#asking for HELP! not for you to NOT help me and simply say ‘yeah DAD needs to help..!’

[werebutch]

This is backwards I know but the thing that almost pisses me off more than nobody doing anything in this house is when my sister miraculously like.. goes shopping by herself or does the dishes. And she’s like, omg, I had SUCH a long day 🙄 I did blah blah blah… now I know how you feel..

…….. 🤦 sorry. I’d almost rather her do nothing than say this stuff. Yep you went shopping (she went shopping after I had already gone shopping today btw ?) and now suddenly you’re doing just as much as me Ok this is very middle child of you I understand. It’s in your nature but answer truthfully Are you stupid

[purplelea]

.

[jungwnies]

f1 grid (1/2) | pranking the parents

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc (click here for part two) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by 🫐) : when you prank your boyfriend’s mom or sister, he plays along a little too well...will they take your side?

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : word count : 1208

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : im running out of pics to use for the banner omfg

ʚ・max verstappen

spending time with max and his sister, victoria, was always entertaining.

the three of you were lounging in the verstappen living room, a race playing faintly in the background while max scrolled through his phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table.

you stretched dramatically, looking over at him. “babe, can you grab me some water from the kitchen?”

max didn’t even glance up, completely deadpan as he muttered—

“do i look like your assistant?”

silence.

you barely had time to process what happened next.

victoria’s head snapped toward max so fast, you swore she almost gave herself whiplash.

her eyebrows shot up, pure disbelief etched across her face.

“max, what the hell? be nice.”

max, still committed to the bit, shrugged. “what? she can walk.”

victoria’s expression darkened.

and before max could react, a pillow came flying across the room, smacking him directly in the face.

you gasped, quickly covering your mouth to hold back laughter.

max blinked, stunned, the pillow still resting in his lap. “did you just—”

victoria crossed her arms, unimpressed. “go help her before i make you regret it.”

max groaned, dragging himself off the couch like it was the biggest inconvenience of his life. “fine. but i want it on record that i was forced.”

you smirked as he trudged toward the kitchen, victoria shaking her head in pure disappointment.

“you put up with that?” she asked, exasperated.

you grinned. “eh, he’s useful sometimes.”

from the kitchen, max’s voice rang out. “i heard that.”

ʚ・lewis hamilton

family dinners with the hamiltons were always a warm affair, good food, laughter, and anthony hamilton’s unmatched ability to tell stories that had everyone hooked.

you nudged lewis gently. “babe, can you grab me a drink from the fridge?”

without missing a beat, he shrugged lazily, not even looking up from his plate.

“you have legs, don't you?”

the table fell silent.

lewis barely registered the shift in energy before his dad, anthony hamilton himself, slowly turned to him.

“lewis carl davidson hamilton.”

lewis froze mid-bite. oh, no.

anthony placed his fork down with a deliberate slowness that made the whole moment so much worse.

“what did you just say to y/n? ‘she has legs?’ well, so do you, be a gentleman!”

your hand was clamped over your mouth, trying so hard not to laugh.

lewis, already feeling the heat, looked around for an escape route. “dad, it’s a joke—”

anthony didn’t let him finish.

“no, what’s a joke is me raising a son who forgets his manners.”

at that moment, lewis knew he had lost.

sighing dramatically, he pushed back his chair, already getting up. “alright, alright, i’m going!”

anthony nodded approvingly, taking a sip of his drink. “that’s more like it.”

as lewis disappeared into the kitchen, you exchanged a knowing glance with his dad, who simply smirked.

“give him a hard time, yeah?” anthony murmured, and you grinned.

“oh, always.”

ʚ・george russell

you reached for the sugar but stopped just short, looking at george. “babe, can you pass me the sugar?”

george barely glanced up from his tea, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

“what, are your hands broken?”

silence.

dramatic, suffocating, judgmental silence.

then—a sharp gasp.

“george william russell!”

george physically flinched.

his mother had set her teacup down with force, staring at him like he had just committed high treason against the british monarchy.

he looked between you and his mum, instantly regretting everything.

“mum, it’s not that serious,” he tried, hands slightly raised in defense.

alison placed a hand over her chest, shaking her head in pure disappointment.

“it is very serious. where did i go wrong with you?”

you were seconds away from losing it, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

finally, you cracked, giggling as you waved your hands in surrender.

“it’s a prank!” you admitted, barely able to get the words out.

george sighed in relief, running a hand through his hair. “bloody hell, you nearly got me disowned.”

alison, however, was unfazed, lifting her tea to her lips as she shook her head.

“y/n, you could do so much better.”

george nearly spilled his tea.

“mu—are you serious?!”

you grinned, winking at alison.

“maybe.”

ʚ・carlos sainz

reyes sainz effortlessly kept everyone in check without even raising her voice.

which is exactly why you knew this prank would be perfect.

the family was gathered around the table, laughter and conversation flowing easily as you reached for your glass.

you turned to carlos, your voice sweet. “cariño, can you grab me a napkin?”

carlos, not even looking up from his plate, shrugged.

“get it yourself.”

silence.

instant. deafening. silence.

you felt the temperature drop by ten degrees as carlos’ mother, reyes, slowly set down her fork.

then, in the calmest, most dangerous voice, she said—

“perdón?” (excuse me?)

carlos finally looked up, suddenly very aware that the entire table was staring at him.

you could feel the panic radiating off him as he quickly backtracked, already regretting every life choice that led him to this moment.

reyes’ gaze remained sharp, assessing.

then, with the slightest tilt of her head, she said—

“carlos, go get it before i do something you’ll regret.”

carlos shot up so fast, his chair nearly tipped over as he rushed to the napkin holder.

you lost it, laughter spilling out as the entire table erupted in amusement.

reyes simply shook her head, taking a sip of her wine. “you two are ridiculous, but, y/n, if he ever speaks to you like that again, you tell me.”

carlos, returning defeated, dropped the napkin in front of you with a glare.

you grinned, leaning in. “what's it like getting scolded by your mother, amor?”

ʚ・charles leclerc

spending time with charles and his brothers, arthur and lorenzo, was always entertaining.

three leclerc men in one room meant a mix of teasing, bickering, and an unspoken rule that charles could never win an argument.

which is why you knew this prank would be gold.

“oh, charles, can you grab my sunglasses from the car?”

charles, casually sipping his espresso, waved a hand dismissively.

“that's far, get it yourself”

silence.

dead. serious. silence.

arthur whipped his head around so fast, you thought he might get whiplash.

“charles. that’s not how you talk to your girlfriend.”

lorenzo, who had been calmly eating his meal, set his fork down with purpose.

“apologize. immediately.”

charles’ expression shifted from smug to terrified in under two seconds.

his green eyes darted between his brothers, realization dawning that he was outnumbered, outgunned, and completely screwed.

“guys, relax, it’s not that—”

arthur leaned forward, voice dead serious. “no. apologize.”

you pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh, but the way charles was visibly sweating was making it so much harder.

finally, you cracked, bursting into laughter.

arthur and lorenzo turned to you, confused, as you giggled uncontrollably.

“it’s a prank,” you admitted, wiping away a tear.

arthur sat back, sighing dramatically. “i was about to throw my fork at you, charles.”

lorenzo took another sip of his drink, completely unfazed. “the threat still stands.”

charles muttered something under his breath as he begrudgingly got up to fetch your sunglasses.

you smirked, watching him walk away. “i love this family.”

2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate

[whytheylosttheirminds]

you knock me out, i fall apart

being a new dad is the scariest thing in the world for rafe, until his baby girl smiles at him for the first time...

When his daughter was born, she cried so loud that Rafe thought something must be wrong. But then he saw your face, full of relief and joy as they placed your baby girl on your chest.

“She’s a fighter, huh?” The nurse asked with a chuckle.

“Just like her dad,” you said, leaning back onto the pillows and gazing up at Rafe with so much affection and relief in your eyes he thought he might be dreaming. He hoped you didn’t see the blood drain from his own face.

The baby’s little fists clenched as she kept crying out, letting the world know she was here and she was not going to be quiet about it.

“Wh-what’s wrong with her?” Rafe looked at the doctor with a panic stricken face. “Is she hurt?”

The doctor didn’t seem worried, which irritated Rafe. Could he not hear her? She was so tiny and helpless, why did no one else seem worried?

“It’s a good thing, healthy lungs,” the doctor told him casually. “Got a name?”

“Josephine Cameron,” you answered without a second thought. 

You’d picked the first name only a few weeks after discovering you were pregnant, but you and Rafe had never talked about her last name. He assumed you didn’t want to offend him by saying it’d be better if your baby girl didn’t have the weight of his name strapped to her. Her life would be hard enough with a fuck up like him for a father.

“You want her name to be Cameron?” Rafe asked in surprise, his face still ashen while yours was glowing with sweat and color and new mom joy.

“Of course,” you said simply, eyes fluttering shut with exhaustion. “Mine will be too soon.”

He was stunned, but he tried not to show it, hoping everyone in the room would attribute his teary eyes to the exhaustion of your twenty-four hour labor. He’d been awake and at your side for every single second.

For just a moment, all was quiet. Then, Josie’s face scrunched with a fury he’d only ever seen in the mirror. Her scream built like a wave, crashing over the room when she finally wailed with all the force of her tiny lungs. Rafe’s heart shattered at the sound. All he wanted in the world was to help her, to take away her pain, and he hated that he had no idea how to.

He didn’t understand how you could be so calm while something was clearly wrong with the baby. But you just rubbed her back, Josie settling under your gentle touch and nuzzling into the soft skin of your bare chest. Looking down at the two of you, he’d never been more in love, or more sure that he wasn’t cut out for this. Not like you were.

“Can you take her?” You requested through a yawn.

“I-I can’t…I don’t know how.”

You smiled at him, your heavy eyelids struggling to stay open. 

“Just cradle her head, like this.”

You demonstrated for him before passing the little bundle in your arms over to him. 

His hands were shaking, shoulders tense. He held her away from his chest, eyes wide with panic.

“What if I drop her?”

Beneath his words, his truest fear - what if I’m too much, and it hurts her?

But you were already slipping into well-earned sleep.

“You won’t, baby,” you said dreamily.

Rafe wasn’t so sure. He met Josie’s eyes, her little blue irises identical to his own as she blinked up at him. She was only a few minutes old, but he thought he saw something knowing in her gaze, her face reading something like, this guy? Seriously?

He had the strange urge to apologize to her: yeah so sorry, this was all a big misunderstanding. I’ll go get your real dad now.

But he couldn’t, because he was her real dad, no substitutes would be coming to rescue her from that fact. 

Josie’s blanket came unswaddled as Rafe continued to struggle to hold her properly. You couldn’t fight off the sleep that took over, so a nurse rushed to his side and mercifully pulled Josie from his arms to place her in the bassinet. He was grateful, but felt strongly like he’d just failed his first fatherhood test.

Just like her dad, you’d said.

For Josie’s sake, he sure hoped not.

------❤︎------

Rafe had committed to getting clean the second he saw that little pink plus sign on the pregnancy test. And he’d kept his promise. His body took a long time to adjust, but now he was healthier than ever. He woke up with you for every feeding, hair messy and eyes half closed as he went to the kitchen to get you water and a midnight snack.

“You can go back to sleep, love,” you’d assure him sweetly.

“If you’re up, I’m up.” He’d say.

You stopped trying to convince him to go back to sleep, grateful for his partnership in the exhausting early hours.

One night, only a few days after you’d gotten home from the hospital, you finished feeding Josie and set her on the boppy laid on your mattress. She wriggled and stretched, drowsy in a milk haze. 

“I’ll be right back,” you told Rafe, standing to head into the shower.

“Oh, uh, okay.” He tried not to let you hear his nerves. He hadn’t spent much time alone with the baby since carrying her in from the car a few days ago. He was still so sure he’d break her if given the chance.

Josie settled for a minute, he thought she’d gone back to sleep. Just as he was breathing a sigh of relief, her little eyes blinked open, staring unfocused at the ceiling above her. Her vision hadn’t developed yet, but he could tell she sensed her mother’s absence already. Her face scrunched in the unsettled way Rafe was quickly learning led to her cries.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, shhh.” Rafe pulled the boppy closer to him, letting it sit between his legs as he bent over the baby, his bare shoulders casting a shadow across her tiny body in the dim lamplight.

“She’ll be right back,” he tried to sound assuring, but his eyes flicked nervously to the cracked open bathroom door, hoping you’d change your mind about a shower and come back to them.

He looked down at his daughter and took a deep breath, reaching tentatively to place a hand on her little belly. Since she was born, you’d been trying to determine who she looked more like - you or Rafe. But now, gazing down at her, it was strikingly clear how much she looked like a Cameron. 

Her chubby little cheeks concave in tiny dimples, just like her dad’s. Her bright eyes are deep blue, just like her dad’s. Her little forehead scrunches and her little lips purse when she’s upset, just like her dad’s. 

The sudden realization that she looked so much like him warmed Rafe from the inside out, something completely new blooming in his chest. She was his. His baby girl. His eyes grew damp as she squirmed and squawked, looking around the room like she was still trying to find you. He gently settled the tips of his calloused forefingers in the dips in her soft cheeks, unable to resist a gentle squish.

“Hi baby,” he said lovingly.

The deep, soft sound of his voice caught her attention, her eyes locking on him. And then she smiled.

Rafe’s heart leapt in his chest, he looked up, considering calling out for you to come see, but he was speechless. He was tempted to take a picture, but no image could capture how perfect this moment was.

“Hi Jojo,” he repeated, his voice cracking. “Are you smiling at dada? You’re smiling at dada! My girl!” 

The parenting books stacked on his bedside table had taught him most babies don’t smile until they’re six weeks old, but the longer he looked at her in amazement, the wider she smiled at him. 

“You’re better than most babies, huh?” He cooed. “Yeah. ‘Cause you’re my smart girl. You’re dada’s girl.”

Without even thinking about it, he scooped her into his arms. She was already nestled against his chest, skin to skin, before it hit him how natural the movement had been. He was finally holding her the way she needed him to. She scrunched up her little body, curled on his chest in perfect peace.

Rafe dropped a featherlight kiss to the top of her head as she drifted off to sleep.

“My girl.”

------❤︎------

a/n: wait I loved writing this sm. I might do some more dada rafe and baby jojo fluff soon <3

update: here's the au :)

divider credit to @qqmariztwsse !

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel struggles to fight temptation with Sarah’s bestfriend after he’s forced to share a bed with her.]

Smut dry humping 18+

He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.

Winter vacation with the Millers was something you had been looking forward to for the past month. Sarah and you were on break from college and had been best friends since high school. The two of you always planned vacations together and this time her dad and uncle were apart of the plans. A road-trip to Colorado to stay at a cabin and go skiing, you were so excited. The ride was about twelve hours long but you loved road-trips so you were perfectly fine with the time it would take to get there.

“Everybody packed?” Joel came out putting the last few bags on the back of his truck as Sarah came out in a panic.

“Shoot! I forgot to leave my work keys at the job”

“Doesn’t someone else have em?” Joel asked confused.

“Sidney is off and I was suppose to leave them for Matt, they’ll kill me. I’m so stupid”

“Alright relax-“ Tommy came in to the recuse as he usually did.

“I gotta drive by your job anyways and pick up a couple things, we’ll stop by your job and then continue heading to Colorado”

Sarah jumped up and down in relief.

“Oh uncle Tommy, you’re a savior”

“So I’ve been told” he shrugged with a chuckle.

“So what are we doin’?” Joel asked as you stood silently waiting for a plan.

“Sarah and I will go do what we gotta do and you and her can get a head start so we don’t miss our check in at the cabin”

“You want me to go with your dad?” You attempted to whisper to Sarah as he looked over at you.

“Yeah cause remember we booked the cabin under our names so me or you need to at least be there for check in” Sarah explained. Joel tried to hide his look of disapproval. Of course it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around you, it was more so that he knew he shouldn’t be, especially alone.

“Alright well let’s get goin’” Tommy jumped in his truck as Sarah followed while you got in the car with Joel.

The drive was slightly awkward at first, being that Joel wasn’t much of a talker. His body felt tense as he drove, sneaking a glance at you as you looked out the window. You wore a jean skirt with a plain pink top, but all he could focus on was your legs.

“Mind if I put on the radio?”

He quickly looked away the second you spoke.

“Go ahead” he couldn’t help but notice your hand with red nails reach forward. God he hoped Tommy and Sarah wouldn’t take long doing what they had to do because Joel didn’t know long he could handle being alone with you.

“So are you excited?” You asked trying to make conversation.

“Course I am, been a while since I’ve gone skiing but I’m sure I still got it in me”

“Well maybe you can teach me” you spoke innocently, yet your words lingered in the air sending a shock of pleasure down his groin. He shifted in his seat as you sighed and changed the radio station not having any clue just how aroused you were making him simply by being in his presence.

Joel tried anything to get his mind off you, singing a song in his head, thinking about the last movie he saw, hell, anything to distract his mind from wandering off, especially with you right beside him. As the hours went by it helped that you had fallen asleep. Your hands folded on your lap as you leaned toward the door, Joel couldn’t help but take a slow look at you now that he could without being caught. He’d known you for a few years now but he didn’t know what the hell changed on you once you graduated high school. A simple look couldn’t hurt he convinced himself..

Not too long after, you woke up to Joel on the phone, whatever it was, you could tell he wasn’t happy about it.

“You’re kiddin’ me right?” Joel uttered low.

“Why the hell didn’t you say somethin’ earlier?” You crossed your arms sitting up wondering what was going on as he pulled over to the side of the road.

“The hell am I suppose to do now?” He continued, a few more words were said before he slammed his phone shut.

“What happened?” You spoke in a soft voice.

“Tommy’s truck broke down”

“What? We still have hours to go, where are they?”

“They’re three hours away”

“What?” You whispered confused.

It was ten at night and you had no idea where you were or what you were supposed to do.

“So now what?”

“We get a motel for the night, they’ll meet us in the mornin’-“

“A motel?“

Joel cleared his throat looking away, obvious discomfort on his face as he tried to hide how he felt about staying at a motel with you.

“Yeah, Sarah already called the cabin. We’ll make it there tomorrow” he continued to drive as you looked at the road confused.

Luckily Joel had found a motel up the road.

As soon as he entered the lobby he was clear in asking for two separate rooms or at least a room with two beds. Of course with his luck there was only one room available with one bed.

“Jesus christ” he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. With there not being another motel for another ten miles down Joel gave in and took the key.

Unlocking the door you could see how annoyed he felt, you figured it was because of delay in the trip. Pressing his lips together he looked up at you and motioned for you to walk in before him. The first sight of the bed sitting in the middle of the room you sighed as Joel stood behind you and shut the door.

“You can take the bed” he uttered low throwing his bag to the side.

“And where are you going to sleep?”

He pointed at a wooden chair in the corner of the room making you scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous , Mr.Miller. You need proper rest, you’ve been driving for a few hours and-“

“I’ll do just fine on that chair” he insisted “and how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Joel”.

“Well, Joel, the bed is big enough for both of us, why make things harder for yourself?” you raised a brow as you took your bag and walked to the bathroom. Joel never thought he would ever find himself in a situation like this, his mind racing with things he found harder to ignore.

After changing into your pajamas you walked out of the room yawning making Joel turn to you. Instantly taken back by what you wore, an oversized t shirt that dropped down above your knees.

“The hell are you wearin’?”

“My pajamas?” You looked at him confused, his hands on his hips as he looked flustered.

“Ain’t there somethin’ else you could wear?”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You tilted your head as he bit down on his bottom lip. There was no way Joel was going to be locked in a room with you just wearing an oversized shirt. You didn’t see anything wrong with it especially with how long it was.

“I’m gonna go get somethin’ from the truck” he uttered under his breath as he turned towards the door. Yeah, that’s what he figured he would do. Sleep in the car.

“Wait-“ you took a step forward.

“What?”

“Where are you going?”

“To my truck, I’ll sleep in the car and-“

“No!” You took another step forward.

“You can’t leave me alone in this motel…I-“

“Why not?” He furrowed his brows.

“It’s creepy and…I don’t know…I’m kinda scared to stay alone up here”

“You’re scared?” You could hear the irritation in his tone, God you were making it harder for the man to keep himself away from you.

“Yes, can you please stay”

Joel sighed looking away knowing he had no choice. He knew he couldn’t just leave you alone like that.

“Thank you” you whispered and headed to the bed.

“So what side do you prefer to sleep on?”

Joel looked up at you, clearly over the whole ordeal.

“I ain’t sleepin’ on the bed”

“You’re still going on with that? Look how big this bed is!” You took it upon yourself to choose a side and lay back.

“You know something Mr.Miller-Joel” you corrected yourself as you sat up.

“Sometimes I think you just don’t like me and I don’t know what I’ve done but whatever it is, I apologize”

Joel stood still, Jesus Christ, now he had you thinking he didn’t like you, which obviously was so very far from the truth. He cleared his throat, not exactly sure how to defend himself without being obvious how badly he actually wanted you.

“That ain’t it, sweetheart” his words were spoken softly, probably the softest he’s ever spoken to you. There was an awkward silence after that before you sighed and got under the covers.

“Well, if that’s not it, then I insist you lay on a bed to sleep. I won’t bother you I promise” he watched as you turned over and proceeded to close your eyes.

Giving in, he walked towards the bed. Still debating in his mind what he should and shouldn’t do. He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.

“You didn’t pack pajamas?” You suddenly turned catching him off guard.

“Yeah uh-“

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna sleep with jeans on, that’s so uncomfortable” you turned back the way you were as Joel took a deep breath. Without saying a word he proceeded to change his clothes in the bathroom.

Sweats and a navy blue t shirt Joel awkwardly sat on the bed. It seemed as if you had already fallen asleep, if so, it definitely would be better for him. Laying on his back he looked at the ceiling, his knee up as he carefully tried not to move much with you beside him.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad he thought, just a few hours, make it through the night and everything would be fine, right? He couldn’t help but look over, the blanket covering your legs until you moved shifting its place on you. Now a hint of the back of your bear thighs exposed to him, he didn’t even realize he began to breathe hard. His eyes darting back and forth between the ceiling and your legs until he found it in him to reach over and attempt to cover you. Of course, just as he did you unexpectedly turned over toward him, his hand now trapped beneath the side of your thigh as you faced him.

“Shit” he whispered, his breathing becoming harder to control, a feeling of anticipation he couldn’t hide. His hand feeling your bare skin on him, he could feel the pressure in his chest when you abruptly turned away again.

God you were moving a lot, each movement taking him by surprise but now here you were with your ass poked out just inches away from his crotch area. Looking down, his hand ached to grab your waist and press himself against you. The scent of your vanilla spray filling the air, only weakening his fight. A soft sleepy moan escaping your lips making him look up, the sound you made only making his cock begin to the throb as it hardened in his pants when your phone began to buzz.

Joel quickly turned onto his back lifting the covers over him as you responded in a lazy like voice.

“Mhm. Sure…yeah…I’ll tell him” you sighed before clicking the phone off and turning to Joel.

“Sarah said-“ you stopped in your tracks noticing how fast paced his breathing was.

“Are you ok?” His knee blocking his erection as he refused to look at you.

“Joel?” You whispered.

“I’m fine” he responded in a much more aggressive tone than he meant to.

“Are…are you sure?”

He looked to you with a clenched jaw but he didn’t say a word. His mind going hazy the second he laid eyes on you, he knew he was no longer thinking straight. Joel felt like an animal was taking over him when he abruptly turned towards you and kissed you. You squealed in shock as his hand caressed the crook of your neck, he placed himself over you just before he pulled his lips away. You panted looking up at him in disbelief, how he managed to get himself between your legs so quickly you couldn’t say.

“Joel..” you whispered.

“You scared me” your words instantly setting a realization within him, regret was clear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ but just before he attempted to remove himself, you gently placed your hand on his face. He closed his eyes savoring your touch, your legs adjusting around his waist allowing you to feel his fully erect member against you.

“So this is what it’s all been about…” you whispered somewhat amused as he looked away with shame.

“This ain’t right” you felt him about to move away and tightened your legs around him.

“Wait” you whispered.

“We don’t…we don’t have to do anything but you can just…just stay here” you felt yourself become aroused, the head of his cock against your pussy lips. Through his sweats you could feel the shape of him against you, your black lace underwear soaking up from your excitement. As good as it felt between your legs, Joel took a deep breath.

“I can’t” he whispered, his lips against your forehead.

“Please..” you grabbed onto his shirt wanting to feel him even closer and that’s when he slowly thrusted his hips against you. Your lips parted against his and he thrusted again and again. Your moan made him freeze in place, he wanted more. Joel lifted his body up and looked down noticing the wet stop you left him on his grey sweats, only tempting him to continue.

“I’m sorry” you whispered slightly embarrassed.

He didn’t say a word, you could see him losing the fight and angled his face back to you.

“It’s not like we’re having sex..” you whispered.

“We’re not doing anything wrong” you continued, your thumb brushing over his lips.

He needed to feel more.

With one hand leaning beside your head, he pushed himself up and pushed down his sweats along with his underwear, revealing his aching member.

“What are you doing?”

“I won’t put it in, I just-“ he proceeded to take his cock and brush it up and down between your lips, you lay silently feeling aroused like you had never felt before. Your silk underwear slowly moving aside the more he teased you, his eyes on yours as he focused on the hold he had on you.

“Just don’t-“

“I won’t” he whispered hoarsely. The feel of his cock coming into contact with your pussy, you slowly reached between you both and pulled your underwear aside giving him complete access to feel you.

“Oh, baby…I don’t know if I can stop” he panted as your body squirmed beneath him. You both wanted more, the sound of how wet your pussy was only continued to awaken the animal inside him. His eyes focused on yours when he suddenly slipped himself inside you making you gasp. He held himself feeling you throb around him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Joel..” you whispered, his eyes dazed.

“I’m sorry..” he whispered.

“Don’t be…. Again…please” Joel did just as you asked, sliding himself nearly all the way out before ramming himself in you once more.

“Is that what you want? Tell me” he demanded, both of his hands grabbing your face. You nodded desperately before he began moving his hips in a rhythm against you, again and again and again. The bed squeaking loudly the faster he moved.

“Fuck” you moaned as he aggressively pulled his shirt over his head with one hand before sliding his other hand under your ass and lifting you up closer against him. Joel didn’t give a shit if what he was doing in that moment wasn’t wrong and neither did you. You felt better than he could imagine, your tight wet cunt wrapped around him, he moaned deeply. You didn’t want him to stop, you didn’t want it to end when someone suddenly knocked on the door. You and Joel froze out of breath as someone knocked again.

“Housekeeping!”

“No!” Joel blurt out roughly.

“No thank you” he breathed in relief that it was no one else before continuing what he was doing. Next thing you knew, Joel flipped you on top of him, his hands pushing up beneath your shirt grabbing your breasts as you bounced him. Joel could feel your cum dripping down his ballsack.

“Just like that, baby” he panted looking down at his cock.

“Fuck, Joel I’m gonna-“

“You’re gonna cum? Look at me, fucking look at me when you cum” he grabbed a handful of your hair and bought your face down close to his as he pushed his pelvis upwards as fast as he could. You couldn’t take the pleasure he was making you feel, your screams echoing around the room as you came repeatedly.

“Atta girl” he slowed down and flipped you back on your back, your body limp from your orgasm he got on his knees and quickly pulled out. Jerking himself off, his cum shot out of him onto your stomach as he leaned over you.

“Oh shit” he spoke breathlessly looking down at when slowly the intense high came crashing down. He had just fucked his daughter’s Bestfriend.

Joel pushed himself off the bed, slowly stumbling towards the bathroom as your body still tried to recover. He didn’t say a word slamming the bathroom door shut as you slowly pushed yourself up.

“Are you okay?” You called out to him cleaning yourself up, your legs slightly trembling. He didn’t respond.

A few minutes later Joel came rushing out fully dressed and began packing his bag.

“What are you doing?” You asked confused.

“Get dressed, we ain’t stayin’ here”

“Joel, where the hell are we gonna go?”

“Get dressed” he narrowed his eyes on you with a tone you didn’t like.

“Where are we going? Sarah is three hours away and the cabin is still hours away-“

“I ain’t stayin’ here” he walked past you picking up his sweats and throwing it in the bag.

“I don’t understand-“ he abruptly stopped before you and grabbed your face making you gasp.

“I just fucked you in a damn motel. If I don’t leave from here, I will fuck you again and again” his eyes drifted to your lips as you looked at him speechless.

“You’re my daughter’s best friend, I can’t do this” he whispered as he got lost in his temptation and kissed you passionately. He carried you up against the wall brushing his hand up your thigh pushing your shirt above your hips before he moved his lips away. Leaning his forehead on yours he slowly put you back on your feet.

“Get dressed” his tone was cold as he turned away from you.

“You know what-“ you walked towards your bag and pulled out your pants.

“As soon as Sarah and Tommy meet us we can switch, I’ll ride the rest of the way with Tommy” Joel instantly looked up from his bag. Clearly what you said didn’t exactly sit right with him. The thought of you traveling alone with Tommy knowing how his brother was something he was not going to allow. Especially after what had just happened with you.

“So you wanna ride with Tommy now?” He made his way around the bed walking towards you as you pulled up your pants without looking at him.

“Mhm” you responded with clear annoyance.

“You gonna wear your little panties for Tommy too?” Your eyes widened.

“Oh screw you, I didn’t make a move on you”

Joel stood silent, he knew you were right yet his jealousy somehow overpowering his emotions. He felt defeated.

“You’re not ridin’ with Tommy and that’s final” he turned away.

“And what makes you think I have to listen to you?” You quickly followed him until he suddenly turned back to you catching you off guard. He was silent, his jaw tense as you looked up at him slightly intimidated. You could’ve sworn he was going to say something….anything until your phone rang.

Sarah and Tommy got a ride and were now much much closer than you both originally expected them to be and that’s when it hit you, that you were now stuck on a four day trip with your Bestfriend and her dad that you had just slept with..

@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco @justajoelsreader @ashleyfilm

[monogamia]

not me haunting your asks in every single blog you own 😈 sooo, do you write parents!au? bc I wanted to request some scenario abt how sylus, caleb and xavier would react to their kids telling u to shut up. I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT ITS A OLD TREND I THINK?? anyway, love ya babe 💘💋💋

੭⠀ A little prank.

⋆⠀AUTHOR'S NOTES: I love parents!au so much 😭

⋆⠀FEATURING: Xavier, Sylus, Caleb.

⋆⠀WARNING: English is not my first language, so it may contain some mistakes.

Your son’s favorite pastime was annoying his father, and he was certainly better at it than anyone else. Not only that, but he also managed to convince you to help with yet another one of his… pranks.

The boy smiled when he saw his father heading to the kitchen and turned back to his video game. Not long after, you walked into the room with something in hand. “Sweetheart, could you take this—”

“Shut up, mom,” he tried to say in an irritated tone, but a smile was plastered across his face.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀XAVIER

Not even five seconds had passed before your son was groaning in pain, Xavier’s slipper lying on the couch beside him after hitting the back of his head squarely. “Dad—”

Xavier raised the other slipper, pointing it at the boy. “Apologize. Now,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“But I was busy, and she—” Once again, the boy didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the other slipper flying straight at him. Xavier crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on his son.

You widened your eyes and placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Okay, okay, it was a… joke, just a prank.”

Xavier gave a faint smirk, glancing at you. “…Yeah, I knew that.” He pulled you into a hug, sticking his tongue out at your son. “You think I’d stop at that if I saw him disrespecting you like that?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀SYLUS

Sylus prided himself on being an exemplary father. He was patient, fun—or so he thought—and wealthy. I mean, surely his son was already having a better childhood than most people who came from the same place Sylus had, right?

And perhaps it was exactly that freedom and comfort in his presence that made the boy feel confident enough to make that kind of joke.

“I must’ve misheard. Definitely,” Sylus said loud enough for both of you to hear. You turned away so he wouldn’t see your expression, while your son simply grimaced.

“Dad, she could’ve just asked one of my uncles to go—or, I don’t know, gone herself!” the boy said, spinning the pieces of a pistol between his fingers.

Sylus’s steps were almost inaudible; it was as if he had teleported to his son’s side. He crossed his arms, an irritated expression on his face. His son had never seen that look before—at least, not directed at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that under this roof,” he said. “I don’t care if she could’ve asked someone else—if she tells you to do something, you do it. She brought you into this world.”

The boy couldn’t hold back his laughter, bursting out in hysterics. Your husband opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw you laughing as well. He let out a sigh, rubbing his face. “You too now?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀CALEB

Honestly, your son was expecting Caleb to yell at him or chase after him, but it was even more terrifying to see him stay silent, slowly turning to face the boy.

He froze, setting the video game controller down on the coffee table. Caleb’s eyes stayed fixed on him, and his silence lingered just long enough to make the boy shift uncomfortably under the stare.

When Caleb finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm—and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. “You have five seconds to do as your mother said and come back here, and another five to apologize and explain yourself.”

You let out an awkward laugh before wrapping your arms around your husband. “It was just a joke, I swear.” Caleb glanced at you, slipping a hand under your shirt to give you a pinch. “Ouch! It was his idea!”

He rolled his eyes but let out a relieved laugh, despite his irritation with your newfound way of spending free time. “I should’ve known.”

[writeriguess]

Can you do Katsuki x female reader where reader's daughter (who she had with another man years ago, her ex turned out to be abusive) finally warms up to Katsuki enough to start calling him her dad? The girl has traumas about her dad so it's a big step.

author's note: never mind about the GIF library—it only seems to work with certain tags. Katsuki's tag takes 5 minutes to load before throwing me with an error. I'll try adding GIFs to posts that actually load for me.

Piece by Piece

Katsuki had always been patient, in his own rough-edged way. He knew better than to force anything, especially when it came to your daughter, Aimi. She had every reason to be wary of men, of father figures, and he never blamed her for keeping her distance. He had seen the haunted look in her eyes when she flinched at loud voices, how she hesitated before speaking, always gauging if she was safe.

At first, she barely acknowledged him, only ever referring to him as "Mom’s boyfriend" or simply "Katsuki." It stung a little, but he never let it show. Instead, he showed up—again and again. Helping her with homework, cooking meals when you were busy, staying up with her when she had nightmares, and never pushing when she needed space. He wasn’t trying to replace anyone. He just wanted her to know that he wasn’t going anywhere.

There were tough days. Days where she barely spoke a word to him, locking herself in her room, the old memories dragging her down. On those nights, he’d stay up, making sure she knew he was around if she needed anything. Some nights she had nightmares. He heard her muffled cries through the door but never forced his way in. Instead, he left a cup of tea outside her door, a small note scrawled on it: "You’re safe. We’ve got you."

Slowly, she started warming up. Small things—like watching TV in the same room as him instead of avoiding him altogether. Asking him to pass the salt at dinner instead of pretending he didn’t exist. He took every small win, knowing trust took time.

Tonight was no different. You had fallen asleep on the couch after a long day, leaving Aimi and Katsuki alone in the kitchen. She sat at the table, lazily pushing around the remains of her dinner while Katsuki stood at the sink, washing dishes.

“You don’t have to do that,” Aimi mumbled, staring at the soapy water. “Mom’ll do it in the morning.”

Katsuki huffed, rinsing off a plate. “Tch. Ain’t lettin’ her wake up to a mess. She does enough as it is.”

Aimi was quiet for a moment, watching him. He knew that look—like she was debating something, turning it over in her mind. “You always help,” she said finally, almost accusingly.

Katsuki dried his hands and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “Yeah. So?”

She fidgeted, picking at the edge of her sleeve. “My real dad never did.”

His chest tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Just let her talk.

“He used to yell at Mom a lot. At me, too.” Her voice was small, but steady. “I used to wish he’d just leave us alone. But when he finally did, I still felt…wrong. Like maybe I wasn’t good enough.”

Katsuki’s hands clenched into fists, his nails biting into his palms. The urge to track down that bastard and make him regret every word, every bruise, every scar he’d left on them—it burned hot inside him. But this moment wasn’t about his anger. It was about Aimi.

He forced himself to take a slow breath. “That asshole had nothin’ to do with your worth, kid. He was just a piece of shit who didn’t deserve you or your mom.”

Aimi looked up at him then, really looked at him. “You’re different.”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool even though his heart was hammering. “Damn right, I am.”

She gave a small, almost shy smile. Then, barely above a whisper, she said, “Thanks, Dad.”

Katsuki froze. The plate in his hand nearly slipped. He turned to her slowly, his throat tight. “What’d you just say?”

She shifted, suddenly nervous. “I mean—only if you want me to call you that—”

He was across the room before she could finish, pulling her into a hug. He felt her stiffen at first, but then she melted into him, clutching his shirt with small hands.

“You’re damn right I do,” he murmured, his voice rough, thick with emotion. “You’re my kid now, got it?”

Aimi sniffled against his chest. “Okay…Dad.”

Katsuki held her tighter, pressing his chin against her head. He stayed like that, letting her feel the steady strength of his arms. After a few moments, she let out a small laugh, muffled against his chest.

“You’re squishing me.”

He grunted but loosened his grip slightly. “Tch. You’ll live.”

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her expression softer than he’d ever seen. “I think I’m really lucky.”

Katsuki’s throat tightened again, and he ruffled her hair roughly to hide the way his eyes burned. “Damn right you are. Best damn dad you coulda picked.”

She giggled, a sound so rare it made his heart ache. “Yeah. I think so too.”

Yeah, he’d never let her or you go. Not for anything.

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt 4 of forever teen Danny adopted JJ Tim and Red Hood Jason. Sorry if you're a Batman or Nightwing fan, I'm not nice to them in this one.

[Pt3: Here][pt5: here]

The last 4 years have been a riot. Danny has 2 wonderful and slightly unhinged boys that he stole from the Bats. They've gotten in so many shenanigans, between normal vigilante shit, the Bats and/or ghost/supernatural hunters trying to bag them, and them just fucking around.

It's the most fun he's had in a while. They're good kids, but they, of course, have started branching out. They're 19 (Jason) and 17(Tim) now and don't necessarily want their dad following them around. So Danny gave them his personal summons just in case and made them promise to stay close together, the two of them are good at covering for the other's weaknesses. Like how Tim only being Liminal, he can take more hits from the ghost hunters that will clock Jason as a Revenant or Jason's supernatural strength taking out the bigger assholes that target Tim for his small size or Joker mannerisms.

So he tries not to worry, simply going to work and trusting them to either deal with any trouble themselves or summon him. And for 3 months they don't need to summon him once. But at the end of month 3, he feels it.

"Hey, Eddy! I got to go! My kids are in trouble!" Danny calls to his boss, already moving to somewhere there's less witnesses to see him poof.

"Okay! See ya! ...Wait, you have kids?" Danny doesn't answer, letting the summons take ahold and pull him through the fabric of reality.

A fun side effect of being summoned is that he always ends up in his High King form. The form is humanoid in the vaguest of sense. It's also just stars and the void of space. His eyes are giant stars and his mouth is too wide and full of rows and rows of needle-like teeth. A crown of ice smokes like dry ice on his head and the ring of rage is simple stripe of neon green on his right hand's middle finger (he thought it'd be funny to flip people off with it). All in all, he's terrifying for mortals to see unprepared.

And the cussing around him tells the people hassling his sons are NOT prepared.

"HOW THE FUCK DID YOU SUMMON THE GHOST KING???" A very distraught British man shrieks. Danny would feel bad, but this idiot is standing near the Bat and Nightwing AND Danny's sons are tied up in front of them.

"DAaaaAD!" Tim whines, flopping over to look at him. "They're trying to excorise Hoodie!"

"Are they now?" Danny hisses. His voice sounds like glaciers crashing together.

"Bats! What the fuck??? You didn't tell me THAT WAS THEIR DAD!" British man sounds on the brink of a mental breakdown.

"We've never seen this entity." Batman frowns.

"Yeah! They've been calling a ghost kid dad this whole time!" Nightwing defends. "How were we supposed to know they could summon this guy??"

"What...what did you say the "kid"'s name was?" British dude asks faintly.

"We didn't." Batman says.

"Weeell, Johnny-boy!" Jason sounds like he has a shit eating grin. "What they didn't tell you is our sweet ol' adoptive father is called Phantom~!"

"Oh goodie! We're so dead..." "Johnny" says and starts chugging his flask of probably alcohol. It suddenly clicks that this is the fabled John Constantine.

"You should know better than to take a job half-assed, John Constantine." Danny grins with teeth.

"Oh good, he knows my name.." Constantine mumbles to himself.

"Give me one good reason to not kill you all for trying to kill my son and kidnap the other." Danny waves a hand and slices his sons' bindings. "I have only been so patient with you bats because my sons are fond of you, but my patience is running out."

"Tim belongs with us! He needs help and healing!" Nightwing proclaims.

"I talk to a licensed therapist twice a week and take my meds every day! Try again, Big Birdie!!" Tim snarls. "Just because I'm not what you want me to be doesn't mean I'm a broken doll in need of saving!"

"Besides, don't you have a new bird to destroy?" Jason asks with a head tilt. "The second birdie died, the third got mentally fucked, the four died... I think we can count birdie #1 as mentally fucked up, meaning if we follow the pattern, birdie #5 will be mentally fucked by the time he flies the nest."

"How do you know so much about us, Red Hood?" Batman demands with a scowl.

"He doesn't have to tell you anything!" Tim steps in front of Jason and glares.

"I'm still waiting on a reason to not kill you." Danny reminds them. The bats look towards Constantine.

"Don't look at me, mates. That's head bitch of all head bitches. The fact he's letting you plead your case after threatening what he deems as his is a step up huge from most overpowered dead guys. From what I heard, the last guy would have just killed us the moment he was summoned and then destroyed the whole dimension afterwards. This guy beat that guy in single combat." Constantine pulls out a cigarette before addressing Danny, "Your Majesty, I had no idea these were your kids. I was just told a Revenant had kidnapped and "brainwashed" the ex-Robin. Clearly, I wasn't told accurate information."

Nightwing sputters, "What Do You Mean?? Clearly Tim has been brainwashed or something!!"

Constantine whips around to Nightwing, "Oh shut up, you big blue twit! King Phantom DESPISES mind control! Which means your ex-bird is with these two completely willingly."

"There's n-" Nightwing tries, but Constantine bulldozes on.

"I don't know what you did to the kid, nor do I care. But he's considered ROYALTY to the dead and undead now. He doesn't have to have ANYTHING to do with you. If you take him away from his new and apparently accepting family, that's considered an interdimensional crime, and no magician or supernatural or even god-like being will help you." Constantine takes a long drag of his cigarette. "I suggest you apologize, make your excuses, then leave them the fuck alone. Besides, chas been at a record low in Gotham from what I hear. Let them do what they want. "

"That's because Red Hood keeps killing the Rouges!" Nightwing protests. "Who gives him the right to be judge, jury, and executioner???"

Constantine points to Danny and says flatly. "The ruler of basically everything, that's who."

Danny grins at him, his ghost half is very pleased with the man. "I shall spare you, magic man."

Constantine looks like he's going to faint from relief, moving to park himself by the door. "Just fucking apologize and leave them be, Bats."

"But!" Nightwing looks like he's going to cry. He turns his teary eyes to Tim. "Why can't you just come home, Timmy?"

"What home?" Tim stares down his nose at Nightwing, anger clear in his voice. "The Manor was Never my home. I was simply the stand in for your and B's grief for a boy you both pushed to his death. Phantom showed me what family really was. And that was AFTER I was too broken for you to accept. I was NOT Joker Junior then or now. I'm my own fucking person and I'm staying with the family that accepts me for ALL my oddities."

"You tried to put him in Arkham when he tried to go to you." Red Hood growls. "He wanted your support and help and you were going to lock him up and throw away the key."

"We were n-"

"YOU WERE!" Tim starts to trembling in hurt and rage. "You couldn't even look at me! I wanted you so badly to help me and you were going to put me in there right next to Harley! I wanted you to be my family, but I've only ever been a tool to you!"

"You weren't-" Danny doesn't like how the Bats seem ready to jump at his kids, so he freezes the Bats' feet to the floor.

"Shut up, Dickwing." Jason snarls, pulling Tim into a hug. "You lost your chance to be his brother 4 years ago. Go pretend to care about the new cannon fodder. We don't want to hear it."

"Hood." Batman finally speaks. "Who are you?"

"Who do you think, old man?" Jason takes his hood off for the first time ever in front of the Bats. They visibly startle, recognizing him despite all the changes.

"Ja-" The Bat starts.

"Shut up." Jason glares. "You were a shit dad and brother to me in life. I found the BEST family in death."

Danny picks up his boys, deciding to let them decide on the severity of the Bats' punishment. "Maiming or death?"

"... I say maim, but only because I know the newest bird and want him to stay out of the death cult his mother's in." Jason says softly. The Bats sqawk as they Just realize Danny froze their feet to the floor. Mortal tools and fire can't break/melt his ice, but it's amusing to watch the bats try.

Tim is quiet for nearly 3 whole minutes, locked in some sort of internal battle, before he answers. "Maim in a, at least mostly, healable way. Gotham needs Batman, even if we don't."

"Hmm." Danny ignores the Bats' protests to think about what he should do. "Ah! I know exactly what to do!"

He unfreezes their feet and gently forces both to the ground and processes to break both of Nightwing's legs and both of Batman's arms. He pulls one of their coms off and hands it to Tim, he's the only one that sounds normal on normal tech. Jason hasn't been able to use normal tech since Danny fixed his ecto, so Danny modifies anything he or Jason use.

"Hi, Agent A! Batgirl!" Tim's cheerful tone barely hides his seething rage. "You should send a pick up for Dickiebird and B-man! They need medical attention! Ba-bye~!"

Danny can hear the shouting over the com, but Tim simply yeets it towards the Bats instead of listening to whatever they have to say.

"I have a reason for the injuries I picked." Danny informs the room. Jason and Tim look intrigued, Constantine looks exhausted and slightly guilty about the Bats getting hurt on his watch, and the Bats themselves look dazed and in pain, so who knows if they'll remember his reasonings. "Nightwing is an acrobat and truly a bird, so grounding him is cruel, but hopefully he feels as small and helpless as you both did. Grounding him will give him time to think on his actions and their consequences."

Danny's sons look curiously at the grounded Nightwing before looking back to him.

"I broke Batman's arms so that he's forced to ask for help and communicate. He's far too old for his shitty behavior." Danny frowns. "They both need therapy, but I doubt the flying furries will actually get the help they need."

Tim suddenly cackles in delight. "Maybe THEY should check THEMSELVES into Arkham! Ya know! Since they think I, the one ACTUALLY getting help, should be in there!"

Jason starts cackling alongside his brother while Danny chuckles.

"I shall take my children home now, good day." Danny says while wrapping his sons in his invisibility and intangibility and takes them home. A cozy 3 bedroom apartment on the top floor of a building Jason owns as Red Hood.

[tender-rosiey]

“A BIT GENTLER, PLEASE?”

— gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna feeling their baby kick (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

satoru was always all over you, one clingy and affectionate husband.

truthfully, while you would like to say that he is annoying and is making you regret ever getting pregnant, you have to admit that he makes being pregnant a lot easier to endure. his light-hearted way of speaking puts you at easy somehow.

he also made it very obvious that he is excited for the baby, maybe even more than you’re. one of the many ways he shows his enthusiasm is through buying baby clothes and baby equipment and I mean a shit ton of them.

that’s why you’re not surprised when he enters the house with yet another batch of baby clothes, “wifey, I am home!”

you get up and waddle your way to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “what did you get this time?”

“I thought you would never ask,” he smirks before pulling out each and every one of the outfits he got.

you’re sat on the couch with a cup of your favorite warm drink as you listen to his rambles, “first off, I got this really cute blue dress! call it a dad’s instinct but I think she will have my gorgeous eyes,” he grins.

you nod absentmindedly as he continues, “second, I got this yellow jump suit? overalls? dungarees?” he switches his accent in the end and you roll your eyes. he resumes, “eh, I don’t care, but it’s pretty so who cares?”

he puts the clothes aside before kneeling in front you, hand resting on your stomaxh, “right, baby?” he coos, “daddy’s going to get you all the pretty outfits you want!”

you’re about to drift to sleep while your husband busies himself with the baby, but you’re quickly brought back to consciousness when you feel her kick against your stomach.

your husband’s gasp quickly follows after before he presses his ear to your stomach, “can you do that again for me, pretty?”

his other hand moves to hold your own and he guides your hand to his hair, “somehow, this is making me realize just how close she is to finally join us, right, wifey?”

“right, ‘toru,” you smile softly and he quickly starts peppering your face with kisses, murmuring about how his pretty wife is simply irresistible.

NANAMI KENTO:

whenever someone asks you about kento, you can’t find the words to stress just how much of a sweetheart he is. he was always a caring and attentive man.

yet, somehow it amplified after your pregnancy: he helps you rest as much as he can, cooks for you, and gets you all the snacks you would like.

you also remember the first time you told him that your feet hurt, and he ended up massaging it for you. you cried that day.

in summary, he never left you in need of anything, like right now for example.

“y/n, would you like anything else?”

a dopey smile is plastered on your face as you relax further in the cushions, feet propped up on the pillow your sweetheart of a husband got.

he places your favorite snacks right by your side. you cup his face and press a lingering kiss on his cheek, “no, thank you, kento.”

he nods and takes a seat beside you. he takes your hand into his and starts rubbing your hand, “we should start preparing the baby’s room,” he murmurs softly.

you nod, head resting on his shoulder, “you’re right. we need to welcome our little princess well.”

he chuckles and his hand moves to rest on your stomach, “I assembled the crib already so that’s something to be proud of.”

nanami’s arm is wrapped around your shoulder and you snuggle closer into his chest, giggling, “my strong, independent, and reliable husband,” you sigh happily, “whatever will I do without you?”

he half-heartedly rolls his eyes, “flattery is getting you nowhere.”

“but it does!” you laugh and he lightly tickles you. your hand rests on your stomach, alongside his. you smirk, “what do you think, baby? is mommy right?”

to your absolute delight, the little girl kicks against your womb making you squeal and instantly look at your husband, “kento, did you feel that?!”

“…yeah,” his face is one of awe. she kicks once again and nanami can’t help but press a kiss to your stomach, “looks like she is a strong, healthy baby.”

 “just like her dad,” you chuckle but stop to think about it for a moment before concern over takes your face.

nanami’s gaze quickly snaps to you, “what’s wrong?”

“if she will be as strong as you then god help my uterus.”

GETO SUGURU:

geto gets a little busy at times, but he does do his best to make time for you.

in addition to that, nanako and mimiko love hanging out with you so it kind of puts him at ease, knowing that you’re accompanied by someone.

today, he was doing some of his usual works in the establishment? shrine? eh whatever.

no fiber of his being expected the girls to burst into the room, grins filling their faces, as they urgently call him, “geto-sama! you have to see what just happened!”

with no hesitation, he abandons the followers and quickly follows the girls. he asks them, voice laced with concern, “is y/n okay? did something happen?”

the girls giggle as they finally near your room. mimiko speak up, “she is okay! but something important really did happen!”

somehow, it sends geto more into panic, because just what happened and why is it so important to the point they had to call him?

after a while, they are finally there, and geto wastes no time in sitting by your side, hands and eyes inspecting your body for an injury.

you giggle, “’calm down, suguru,” you take his hand and guide it to your stomach, “can you feel it?”

“feel it? what do you mean—“ he pauses upon the little kick against his palm. he smiles, actually grins, quietly before looking you in the eyes.

you nod with a smile of your own, while he leans down to kiss your stomach then your hand.

he rests his head against your stomach, “how are you, little buddy?”

geto chuckles softly, “better not cause trouble for your pretty mom,” his eyes lock with yours, “I hate to see her in pain or discomfort.”

you roll your eyes before patting your husband’s head, “you’re quite the charmer, aren’t you?”

“I would rather only charm you, y’know,” he chuckles.

the both of you completely forget about the pair of girls standing at the door way, each snapping a bunch of photos of the moment in front you.

nanako snickers a little before teasing, “that line was a bit cheesy, no?”

he quirks an eyebrow at them and they quickly flee away. with a soft sigh and a gentle chuckle, he goes back to admiring you, hand rubbing circles on your stomach.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

it’s safe to say that sukuna was surprised with the news of your pregnancy, but he came to terms with it quicker than you expected.

he just had to sit with himself a bit and understand that the ‘brat’ in you was his ‘brat’ as well.

he also found himself staring at your stomach longer than he would like. he started to really think about how life will go on from this point onwards.

he is a feared man, the king of curses, with no weaknesses to ever exploit.

that is until you came into his life. he grew fond of you and the rest is history. right now, though, you’re carrying his child.

after a long day, he finally enters your chambers and finds you fast asleep.

he guesses that carrying a child of his own must be more exhausting than that of a normal man. his feet take him to you and his figure towers over your sleeping form.

he watches your expression contort ever so slightly as you stir, perhaps in seek of your comfort.

he sits by your side and his hand traces your every feature, nails slightly grazing you but never hurting you. finally, it reaches your stomach and he frowns lightly.

he sighs, “just what the hell am I going to do with you?”

he feels a light kick against his palm.

his eyes widen at the movement and his hand involuntary presses against your stomach once more, wanting to feel the kick once again. he narrows his eyes, “what? you think that light kick is fit for the kid of the king of curses?”

as if understanding what he said, the baby delivers one rough and tough kick to your abdomen. you wince and whine at the pain, “sukuna, don’t be mean to the baby…”

“I am not trying to, woman,” he grumbles, “that kid is just short-tempered.”

sukuna is sporting quite the frown but it doesn’t stop his hand from massaging your stomach and you hum in content before sassing him, “oh wow, I wonder where did he get that from.”

you squeak as you feel a pinch to your side. you glare at sukuna who glares at you back before replying, “he got it from one stubborn woman who happens to be mine.”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[geminiwritten]

baby sister ; jake 'hangman' seresin

fandom: top gun

pairing: jake x reader

summary: hangman has a serious crush on you, it might even be love, but it's a little complicated seeing as rooster is your older brother

notes: yes, i finally watched top gun (i'm stubborn, okay), and yes, i am obsessed! i'm not too sure how i feel about this, but it's my first one so please be kind! i also tried writing it by kind of switching pov's, so sorry if its weird / confusing! but as always, i love feedback so please, please let me know what you think x

warnings: swearing, very minor physical altercation with a creepy guy, boner joke, switching pov's (kind of), protective older brother, and likely some very inaccurate us navy details

word count: 7493

- One Year Ago -

The old bar smells exactly as you remember it; wood polish, worn leather, stale beer, and a hint of ocean air. It’s a lot cleaner than it used to be – the soles of your shoes aren’t sticking to the floor – and you assume that’s thanks to the new owner. It isn’t as busy as you would expect for Friday at 4PM, which you’re somewhat thankful for as you easily find a spare barstool beside the vacant pool table.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks with a polite smile.

“Just a water, please.”

He retrieves a bottle from the fridge below the bar while you check your pockets for cash, pulling out a few dollars and handing it to him in exchange for the water. He smiles again before turning around to serve patrons on the other side of the bar, and you start drawing shapes in the condensation of the bottle while you wait.

“This seat taken?” someone asks, appearing beside you.

Startled, you turn quickly to find a pair of green eyes much closer than expected. You’d have to be stupid not to immediately notice that this guy is gorgeous, but the smirk on his lips tells you that he knows it too.

“Not yet,” you reply with a tight-lipped smile.

He sits himself on the stool and signals the bartender, ordering a schooner of pale ale draught before pulling a few notes out of his back pocket. He isn’t in uniform, but you can tell by the way he holds himself that he’s an officer.

“I haven’t seen you around here before,” he says, “are you visiting?”

You nod before taking a large sip of water, your eyes constantly watching the new patrons that enter through the main door. You know better than to flirt with a lieutenant (guessing by his age), your mother always told you to stay away from military men.

“Have you been to North Island before?” he asks, seemingly unphased by your lack of enthusiasm for conversation.

“Yeah, a few times.”

“Military family?”

“Sort of,” you reply.

“Okay, let me guess,” he leans both elbows on the bar and looks at you, unleashing the full power of his pretty green eyes, “your dad was military, gone for months at a time with little to no contact, which left your mom to raise you all on her own. You would hear her crying at night and watch her struggle every day, but then when your dad got home, he was the hero; forget about all her hard work. Eventually, your mom got sick of being alone and began to resent him, so they grew apart and the next thing you know, dad moves out with his new girlfriend and mum tells you every single day never to date a man in the military.”

You can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips, because damn this man is pretty, and you simply can’t find it in yourself to ignore him.

“Close,” you say, “but it was her first husband who was military, and he died in action. My father was a banker, safe but boring, and it didn’t work out. But you are right about one thing; mom has always told me not to date a man in the military.”

“Oh,” he takes a long sip of his beer, stalling as he tries to think of something to say that isn’t totally insensitive.

“Not that I always listen to what she says,” you add with a smirk, making him choke on his mouthful of beer.

He looks back at you, shocked but still smiling, “Are you flirting with me?”

Your turn sideways on the stool to face him, opening your mouth to reply when a familiar sight walking toward you catches your attention. You stop and smile, looking straight past the man sitting beside you.

“Hey Baby,” Bradley says with a grin.

“Hey,” you jump off the stool, “how are you?”

“Woah, hey,” the green-eyed man stands too, a slight frown between his brows, "Rooster, c’mon man. You’re going to have to find yourself another girl; let’s not make this a competition too.”

Bradley’s brows shoot up toward his hairline, and you have to roll your lips to keep from giggling.

“Oh, here we go,” one of the men who walked in with Bradley chuckles, and you think you can remember meeting him the last time you visited.

“A competition?” Bradley repeats, his tone mildly threatening.

“Wait,” the man glances between you and Bradley, “are you two dating?”

Bradley scoffs, “Absolutely not.”

“Then why did you call her baby?”

“It’s her nickname, genius,” the same man as before says, and you suddenly remember Bradley introducing him to you last summer. You never did find out his real name, but they call him Payback.

The green-eyed man turns to you in shock, “Like, your call sign?”

You shake your head, “I don’t fly.”

“She wishes,” Bradley says as he slings an arm around your shoulders. “Hangman, this is Baby, as in my baby sister.”

The poor man chokes so hard on his beer, you’re surprised it doesn’t spray out his nose. He coughs and splutters, holding a hand on his chest while the rest of Bradley’s friends laugh from around the pool table. Bradley chuckles too, seemingly satisfied with the damage he’s caused, before turning to give you a proper hug.

“How was the flight?” he asks.

“Not terrible, but I swear my bag was the last to come out on the carousel.”

He releases you from his hold and orders two beers from the bartender, handing you one soon as its poured. “You remember my friends, don’t you?” he asks as he turns to face the game of pool, “Payback and Fanboy, and that’s Bob; I don’t think you met him last summer.”

You smile and give an awkward wave, not bothering to walk around and shake everyone’s hands in the middle of a game.

“Dude,” Fanboy says to Hangman, who is now standing on the opposite side of the pool table, “I can’t believe you were hitting on Rooster’s little sister.”

“Hey,” Hangman frowns, “she was hitting on me back.”

Bradley’s head whips toward you, his eyes wide, “You what?”

“Oh, calm down Braddy,” you say, “I can look after myself.”

Payback snickers, “Braddy?”

“Aw, Braddy,” Fanboy coos.

Bradley shoots you a glare as you slip out from under his arm to find a seat, grinning sheepishly at your brother as his friends continue to mock your nickname for him. After half an hour and two pool games – these guys are freakishly good – another two lieutenants join the group, introducing themselves as Coyote and Phoenix.

“So,” Phoenix says as she sits on the stool beside you, “what brings you to North Island, aside from missing your big brother?”

Even though Bradley’s back is to you as he takes a shot, you know he’s rolling his eyes.

“Well, I usually try and visit more than once a year, but he’s hardly been on the ground in the past twelve months,” you say, “then Uncle Pete called me a few weeks ago and said he was going on a trip with Penny. So, he asked if I could come babysit Braddy for a while.”

“Aw,” she giggles, “Braddy needs a babysitter?”

Bradley flicks your arm as he walks past, circling the pool table to find the best angle, “Would you stop telling people embarrassing shit about me.”

You shrug, “How was I supposed to know that you were pretending to be cool?”

The rest of the group laugh as Bradley completely botches his shot, sinking the white ball.

“I’m sorry, Rooster, but I definitely like her better,” Hangman says with a smirk.

You roll your lips as you look over at the lieutenant, appreciating how tight his t-shirt is as he bends forward over the pool table to take his shot.

Bradley points at him, “You better cut it out, she is off limits.”

- Present -

You decided to move to San Diego about two weeks after flying in last summer, and it had nothing to do with the beach day you went on with Bradley and his friends, where Jake tackled you in the surf, all shirtless and wet and muscly. Bradley was beyond excited to have his little sister closer to him, he even helped get you a desk job in the operations department. It wasn’t anything close to what he was doing, protecting the country and all that, but you’re liking it way better than your old job. Which again, has nothing to do with the fact that you get to take lunch breaks with a certain lieutenant. Your brother is there too, but you don’t fancy staring at him, you’ve seen enough of him over the years.

“Are you going to eat or stare?” Natasha asks, nudging your side with her elbow.

The mouthful of pasta that had been balancing on your fork falls off and plops back into your bowl. You turn to her, your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”

“My God, you’re practically drooling.”

“Is the pasta good?” Jake asks, clearly having overheard and misunderstood your conversation, “I knew I should have chosen that; the sloppy joes are too sloppy.”

He leans across the table and takes your fork, stabbing it into a few pieces of pasta before popping it in his mouth. Your heart thuds in your chest as you watch his lips wrap around the utensil that was previously in your mouth, and you want to be ashamed of yourself for allowing something so frivolous to get you so excited, but you simply can’t help it. With your brother the constant cock-block always hanging around, sharing a fork is the closest you’ve gotten to Jake in the year that you’ve been here.

“Mm,” he groans, “that is good.”

“You can have it,” you push the bowl toward him, “I’m not that hungry.”

“Yeah, and you just contaminated her fork,” Bradley says, smacking Jake’s shoulder.

“I don’t think she minds,” Natasha pipes in.

Oblivious, Jake looks up with a huge mouthful of pasta making his cheeks puff out, and somehow, he still looks adorable. You shoot a subtle glare at Natasha from the corner of your eye before picking up the apple from your tray and biting into it.

“So,” you turn your attention to your brother, “The Hard Deck after work?”

He nods, “Yep, I’ve got a year of free beers to win.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, “It’s cute that you think you have a chance of winning in a pool comp against me.”

“Or me,” Jake adds.

Bradley snorts, “Please, you’ve been so off your game lately, and Phoenix” – he turns to look at her – “is good, but not as good as me.”

“You are so full of yourself, do you know that?” Natasha says, her eyes narrowed at Bradley.

You quickly tune out as they launch into a petty argument about who is better at pool and who is going to win The Hard Deck’s billiards tournament, having heard it almost a hundred times over the past month. It’s an eight-week competition, every Thursday night, and this is only the fifth week but you’re pretty sure you’re going to kill your brother if he doesn’t stop bragging about being undefeated so far. Then again, he hasn’t yet had to play against half of the dagger squad, arguably the best pool players on North Island.

“Alright, we better go,” Bradley says, nudging Jake again.

Jake scrapes the last of the pasta from the bowl into his mouth before standing from his chair and leaning across the table toward you. “Thanks Baby,” he says with a wink, “I owe you one.” He drops the empty bowl on your tray and slides your tray across the table, stacking it on top of his.

When he straightens up, both trays in his hands, Bradley is glaring. “Watch it, Seresin.”

“What? I was just thanking her,” Jake says innocently, “don’t get your panties in a knot.”

You roll your eyes and stand up from your chair, “See you guys later, then?”

Jake can’t help himself, and he turns toward you wearing his most charming grin, “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Dude!” Bradley exclaims, smacking him in the shoulder.

Natasha sighs, despite the amused smirk on her lips, “Come on you two, fight about it later.”

You roll your lips to keep from giggling, because you know that will only irritate Bradley more, but you’re pretty sure your cherry red cheeks are about to give something away. Before your brother can notice the way Jake’s words have affected you, you turn on your heel and head back toward your office, anticipation bubbling in your stomach for tonight.

- Jake -

Maverick ended today’s training half an hour early, dismissing everyone but Rooster since he still had sixty-two push ups to do after betting that he could catch Phoenix and Bob before Mav could. He was wrong, but Jake admires the cockiness.

The rest of the squad have already made their way to the locker rooms, eager to shower and change and get to The Hard Deck for a well-earned drink. There’s no current mission for the dagger squad, no impending doom, so that on top of the excitement for the billiards comp has everyone in the highest of spirits. Everyone but Jake, of course.

He’s the last to enter the locker room, dragging his feet and slowly unzipping his flight suit as he weaves through the rest of the boys toward his locker. He isn’t sad by any means, just frustrated, because it seems that the longer you live in San Diego, the more protective your brother gets. His rule about you being off limits isn’t easing any time soon, and neither is Jake’s crush.

“What’s the matter with you?” Coyote asks, shoving his flight suit into his locker right beside Jake’s.

“Hm?” Jake looks up from his feet, “Oh, nothing, just distracted.”

Payback peers around from the other side of Coyote’s locker, his lips curled into a smirk, “So, how’s that hideously inappropriate and all-consuming crush on Rooster’s little sister going?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” Jake says sarcastically, “I should be ready to kill myself any day now.”

The rest of the boys dissolve into laughter, each pausing in various stages of undress to giggle about Jake’s unfortunate situation. Everyone but Rooster and Phoenix know at this point, having easily figured it out by the way Jake can’t seem to focus anytime you’re in the same room, and thankfully, none of them plan on outing his little secret anytime soon. Jake likes to think it’s because they’re afraid that Rooster might shoot the messenger, and while that might be a small part of it, he knows it’s really because they feel sorry for him. The first girl who Hangman actually wants something real with, and it’s the little sister of Bradley Bradshaw.

However, Jake is surprised that Phoenix hasn’t yet figured it out, but grateful nonetheless, since she’s way too close to you to have that kind of ammunition under her belt. There have been a few times where he thought she might be onto him, little glances at you whenever he gets too flirty and subtle comments that could have underlying meanings, but she hasn’t confronted him about it yet, so he assumes she’s just as clueless as Rooster is.

“Come on, Hangman,” Fanboy says from the opposite row of lockers, “it can’t be that bad.”

“You want to bet?” Jake asks, glancing over his shoulder. “I got half a bar at lunch today because I used the same fork as her.”

The laughter, having died down for a moment, picks up again with renewed vigour. Even Bob, who is usually quiet and refuses to comment when the boys start teasing Jake about his crush, is giggling into his open locker, shoulders shaking.

“Oh, man,” Coyote says between fits of laughter, “you’re down bad.”

“What’s so funny?” Rooster asks, standing in front of the door as it swings shut behind him.

The laughter quickly subsides and everyone turns to hide their faces in their lockers, all but Jake who is left staring at Rooster’s quizzical frown.

“Coyote was just saying that he nearly soiled himself today when Mav pulled that cobra manoeuvre in front of him,” Jake lies, at which Coyote shoots him a glare.

Rooster chuckles, “Oh, really? I didn’t catch that.”

“Too busy running your mouth, Rooster,” Fanboy chimes in.

“Yeah, how’s your stomach after those two-hundred push ups?” Payback asks as he walks toward Rooster with an evil grin, reeling his fist back to strike his friend in the abdomen.

Rooster evades the attack, eyes wide, “Don’t even think about it, my abs are on fire right now.”

Jake relaxes as casual conversation picks back up; Rooster seemingly fooled by his lie as he jokes around with the rest of the squad. They all strip out of their flight suits and shower before changing into civilian clothes, packing their gear into their lockers, and heading out the door. Those who aren’t headed to The Hard Deck bid their goodbyes, while those eager for a beer begin making their way to the bar.

“Should we wait for the girls?” Jake asks as they walk toward Rooster’s car.

“Well, at least one of us has to,” Bob replies, glancing around the group of six.

Rooster tosses his keys in the air and catches them again in the palm of his hand, “Fight it out amongst yourselves boys.”

“It’s fine, I’ll wait for them,” Jake offers quickly.

Fanboy has to stifle his laughter behind his hand, pretending to rub his nose.

“That’s unlike you to be so obliging, Hangman,” Coyote says, his narrowed eyes telling Jake that he’s still bitter about being thrown under the bus earlier.

“I actually think I left my watch in my locker, so I have to run back anyway,” Jake lies again.

“Easy done,” Rooster, oblivious as ever, says, “climb on in fellas, I’m thirsty.”

The rest of the group all move toward Rooster’s car and pile in, while Jake turns his back and pulls out his phone to text Phoenix, asking her to wait for him if the two of you exit the locker room before he’s done ‘looking for his watch’.

More and more of late, Jake has been doing things that are ‘unlike him’ in order to gain more time with you away from your brother, the ever-present cock-block. It isn’t often that he has the chance, and he knows his behaviour is becoming noticeable, but until Rooster confronts him for trying to spend time with you, he’s going to keep trying.

He runs in and out of the locker room, simply to keep up the lie, before fishing his watch out of his pocket and strapping it to his wrist as he walks back toward the car park. He could recognise you from a mile away, all perfect and effortless, leaning casually against Phoenix’s car and twirling a stray piece of hair as Phoenix talks to you. The closer he gets, the more he can see that whatever Phoenix is saying is intense, and it’s making you nervous. Your hair twirling is less idle and more anxious as Phoenix stresses her words with her hands, looking exasperated.

A part of him wants to sneak up and try to catch the conversation, but before he can think too hard about how he could become stealthier, Phoenix spots him. “Come on Bagman, hurry it up!” she calls across the lot.

You glance over your shoulder, locking eyes with him and he simply cannot stop the grin that takes over his lips. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Trace,” he says, though his eyes never leave yours.

Phoenix scoffs, “What’s your obsession with panties today?”

When he comes within a few feet of you, he frowns and turns his attention to Phoenix, “What?”

“First Rooster at lunch and now me,” she says. “Are you not getting laid or something?”

The way her eyes drift over to you as she speaks, a smirk threatening to curl her lip, has Jake’s heart racing. Does she know? How could she know?

He clears his throat and wills himself to seem unaffected by her taunt, but whatever smart-lipped quip that he would usually respond with refuses to pop into his head. He panics, sweat prickling the back of his neck. Phoenix turns her attention away from you and back to him, her playful smile slowly fading as the silence stretches and he struggles to retort. If she didn’t know before, she definitely knows now.

“Oh, leave him alone, Nat,” your voice breaks the tension, “we all know Hangman has no trouble with the ladies.”

Phoenix shakes her head, as if needing the physical queue to stop her own spiralling thoughts. “So he tells us,” she says, grabbing the handle on the driver’s side door, “but I’m yet to witness his skills in action.”

She casts Jake one last dubious glance before opening the door and taking her seat behind the wheel. You turn to him then, your gaze holding him captive as you ask, “Do you want shotgun?”

He shakes his head, swallowing on his dry throat, “You take it, I’m good in the back.”

- You -

Jake looks like he’s seen a ghost as he stares out the window of the car, watching the Naval Air Station pass by as Natasha drives toward the exit gates. You can’t help glancing at him in the rear view mirror every few seconds, only able to see a portion of his side profile with the angle of the mirror, but it’s still enough to know that he doesn’t look normal.

As a matter of fact, Natasha looks a little odd too, as if she’s trying to silently solve a math problem in her head. Her eyes are narrowed, her brows furrowed, and her hands are holding the steering wheel tightly at ten and two. She too keeps glancing in the rearview mirror, whether looking at Jake or simply checking the traffic, you can’t tell, but her shoulders stay tense and her lips pressed firmly together.

“So,” you say, swivelling in your chair to properly look at Jake, “how was flight school?”

His face breaks into a soft smile and your pulse triples its speed, your heart thundering in your chest as you stare into his pretty green eyes. “I graduated flight school a while ago, darlin’,” he says.

You love when he uses a pet name other than your nickname, because ‘baby’ just doesn’t have the same ring when its something your whole family uses.

“I know, but I heard Maverick over the comms say that he was going to send the lot of you back to flight school.”

Jake chuckles, “You were listening on the comms?”

You shrug, “Sometimes I listen in, just to be nosey.”

You really only do it so you can enjoy Jake’s voice throughout the day, because something about Jake in that cockpit doing what he does best gets you incredibly hot and bothered. What can you say? You’re a masochist.

“Well, I better start watching my language,” he says, “or I can just tell Mav that you’ve been listening in.”

Your eyes widen, “You wouldn’t do that.”

His smile turns into a smirk, “You sure about that?”

All you want to do is crawl into the back seat and crush your lips against his. He looks good enough to eat right now, fresh from a shower, his damp hair a little spikier than usual, and his green eyes sparkling with mischief and something else you can’t quite place.

“Speaking of Mav,” Natasha pipes in, “he said he was going to stop by the bar tonight.”

Great, not only a brother but a cock-blocking uncle too. Well, uncle figure.

“Oh, fun,” you say, trying not to sound so sarcastic, but Natasha isn’t stupid. She catches your displeased tone and shoots you a knowing look, her lips now curled into a smug smile. At least she seems to have figured out her math problem.

A minute later, Natasha pulls the car into the gravel parking lot of The Hard Deck bar. She finds a park right next to Rooster’s car, and the three of you climb out in silence. You can hear the jukebox playing from outside as you approach the main door, Natasha in the lead and typing a message on her phone while you and Jake follow closely behind.

“Nervous?” you ask him, referring to the pool comp.

He chuckles, “Only because you’ll be watching, darlin’.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, their wings making you sick with nerves as they flutter violently. You want to reply, but your brain is complete mush as you stare back at his gorgeous grin, so all you can do is playfully roll your eyes and bump your shoulder against his.

The three of you enter the bar and make a beeline for the familiar faces seated at the booth closest to the pool table. The cues and balls are nowhere to be found, and there’s a sign written in black marker laying on the green felt that reads ‘POOL COMP IN SESSION, DO NOT TOUCH’.

Before you can reach your brother and the rest of the squad, Natasha grabs your hand and tugs you toward the bar. “Want a drink?” she asks, moving too quickly for Jake to follow.

You glance over your shoulder and watch him watch you with a confused frown as he takes a seat at the booth with the rest of the group. Natasha pulls you a decent way away from the squad, finding an open space at the bar and leaning against it, but she doesn’t flag down Penny or Jimmy.

“I think Seresin likes you,” she says, her voice low and eyes wide.

Your stomach does a somersault, “What?”

“I can’t believe it took me this long to figure out, but” – she smacks her hands on the bar emphatically – “he really likes you.”

“Is that why you were so tense before?”

“Yes, because I-”

“Hey ladies,” Penny interrupts, an easy smile on her lips, “what are we drinking tonight?”

“Hey Penny,” you muster your best I’m Totally Not Freaking Out Right Now smile, “two schooners of the pale ale, please.”

She nods once and fills two schooner glasses, sliding them across the bar and taking the cash from Natasha’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks Penny,” Natasha says, before taking a big gulp from her glass.

You tip your own drink to your lips and drain half of it, plonking it back down and wiping the foam from the tip of your nose before turning back to your friend. “You were saying?”

“Before, when he came up to us in the parking lot,” she explains, “I made some stupid joke about him not getting laid and I looked at you, because duh, but so did he.”

You frown, “And?”

“And he looked totally panicked.”

“Maybe he was just embarrassed.”

She rolls her eyes, “That wasn’t embarrassment, he looked like I’d just outed his biggest secret, and he didn’t even comeback with some stupid, sarcastic comment.”

You sigh, “Nat, I love you, but I think you’ve gone insane. Jake doesn’t see me as anything more than Bradley’s baby sister, he’s probably just fried from work and couldn’t think of anything on the spot.”

“You’re never going to believe me, are you?”

You shrug, “Probably not.”

“Okay, fine,” she picks her drink up and steps back from the bar, “I’ll find a way.”

She starts walking back toward the booth where the rest of the squad are, and you quickly pick up your own half-empty schooner before following her with an amused smile on your lips. Natasha is anything if not determined.

- Jake -

Jake releases the breath he’s been holding from the moment Phoenix dragged you away from the group, toward the bar. He can’t remember the last time he felt this nervous, his sweaty palms pressed against his jean-clad thighs as he watches the two of you approach the booth. He has no idea what Phoenix just told you, and he has no idea if Phoenix really knows what he thinks she knows, but his nerves are firing on every cylinder regardless.

“This seat taken?” you ask him as Phoenix takes the spare spot beside Bob.

He shakes his head, “All yours, darlin’.”

“Careful, Hangman,” Fanboy chuckles, “don’t want Rooster hearing that.”

Jake rolls his eyes, forcing his demeanour to appear relaxed, “Rooster’s all talk.”

“That so?” Rooster asks, stepping up to the booth with a tray of beers.

Laughter rumbles through the group.

“I guess we’ll find out later tonight,” Phoenix chimes in, “you two are versing each other in the second game.” She slides the schedule for tonight’s games across the table toward Jake, pointing at the names beneath ‘Game #2’.

“I guess we will,” Jake says, plastering on his cockiest smirk.

Rooster rolls his eyes before turning to find a spare chair, since both sides of the booth are very full. On one side, Coyote, Bob, and Phoenix are sitting side by side, and on the other is Payback, Fanboy, Jake, and you pressed firmly against Jake’s side. He doesn’t mind, of course, because your leg is warm against his, and with his arm slung over the back of the booth, you fit almost perfectly against his side. In fact, he’s surprised Rooster hasn’t said anything yet.

After two rounds of beer and a lot of banter, it’s time for Jake and Rooster to compete. Penny calls them over to the table and sets it up, handing each of them a cue before rattling off the rules as she did before the first game. They flip a coin and Rooster calls heads, but tails lands face-up and Jake gets to break.

He can hear his heartbeat in his ears as he lines his cue up with the white ball, a small voice at the back of his head demanding he look cool since you were a mere three feet away, watching. He takes a deep breath, reminding himself that this is an easy game, before releasing his shot and sending the balls scattering.

The game begins smoothly, each of the lieutenants lining their shots up with precision and hitting the balls with calculated force. They each sink a few, and at about halfway through, the game is tightly tied.

“Come on, Seresin,” Rooster mutters as Jake bends over for his next shot, “what does it take to make you crack?”

Like the idiot he is, Jake lets his eyes wander away from the white ball and across the green felt until they find you, still sitting at the booth on the opposite side of the pool table. Without thinking, his back hand jabs the cue forward, but without his full focus, it knocks the white ball on a short and wobbly path toward nothing in particular.

The spectators give a sad ‘ooh’ as Jake sighs, and Rooster smirks, “Now who’s all talk?”

Jake only shakes his head and moves away from the table. Since the white ball hadn’t made it all that far, Rooster positions himself almost exactly where Jake had been, bending over the table a little further and aiming his cue at the white ball. He focuses for a moment, scanning the constellation of balls across the felt before he glances up and notices you. From where he’s positioned, he is looking directly at you, exactly as Jake had been when he fumbled his shot.

Rooster’s smirk drops and his gaze moves slowly toward Jake, his knuckles turning white as his grip on the cue tightens. Jake’s heart crawls up into his throat, his palms sweating as he stares back at Rooster. Did he just figure it out?

Rooster takes the shot and sinks two balls before repositioning himself and sinking another one. His next shot puts the white ball in an awkward spot for Jake, and he fumbles again. He’s lost all focus, unable to see anything but your gorgeous face or your brother’s murderous one.

After ten more minutes, the game is over and Penny is announcing Rooster as the winner. Jake isn’t knocked out of the competition, but he doesn’t have to play again tonight, which he is more than grateful for.

“Alright, Rooster,” Penny says, “you’ve got five minutes and then it’s you and Fitz.”

Jake finishes his beer before quickly excusing himself to the men’s room, avoiding eye contact with every member of the squad as he hurries through the bar. Once in the safe confines of a bathroom stall, he covers his face with both of his hands and sighs, loudly.

After everything – all the stolen glances and subtle flirting, every excuse to see you or talk to you – did Rooster really just figure it out in the middle of a stupid pool game?

“This is ridiculous,” Jake mutters to himself as he rubs his hands down his face.

He’s never felt this way about anyone before and he has no idea how to deal with it. The nerves are different than what he’s used to, it’s not like before a mission when he can channel his anxiousness into anticipation and put all his focus into being an expert pilot. Because he knows his jet inside out, and he knows the cockpit like the back of his hand, but this? It’s all different. He doesn’t know what this feeling is because he’s only ever felt this strongly about one thing before; flying. But right now he’s pretty sure he would spend the rest of his life on the ground if it meant the rest of his life would be spent with you.

He stays in the stall for another few minutes, making sure Rooster’s second game of pool is well and truly underway by the time he exits the bathroom. The door to the men’s room has hardly swung shut behind him when Phoenix appears in front of him, startling him.

“Far out, can’t a guy catch a break?” he gasps.

“Were you in there crying about your defeat or just hiding from Rooster?” she asks, her expression deadpan.

He frowns, feigning confusion, “What? Why would I be hiding from Rooster?”

“Because you’re in love with his baby sister.”

The panic he had managed to subdue mere minutes ago returns with a vengeance, coursing through his veins like a thousand volts of electricity. He scrambles for a defence, words, anything. “W-Wha- Phoenix, I- you don’t-”

“Save it,” she interrupts him, rolling her eyes, “I’m not going to interrogate you or try to talk you into making a move.”

His tangled mind struggles to follow along, “Why would you-”

“He is,” she says, pointing at their captain who is sitting alone at the end of the bar.

Jake’s stomach flips, “He is what?”

“Going to talk to you.”

She grabs his wrist, the strength of her grip surprising him even though he knows she’s just as strong as he is. She drags him toward the bar where Maverick is sitting, sipping his beer and watching the pool competition with keen eyes.

“Evening, Captain,” Jake says, and he knows the moment it leaves his lips that he’s being unusually formal.

Phoenix rolls her eyes again, dramatically. “All yours, Mav,” she says, before turning on her heel and returning to the booth with the rest of the squad.

“Hangman,” Maverick says, a hint of a smirk on his lips, “take a seat.”

Jake swallows hard as he sits on the barstool beside his captain.

“You know,” Mav continues, “you haven’t addressed me as captain in a very long time.”

“Well,” Jake says, “it's never too late to make a good impression.”

Maverick chuckles quietly before tipping the last of his beer to his lips. When he puts the glass back down on the bar, Penny takes it, offering Jake a small, almost sympathetic smile as she does.

Mav turns on his stool to face Jake, “I’ve noticed you’ve been acting a little different lately. Want to talk about it?”

Jake clears his throat, “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Cap- uh, Mav.”

“You sure about that?” Maverick asks as he looks away from Jake, casting his gaze across the bar toward the booth where the dagger squad are seated. “If I had to guess, I’d say you’ve been acting strangely ever since Y/N moved here.”

Hearing your name is the closest thing to a prayer in Jake’s ears, because he is so used to hearing your nickname, that hearing your real name feels reverent.

He sighs, admitting defeat, “Who told you?”

Mav chuckles again, “Technically, Phoenix did, but no one had to tell me. I might be old, but I’m not stupid, and I’ve lived long enough to recognise the way you look at her.”

Jake frowns, “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“I was kind of enjoying the way you’ve been sucking up to Rooster,” Mav replies sheepishly, “letting him be team leader in all the mission simulations, buying him beers every weekend, and letting him win at pool of course.”

Jake can feel his cheeks burning, “I didn’t let him win, Mav, I just can’t focus when she’s around.”

Maverick claps a hand on Jake’s shoulder, leaning on him slightly as stands up. “Then stop being so scared of her big brother and do something about it, before someone else does.”

He nods toward the squad again before stepping back and walking behind Jake, around the bar toward the pool table. Jake’s eyes follow his captain as he circles the bar, stopping to watch the game of pool on the opposite side of the table to where the dagger squad are seated. When Jake’s eyes pass over the intense game between Rooster and Fitz, his breath catches in his throat.

- You -

You had gotten up to go to the bathroom when this man cornered you, stopping you on your way and trapping you against a wall on the other side of the booth. You’re pretty sure you’ve seen him around work, but you can’t be sure, because the only person you do recognise in the sea of naval uniforms on base is Jake. This man is not Jake, and that is one of the main reasons why you can’t be bothered to listen to a single thing he is saying.

“Do you think you’ll stay in San Diego for long?”

You look up at him, pressing your shoulder blades into the wall in an attempt to create more distance between you and him. “Um, probably,” you reply.

You glance quickly over your shoulder, for once wishing that your police dog of a brother would do what he does best and scare this man away, but he’s too focused on his pool competition.

“That’s great,” the man leans even closer, his breath wreaking of alcohol, “maybe we can get together sometime, alone.”

You press your lips into a tight smile, neither wanting to accept nor reject the man’s proposal in the current, vulnerable position in which he has you trapped. When he opens his mouth to speak again, a cheer erupts behind you and Penny announces Rooster as the overall champion of the night. You clap your hands and smile at your brother as he does a few dramatic bows.

You turn back to the man with your excuse for escape on the tip of your tongue, “I better go-”

“We should get some fresh air,” he says, grabbing one of your wrists in a vice grip.

Panic washes over you, a cold sweat breaking out across the back of your neck as he tugs on your arm. You stumble forward and glance over your shoulder, hoping that someone has noticed, but he chose the perfect time. The rest of the squad have rushed to the pool table, taking the cues from Penny to set up their own game while other pub patrons congratulate Rooster on his win.

Just as the man reaches the doors leading onto the beach, Rooster’s eyes find you. His grin vanishes and he quickly tries to step away from the crowd surrounding him, but Maverick appears at his side with a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. What the fuck?!

You watch Maverick say something to Rooster, who’s eyes then dart away from you and toward something across the bar, but before you can follow his gaze, the man tugs you out the door. The cool night air bites at your bear arms as you stumble down the wooden steps onto the sand.

“Much better,” the man says, finally releasing you.

You turn sharply to run back into the bar, but you only make it two steps before coming face to chest with someone else. You know who it is even before you look up to find a very concerned pair of pretty green eyes.

“Jake,” you breathe, your body relaxing as he wraps an arm around you.

The man steps toward you again, “Hey, what the-”

“What the fuck is your problem?” Jake exclaims. “Who the fuck do you even think you are dragging a girl out of the bar when she clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you?”

“I don’t recall hearing her saying no,” the man argues, puffing out his chest.

“Because you didn’t give her a fucking chance,” Jake spits.

He takes half a step forward, guiding you behind his body as the man grounds himself as if getting ready to throw a punch. Your stomach sinks and the lump in your throat doubles in size at the thought of Jake getting hurt for you. Just as you think the man is about to wind his arm back, his scowl shifts to something behind you and his jaw goes slack. Glancing over your shoulder, you see Javy and Reuben step out of the bar and your heart aches with fondness.

Without so much as another word, the man shoots Jake one last look before turning and walking away. Javy and Reuben chuckle to each other before stepping back inside the bar, leaving you and Jake alone on the sand.

“Hey,” he turns to face you, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you drop your gaze to your shoes, “sorry about that.”

He hooks a finger beneath your chin and tilts your head back up, “Don’t be silly, that was not your fault and nothing to be sorry about.”

Your heart is pounding in your ears, drowning out the music from the bar and the sound of waves crashing. All you can feel is Jake, close and comforting, and staring down at you as if he might want to kiss you too.

“Well,” you step toward him, as close as you can get without pressing your body against his, “then I’m sorry about what might happen to you after I do this.”

You curl your fingers into the material at the collar of his shirt and pull him forward, stretching up onto your toes to meet his lips with yours. He’s startled at first, but quickly responds, his hands grabbing your hips and pulling your body against his. He tastes like beer and spearmint gum, his lips soft as that move with yours, fitting together in the most perfect way. As you take a quick breath, his tongue slides past your lips and he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

You wrap your arms around his neck to hold yourself up, and just as his hands begin sliding down your hips, you’re both startled by a loud wolf whistle. You both turn toward the bar and see Mickey with his head out the window and a stupidly wide grin plastered across his face. The rest of the squad are all pressed against the glass, almost completely fogging it up as they cheer and wave.

“Oh, God,” Jake sighs, “Rooster is going to kill me.”

You can’t help but giggle, “Don’t worry, Hangman, I’ll protect you this time.”

Inside the bar, your brother turns to Maverick, having to look away as you pull Jake into another kiss. “You’re seriously okay with this?” he asks, “You’re okay with Hangman sticking his tongue down the throat of my baby sister?”

Maverick chuckles, “She’s not just your baby sister Bradley, and that’s not Hangman. That’s Jake and Y/N, and it looks to me like they might be in love.”

Bradley rolls his eyes and pretends to gag, deciding to ignore the scene on the beach and return his attention to the pool table. He knows deep down that Maverick is right, so he silently gives his blessing while starting a list in his head of what he will and will not allow the two of you to do in front of him.

END.

[shy9-29]

Project: Park Sunghoon

“she fell first, he fell harder,” - enhypen campus series

୨ৎ After their first date, you and Sunghoon slowly built something real—filled with quiet moments, lingering touches, and kisses that spoke louder than words. He never said much, but every look, every smile, and every soft “I love you” proved he was all in. ✉️ wc. 3.1k - quiet 박성훈 x talkative yn | READ PART 1 FIRST

🏷️ @fancypeacepersona @k1ttyjwon @m1kkso @enjakey @motherscrustytoenailclippings @dearestdreamies @wonuziex @jendeuke-bae @haerni @koizekomi @mariegibeau @sheseung @httpenhoon @sievenderz @rikifever @skzenhalove @chvconn3 @wonzzziezzzz @blvengene @gvtdoll @a3r4-for3ver @sunghoon-cam @luvksnn @aaaaarmiiiiin @bloomiize @starnaris @pinknjm @marimariiisblog @blckorchidd @doririsstuff @tobiosbbyghorl @aeminju @blueserpent1 @aheewonenthusiast @katarinamae @aheewonenthusiast @rhinoracha

The conversation lulled back into the quiet rhythm of the evening, the soft clinking of silverware and distant chatter from other tables filling the gaps. You found yourself lost in the peacefulness of it, the unexpected calm that came with being with Sunghoon. It wasn’t like the dates you had imagined, with awkward silences or forced attempts at conversation. No, this felt… different. Comfortable. Still a little new, but not uncomfortable.

And then, almost out of nowhere, Sunghoon spoke up again.

“So… how’s your dad?” he asked, voice low but sincere. “I know you were rushing the other day because of him… is everything okay?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you were taken aback. Sunghoon wasn’t the type to dig deep into personal matters. At least, you didn’t think he was. But here he was, asking with a kind of quiet concern that made your chest tighten.

You smiled faintly, trying to push down the little wave of worry that always seemed to hit whenever you thought about your dad. “Yeah, he’s doing better. It was just a scare, but he’s stable now. Thanks for asking.”

Sunghoon nodded, his gaze soft as he listened intently. It was strange—how even in his silence, he somehow made you feel heard. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said quietly.

You couldn’t help but feel a little lighter, his genuine care reminding you of just how much he had been paying attention. Even when he wasn’t speaking, he was listening. It wasn’t something you were used to. The way he saw you—fully and quietly—was starting to feel more like a gift than anything else.

There was another pause between you two, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind. It was the kind that came with understanding, with trust. And just as you were about to say something, Sunghoon caught your eye and gave you a small, reassuring smile.

“Really, though,” he added, his voice still soft but with a hint of something else—maybe a little relief. “If you ever need someone to talk to… you can always talk to me.”

Your heart did a small flip at the sincerity in his words. You were so used to talking to Stella, Sunoo, and everyone else about your dad, but Sunghoon was different. The way he said it made you feel like he meant it—really meant it.

You didn’t know how to respond to that, so you simply nodded, your own smile gentle. “Thanks, Sunghoon. I appreciate it.”

For a moment, the quiet between you two didn’t feel so heavy anymore. Instead, it felt like something you could both share—slowly, surely, one moment at a time.

So that’s what you did.

Through the summer, all you did was talk. You talked about everything—stupid things, serious things, things you hadn’t even realized were weighing on you until he looked at you with that quiet patience that said go ahead, I’ll be here. And he listened. Always listened. Sometimes he’d raise an eyebrow and hit you with a dry, borderline judgmental “really?” that made you laugh too loud, but that was about the most dramatic reaction you’d get from him. Still, it was enough.

You found yourself gravitating to his place more often than not. Not because you didn’t love being at home or with Stella or Sunoo—but because Stella had a very bad habit of inserting herself into every single moment between you two. One time she handed Sunghoon a fake engagement ring “just in case,” and you were still recovering from the secondhand embarrassment.

So Sunghoon’s apartment became a quiet little bubble of peace. Your peace.

And the first time you stepped into Park Sunghoon’s place, it was—

Wow.

Minimalist. Clean. Not overly sterile, but everything had its place, its vibe. Warm light spilled across soft gray walls and wooden floors. His bookshelves were filled with neatly organized psychology books, a random snow globe collection you absolutely did not expect, and a few faded photo booth strips tucked into the corner of a corkboard. The air smelled faintly of fresh laundry and cedar.

You just stood there in the doorway for a second, blinking. “This is… not what I expected,” you said slowly, toeing off your shoes.

Sunghoon, already heading to the kitchen, raised a brow. “What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Skater boy chaos. A dark cave. You, sleeping on a mattress on the floor with no bedframe.”

“Why does everyone think I live like a stray cat?” he muttered.

You grinned and dropped your bag on the couch, already making yourself at home. “Because you have the personality of one sometimes.”

And he just shook his head, fighting a smile, and disappeared into the kitchen—where you would soon follow, probably talking his ear off the entire time.

Just like always.

Things with Sunghoon were… slow. Like, glacial.

It had already been a month since that first date. A full four weeks of library meetups that turned into late-night takeout on his couch, shared playlists, accidental naps beside each other, and you—talking more than ever. He’d always listen, always be there, sometimes with that unreadable expression, sometimes with a hidden smile, and sometimes with those rare but deadly one-liners that made your heart do weird things in your chest.

But the most you’d gotten?

Hand-holding.

Once.

And even that felt like a fever dream. You were walking back to his place late one night after getting boba, and the streets were quiet in that eerie way—dark, empty, too still. You weren’t scared-scared, but you had clutched your tote bag a little tighter and stepped a little closer.

Without saying anything, Sunghoon had just… reached over and grabbed your hand. Not in a dramatic way. Not even in a nervous way. Just calm and casual, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your brain had short-circuited.

You remembered staring at your joined hands like it was some foreign object. His palm was warm, fingers longer than yours, steady and grounding. And then—just as quietly—he kept walking like nothing happened. He didn’t even look at you.

He didn’t let go until you were standing outside his apartment.

And that was it. That one time.

No kisses. No cuddles. No “are-we-actually-dating” talk. Nothing.

Just you, absolutely losing your mind alone in your room later that night, texting Sunoo and Stella in all caps like, HE HELD MY HAND I REPEAT CONTACT HAS BEEN MADE.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon texted you:

let me know when you get home safe

And then: and charge your phone next time. it was at 2%.

Classic. Park Sunghoon.

A boy who listened. A boy who cared.

A boy who was driving you insane.

It had been brewing for days.

Maybe even weeks, if you were being honest. That quiet, crawling frustration that came with almost. You were always almost touching, almost kissing, almost something more than whatever this slow-burn nightmare was.

And tonight? Tonight was your villain origin story.

Because Park Sunghoon stood in his kitchen, sleeves rolled up, black apron tied around his waist, casually stirring ramen like he didn’t just look criminally attractive. The dim kitchen light hit the curve of his jaw way too well, and his glasses kept sliding down the bridge of his nose in a way that should’ve been illegal.

And there you were—sitting on his counter like a pathetic little extra in your own love story, watching him exist and trying not to explode.

You crossed your arms. Uncrossed them. Crossed them again.

He looked up, noticed your silence, and cocked his head slightly. “You okay?”

That did it.

“No,” you said, sharp and sudden.

He blinked, surprised. “No?”

You hopped off the counter, suddenly filled with chaotic, unhinged bravery. “No, Sunghoon. I’m not okay. I’ve been coming here for weeks, we talk, we eat, you touch my hand once like we’re in a coming-of-age indie movie and then go right back to acting like we’re not clearly into each other—are we into each other? Actually, screw it. What are we?”

The room fell dead silent.

Sunghoon froze with the ladle halfway out of the pot, his lips parted slightly like his brain was buffering.

You stared at him, heart pounding in your throat, adrenaline burning hot in your cheeks. “Seriously. I need to know. Because I can’t keep doing this ‘slow burn friends but maybe not but maybe yes’ thing. I’ve been patient. But I’m not a psychic. I can’t keep guessi—”

And then he kissed you.

No warning. No slow build. Just one hand cupping your jaw as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up mid-rant.

You froze. Breath caught. Time stopped.

When he pulled back, his voice was quiet, steady. “There. Does that answer your question?”

You blinked at him, stunned silent for the first time in your life.

He raised an eyebrow. “You were saying?”

You swallowed. “I—um. I don’t remember.”

He gave a rare, satisfied smile and turned back to the stove. “Good. Want eggs in your ramyeon?”

You stared at him. “You’re so lucky you’re cute.”

He didn’t look up, but you heard the smile in his voice when he replied—

“I know.”

Sunghoon wasn’t great with words. He never had been.

You’d picked up on that early—how he’d go quiet when things got too serious, how he’d watch you more than speak, how his feelings lived in the way he looked at you rather than the things he said. But you didn’t mind. Because somewhere along the way, you realized that with him, silence wasn’t cold. It was safe.

And instead of talking, Sunghoon kissed you.

You slipped on Sunghoon’s hoodie, the fabric swallowing you whole. It was too big—way too big—but it felt comforting, warm, and somehow, it smelled like him. The way it hung off your shoulders, the sleeves so long that you had to roll them up just to use your hands, made you feel oddly protected, like you were wrapped up in his world.

You walked into the living room, ready to hang out, when you saw him sitting on the couch. His eyes flicked over to you, immediately catching the sight of you in his hoodie. His gaze lingered, and for a moment, the usual silence between you two seemed to stretch just a little longer than usual.

Then, without a word, Sunghoon stood up, the space between you two shrinking rapidly. His hand brushed a loose strand of hair from your face, and his fingers lingered along your jaw.

And before you could say anything, he kissed you.

It wasn’t slow or hesitant. It wasn’t soft and shy. It was urgent, like he’d been holding back for too long. His lips were warm, sure, confident as they pressed against yours, the weight of his kiss pulling you closer, making you forget about the awkwardness that had once lingered between you two.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched yours, soft but intense. “You look better in my hoodie than I do,” he muttered, voice low, as if the kiss had left him breathless.

You blinked, still reeling from the sudden kiss. “What?”

He kissed you again, just as quickly, cutting off your words. When he pulled back this time, he gave you a small, teasing smile. “You just look… good. In general. Always.

You couldn’t find words. All you could do was smile back, your heart pounding in your chest.

As time went on, Sunghoon started to shift, just a little. He still wasn’t exactly a fountain of words, but something had changed between the two of you. Maybe it was the way you both learned each other’s rhythms, the comfortable silence that stretched between you two like a blanket that fit just right.

At first, it was small things. He’d sit a little closer to you on the couch. His hand would brush against yours in a casual, almost absent way, but his fingers would linger, just long enough for you to feel the quiet weight of his touch. Then, one evening, when you were watching something, he simply leaned his head onto your shoulder. He didn’t say a word, didn’t even acknowledge it. He just rested there, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You froze for a moment, unsure how to react. But the longer he stayed there, the more you realized how much you liked it. It wasn’t anything grand or over-the-top. It wasn’t even that much of a gesture in the grand scheme of things. But to you, it meant everything.

The next time you were sitting on the couch, reading something on your phone, he just draped his arm around your shoulders. Not asking for permission, not needing to say anything—he just did it. And when you didn’t pull away, he leaned in and kissed the top of your head, soft and fleeting, like he was testing the waters, seeing if you were okay with it.

And when you didn’t flinch, when you didn’t pull away, he started doing it more. He’d rest his head on your lap, your thighs, without so much as a word. Sometimes, he’d even tug you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist in an almost possessive way, but it wasn’t controlling. It was just him, wanting to be close. Wanting you to be close.

But even as he became more clingy, more affectionate, he still didn’t talk much. He didn’t need to. His actions were louder than his words ever could be.

You’d find yourself lying next to him, his arm around you, his chest pressed against your side. His breathing was steady, calming, and even though he didn’t say much, you could feel his presence in a way that words never managed to convey. And even in that quiet, you knew something was growing between you two. Something that was deeper than just hugs or casual touches.

It was the way he would lean into you when you were watching a movie, or the way he’d sneakily grab your hand when no one was looking, or the way he’d wait for you at the door when you were running late, without making a single sound, just quietly waiting for you to be ready.

And somehow, with every little moment, he became more yours. Even without speaking much, he was opening up to you in ways that were enough to make your heart swell. He was showing you that he cared in his own quiet way, and you didn’t need anything else.

It was a peaceful evening, and you were curled up on the couch with Sunghoon, your head resting against his chest. He hadn’t said much the whole night, but that was nothing new. Instead, the comfort of his presence, the warmth of his body against yours, and the sound of his steady heartbeat were more than enough. He was always like this, quiet but present, and in that silence, you found a kind of understanding that words could never quite capture.

You’d been texting Stella earlier, and she’d mentioned she was staying at Sunoo’s for the night. They were just friends, so you weren’t too concerned, but you did wonder why they hadn’t planned to stay out longer.

Either way, it was just you and Sunghoon now, and you didn’t want the night to end. You felt safe and content with him, wrapped up in his arms on the couch. The two of you were practically fused together, your legs tangled, his arm loosely draped over your waist.

You couldn’t help but feel a little giddy, like this was the moment you’d been waiting for. It wasn’t grand gestures or loud declarations—it was just the quiet comfort of being with him. You nestled in closer, the soft fabric of his hoodie brushing against your skin, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with words. You were happy just being.

But then, a loud noise from the front door jolted you both out of your little bubble. You lifted your head just in time to see Stella and Sunoo walking in, both looking a little surprised to see you and Sunghoon on the couch together.

“Wait, you guys are here?” Stella asked, her eyes flicking between you and Sunghoon, her voice tinged with confusion. “I thought you were… well, you know… doing your own thing tonight?”

You quickly sat up, realizing you must’ve looked a little too comfortable, probably too couple-y for them to walk in on. “I thought you were staying at Sunoo’s,” you said, trying to play it cool, but your cheeks were burning a little.

Sunoo, ever the curious observer, raised an eyebrow. “You two look like you’re about to fall asleep here. What’s going on?”

Before you could respond, Stella held up her phone with a sheepish grin. “I forgot my charger. Sorry for the interruption.”

You quickly glanced at Sunghoon, feeling a little awkward now that the moment had been interrupted. But when you looked at him, he was still calm, relaxed, as if nothing had changed. He just gave a small shrug, his usual quiet self.

“No problem,” he said simply, not really fazed. And somehow, his easy-going response made everything feel a little less awkward, even as Sunoo and Stella exchanged curious glances.

Stella dropped her bag by the door, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “Well, we’ll just leave you two to… whatever this is,” she said with a wink before grabbing her charger off the counter and heading upstairs with Sunoo.

You couldn’t help but laugh nervously as Sunghoon adjusted himself on the couch. The quiet between you was familiar, comfortable again, and though the moment had been interrupted, you knew the night was far from over. With Sunghoon, it never felt like things were rushed. Everything just seemed to fall into place when you were together, no pressure, no expectations.

You snuggled back into his side, and this time, the quiet between you felt even more peaceful than before.

The room was quiet again, the only sound the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional creak of the floorboards as Stella and Sunoo moved around upstairs. You had long since settled back into Sunghoon’s side, your body finally succumbing to the fatigue of the night. The warmth of his body and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest were so comforting that you couldn’t help but drift off, your head nestled against his shoulder.

You were dead to the world, completely asleep and oblivious to anything around you, but it wasn’t long before you started to feel a little… off. A weird sensation on your cheek made you stir, and when you wiped it away in your sleep, it was then you realized what had happened. You had dropped—right onto Sunghoon. You were drooling.

Your heart raced in your sleep, but you didn’t know why at first, until you heard a chuckle. A small, teasing sound that broke through the haze of your sleep.

“Y/N,” Sunghoon’s voice was soft, but playful. You could feel his fingers gently tapping your cheek, as if waking you from a pleasant, yet embarrassing slumber. “You’re drooling on me.”

You woke up with a start, eyes wide and hands flailing in panic, but all that happened was you flopped backward and accidentally bumped into the couch cushion.

“Wh—what?” you stammered, still half asleep, your face heating up in embarrassment as you realized what had happened. “Did I—? Oh my god, I did, didn’t I?”

Sunghoon was trying to hold back laughter, the sound of it bubbling up in his chest as he watched your sleepy confusion. You could see his lips twitching, the smallest of smirks threatening to break free.

With a mischievous glint in his eye, Sunghoon grabbed a pillow from the couch and swung it lightly at you, tapping your forehead. “You’re so cute,” he teased, his voice dripping with a mock-seriousness that you weren’t used to hearing from him.

That was all it took. You were suddenly wide awake, blinking furiously as you registered what had just happened. Sunghoon, the usually quiet and reserved Sunghoon, had playfully hit you with a pillow. And you were going to absolutely not let that slide.

You grabbed the nearest pillow you could find, your eyes narrowing in on him. “Oh, you did not just do that!” you said with mock indignation, then swung it at him as hard as you could.

Sunghoon yelped, stumbling back as the pillow made contact, and you felt a rush of satisfaction. But, in true Sunghoon fashion, he quickly recovered, a smile now fully breaking across his face as he held up his own pillow in defense.

The two of you continued to swat at each other, laughing and playing around. You’d never seen Sunghoon so open, so carefree. Every time your pillow connected with his arm or side, he’d laugh, his deep voice resonating through the room, and every time you missed, you’d both burst into even more laughter.

It wasn’t long before the two of you were sprawled out on the couch, still catching your breath between giggles. The soft sounds of your laughter filled the room, more natural, more in tune than you’d ever imagined it could be. For once, it felt like you weren’t just friends—you were something more, something that made the moment feel like it could last forever.

Sunghoon, who had been quietly watching you, his smile wide and unguarded, finally relaxed back against the couch, his arm slipping around you again. There was a beat of silence between you two, and then, unexpectedly, Sunghoon spoke.

“I love you,” he said, the words soft but undeniably real.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. The air seemed to shift, and for a moment, everything around you went quiet. The confession hung in the air like something both fragile and precious, and you didn’t quite know how to respond at first.

You looked up at him, your heart thudding in your chest. Sunghoon wasn’t usually so open, so this sudden vulnerability caught you off guard.

“I love you,” he repeated, his voice a little quieter this time, but just as certain.

A smile spread across your face, warm and real. “I love you too,” you whispered back, feeling your chest tighten in the best way.

And just like that, the awkwardness you thought might remain between you two vanished. You didn’t need to say anything more. Your hands found each other, your fingers intertwining naturally as you both settled back on the couch, the world outside forgotten.

You didn’t need grand declarations or dramatic gestures. With Sunghoon, it was enough that you knew—he loved you. And you loved him.

enhypen campus series

[amirasainz]

Hello, would it be alright if i requested an f1 x driver reader where the retired drivers like seb, kimi and jenson where they’re like grid dads for the reader

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💜

Always have her back

The paddock was unusually quiet for a Thursday, but Yn could feel the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders. She kept her head low, sunglasses shielding her tired eyes from the prying lenses of photographers. The echoes of last weekend’s race still rang in her ears—screeching tires, the sudden thud, Lando’s voice crackling over the radio, “It’s okay, it’s okay. I’m fine. Just unlucky, huh?”

But the media didn’t care about accidents or bad luck. They cared about headlines, and Yn had become their favourite target.

“Too emotional.”

“Not cut out for F1.”

“This is what happens when you let a woman race with the big boys.”

The words burned in her mind, each headline another jab at her confidence. She tried to shrug it off, but every question in the press conference, every snide comment from pundits, was like pouring salt into an open wound.

“Hey,” a soft voice called from behind her. She turned to see Charles, his green eyes filled with concern. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she lied, forcing a smile. “Just… long day.”

He wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t push. “We’re having dinner tonight. Come with us?”

She shook her head. “Not in the mood, Charles. Sorry.”

Charles watched her walk away, jaw tightening. This wasn’t right. None of it was. Lando had defended her countless times since the crash, even standing up to reporters, but they wouldn’t let it go. And Yn, the fiery, determined driver they all admired, was beginning to crumble under the pressure.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. His finger hovered over a familiar name before pressing the call button.

“Hello?” a calm voice answered.

“Seb, I need your help.”

---

By Friday morning, the paddock was abuzz with whispers. Reporters glanced at each other in confusion as Sebastian walked through the gates, a familiar smirk playing on his lips. But it wasn’t just Seb. Kimi followed close behind, his signature stoic expression making the cameras shy away from approaching him.

“Seb! Kimi! What brings you here?” Carlos greeted them with his usual grin.

“Came to see a friend,” Seb replied simply, eyes scanning the crowd.

“Did Charles call you?” Lando asked quietly, already guessing the reason for their unexpected visit.

Seb nodded. “How bad is it?”

“She’s holding up, but barely,” Lando admitted, guilt flashing across his face. “I hate that this is happening because of me.”

“Hey,” Seb placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.”

Kimi, who had been silent, finally spoke up. “Where is she?”

“Probably in the motorhome,” Charles answered as he joined them. “She’s avoiding everyone.”

Seb nodded. “Let’s go.”

---

Yn sat in the Red Bull motorhome, staring blankly at the coffee cup in her hands. The door creaked open, and she sighed, expecting another teammate coming to check on her.

“I’m fine, Max, really—” She froze when she saw who it was.

“Seb?” she whispered, blinking in disbelief.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted with a soft smile.

Before she could say anything, Kimi stepped in behind him, nodding in acknowledgment.

“What are you—how—” she stammered, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Charles called,” Seb explained, sitting down beside her. “He was worried about you. We all are.”

Yn bit her lip, trying to hold back the emotions she had been burying all week. “I’m fine,” she insisted weakly.

“Bullshit,” Kimi said bluntly, leaning against the wall with crossed arms.

Seb chuckled softly. “He’s not wrong.”

Yn let out a shaky breath. “It’s just… they won’t stop. I’ve tried ignoring it, but it’s everywhere. They keep saying I don’t belong here.”

Seb’s face softened. “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” she whispered. “Maybe they’re right. Maybe I’m not cut out for this.”

“Yn,” Kimi’s voice cut through the room like ice. “You’re one of the best drivers here. The media are just… a bunch of idiots who don’t know shit.”

Seb nodded. “Exactly. They’re vultures. They need something to pick at, and right now, that’s you. But that doesn’t mean they’re right.”

“But what if—”

“No,” Seb interrupted gently. “No ‘what ifs.’ You belong here, Yn. You’ve worked just as hard as anyone else. Harder, even.”

Her voice trembled. “It doesn’t feel like it.”

Kimi sighed, walking over to sit across from her. “Listen, I’ve dealt with the media my whole career. They’re going to say what they want, no matter what you do. Don’t let them win.”

Seb squeezed her hand. “You have to trust yourself. We do. Lando does. Every driver here knows you deserve that seat.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. “I just… I don’t know how much more I can take.”

Kimi’s eyes hardened. “Then we’ll make them stop.”

---

The press conference room was packed on Saturday morning. The usual questions about strategy and car performance were quickly overshadowed when Kimi was handed a microphone.

“Kimi, it’s surprising to see you here this weekend. Any particular reason?”

Kimi leaned forward, expression unreadable. “Yeah. Here for Yn.”

The room went silent. The reporter cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. There’s been a lot of discussion about her performance—”

“Discussion?” Kimi interrupted with a dry chuckle. “More like harassment.”

Another reporter chimed in, “Many believe that after last weekend’s collision, she—”

“Did her best,” Kimi shot back, eyes narrowing. “It was an accident. Happens to everyone.”

“But don’t you think—”

“No,” Kimi interrupted sharply. “I don’t think. I know. She’s a damn good driver. Better than half of you could ever dream of being.”

Seb, seated beside him, nodded in agreement. “You keep talking about her emotions, her being ‘too soft.’ Funny. She’s stronger than any of you. She’s here, facing all this crap, and still getting in that car every weekend.”

Kimi, never one to mince words, leaned closer to the microphone. “You’re all a bunch of cunts who can’t leave an innocent girl alone.”

The room gasped, whispers erupting across the room. But Kimi wasn’t finished.

“She didn’t do anything wrong. You did. So maybe, shut up and let her race.”

Seb, smirking, added, “Well said.”

---

Back at the Red Bull garage, Yn sat glued to the screen, tears streaming down her face. Charles, Lando, and Max sat beside her, all smiling softly.

“You see that?” Lando whispered. “They’ve got your back. We all do.”

Yn wiped her eyes, a small smile breaking through. “Yeah. I see that.”

Seb and Kimi returned shortly after, both looking smug.

“Feel better?” Seb asked.

Yn laughed through her tears. “A little. Kimi, you were a legend.”

“Counts,” Kimi corrected dryly.

Yn’s eyes widened. “You did not!”

Kimi shrugged. “They deserved it.”

Seb grinned. “Now, let’s get you back on track, yeah?”

Yn nodded, determination finally returning to her eyes. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

---

Race day arrived, and as Yn stepped into her car, the weight of the week’s pressure felt a little lighter. Because now, she knew—no matter what the media said, she wasn’t alone.

[rbfclassy]

more ex husband toji plsssss

BABY DADDY TOJI! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...nsfw and sfw headcanons of baby daddy!toji

INFO...baby daddy!toji x fem!reader, toji is also your ex husband, little bit of angst, some fluff, toxic!toji, reader and toji have a daughter, toji is a good dad, possessiveness, arguing, oral (f!receiving), p in v, mentions of marriage, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

baby daddy!toji who is quite literally annoying, always bothering you when he comes over to pick up his daughter. He’ll make jokes about you, constantly poke you. You swear he’s like a big man child

baby daddy!toji who constantly has women wrapped around his arm every few months, and as much as you tell him you don’t want your daughter around that he never listens to you because why would he?

baby daddy!toji who is also your ex husband, little do you know he always keeps his ring in his pocket

baby daddy!toji who still has a soft spot for you. No matter how many arguments or fights your guys get into he is always right behind you in every situation. You called him one night crying because you were stranded at a bar, scared. Toji nearly ran out the house barefoot to come and pick you up

baby daddy!toji who isn’t afraid to say you still look sexy to him. Hand always caressing your cheek before you swat it away and ask him, “don’t you got a girl?” Oh yeah, he does

baby daddy!toji whose relationships never last longer than 2-3 months because they’re simply not you. He knows he’ll never be able to replace you but he still tries (he ends up giving up)

baby daddy!toji who spoils his baby girl, buying her toys, clothes, shoes, whatever she wants. He loves seeing her cute smile and chubby cheeks because she looks just like you

baby daddy!toji who hates how toxic you and him are to each other which ultimately ended up in the downfall of your marriage. But besides that, you two were perfect together and he misses that

baby daddy!toji who loses his shit when he find out through gojo that you’re going on a date with someone. He pulls up to your house banging on the door before you swing it open. He’s barging in, slamming your door shut and y’all instantly get into a heated argument. “Don’t be slamming my doors, Toji! You don’t pay for shit in this house!” You yell, a scowl on your face. “I don’t give a fuck! When were you gonna tell me you were fucking somebody else?!” You weren’t even fucking the guy, you didn’t even get to go out on a date with him yet.

baby daddy!toji who let’s you go out on your date, but he knows he ruined your mood, mentally cursing at himself for being so possessive over you. He can’t help it. That’s why he’s texting you ‘even if we aren’t together you’re still mine’ while you’re on your date. He doesn’t give a shit if the guy sees

baby daddy!toji who shows up to your house unannounced, early in the morning to apologize. “I’m sorry for how I acted, mamas. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Your knees are pushed to your chest as his tongue is lapping at your clit, long drawn out moans filling the room, your fingers entangled in his hair. “Mmmm, I hate you so much,” You whimper, legs twitching as the pleasurable sensation. “Shhh, just let me make you feel good.”

baby daddy!toji who has your favorite flowers sent to your door as another apology, a note written on the small card asking if you forgive him yet

baby daddy!toji who gets sad whenever your daughter asks why you and him aren’t together anymore, letting a sigh because he knows she’s too young to understand. It’s times like these where he wishes you and him could be happy together. “Let’s just say daddy has been mean to mommy a few times.”

baby daddy!toji who always shows up to the parent events and shows. His baby girl is being featured in a play? He’s there in the audience with you. She’s getting an award for student of the month? He’s right there congratulating her. If he can’t be the best boyfriend, he sure as hell is gonna be the best father

baby daddy!toji who notices the moments when you feel insecure about yourself, noticing the days when you’re quiet and more reserved, noticing how you hide away from him when he picks up your daughter. You’ve been having insecurity issues ever since giving birth to your baby girl and toji hates that you can’t see how good you look all of the time. “That outift looks good on you, might have to give Mia another sibling,” he says with a smile. “Toji!” You gasp, playfully smacking his arm. But he sees that smile on your face and hopes he made your day a little better

baby daddy!toji who got too drunk one night and crashed at your place in the middle of night. He was drunkenly babbling as you were taking care of him. “I miss us. You were my girl. You still are my girl,” he spoke. His words made you freeze as you stopped and stared at him for a moment. “You’re drunk, Toji.” You shook your head. He meant every word he said

baby daddy!toji who pops up when he gets a late night text from you asking him to come over. He’s there in a flash, never able to deny you. You two on each other the minute he walks through the door, sloppily kissing each other while he carries you to the bedroom

baby daddy!toji who can fuck you slow and sensual or fast and rough. His favorite position is missionary so he can look at your pretty face while you cum on his dick for the third time. “Missed me, mamas?” He asks, breathless. You nod with a whimper, eyes searching his, the tip of his dick rubbing against your sweet spot with each thrust of his hips. “Oh fuck, I missed you too.”

baby daddy!toji who swears up and down you’ll be the best he’s ever had, literally wifey material in his eyes. You’re beautiful, amazing personality, a good mother, makes him laugh, and you got good pussy. It’s all worth it when you drive him crazy or make him upset. What more could he ask for? One day he’ll put a ring on it

baby daddy!toji who is big on cuddling. This man is a tank, beefy as hell. Who are you to deny a cuddle from him? He’ll wrap you up in his arms after a bad day or after sex and you just fall asleep instantly

baby daddy!toji who stares down any man that look at you when you ask him to take you to run some errands. If looks could kill, multiple people would be dead. He doesn’t like how they’re practically stripping you with their eyes and having sex with you in their head. Only he can do such a thing—in real life too

baby daddy!toji who gains the courage to talk to you and ask if you’re willing to try again with him and be a family. You’re his forever girl no matter the stupid arguments or situations. He’s scared of what you’ll say but he just needs to know or it’ll always be a dying question in his mind. So, would you?

[thevoidstaredback]

Part 1

Jazz was right. Jazz was always right, but he went against here at every turn because he didn't want her to be right. But she was, and he could do nothing to change that.

One month, he'd asked for, and one month he'd been given. In that time, he'd done his best to warn the other ghosts at every turn; yelling the news at them while they fought, opening conversations with it, even going so far as to leave messages at all of their lairs. Most of them didn't listen to him. But then the attacks started.

A week after the initial law had past had gone by as they all had, albeit a bit more tense on Danny's side. Ghosts came through the portal, did some damage, fought Phantom, were captured and taken back to the Ghost Zone, only to come back the next day.

The G.I.W and the Dr.s Fenton had taken no longer than a week to plan their attacks. Now that they could take specimens kicking and screaming to their labs, they spared no resources to do just that.

Danny watched, over the course of the month, helpless as the ghosts were captured and dragged to a place he couldn't help them.

Wouldn't help them. He is, above all else, a coward.

As ironic as it was, and he knew full well the irony, their screams and expressions as they reached- screamed for his help haunted him at night, kept him awake at night.

At the end of the month, Jazz found him under his bed.She was quiet, simply there to listen should he want to talk. And, god, he wanted, needed, to scream at the top of his lungs for the whole world to hear. It's unfair what's happening to his people, friends or not. It's unfair that he has to leave lest the same fate befall himself.

"I'm such a coward," he whispered to his wall.

"Self preservation isn't the same as cowardice."

"Then why didn't I help the others? My whole thing is helping people and I-" a sob floated up and out of his throat, cutting him off, "They screamed for me and I let them be taken away."

"And they're gonna hate you for that-" Danny flinched. "-but they would have done the exact same thing should the roles have been reversed. And you did warn them. It's their own fault for not listening."

He didn't have anything to say. Jazz would argue into submission of her point whether he liked it or not, and he didn't want that. Maybe one day, but he wanted to wallow for a bit, to acknowledge his failings.

"You were right," he whispered eventually. She hummed. "I have to go.

"I know."

"I don't want to."

"I know."

"It hurts."

"And it will for a really long time, Danny, and all the words in the world can't make that go away, despite what either of us want."

"Where would I go?"

"You could always join Dani?"

"And risk world domination?"

Jazz chuckled, drawing a huff of a laugh from Danny. "Yeah, maybe it's best you two don't stay together for a long time."

A minute passed.

"I don't want to leave you guys."

"You can always message us whenever you want. Leaving doesn't mean cutting contact."

"What'll we tell mom and dad?"

"Who says we have to tell them anything?"

"They'll notice eventually."

"Then I'll tell them some approximation of the truth."

"Like what? That I'm half dead and fled the continent to get away from them?"

"That you're traveling with a friend you meet through Vlad. That you were feeling copped up in this small town and you wanted to explore."

"How're you gonna get Vlad to agree to this?"

"He will."

He wasn't going to ask. Some things were better left alone. "What'll I tell Tucker and Sam? I can't leave them in the dark!"

"We'll tell them as much of the truth as you want them to know."

"They're my best friends-"

"That doesn't entitle them to knowing things you don't want them to."

Slowly, Danny crawled from under his bed and sat next to Jazz. "I guess you're right."

"We can get you out of town tonight, but that's as far as I'll be able to follow."

"...I know."

"I love you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah." A beat. "I love you, too."

She hugged him tightly, tears that he didn't mention wetting his hair.

Part 3

[stevesgother]

From Now On (Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away) I S.H

Pairing - Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - enjoy some christmas stevie with your toddler, and a special announcement… <3

AN - oops! It appears i can’t stop writing steve as a father. y’all can thank mady @skeltn for that one. 

With love- Emma

The soft, staticky sounds of Frank Sinatra’s ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ emanate from the thrifted record player in the living room; drifting into the kitchen where you’re rolling cookie dough and wincing as your toddler tries to ‘help’ by adding way too much food coloring into the bowls of frosting.

Over the sounds of nostalgic Christmas tunes, you hear a small crash and the cursing of your husband as he attempts to wrap your eight foot tree in garland.

“You okay, honey?” You shout from where you stand at the counter.

A pause, “Yeah, I’m just–ugh these fuc–”

“Steve!--”

“Fudging lights–” he corrects, “they’re all tangled. I’ve been working at them for, like, twenty minutes,”

“Let me get these cookies in the oven, Ellie and I will come help,” you call back.

More grumbling can be heard echoing from the other room as your daughter, Eleanor, is rummaging through your small container of cookie cutters, eventually giving up and deciding that it would simply be easier to dump all of them out onto the floor.

Her pudgy little hands grab one that's shaped like santa in a sleigh as she declares,

 “I do this one,”

“Do you want mommy’s help or do you got it by yourself?”

She doesn’t respond but clumsily presses the stencil into the floured dough. It comes out a little wonky, but you don’t mind, you aren’t going for perfection. Steve will have eaten them all within the next few hours, anyway.

Speak of the devil, “How are my girls doin’?” he saunters over to you, slightly sweaty from the exertion of decorating the tree and presses a kiss to both yours and Ellie’s cheeks.

When he sees Eleanor’s handiwork, he gasps, “Ellie, baby, these are beautiful!” He fawns over the barely recognizable shapes on the baking sheet like they’re the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen in his whole life.

Ellie can tell he’s pleased with her and starts to giggle with her sticky hands over her mouth. You wisely chose a recipe that didn’t call for eggs, knowing your three-year-old was bound to ingest the raw dough at some point during the process.

Now that Steve’s in the room though, she conveniently decides she’s done helping and motions with her arms for her dad to pick her up. He does so without hesitation, even though she’s covered in frosting and flour, easily lifting her from where she stands in just an oversized tee on a step ladder against the cabinets.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, huh? Give mommy a break,” he looks pleadingly to you, “Can you please try to untangle the lights while I’m gone?” And how could you say no when he looks so pretty and asks so nicely?

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

By the time you’re finally done unraveling and applying a mess of sparkly bulbs and shiny tinsel to your Christmas tree, Ellie comes barreling out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around her and Steve hot on her tail. Miniature wet footprints mark a path from the bathroom door all the way to the couch, and it doesn’t take a scientist to figure out who the culprit is.

“Eleanor Rose!” He yells through gritted teeth, solely because he’s fighting a smile.

You laugh boisterously as you watch your grown husband chase after a toddler in an uncomfortable crouched position that looks ridiculous displayed on someone his size. It’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Now his feigned frustration is directed towards you, “Are you just gonna stand there and laugh or are you gonna help me catch this gremlin?!”

As it turns out, he doesn’t need help after all. When Ellie reaches the couch, she realizes she has nowhere left to turn and succumbs to a fit of giggles on the fluffy cushions. She’s red in the face and certainly not dry, but you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed. Your couch might be a little soggy, your floor might be a little slippery, and Steve might be absolutely exhausted, but you don’t dare dream of your life looking any differently than this.

Steve’s playing Tickle Monster with Ellie when you realize she still needs her pajamas on.

“You wanna get her dressed or shall I?” You ask him over your daughter’s squealing.

“Oh, take her, please,” you can tell he’s teasing though. If you really wanted, Steve would let you lounge in your bathrobe all day– reading Cosmos and drinking iced tea while he took care of Ellie. He’s in his element when he’s spending time with her. Even when you were just silly teenagers in love, you’d never seen him so fulfilled as he is now.

That sentiment is the only reason why you don’t feel wracked with nerves over the news you’re about to deliver him.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Steve’s putting the last of the ornaments on the tree when Ellie reappears from her bedroom with a huge smile plastered to her face. She careens into his shins and he stumbles a little with the unexpected force.

“Hi, peanut!” He grunts a little when he picks her up. You follow suit, wearing the matching pajamas Steve had picked out at Sears for everyone last weekend.

“Did you get your jammies–?” His eyebrows knit together, puzzled, as he realizes he doesn’t recognize the top she has on as the one he bought for you all to wear tonight.

“Babe, why didn’t you put her in the–”

It's then that he catches the words printed on shirt in bold, pink letters,

‘Big Sister.’

Once the initial confusion passes, his eyes immediately well with tears and his features soften like butter.

“What? He asks in that quiet, wobbly voice you’d only ever heard him use a handful of times.

“Surprise,” you respond timidly with your hands out in an almost-shrug.

He sets Eleanor down as gently as he can while also rushing to your side. He embraces you so tight it nearly knocks the wind out of you. When he lets up, he still doesn’t let you go far as he cups your face in both of his warm hands.

“How long have you known?”

“A week or so,” you shrug.

“Baby, I can’t believe this!” his quiet, shocked demeanor quickly morphs into something more like excited giddiness and he’s practically jumping up and down now.

“Oh my God!” He picks Ellie up and swings her around by her armpits before smacking kisses all over her tiny face. You know she’s still a bit too young to properly comprehend the gravity of the announcement, but she’s just so happy because her dad’s so happy.

“Ellie Bear! Mommy’s having a baby!” He holds her by her torso and gives her a light shake, she just throws her head back and laughs, not a clue what’s got him so worked up. With her belly exposed, he blows a raspberry on the exposed skin.

You make your way back to his side and engulf them both in a hug. Your perfect little family of three, soon to be four, and you couldn’t be more content than you are in this moment.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Two hours and one Christmas TV special later, Ellie is snuggled tight to Steve’s chest, lost to slumber. It appears Steve’s not too far behind her as his head is rested against the back of the couch– mouth open and slightly snoring– comforted by his own personal weighted blanket.

“Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a gentle shake, “don’t fall asleep,”

“Jus’ resting my eyes, darlin’,”

You scoff, teasing, “Right,”

He looks down at the sleeping child nuzzled into him, and plants a barely there kiss to the crown of her head. He rises slowly, so as not to wake her, and you follow him to her room.

He sets her down atop the frilly pink comforter with a practised ease, she stirs only slightly, and covers her up with a Disney Princess blanket that was previously splayed at the end of the mattress. You take turns giving her featherlight kisses and wishing her ‘sweet dreams’ even though you know she can’t hear you.

You and Steve are hand in hand as you tiptoe out of her room and close the door with a soft click, giggling like children.

Outside her door, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to each cheek. Then to your mouth.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you,” he whispers back, “more than anything,”

“Wanna call it a night?”

“Can we make out first?”

You gasp in faux disapprovement as you smack a loving hand against his chest and he fakes a wince for dramatic effect. Always the drama queen, your Steve.

“Keep it in your pants, Big Boy,”

“Don’t call me that,” he tries to sound stern and fails.

“You love it,” you smirk.

You squeal when he grabs you behind your knees and hoists you up and over his shoulders.

“Quiet, baby. You’re gonna wake up our baby,” he scolds through a giggle. You pinch his butt in retaliation.

“Okay, that’s it. Off to bed with you,”

The next hour is spent in bed with your best friend– hushed laughs and languid kisses and skin caressing skin before you both drift off into a peaceful sleep; holding each other close like you always have.

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

[its-time-to-write]

OMGGGG WELCOME BACK QUEEN!!!!! honestly you can write quite literally ANYTHING (esp hurt/comfort pls pls pls) with jamie bc all your fics are simply immaculate 🫶🏼

THANKS QUEEN. I’m starting off with the most open-ended prompt and let me tell you, ya girl is RUSTY. This took way longer than it should so pls forgive me😅

But yeah requests are still open so ask away!

birds of a feather

The lights are off when you get home, but you don’t bother turning them on. You’re familiar enough with Jamie’s house that you can make your way upstairs and to his bed without looking. You drop your bag, kick off your shoes, and trudge upstairs.

The light’s on in his room but he’s passed out. You smile to yourself despite the day and switch off the lights.

You weren’t going to cry again, really you weren’t, but by the time you’re brushing your teeth, they’re sliding down your face.

But it’s dark, so no one can see.

You slip into bed where you can (hopefully) cry yourself to sleep when a sob escapes your throat.

Another slips out, then another, making it hard to stop and harder to breathe.

“Babe?” comes Jamie’s hoarse voice. “You alright?”

You can feel him reach for the light, so you blindly grab for his arm. “Don’t,” you gasp, “Please, just leave it off.”

Jamie understands what you mean. You’re trying to say, I don’t want you to see me cry.

He shifts so his face is two inches from yours. He’ll be awake in a few hours, but it doesn’t matter at the moment.

“What happened?” he whispers, but he already knows the answer. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Beard had been running the team ragged in training.

You take a shuddering breath and Jamie’s eyes have adjusted enough where he can wipe away a tear. “Went exactly as expected, didn’t it?” you say. “She did what she always does. Asked for money, was furious when I said no. Asked for advice, was mad when I gave her an answer. Asked me to listen, was upset when I wasn’t giving her solutions. She stormed out after an hour, but not before throwing her wine on me. I ruined the dress you got me, I’m pretty sure we got papped, and I’m really, really sorry.” That’s going to be a lovely article to wake up to in the morning. If Keeley were here, she would be able to come up with a catchy headline for it, rhyming “Tartt,” with something about sisters and WAGs and thrown wine. 

But Keeley isn’t here, it’s just you and Jamie, and you can’t help but think it’s too early in your relationship for this.

Really though, you haven’t been together long enough for your name to tarnish his. That’s a milestone that should be passed in ten months. A year, even.

Jamie barely catches himself from asking, “Why do you still see her?” just like everyone has asked him about his father.

Instead he says, “I’m not fuckin’ worried,” and wraps you in his arms. 

You exhale and snuggle as close as you can. 

It’s times like this where you remember exactly why you’re with him. He just- gets it.

You met him through Keeley. Keeley had been your sister’s friend first, met at a photo shoot, but it was hard to stay friends with your sister. You and Keeley became close while your sister accused you of stealing all her friends.

“Keeley would love to see you,” you had tried to tell her one time in an attempt to keep her from shouting.

“The fuck I would,” Keeley had snorted when you relayed the story hours later.

Keeley’s a genius, really. She took a horrible a vitriolic viral tabloid story about Jamie’s dad and a charity gala, and managed to create this, whatever “this” is.

Jamie’s running his thumb up and down your arm as your breathing evens out.

“Want to go on a run with me and Roy tomorrow?” he asks. “I’ll get you breakfast.”

You whisper back, “I can buy my own breakfast,” and Jamie’s grateful that it’s dark so he can roll his eyes without getting smacked.

“What if I fucking want to get it for you? What then, ey?”

You respond, “Hm,” and then you’re asleep.

—

If Roy’s surprised you’re with Jamie in the morning, he doesn’t show it. He grunts and says, “Don’t think I’m going fucking easy on you, Tartt,” but he sets the warmup at a pace you like before saying, “You’re doing fucking sprints today and I don’t want to hear fucking shit about it.”

He’d never admit it, but Roy’s excellent at reading people. The sprints are so you don’t have to have a single thought inside your head. By the time the sun rises, you’re enjoying coffee on a bench with Roy while Jamie completes his eighty-second pushup.

“Don’t fucking read the fucking Sun,” is the last thing Roy says before leaving to go to his actual work. You grimace, but Jamie takes your hand and swings it the whole way back to his house.

“I’m not going to see her again,” you tell him. He knows you’re lying. He said the same thing about his dad month and a half ago, but he’s going to see him in rehab next week.

Jamie hands you a credit card on his way out the door “to get something fucking hot, babe.”

It won’t change anything and it won’t even fix anything either, but that’s not the point.

The point is he’s looking at you. He sees, he understands, and he’s still there.

You do end up reading the article. It’s complete shit, a made up story about you being a bitch whose newfound celebrity has alienated you from your loving family. Nowhere does it mention that said “loving” family only comes crawling around when they need something. That what they take from you will never be enough.

The fuck did you read that shite for? comes Jamie’s text after you’ve ignored his last five. ik that’s why ur not responfing

Why is your autocorrect never on? you write back instead of answering.

Jamie’s reply is quick: for the aesthetic

You: So you can write “aesthetic,” but have trouble spelling “responding?” Seems strange

Jamie: Sma helpd

Then: *Sam.

You smile, despite yourself. Sometimes you wonder how much of this he does just to get a rise out of you. You suspect it’s more than he lets on, but you’ll let him pretend to be stupid for now.

You check the time. If he’s texting at this hour, it means training’s done. Your finger hovers over the call button for a fraction of a second before pressing it.

Sam picks up on the second ring. “Your boyfriend is hitting Isaac with a towel,” he says, no preamble. “It is chaos.”

“He was just texting me a second ago,” you say.

You can practically hear Sam shrug through the phone. “It escalated quickly. Do you need him? I’m sure they will stop since you’re calling.”

He doesn’t sound too sure, which makes you laugh. “No, it’s all good, can you just tell him-”

You’re interrupted but the muffled sound of the phone being wrestled away from Sam.

“Jamie’s a dickhead,” comes Isaac’s voice far too close to the speaker before there’s vague wrestling again and you hear Jamie, very much out of breath.

“What’s up, babe?” he asks and you don’t even remember why you called him in the first place because you’re smiling too wide.

“I really fucking love you,” you tell him and even though it isn’t the first time you said it, you feel nervous. The good kind, where you know he’s going to say it back and mean it, and that his words are just for you.

Jamie says, “I love you too,” and tries his best to convey a thousand meanings into four words.

“Great,” you say, “because the top Google story for you is me with a giant wine stain on my dress. So I think we should go out tonight and look so hot that everyone forgets all about it. Thoughts?”

Jamie says, “Fucking mint,” then, “fucking ow,” and you can tell by the sounds in the background that Isaac’s gotten him again. 

“GottagoloveyouheresSam,” he says in a rush before you hear him practically hurl his phone.

“You have some strange coworkers, Sam,” you comment.

“You have a strange boyfriend,” he retorts, and he’s right. But Jamie’s strange matches your strange, so you think it’ll last.