your breakup at 3am over milk with his infant.

“Yeah.” He can see that you are building walls against the conversation. He turns Luna over and pops the bottle into her mouth. “Well…I better let you get back to bed.” He murmurs. “Goodnight.”

“I—” The feeling of being dismissed from your own kitchen is uncomfortable at best, and you frown before setting your glass in the dishwasher and simply stepping away. “Sorry to have disturbed you. Goodnight.”

Frankie frowns as he watches you leave and he hates how it seems like you’ve taken three steps back. Sighing softly, he looks down at Luna staring up at him. “What?” He asks her softly. “I didn’t do anything.”

******

By the next morning, you’ve resolved to apologize. Being short with him was unnecessary and doesn’t exactly make things easier for anyone. Not to mention, Frankie is having a hard enough time as it is without you getting mopey that he hasn’t just sat down beside you on the couch and snuggled you into his side like you want him to.

Getting up early, you head back downstairs and start making up a big pan of French toast and another whole tray of bacon. Sure there’s only three of you, but baking breakfast will give you time to make some fresh baby food for Luna, something you had loved doing for Rachel as well.

Frankie wakes up to the sounds of stirring in the kitchen. Groaning quietly at the aches and pains of his older self. Getting older sucks and it’s compounded by the abuse he put his body through when he was in the Army. Glancing at the clock, he sighs and sits up, grabbing his shirt. He will need to get started on the lawn before Luna wakes up.

The coffee pot has just finished bubbling when he gets downstairs, the rich, black brew piping hot and mixing with the other smells in the kitchen to be nothing short of enticing. Coffee, cinnamon, vanilla, bacon, and apples all mix together in the early morning like a welcoming curtain of comfort.

“Smells good.” Frankie shoves his hat on his head. “Baby’s still asleep. Thought I would get started on the grass.”

"Okay." Even though you nod, you gesture slightly at the baby monitor in his hand. "Do you want to leave that with me? I can get her changed and fed while breakfast cooks. She's got fresh apple and sweet potato puree for this morning."

“You’re too good to us—her.” Frankie huffs, shooting you a small smile. “After I get done, I’ll take her right back. I promise.”

"Frankie..." Your palms sweat and you hate yourself for being so affected by him still, but here you are. So deeply affected that you feel like you're fifteen all over again. "I wanted to apologize. For last night."

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Frankie shakes his head. “I was…out of line.”

"I shouldn't have been dismissive, or snapped at you. It's not out of line to want to talk about our past." Exhaling softly, you lean back against the counter and bite your bottom lip as you debate how much is really wise to say. "It's just bringing up a lot of old emotions and I wasn't prepared to work through them thoroughly at three in the morning."

“Yeah,” Frankie shuffles slightly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He hums quietly. “I know that it’s hard. I should have just kept quiet.”

"No." You shake your head and take a step back toward him instead of shrinking away again. "No, that's...keeping quiet and hiding things from each other is how I got us into this mess. I don't want to perpetuate that anymore."

Frankie sighs. “No, me being a fucking asshole is what got us into the mess of you raising a kid by yourself.” He tells you.

"I should have just told you." Twenty-four years of hindsight is twenty-twenty. "If I hadn't been so scared, it would have worked out eventually."

“And I should have come back.” Frankie snorts. “I should have found you. Begged you to take me back.” He puts his hands on his hips. “There’s a million things I shouldn’t have done, or should have.”

"I should have figured out how to write to you at boot camp. Or found your parents after they moved. Anything." Your arms cross over your chest in some kind of unconscious half-mirroring of him, but you end up swallowing a sigh. "Rachel does that, you know. Her hands on her hips, like you do. There's so much of you in her and I'm so sorry that you missed some of it."

Those words make him close his eyes. Absorbing them and trying not to let them hurt as bad as they do. “I just don’t want to miss any more.”

"I don't want you to, either." It's a small admission. Also too little, too late. But at least it's honest. "And neither does she."

“I know you don’t – this isn’t ideal.” Frankie admits. “You don’t really want me here. And I just don’t want to overstep.”

"Why do you think I don't want you here?" Can you guess at plenty of reasons? Of course. But you're curious to know why he assumes you would have invited him into your home if you didn't want him here at all.

“Who wants their ex in their house?” Frankie snorts. “I’ve cost you your relationship, made you a babysitter and make you uncomfortable by bringing up a past I can’t forget.” He practically whispers the last part, almost ashamed of it.

Something about the whole scenario just makes you crack in your chest and you almost cave in on yourself, letting the words out before you can stop yourself. Six simple words, but with so much meaning. "I don't care. I miss you."

Frankie bites his lip, curling his hands into his hips to keep from reaching for you. “You miss who I was.” He reminds you. “I’ve become a very different one.”

"So have I." You weren't expecting rejection to sting as much as it does, even though you don't even know that you actually offered enough for him to reject. It still makes you want to cry, though, in a very vulnerable and surprised sort of way. "That doesn't mean we aren't still who we are at the core."

“I’ve…done things.” Frankie admits. “Bad things. Things that would make you curl away from me in disgust.”

"Nobody's pure." But you shuffle a little where you're standing and look up again, actually looking him in the eyes. "Santiago told me about South America. Everything. So I'm not as much of a wilting flower as you might think."

“Never said you were.” He knows you are strong, capable. You raised Rachel by yourself and all the struggles that it entailed.

"I'm not trying to force anything." Though if it happened, you would absolutely not be opposed to it. You've realized that in the three days since Frankie and Luna moved into your house. "I'm just saying, if I didn't want you here, or I didn't want to know who you are now...then you wouldn't be here at all. I just wouldn't have offered, regardless of anything Rachel said."

“Maybe you shouldn’t have offered.” Frankie snorts. “Fuck knows you wouldn’t have if you know what I think about around you.” He’s just determined to beat himself up, still depressed and trying to self-sabotage without the use of coke.

That just makes you scoff, shoving your hands in your pockets weakly because what you really want to do is cross the kitchen tiles and just throw your arms around him like you always used to. "I fully expect you to hate me. I'm not going to make you leave my house just because you rightfully dislike your ex for keeping your daughter from you."

He stares at you for a moment before he laughs. “You think I hate you?” He demands roughly. “Hate doesn’t have me dreaming about seeing if I could beat the goddamn record I set when we were seventeen.” He hisses. “Hate doesn’t have me waking up in the middle of the night with my hand around my cock because you still smell the same and those sheets smell like you. Hate isn’t something I want to do to you, gatita.”

For about three full seconds, all you can do is stand there and stare at him. It's like your mind had shut down trying to comprehend what he is saying to you and is only slowly booting back up like an ancient computer. A small squeak escapes you and all the air goes out of your chest just before water pricks at your eyes, and all of a sudden you're moving straight across the kitchen to kiss him before you can even process what you're doing.

Frankie had fully expected a hand across his cheek, so when you launch yourself at him, he’s shocked. Groaning against your lips for a split second before he’s wrapping his arms around you, one hand cradling your head to keep you close. To keep you kissing him.

He's thicker than he was as a gangly teenager. Age has given him muscles and then softened them again, making him pliant under your touch just as much as you are under his. The powerful magnet of attraction between you leaves no room for questioning in the moment. You're just two people clinging desperately to each other and to hope, and the first slide of your tongue against his when your lips part to deepen the kiss is like coming home. A very specific, very teenage home – but this is still where your heart lives.

Frankie groans, finding it to be his turn to move. Turning and pressing you against the counter as he drowns in this kiss. It feels so right, despite the mistakes that he has made, the sins he has committed, he tastes nothing but the overwhelming sense of rightness in your lips.

He had dipped down to find the perfect angle to capture your soft moan when it crossed your lips, but now Frankie straightens again. Breaking your head so it won’t hit the cabinets, his other hand pulls you close at the waist — expanded, soft from carrying and birthing a baby and simply being alive for more than forty years — as your hands wander his body to recommit every plane of him to memory. There’s a beautiful rosy nostalgia over the kiss even with the nearly feral need each of you feels, and something drastic might have happened if not for the soft cry of surprise that emanates from the half-light of the living room.

Pulling back in surprise, Frankie’s eyes widen when he sees Rachel standing there. “Uh, I—” he glances at you, unsure of what to say at this point.

“Rach, why don’t you go check on your sister?” You suggest, feeling the reason that Frankie might need a couple of minutes to calm down throb and jump against your hip. Not that your restraint is much better. You’re going to need to change your panties just from being kissed.

“Uh, sure, I can do that.” She nods dramatically, whirling around. “Then I—I’m going to go over to Ben’s. All day. I’ll text when I come back.”

“Breakfast in five minutes!” You call after her, not sure if she’s actually heard you or not as her footsteps ascend the stairs all over again. She’s gone again in a flash and you bite your lip when your eyes track back to Frankie, no guilt or embarrassment in your expression, only a little bit of sheepishness at being caught.

“Well, I think that embarrassed her.” Frankie comments as he looks over to you. He doesn’t know exactly what you are thinking, but it’s not regret on your face. That makes a ghost of a smile curl up the edges of his mouth.

“Don’t let her fool you.” The warmth in your cheeks is only matched by the warmth in the rest of you, waves of it crawling under your skin with how close he is. “She thinks I don’t know that she’s wanted her parents back together since she was five years old.”

“She didn’t know me.” Frankie frowns slightly and hopes this isn’t just some kind of wish fulfillment.

“I used to tell her more.” You admit, though you’re not sure if that’s good or bad. It’s selfish, but it was also survival. “I stopped when she got old enough to realize that…” Blowing out a breath, your eyes drop down from his. He probably does not want to hear this, despite kissing you back just now. “That I’ve still always had feelings for you.”

“You— you still wanted to be with me?” He’s surprised that you would, given how he had left. “Baby….its— I’ve always regretted leaving you. I called you.” He reveals. “Several times….but I never could say anything.”

“You called?” Your eyebrows raise back all the way up your forehead, eyes watery with hopeful tears that you refuse to shed and ruin the moment. “Oh no…” A gasp leaves you, almost washing out the sounds of Rachel and Luna cooing and giggling at each other over the baby monitor. “You called…in the two years after you left for the Army?”

“Yeah.” Frankie chokes out, looking away and feeling ashamed that he hadn’t been able to fucking say a word when he had called your house. “After I got out of bootcamp. I would fucking dial your number at least twice a week. Every time, someone would pick up and I couldn’t say a word. Didn’t have the words I wanted to say.”

“And then…after a while…the number stopped working?” You guess, biting back a sigh of regret.

“Yeah.” He frowns and tilts his head. “How did you—”

“Because my parents got their phone number changed after we had so many hangups in such a short amount of time,” you explain, now feeling guilty for what had happened. “They thought it was some criminal or stalker or something. We moved about a year later anyway.”

“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, closing his eyes and berating himself for his fucking stupidity. “I just— I choked every time I tried to ask for you. In fucking Delta training and I couldn’t fucking apologize.”

“No use in being upset about it now…” Those days are twenty years past. A lifetime ago and then some. And you’re stuck in the here and now with your hand still flexing at his hip. “We should…talk, though. Rach is going to have a million questions.”

“Of course.” He nods and slides his hands over his lounging pants. “What— you start.”

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it… You tell yourself sternly, eyes flickering down to where his large hands stretch dangerously to other, equally interesting parts of him. “We both just…we were seeing other people. Until literally a few days ago.” If you don’t remind yourselves of that you feel like you’ll burst. “But…I miss you. And I do still have feelings for you. And…and if you’re open to it, when you’re ready, I think finding out how we could be together as adults is— well, it’s a long time coming, would you say?”

That….is not what he expected you to say. He had expected to hear something about taking it slow or perhaps it should be kept quiet, but not that. “I’ve never stopped having feelings for you.” Frankie promises you softly. “And I— I’ve missed you every goddamn day.”

“I’m not going to push you for anything. Not quickly, not ever.” Whatever he wants to have with you, you want it to be freely given just like you intend to give freely. “I kind of…really love seeing you in my house like this…”

He looks down at his clothes, like that might explain what you are talking about. “Rumpled?” He jokes quietly.

“That’s one word for it,” You admit, grinning softly. “I was thinking sexy, though.”

“If tired, ex-military dad is sexy, I guess I’m it.” Frankie smirks.

“It is.” You can’t help but laugh a little. “Definitely.”

He steps closer to you again. “Well, do you want to drool over this tired dad mowing the grass?” He teases. “I’ll even do it shirtless.”

“Eat breakfast with us first.” That is something you’ll insist on, especially since the timer is about to go off on the oven in about twenty seconds. “And then I’ll sit and gawk at the dining room table afterward.”

Frankie snorts but agrees with a nod. “It smells amazing. You are a great cook.”

“You always liked breakfast, so I took a shot that you would like Rachel’s favorite baked French toast.” You’re going to need to open the oven in just a few seconds, but the last thing you want to do is pull away from the heat of him. “I swear I can do more than just casseroles now.”

He chuckles quietly. “Better than me. Although I need to learn. Luna deserves to have a parent who can feed her more than frozen dinners.” You also deserve to have some of the burden lifted off of you, but that’s another conversation.

“I’ll teach you if you want?” There were a couple of family recipes his mother taught you when you were teenagers that Rachel loves, and plenty of other things of course. But when the timer goes off and you’re forced to step away reluctantly, you add: “And I bet Rachel would, too. She’s pretty damn good in her own right. It might be something you can do together.”

“Maybe we can all do it?” Frankie asks hopefully. Wanting to spend time with both of you. “Between the two of you, I might have a fighting chance.”

“Absolutely.” You’re about willing to promise him anything he wants right now, but first it’s just about taking the pans out of the oven and stifling the need to steal one more kiss when you hear Rachel descend the stairs with a happily babbling Luna in her arms.

“Good.” Frankie makes sure you aren’t holding a pan when he swoops in again. Planting a quick, hard kiss on your lips. “Later.” He whispers, much like he had promised so many years ago when you were about to be interrupted.

It’s good that the girls make plenty of noise coming downstairs so no one else can hear the more-than-slightly-pitiful whimper that Frankie pulls out of you, but you snap back into reality well enough to clamp your mouth shut and motion for him to grab plates from the cupboard without imploding.

“Everyone decent?” Rachel calls out before her head pokes around the door. “There’s a small child present!”

“We were never not decent,” you point out, waving your daughter into the room. “Do you want to get your sister’s cup of food or help your dad set the table?” It’s possibly the most domestic sentence you’ve said…maybe ever, and it rolls through you like summer sunrise.

“Whatever you need me to do.” Her grin is wide and proudly embarrassed as she eyes both of you. “Soooooooooooo. Mom.” She tilts her head towards you with a glint in her eyes. “Do we need to have the safe sex talk, young lady?”

“Your very existence is proof that it’s too late for that,” you remind her, but a smirk forms in the corner of your mouth either way. “Let’s all sit down to eat and we can talk a little. Okay?”

“Seriously though.” Rachel turns towards her dad. “You hurt my mom, and I’ll sic Ben on you.” She warns playfully.

“Sweet pea, get your sister settled and we’ll all talk,” you insist, biting your lip a little at the idea of anything going wrong again. You don’t like it and you don’t even want to process it right now.

“Okay.” It’s more you using ‘sweet pea’ instead of anything else that makes her nod and move to get Luna settled in her high chair. You are upset about something, or avoiding it and she wonders what it is.

It takes a few minutes to get everyone settled and served, but you manage it pretty well and Frankie gets Luna fed before digging in for himself.

“So….” Frankie takes a bite, groaning and rolling his eyes happily at the taste of the casserole. “This is good.” He moans. “Like the best damn thing I’ve ever eaten.” He might have been about to start this talk, but now he’s distracted by the breakfast.

"Iknowright?" Rachel mumbles all at once, thrilled to see her favorite breakfast materialize on the table without asking for it.

“So good.” He forks up another bite before reaching for the syrup again to add more to the French toast bake.

"At least I know I can subdue you both with French toast if you get out of hand," you tease, looking between father and daughter at the table and snorting a laugh.

Both of them look up at you at the same time, forks halfway to their mouths, with the exact same disgruntled expression on their faces.

"Goddamn I wish you could see yourselves right now." It isn't that you didn't know Rachel was like her father. You had known that for her whole life. But seeing them side by side throws it into sharp relief. "Look at these two," you coo to Luna, reaching over to tickle the baby's soft and chubby belly in that way that makes her giggle. "They're exactly the same, aren't they sweetheart?"

It’s fucking amazing, how you are with Luna. Frankie had always felt like Marie wasn’t as maternal or soft as he thought she should be, but then immediately felt guilty for thinking that way. He’s just happy that you are obviously thrilled to have a baby in the house. “We have some similar traits?” He asks, looking over at Rachel.

"Apparently a lot." Rachel shrugs, not knowing she does it in the same way as her father and always has. "According to Mom, Ben should have picked up a vibe really fast."

"I think it just made him subconsciously more comfortable with you," you clarify, forking up another bite of your own breakfast. "Which is a good thing. I'm not saying he should have been confused by it or anything."

Frankie chuckles lightly and reaches over to pick up another spoonful of the puréed apples and sweet potato to feed to Luna. “He would have just thought you were weird.” He jokes.

"To be fair, he does think I'm weird," Rachel clarifies. Her coffee is getting low and she stretches to grab the pot for a refill. "But he likes that about me."

He snorts and nods, holding up his cup when she offers to refresh his. “Ben’s weird himself, so that checks out.”

"Weird is better." You've always thought so. Even used to say so when you were younger. "It's more interesting."

“You used to say I was your perfect kind of weird.” Frankie blurts out, remembering when you would lovingly coo it to him. He would always roll his eyes, but he enjoyed it.

"You were." The reminder – the fact that he even remembers you saying that – warms through you and your face burns bashfully. "Probably still are, if we're honest."

“I think that makes you even weirder.” Frankie snorts, shooting you a playful look. “Because….look at me.”

"I'm not exactly the world's most exciting person, Frankie." You aim a shrug in his direction, doctoring your refilled mug of coffee. "It took me a long time, but for the most part I'm happy with where I am in life. That doesn't make me too interesting, though."

“No, nothing is interesting about a strong, beautiful, capable woman who has raised an equally beautiful daughter by herself, made a comfortable life for her and still maintained the sweetness of youth.” Frankie narrows his eyes slightly, hating how you put yourself down.

"And she has a super fucking cool job, too." Rachel pipes up, obviously ready to back her father up on this one. "Working for the Mouse means we get to go to the parks for free. Luna's going to love it just like I did."

“Just because you went, doesn’t mean Luna will get tickets too, sweetheart.” Frankie reminds her.

“Of course we’ll go.” The idea that Frankie doesn’t think you’d treat his baby daughter well hits you somewhere deep in your chest and you work not to frown. “Unless you don’t want to go? Then we’ll just have a girl’s day.”

“It’s not—” he’s offended you, something that he wasn’t trying to do and he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way you took it. I just— I never assume anything.” He tells you. “Just because you have tickets doesn’t mean you owe them us, that’s all.”

“It isn’t that I owe it to you.” Reaching across the space at the table in front of Luna’s highchair, you squeeze his hand gently. “But Rach is right, even if she didn’t exactly mean to point it out. We’re a family.”

Frankie looks over at Luna and smiles softly, the baby is shoving her fingers in her mouth and cooing happily. “You ever want more kids?” He asks.

"All the time." You don't mind answering that honestly, but you shrug your shoulders and pick up a piece of bacon from your plate. "I don't relish being referred to as a geriatric pregnancy, though."

“You aren’t geriatric.” Frankie frowns and shakes his head. “Hell— I mean…I thought this was my first go round, but I missed the first.” He hates it, but he reaches over and takes Rachel’s hand with his other. Holding both of your hands.

"Geriatric pregnancies are anyone giving birth over the age of thirty-five." Rachel clarifies for her father, fully putting aside her fork to hold his hand with both of hers. "Mom just doesn't want to feel old. Even though she says I'm the thing that made her old." The last thought comes with a teasing grin thrown your way.

“Hell, I feel ancient knowing I have a grown ass daughter.” Frankie snorts, shaking his head. “I know she feels the same way, considering she had to carry you.”

Your own half-laugh sounds when you swing your head over to look at him. "You make big babies, Morales."

He chuckles and shrugs slightly. “That might be why Marie was never happy after Luna.” He jokes. “She was nearly eleven pounds, believe it or not.”

Rachel snorts, forkful of food halfway to her mouth, and grins. "Twins. I was eleven pounds, too. Eleven pounds and...twenty inches?" She looks to you when she can't remember.

"Twenty-one." It probably shouldn't, but it makes you laugh at this point. The horror over how big she was at birth is long over with. "The nurse asked me if the father was a giant."

“Definitely not a giant.” Frankie huffs, knowing that he’s shorter and weighs less than Rachel’s boyfriend. But he can still kick his ass.

"To answer your question..." The three of you go back to eating, finishing up your plates with satisfaction. "I absolutely think about having more kids all the time. That's why I love babysitting so much."

“Yeah….” It’s definitely helped him. He had spent so much time worrying about his home life that he couldn’t properly square things away. He owes you a lot. “You’re great with her.”

"If I ever overstep, you just need to tell me." It's been a lot of years since you took care of your own infant. Parenting advice has definitely changed. And as much as you might dream about having another kid, Luna is not your baby. She's Frankie's and that means he has the last word on decisions for her.

“I doubt you could overstep.” He argues but he nods when you just stare at him. “But I will let you know.”

"So..." When the last bite is off her plate, Rachel sits back in her chair with her coffee mug in both hands. "I'm going to go to Ben's..." she repeats her thought from earlier with both eyebrows raised. "All day. Probably for two days...you guys...gonna do anything special?"

Frankie cuts his eyes over to Rachel, knowing exactly what she’s going to be doing thanks to Ben’s fat fucking mouth before he knew she was his daughter. “Talking.” He grunts. “Cutting the grass. Cleaning my guns.”

"Dad..." Since she broke the ice on using that title, Rachel has embraced it. "No guns on Ben."

“No promises.” Frankie huffs. “Fucker deserves it.” He shrugs his shoulders when she squawks at him. “What? I won’t hit anything vital!”

"Sorry, Rach." You snicker softly, under your breath. "This is part of having a Dad."

“I don’t think I like this part.” Rachel rolls her eyes playfully and Frankie rolls his right back.

“Yeah, will I don’t like knowing how my daughter gives a blowjob. So we’re even.”

"Okey dokey." Instantly shooting up from the table, you focus entirely on picking up Luna without looking at Rachel or Frankie. "Gonna take the baby into the living room. I'll clean up later."

“Sorry.” Frankie apologizes as you whisk out of the room like your pants are on fire. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

"She'll get over it." Rachel does smile though, a small and embarrassed expression on her face. "Ben feels like an asshole for talking the way he did, for the record. He apologized to me, too. Even though I don't really care."

“We’ve all talked that way before.” Frankie can admit that. The only reason it became a problem is because of who she is to him. Otherwise, he wouldn’t care. “But it’s good he apologized. He really loves you.”

"And I really love him." She promises, absolutely serious. "As his friend, I hope you know that."

“Even as your dad.” It’s a title that always makes him smile when either one of them uses it. “I want you to be with someone who loves you. That’s all I want. He’s a good man.”

"I know it's new..." she sips her coffee as they sit together. "But do you mind that I've started using that name?"

“No.” That’s something he would never mind. “Not at all, I’m….glad you feel comfortable calling me ‘Dad’.” He admits with a small smile. “Just hope that one day that you’re proud that I am your dad.”

"I am proud." Even when he was just her boyfriend's friend, she had always liked Frankie a lot. He's a good guy who doesn't give himself nearly enough credit. "I'm proud of Mom and I'm proud of you, too."

“That…that’s great.” He nods, enjoying the conversation and feeling proud of the fact that she is happy to know him.

"I'm going to clean up and go to Ben's." Pushing back from the table and standing, Rachel puts one hand out to squeeze his shoulder and starts to pick up dishes and stack them in her arms. "Whatever you and Mom end up talking about...just know how much she loves you. My whole life she's never looked at another guy the way she looks at you. I know you mean the world to her."

“You have no reason to really believe me, because of me being gone from your life the entire time you were growing up, but I don’t want to hurt her. Ever again.” Frankie promises. “I think we deserve to be happy.”

"I think so, too." Rachel agrees, but instead of letting the moment get too serious, she throws her father a grin and nods toward the backyard. "So go mow the lawn so she can have a good ogle. I'll clean up from breakfast before I go."

Frankie snorts, aware that her knowledge of that meant she had been eavesdropping, but he doesn’t mind it. “Thanks,” he tosses her his own grin and pushes back from the table to at least clear his plate. “Plus, it’ll be good for her not to have to do the grass.”

******

“I don’t think you will be less than a mama to her.” He hums as he transfers the baby into your arms. “She will only know you as her mother, especially the way you already love her.”

“Sounds like you’re planning on staying.” And while it’s just an observation, your heart leaps up into your throat so you have to swallow it back done just to breathe.

“If that’s what we decide.” He won’t push his way in. Luna yawns and leans her head against your shoulder in a move that makes him smile. “We can talk about it later. She’s sleepy and I need a shower.”

“I’ll put her down for her nap. You go clean up, love.” Honestly? You dread the thought of Frankie leaving again. Even having him leave to go to work will have you in a state of anxiety for a while, even if you’re doing your best to hold it together for the girls’ sakes. Luna needs a steady caregiver and Rachel absolutely does not need to see you anxious or worrying over her father.

“Come talk to me after you get her down?” He asks, knowing it won’t take him long to shower. He would probably be dressed by the time you get her down.

“Absolutely.” Not having to talk over the baby’s head is a good place to start, if nothing else. You lean in when he moves to kiss your cheek again and then part, with Frankie heading to the bathroom and you heading into what is now Luna’s nursery.

Frankie has been trained by the military. He was never an untidy person to start, but an entire career in the Army had taught him how to clean and be efficient in showering. He does take a little more time today, trimming his beard and shaving, wanting to clean up a little more for you.

As predicted, by the time you get Luna settled down for her nap, you hear the shower shut off down the hall. A small stop off in your own room might just be to check your hair and that you haven’t had a bit of bacon stuck in your teeth all morning. Once you’ve decided he’s had enough time to dress and you can’t stall anymore, you grab the baby monitor and go down the hall to knock on his door.

Because of the shaving, Frankie is still wrapped in a towel, secured at his waist. Still, he doesn’t hesitate. “Come in.”

"Luna's down for her uh— her, her nap," you report, only barely stammering when you see Frankie standing by the bed and sighing inwardly at the way your mouth runs dry.

“Good.” He doesn’t smirk, although he wants to. You alternate between staring and looking away in embarrassment.

"It's gonna be hard to talk if I can't look you in the eye." Which is stupid, because it's not like he wasn't the first person in the world you were naked with – but here you are flustered like a teenager all over again.

“Does it bother you?” Frankie asks, looking down. “That I’m not dressed? You knocked on my door.”

"It doesn't bother me." But you do feel the need to clarify, for the sake of the situation. "It's just very distracting."

“Distracting, huh?” Frankie was never more confident than he was with you and since being here, that has started to come back. “Wonder why that is.”

"Because you're handsome, Francisco," you huff, fully amused, and roll your eyes at him for effect.

“And you’re gorgeous, gatita.” He murmurs.

"We should probably have that talk." Instinctively, shutting the door comes with stepping inside, even though it isn't necessary. Maybe it's a leftover reflex from seeking privacy in the apartments where you grew up.

“Okay.” Frankie moves over to the dresser to grab a pair of sweats to slide on under the towel so you won’t be uncomfortable.

"You want to go first?" The only place in the room to sit is on the guest bed, and you perch on the end with your hands under your thighs and nerves jittering out of control.

“You look like you need get things off your chest.” Frankie hums. “You can go first.”

"I'm just...trying to think about what comes next." Your fingers twist in the blanket, making you look even more nervous than you feel. "I make plenty enough to support this family while you get things cleared up with your license. This is a stable home for Luna with actual family to help look after her. "If what you want is to be back together, we're in a very good position to make it work."

“I have my retirement.” Frankie reminds you. “I don’t expect you to support us. I want to take care of you too.” He never wants to take advantage of you. He wants to give you more than he ever takes.

"Do you actually still enjoy flying? Is it something you want to get back to? Or is it what you were doing because you were made to?" It's a fair question, and one you don't ask easily. But you get the feeling that before this, Frankie didn't get a lot of options.

“I love it.” Frankie admits. “I’m fucking good at it, completely in love with it. Why?”

"I wasn't sure if Marie had given you a chance to actually choose what you love to do, instead of just what would make money," you admit. "I was going to offer that you could take your time. Pursue whatever you wanted to, or even be a stay at home Dad for a while if that's something that interests you. I just..." One hand sneaks out from under your thigh and reaches for him as you sit on the bed. "I want you to be happy, baby. Truly happy."

“I—” Frankie’s never thought about being a stay at home dad. “I volunteered for flight school. Being in the air, flying, it’s like second nature to me now.” He tells you, kneeling down in front of you. “But…I wouldn’t mind staying home with Luna.” He admits. “I would be happy with that for a bit. I could fly part time. Spend most of it with her, still get my thrills from flying.”

"I don't want you to do what you feel you have to." That point can't have enough emphasis for you. It really is the backbone of everything you want for his future – that it is a future he chooses for himself out of passion and excitement. "If flying is what you want to do, then find the job that makes you the most excited. That lets you balance and be happy and not run yourself into the ground like I know you've been doing because you're still the same Frankie that I fell in love with when we were just kids."

“What I have to do is to be a good example to Luna, to Rachel.” He tells you. “To give them everything I can and make you happy too.”

"And I have every faith that you'll do that." Just once, you lost your faith in Frankie Morales because of fear. You're not going to let it happen again, when you're finally in a position for both of you to really have everything you've ever wanted.

“Can I kiss you again?” Frankie asks, looking into your eyes.

It's like feeling a light switch flip somewhere in your body, and you light up all over. Including your brightest smile. "I really want you to."

Frankie smiles, huffing out a small laugh as he lunges forward and presses his lips to yours again.

The momentum tips you backward on the bed, laying you out on the bed underneath him and making you reach up to grab his shoulders to steady yourself. It's not a small kiss or a tentative one, but one that blots out the rest of the world, making sure the only thing you can possibly think of is him.

It’s been a long time since he has been so enthusiastic about kissing someone, but this is just like your first time all over again. He’s nervous, excited. Age and experience are the only things keeping his hips from rocking an already hard erection against your stomach as he covers your body with his own.

If anyone was trying to tell the difference between you and Frankie as teenagers and you and Frankie now, they would find the task almost impossible. An all-consuming kiss, wandering grasping hands, and only the barest thread of restraint are all hallmarks of the two of you together. If he had still been wearing that towel it would be gone in an instant, but as it is one of your hands slides all the way down to the waistband of his sweatpants and grips in earnest.

“Fuck.” Drowning in you is where he wants to stay. Barely breathing and pulling himself away to kiss down your neck. Wanting to kiss every inch of you. “I— I got checked out.” He groans against your neck. “Physical. I’m clean.”

The pause that gives you is immediate, freezing under him in embarrassment. “I—I haven’t yet. Since…it’s only been a few days. I have condoms though.” With all the upheaval since ending things with Santiago, getting tested had slipped your mind.

“It’s – Pope’s clean.” He knows his brother in arms. He knows how the man is. He might have been a man whore before, but he doesn’t sleep with multiple women. If he was with you, he was tested and only slept with you. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“I—” Maybe its impulsive. Or overly emotional. But when Frankie meets your eyes all you can do is tell him the truth. “I just want to feel you again.”

Frankie groans and nods, nudging his nose against yours and kissing you again. “I want that too.” He insists, pulling away to start peeling your clothes off of you as efficiently as possible.

The pair of leggings and light dress you had reached for this morning in an effort for minimal fuss might as well be nothing at all in the face of Frankie’s determination. The thin cotton dress is up over your head in no time and the leggings peel off of you with all the difficulty of a two-piece puzzle. “I didn’t expect this…” you admit quietly, telling him I’m not so many words that you would have at least picked a matching bra and panties set this morning if you thought there was a possibility he would see them.

“Neither did I,” his smooth cheek would suggest otherwise, but he grins and leans down to kiss down your chest. “But I don’t care about panties, hair, or anything else. I just want you.”

It’s useless that he felt the need to put on pants, because now you’re pushing them off his hips with both hands and biting back a groan at the softness of him. He’s filled out, because of course he has, and the scars from his missions echo your stretch marks in all the years that have been lost between you.

“Gatita…” Your nickname comes out like a prayer, his lips worshipping every inch of your skin.

“Bet it’s been a while since you’ve groaned that name.” It’s certainly been long enough since you heard it like that, a fact that shivers through you with increasing excitement.

“Not true.” He admits with a small smirk as he looks up at you. “You were still my favorite jerk off memory.”

“Still moaning my name while you get yourself off?” Someone that’s simultaneously the sweetest and filthiest thing you’ve heard in ages and you open your legs wider to let him rest in that valley between your thighs. “Let’s see if we can give you something new to think about.”

He gives another filthy groan, aware that things have changed, but he doesn’t care. Your stretch marks are gorgeous to him, you gave birth to his child. Every mark is special. You are just as sexy to him as you were when you both were teenagers. He pulls your bra down and wraps his lips around one nipple as he slides his fingers between your folds to find your clit.

“Fuck, Frankie!” Careful not to be too loud since Luna is napping down the hall, you bite back letting a real shout out and it turns into more of a growl. Your hands are on him instantly, grasping at his shoulders, curling in his hair, and holding him in tight against you as your hips snap up to seek out his thick fingers.

He chuckles darkly, very pleased to find that you are reactive and vocal in your older years. Keeping you quiet had been a favorite game of his.

It isn’t really that different from when you were young. The desire is there as clear as day, coursing through you and sparking with every touch. Every kiss is endlessly deep, like you hold the key to each other’s lives somewhere inside yourselves and the hunt for that missing piece is as deliberate as it is lazy.

Fingers circle your throbbing sex, slicking themselves up with the arousal that is pouring out of you before he dips them inside. Remembering how you loved to be fingered when you were younger, even letting him do it on the subway under a jacket.

If it were anyone else, you might be embarrassed at how thoroughly dripping you are for him already. But Frankie was the first to feel how wet you get from something as simple as being kissed just right, and the hope that is making your pulse beat wildly out of time right now is that he will also be the last. The bookends of your lives might always have been meant to be each other.

The key to making your legs shake and your pussy clench around him is to start slowly. Pushing two fingers deep and curling them up as your walls stretch around him. Groaning at your nipple and flicking his tongue over the stiff peak.

For as well as he remembers your body, it might as well be yesterday that he last touched you and not twenty-five years ago. Your back bows and you moan again, fingernails scraping against his scalp in the way that always makes him growl gorgeously.

“Shit.” Frankie hisses in pleasure, pulling his fingers back and enjoying the sucking sound that they make in your sopping wet pussy. Only to press his thumb to your clit and plunge them back deep again.

The whines and whimpers he pulls from you are as deliberate as any musician playing their instrument in an orchestra. He still plays you expertly. Like muscle memory. He is the one who taught you so much of what brings you pleasure, and you did the same for him. It's all you can do in this moment to get your mind into high gear like the rest of your body, and reach down with one hand and wrap your fingers around his cock.

"Fuck." He groans, rocking his hips up towards the long-wanted touch of your hands. "You always touch me— fuck," he moans your name. "You touch me like no one else ever has."

"Always make me feel so good, baby," you pant out, body twisting every second to be able to be as close to him as possible. "Always want to return the favor."

"You will." He promises. "Let me make you feel good."

"You always do." The promise is absolute, because he really always knows how to make you feel better than anything else ever could.

His fingers continue to pump into you, working you higher and higher as every sensitive nerve ending in your pussy is set on fire by his touch. The tell-tale sign is when your legs begin to shake, thighs tightening and pussy clenching around his fingers. The long strokes of your hand over his cock stutter as pleasure starts to short-circuit your mind, making you forget everything except how good you feel. Frankie has always been good with his hands, but he's definitely learned a few tricks over the years.

Your pussy clenches around his fingers like a vice and he keeps pumping them into you. Wanting to wring you of every second of pleasure you will give him. The quiet cry of his name is like a shot of lightning through his system. "Good girl, fuck gatita. You're so good for me."

It's not you who is being good right now, but Frankie who is treating you so well that when you cry out in pleasure there are actual tears in your eyes. The peak of that pleasure that he's been building you up to is so high that you almost get the sensation of falling when your body finally tenses, shaking you apart at the seams so that the only part of you that hangs on as you start to cum are the parts of you that he has claimed as his own.

His lips still skim over your body as he works you through it. Whispering praises into your skin in Spanish as he watches your face in awe. Struck by how beautiful you are, crushed that he has been so stupid as to walk away so long ago. Determine to make up for lost time.

Whimpering when the aftershocks leave you limp underneath him, both of your hands urge Frankie back up your body, needing to kiss him more than you need air in this moment.

He hums proudly as he shuffles up, kissing you lazily with a grin curving his lips. “Sounds like you just came, gatita.” He teases quietly.

“You’re a menace, Frankie Morales.” The observation is as true now was it was twenty-five years ago.

"Your menace." He adds, smirking slightly as he kisses you again. It sounds amazing, being yours again. He's always been yours in his heart, but now...it's a second chance for both of you.

“I love you, baby.” Another kiss for him is gentler this time. His face is full of promises and his eyes shine bright in the early afternoon light that streams in through his windows.

"I love you." He vows softly, reaching up and caressing your cheek. "I want to make love to you."

“Please.” It might sound like begging, and maybe it is, but it’s been far too long since the last time you laid in this man’s arms and right now you don’t want to be anywhere else.

Every touch is calculated, timed. Meant to show you how much he is cherishing you and this moment means the world to him. He kisses your lips and whispers his love for you once again as he shifts and lines up with your welcoming entrance.

Every stitch of clothing between you is gone along with your inhibitions. Nothing to interrupt you as long as Luna stays asleep and you are definitely not going to do anything to wake up that angel. You'll swallow down every cry or pour it into kissing Frankie and just basking in the beauty of having him back in this moment.

"I love you, gatita." They were the same words that he had whispered to you when he had pushed inside you the first time, repeated now as he slowly starts to sink into you. Watching every micro expression you make as he feels like he is coming home.

“I love you s—so much.” You’ve never been overtly emotional about sex. Not really. You weren’t the kind of girl who cried at the emotional moment of losing your virginity or got choked up over a loving vow made in the heat of the moment. But being so connected with Frankie again almost has you in tears at the sheer rightness of this moment.

Frankie’s arms slide under you, pulling you close as he starts to pull his hips back. Not wanting there to be an inch of space between you when there doesn’t have to be. “It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispers. “Not letting you go again.”

The promise rolls through you with such seriousness that you cling to him a little more tightly. “Never going to let you go.” When his hips tilt forward again, filling you and pressing your bodies together just that much tighter, you could swear you feel one of the cracks in your heart knit back together.

His own heart doesn’t ache anymore, the missing piece that has been gaping in his chest is returned to him. Slotted right back into place perfectly and making him whole. Kissing you again as age and emotions make this time last much longer than your first together.

Moans and praises stay stifled not because of a small apartment with family nearby, not because of friends or because the moment is stolen or illicit, but because you’re drowning in kissing each other the entire time. Every movement is fluid, moving one into the other so it is impossible to tell where you end and he begins, all that matters is that you’re not letting go. Nothing else matters if it isn’t something you can do together — because you’ll never be apart again.

Nothing has ever been as magical as this moment, beyond the first moment he held Luna after she was just born. Nothing can compare to the utter tranquility in his soul, the quiet in his mind as he gives and takes from you in equal parts.

Who knows how long you stay in that bed, turning over each other, clinging and moaning low into drawn out kisses. Who knows how long you stay there or how many times you change positions, keeping each other as close as possible while you work through the bliss of reunion up to the precipice of pleasure. By the time his hips start to stutter and the coil of orgasm starts to tug at the pit of your stomach, you’re on top of him — riding him even as you pour your heart into sobbing praise.

Looking up at you in wonder, all he can do is watch as you splinter yourself into pieces on top of him. Mixing and mingling with him until he is tugging you back close and devouring your mouth in another kiss. Breathing his amazement into you.

You shatter together, finding that remarkable peak of pleasure all at once, and holding tight to each other as you ride out the aftershocks as one.

It goes on forever. Or at least it seems too. Both of you drifting down together until you are collapsed against his chest and breathless. Frankie aching with the first good pain he’s felt in such a long time.

“I love you, baby.” This is it. This is home. The closest to paradise you have ever been or will ever be is in this man’s arms and you’re not going to let another second of your life pass without him being a part of it.

“I love you too, gatita.” He wraps an arm around you and strokes your bare back softly. “I had a thought today, one that’s horrible, but it’s true.” You hum, lifting up to your elbow to look at him curiously. “I wished that you were Luna’s mother. That she was our second baby together.” He chuckles. “Or that late in life ‘whoops’.”

“You never know,” you hum softly, cradled on his chest with your knees still bracketing his hips. If you never move again, you’ll be only too happy to be this close to him. “I still have a couple of years in me as far as baby making goes. Only a few, but they’re still there. And Luna…Frankie, I already love her. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t give birth to her myself.”

His brow lifts in surprise. “Would you really want that?” He asks seriously. “Another baby? With me?”

“I don’t know if it’s possible or safe,” you remind him gently, lifting your head to kiss him again. “But what if I made an appointment with my doctor to get checked out? Let her tell us if it’s a bad idea before we get our hearts set on it?”

“Whatever you want.” Frankie agrees. “I’m clean.” He promises you softly. “I’m never touching any of that shit ever again.” He told you about the coke and you had taken it surprisingly well, but he wants to remind you that he’s serious.

"I know, love." It was a long and twisted road that led him to that, and Marie was the one driving the proverbial car, so you know it's behind him for sure. But you also know Rachel would never forgive him if he relapsed and something happened to little Luna, and he has the love of two daughters hanging in the balance now. "I also know, whatever happens, I love you and I'm going to be right here at your side."

“My license is going to be reinstated.” He whispers quietly. “One of the board members told me. It’s not official yet, but he….wanted to let me know.”

"Honey that's— that's fantastic." You dive in to kiss him again before reluctantly sliding off of him, letting yourself be tucked into his side instead. "We're gonna make it work this time, Frankie. Every bit of it."

“Even if I don’t fly right away, I have my retirement. My disability.” He promises. “I can help you. I need to help you.”

"We'll make up a budget, and we'll make sure everyone is contributing to the house somehow." The grin playing at your lips is soft, and you brush some hair out of his eyes. "Luna can contribute with giggles. The adults will take care of the rest."

“She also blows great raspberries.” He jokes, still slowly caressing your back and hoping this moment never ends.

As if the mention of her name was enough, the sounds of movement from over the baby monitor are nondescript for a minute or so before the soft cooing of a wakening baby turns to the blustering that comes before cries. "Well..." you huff a small laugh and lift yourself up on your elbow. "At least she let us finish."

Frankie laughs and taps your hip. “I’ll get her.” He promises.

"I'm gonna clean up and then I'll meet you downstairs?" The domesticity of the whole thing makes you smile, and you lay back on the pillow again to admire him as he hauls himself out of bed to pull on his boxers and grabs the baby monitor.

Frankie coos when he opens the door, instantly moving over to the crib to get Luna out. “It’s okay, baby girl. Daddy’s gotcha.”

It is okay. Life may not be perfect yet but the promise of it is there. He has you back, he has both of his daughters, and he’s going to make it work this time. You all are. As a family.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer @shakespeareanwannabe

TSR: @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @darkheartgatita @anoverwhelmingdin @thisishwrworld

My Masterlist!

[radiant-reid]

Ok imagine r has like a little niece whose a toddler and she’s staying the night with r and Spencer and she gets scared and climbs into bed with them and r thinks Spencer is going to get annoyed but he’s so sweet and caring

You're quietly giggling with Spencer in the spare room of your friend's place after an amazing day, spending time at the park, going to the cinema, and baking cookies. Getting to look after your goddaughter with Spencer has given you a taste of what it would be like to have your own child with him.

All of a sudden, there's a panicked knock at the door. "Auntie Y/n!" Addie cries out.

You turn away from Spencer and sit upright. "Come in, Addie." You say. She opens the door quickly, running in and to your side of the bed. She's crying, and you're immediately concerned. "Hey, baby, what's wrong?"

She climbs up onto the bed and into your lap, shaking like a leaf. "I had a bad dream." She tells you through her tears.

"Aw, it's okay." You coo, pushing her hair out of the way. "I promise everything's okay."

"But there are monsters under my bed." She informs you.

You shake your head. "You know what Spencer does?" You ask, and she shakes her head. "He catches monsters."

"Really?" She asks, looking at your boyfriend.

"I do." He confirms. "I can go check under your bed." He offers her.

She shakes her head, falling into your chest for a hug. "No, please, can I stay in here. I don't want to sleep alone."

You hold her tightly. "Of course, Addie." You assure her. You'll do anything she needs to help her calm down.

All her crying has her worn out quickly because she only lays next to you for a few minutes while you rub her back before she's asleep.

You turn to look at Spencer, who's on your other side. "I'll take her back in a few minutes. I just think she'll wake if I take her now."

"Then she'll be scared when she wakes up alone," Spencer reminds you, much more casual than you expected him to be.

"Yeah." You agree, knowing it's true. "But you don't want her sleeping in here with us."

That, however, is not true, and Spencer shakes his head. "Why not? She wants to sleep in here, so let her."

"Are you sure?" You double-check. "You're not annoyed?"

"I could never be annoyed with a kid, much less a little kid who wants her godmother's comfort." He assures you, reaching out to touch your non-occupied hand in the dark.

You cuddle close to him, kissing him on the cheek sleepily. "You're going to be an amazing dad, you know?"

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : dad!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : childbirth ; slighty suggestive humor once ; it's just fluffy ; it's cute ; Word Count : 1.9k Request : Anonny : okay but i really like that minho pregnancy angst…. do you plan on making part 2 like the after reunited life, her parents’ response or anything? like the post natal life, the moment he held his daughter for the very first time hihi is it too much to ask??? A/N : I absolutely DO plan on making a part two and here it is!! Woohoo!!! Thank you for requesting! It's definitely not too much to ask! Also! I got so choked up writing this, it made me so happy and at the same time so sad that I don't have a man like the fictional Minho in this story!!!

“I’ll be right back, love. I’m just gonna call the guys and let them know she’s here so they won’t make my phone go off all night.” He whispered as softly as possible, not wanting to wake his daughter that he had just laid in the little cot beside your hospital bed. You hummed tiredly in response, already nestling into the pillow that definitely wasn’t as soft as the ones you had at home, but right now, after 12 hours of active labor and a slightly wonky epidural, the entire hospital bed was like laying on a cloud.

 Minho couldn’t be prouder though, seeing you go through all of that, he commended every woman who had ever been in labor, and after checking the time and seeing how early in the morning it was, he made a mental reminder to call his mother and thank her for having him. 

Stepping outside of the room, he leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, his throat still slightly sore from crying when he had first laid eyes on his daughter, tears of happiness streaming down his face, unable to pull his eyes away from her as the doctors carried her over to the little table to clean her up. He was grateful that he had been given a second chance, that he got to hold your hand through the entire process, that he was able to be in the room when his daughter was brought into the world, and he swore that he wouldn’t mess up and he sure as hell would never leave again. 

“Minho…” His name had him finally looking around the hall, meeting eyes with your father and your mother who sat in the waiting chairs beside your door. He hadn’t seen your father since the day he had pushed the door shut against him, and while he had been meaning to meet up with your parents to apologize for the way he had been, he had just never gotten around to it. “How is our daughter and our granddaughter? Are they resting?” 

Minho quickly bowed his head to your parents, acknowledging them with a quiet “Sir…” and “Ma’am”, the awkwardness felt between the two hung in the air like a thick cloud that could be felt by everyone in the vicinity. “They’re both doing great… Y/N is getting some rest right now, yes, and the baby is sleeping.” He kept his head lowered, slightly fearful of looking your dad in the eyes. “I’d like to apologize… For the way that I behaved… For hurting Y/N. I love her so much… And our daughter will take top priority over everything else.” 

He finally raised his head, and when he did, he saw your father staring at him, it almost felt like he was being judged, but your mother shook her head, standing from her chair to embrace Minho in a quick hug. “Now, don’t you pay attention to him right now. He’s just grumpy because it’s past his bedtime.” She teased, and it was strange how your mothers presence and her words, much like your own, could so easily calm him down and make him feel relaxed. “I’m happy that Y/N has you, and that our granddaughter has you as her father. I know that you’ll take great care of them both. Welcome to the family.” 

///

“Are you just gonna carry her around all the time?” You asked lightly as you watched Minho walk by, your daughter seemed to be in a perpetual state of being carried by him in the little sling that was across his chest. “It’s been three weeks and the only time you put her down is when you use the bathroom or when you go to bed. You’re gonna spoil her.” You warned, but you also wanted to hold your daughter as well. Hell, you even had to practically race to the nursery to be the one to get her in the middle of the night since that was the only time you actually got to hold her since being in the hospital. 

“And? Our princess deserves to be spoiled, doesn’t she?” He flashed you your favorite smile before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Plus I go back to work next week, let me just love her a bit longer. I won’t be able to see her as much.” He was right, and you knew that he was dreading when this week was up, that’s why he stayed up so late, as if the longer he was awake it would keep the coming days at bay. 

You couldn’t blame him though, you’d do the same thing. Neither of you could fully wrap your head around how fast time had gone, you couldn’t believe that it had already been three weeks since you had given birth to her. You could see it in his eyes, with each passing day he’d get sadder and sadder, and you felt the same way. The house wouldn’t be the same without him in it, and you actually grew used to the sight of him walking around the house, doing his daily activities with your daughter strapped to his chest. 

“Well it’s almost her feeding time, can you at least let me hold her for fifteen minutes or so?” You posed, sitting up a little more on the couch and grabbing the little burp cloth off the side to drape over your shoulder as you got ready to have her in your arms. 

“Just whip your boob out and come over here. Or I’ll bring her to your boob.” He said with a snort, and you rolled your eyes as your head fell back against the couch. “Don’t be so shy, love. I was suckin’ on ‘em before she came.” He teased, and maybe it was the fact that you were now a mom that had you growing extremely embarrassed at the mention of your sex life, but you quickly shushed him as your hands moved to cover your face which only had him laughing even more. “I’m like 99.9% sure she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. But, I’ll cover her ears if it makes you feel better.” 

“Oh my gosh, shut up, Minho.” You groaned, but you couldn’t hide the fact that you were laughing as well, and the more you thought about how it would be after the week was up, the more you started to miss him already, and he hadn’t even gone back to work yet. 

///

Pink balloons were tied to every single chair that was set up in the backyard. The buffet table was lined with snacks and drinks for everyone that was there, although you didn’t really anticipate so many people to show up. The grill was fired up already and Bangchan and Felix had begun making the main course for the party while everyone else kind of took turns helping you decorate and ogling at your daughter. 

“Have you seen Minho?” You asked Jisung as he stepped out of the house, multiple beer cans held in both his hands and under his arms as he walked over to you. Your eyes had scanned over everyone that had filled your backyard multiple times and none of those times had your eyes landed on your husband in the crowd. 

“When I came outside he was sitting on the couch. I think he was crying a bit…” Jisung said, his lips drawing together in a thin line after he had answered. This wasn’t the first time he had done it, and according to the guys, the entire week leading up to today he’d disappear during work and one of them would usually find him hiding somewhere and crying by himself. 

“Right… Can you and the boys help finish setting everything up. I’m almost done… I just don’t want to leave him by himself.” Jisung nodded and you quickly scooped your daughter up, holding her on your hip as you walked into the house, and there he was. His head was lowered and you could hear the sniffles coming from where he sat. As you moved closer you could see the photo album of your daughter's first year sitting on his lap, his hands shakily flipping through the pages one by one. “Honey…” You murmured, and his head slowly raised to look at you, his eyes puffy and slightly red when they met yours. 

“Sorry…” He muttered, and you shook your head at his apology, coming closer to sit on the couch beside him, your daughter propped on your lap. His finger slipped into her hand, her own tiny fingers wrapping around it as she waved his hand around, babbling loudly as she looked up at him. “When did she get so big?” He questioned with a small gasp, his head tilted as he watched her with a bittersweet smile. 

You sighed softly, the sudden urge to cry taking hold of you as you looked at him. “She’s not that big yet… She’s still our baby…” You mused, trying your best to not only make him feel better, but to keep yourself from crying along with him. You glanced over at the book on his lap, scanning over the pictures on the page. “Oh, I remember that…” 

His eyes followed yours and he chuckled, although it sounded more sad than usual. “Our tour in Australia and… I refused to be away from you two for a whole month… So me and the guys at the last minute begged the managers to let you both go.” Most of the pictures were of the other members holding her and in most of them she looked like she was on the verge of crying. “She was only 6 months old… It’s only been 6 months since then…” His fingers brushed over the picture of himself holding her, his smile so wide as he sat on the beach with her, his tears freely falling down his cheeks as the memory played over in his mind. 

“And we have so many more months, so many years to keep making more memories with her…” You whispered, using one of your free hands to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Like today… She only gets a first birthday once, honey. I’m sure that when she looks back at her photos, she’ll want you to be in the pictures too.” 

He took a deep shaky breath, nodding his head before running his hands over his face. “Right… You’re right…” He slowly closed the book, placing it on the coffee table before grabbing your daughter off your lap and lifting her high in the air before bringing her back down and hugging her tight against his chest, eliciting a loud squeal mixed with laughter from her. “My princess is ready to party and so am I, let’s go!” 

His hand held onto hers as he playfully danced his way out to the backyard, the cheers from everyone at his and your daughters appearance were loud enough to be heard in the living room where you still sat, your eyes glued to the back of your husband as he practically skipped down the stairs, innocently dodging everyone who came towards him with their arms outstretched to take the baby. 

Minho was the perfect man, the perfect husband, the perfect father. There was no one else in the world that you could imagine loving you or your daughter the way he did, there was no one else in the entire universe who was everything a man should be, everything anyone would want their man to be… Minho was the most amazing, loving, devoted husband and father, and you were beyond grateful that he had come back into your life, that you had gotten a second chance with him, and more than anything, that your daughter was able to live a life with him as her father.

[sunrise-imagines]

Can I get some childhood friends to lovers hcs for Finn? Like the reader grew up with him and now they're dating as adults? Gender neutral or male reader also please :3

Of course!! I love this idea so much. Hope you enjoy!

TW: Light angst, lots of pining, hurt and comfort

Adult Finn x Reader Childhood Friends to Lovers

• Being the only two humans in Ooo, it was only a matter of time before you met each other at the ages of 12.

• Similarly to Finn, you had been found as a baby by a couple from the Candy Kingdom, and they raised you as their own with the help of Princess Bubblegum, her and Marceline becoming sort of older sister figures to you.

• One day, while visiting the castle, Ice King burst in from the wall in an another attempt to kidnap Princess Bubblegum, snow blowing everywhere as you looked up in fear.

• But then, out of nowhere, a boy with a bear hat and a magic dog burst in, beating the crap out of Ice King who fled back to his castle.

• When he turned to look at you, you both became shocked. Neither of you had any weird mutations or odd features, and he certainly wasn’t made of candy. He was human. You were the same.

• And from that day forward, you and Finn became inseparable friends, with you sometimes joining him and Jake on their many adventures.

• You watched as he grew up, fell in and out of love, found an entire island of other humans, met both his biological Mom and (deadbeat) Dad, lost his arm, and eventually prevented a war/world ending event. You sat with him as Fern lay dying, and went with him to plant the seed that would eventually sprout a new willow tree.

• Sometime after the end of Adventure Time, Finn and Huntress Wizard amicably broke up, deciding their relationship worked best as good friends/occasional work partners.

• Having developed a longtime crush on him, you had hoped that now was your chance, but your nervousness and not wanting to ruin your friendship got the better of you so you continued to admire him in secret.

• That was until Jake passed away, and Finn’s personality reverted back to when you were kids and the only thing that mattered was fighting monsters and adventuring.

• You grew concerned as he started to go on more and more dangerous missions, often times for no reason other than the thrill of it, and time after time he’d come back with even worse wounds. But you were always there to patch him up, no matter how bad it got.

• But today was different. After Simon had opened up to him and expressed his depression and how he felt out of place in this world now that he lost his magic, Finn had the bright idea that a life-threatening adventure was what he needed to cure his sadness.

• This of course went terrible for Simon, but Finn thought it was great, and when he came back afterwards with a giant slash on his back and told you about it, that was it.

• You went off on him, telling him that while you know he’s still grieving, almost getting himself killed all the time isn’t the answer. You were tired of seeing him get hurt, and in your righteous anger, you finally admitted that you were in love with him. Tears flowed down your cheeks as you softly admitted that you’d loved him since you were kids, and seeing him act like this after all of his past growth was hurting you.

• Finn’s eyes grew wide, he had no idea that you had felt that way about him. And even more, that you reciprocated the feelings he’d had since you were 18. But with everything going on, adventuring and eventually Jake’s death, he felt like he never had time to pursue a relationship you.

• So he pulls you into a hug, stroking your hair as you continue to cry into his shoulder. He apologizes for making you worry, saying that he didn’t know why he acted the way he did, he just needed a distraction from the pain of losing his brother. But in doing that, he had forgotten he still had you.

• He puts his hand on your chin, directing you to look at him. He smiles down at you, wiping away your tears with his thumb as he confesses that he felt the exact same way.

• Your tears change from ones of sadness to joy, and you feel the urge to kiss him. Luckily he has the same idea, and gently pulls you towards his lips and kisses you sweetly.

• Eventually you both pull away, and in that moment, everything feels like it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be.

• After you officially start dating, he stops going out on adventures as much, instead opting to spend more time with you and Jake’s kids.

• Of course, adventuring is still a part of him, but he focuses more on helping people than fighting and killing things, and of course he brings you along for the ride. Finally, after so many years waiting, the two of you are together.

[guccifrog]

WRONG NUMBER P12

matt sturniolo x f!reader

idk what to feel about this one tbh 🤓

y/n's pov

"Here," Chris said handing me a soda can, I took it and nodded my thanks. We've been all sitting in the waiting room for the past four hours, since I got to the hospital first thing in the morning, no one was allowed to see Matt. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest, every time the doctors opened the door.

Nick sat wide awake, his head resting on my shoulder as I stroked his hair back from his forehead. His eyes never left the door, and every time it swung open, he tensed. Chris was sitting on the floor next to us, his head in his hands. He kept checking his phone, only to sigh and put it away again. The triplets' mom, whose name I learned was Marylou, sat across from us with their dad. Her eyes were red from crying, but she tried to keep a brave face on for her kids.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, the seconds seeming to drag on for an eternity. I glanced at Nick, trying to think of something to say to take his mind off the waiting, but every time I opened my mouth, my voice caught in my throat.

Marylou shifted in her seat and glanced at me, then back at her Nick. She caught my eye for a moment and gave me a small, sad smile. I really wanted to go over and hug her, to tell her that everything would be okay, but I didn't know what to say to someone who was facing what they were facing.

The door suddenly opened, and a doctor came out, her expression serious. My stomach clenched in fear as she walked over to us. "I'm sorry to say," she began, her voice quiet but firm, "that the surgery was not successful." Nick's head shot up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "The patient has sustained too much damage, and his organs have begun to shut down. We've done everything we can, but…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

I felt like the world had stopped spinning as the doctor spoke those words. Is that it? Is this how it ends? it's that simple?

Nick started to shake uncontrollably, his eyes filling with tears. He buried his face in my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. I wrapped my arms around him, unable to believe what I was hearing. Chris threw his arms around us both, sobbing into Nick's hair. Marylou and her husband both cried silently, their faces twisted in pain.

"Can we at least see him?" Marylou asked, her voice shaking. The doctor nodded, motioning for us to follow her. Nick clung to me, as we walked down the hall. I squeezed his hand reassuringly, wishing there was something I could do to make this better.

The room was dimly lit, and machines were beeping in the background. The hospital bed was elevated, and a body lay under the thin white sheet. Nick's body went limp in my arms as he realized it was his brother. His sobs grew louder. Chris squeezed past us, falling to his knees beside the bed. He reached out and pulled the sheet back.

"What the fuck?" I gasped as I looked at the body that was under the sheet. That's not Matt, it's someone else. It was an old man's body. The room spun, and I felt like I was going to throw up. "Oh my god," I heard Chris say, his voice cracking. "Is this some kind of joke?"

Nick was still sobbing into my shoulder, oblivious to what had just happened. Marylou knelt beside the bed, her hands clutching the sheets. The doctor walked over to us, her expression grim. "We're so sorry, There's been a mix-up. We'll go find your son immediately." She turned and practically ran out of the room. Nick looked up from my shoulder, confused. "What do you mean, a mix-up?"

Chris, still staring at the body on the bed, said, "I don't understand. That's not Matt. I'm sure that this isn't even his room." He turned to the other doctor. "Who's body is that?"

The doctor paused, his face pale. "I…I don't know. The records show that he was supposed to be here, but…it's not him." He looked at us, his eyes filled with fear and regret. "I'm so sorry, we'll try to fix this"

Nick pulled away from me, his face a mix of anger and disbelief. "Fix this? How do you fix something like this?!" He pointed to the body on the bed. "That's not my fucking brother! Where is he?!"

Marylou took a deep breath and tried to calm him down. "Nick, we need to stay calm. The doctor is going to find out what happened and make sure Matt is okay. Let's just try to wait here." She squeezed his hand, but he pulled it away, pacing back and forth.

The doctor returned a short while later, her expression grave. "We've identified the body as belonging to a man named Matthew Williams. He was admitted to the hospital under a false name, and the records were somehow switched with your son's. We've notified the police, and they're investigating the situation." I stared at her, My face a mask of disbelief and horror. "I am so, so sorry for this mistake. We'll do everything we can to find your son and get this sorted out."

Nick collapsed into a chair, his head in his hands. Chris knelt beside him, trying to comfort him. Marylou looked from Nick to the doctor, her face pale. "Do you have any idea where our son might be?" she asked, her voice shaking. The doctor shook her head, her expression pained."Not yet. We'll alert all the hospitals in the area and work with the police to locate him as quickly as possible."

As the minutes turned into hours, the waiting room seemed to close in on them. Nick paced back and forth, unable to sit still. Chris tried to stay calm, but the anxiety was evident in his voice when he spoke to the doctors. Marylou sat in a chair, her face pale. The silence was broken only by the occasional sob from Nick or the beeping of the machines in the hallway.

taglist :

@mattestrella @chrisfavoritepepsi @sunsetsturniolos @littlebookworm803 @sturniozo @sturniolooooo @athaliahxoxo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ev3rgreenxtrees @nonamegirlxsturniolo @crybabycat1 @mooniethesimp31 @ducksturniolo @ifilwtmfc @pepsiimaxx @sleepysturnss @lustfulslxt @ilovemattsworld @hrt-attack @flowerxbunnie @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @secret-sturniolo @iluvmeeen @that-general-simp @swangelss @familynotfandom @fuckshitslover @styles-sturniolo @lvr-111 @opheliaofficial07 @kiarastromboli

[itssliyahhxoxo]

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐲

(𝐁𝐖𝐖𝐖𝐌)

(𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐲-you being there every single step of the way for Paige when she got her injury.

Time froze for you as you watched Paige fall down everyone rushing towards her you quickly snapped out of it when kk dragged you to Paige.

You pushed through the crowd around her what hurts you knelt down and placed her head onto your lap my knee she cried you softly touched it making Paige pull away crying even more.

Ok ok you softly said then looked to geno and shook your head tell him she wouldn’t be able to play the rest of the game everyone help her up and sat her down a medic ran towards you too and took a look at her Paige not letting go of your hand.

It looks like you tore your ACL but I could be wrong it would be best for you to got to the hospital to be sure the medic told Paige she nodded and the medic walked away not before giving you and Paige a small smile.

There was nothing anyone could do so the game started again but this time everyone favorite player wasn’t with her team on the court you stood in front of her her arms wrapped around you waist as she cried into your stomach.

You softly held her letting her cry she then looked up too you what if i can’t play anymore she cried you felt tears fill your eyes.

You knew how much Basketball was her everything to you if she won so did she all she would talk about when you to were kids was about basketball and how how she was gonna be a star so seeing her like this broke you.

You pulled her closer as you started softly crying along with her.

You Paige along with her mom and dad were with you two at the hospital when the doctor confirmed the she had tore her ACL and that she needed surgery that made you a little nervous the surgery took a couple of hours by that time Paige’s parents had went to get some food leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The door was opened and Paige’s surgeon walked In along with Paige she did good but just to worn you she still a little high due to the drugs she told you as you walked towards Paige’s bed and held her hand.

You smiled thanking her as she left you too alone Paige slowly opened her eyes with a sigh she looked around when her eyes landed on you she moved her hand away from yours wh-who are you she mumbled moving away.

You tilted your head softly smiling who do you think I don’t know but you should leave because when my wifey gets here she’s not gonna like that your here she mumbled.

Wifey huh so your married you chuckled she softly smiled closing her eyes yep.

Well I don’t see a ring on your finger you said taking her hand back in yours her eyes shot open not yet but one day all you could do was smile you sound in love you asked sitting next to her I am she smiled have you ever been in love she looked at you.

I am you looked into her eyes widened who she gasped making you laugh..you you whispered her eyes widened really.

You nodded laughing I-I don’t even know you she mumbled dose the name Leah ring a bell you asked smiling.

Her eyes widened once again and rushed up and hugged you there you are she mumbled into your shoulder you rubbed her back smiling.

You paused when you heard her snoring Paige you asked but got no answer you chucked laying her back down letting her sleep.

Don’t push yourself told Paige as you to we’re both at her physical therapy if you’re not ready then you’re not ready you laughed looking down at her as she breath heavily.

I am she closed her eyes trying to catch her breath says the one still with crutches.you laughed, sitting next to her.

Paige you have plenty of time to heal besides your spot is still gonna be there when you come back you said laying your head on her lap she looked down at you you really think so.

I know so and they would be crazy to let go of their best player you smiled she smiled down at you pulling you into a kiss your the best she mumbled into the kiss.

I know you smiled





[tortillamastersblog]

♕ No Matter What - Part 4 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: mentions of death, minor injuries and anxiety attacks

Summary: Following the fight, you run away, your mind spiraling…

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

________________________________________________

In my blind haste to get away, I bump into people which results in them spilling their drinks and shouting at me.

It’s muffled though because my ears are ringing and I have to blink rapidly to prevent the room from drifting out of focus.

I can’t faint now. Not here.

I push through my dizziness and finally make it outside where I stumble to my car. I fumble with the keys, trying to unlock it so I can at least lay down in the backseat, but my hands are shaking too much.

With a whimper I give up, my knees buckling beneath me. I have just enough sense left in me to slide down the side of the car and lean against the tire, rather than letting myself fall forward.

Coward.

The man’s voice keeps replaying in my head until it slowly but surely turns into my dad’s.

I wince and hug my knees to my chest, rocking back and forth with my eyes squeezed shut. “No, no, no, no, no.”

Numb. It’s the only way I can describe how I’m feeling. It’s the only thing I felt for the last couple of days and now I’m at my parents’ front door.

My uniform feels tight and suffocating, and I have to clench my fist to prevent myself from tugging at my collar.

Harper is next to me and she isn’t looking to be doing much better. Her face is void of any emotion and she has the sunken eyes of someone who hasn’t slept all week.

Her blonde hair is slicked back beneath her cap and tied together in a regulatory braid and her uniform, not unlike mine, is crisp and clean.

“Good evening, Sir,” Sergeant Lane says once the door opens. The way he’s standing is shielding Harper and I from view, but when he steps aside, taking off his cap, my dad’s eyes land on us.

He freezes and his face falls. My mom appears a second later, taking in the scene with furrowed eyebrows.

“Y/N, Harper?” she says, her gaze—whether it’s consciously or not—darting to the empty space next to Heather. “What’s going on? Why are you home? Where’s Noah?”

The first tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it away aggressively, but it’s only the first of many and a second later I’m sobbing. I clasp my hands over my mouth to muffle the sound and lean my head back against the tire.

“How could this happen?” my dad hollers, his voice cracking.

Harper and my mom are huddled up on the couch, crying.

I’m standing in front of the coffee table, my cap in hand, while my dad paces through the room.

“Dad, we did everything we could,” I choke out. I haven’t cried yet. I haven’t cried since I begged Noah to keep his eyes open. “I did everything I could.”

“No you didn’t!” My dad spins around and stares me down with so much hatred, I have to avert my tear-filled eyes. “You didn’t go after him, you—!“

“I couldn’t!” I interrupt with a pained cry. “We were under direct fire.”

My mom lets out a sob and buries her face in Harper’s shoulder.

“But you let him run off!” My dad fires back.

“I didn’t let him do anything,” I cry, “He disobeyed direct orders!”

“You were his superior officer!” My breath catches in my throat when I’m suddenly yanked forward by the collar of my uniform. “It was your job to keep him safe!”

I look up to find my dad baring his teeth, the vein in his forehead throbbing dangerously. When he speaks again, his voice is low and shaky. “He enlisted because he looked up to you. He did everything to impress you and get your approval, and now he’s dead because you did nothing.”

“Dad…” I whisper, the tears I’ve been holding back now dripping down my face.

My dad’s lip twitches and his grip on my collar tightens for a moment before he shoves me away. “Leave.”

Eyes widening, I straighten out my uniform and look at my mom for help, but she’s still crying into Harper’s shoulder. “Dad, please…”

“LEAVE! I DON’T EVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN,” he shouts, shoving me again.

I don’t fight back. I can’t. I look at my mom again and this time I can tell she’s purposefully not looking at me. Neither is Heather, I realize, which shatters my already broken heart.

They think it’s my fault, too.

I choke out a sob and run out of the room.

“You’re a coward, you hear me?” My dad shouts after me when I open the front door. “Coward!”

“Hey,” a soft voice rips me from the memory. My eyes snap open, and I scramble to get away, but then familiar green eyes find mine and I stop.

“It’s okay,” Lena says. She’s crouched down in front of me in her heels, a position I’m sure isn’t exactly comfortable. She reaches for my hand and I let her take it. “You’re okay.”

I gulp and clench my jaw, not attempting to hide the tears that are still running down my face. My heart is pounding in my chest and everything’s still a bit muffled, but I’m no longer on the brink of passing out.

Lena stays with me for what feels like hours, holding my hand in silence and running her thumb over my knuckles until the ringing in my ear finally stops and I feel like I can breathe normally again.

“Ms. Luthor,” I croak, my voice hoarse from crying. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I shouldn’t have—“

Lena squeezes my hand and shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. Let’s just go. I’m taking you back to my place. I can’t in good conscience leave you alone after what happened tonight.”

I want to protest, but the headache that is starting to form has me agreeing with a dejected sigh.

I pull myself up, my knees still a little weak, before helping Lena who’s struggling to get up herself because of her heels and her dress.

Without saying anything, she reaches forward and roams around in the pockets of my jacket until she finds my keys.

The proximity makes my ears tingle, but I ignore it as best as I can because it’s super inappropriate. Not only because of what just happened but because she’s my boss. My very attractive boss…Of course I’ve noticed, I’m not blind, but she’s off limits.

It’s clear that she intends on driving, so I get in the passenger seat, my body slumping against the door as soon as I’m done putting my seatbelt on.

“Wait, what about the others?” I ask when Lena starts driving. I lift my head off the window and look at her.

She glances at me for a second before focusing back on the road. “We split up to look for you when you ran off. I texted them as soon as I found you. They’re probably on their own way home.”

Relieved and, admittedly a little touched that they all went looking for me, I lean my head back against the window. My eyes however stay on Lena whose profile is on full display since her hair is in a high ponytail.

She really is beautiful, especially now because her guard is down. Her face is relaxed and so are her shoulders. Gone is the raised eyebrow and the clenched jaw.

She looks younger like this and it makes me realize just how much stress she’s under all the time.

When we come to a stop in front of her building she looks over, slightly startled that I’m already watching her.

“Are you alright?” she asks, a barely noticeable flush making its way to her cheeks.

I send her a tired smile and nod, too exhausted to respond verbally.

“Okay,” she mumbles, ducking her head shyly and opening her door.

I get out myself while she hands the keys to the building’s valet. She also slips him some money and says something which I don’t catch because I’m waiting by the door.

The elevator ride up to the apartment is silent and when we get inside I’m unsure what to do. Lena’s by my side though and leads me through her bedroom and into the bathroom where she guides me to sit on the edge of the bathtub.

I raise an eyebrow, not quite sure what she’s planning on doing but then she wets a small towel and gestures at my face. “May I?”

I look past her to see my reflection in the mirror and grimace. The blood that ran from my nose earlier is now dried and all over my mouth and chin. Some of it also got onto my shirt and jacket alongside the beer and liquor stains I acquired when I was bumping into people.

My eyes find Lena’s again and I nod, showing her that I’m okay with her cleaning my face.

She starts a little hesitant at first, but soon the hand that is not holding the towel is on my chin, directing my head every which way.

Again, the proximity is making me nervous, but I can’t help but watch her while she works. Her brows are furrowed in concentration and she bites her bottom lip every now and then.

I gulp when she wipes the last of the blood away, her face now merely a couple inches from mine because she leaned in to get a better look.

Her eyes dart up to mine and when she realized how close she is, she freezes. Her breath is shallow and her hand drops from my chin to my chest.

I don’t move. I can’t. Not when her eyes are taking in every detail of my face.

Then, as if on cue, there’s a knock at the front door.

Lena snaps out of her daze, panicking slightly, and rushes out of the room.

My shoulders fall and I take a deep breath. This has never happened before. Yes, we’ve shared some small talk and coffee here and there, but we’ve never been alone like this. We’ve never been this close.

Before my mind can go down a rabbit hole and dissect every interaction I’ve had with the young CEO, Lena returns with a plastic bag.

“What’s this?” I ask to break the tension that her return has inadvertently created.

Lena pulls what looks to be a plain grey sweatshirt and some sweatpants from the bag and hands them to me.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to be sleeping like this,” she gestured at my stained shirt which now that I’m thinking about it smells like booze.

I get up and shake my head, attempting to give the clothes back. “I really can’t take this, Ms. Luthor. You’ve done more than enough and I— I should probably go home.”

Lena looks almost disappointed, but it’s quickly replaced by determination. “No, I’m not letting you leave. I—“ she hesitates— “know what it’s like to be alone after something like tonight, so I’m not letting you go home. You can stay in my guest bedroom. ”

I really want to say no and just go home, but the pleading look she’s giving me convinces me to give in with a sigh. “Alright, thank you.”

Lena smiles softly and pushes the clothes back into my arms. “Don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do after the way you defended me tonight.”

This time it’s my turn to get all shy and squirmy. I feel my ears tingle and tighten my grip on the clothes. I could have just told the guy to keep it moving, but I did defend her to him and let’s just say that that is not something that falls within my job description.

“It was nothing,” I reply honestly.

“No,” Lena says lowly. “It was everything.”

I look up to meet her eyes again to find her already watching me with something I can’t quite place.

She takes a careful step forward, her eyes not leaving mine, and ends up placing her hand on my forearm after hesitating and not really knowing where to put it. My heartbeat soars at the contact and the skin on my arm where she’s touching me is heating up.

She squeezes softly and sends me one last smile before leaving me to change. “Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Ms. Luthor.”

________________________________________________

Again, not proofread yet but I wanted to get it out sooner rather than later.

I have an exam coming up, so I won’t be able to write as much, but I’ll try my best to keep updating this story.

Also, here you go @nuianced-tck-enby :)

[captain039]

PART 2 Tender hearted souls

Hugh Jackman x reader

Warnings: Age gap, slow burn, feelings, hurt/comfort, two fools in love, angst, light swearing, mental health issues, daddy issues, daddy!dom/little girl, plus size reader

Previous part <-

You’re up late, staring at yourself in the mirror unhealthily. You’ve got granny panties and a plain black bra that just supports and nothing else. You like your flesh, squeeze it, curse it, love it then hate it some more. Maybe you were taking your frustration out on yourself. You feel conflicted, you won’t check your phone or social media’s knowing there will be an up roar. You’re glad you decided to create fake accounts for everything after knowing Hugh so long and being seen out with him more than ten times. You lay back on the bed and sigh legs hurting from the heels. A foot massage or full leg massage sounds so good right about now. A knock comes at your door and you’re upright within two seconds getting your dressing gown and tying it around your waist. You open the door seeing Hugh and smile.

“Heading to bed?” You ask as you let him in. He always made sure you were the one to invite him in your room, he never came in unless he asked.

“In a minute, wanted to check on you” he says a crease between his brow as you hug your dressing gown closer.

“I’m fine, promise” you say still pretending, you should’ve put some proper clothes on.

“I meant what I said up there, I know it was a bit overkill saying it to the world, but” his arm lifts up and rubs the back of his neck, something he did when he was nervous or embarrassed.

“You’ve been my rock lately, my anchor, I wouldn’t have made it here, wouldn’t have made it through the movie without you” you feel like your heart breaks. You go over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, resisting the urge to cry as he wraps his arms around your mid and nuzzles his head into your neck. You want to remove yourself from all this so it doesn’t hurt as much, but his arms, his warmth keep you there, always have.

“Well good thing I’m not going anywhere” you joke softly pulling back. You force a smile as he stares at you. Your breath gets caught at the intensity, the way he always looks at his love interests in movies, that longing look. You brush it off when his phone rings and he curses apologising before leaving.

You stare at the empty space a sigh leaving your lips before you close your door again softly and lie down in your robe, grabbing your phone. You check the news, social media, the hot gossip. Different questions a million answers on who you were, how special you were, why were you special, how Hugh knew you, why you weren’t mentioned before. It’s an endless doom scroll and you switch your phone off and almost throw it at the wall. Your phone buzzes though and you see your mums name pop up. She asks how the premier went, even though she probably read or saw the news somewhere. You tell her it went good, trying to avoid what happened. You say goodnight to her and listen to Hugh’s distant voice on the phone before closing your eyes.

You awake with a small groan, having had a horrible sleep of tossing and turning, not comfortable enough, feeling a little nausea. You want to sleep in more but your bladder demands release so you get up. You use the toilet before washing your hands and grabbing a shirt in the cupboard. You throw it on and find some pants to throw on too before heading into the kitchen. You know Hugh’s either on his run or in the home gym doing stupid gym things. They’re not stupid, you just don’t like doing them and watching Hugh just makes you more tired and a little horny than anything. You grab some cereal and milk before pouring each one into a bowl and sitting on the couch, legs crossed and half asleep. You miss your mouth the first time you try to eat and fake sob a little dramatically before getting it right. You check your phone, check the games you play on there before messaging your mum and dad good morning.

“Morning sunshine” Hugh’s voice rings out and you grumble in response to it. He chuckles a little sitting down in one of the single seats. He’s got his gym clothes on, baggy grey sweats and a grey singlet, a towel around his neck, some gross looking green smoothie in his hand. You gag at it as he takes a sip seeing him grin in response.

“It’ll wake you up, and it tastes good” he says and you raise an eyebrow.

“And I’d rather die” you state, your filter gone when you first wake up. You get a message from Blake asking how you are and you text her back saying you’re fine but a little tired. You’re supposed to go over there house for dinner tonight, a little celebration dinner for yesterday.

“Blake’s dinner is at six yeah?” You ask forgetting already.

“Yeah at six” Hugh confirms and you nod.

“Do I need a makeup artist for it?” You tease lightly.

“No, you do your makeup just fine” he says and you roll your eyes lightly his mind still in training mode.

“Yeah, yeah old man” you mumble.

“Who you calling old?” He’s got a cheeky look on his eye as he looks to you.

“Oh I don’t dunno, first name Hugh last name old man” you grin seeing his fake serious actor face.

“Oh really?” He says standing up and you can’t help but grin wider.

“I dunno Bub, I reckon I’ve got more game than you” he’s got his wolverine voice on as he comes closer. Your heart rate rises as he stalks to you while your grin falters.

“Nuh uh old man” you say as he’s suddenly on you tickling your sides. You’re glad you put the bowl down before you insulted him. You squeal and laugh trying to fight him off as you end up sideways on the couch him torturing you with his finger tips at your sides.

“Stop!” You say breathlessly as he continues relentlessly.

“Hugh! Ok! You’re not an old man” you whine and laugh out again.

“Begging for forgiveness already?” He’s grinning keeping his torture up as you squirm every which way.

“Stop! Stop! I swear, I’m sorry” you giggle in a fit as he finally stops. You let out quick breaths and laugh as he leans over you panting lightly also. You let out a small giggle wanting to tease some more but his smile falters a little eyes looking over your face.

“What?” You ask touching your fingers to your face.

“Breakfast?” You ask wondering why he’s staring at you. He’s closer now, you didn’t notice it but he’s inches away.

“Hugh?” You mutter cheeks hotter than before as he blinks.

“Sorry” he says getting up quickly and walks away down the hall to his room leaving you confused. You frown wondering if you did something, he always took your insults and teasing well and threw them back. You rest a hand on your chest catching your breath and trying to ignore how fast your hearts pounding. 

Next part ->

[to-thelakes]

i wanna listen (lip gallagher x reader)

content warning(s); mentions of blood, descriptions of wound care, hints of angst, angry!lip

summary; when lip finds out karen fucked frank, he finds his way to your door. he needed you to tell him it was okay.

series masterlist

lip beating the shit out of frank?? HOT but this man needed comforting. so here is another installment of my lip comfort series bc i want to wrap him up in bubble wrap and kiss his forehead

“He fucked her!” The sound of the front door slamming startled you. Your parents weren’t home, you had told Lip that earlier that day. You had been hoping to see him. You had only managed to briefly see him after he had gotten out of fucking jail and here he was, angry. You were confused.

“Lip? What’s going on?” You abandoned your peanut butter and jelly sandwich you had been halfway through making to move through the house towards him. He was seeing red, you could tell and his knuckles were bloody, a cut on his forehead. He looked angry, he looked upset, “Lip, baby.” The nickname rolled off your tongue with ease. It was reserved for moments like this.

“She fucked him!” He shouted, his rage not really directed at you. He sounded broken, his scarf wrapped haphazardly around him. You didn’t understand. He must have been talking about Karen. That was easy to tell but who?

Ian. No that didn’t seem likely. Ian was with Mandy as far as you knew and seemed uninterested in anyone else.

Kev? No that wouldn’t ever happen. 

Which only left one other man in Lip’s life that could make him this upset. His dad.

“Your dad?” You asked, eyes widening. He nodded, pacing back and forth. His hands were clenching and unclenching continuously, fingers running through his hair. You didn’t know what to say or what to do or how to approach this. 

What the fuck was going on?

“Can I look at your face?” You asked, approaching him cautiously. He would never lay a hand on you, never dare, you knew that but the anxious feeling still sat heavy in your stomach. You were mainly worried about him, what he would do to himself or someone else. Lip was self-loathing at his best.

“I fuckin’ hate him,” Lip stated as he stopped his pacing. You approached and gently pushed some hair out of his face. The cut didn’t look awful but it was still trickling blood. You frowned and took a hold of his hand.

“Can I take care of these?” You asked, eyes lingering on the wounds. Lip shrugged, breaking away from your hold. He had to keep moving, he wanted to hit something. You frowned, looking up at him. What were you supposed to say to that? How could you even make it better? You couldn’t, “Lip, come here,” You said softly, stepping towards him. You placed a hand on his bicep, gently pulling him to a stop.

His eyes had gotten glassy, words stuck in his throat and anger coursing through his veins but he didn’t know what to do with it. Beating his own dad up hadn’t made him feel any better. He didn’t know what to do.

“Come here,” You whispered and pulled him into a hug. You let his head bury into your neck as you held onto him tightly. He was squeezing you so tight, a vice grip and it was a little painful but you didn’t say anything. He needed an outlet and then the tears started. It was always like this.

You were convinced that if you weren’t there, he wouldn’t ever cry. He kept everything in until you were right in front of him. You were sure of that.

“Let it out, baby, it’s okay,” You whispered as you rested your head against his. He just cried, you didn’t know what to do, didn’t know what to say. His dad was an asshole. He always had been and you had watched as Lip fell in love with Karen day-after-day. Yeah, it was painful to watch but you couldn’t blame him.

She liked him, he liked her. He was a whore, so was she. It worked. It still hurt though. Not that you ever told him.

No, you weren’t ever gonna do that.

Just like your whispered ‘I love you’s, the pain was something just for you. Yours alone to bear.

After a little while, his tears subsided and you coaxed him to the couch. He took the seat first, discarding his scarf as he scrubbed away the tears from his cheeks. You let him, grabbing a tissue from the tissuebox before you sat in his lap, his hands rested on your thighs.

You used the tissue to mop up any residual tears before you wiped his snotty nose. He avoided your gaze the whole time, embarrassed. 

Once you were done, you balled it up and turned around to place it on the coffee table. Lip’s hands instinctively came up to your waist, keeping you stable. But based on the pained hiss he let out when he did, you were sure he’d bruised his hand. It probably wasn’t broken but it was definitely sprained at least.

The damage to his upper eyebrow was easier to heal even if he’d hate it all the same. Despite his exterior, Lip hated getting his wounds cleared. He hated the peroxide. The smell, the sting, the feel but he’d usually  just kept his hand on your hip and his focus on anything but the incoming sting.

And he followed the same pattern once you’d returned to his lap with a first aid kit in hand. You unzipped it, pulling out everything you thought you’d need to make it better, to make him feel better.

“Can you talk? I wanna listen,” Lip said after too long of a silence. You nodded, trying to grasp at anything to talk to him about. You weren’t sure what would piss him off. You didn’t know what to talk about. You didn’t want to frustrate him more so you decided to just talk about your parents. He liked your parents. They were better than his.

“Was talking to my mom the other day about you, she thinks we’re dating. I don’t know why. Well, I do, you stay for dinner more than anyone else and you’re always here when they’re home from work. But I told her we weren’t,” You explained as you placed the peroxide, cotton buds and antiseptic cream on the couch beside your two bodies, “She doesn’t believe it. My dad doesn’t seem to really care either way. 

“You know, I told him about the whole jail sentence threat and he called you a ‘good kid’. I mean, considering he works for some dumb fucking corporate overlords, he’s not really into the whole goody-two-shoes shit,” You were rambling, desperate to keep Lip’s mind distracted as you dipped a cotton bud into the peroxide solution. You then used it to clean up the edges of his cut. A soft hiss escaped his lips but you kept talking, as requested;

“I think he likes you and my dad doesn’t really like anyone. Oh and you know I’ve been looking at colleges. I know we still have another year or whatever but I was thinking about what literature programme to do. I know it’s a useless degree but I think it’d be nice. Or maybe some teaching or some shit. Like Miss Rosenthal that taught us in Freshman year. I think being like her would be nice, y’know.”

Lip just listened, feeling soothed by your rambling words and the wound on his forehead didn’t feel so painful now. He felt you gently dab antiseptic cream across it before you used some butterfly stitches to keep the wound closed.

“Think you should go for it,” Lip muttered. You smiled down at him, that pretty smile that he loved. 

“Yeah, we’ll see. Depends how well Senior goes,” You shrugged as you grabbed the first-aid kit again. “How’s your hand?” You asked as you shuffled back so you could lift it up to your face. He hissed out. There was obvious bruising and cuts on his knuckles from pummelling Frank. It seemed sore but hopefully fine.

“Feels broken,” He admitted. You scoffed.

“Dramatic,” You teased. He rolled his eyes and you grabbed an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit. You tore it open, “Last thing and then you can go home,” You muttered as you unravelled the wipe. You then gently wiped away the blood from his knuckles. They didn’t need much tending other than the wipe and some cream. Lip had survived worse.

Once you were done, you climbed off his lap and grabbed all the trash together before putting everything you didn’t use back into the kit. You then walked back to the kitchen, dumping the kit under the sink and getting rid of the trash.

“Need to go home,” Lip said as you walked back into the living room. You nodded. You knew he needed to. Probably had shit to do and so you just let him. You stayed in the doorway, not wanting to get too close in case you begged him to stay. You hated when he left, “I’ll give you a call,” He added. You nodded.

“Yeah, I’m always here,” You nodded. He smiled tentatively before he disappeared out of the front door.

You sighed.

You hated this.

[ax-y10]

promise

in which; wilbur comes home late and exhausted and brushes past his daughter

about; dad!bur au, so many different perspectives, angst to fluff, i wrote this in two hours very late at night so it's not the best, kisses, fighting, crying, wilbur being bad bad, wilbur ignoring your daughter, swearing, happy ending yayay, gender neutral, i think y/n is used once, anything along these lines

word count; 1.7k

taglist; @phxntomsdusk, @pheliiaa (ask to be added)

you heard the front door creak open, and you sent your daughter down to greet him. you stayed in her room, however, overthinking.

he was home late again from the studio, writing and figuring out songs for the new album. he was working hard, but was starting to forget about who lay at home, waiting for him.

you and your daughter made good use of time during the day when he wasn’t there. making little animals out of playdoh, making dinner for wilbur when he got home, or making silly stories with each other. however, it didn’t feel right.

it didn’t feel like when wilbur had promised to spend every waking moment with you and your daughter. he had promised that if it came to it, he would give up lovejoy, give up streaming, give up everything, to spend all of eternity with you both. but now, he wasn’t keeping the promise fulfilled.

you were cut off by the urgent footsteps of your daughter, and a very teary-eyed girl standing in the doorway. scooping her up, you cradle her against your chest and swing her back and forth, trying to cheer her up.

eventually, you had to break her walls and ask what was wrong.

“what happened? why’re you upset?”

“daddy…”

she was cut off by a loud sob erupting from her throat. she was just so heartbroken

“what did daddy do, sweetheart? do i need to go talk to him?”

it was a great effort trying to get a reason out in between her sobs and shaky breaths, but eventually, she got something out.

“daddy- he- he walked past me. i said hello and tried to hug him, but- but he- he didn’t say hello back. i offered the cupcakes and his- his dinner to him, but he just walked into his room. he just ‘hmphed’ and… ignored me.”

you were heartbroken by this point. he had left his daughter in tears, and his lover heartbroken, but you couldn’t keep sulking with your daughter.

cut to now. you were standing in your shared room with wilbur, arguing back and forth. stupid arguments spewed from his mouth, and sounds of disbelief spewed from yours. you were frustrated from his pure ignorance and bullshit excuses.

“i’m tired! do you not see that! you have to realise i don’t have all the time in the world to be with the people i love most! for fucks sake, you give no one a break, do you!”

each word spilled from his mouth shattered your heart. he didn’t understand.

“all you are worried about is me! all you are worried about is our daughter! all you are worried about is the little stupid things that do not need to have your mind occupied!”

he shouted more and more silly things, clearly not realising what he was saying.

“but that’s what we’re meant to be worried abou-“

“i don’t care! you need to stop! you need to calm the fuck down, sit the fuck down, and stop worrying. i get it, our daughter is very much upset, but im here, and im tired!”

why was he worried about himself?

“you quite simply ignored our daughter as soon as you opened that door! she offered everything her little mind could think of! the cupcakes we made today, the dinner we made for you, she said hello and tried to hug you and you walked past her, groaned, and ignored her! you’ve left her in tears in her bedroom, absolutely heartbroken, because of you! are you fucking brain dead, wilbur!”

he wasn’t going to deny that your words hurt him more than his hurt you. he was only just realising how much he was away from you and his daughter. how much time was spent without the smiling faces of the little love bugs that he leaves at home each day. he didn’t know what had gotten into hi-

“what happened to ‘i’ll give up everything. i’ll give up lovejoy, streaming, ill give up everything, to spend all of eternity with you’! you aren’t here anymore! you’re either not at home or you’re off with the fairies! what happened to us! are we not important! what happened to your family, wilbur! you must be fucking stupid, you bastard!”

that was the last thing he needed before he fell onto the bed and let the floodgates open. he hadn’t realised how much time he had spent away from you both. he was always worried about the release date of the next ep, or always occupied by something else. it must have been months since he truly recognised the warm smile of his daughter or the honey-sweet laugh of you. he didn’t realise that he was slipping down the same rabbit hole every one he knew was falling down. he needed to be present.

you were both fuming. you were pissed and he was frustrated.

it took him a good five minutes to register that you were gone. that you hadn’t offered him a hug, or a kiss, or even something as simple as a head rub. you had just walked off…

he immediately stood up and almost ran to his daughters room. he looked everywhere. you weren’t in there. you weren’t in the guest room, or the lounge room, or the bathroom, or even the kitchen. you were literally gone.

he was about to break down again, lose himself to panic, until the soft, wet laughs from his daughter reached his ears.

he found you both outside, your daughter laying in the grass, you tickling her. she had dried tear tracks on her face and red puffy eyes, you with the same. god she looked like you-

until the day he dies, he will never believe that your daughter looks like him. she has your hair, your eyes, your nose, your mouth. she has your beauty.

he sat down next to you after your daughter saw him and her smile dropped. he’d done so wrong-

“can i apologi-“

“wilbur go inside.”

“darling, plea-“

“wilbur.”

he stood once again and stepped inside. he grabbed his dinner and sat at the kitchen island. he let his eyes roam over every photo of you, of your daughter, of you and your daughter, of him and your daughter, of all of you-

he ate his dinner before it went cold, the small bowl of mac n’ cheese and mashed potato swallowed down before he trudged back to your shared room. he laid down and fell asleep almost instantly. he didn’t want the guilt to set in and ruin anything else.

meanwhile, you and your daughter were still laughing and rolling around in the grass. just before wilbur came out wanting to apologise, you had just calmed her down from her sobs and cries. she had voiced so many small sentences that were so incomprehensible, the sentence that you did catch was so heart-wrenching, you started crying again.

“do you and daddy still love me?”

you sobbed and endured shaky breaths but you got through it just for her.

“yes, of course, pumpkin. please don’t ever think we don’t love you.”

a shower and fresh set of pyjamas later, your daughter was asleep in her room, and you were pacing the lounge room, figuring out what to do.

do you sleep on the couch? do you sleep with wilbur? do you sleep in your daughters room? you simply didn’t know.

settling for your shared bedroom, you make your way to where wilbur was fast asleep, small breaths moving the curls on his head and the slight twitch in his arm from where you were absent.

you crawl under the sheets behind him, ignoring the slight hiccup in his sleep, and falling asleep with your head buried in his sleep shirt. the faint scent of cologne and rain luring you into sleep.

you woke to wilbur’s calloused fingers running across your face and through your hair, and finding rest on your shoulders. his slight bed head and tired face making him even prettier than usual. he’ll always dent that he looks pretty in the mornings, claiming that he looks weird with his messy hair or that his breath stinks, but everything is always brushed off with a wide smile from you and a kiss placed under his eye.

but as soon as the warm feeling came, it was pulled away as soon as he realised you had woken up. he thought that you were still angry at him, that you would get angry at him for being so close to you after last night. but he was surprised when he felt you move and pull his hand back to you face.

he continued his small gestures across your face, staring at your sleepy face maybe just a little longer than he should be, considering how horrible of a person he was last night. how absolutely self-centred he was, how he ignored your daughte-

“stop worrying, wil. i’m not angry.”

“i’m so sorry, for last nigh-”

“sweet, don’t apologise right now.”

“just let me, please?”

when he was met with a small nod, he continued.

“i’m so so so sorry about last night. i don’t know what had gotten in to me that made me ignore the two most beautiful things i call mine, but i feel absolutely horrible. i should not have said anything that i said. i shouldn’t have been so self-centred, i shouldn’t have ignored our daughter, i shouldn’t have argued with you. i’m sorry. i really am. and im sorry for not sticking by that promise. i promise that you and our daughter are going to be my number one priority from here on out. i love you.”

he finished his apology with a kiss to your forehead, to your nose, and finally to your lips. he threaded his hands back into your hair, and pulled off his shirt and gave it to you to keep you warm.

soon, your little ball of happiness walked into the room, laughing at the sight of you in wilbur’s shirt and him tickling you. you all calmed down eventually, and let your daughter climb into bed with both of you.

wilbur immediately smothered her in tight hugs and ticklish kisses pressed against her face. he apologised to her for ignoring her and made sure that she believed him before he dropped the subject.

you all spent the entire day doing things together. making playdoh animals, with wilbur. making dinner, with wilbur. making up silly stories, with wilbur. he was included in everything you did.

[simplydannie]

Previous: “It Was An Accident” || Vaughn Montegue

TRIGGER WARNING ‼️ Mention of deceased and g*ns

Cover art by the amazing @djpixelskitten 🫶 Story inspired by my friend @jules0511 when she said about doing a story where their dad finds out one of them died….What if he found out both died?

An accident leaves both twins deceased. Floyd only gazes at the wreckage. A familiar face of the twins past reappears…Angered, broken, enraged about their death, their father promises only one thing: revenge on the one who is responsible….and his eyes are glued the Mistress

Floyd leaned his forehead against the wall of the diamond he was encased in. He saw the medics arrive, he saw them remove the twins bodies from the wreckage….he saw them being placed in body bags

“…Oh god….” He fell to his knees as he allowed the tears to flow. Floyd’s body shivered with every cry, he hugged himself hoping it would comfort him…but it didn’t, how could comfort come from this? He lost both of them….BOTH of them.

“Floyd?” He heard Branch call his name, but he didn’t have the strength to turn, he didn’t have the strength to respond. Branch and his brothers gazed at each other as they witnessed their brother’s heartbreak.

“Did you know?” Branch heard Poppy’s voice. He turned and faced her.

“Did I know what?”

“…How much they meant to him?” She asked.

“I didn’t….I had no idea…”

“…The kid tried. He tried to admit everything right then and there as he was driving. His sister though….she had a look in her eyes…it wasn’t…it wasn’t natural…” Bruce added remembering the exact moments before the accident.

A few moments of silence passed….

“…..It wasn’t normal….” Floyd finally responded, “It was poison. She was poisoned because of me…All the essence they used of me…Something changed in them….They weren’t the kids I had come to know..”

All the Trolls fell silent as they were approached by male Rageon, a security.

“You must be the little guys Veneer was talking about.” He said.

“What do you mean?”

“We all saw the live feed….right before the crash.” He leaned over and opened the diamonds that held each and every one of the brothers, “I’m sorry. We didn’t know what they were doing. The twins don’t act or speak for the rest of Mount Rageous. I’m sorry we didn’t realize what was happening sooner.”

“It wasn’t them!” Floyd called out.

“Veneer just admitted- “ The cop began to say.

“I know what he said, but it wasn’t them! They were groomed, tricked, used!” Floyd cried out.

“By who?”

“Someone named Mistress.”

“What’s her real name?”

“I….I don’t know…”

“What corporation does she work for?”

“……I don’t know…..”

“….Do you have any evidence?”

“……no…..”

The security saw the disappointment cross the Trolls face, he let out a sigh. He went and grabbed each of the diamonds the Trolls had been placed in…

“Wait!” Floyd called out, “Those diamonds! They’re evidence.”

“The twins had the diamonds…”

“Yes! But she gave them the diamonds! It’s, just trust me.”

“Listen,” the security said, “I want to help you I really do. If you could somehow give us evidence of this woman, then we will be more than happy to help you. But without solid evidence, there’s not much we can do… I’m sorry.” The security took the diamonds with him. Floyd saw as the medics began moving the body bags and placing them on a stretcher.

“Wait….WAIT!” Floyd ran towards them. Branch reached out to take hold of his brother.

“Floyd no. It’ll be to painful.”

Floyd continued to struggled against this brother…One by one each came to hold him back, to soothe him with words.

“I just need to see them one last time please!” He cried.

“…Not like this bro, not like this.” John Dory replied, a tear falling down his face. Floyd kicked and screamed, trying to escape, trying to run towards the twins as they lay inside the body bags. The medics heard the cries of the small Troll and hesitated before beginning to lift the stretcher…..

….That’s when the sound of a vehicle was heard coming down from the highway, its engine and tires echoing within the walls…

“What the hell?” An officer said, “No one else should have clearance.”

The black vehicle came to a screeching halt, the front door opening…That’s when Floyd saw the figure getting off the car, recognizing him immediately: black vest, with a button up, white, rolled up shirt at the bottom, black pants, the same pale skin, except he had dark green hair slicked back, and bright piercing blue eyes. If you didn’t know him you thought you would be looking at….

“Veneer?” Branches words escaped in a gasp….but then he realized it wasn’t Veneer. This Rageon was older, and adult, he could tell by the eyes…

“No. That’s Vaughn.” Floyd said, “Their father.”

Vaughn’s eyes darted around the wreckage. Closing his door, he began to walk slowly, taking in everything. He saw the live feed, the footage right before the screen exploded and went black…That’s when he knew. He noticed blood in one area, and blood in another…

“Sir. You cannot be here. This is a….” The cops words were cut off as Vaughn pulled out a hand gun, pointing it straight between his eyes. The other Rageons jumped…guns. They weren’t normal in Mount Rageous, but definitely not unheard of. The Trolls gasped at the sight…they waited to see if he would pull the trigger… The cop swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Where are they?” Were the words Vaughn spoke.

“W-who?” The cop stammered.

“….The boy and the girl in the wreckage. Where are they?” He demanded again, “I am not patient. So don’t test me.” The hand gun clicked as he loaded it ready for fire.

“O-over there! The two involved in the wreckage are over there!” The cop exclaimed. Vaughn followed the cops hand…His gaze falling upon two black body bags loaded onto a stretcher.

Vaughns lips parted as a small gasp escaped them. He grabbed the cop from the collar and shoved him out of his way. Vaughn quickly made his way towards the bags until he caught sight of something….something small….the Troll. He paused in his steps.

“….You….” He spat as he looked at Floyd, “You little rat….” Taking out his gun again he was about to make his way to kill the Troll when he saw the medics moving the body bags once again. “DONT YOU DARE!” He shot into the air, then pointed the gun towards the medics.

“Don’t you dare touch them. Don’t you dare move them.” He neared the medics as they held their hands up in surrender, “Open them.” Vaughn demanded.

“…but sir…”

“I SAID OPEN THEM DAMMIT!”

With a small hesitation the medic bent over and unzipped the body bags…one by one….and there they were…

Vaughn felt his knees buckle. He clicked the gun again, “Get back……I SAID GET BACK!” He demanded as the medics retreated.

After moments, his arm fell to his side…the gun landing on the floor with a soft thud. He walked up slowly and kneeled down in between each of the twins. Vaughn saw the damage the crash had done…scratches and bruises stained their skin…but even then, they looked peaceful…they looked as if they were sleeping. He reached over and tucked a piece of hair behind Velvet’s ear. She truly resembled her mother, but with his fiery spirit. Vaughn then reached and brushed the hair out of Veneer’s closed eyes…his boy. He hoped that at any moment they would open their eyes, that they would sit up….He wished that this was just a bad dream.

A lump formed in his throat as the anger and hurt swelled in his heart…

Floyd saw this and began to near him.

“Floyd no.” John Dory reached out, but Floyd shoved him away. The small Troll neared the Rageon. As if sensing his presence Vaughn spoke…

“Why did you take them from me?” He asked, a coldness in is voice.

“…I didn’t.”

“DONT LIE TO ME!” The Rageon spat.

“Vaughn….I would never take them away from you…..You pushed them away.” Floyd said.

“…I did everything for them. Provided for them..”

“You did everything for them…except be the father they needed you to be...” Floyd said, “…I tried to keep them from running away. But they wouldn’t listen. They would’ve run away with or without me. I didn’t want them being alone in that god-forsaken under-city.”

“….Then why didn’t you tell me…Why didn’t come and tell me what they were planning.”

“…You were dealing Trolls Vaughn. You would have caught me the second i had showed my face… Besides, wouldn’t you have believed a Troll telling you your children wanted to run away would you?…” Floyd got nearer, and nearer. He walked up in between each of the twins. Out stretching his hands, he touched their cold cheeks. He then looked up towards their father…seeing that tears finally fell down his face. The Troll noticed, that with no one watching, he allowed himself to be vulnerable…But Floyd was there, he was watching…Why then did Vaughn allow himself to be vulnerable around him? Was it because he didn’t see him as much of a threat?… Or maybe, Vaughn knew who he could trust afterall….

“…..Just know….I loved them.” Floyd finally said.

“….How could you not have loved them…” Was all Vaughn responded. He reached his arms and grasped each twin in each of his hands. He gently placed his hands behind their limp heads and pulled them near his chest…Their bodies were cold…So, so cold. As Vaughn held them a memory came to him his mind. A memory from a time where things were simple, when he thought he could be happy… when he thought that he could actually have a family…

…They were so small, yet, so precious. The twins were placed in each of his arms. He looked down at them, swaddled deep in blankets, everything about them was tiny…their eyes, their nose, their tiny lips…He looked up at his wife, Vivian. She rested her head against the pillow. Even after those tedious hours of labor and just birthing their babies, she was still as radiant and beautiful as always. A smile was on her face as she gazed upon him.

“Why are you smiling?” He had asked her.

“I just love the sight of a father, meeting and embracing his children for the first time.”

And now here he was….embracing them for the last time. He gently leaned them back…rage coursing his veins once again. Floyd noticed something in Vaughns eyes that he had seen before, something he had seen in Velvet…The pink hue shining through…

“….Where is she?” Vaughn asked.

“W-who?” Floyd grew nervous.

“That snake….That vile woman who took them from me….The one who did this to them… WHERE. IS. SHE.” Vaughn demanded.

“…She’s cunning…She’s probably laying low for now…And she’s probably watching.” Floyd replied.

Vaughn looked up, his eyes falling upon a camera at the corner of the tunnel. A smirk came across his face, his eyes still glowing, his tone vile and menacing.…

“Then if she’s watching….She’ll know I am coming for her….and I will END her.”

[cigarettestress]

Summary: Taylor celebrates her quncieñera, a big party for Latinas when they turn 15 but remembering who she lost spoils the mood.

Author's notes: PERHAPS LISTEN TO AMOR ETERNO BY ROCÍO DÚRCAL WHILE READING, based on those really sad quince videos I always see. The meaning of this song being watered down to losing a lover and not her losing her son is my thirteenth reason why.Fuck it we die like Tyler 🗣️

Amor eterno

The day was joyful before Taylor laid her eyes on the picture In Front of her. She felt gorgeous in every aspect, her dress was everything she dreamed of and more, her venue was decorated just like the images from her Pinterest board she made all those years ago she so happily name “quince ideas”, her friends there to enjoy this milestone in her life, even Ashlyn was enjoying herself, she did have to keep her headphones on the entire time due to the noise, but she enjoyed herself regardless. It felt perfect all the way through and she couldn't feel more grateful to her friends (more specially Aiden and his parents for making her quncieñera possible.) But her mood was ruined when she was called up to do her father daughter dance.

One of the most important events of the night and that's when she finally got nervous. Her hands shook ever so slightly but Taylor swore she'll be brave. Her mom gave her a gift while looking at her with a sorrowful look. It reminded Taylor of how she looked before her mother started getting better, being present in their lives. It was covered by Sage green wrapping paper, just like her dress. The gift itself was obvious just by the looking at the shape, she's seen it a million times before but this feels too real. The music starts playing the moment she starts tearing the wrapping paper off to reveal a picture of Taylor and her father when he was still alive. It was the last photo taken before he died as well. Just looking at the photo made her tear up but she tried to continue.

She held the photo in her arms, slowly turning around while swaying. She couldn't hear anything else around her, only the sound of her thoughts telling her not to cry but she just couldn't hold it any longer and felt her knees go weak, falling to the ground. She let go of the framed photo letting it fall to her knees, while she held her face in her hands as she began to cry, thinking of what could have been if her father lived. While Taylor hadn't noticed or cared about the people watching her they all showed clear sympathy for the girl but none knew exactly what to do. None except Tyler.

He got up from his seat as fast as he could to go hug the girl crying on the ground. Taylor hadn't realized this until she felt his arms around her quickly looking up. Once she recognized who it was Tyler slowly pulled her back up onto her feet, placing the photo gently to the side. This time he put her hand on his shoulder and her other hand holding his, dancing with her in place of their father. Upon this realization Taylor pulled Tyler into a hug, arms now around his shoulders instead. What Taylor couldn't see was her brother also shedding tears of his own while holding onto her and staring at the photo of her and their dad that lay on the floor behind them. Taylor spoke barely above a whisper with the loud sound of the music but Tyler still heard it,

“thank you, for everything”