#just dads imitating their shirts

[bywons]

✦‎ NOW SHUSH, LET ME KISS YA KISSING ENHYPEN TO SHUT THEM UP

𝖮𝖱 𝖶𝖧𝖤𝖭, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗇'𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗒𝗉𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌

𝖲𝖧𝖮𝖶𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⋆ 𝖾𝗇𝗁𝖺 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝒾𝖭𝖢𝖫𝖴𝖣𝖨𝖭𝖦 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 1327 wc CATALOGUE

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LEE HEESEUNG “the least you could do was inform me, what if something happened to you?,” the air inside the apartment is heavy and tense right now. with your boyfriend just a little away from you, his hands folded and eyebrows jotting together to dart his anger on you. after all, the people in the party you attended are all on heeseung's black list. 

“gosh you're being so reckless right no—,” and before he can go about for another hour, you grab the collars of his shirt and pull him down to a sudden yet a stirring kiss. heeseung melts into it, hands cupping the sides of your face, lips moving softly against yours. he forgets about the argument, as soon as he smiles into the kiss and pulls you in. 

“can you like, shut up now?,” you whisper as you pull back from the kiss, hands still grabbing his collar.

“only if you kiss me once more,” he replies, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips, hands pulling your waist in.

PARK JONGSEONG is busy lecturing you about your messed up sleep schedule. it started off as a cute scenario, a caring boyfriend gently reminding you to take better care of yourself— with you on his lap and his hands gliding softly through your hair. but that soon turned into a lecture by one of your comments, “okay, dad”, was something he was definitely not looking for.

“you can’t keep staying up so late, it’s not good for you,” jay says, his voice soft but firm. “you need to take better care—”, actually now, the lecture is too much. you sit up straight in his lap and kiss the corners of his lips, cutting him off. jay's eyes widen, completely caught off guard by you, but he still leans in for another kiss, hands wrapping around your waist.

“okay, okay, i get it. but this lecture was boring,” you say with a smile, your forehead resting against his, “i'll get to bed soon.”

“now, that's better,” jay chuckles, placing a kiss on your forehead, “but did you just call me boring?”

SIM JAEYUN jealousy is a disease, and you hope your boyfriend gets well soon. the darkest of clouds overshadows his face as he watches you chatting away with a male friend from across the room. the drink beside him is left untouched, still and too cold. this evening is a lot to take for him now.

when you finally return to his side, he huffs, crossing his arms. “do you really have to be so friendly with everyone?” you sigh, trying to keep your patience. “jake, it was just a harmless conversation.”

“harmless? he was clearly flirting with you,” jake mutters, his jealousy evident, staring down the said guy across the room, who probably doesn't know your boyfriend is planning on his downfall, “does he think he can steal you away from me—?”

on your tiptoes, you deliver jake a chaste kiss on his lips, his hands instinctively wrapping around you as the kiss deepens, and melts him away. the other guy is not important now. “i'm only yours, jake,” you smile at him.

“fuck, baby, that was so hot, do it again,” he chuckles, cupping your face as he bites his lower lip in a teasing smile, “this time let's kiss infront of him.”

PARK SUNGHOON is mid laugh, just a moment ago he was enjoying his time teasing and making fun of you and your antics, and no matter how much you'd pout and swat at his forearms, it's of no use. he goes on to imitate your pout and whines anyways, and pulls you back in his embrace whenever you try to leave, continuing this activity.

“you're so fun to mess with!”, sunghoon laughs, his arms wrapping lazily around your shoulder as he leans against the sofa, “look at you all pouty!”

“yeah i know, it's so funny, ’hoon,” you roll your eyes at him.

“aww, is my love all shy and irritated? am i disturbing you, hon—”, it's not that you hate this behaviour of him, it's just that it's too cute of him to imitate you, and never take your smallest, cutest gestures for granted. but right now, it's kind of disturbing, so you sling your arms around his neck and pull him in a sweet kiss. he immediately melts into it, leaning forward and pulling you into his lap, never letting go of your lips.

but when he does, that smug smirk is back on him, “damn,” he whispers. “it was just to shut you up, hoon,” you sigh.

“i know, i know, i think i have to tease you more often now.”

KIM SUNOO looks a little too ethereal right now, expressing his thoughts while the topic is something you hate— mint choco. you don't know how on earth he's still going on, but it's the way that he feeds you a little spoonful of mint choco from time to time, even though you try to gulp it in one go without cringing, and the way he smiles down at you— you're falling in love with him again.

“have you ever tried mint choco tteokbokki?,” sunoo smiles, pushing another spoonful of that filthy thing. 

“no, and i don't want to sunoo. it's gonna be really bad i can guess it,” you sigh and nod your head ‘no’, shifting closer to him. “what?!”, sunoo almost sounds offended, “it's the sweetest thing in the world—” 

and then you decide to lean forward and press your lips on him. a sweet kiss, the taste of mint choco still lingers on him but you don't mind. he pulls you closer, smiling into the kiss. 

“sweeter than my kiss?,” you ask, eyes forming little crescent moons when they meet his. 

“no,” sunoo chuckles, pressing a small kiss to your forehead, “your kiss is the sweetest in the world.”

YANG JUNGWON rolls his eyes at his phone screen, going through the photos of you and your friends together. one of them, who really bothers jungwon— with his arm slinging around your shoulder, his cheek a little too close to yours. 

jungwon throws the phone on the bed, “why is he trying to perceive you so bad like, you literally have a boyfriend?”, he acts extra sassy now, it must've really hit his nerve. 

“and he's the best!”, you laugh, giving him a quick hug, placing yourself on his lap. 

but jungwon isn't satisfied just by this, he needs a higher level of confirmation. “i should've been there with you too, that guy is really—” 

and you give him just that. you pull him in a long, chaste kiss as you giggle into it, and jungwon pulls you in closer to a warm embrace. 

you're the first one to pull away, “got rid of jealousy now?” 

“not yet,” he laughs, “i need to kiss you in front of him.”

NISHIMURA RIKI is hyperactive at times, to the point that he just can't stop talking rubbish with you. you love that part of him, eyes shining the brightest and cheeks flushed. but just not now. it's middle of the night, and you just want to get some sleep.

“..and like i told jake hyung about it, you know?”, riki’s enthusiasm is at its peak as he wraps his arms around your sleepy figure, “so what do you think?”, he grins.

“niks, i think we should sleep—”

“but this is also very—”, you don't give him a chance to finish, pressing a small kiss on his lips and turning to your side, finally dozing off to sleep, “good night, niki.”

niki couldn't process what just happened, so he jumps over to your side to meet your cute face, smothering it all over with little kisses, “hey, so uh i'm disturbing you again, can you kiss me again?”

“riki, go to sleep!”, you whine, yet a giggle comes out of you as he kisses you again.

a/n — not satisfied with this at all but i hope you guys enjoy this TT please do lmk your thoughts & feedbacks ^^ CLICK ME

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

📌 :: PERM TAGLIST IS OPEN ( the tags are rebloged ! ) nets. @/k-labels @enchive

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Maybe, Baby?

Summary: You and Frankie aren't trying for a baby just yet, but when your weird symptoms start to throw your body for a loop, you start to wonder if you actually might be pregnant

Pairing: Husband!Frankie Morales x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), Unprotected p in v sex (wrap before u tap, silly gooses), creampie, praise kink, size kink (if u squint), unintentional breeding kink (lmaoooo, it's me, sorry not sorry), birth control/family planning, pregnancy (or maybe not? part 2 maybe? hehe) symptoms, Frankie and reader mention being closer to 30 than 16 (turns out when you're an adult, it's not a teen pregnancy anymore), reader has hair that can be played with, Frankie being the sweetest husband alive (all the gold stars for him), Frankie is so excited to be a dad that I just may pass away

A/N: I know y'all voted for me to finish chapter 20 but i lied (I'm so sorry), but I wrote this in a day and husband Frankie was really speaking to me on this one 😭 This one is brought to you by my raging baby fever and perhaps some real life inspiration WHOOPS, art imitating life on this one ig 💀 Poorly beta'd bc that's how I roll!!!

Ever since getting off birth control a few months ago, your body had felt… different. 

While you were glad you had made the change for yourself, you still found yourself shocked every month when a new sort of symptom decided to appear at some point in your cycle that you had never dealt with before- acne in new places, weird cramps, and crazy mood swings that showed up out of nowhere before your period were just a few of the things you were learning to manage as you figured out your body post birth control. 

Another symptom you hadn’t expected was that now, you were insatiably horny. 

All the time. 

While Frankie had been more supportive and caring in helping you deal with all of your not so pleasant symptoms than you could have hoped for, he was also more than happy to help you with your newly found positive one, too. 

The only problem was, after so many years of not having to worry about the consequences of your sex life on birth control, you and Frankie were finding it very hard to adjust to be more… careful. 

As you got hornier and hornier, the box of condoms that Frankie had bought after you stopped taking the pill had been seeing less and less use, and to be honest, hadn’t really seen the light of day from the back of his nightstand drawer in about a month an a half- and if you were being even more honest, on top of that, Frankie’s pull out game was almost nowhere to be found. 

You both knew that you wanted a family in the future- That was a part of your reason for getting off birth control to begin with. The two of you had agreed to hold off at least for a little longer to try and get your life more in order before bringing a baby into it, but with with your new lack of protection when it came to sex, and constant horniness around the clock, you both were beginning to have a feeling that that your agreed upon timeline for having a baby might be harder for you to maintain that you thought. 

Especially when you found yourself morphing into an unspeakably horny monster when you were ovulating. 

So little did you realize, that as you were brushing your teeth in the bathroom as the two of you were getting ready for bed and you caught a glimpse in the mirror of Frankie, stripping out of his shirt and jeans, leaving him only in his boxers as he searched around in your dresser for pajamas, that was the reason you nearly spit out your entire mouthful of toothpaste to try and get a mouthful of something else. 

You couldn’t help but ogle at your husband's broad body and freckled tan skin, muscles flexing as he shuffled through your drawers, pulling out an old, worn gray t-shirt and tugging it over his head, running his hand through his messy, curly hair before searching for his pajama bottoms.

At this point, you had honestly braced yourself on the edge of the bathroom counter to keep yourself from falling over at how mouth-watering he looked, already feeling the wetness beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear at the thought of wanting to rip his clothes off just as fast as he had put them on. 

Letting out a yawn, Frankie raised his hands above his head so a sliver of his soft belly peaked out between his waistband and shirt hem before making his way into the bathroom, sleepily padding along the tile floor until his body was behind yours, chest flushed against your back and arms wrapped around your waist. Even more prevalent, his bulge pressed against your ass, making the wet spot in your underwear grow damper by the second. 

“You ready for bed, querida?” Frankie cooed, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder and smiling at your reflections in the mirror. 

While you were absolutely ready to get into bed, sleeping was not going to be your activity of choice.  

“I think that maybe…” You paused, turning around to face Frankie, his body caging yours against the counter, palms splayed flat on either side of your hips, looking down at you with his sweet, brown eyes, “I think that maybe we should do something else before we go to sleep.” 

“Something else, huh?” Frankie smirked, raising his eyebrows at you as your hands began to run up and down his arms, slightly squeezing the muscles of his biceps as your fingers crept under the fabric of his shirt sleeves. “And what might that something else be, Hermosa?” 

“You know exactly what it is, Fransisco. You expect me to watch you just roam around shirtless in our bedroom and not get all hot and bothered? God, you’re so fucking hot.” You moaned, letting your hands run up his shoulders and around his neck, pulling him in for a long, electric kiss. 

“Damn, what’s gotten into you, babe?” Frankie chuckled, trying his best not to blush at your comment, sliding his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“I don’t- Fuck, I don’t know, I just know that if you don’t fuck me right this second, I think I’m gonna explode.” 

While your statement may have had a flair for the dramatic, it was just about as close to the God’s honest truth as you could get- You were so worked up, you felt practically feral, the ache in your core so strong that you really did feel like you were on the verge of implosion. 

Before you even gave Frankie time to respond, your lips were crashing into his with a ferocious intensity, your hands grabbing fistfulls of his t-shirt as you stumbled back towards your bedroom, bodies bumping and bouncing against the walls and door frames, mouths never parting as the back of Frankie’s knees finally hit the mattress, forcing him to fall backwards onto the bed. 

Crawling overtop of him, you were already straddled over his hips, grinding your bottom half on the bulge growing in his pajamas as your hands crept under the hem of his t-shirt, running along the tanned, soft skin of his chest, making him let out a low groan that rumbled in his throat. 

Frantically shuffling himself further onto the bed, Frankie’s hands dug into your hips and over your ass as your hands slid down from his chest to his waistband, fingers tugging at the elastic to shuffle his bottoms and boxers down his legs, quickly followed by your own, dropping to a crumpled pile on the floor. 

Feeling your fingers wrap around his cock, already painfully hard, you swirled the precum leaking from his tip with your thumb before dragging your hand up and down his length, leaving Frankie sitting up in surprise while he watched you begin to hover over him, dragging his dick through your folds. 

“Hermosa, are you sure you don’t need me to-” But before Frankie could finish the rest of his protest to make sure you were ready to take him, you were already sinking down onto him, whimpering at the sweet sting and stretch of his fullness, followed by the ragged moan escaping Frankie’s lips. 

“Oh fuck… Nuh uh, Frankie. I need to feel you, baby. Needed to feel you inside me.” You whined, taking Frankie cock inch by inch until he had bottomed out inside you, his tip kissing your cervix, the fullness making you cry out in pleasure. 

Normally with Frankie’s size, you would have needed to warm you up first, but with how wet and worked up you already were, you were able to take him with ease, desperate to feel him buried deep inside you. 

“Jesus fucking christ, queirda, you’re so fucking wet. Fuck, baby.” Frankie moaned, feeling you begin to slide up and down his length, coating him with your arousal with each swirl of your hips. 

Arching your back, you jutted your hips forward, bracing your hands on Frankie’s strong thighs, circling your bottom half against his, whimpering at his fullness and the hairs at the base of his cock brushing against your clit, selfishly already longing to chase your own high to ease the ache that had been burning in your core. 

“Fuck, Frankie, you feel so good. Feel so fucking full with you in me.” You whimpered, bouncing even harder and faster on Frankie’s cock, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping his and wetness dripping from your heat coating the walls of your bedroom. 

“Yeah? This what you wanted, pretty girl? Wanted me to stretch this pretty little pussy out and fill you up?” Frankie groaned, gritting his teeth as he began to jut his hips up into yours as you rode him, the added depth of his thrusts making you cry out in pleasure. 

And for as fucking good as it felt, the horny monster you had morphed into had you greedily craving more- to have Frankie stretch you open in a way that had you seeing stars, so much that you could still feel the next day, long after the two of you were finished. 

“I-I want more, p-please, baby. Fuck- Fuck me harder, Fransisco.” You cried, your sweet voice whimpering his full name turning him almost as feral as you were, letting out a low growl as he grabbed you by your hips, flipping you so that your back hit the mattress and he was caging his broad body over yours. 

Practically ripping the t-shirt still covering your upper half off your body, Frankie dove face first between your breasts, groping one while hungrily sucking at the other, flicking your pebbled nipple with his tongue, his free hand reaching down to line his cock back up with your entrance, sliding back in to your aching core with ease. 

Frankie let himself sink all the way back in, filling you to the brim before hooking his arms around your knees, pressing your legs against your stomach, smirking to himself at the ragged moan you let out as the new angle opened you up even further. 

“You want me to fuck you harder, Hermosa?” Frankie mewled, slowly dragging his length out of your heat, looking down to see your shiny slick soaking his cock before looking back at you and the wrecked expression plastered across your face, frantically nodding in desperation. “Tell me how badly you want it, sweet girl.” 

“Fuck, I need you so bad, Fransisco, please.” You begged, damn near close to tears with how deeply you needed to feel Frankie ease the emptiness inside you. “Please, baby, I- oh fuck-”  

Before you could even finish the rest of your plea, your breath was already hitched in the back of your throat as Frankie began to pound into you at a relentless pace, tightening his grip around your thighs while he pressed them closer to your chest, grunting with each rut of his hips into yours. 

“This what you want, querida? Meirda- so fucking wet and tight, baby girl. You feel so fucking good, holy fuck.” 

It didn’t take long for the all too familiar tingle at the base of your spine to start spreading through your body like a wildfire as Frankie continued to slam into your g-spot, making you chant his name like a prayer, your brain at a loss for any other words than “Fuck, Fransisco.” 

And as if you already weren’t close enough, when Frankie reached down to thumb at your clit, rubbing in relentless circles against your sensitive nub, you knew you were a fucking goner. 

“That’s it, Hermosa. Cum for me, baby. Want that- oh fuck- want that prefect pussy to fucking soak me.” Frankie groaned, feverishly pounding into you, desperate to feel you come undone for him giving him long enough to fight off his own high that was rapidly building in the pit of his stomach. 

A few more thrusts were all it took to have the coil snapping in your belly, crying out Frankie’s name as you came, orgasm ripping through your body with a blinding intensity, eyes scrunching shut and jaw hanging open while pleasure and euphoria flowed through every ounce of you. 

Still blissed out and wrecked out of your mind, your eyes shot open as Frankie’s mouth crashed into yours, swallowing your whimpers and moans in a messy dance of tongues and teeth. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum. Jesus fuck-  fuck, I’m close too, baby. W-where do you want me, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, barley holding on long enough for you to answer, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as his hips began to stutter, gritting his teeth and furrowing his brow with every ounce of self control he had left. 

Still barley coherent enough to form a sentence, your brain blurted out the only thing you could think of, and the only thing that you really wanted in the moment. 

“Inside, Fransisco. Fuck, cum inside me, baby.” 

That alone was almost enough to send Frankie over the edge, letting out a long, low groan, sloppily rutting into you as his brain went blank alongside yours, starting to babble incoherently. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck- you want me to fill you up, queirda? Fuck, I’ll fucking fill you up so good you’ll be dripping out of me for days. Oh fuck, shit baby, fuck, oh I’m gonnaahhhhhh-“ 

Just like that, Frankie took one last thrust, spilling deep inside you, coating your walls with his spend as his body slumped into yours, the pair of your chests rising and falling in sync as you both came back down to earth. 

“Jesus Christ… Holy fuck, Frankie.” You giggled quietly to yourself, blissfully filled with post orgasm ecstasy as your husband carefully pulled himself out before rolling over next to you on the bed, pulling you close against his chest. 

“Fuck me, Hermosa, holy shit.” Frankie chuckled, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead, tracing small circles on your back as he held you, heat radiating off of each other's sweat-ridden bodies. “God, I love you. We should probably get you cleaned up. You wanna shower?” He asked, smirking as your face lit up at his nearly rhetorical question. 

“Only if you’re up for round 2, Morales.”   

“My eyes are up here, Fransisco.” 

“Hmmm? What did you say?” 

“Exactly my point. Can you stop looking with your man eyes and look with your normal, helpful people eyes to help me decide on a dress for Benny and Victoria’s wedding?” You sighed, laughing to yourself as you raised an eyebrow at Frankie, his gaze still fixed on your chest. 

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be helpful.” Frankie huffed, overdramatically rolling his eyes at you, playfully throwing his hands up in defense as he leaned back against the dressing room door, looking you up and down in one of the cute floral dresses you had picked to try on for your friends’ upcoming wedding. “It’s just that… Nevermind.” 

“It’s just that what, Frank?” You asked tilting your head in confusion at your husband as his eyes traveled back to your breasts, furled look in his brow like he was really staring there to prove a point. 

“It’s just that- Baby, I don’t know if it’s just the dress or what, but your boobs look huge. Like, they always look good, believe me, but like… Whew.” Frankie whistled, practically shaking his head in disbelief at how good you looked. 

“Really?” You asked, turning around to face the mirror in the dressing room, gently cupping your breasts, grimacing as you held them in your hands. “Yeah, I guess they do… Honestly, I was gonna complain about how sore they’ve been all day. I wonder if maybe my period is just coming early?” 

“Maybe? You did ride me pretty hard the last couple nights and put on a good show, so maybe they hurt from all that bouncing and-” 

“Frankie! We are in public!” You playfully scolded, giving him a flimsy slap to the chest to cut off the rest of his thought, the two of you quietly giggling to yourselves and trying to “Shhhh” each other from drawing too much attention to your dressing room stall. “The dress, you goofball, yes or no? Sooner we pick, the sooner we can go get food, because your wife is starving.” 

“I vote yes on the dress. You look beautiful in it, querida.” Frankie smiled, stepping behind you to press a kiss on the side of your head. 

“You just like it because it makes my boobs look huge.” 

“What? Can you blame me for wanting to stare at my gorgeous wife’s boobs all night?” 

“God, you are ridiculous, Fransisco. Fine, boob dress wins. Now let’s get out of here and go get some food before you get stuck in a titty trance and I die of hunger.” 

While the rest of your Saturday was spent enjoying the delicious Mexican food that you had picked up on the way home and a much needed night in on the couch with Frankie, there was a tiny part of your brain that couldn’t seem to shake his comment from earlier about how big your boobs looked. 

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t agree with him, because truth be told, they felt huge, too. They had been sore since you had woken up this morning, and while you had chalked it up to what you and Frankie had been up to the past few nights, or bad PMS symptoms, there was still just something about you that felt off. 

Later that night, during your movie marathon, you had paused whatever new action movie Frankie had been begging to watch since it had popped up on Netflix a few days ago for a popcorn refill. 

While Frankie meandered around the kitchen waiting for the next bag of popcorn to finish popping, you stayed curled up with your blanket in your corner of the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone, until a sharp twinge began to cramp in your lower stomach. The feeling took you by surprise, digging your fingers into your side to try and ease the dull and achy sensation as your face scrunched in confusion, wondering why in the world you had what felt like period cramps in your belly. 

“Hey, you okay, Hermosa?” Frankie asked, returning with popcorn in hand, his face painted with concern to see the pained look scrunched between your brow as you curled deeper into the couch. 

“Oh, y-yeah, I’m fine. I just um, I just had a weird cramp I guess. Probably just ate all that popcorn too fast.” You replied, trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to convince Frankie that you were overthinking whatever mystery symptoms had just flashed through your lower half. 

“Here, lemme just set this popcorn down and then I can rub your back while we finish the movie, okay?” Frankie smiled softly, setting down the bowl on the coffee table before crawling back under the sea of blankets on the couch with you, laying your head against his thigh like a pillow while his hand traced up and down along the small of your back. 

“Thanks, Frankie.” You whispered quietly, taking a few deep breaths as the familiar warmth of your husband’s palm worked up and down the worn fabric of his shirt that you had put on earlier. 

“Of course, baby. If you need anything else, just let me know, okay? Just promise me you’ll take it easy on the popcorn if you have any more there, Killer.” 

The two of you laughed quietly as Frankie leaned down to press a soft kiss into your messy hair laid across his lap before picking up the remote to let the rest of the movie play as your eyelids began to get heavier and heavier as you slowly drifted off to sleep. 

“What’s inside this box?” 

“Open it up and find out! It’s a surprise for you!” 

“Okay? Huh, why is it just a pregnancy test in there?” 

“It’s yours! Congratulations! You’re having a baby!” 

“Ahhhhh!” You shrieked, panting as you woke from a cold sweat, shooting up from the couch. “What the fuck…” You whispered to yourself, coming to and realizing that you were now awake and had only been dreaming moments before this. Running your hands over your face, you blinked a few times to be greeted by the dim light of the TV still flickering in the background, Frankie sprawled out and snoring by your side where the two of you must have fallen asleep on the couch during the movie. 

“What a weird fucking dream…” You sighed to yourself, shaking your head as you quietly pushed yourself off the couch to stumble to the bathroom, pulling your phone out of your sweatpants pocket to check what ungodly hour of the night it had to be since the two of you had crashed on the couch. 

2:07 A.M. 

You let out a low grumble, pushing your sweatpants down to your ankles as you sat down to pee, blinking your eyes open wider to look through the notifications piled on top of each other on your lockscreen. Mindlessly swiping through a few junk emails and text messages from group chats, one notification in particular caught your eye, rousing you from your half awake state. 

“Feeling down? As you begin your Luteal Phase of your cycle, it’s normal to be less cheerful compared to last week when you were Ovulating! Click to track your cycle symptoms for today!” 

Oh shit.  

You could feel your heart beginning to race as you opened up the app, scrolling to the calendar tracker for the month. Swiping through the days, it didn’t take you long to realize that despite all of your weird symptoms you had been chalking up to PMS, you were almost two weeks away from starting your period. Frantically scrolling backwards, you began to try and rack your brain of all of the times in the past week that you had sex with Frankie while you would have been ovulating, and out of that number, how many times he hadn’t finished inside you, let alone even attempt to pull out. 

And that number was a big, fat zero. 

That’s when it hit you like a fucking freight train- You weren’t PMS-ing.

More than likely, you were pregnant. 

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, your voice trembling and heart pounding as you buried your face in your trembling hands, your mind flooding with a million different thoughts all at once. 

How could you not remember that you were ovulating? Would Frankie be upset? The two of you weren’t even trying for kids right now. Would you be a good Mom? What were you even going to need to do to prepare? Your house was starting to get small for just you and Frankie, let alone a baby. How were you going to find a new place to live in 9 months? And get a new car? How were you- 

“Baby, you good in there?” Frankie groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stumbled into the bathroom, letting out a yawn as he opened the door, bright light flooding into the hallway and revealing the sobbing mess you had become, still pants down, hunched over the toilet. 

“Woah, hey, hey, hey. Baby, baby, what’s going on? Talk to me, Hermosa. Are you okay? What happened?” You could feel Frankie’s demeanor immediately switch as soon as he saw you in the bathroom, instantly dropping to his knees by your side, his hands gently grabbing your face to shift your gaze towards him, carefully swiping his thumb to dry the tears that had been streaming down your cheeks. 

“Frankie, I- I- Fuck.” You stuttered, gulping hard as you tried to catch your breath, fighting back your nervous sobs as you locked eyes with Frankie, wondering how in the world you were ever about to brace him for the news you were about to tell him. 

“Hermosa, what is it? Please, tell me baby, what’s wrong?” Frankie pleaded, softly squeezing your face in reassurance as he waited for your response. 

You took a few more deep breaths, composing yourself enough to at least try to get a coherent thought out, swallowing hard as the words left your mouth. 

“Frankie, I-, Frankie, I think- I think I’m pregnant.” 

Frankie’s eyes went wide, his jaw practically hanging open as he tried to process what you had just told him, wondering if he hadn’t heard you right in his groggy state. 

“W-what?” 

“I think I might be pregnant, Frankie.” 

Before you could even bear the thought of looking at his face again, filled with fear that it would be a look of shock and disappointment, you buried your face in your hands again, fighting with everything in you not to cry and keep your composure. 

Frankie sat quietly for a moment, his hand covering up the gaping hole his jaw had made as it nearly hit the floor, shaking his head in disbelief before wrapping his hand around your wrist, pulling your hands to look at him. 

“R-really? You- fuck- You really think you’re pregnant?” 

As your eyes met his, you couldn’t believe the look on your husbands face- Not only was Frankie practically grinning from ear to ear, the sweet brown of his puppy dog eyes were welling with happy tears of their own, waiting on your every word as if he still didn’t believe what he was hearing. Silently, you began to slowly nod your head, biting down on your tongue, your heart feeling like it was about to shoot out of your chest. 

“You’re...y-you’re not upset?” You stammered, sitting up a little taller at Frankie’s reaction. 

“Upset? Hermosa, why in the world would I ever be upset?” Frankie laughed quietly, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear as his other hand cupped your jaw. “Querida… There’s nothing more I want on this earth than to have a family. And-fuck- The fact that it gets to be with you? That you might give me a family? How could I ever be upset about that? 

“Well it’s not like we were really trying for a baby, Frank. We said another year or two. With the house and money -” 

“Hey. We’ll figure it all out, okay? I promise, we’ll be more than okay.” Frankie smiled, his goofy grin still stretched wide between his cheeks, finally easing some of your worry. 

“I don’t even feel like I’m old enough to have a kid. I feel like I need to call up MTV to tell them I’ll be on the next season of 16 and Pregnant.” The two of you snorted, shaking your heads in awestruck disbelief that a stupid joke about a reality TV show could soon become your reality. 

“Well considering we’re married, have a house, and most importantly, are much closer to 30 than we are 16, I think they may have a hard time pitching the show “Married Couple Has a Baby”.” Frankie teased, giving you a playful nudge as the two of you laughed, giving you a few seconds to catch your breath before trying to dig into details. “Did- Did you take a test? How long have you known?”

“No, I don’t know for sure yet, Frank. It’s… It’s just a feeling, I guess. But the huge, sore boobs, weird, period-like cramps and the fact that we really haven’t been the most careful are all pretty good clues.” 

“Well, I mean, I don’t know, we’ve tried to be care-” 

Before Frankie could even finish the rest of his thought, you were already giving him the sassiest look you could muster in your overwhelmed and sleepy state, making the two of you laugh again he let out a sigh of defeat. 

“Okay, yeah, we really haven’t been that careful at all. Sweetie, listen, I- I know it’s not what we had planned, but… I mean, if you are pregnant…” Frankie paused, smiling at your stomach as he gently place a hand over your belly, tears welling in his chocolate brown eyes, “Baby, I would be so excited. Nervous as hell, but so fucking excited.” 

“Me too.” You sniffed, looking down at Frankie’s palm splayed across your stomach, heart swelling at the thought of Frankie being dad, thinking of how sweet and caring and perfect he’d be as you grew your little family together. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled Frankie in close, letting out a shaky sigh, whispering your words through happy tears. 

“I love you so much, Frankie.” 

“I love you so much too, Hermosa. More than anything.” 

For the sake of Frankie’s shoulder, you pulled away to wipe your tears to keep from soaking your husband’s shirt, quietly laughing to yourself at the fact that this whole time you had been talking to Frankie, you had still been pantsless, hunched over the toilet. 

“It probably would have been way more romantic to tell you all of this not at 2:30 in the morning, pantsless and hunched over the toilet like a little gremlin.” You snorted, Frankie following suit as he shook his head, running his hand through the sleepy curls of your hair. 

“I wouldn’t want it any other way, mi amor. C’mon, let’s get you up to bed.” 

As the two of you sleepily trotted your way upstairs, curling together under the warmth of your comforter with Frankie’s chest pressed against your back, you couldn’t help but smile as his arm draped over your stomach, hand resting on your belly while his thumb traced soft circles on your skin, imagining what it would be like if a few months from now if you really were getting ready to add another member to your family. 

The next morning, as the sunrise began to spill through your curtains, casting bright orange and pink shadows on your bedroom walls, you couldn’t help but stir as the familiar scent and warmth of Frankie’s body was missing from his side of the bed.

 As you sat up in the sea of blankets and comforters, softly rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you saw Frankie’s frame quietly sneaking through the bedroom door, fresh mug of coffee and bag of breakfast in hand with a stupid smile plastered across his face as he was greeted with your barely awake grin. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” Frankie cooed, setting down the coffee and breakfast down on your nightstand as he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed, pressing a tender kiss into the sleep-ridden ends of your hair before wrapping his arms around you in a long embrace. 

“Good morning, handsome.” You yawned, stretching your arms over your head, letting out a little grunt and laying your head on Frankie’s shoulder. “What’s all this for?” You asked, gesturing towards the coffee and oversized McDonald’s bag, assuming it was the reason for Frankie’s absence when you woke up. 

“I- I don’t know, I uh- I was just really excited when I got up this morning. It was early, and I didn’t wanna wake you up, so I made a trip to CVS to buy some pregnancy tests for you and figured I’d pick up breakfast on the way home.” Frankie smiled sheepishly, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, brushing past his untamed morning curls. “I know- I know you can’t really take the tests yet- I spent a lot of time reading the boxes in the store and wasn’t really sure what the best one was to take, so I got like, 4 different ones for when it's time.” 

“God, you’re so sweet. You’re the best, you know that? It’s about to be a long week of waiting before I can take one of those. Do you- fuck, Frankie, do you think it could really be positive?” You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes again as you smiled up at your husband, already beaming back at you, picturing the two pink lines showing up on all of the tests he had bought for you. 

“Maybe, if we’re lucky.” He smirked, gently cupping your face, swiping his thumb across your face. “But if it’s not, then maybe… Maybe we start trying for a positive one on purpose.” 

“R-really?” You grinned, biting down on your lip in excitement. 

“Really, really.” Frankie replied, bringing his lips to yours in a long, slow kiss, soaking in the sweet taste of you on his tongue. “And maybe…” 

“Maybe, what, Fransisco?” You giggled, bringing your mouth back to his in a sweet and sloppy kiss. 

“Maybe…. We start trying right now, ya know, just to be sure. Wouldn’t want all those pregnancy tests to go to waste.”

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog @hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr @amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild @copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog @amyispxnk @samgirl4life @pigeonmama @pedr0swh0r3

[steddiealltheway]

(This is way way way longer than intend. You have been warned.)

Steve cannot stand Eddie Munson. And the feeling is definitely mutual. From their first meeting Eddie had sneered, “Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. I never understood why they called him that when I was right there.” He had obnoxiously fluffed his hair as the kids had laughed along.

Okay, yeah. Maybe it wasn’t like the greatest insult of the century, but it was a cheap shot. Robin tells him that that’s the stupidest reason she’s ever heard when it came to an automatic dislike. But it’s not just that!

It’s the loud dramatics that Dustin is always praising and imitating. And the dumb faces Munson pulls that makes his eyes twinkle manically. It’s the constant jabs whenever he sees Steve - calling him “pretty boy” and “King Steve.” He tries not to flinch and give Munson the satisfaction - he hates that damn smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

The kids call them a divorced couple - throwing in “Mom and Dad are fighting again” every so often. He and Munson hate it - but that’s the only thing they’ll ever agree on.

But then the kids come up with an evil plan that isn’t revealed until it’s too late. Dustin invites Steve to a game night with the rest of the Party which… fine, he’ll come to it especially since they’re having it at his house. Sometimes he can’t say no to the kids - specifically when Will gives him those puppy dog eyes, but he’ll never admit to it.

But the dreaded day finally comes, and Steve is in the kitchen pulling a pizza out of the oven when he hears that damn voice. “You didn’t tell me this was Steve Harrington’s house,” Munson spits out Steve’s name as if it’s the most vile thing he’s ever said.

“You promised to join our game night no matter what!” Dustin argues.

That’s when Steve’s eyes land on Munson. He looks entirely out of his element for once and is just wearing that damn Hellfire shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows with ripped black jeans. The lack of the usual leather jacket or flannel or something as a second layer makes Steve feel… weird- no, angry.

Munson snorts, “Comfy enough?”

Steve glances down at his yellow sweater and gives the older boy a confused glare. “Something wrong with what I’m wearing, Munson?” It’s his turn to spit out the boy’s name like it’s an insult.

“I would just prefer if you were wearing less,” Eddie says with a sarcastic smile, knowing the line will make Steve flush red with rage.

Butterflies stir and die in Steve’s stomach at the comment. “And I’d prefer if you were wearing more.”

“Flustered, Harrington?”

“In your dreams.”

Munson winks and comments, “Well you’re there often enough.”

Steve just knows he could win in a fight against him, and severely wants to try in this moment.

“What the fuck guys?” Dustin says. Okay, maybe Steve forgot he was there.

“Language,” Steve warns then continues, “Why did you invite him?”

“Why did he invite you,” Munson fires back at Steve although he wasn’t even talking to him.

Steve gestures around. “It’s my damn house!” Munson’s mouth opens and closes a few times, realizing there’s no good way to make a comeback out of that. Steve revels in the win.

Munson just sighs and stalks out of the kitchen towards where the rest of the group is loudly chatting.

Dustin stays where he was with his hands on his hips which looks like a poor reflection of Steve’s usual stance. “Can you guys behave and get along just for once?”

“Not if he’s going to act like that.”

Dustin sighs and opens his arms dramatically - Steve thinks he got that from Munson - saying, “If you two just gave up on whatever rivalry there is between you, then you’d really get along. Come on for just one night!”

Steve thinks about it for a moment. Not having to constantly be on edge around the other boy for one night. Not constantly being a target to Munson’s jabs and sarcastic flirtatious quips. Not dealing with him constantly getting up in his physical space just to rile him up. He replies to Dustin, “No way.” He can’t let his guard down for one night because… well… because… he just can’t!

Dustin sighs and steals a plate and three slices of pizza. “You’re going to need more pizza,” is all he says before he announces to everyone that thee pizza is ready.

Steve sighs and looks at his timer which is close to going off - meaning the other pizza already in the oven is done. He’s prepared. He warns the kids that the fresh one is hot but doesn’t bother when Eddie comes in. He only feels a little bad when he hears the boy curse under his breath.

And that’s definitely not why he pulls a cold Coke out of the fridge and hands it to him so he can relieve the pain. He just does it because it’s worth seeing the suspicious face Munson pulls at the kind gesture. Never let them know your next move.

Soon everyone is finishing up their pizza in Steve’s living room where Steve sits on the floor as far away from Munson as he can. “Okay, first up charades!” Steve gives Dustin a look after the announcement. “What? El has never played. Everyone partner up in teams of two!”

Teams of two makes no sense when it comes to this large of a group, but when does anything make sense when it comes to the kids? Oh shit. Everyone pairs off into teams of two - Mike and Will, El and Max, and Lucas and Dustin leaving…

“No way,” Munson announces before Steve can beat him to it.

“For this one game, guys,” Dustin pleads with them.

Steve is about to argue, but he catches the extremely judgmental face Max is making and doesn’t want to even hear whatever comment is swirling around in her head. “Fine. This one game.”

Munson gives him the same suspicious look as they get little scraps of paper to fill out with random things to mime during the game. Once a random bowl is filled with the paper, the teams pair off to sit in the chairs and on the couch.

There’s a small available space left on the couch. Steve takes up the entire space expecting Munson to sit on the floor in front of him. Instead, he shrugs and flops right on top of him. Steve just obnoxiously wraps his hands around his waist and pulls him in tighter until he can tuck his chin over his shoulder. “What a sweetheart,” Munson whispers into his ear then has the audacity to kiss his temple.

Steve tries to suppress a full body shiver and is shocked when Munson doesn’t comment on it. Then the game goes on. At one point, Steve starts absentmindedly stroking his thumb up and down Munson’s arm while watching El and Max score six points. But then there’s a hand in his hair, lightly scratching, and he becomes overly aware of everywhere he’s making contact with Eddie.

He wants to kill him. He also wants to melt against him and give into the touch, but that’s exactly what Eddie wants! So, he ups his game, in whatever game they’re playing, and moves his hand to Eddie’s thigh finding the closest rip in his jeans and hooking his thumb under the material to lightly stroke at the skin there. Then he uses his other hand to sneak a hand under the hem of Eddie’s shirt and stroke at the skin at his waist.

Steve can feel the shape intake of breath as Eddie tenses up then relaxes back against him. The hand in his hair then tugs roughly, and Steve bites back a fucking moan.

He freezes as he realizes where they are. And who they’re around. Steve takes a quick glance around but finds everyone too intrigued in the game to notice whatever the fuck is happening between him and Eddie. The other boy must notice the freeze in his antics because his hand quickly comes out of his hair. “Kids,” Steve whispers.

“Right,” Eddie whispers back. Then the round is ending, and Dustin is jumping up to play which clears a space on the couch next to them. Steve takes the moment to gently move Eddie off of him, knees coming up immediately after the other boy is gone, and he finds Eddie snatching a pillow on his lap. What the fuck.

Steve tries to clear his head during the round, but Eddie’s arm is still pressed against him and it’s overwhelmingly distracting. God he can’t stand him.

Sooner than he expects, Dustin and Lucas’s round is over only racking up four answers and a bitter argument. Steve realizes he and Eddie are the last group to go up. Eddie nudges him to get up, pillow still firmly in his lap, and Steve would make a comment if the sight didn’t make his head spin.

He takes a deep breath as Dustin starts the timer for them, and Steve snatches up a piece of paper - train wreck. Yeah, that’s how he feels. He makes an awkward gesture of his hands coming together then blowing up that no one could possibly get.

“Train wreck.”

Steve grabs another paper - ice. He makes a cube shape with his hand and shivers.

“Igloo… No, ice.”

Dracula. Steve tries making fangs.

“Vampire.” Steve gestures for more. “Dracula!”

Lightsaber. Steve pretends to hold one and slice.

“Lightsaber.”

Steve hears Dustin whisper under his breath, “What the fuck?” As he pulls out paper after paper until the timer runs out.

The kids stare at the two in awe and shock as Dustin announces, “Eighteen. You guys got eighteen…”

Steve and Eddie share a look of slight discomfort. That can’t mean anything. Really. It can’t. Maybe Steve is just good at charades. So, Steve just nods at the man and sits on the couch in front of him. Another round in and Eddie is hooking his legs around Steve’s torso, and Steve is shooting him a glare. Insufferable asshole. He lays his head against his knee to mess with him as Eddie plays with his hair.

Soon enough, it’s their turn again, and Steve is grateful because he was about to embarrassingly doze off comfortably because of Eddie Munson. He takes his place on the couch and watches as Eddie prepares to start. This is the moment they prove everyone wrong about being a good team.

Eddie’s hands make a circle. “Ferris wheel.” Eddie shoots him a look and picks up the next paper. Shit.

His hand awkwardly flops in what Steve supposes is meant to be a wave. “A wave.” Eddie gestures for more. “The ocean.” Eddie picks up another paper.

Eddie points up then use the same hand to gesture something coming up. Something rising… “Sunrise.” Eddie picks up another paper.

Their round goes on the same as before, but this time the kids are all laughing as Steve guesses stuff almost immediately after Eddie makes a gesture. The timer goes off, and Dustin announces, “Twenty-five!”

A big grin splits out on Eddie’s face which Steve is sure he mirrors as he runs over to him and gives him a high-five. “That was so metal!” Eddie says, eyes twinkling with glee. Steve wants to stay in this moment forever.

Wait. No. He doesn’t. He fires back, “Just because I’m excellent at guessing, it had nothing to do with you, Munson.” Unfortunately, the name doesn’t quite land as it usually does, it now sounds a bit twisted up in joy.

Nonetheless, Eddie’s smile slightly falters as he punches Steve’s arm and replies, “I’m just great at miming stuff, Harrington.”

Dustin clears his throat, and Steve realizes they have an audience. “Next up we have Pictionary which is just charades but with drawing. Does anyone want to change groups?”

Steve freezes. Shit. This is supposed to be when he and Munson argue that yes, they do, but before they can Dustin says with a little too much excitement, “Looks like no one does, so we’ll keep it the same!” He goes off to wheel in a whiteboard Steve happened to find in his dad’s unused office.

Eddie sits on the arm of the couch this time - which Steve realizes could’ve been an option the whole time - and whispers, “Guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Because no one wanted to change groups.”

“Well, I didn’t see you raise your hand.”

“I didn’t see you raise your hand either,” Steve fires back but then the reality of what he said hits him. Shit. Eddie shoots him a shit eating grin.

Two rounds in, he’s sliding off the arm of the couch and into Steve’s lap complaining about it being uncomfortable. For some reason, Steve doesn’t tell him to just sit on the floor like he did.

Pictionary goes the same as charades does, with Steve and Eddie somehow on the same wavelength with every single scribble. On their last turn, Eddie’s marker dies out and Steve somehow guesses that the invisible scribbles are the Statue of Liberty.

I think that’s what really does it for everyone. The kids start demanding to know how they’re cheating, and Eddie and Steve actually team up to defend themselves on how they have no idea how they’re so good at the games.

The whole things has everyone switching teams, but it turns out that only Steve and Eddie can guess each other’s gestures and scribbles. At one point Steve yells at Dustin, “How could you not get the Loch Ness Monster from that?!”

And Dustin yells back, “How could you get it from his hand just going up and down?!”

Even when they all agree to do a round of everyone excluding the other half of Steve or Eddie, they find they can only guess around five things from Steve or Eddie on average. They let Steve and Eddie team up one last time and they score above twenty correct guesses on both turns.

It becomes suspicious to the point that Eddie and Steve both start questioning the group on whether they’re faking it. But when Max says, “I don’t think any one of us could’ve guessed that when Eddie’s hand started going up and it wasn’t even past his shoulder that it meant a giraffe - except for you,” Steve cringes and realizes she’s probably right.

He glances at his watch just for something to do when he realizes that they’ve actually been on this argument for a long time. Long enough that Nancy should be there any minute to pick a few of the kids up.

Sure enough, there’s a knock on Steve’s door. “Looks like Nancy is here.”

The teens start to complain about how time has gone too fast, and they'll have to beat Steve and Eddie another time. Dustin finally gets to the door first, then he yells, "Last one to make it to the car is the true loser!" The kids bolt.

Nancy puts her arms up as they pass her. She gives Steve and Eddie a tight smile after she finds all the kids struggling to fit themselves in her car.

"I brought half of them here; I can take them back," Eddie offers kindly. Jeez, Steve wishes he could be like that with him.

"Thank you, but I think they'd kill me if I tried to kick any of them out. You know how they are."

"We definitely do," Steve says and smiles brightly at Nancy. "Tell Robin I said hi."

Nancy's smile turns into a real one as a blush rises on her face. She nods and quickly says her goodbyes. Steve closes the door only to realize Eddie is still there. "Want to help me clean up?" Steve asks, fully expecting a rude response from the man.

"Sure," Eddie says instead, moving to pick up empty soda cans. Steve tries not to let his eyes linger as he bends over to do so. He shakes his head and moves to clean the whiteboard and wheel it back to his father's office.

When he comes back, he finds Eddie has stacked all the cans haphazardly in his arms. "Where's the trash can?" Steve motions for him to follow and pulls out the drawer in his kitchen with his trash can. "Rich people," Eddie mumbles as he drops the cans in.

Steve moves the pizza pans into the sink to wash later as Eddie comes up behind him. "We make a pretty good team, Harrington."

Steve scoffs and turns around, finding Eddie smiling openly at him. He doesn't like it. It feels too... suspicious. "In your dreams, Munson."

Eddie's face falls again. "At least you're nice in my dreams."

Steve laughs. He's got to be kidding. "Why would I be nice to you? You can't stand me, and the feeling is mutual, buddy."

Steve becomes overly aware of how trapped he is with his back digging into the counter. It's worse when Eddie leans forward and puts his hands on the counter at each side. Steve's crossed arms are the only reason Eddie isn't fully pressed up against him. And he does not want to put his arms down and fulfill the want in his traitorous mind.

Eddie breath ghosts over his lips as he says, "Yeah, you invade my space at every given moment with your hands itching to touch me because you can't stand me so much."

Steve cocks his head and leans further into Eddie's space, not afraid of the close proximity. "Yet look who's the one invading mine first."

"And look who's leaning into it."

With that Steve shoves Eddie off of him. He doesn't want to play these fucking mind games with the asshole. What he really wants is to get as far away from his as possible and to take a really cold shower.

Eddie laughs, and Steve just needs him to shut the fuck up for once. And that's the exact moment he storms into Eddie's space and kisses him.

And that's the exact moment he realizes he's fucked up.

(Thank you @henderdads for encouraging me to turn my concept into a ficlet, and since I am unable to stop myself from writing way more than I intend and making everything into a wip... I will be dropping the AO3 Link to this once I continue it. Also, this isn't even the whole first chapter or part to this story ahhhh)

[nicksolemnlyswears]

Hello, how are you?

I just wanted to say how much I loved your stories with Han. He's my favorite character and the way you portray him is so accurate. I was swooning with every word hahaha.

Can I please request something with Han as a father? I would love to see him and reader with a little girl that's attached to his hip. How do you think he will act with her milestones? (he would be the type of dad who will cry at his daughter's wedding, even if he denies hahaha).

Thank you so much and have an amazing day 🌹🌹🌹

pairing: dad!han x daughter

words: 3.4k

warnings: none. i think there's only one curse word.

notes: ohh i love this request! i had something like this planned since in the headcanons i made him a girl!dad. i got you nonnie! if you want any of these prompts explained a bit better, let me know! i tried to write as much as possible but i also wanted to cover most of her youth. so, i tried to write a bit of every stage.

-when his baby girl is born han's world shifts. he was so insecure about becoming a dad because for so long it wasn't in his cards. but then she's born and he's over the moon. how could he ever doubt it?

-han is very hands on with taking care of his daughter. both because he loves it and because he wants to help his wife. she carried baby girl for a little more than nine months. of course he's taking the night shift. he's a night owl anyways.

-he has a sixth sense, like women do. whenever his baby is about to cry he feels it. he'll come up to her crib only to find her with a wobbly lip and watery eyes. he'll coo at baby girl and pick her up, rocking her until the sniffles are gone.

"there, there, baby. daddy's here, don't cry," he'd say bouncing her while holding her. her head tucked into his neck.

-baby girl is obsessed with her daddy's voice. she listens so closely when he speaks. if he's talking to his wife and she's on the high chair she'll stare attentively at him, trying to understand the words. the wife thinks it's because he used to talk to her belly when baby girl was still cooking.

"what do you think, baby girl?" han turns to ask her, smiling when she babbles nonsense.

-those long night where she refuses to sleep, crying even after he's fed and changed her, han sings to her softly. whatever song comes to his head.

he doesn't remember any lullabies from his childhood, so he makes do. that being said, there have been times han has sung inappropriate songs with bad words but he shrugs it off. it's not like baby girl understands yet.

-whenever han isn't present when she wakes up at night because he's at the races with the crew, baby girl acts so confused, clutching onto mom's shirt and searching for han. "daddy's not home, honey. just you and me," her mom would say, ready to spend hours calming the baby because she misses han.

-baby girl and mom are close too but she's so blatantly a daddy's girl. her mom just stops trying to impress her and accepts the crumbs of affection her daughter gives her.

-unsurprisingly baby girl’s first word is 'dada.' han would be beaming, asking her to say it again. baby girl is amused by all the attention he's giving her so she keeps repeating the word until it loses all meaning.

"come on, baby. one more time. say dada," han coo's, holding his baby on his lap. mom would roll her eyes and smile at the pair of them, giggling amongst themselves.

-han gets baby girl a lot of toy cars to play with. fuck gender norms. he would get cars in whatever color baby girl prefers. playing with her on the floor for hours at a time.

-there are nights, once baby girl becomes a toddler, that she refuses to sleep. han buckles her into the carseat in some expensive four door sports car and drives around the neighborhood because the rumble of the engine puts her to sleep within seconds.

-the older she gets the more she imitates han. gets to the point where han has to be very careful of what he says and does. if he doesn't have greens in his plate, baby girl won't eat hers because daddy's not eating any.

-baby girl drags han into pretend tea parties. he plays along, sipping from the empty plastic teacup. she forces a small tiara on his head as well.

-makeovers are a must. hans wife often has to hold back her laughs, finding him with kid eyeshadow smeared on his face, lipstick outlining his lips and two out of ten nails painted messily.

-she picks up his mannerisms and turns into a mini han. the toretto crew call her just that because of how much she resembles him. oh, if roman fucks around with han, baby girl comes to the rescue.

"ay yo rapunzel, let down your hair," roman says with an obnoxious laugh when he spots hans overgrown hair.

baby girl as quick as a whip, pans to roman and responds, "at least he has hair. what's your deal, baldy?"

oh, everyone that heard was on the floor laughing. baby girl said it so seriously, a frown on her face as she defended her daddy.

"that's my girl!" han cheers, kissing her chubby cheek, making her smile again.

-there would be a time where baby girl would get in between her mom and han. if they were being romantic, holding hands or even kissing she would push them away and cling onto han.

"no, daddy is mine," she would screech.

"but baby, that's your mom. my wife. i love her very much," he'd say to baby girl while picking her up.

"does that mean you don't love me?" baby girl gasps, her eyes watering.

"I love you so much, baby girl. you're my number one girl. don't tell mom, okay? it'll be our secret!" he loudly whispers, kissing her chubby cheek.

the wife would be amused at this exchange and would throw him a dirty look he'd laugh at. he'd make it up to her later in bed.

-his habit of singing random songs to calm her down would backfire. one day as he drives baby girl to school he’d hear her singing along to fergalicious. it’s possible han played it one too many times in the car. his wife is going to kill him.

-han would express wanting to teach baby girl to drive at eight years old. mom immediately refuses. she can't even see over the steering wheel! it leaves him no choice but to postpone the driving until she's ten.

-when he does teach baby to drive his heart swells with pride. she's a fucking natural at it. they'd drive around a calmer part of town, sunglasses on and music blasting.

"if you feel the car, you'll know what to do. life is like that too. be aware of your surroundings and how people react to things. you'll learn a lot from it," were han's words when he taught baby girl to drive.

he will never admit out loud that baby girl at twelve years old is a better driver than his wife.

-nonetheless, baby girl spends a lot of time in the garage with han while he works on the cars. after school she'd finish her homework quickly to assist han with the tools.

"wrench?" he'd ask.

"wrench." she'd say, handing him the tool.

"drill?"

"drill."

"snack?"

"which one?"

-baby girl remains clingy until puberty happens. the mood swings are killer not to mention the cramps. not only that but whenever she's out and about she would want to act cool and not like a daddy's girl. she lets go of han's hand whenever she sees a friend and runs out of the car before school without giving him a goodbye kiss on the cheek. it's probably the first time han's heart breaks. she's not a little kid anymore.

-INSISTS that han calls her by her name if her friends are around. he refuses. doesn't care if it embarrasses her.

-the dreaded day finally comes when she has her first date. mom is excited, helping her get ready while han waits in the living room all broody and pouty. bag of chips in his hand to ease the nerves.

finally baby girl comes around, dressed all pretty with a bit of makeup and her hair nicely done. she looks nervously towards her daddy, waiting for his reaction. while han's heart breaks again he acknowledges he has to come through as the cool dad.

"you look beautiful, baby girl," han tells her, a small smile on his lips.

she smiles nervously, "thanks, daddy."

her crush would arrive and they would go to the movies. his parents driving them. han wouldn't be that far behind in mom's car because it blends in with the cars out on the streets. he would sit rows behind them to keep an eye on the snotty kid that asked his baby girl out.

nothing much happens, they're just 14. at most he wraps his arm awkwardly around her shoulders or they hold hands throughout the movie.

he sneaks out before the movie ends and drives home, forgetting they're going for ice cream afterwards. it's there where the kid gathers the courage to kiss her. her first kiss. it's a good thing han isn’t there or he would've had a heart attack.

-once baby girl moves on to high school she chills out. she lets herself be seen with her daddy. every girl in her high school has a crush on han. i mean he drives her in an expensive sports car and he looks so cool opening the door for her, his salt and pepper hair as flawless as ever.

-lowkey she likes being the girl with the hot dad. it kinda makes her popular or at least the cool kids invite her to all the parties because of it. the girls drool over her dad and the boys over the cars...and her mom too.

-whenever he has to pick her up, he waits outside the school, leaning back on the hood of the car, arms crossed and sunglasses covering his eyes. the girls would eat it up and baby girl would look at them in disgust, cursing them out for ogling at her daddy.

-han spoils baby girl like crazy. it drives her mom mad. she wants this new blush from rare beauty? consider it purchased. after school she wants a snack from the convenience store? he'll get a bunch of them.

"i saw these shoes at the mall that were so pretty, daddy," she'd hum, plopping on the couch beside her.

mom would be glaring at han from across the living room, shaking her head no.

han would stare straight forward, "that's nice, baby."

best believe there would be a bead of sweat on the back of his neck from his wife's intense glare. the moment he got a moment alone with baby girl he'd slip her the amount the shoes are worth, giving her the ‘don't tell your mother' look.

days later he would hear a scream, "HAN LUE!" the wife found out about what he did. hard not to when baby girl is sporting brand new shoes for school.

-baby girl would be into a sport. whether it's volleyball, softball, basketball, martial arts, or fencing. whichever sport doesn't matter. han would attend every game, carry the heavy equipment bag for her, and be her biggest fan.

i think han could get intense at the games. if the referee wasn't being fair he's approach them and exchange some stern words. then, he'd go back to his seat and keep cheering her on. he would definitely treat the whole team to dinner afterwards or a treat like ice cream.

-baby girl and han would be so attached at the hip he would know all her friends name, the drama in the friend group, who is dating who, and who's on baby girl’s bad side. baby girl would get into the car after school and just go on and on about what's going on in the school. han being the person he is would know exactly what to ask to get her to keep talking and spill all the beans.

he lowkey enjoys the gossip and would be waiting for updates. like imagine it's 9 at night and baby girl is on her phone in her room and he'd knock and peak his head in, offering her some chocolate or candy.

"so, what's up with caroline? she break up with matt yet?" he asks, trying to act unbothered.

baby girl would would instantly sit up and pat her bed for him to sit, "now that you mentioned it, they broke up! but here's the kicker, caroline has been spotted around school with tyler, his best friend!"

-this closeness allows baby girl to be open with han. in the past he’s told her that whatever she’s done or if she’s in trouble she can count on him. want to go to a party? go ahead and be careful. got drunk at said party? call me and i’ll pick you up. you won’t be in trouble. puked in my car? i’ll clean it but no new shoes for a while.

-han would throw baby girl a sweet sixteen party or a quinceañera (if his wife just so happened to be latina)(let's be real he's mister worldwide, like pitbull). it's a succesful party, he goes all out and spends too much money. baby girl has a blast though, making it all worth it. she danced the whole night away with her friends and even asked han to dance some slow songs with her.

-han will definitely get her a car for her sweet sixteen. it would be a car she's been wanting since forever. han would modify it so it's more unique and fits her style better. he'd add a huge bow on top to make it abundantly clear that's her birthday gift. he'd add one of her smaller toy cars from when she was a baby to her keychain.

-honestly, han would probably be the type of guy to get baby girl those huge keychains that have a taser, a poof ball, a stabby thing, and a whistle in her favorite color.

-baby girl is super smart and the time comes when she has to set off to college. han is miserable on her graduation day, watching her walk on the stage and give her valedictorian speech. she's been accepted to a fancy school for smart kids...far away from home.

he's fully capable of moving his whole life to whatever place that school is in but his wife holds him back. it's time for her to go and start building her own life. she'll forever be his baby girl.

-baby girl makes it her goal to spend the whole summer with her parents. she follows han around like when she was a child, helps him in the garage, goes out shopping with him, and take late night drives to talk about the latest gossip on her friends.

-in august she has to go settle into her dorm. the ride to the airport is quiet, baby girl didn't want any tears. she checked into her flight, dropped her bags off and headed for the line for tsa.

she hugged her mom tight, giving her a kiss on the cheek and turned towards her daddy. she threw herself at him, hugging him so tight.

"be safe, okay? if you don't like it and you want to come back home, that's fine. whatever you need let me know," han whispers in her ear as they hug. he holds back his tears since he promised her no tears.

"bye daddy," she mumbles, stepping back.

she grabs hold of her carry on bag and walks away without looking back. han knows that tears are underway, though. it's his sixth sense. as baby girl walks through tsa she looks back and sure enough there are fat tears rolling down her face.

-his life feels empty when he returns to the house. his wife comforts him, even if she's sad about her daughter's move. he reassures her he's fine but she knows better. han and baby girl have been attached at the hip since she was born.

-those first weeks are hell. han can't shake off the habit of knocking on her door at night to check up on her. often times he'd grab two of something to share it with her until he remembers she's gone.

-a friday night he receives a call. baby girl is face timing him.

"missed me, old man?" she'd beam at him. she's in her dorm room, getting ready to go out. she’s into clubs now much like her daddy was years ago.

the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

"i don't know what you're talking about. you called me," he'd chuckle.

"i got some hot goss for you. caroline is pregnant with twins!" she'd scream into the phone, picking up a brush to apply her blush.

just like that a new habit would form. almost every night baby girl would call him to tell her parents all about her day. sometimes the conversations are short but other times they could go on for hours. all she wanted was to hear his voice.

-han looks forward to those calls. he always answers no matter if he's sleeping or out with the crew. if he's with the crew the phone would be ripped out of his hands as everyone says hi to baby girl. best believe there would be a jab thrown at roman. the two of them never quite got along.

-on her third year of college she comes home for the holidays, bringing a boy with her. her boyfriend. baby girl and his wife blind sided him, he had no idea this person was coming into his home. if he thought he was staying with baby girl in her room he's wrong! the guest room it is for the boyfriend.

-han hates to admit it but the boyfriend treats baby girl like he's supposed to. like a goddamn queen. he even peels her oranges for her so she doesn't ruin her nails.

-the boyfriend seeks han's approval. han basically has him as a lapdog during the holidays, keeping him busy with things to do while han spends time with baby girl. she notices,of course, but says nothing on the matter. if her boyfriends wants han's approval he has to do what han tells him to.

-at the end of the holiday's, when it's time to return to campus, han pats him in the back and says, "sees you in the summer, kid." baby girl's boyfriend proved his worth, now it's in his hands not to screw things up.

-two years later that same boy visits han and his wife and asks for her hand in marriage. han reluctantly agrees. baby girl has just gotten back from college this year. she's finally back under his roof and she'll be leaving him again. her boyfriend is a fine man, though and he'll make her happy.

-just like her huge party when she was a teen, han throws a big wedding. it's everything out of baby girl's dream.

han walks her down the aisle, her hand holding onto his arm as she stares ahead at the man of her dreams. her soon to be husband. he looks at her approaching with tears in his eyes from how beautiful she looks.

"i love you, baby girl," han tells her, kissing her cheek, careful not to ruin her makeup.

"i love you too, daddy. thank you for everything," she responds.

it's so hard for han to let go of her hand. still, he hands her over to her fiance and tells him, "take care of her. it's my life you have there."

"i promise."

-han's heart breaks for the last time he hopes. the ceremony is beautiful and the vows make people cry. han watches his baby girl up there. she's no longer a baby, she's a woman. yet he still sees that baby who would calm down at the sound of his voice.

it's later in the reception where the water works happen. baby girl grabs a microphone and says, "as many of you know, my favorite person in the whole wide world is my dad, or daddy, as i still proudly call him. he's made me the person i am today. all my quirks, my interests, and my morals are all things i've gotten from him. i couldn't of asked for a better father. my god he spoiled me to no end and taught me the best lessons there are, including how to change a tyre, which has proved to be very useful. i'm going to stop talking now and ask for you to come up here and dance with me."

so far, han is composed. he stands and grabs her hand to dance to the song she chose. (i imagine it to be first man by camilla cabello. it's a beautiful song.) they sway to the music and it's while listening to that song that the first tear falls.

"don't cry, daddy," baby girl sniffs, swiping it away.

"i'm so proud of you, baby girl," he says as more tears tumble down his eyes.

"gosh, you're making me cry," she says, looking up to prevent the tears from falling.

"it's okay, i paid for the waterproof makeup," han jokes, pulling her into a tight hug.

she'll always be his baby girl. no matter what. in his eyes she could do no wrong.

fin.

han would be a great dad. i didn’t get into the dark side of the business here. i wasn’t sure how to write it in. but be rest assured he’d keep her safe from it all.

thank you for reading! i hope you liked it!

-nikki 🤍

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 7

Description: You catch up with Gabi and Emma, Todd is an ass over text and the O'Haras give you a gift.

Pt 8

You were kneeling down on the wooden walkway, a fake bridge designed to imitate what the builder of the zoo thought the jungle villages of Africa looked like, talking quietly to Gabi and Emma.

“Girls I know you’re excited to see the hippos, but you can’t run away like that, what if either of you had gotten hurt? I was so worried about you two, and I’m sure your friends, and Mr. O’Hara, were as well.” You explain softly, holding one of their hands in one of yours, and keeping your expression calm to keep them calm.

“We’re sorry.” Gabi says, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

“We’re sorry, Ms. Y/N.” Emma begins to cry, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

You coo at them and pull them into a hug. “It’s okay, you just have to be more careful next time.”

The sound of footsteps, four sets of small feet, and one larger set, the sound of which you’ve strangely come to recognize.

“Are they okay?” Miguel asks, his voice is rich with concern, and you feel him kneel beside you, his large hand resting on Gabi’s shoulder.

“Everyone is just fine, we just got a little overwhelmed, huh?” You direct the second half of your answer towards Gabi and Emma, who pull away and nod, sniffling a little.

“¿Estás bien, Mija? ¿Estás herida?” Miguel’s hands were cupping her face, thumbs smoothing over her tearstained cheeks. Trsl: Are you okay, are you hurt?

Gabi nodded her head. “Estoy bien, Papá.” Trsl: I'm okay/good, dad

He breathes a sigh of relief and presses a kiss to her cheek. “Never run off like that again, you know the hippos aren’t going anywhere.”

She nods again, but is still pouting, and the two of them together is an adorable sight.

You feel a pang of longing right as your phone buzzes in your back pocket. You release Emma and begin to guide the group towards the hippos, fighting the urge to throw your phone into the nearest exhibit.

Todd has been texting you all day. First to bitch at you for leaving him wasted in his apartment, three weeks ago, then for ignoring his calls the next day, then he was mad because you wouldn’t let him chaperone, even though, he didn’t actually want to go, and it wasn’t your fault, the school has rules.

He’s sent you a photo, the one the whole first grade took at the zoo’s entrance. The one you’d very quickly—offhandedly, uploaded to your social medias to mark the occasion.

Todd: I thought you said men weren’t allowed to chaperone? Was that just an excuse, so you could fuck somebody else without me knowing?

He had circled Miguel in the photo, like a crazy person.

Y/N: I said male non-family members are not allowed to chaperone, that’s a parent of one of my students. We are not having an affair, and I would never abandon my students to do something so inappropriate.

He always did this, always got so jealous of any guy who was around you for even a minute. It was exhausting.

He left you on read, and you bite your tongue, trying to keep calm as you slide your phone back in your pocket.

“Gabi told me it was your birthday a few weeks ago.” Miguel says casually.

Your stomach drops. “Oh yeah?”

“I feel bad, usually Gabi and I get her teachers flowers on their birthday, but I was out of town for work, so I guess we missed it.” He towers over you, but you don’t feel unsafe, in fact you feel strangely protected.

Miguel looks so good in that cheesy field trip T-shirt, it stretches across his chest, and clings to his arms in a mouthwatering way. He looks down at you, a sheepish smile on his face.

“We hoped maybe this would make up for it?” He hands you a daisy shaped pendant, it’s beautiful, and well-made.

“I—I can’t accept this; it looks way too expensive.” You try to give it back to him, but he shakes his head and closes your fingers around the pendant, his hand dwarfing yours.

“It wasn’t expensive at all. Gabi found the necklace when we visited one of the farmer’s markets in the city. Daisies are her favorite flower, and she wanted to get you a birthday gift…and I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for her. I mean, it’s still the first half of the school year, and I’ve never seen her be so fond of a teacher…” His hand is still covering yours, and you’re frozen in place but basking in the praise.

“Well, it is beautiful, and if it’s not expensive then I can’t turn down a gift from one of my best students now, can I?” You joke lightly, your heart pounding in your chest.

Miguel releases your hand and motions for you to turn, sweeping your hair up with one large hand, the other clasping the necklace around your neck. “It would break her heart.” He breathes, his warm breath on your neck making you shiver.

You want him. Fuck, you want him bad.

“Can’t have that.” You whisper, breathless and resisting the urge to lean into his strong chest.

“Ms. Y/N, you’re wearing my gift!” Gabi notices so quickly, weirdly quickly, for a moment you wonder if they planned this.

“I am, it’s very pretty, thank you.” You finger the pendant, it is absolutely beautiful, maybe the nicest gift anyone’s ever given you, definitely better than anything Todd’s given you.

“Now you gotta promise me you’ll never take it off.” Gabi pleads, giving you those puppy dog eyes she does so well.

You pretend to think it over, then nod your head. “Alright, deal.”

She lets out a squeal of happiness and runs back to her friends.

“She’s so good at that.” You remark, turning back to Miguel.

“Good at what?” He asks, his eyes keep drifting back to the pendant, where it sits between your fingers as you absentmindedly toy with it.

“Those puppy dog eyes, it’s so hard to say no to her.” You feel a rush of boldness and drop the pendant. “Did she learn that from you?”

Miguel’s eyes shot up to yours. “Beg pardon?”

“The puppy dog eyes.” You smile at him, a carefully crafted carefree smile meant to make the receiver feel comfortable, to get them to let their guard down.

“Oh, no, no, she learned that all on her own.” He laughs, and the sound is like syrup, muddling your thoughts with a thick sugary sweetness.

You remember his words when you admire the necklace in the mirror, the day is done, you’ve showered, and now you’re getting ready for bed.

You’re not a vain person by any means, but you can’t help but admire how it shines against your skin, as you stand bare, fresh from the shower. It hangs a bit between your breasts, the metal is sturdy, and no matter what Miguel says it’s not cheap. There’s no fake metal smell, or green staining your skin.

You spend a little longer staring at it, running your fingers along the edge, feeling each petal’s edge. It wouldn’t hurt to keep it on, at least for a little while, until Gabi forgets all about it.

Tag list: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard

[sophie-hatter-jenkins]

Tattoo

Written for @jilymicrofics using August prompt no. 26

James and Lily react very differently to teenage Harry's new body art!

890 words, rated T (though I'm being very cautious there, it's probably really Gen)

Read below, or on AO3

“Harry James Potter!” Lily Potter stopped dead in the doorway to her seventeen year old son’s bedroom. “What the hell is that?”

Harry scrabbled into the t-shirt he’d just snagged from his wardrobe and spun around to face his mother. “What is what?” he asked, brows pinched in a convincing imitation of confusion.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Harry!” Lily replied sharply. “I know what I saw.”

Quick as a flash, Harry shifted gears. “Then why are you asking?”

Lily’s eyes narrowed. “If you don’t cut the attitude, we’re going to have a serious problem here.”

“Actually, the problem is that you didn’t knock before barging into my room,” Harry shrugged. “Perhaps we ought to discuss your lack of respect for my privacy?”

“That is NOT the point, Harry!” Lily struggled to keep her temper under control. “We need to talk about this.” 

“No, we don’t,” Harry told her, flatly. “I’m of age now. It’s none of your business.”

“I think you’ll find it’s very much my business while you live under my roof!”

“Really? What happened to ‘my body, my rules’?” countered Harry.

“Harry, that is enough!” she snapped back.

Unsurprisingly, the rising volume of their discussion drew James from his study. “What’s going on?” he enquired. 

“Your son,” she told him, “has got himself a tattoo!”

James’s eyes widened. “Have you really? What did you get? Where is it?” 

“James!” Lily admonished him, though she was silently cursing herself for not anticipating his response.

James’s hazel eyes radiated innocence. “What? I’m only showing a fatherly interest!” He almost managed not to smile as gestured towards Harry. “Well, come on then - show me!”

With a sly grin at his mother, Harry slipped the t-shirt off again and turned around, displaying an intricate line drawing of a dragon that twisted down his left shoulder blade. “It’s a Hungarian Horntail.”

“Oh Harry,” she sighed. “What on earth possessed you?”

Harry looked a bit sheepish. “Erm… Ginny said she thought it would look good.”

“Ginny said…” Lily paused as she tried to wrap her head around this new bombshell. “Harry, you went and got a tattoo because a girl told you to? Of all the idiotic, irresponsible…. James, help me out here!”

“I’m hardly in any position to criticise, am I?” laughed James, lifting his shirt to flash the tattoo that sprawled across his ribs - a bouquet of lilies entwined around their wedding date, just above Harry’s name and his date of birth.

“That’s different!” spluttered Lily. “That means something. You didn’t get it on a whim because a girl said so!”

“No,” he conceded. “But I got the first one on a whim because me and my mates got pissed one night and thought it would be a laugh, which is arguably worse.”

Harry’s eyes lit up, ever eager for stories of his father’s juvenile misbehaviour. “Really? You never told me that.”

“Yeah. The one on my arm,” James explained, referring to the words Mischief Managed that wrapped around his bicep, bordered by a trail of paw and hoof prints. “I was the same age as you are now. Me, Sirius, Remus and Peter all got the same one. Your Nanna hit the roof when she saw it.”

“I can understand why,” muttered Lily.

“I seem to remember you telling me it was sexy the first time you saw it.” James’s lips twitched with amusement and Lily felt her cheeks colour at the memory of exactly what had happened immediately after her then-boyfriend had showed her his new tattoo.

Harry, as sharp as ever, did not miss the double standard. “So you like Dad’s tattoos, but there’s something wrong with mine? You know how ridiculous that is, right?”

Lily was forced to concede that he had a point. “I’m sorry, darling,” she sighed. “It’s just that you’ll always be my baby boy, and I want to protect you. I hate to think of you doing something you’ll regret.”

“But I don’t regret it!” Harry replied, hotly. “How do you know that I ever will?”

Lily held up her hands, placating him. “I don’t. And I don’t think your father has ever regretted any of his.“ 

“Nope,” James confirmed. 

“Then what’s the problem?” Harry hauled his t-shirt back on, clearly frustrated. “I really love it, you know. The dragon was Ginny’s idea, but I’ve wanted a tattoo for ages. I didn’t get it on a whim.”

“Harry, I think you’re perfect just as you are,” she explained, “and the idea of you changing anything about yourself feels uncomfortable to me. But I know that you’re old enough to make your own choices, and despite the impression I just gave you, I do respect that.”

Harry shuffled his feet awkwardly. “Thanks, Mum.”

“For what it’s worth, I do think that it’s a beautiful drawing.” In lieu of an olive branch, Lily held out her arms, and her son obliged her with a hug. “So. What did Ginny think?”

Pink spots formed on Harry’s cheeks. He shoved his hand through his hair, and the familiarity of the gesture, so very like his father, made Lily’s heart swell. “She… um… she liked it.” 

James wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at his son. “Oh, I bet she did.”

Harry flushed an even deeper shade of pink. “Dad!”

Lily laughed. “I like that girl. She has good taste.”

[sadgirlbaby]

sub kit walker begging and pleading? 🫶🫶🫶🫶

I apologize if this is not what you expected! :( I tried my best to write something original and uncommon.

"DADDY NEEDS MOMMY TOO" - sub!kit x fem!reader (smut)

CW: cussing (not much), begging (kit), explict sexual speaking, p in v penetration, cumming

SUMMARY: kit and you are a beautiful couple and are parents of two beautiful kids. it was night and your children were just gone to bed, meanwhile kit was needy of you.

"mommy needs some rest, okay?" you sweetly said to your daughter mary (the eldest one) as she entered in your bedroom and told you that she wasn't much sleepy.

"c'mon baby, let's go to bed" kit said and picked her up. you instantly got butterflies as he winked at you and brought mary to her room.

"what was that for?" you asked smirking as he came back to your bedroom. "mmh I don't know..." he said smirking back and pretending he did not know but you were sure that kit had something in his mind.

he got on the bed and laid down next to you, he looked at you and softly kissed your lips. "are you tired?" he asked you still staring at your lips.

"just a bit" you replied. "how about you-" you stopped talking as you saw your husband standing up and pulling down his pants (kit didn't have real pijamas so he basically just slept in his boxers). as his pants dropped on the floor, you noticed he had a big boner. you giggled thiking that you had that control on his body.

"anything wrong?" you sexily asked him since you understood what was going on.

"no, baby" kit replied and put his pants in the closet. he kept his look down as he knew that you were watching him getting undressed.

kit took his shirt off and joined you into bed. as he grabbed the blankets and pulled them towards you, you made he turn towards you and kissed his lips but this time it was much more intense.

kit smirked on your lips and eagerly got above you, letting a soft laugh out. he placed his hands on your hips but then they started to roam all over your body, meanwhile your arms were steady wrapped around his neck.

"someone's horny..." you whispered into kit's ear giving him goosebumps. he just stared at you for a moment and then he hungrily tore your clothes off and threw them on the floor.

"kit! be quiet or the kids will hear us!" you laughed softly.

"baby I don't care" he said as he started to kiss your neck.

"kit!" you scolded him. he giggles down your neck and slowly slid down your belly. "I need you to ride me" he whimpered like a child. you smiled at him and quickly turned the tables, landing on top of him.

you immediately took your panties off and his, too. he impatiently placed his hands on your hips ready to guide you.

"oh my god" kit groaned as you inserted his cock into your entrance. "oh my god…" you repeated as you felt a high level of pleasure spreading through your body.

"please... baby... go faster" he could say. you put your hands on his chest and slowly started to increased the speed on your thrusts. you jumped as hard as you could and loved listening to your husband whining for every little jump.

"mommy! I can't sleep! I need you!" a cute and high-pitched voice said. you immediately stopped jumping on kit's dick and tried to re-catch your breath to respond your daughter.

"daddy needs mommy too right now!" kit suddenly said before you could open your mouth. you tried to keep your laugh and softly hit your husband chest because he was an idiot.

"mommy's coming!" you responded and tried to collect your clothes from the floor.

"mommy, stay please" kit begged you trying to imitate a baby. you just gave kit a look and then left the bedroom.

"mary, come on... why don't you want to sleep?"

"I want to! I close my eyes but I can't fall asleep..." she complained. you sighed tucking her blankets. "mommy can suggests you to imagine things... I used to do so before meeting your dad. all you need to do is closing those little eyes and imagining where you want to be. imagine the people, the place... invent a story in your head!" you said and mary cutely smiled.

she nodded so you kissed her forehead and came back to kit's.

"is she sleeping?" he said while you were closing your bedroom door. "I think she will soon" you replied as you climbed on the bed again and got on kit's cock again.

"oh baby-" he moaned as he didn't expect you would start again that quick.

your hair was a total mess so you just tied it up in a messy pony tail and kept riding kit. he was so exposed - his eyes were half closed and half opened, his head kept tipping back as your jumps became needy and his mouth semi-opened was letting out a series loud moans.

you were quite worried about your daughter hearing you but you just couldn't help jumping harder and harder.

"fuck... holy shit..." he swore. "I'm c-cumming..." he warned you.

"not yet baby…" you moaned. kit just whimpered as he knew he had to hold his orgasm until you would've told him to let it out.

kit leaned over your chest and grabbed one if your breast with his mouth, savouring your skin. you whined as you felt his beautiful tongue moving lustly around your nipple.

"please... please, let me cum... I can't hold it no more..." he whimpered. "damn baby, you drive me crazy..." he kissed you.

it didn't take you too much time to realize that you were actually about cum. "okay, come kit... come into me" you said.

as soon as you said so kit and you burst into a big orgasm and finally overcame the edge of pleasure. kit's liquid just filled your walls and flowed onto your belly out a bit.

"oh my god…" he said completely breathless. you just let yourself fall on your husband’s chest as you were extremely exhausted.

you didn't move, you stayed on kit's cock since you both loved doing the cockwarming thing as an aftercare.

"I think I just impregnated you" he said smiling.

reminder: requests are always open and you can request about whoever you want. currently taking requests for ahs only!

taglist: @demxnicprxncess @kitwalkersgfff @charsdunkie

-> click on the ask/request bottom or just comment if you want to be added in my taglist!

[fountainpenguin]

One of my favorite things about Timmy has always been how sensitive / anxious he is about certain things (i.e. "Hey! You can't say 'Moron' on the radio!"), especially knowing Chloe has a fouler mouth, but gets censored, and I just rewatched "The Good Old Days" and-

Timmy being stunned by his first exposure to "super graphic and gratuitous, yet non-imitable" cartoon violence just gets to me for some reason, sdflkj.

Every now and then, I'm reminded that his dad hovered over him 24/7 until he was 8 and I'm like... "Oh yeah, he was super sheltered and went directly from that into long-term Vicky torments, and now that he's 10 he's gradually getting space and still figuring out what his new normal is."

He watches Captain Green and the Eco-Teens!! He likes Kissy-Kissy Goo-Goo and Maho Mushi!! He's used to glowing swords and laser beams and superpowers! You can't just toss him into a violent hand-to-hand combat show like that!! smh...

Also, I just checked my facts by rewatching some of "Abracatastrophe" and ?? Timmy getting super defensive when he finds out Cosmo and Wanda messed with his dreams... He's instantly upset and asks "So you lied to me?" I know later in the episode, he lashes out when he realizes his parents often lie to him, but to Cosmo and Wanda? Over dreams he was enjoying? hey. what. Deep-seeded trust issues...

I checked "Channel Chasers" for the spelling of Maho Mushi and I like how 18-year-old Timmy has the same shirt and jacket combo as the older brother he wished up in "Oh, Brother..." and in A New Wish, Peri has a similar double swoop in his mullet to 11-year-old Timmy, but Timmy's was longer in the top swoop and Peri's is longer in the bottom swoop <3

[formulaforza]

furniture-- c.leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader word count: 750 a/n: thank u dani for snapping my writers block. art imitates life fr fr here

Are you busy? You texted him, tossed your phone onto the ground next to you and assessed the situation in front of you for the hundredth time. Pieces of wood everywhere, harware everywhere, a cordless drill your dad had given you when you moved out years ago–one he didn’t show you how to use. 

What had started as a simple Friday evening project, rearranging your apartment living room, had transformed into an all-consuming weekend of furniture and clutter shopping. The Ikea box–boxes–sit torn apart on the floor and the instruction pamphlet is disheveled amongst the mess somewhere. 

Never for you, he replies, you roll your eyes. 

You reach for your phone, quickly type out your response. Come over? You text, and immediately follow it up. Not for the reason you think.

He’s knocking on your door twenty-five minutes later, three knocks, pause, and then another. Just like always. You try to manuver your way out of the maze of wooden boards and dowels and hardware and the dreadful drill to get to the door. He’s on his phone when you open it, quickly shuts it off and shoves it in his pocket and smiles at you like an idiot. “Hi.”

“Help.” You say, straight-faced and serious because you’re in so over your head it’s not even funny. He laughs, you swing open the door nad mumble out a preemptive apology. 

He chokes your name out through a laugh as soon as he sees the mess. “What have you done?” 

“Can you help me?” You say over his shoulder, over his shaking head. Disbelief, amazement, fear, probably all of the above because you’ve truly created a monster.

“Cherie, what am I looking at, even?” He scratches the back of his head, his neck, just inside the collar of his t-shirt. 

“Entertainment center.”

He tries not to laugh. Fails miserably. “Are you sure?”

��I think.”

“Oh, mamma mia.” He shakes his head, looks at you and reflects your pout. “You’re so cute.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you going to help me, or not?” You are so far beyond help, mon amour, he sighed, told you to get something to drink and that he would figure out how to undo whatever you’d done and build the furniture the way it was originally intended to be built. “You don’t want my help?”

“I am scared of your help.” You would be offended if everything you’d managed to put together looked even a little bit like what the end goal was, but, he was probably right to be scared by what you could do. You were a little scared by how badly you’d managed to screw it up. It felt like maybe someone should take away your rights to adult if you couldn’t built a simple peice of furniture. “If I teach you, you won’t have to ask for my help next time.”

“This is truly an enlightening experience,” you say, pop another piece of fruit into your mouth. “Dinner and a show.” Who knew watching your guy-who-isn’t-your-guy play with high stakes Swedish legos could be so attractive. It’s just furniture, you’d try to remind yourself, and then he'd use your drill like his dad taught him how to use one instead of just giving him one as a gift. 

“Who gave this to you?” He asked about the drill the first time he picked it up. “I don’t think they liked you much.”

You laughed. He laughed at your laugh. “My dad,” you answered, and he shrugged his shoulders, didn’t confirm or deny his previous claim. You don’t know if he plays it safe because you’ve told him too much–or too little–information.

Despite a few of the screws angled just a bit awkwardly, the only real victim of the entertainment center debacle of 2023 is a single wooden dowel that snapped clean in half. “Do you have super glue?” He asked when the two of you finally stopped laughing about it. I have nail glue, you told him, and only time will tell if the cosmetic solution actually worked. 

“My hero!” You joked, stood up on your tip-toes to throw an arm around him, admired your–his–work now that the console had been set in it’s forever home. “I could not have done it without you.”

“You would’ve figured it out.” He says, smiles down at you like he isn’t a liar. “It just would have been…”

“A disaster?”

He chuckles. “Abstract.”

“Oh.” You laugh, kiss him because how can you not? “You’re sweet.”

[mellaithwen]

All these memories run my mind in slow motion buddie coda to 6x18 “Pay It Forward” inspired by @rosietherivendell 's agonising but amazing post :') After the bridge collapse, Eddie's reminded of the moments right after the shooting... [also on ao3]

tagged in seven sentence sunday by my darlings @homerforsure @littlespoonevan @fcntasmas @nymika-arts @rewritetheending @capseycartwright and @indigo2831 and I'll tag @princessfbi @buckactuallys @renecdote @hopeintheashes @thekristen999 @henswilsons @like-the-rest-of-la @lovebuck @ghosthunterbuck @shortsighted-owl @tripleaxeldiaz and @buttercupbuck <33

Buck says, I’ve got you, when he pulls him out from the camper van, and Eddie can’t shake the sense of déjà vu that haunts him alongside the burning ache of his broken ribs.

At the hospital, in the waiting room, and later still once they’ve all been kicked out and sent home by Athena, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. Can’t ignore the feeling that he’s missing something; that he’s forgotten something.

Now that they’re home, Buck’s pottering away in the kitchen, and Eddie’s been ordered to stay on the couch for the foreseeable.

“Take it easy, I got this,” Buck had insisted when Eddie had made a noise of complaint at being coddled.

I’ve got you.

Christopher’s video game is set to a lower volume than usual, and ever since they’d picked him up from school, he’s been careful to sit with space between them to limit the chances of accidentally elbowing his father in pursuit of a high-score. 

The cold pack Eddie’s holding against his abdomen is getting warm, and he can hear the tell-tale beeps of the timer being set on the oven. A pasta bake, if Eddie remembers correctly. Or. Was it something with broccoli?

Maybe both? 

He yawns. The day’s harrowing events bear down on him, and showering away the dust and grime off of his body had taken more effort than he’d expected. He shifts, and a wave of exhaustion has him blinking slowly in its wake. He wonders what time it is, but his eyes remain closed.

“Food won’t be long,” Buck’s voice drifts from above—closer now, and Christopher responds with a hangry remark. One that, judging by the ensuing complaint of “Buuuck!” resulted in having his hair tousled for the cheek. 

“Just for that you can come help me with the salad,” Buck tells Chris, and Eddie feels his son shift to his feet beside him. 

“Dad’s sleeping,” he says in an exaggerated whisper but Eddie doesn’t catch a response if there is one.  He feels the touch of careful fingers brushing against his own as the not-so-cold pack is gently pried from Eddie’s grasp, and without it to hold on to, the dream comes quick.

He’s on the ground—pinned by the detritus of the camper van—pinned by the threat of a sniper—pinned by the determined look of his best friend crawling across the asphalt to get to him. “Hang on, just hang on!”

Buck grabs a hold of his right arm—in one instance he apologizes in advance, in another, he screams from beneath the fire-truck as he scrambles forward, and in both Eddie yells at the pain as he’s dragged to safety. Pulled to his feet, and held by a steady grasp. Cradled and carried and lifted to safety. I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve—I’ve—I’ve—

The images overlap, memories intertwined, and Eddie struggles to make sense of any of it until he sees the dried blood across the side of Buck’s face. Streaming from his nose, with small grazes by his eye. Red smears on the side of his neck, more still on his white shirt—no, his black turnout—Eddie’s mind switching between the two like some garish flip-book. Night and day, but one constant remains.

Buck.

The last thing Eddie sees clearly in the dream is the image of Buck’s face hovering above him—fear and desperation painfully visible through the violent red splatter on his cheeks. Like an awful piece of performance art, Eddie’s existence has been boiled down to an imitation of a Jackson Pollock painting on his best friend’s shirt.

Is that mine? He wonders with a new kind of horror as his eyes flutter open.

“Are you hurt?” He whispers, still caught in the dream as he slowly wakes to find Buck staring down at him, in the same way he had in the dream. Eddie reaches up to gently touch the small scratches and cuts dotted across Buck’s frowning face, only to elicit a small wince from the other man. 

“You were dreaming,” Buck whispers, but he doesn’t pull away—if anything he leans into the touch, sighs at the feeling. “Dinner’s ready,” he adds softly, making no move to stand from where he’s crouched in front of the sofa. In front of Eddie. 

Eddie doesn’t know how to tell him that the dreams were really memories—nightmarish ones, hidden, buried deep, and knocked loose by the image of Buck’s face—bloodied and shouting—as he pulled Eddie to safety again and again. He doesn’t know how to respond at all, so he lets his thumb drift across the beginnings of a bruise running into Buck’s hairline instead. Close, and intimate; quiet and soft. 

“Were you dreaming about today?” Buck asks gently, his words laced with a painful kind of understanding. Eddie’s voice catches in his throat. Yes, and no, he thinks to say. Why didn’t you tell me? He wonders too.

Before he can say either, Christopher calls out to them from the dining table, washed up and ready to eat, and the moment has passed.

Eddie gives Buck a small smile instead, slipping into the familial domestic routine of dinner with his son and his best friend—his family. 

“Help me up?” He asks with a slight groan as his ribs remind him of the endless ache that stretches closer to Eddie’s heart that he’d ever care to admit. 

“Sure,” Buck says, standing tall, and reaching down, his hand outstretched to Eddie; a steady anchor, a port in the storm. Always.

“I’ve got you.”

[ also on ao3 ]

[f10werfae]

What Binky Fairy?

pairing: Dad!Husb!Chris x Wife!Mom!Reader

summary: Can you please write a one shot of Reader and Chris using the "binky fairy" to get the triplets to stop using their binkies? (requested by anon)

requests are open💌/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Masterlist, full masterlist, taglist form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Come on bubbies, you gotta stop using binkies” Chris said softly, sitting on the plush carpet with his three year old triplets, all their mouths cutely bopping with their binkies, their big eyes just staring up at him. His wife Y/n was on the couch breastfeeding their newest addition, a baby girl called me Lindsey. Isabella the youngest of the triplets simply made grabby hands for her father, Chris' heart instantly melting; his hands cuddling her into his chest.

“You wanna give dada your paci bella?” Chris cooed hooking his finger onto the binky and pulling it out, Bella’s eyes instantly widened before filling with tears, her lips jutting out into a tiny pout. Chris saw his wife in that moment, his wife was just divine, giving him his whole world in the form of three buggers

“b-but dada, bella binky” She whimpered watching her daddy put her binky on top of the coffee table, her eyes going straight to her momma for support, only to find her already shaking her head at the little girl. Y/n herself found it hard to say no, seeing as she tended to spoil them, but who could blame her? Three little Chris Evans ran her household, soon four

Both Noah and Jacob looked at each other realising they were the next targets, so they scrambled to their feet and darted for their momma, instantly shoving themselves into her side carefully so they wouldn’t disturb their baby sister.

“Come on boys, see Bella did it” Y/n cooed pulling her shirt back over her breast, and handing the calm Lindsey over to Chris, his smile widening as the baby let out small coos against her father’s chest; her tiny hand fisting onto his shirt adorably.

“Momma, m-miss binky” Jacob lisped around his pacifier, his tiny hands wrapping as far as they could around Y/n’s body, wanting nothing more than a hug from his mom. Y/n pouted now looking up at Chris who was giving her one hell of a stern look, “Honey. No.” Chris had to close his eyes next, knowing damn well her puppy look would have him folding within seconds

“But Chris what if they really need their binkies, I don’t wanna upset my babies” Y/n whined putting both of the boys onto her lap, both of them playing about with the pendant laced around her neck delicately. “Look clearly they don’t care about the binky fairy then” Chris said starting off his plan

“F-fairy, wha fairy” Isabella shouted getting excited, and stumbling over to the couch, Y/n and Chris chuckling watching the diaper clad toddler tumble her way up to her brothers.

“The binky fairy, needs more binkies so she can give it to smaller babies” Y/n explained, seeing how all three pairs of eyes looked at her in amazement at the mention of a supposed ‘binky fairy’

“L-like windsey” Noah asked looking at his father who was holding up their baby sister, who was now looking at them all with wide doe eyes, following the traits of her older siblings . “Mhm babies like Lindsey, so they can have binkies too”

“Hmm I dont know momma” Jacob said nervously, wrapping his arms around himself to imitate crossing his arms, his binky now hanging off the edge of his lips. Chris smirked seeing the cogs start to turn in Noah and Jacob’s head, watching as they both turned to each other before spitting out the binkies into Y/n’s hand.

“Good job, momma’s so proud of her little angels” Y/n cooed standing up and setting Isabella in the middle of her brothers, all of them watching on as Y/n collected the third binky from the table before walking off into the kitchen.

Chris then sat down onto the couch; Isabella, Noah and Jacob then crawled over to watch over their little sister, watching her tiny mouth let out the cutest noises as her hands reached out to latch onto anything.

“Windsey, you keep binky otay?” Isabella whispered, not so secretly as she thought

“What’re ya saying Bells?”

“Nofin dada, just love her so much” Bella smiled mischievously, before kissing Lindsey on the head

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“You are such a good daddy to our kids, so smart and handsome too” Y/n whispered now that they were in bed; had tucked all the kids into bed, baby Lindsey sleeping peacefully in her bassinet in the connecting nursery.

“Yeah momma? ya think so?” Chris laughed feeling his wife’s hands rake up and down his shoulder, watching as she nodded bashfully, still not used to the way he called her after all these years. His hands dug up her shirt, resting on her warm back, giving it light sensual scratches

“Calm down Y/n/n, can’t have number five comin this soon” He smirked feeling her hand start to wander elsewhere…

“Alright fine” Y/n pouted turning around in the bed, leaving Chris gobsmacked and hating himself for being such an idiot, he just missed out on one hell of a good night.

“W-wait baby, maybe I was a bit too hasty”

———

Taglist Tags (form is up there^^): @ilovereadingfanfics @patzammit @pandaxnienke @stormcloudss @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @chrisevansdaughter @marvelgurl @cevansgurl @evanstanwhore @mirikusashes @taramaria @mysticfalls01 @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @mischiefsemimanaged @uwiuwi @thereisa8ella @bval-1 @diyabhanushali1 @angelmather1 @ravenhood2792 @lastwandastan @feltonswifesworld87 @fdl305 @bluebellsn @mdpplgtz03 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @roofwitty779 @aerangi @s-void @oliviah-25 @nikkitc0703 @meetmeatyourworst @imboredat2am @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mansaaay @adoreyouusugar @annajustwrites @caps-shield1918 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @royalwriteroftheuniverse @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chrisevansangel @tinyelfperson @emvebee @madebylilly @bxdbxtxh15 @tojisbabymomma @kimhtoo17 @itsaylayay1213 @mrspeacem1nusone @ninasw0rld

[honeysunai]

Hostess| Kyoya Ootori x reader

Part eight -  Operation : Make her happy

Pairing : Kyoya Ootori x reader

General rating : Fluff, enemies to love vibes

Word count : 5k

Summary: As only heir to your family you are bound to an arranged marriage with the third son of the powerful house Ootori. His cold behavior is only a mask for you to uncover when you stumble into music room number three.

This weekend, Haruhi and her father invited you to spend some time over their house because Haruhi needs more girl friends and experience sleep overs and such. You laughed at how bold and funny the two of them are and agreed, besides it’s not like you were busy. After quitting the Host Club a day ago and being in your feelings, you finished your homework and were too drained to want to practice any instruments or read anything. A friend would be better than anything else, right now that’s what you need. 

“And so, they kind of kidnapped me to be in the Zuka Club.” Haruhi finishes her story and you laugh. You were both sitting at the table drinking coffee while still in pajamas. 

“They do that often, don’t worry about it, they won’t press you if you say no.” You drink another sip of instant coffee and remind yourself to keep it together, because to this day, you still laugh that the boys at the club had no clue that this liquid gold existed before Haruhi arrived. 

“I have to do some shopping today, I’ve grown out of a few shirts and I wanted to go get some new ones?”

“I’d love to come shopping with you! We can even bring your dad!” Your eyes were sparkling with joy, it’s the first time since you’ve made new friends you were going to shop with them. “If you’re interested, I can take both of your sizes and ask my mom for designer clothes.”

“That’s very kind of you, but we don’t do designer clothes.” She politely declines your offer. Shoot! Of course you went a bit too far, after all, Haruhi is a commoner and doesn’t care to have the fanciest of shirts. 

“Speak for yourself!” Her father barges in the room and proceeds in deep details both of their sizes and and favorite colors. You took some notes before discreetly sending this info to your mom’s secretary even if you had promised Haruhi she won’t get anything. 

“Hey, did you really quit the club?”

You didn’t even hesitate to lie, you just blurred out the truth to her. “Yeah… I just made a fool of myself and I don’t think it would be appropriate to come back after what happened.” 

“I liked having you around, it was refreshing. Kyoya was on someone else’s back.” She jokes and you nudge her with your elbow. “Mori told Kyoya that he was a jerk and Tamaki had a meltdown after you left.”

“I bet they did.” You chuckle. 

“None of us are angry with you, I promise, but I won’t force you to come back if you don’t want to.” How you wanted her to force you into going back.  “Anyways. I don’t know if you need anything, it’s not as fancy as your mother’s couture, but feel free to shop around too.”

“I was planning to.” You smile. “Unlike Tamaki, I’m not awkward around “commoners”.” You try your best to imitate your friend and she laughs. 

She scrunches her nose and smiles. “He does that often doesn’t he?”

“It’s part of his charm.” You add. 

After an eternity in a local shop, Haruhi finally chose the three shirts she wanted. You, on the other hand, only picked out three bracelets, one for you, for Haruhi and Renge… Your two best friends. The one for Renge has large pink quartz beads, Haruhi’s are small red beads and yours has small lavender beads. 

Haruhi was pulling a few dollars out of her wallet, but you stopped her giving the cashier your card instead.

“If that’s alright with you, I’d like to pay for the expenses of today. You’ve only been kind and patient with me since we met. As a friend I would like to return the favor by paying for your purchases.” Your voice was noble and full of good intentions.

She scoffs in shock. “I can’t accept it.” 

“It would be a pleasure, plus you’ve fed me and sheltered me this weekend as your own sister.” She clearly  wasn’t taking your bluff anymore.

“You’re really not going to let it go, huh?” Haruhi asks, a bit annoyed, and you shake your head.

“I’ll even make you feel guilty if I talk long enough.” You joke and she giggles. She finally agreed and soon, you were on your way to her home. 

As you approached the building, you saw a black Mercedes parked in front of Haruhi’s home… It had to be the Host Club, who else would bother Haruhi on a weekend like this? You didn’t really want to see them today, especially after you made up your mind on giving back the uniform tomorrow after club activities. You were too much of a coward to face them now, you wouldn’t be able to do so the day after. 

“I have to go home, I forgot my French homework is due tomorrow.” You tried to lie hoping Haruhi wouldn’t see right through it.

“Aren’t you fluent in french?” She asked.

“Fluent or not, I still have to do it!” Right now she reminded you of Mauri with her cold stare. 

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” She smiled and you were thankful she believed in your lie.

“Haru! Y/n!” Honey’s voice rang like thunder in your ears as he called the both of you. You clenched your jaw tightly before spinning around and met him with a bright smile. “We came to see you.” The rest of the group finally noticed their fellow member had left and joined you three. 

“Well, it’ll have to just be me, y/n has a French homework due tomorrow.” Haruhi smiles at Honey. 

“The homework is for next week, silly.” Tamaki snorted and you wanted to disappear. A soft chuckle echoes to the back of the group and you glared at Kyoya’s shit eating grin. 

You crossed your arms over your chest as you glared at Kyoya. “What are you laughing at, clownfish?” 

“Your poor attempt to flee us is just hilarious to me.” He adds and you swear you saw red. 

Tamaki cuts in before you get the chance to speak. “What he meant was that we are here to spend the most fun day together as a family.” 

“No we are not.” You snort. 

“Yes we are and we are starting with some bookstore fun!” He says proudly as he grabs both you and Haruhi and yanks you inside the Mercedes.

“Tamaki! That’s kidnapping what you just did there!” You yelled as he put your seatbelt on for you.

 “We are on a mission today and it’s to make you happy so stop yelling and enjoy your day with us!” He yells back and you shut your mouth. They wanted to make you happy. Were you unhappy? “We are going to the Nakajima Library.”

You stayed silent the entire ride, you did not want to speak to any of them. They kidnapped you! 

But they did it so you could be happy… It’s still kidnapping!

You’ve arrived at your destination and you can’t believe your eyes… It’s grandiose. You can’t believe you never went there yet. Obviously it’s attached to a university and obviously you don’t go there yet. You are meant to go to the US for your higher studies, but you’re really considering going to this one instead. All of your friend's eyes are on you. You felt Kyoya’s burning holes behind your head, but never looked back at him as you took the first step towards the library.

A smile was pinned on your face as you entered the colosseum shaped library. The dim lights warmed the place with a beautiful orange like light. You felt like you were back in Rome. 

You’ve been to Rome once in your life and you fell in love with the place. It was one of the only family vacations you’ve been on with both your parents. A month in the warm weather of Italy with your loving parents, without their work coming in the way. You strut confidently between bookshelves making sure to browse the titles as you go, it’s mostly books for the students that are part of this university. Tamaki’s bubbly self, followed you like a puppy and offered you books to read. You settled on a science book he offered you that you never knew about and brought it to an empty table so you could read it in peace. 

Peace didn’t last too long, as all of the Host Club brought their own books to your table. To “read”, but other than Haruhi actually reading, the rest of them stared at you. Minutes have passed and they still haven’t stopped watching you. 

“How long should we stay here for?” Hikaru whispers under his breath. 

“Until y/n is satisfied.” Tamaki whispers back aggressively.

Haruhi snorts. “Bold of you to assume she will ever get satisfied after one book.” 

You smile quickly at Haruhi’s words without ever looking up from your book. Soft fingers brushes hair behind your ear. You looked at the person beside you and was surprised Kyoya sat there, his whole body facing you. “Your hair was in the way.” He only whispers before getting back to his book. What was that all about? You feel your cheeks heating up, but shook off that feeling. 

After a few hours of reading and hearing Hikaru and Kaoru groaning, you’ve had enough and Tamaki, once again, dragged you outside like he was kidnapping you, yanking you in the car and you were on your way somewhere else. 

The car ride, this time, seemed more lively and chatty. It was warm and familiar. It was as if everything was normal and you liked that, hell even loved it. 

After a few minutes, the car parked on the side of the road and exited the vehicle. You were left in front of a rather beautiful industrial building that seemed modern and new. 

“Where are we?” You ask as you all walked up to the gates and were allowed inside without question. 

Mori speaks. “Your mother told us that you like that very fancy coffee.” This is the new factory of the French coffee brand you always drink at home. “Tamaki’s French heritage helped us get inside.”

“The owner knows my father, so we were able to get a free tour of the factory and some samples!” The blond man says excited as you meet a beautiful tall woman waiting for you at the door. 

“Welcome! We are really excited to have you visit our factory Miss y/n.” The woman shook your hand. “I’m Elise Hanako.” The combination of the French and Japanese names made you uneasy, but for politeness sake you ignored that funny feeling and smiled properly. “Danuja Hanako, the owner and also my father, gave me his property in Japan so that we can localize our french coffee.” 

“It’s an honor to be in your presence, Miss Hanako.” You were eager to visit the factory. 

“I’ve been informed that you are a huge fan of our brand.” You blushed. “That’s great! I do hope our factory will live up to your expectations.” She adds and the automatic doors behind her open letting all of you enter the building.

This place did not look like a coffee factory, it looked like a high tech law firm or some sort. The interior was in this mix of black and dark wood with plants here and there. Everyone was dressed in a proper way, just like at your father’s workplace. Miss Hanako explains that the magic happens behind the scenes and proceeds to show you where the coffee beans were sorted out and how they were packaged. People dressed like scientists were inspecting every bean before sending it in the “good bin”... Maybe that’s why your coffee was so expensive. 

The factory was huge and you appreciated every second Hanako spoke up to explain how things were made and was kind and patient over your millions of questions you asked over the tour. 

“This concludes our tour and I do hope you enjoyed yourselves.” You all answered with a polite “yes, thank you” and Miss Hanako was pleased with that. “I almost forgot! I have two bags of our new batch that’s coming up next month, Cherry Flower and Chocolate Pecan Caramel.” She snapped her fingers and one of the workers carefully placed two bags in your arms. “My assistant sent you my personal email, so please do give me feedback.” You were in awe. “Get home safe kids.” She smiled before you exited the building to the car. 

You were shocked that they would go beyond anything to make you happy, they were true friends. “Thank you–”

“Don’t thank us yet!” Tamaki shouts over you. “One last stop, the orchestra.” The Orchestra!?

“You don’t mean–” 

“The best musicians around Japan? Yes, I mean that Orchestra.” He smirks. You were there at the presale, but never got the chance to get tickets. You wondered how they got eight of them. “But we can’t go dressed as commoners.” He adds and Haruhi slaps him behind his head. 

You didn’t look awful at all, you thought you all were a bit underdressed for the occasion, but no one would notice. Right?

“Pick whatever outfit you want, it’s on Kyoya.” Tamaki bumps his friend with glasses and he smiles as if he was forced to do so. You gave him a look that almost said : “You just learned that as well?” You all stopped at The Thread Maker, the town's finest clothing store. 

“All of you, pick an outfit I’ll pay for it.” He adds and you smile at him, a bold and bright smile. 

You all scattered around the store and looked around. You kind of wanted to take advantage of Kyoya and decided to go to the more expensive part of the already expensive store. You didn’t even have to think twice, the dress in front of the mannequin was the one you would buy. No price tag = pricey. It’s a scarlet red Queen-Anne shape with a leg slit dress. It’s a fully flared gown, floor length with a corset built in with embroidered floral details all over it. It was from your second favorite designer (after your mother) Teuta Matoshi. Honey’s voice was heard behind you, ordering a worker to let you try it on. You were dragged by another worker inside a cabin… After this day, you won’t let anyone drag you anywhere ever again!

You look at yourself in the mirror and surprisingly it’s a perfect fit all the way around, not too long, not too short, not too big or tight. It was perfect and you looked absolutely beautiful. 

When you came out of the dressing room, you only found Haruhi in another beautiful pink dress that made her look more feminine. The dress was tight on her and she is probably making Tamaki drool, because you sure would’ve. The guys were sitting on the couch in complete silence, their eyes all over you both. 

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Haruhi asked and none of them were answering. You couldn’t help but glance at Kyoya that had his eyes on your body already. You put on a show and twirled.

“My idea of a perfect day would be if you all were dressed too and not undressing us with your eyes.” You chuckle and they all cough and grunt, suddenly bashful of their actions. They rushed to get a suit and you stood there with Haruhi enjoying each other’s company. 

They all come out at the same time from the dressing room and they all are dressed the same, black and white suit with black ties. They look amazing! The last one to come out was Kyoya and when he appeared out the curtain he was playing with a red bow tie around his neck. The other’s were holding their laughter at the sight of him being the only one with a bow tie. 

You chuckled under your breath as you approached Kyoya to fix his matching bow. He froze under your touch and you just couldn’t hold your giggles any longer. “Tamaki said we would all wear bow ties because that would’ve made you laugh, but it seems I’ve fallen right into his trap.” He grunts. “I look ridiculous.” 

“You do.” You smile. “In a good way.” You add. “We are going to be late if we keep mocking our dear Kyoya!” Mori gave you his arm that you gladly took and walked back to the car where you’d wait for Kyoya to pay. 

The conversation between all of you was even more lively and joyful, you were really excited to go see The Orchestra.  Once you arrived at the place, you weren’t confident that this was the auditorium they usually play at, but you let it go once you entered and saw the beauty of the place you were in. Red walls and gold decors, with crystal chandeliers made you feel like you were in a movie. Mori took your arm and led you to golden doors that two workers opened grand and wide for you to realize this was an empty ballroom. 

You were confused and asked: “Are we early?”

“We are right on time.” Kaoru answer. 

The empty room made you a bit uneasy, but once you stepped inside the large red curtain lifted to reveal The Orchestra on stage. It’s a private concert… You spin around to meet Tamaki’s gaze and he smiled proudly at the utter shock on your face. 

“May I have this dance?” Mori asked you and you nodded, not entirely sure of what to do. He leads you to the center of the ballroom and once you do, the musicians start to play. Melodious sounds of violin echoes in the room, followed by loud cellos. Tears were filling your eyes, but you blinked them away. They organized this whole day for you, and only you.

Mori spins you around, letting go of your hand so you were now partnered with Kyoya who held you tightly against him as you swayed with him. The other’s picked each other as partners and danced to the same rhythm as you were with Kyoya. You both stayed silent as he twirled you around slowly and brought your back against his chest, swaying you gently this way.

“I did not know you danced this well.” You whispered with a hint of humor. 

He brought his lips close to your ear and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “I’m glad my efforts are being appreciated, these last four years of dance lessons are being used well.” At that you laughed. 

You danced for hours with your friends to the most beautiful songs who, on multiple occasions, brought tears. 

At the very end of the concert, you all applaud the musicians and the conductor for their performance. You were ready to leave, but an unfamiliar voice called your name, and it was none other than Ayaka Saito, the cello player you looked up to since forever, walking towards you. You felt your knees go weak, she was the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, she looked like she was royalty. 

“Y/n, this is for you.” She smiles as she hands you the bow that she used tonight to play with her autograph on it. “I heard you’re a great musician, with lots of potential.” You couldn’t seem to stop smiling without ever saying words. “Our manager would be interested to hear you play, especially if what your friends said is true. There would be a spot for you once you graduate if you impress Sara Nakamura.” Your jaw was on the floor. The Sara Nakamura! She is the face of the classical music industry in the modern era and she wants to hear you play? You were on the verge of fainting. 

You finally spoke to her in the calmest way possible. “It’s an honor to hear this coming from you, you are the one who made me start to play cello.” She smiles even more. “I would be even more honored to play for you and Miss Nakamura.” 

“Her assistant will send you information concerning this invitation.” She adds. “I bid you all good night.” She says before giving you a friendly hug. You were going to faint.

Once again you had to be dragged inside the car because you were frozen in place. You talked like a maniac the whole way back to your house. You were so happy to have finally met your musical idol tonight and that you’ve been given an extra rare opportunity. 

As the vehicle parks in front of your front gate you finally take a few deep breaths, the adrenaline wearing off. You hugged all of your friends inside the car and exited the car.

“We will see you for an early meeting tomorrow morning!” Tamaki smiles and yours drops. 

“Look guys…” You sigh. “I really appreciate what you did for me all day, but I’m okay I promise, I’m not sad.” It was a plain lie. “I just don’t have the heart to be the Host you want me to be anymore.” You tried to give your friends the coffee beans from France and returned the bow to them, but none of them tried to take it. 

“Keep it, please.” Tamaki’s soft smile broke your heart. “It’s a gift for you.” 

You nod and thank them again without ever glancing at Kyoya, you turned your back to them and headed inside your home. They did succeed to make you happy today, but when the door closed behind you, tears were falling down your cheeks as you held the objects tightly to your chest.

You drop your neatly folded uniform on the tea table and sigh. You really loved your club, but it was better this way. You linger a while staring at the blue fabric that you were giving up. You were never one to give up, but recently you have. You gave up on Kyoya, your family duties, your plan to get another financé, you also gave up on your club, your friends… You were tired and disappointed in yourself. You wanted to get better and be better.

“You don’t have to do that, you know?” A deep voice makes you gasp out loud by surprise. Kyoya. 

Your hand was on your heart. “Good God! You scared me.” 

He did not care for your reaction. “You don’t have to leave the club.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Did they ask you to tell me this?”

“They have told me multiple times, but I chose to.” He starts. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry won’t change my mind.” You scoff.  

“I know, you are stubborn as a mule.” He lightly chuckles.

“If that’s all, I’ll go. I have somewhere else to be.” You lied and started to walk towards the exit, but he put himself in front of you. 

“Why did you do all of this?” You were confused. “Why did you want Koichi over me?”

You scoff, absolutely baffled by what he was asking. “Because you don’t love me, Kyoya.” It was as simple as that. “Because liking on only one side is just too hard to do. You refuse to fall in love with me no matter how much I try to be perfect for you.” He was silent. You took that time to walk past him in a rush but stopped as you heard his voice once again. 

“I can’t fall in love with you. I– I can’t because if I do I am afraid I’ll end up doing the same mistake my parents did. They fell in love and then… They didn’t. It ruined the relationships between the family.” The look in his eyes… It was painful and sad, Kyoya was hurt. It probably took a lot of his courage to finally admit you spent months trying to figure out. Seeing him lose his composure in front of you saddened you. “It became a competition between me and my brothers, my mother being sad all– all of the time… My father… He doesn’t give any of us breaks, he’s relentless and he just cares about success. He doesn’t care about us, my brothers and I… My mother, his own wife who he is supposed to love and to cherish…” He was out of breath, all these feelings were finally out. “That’s why I can’t fall in love with you, because I don’t ever want you to end up like my mother if I end up like my father.”

It took you a good ten seconds to analyze what he had just confessed to you. All of it. Your heart broke for him and his family. No matter how much you wanted to console him, that was not what you needed to say. “That’s not good enough.” Was what came out of your mouth. He was perplexed. “That’s not good enough.” You repeated. “It’s not good enough for all of the times you put yourself in the way of a guy I talked to. For all the times you were kind and flirty and then you weren’t. It’s just not good enough.” He was hurt by your words, you knew it. His eyes couldn’t lie. “Is this hypothesis worth more than hurting me?” He doesn’t answer, but never breaks your gaze. You wanted to break and cry, but you stood your ground proud and strong just like your father taught you. “I can’t marry someone who’s afraid to take a leap and fall in love with me. I guess trying to make you feel what I felt was too demanding.”

“You loved me?”

“Does it matter? You don’t care, Kyoya. You don’t care about what my favorite songs are, you don’t care about my favorite books… Even Koichi was interested in what book was next on my list and he didn’t even love me one bit.” You scoff. 

“It’s Lucy by the sea.”

“What?”

“Your next read. It’s Lucy by the sea.” You were confused as to how he knows. “I got a hold of your list from your maid to know what book I should buy you next, in every stupid edition possible because that would make you happy. But no… I don’t care, right?” You were taken back from this confession. “I wore that stupid tie to make you laugh, I organized the whole day with Tamaki so that you would be able to understand that I am sorry.” He adds and something in your heart pinches. He made it all happen so that you would forgive him, but that’s not what you needed nor wanted from him.

“It’s still not enough.” You whisper with tears in your eyes. You blink them away before turning your back ready to leave the music room, you had enough. 

“Fuck.” He whispered before running after you, yanking you to the side to trap you between the wall and him. You wanted to push him away, but couldn’t as he lowered his head to crash his lips against yours. It was sudden and gentle. His lips tasted like mint and were so soft against yours. He was so careful with his next movements, his warm hands cradled your face opening your mouth just enough so his tongue could cross the borders of your lips to devour you entirely. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck asking, begging for more. More touch, more passion, more of anything, you only wanted him. You raked your hands in his hair and fuck did it do something to him, his hand gripped your hips with such strength moving you against his thigh between your legs. It was so erotic you moaned against his lips which made him smirked. He pulled away enough to look at you in the eyes, truly look at you. “Don’t cry because of me.” He whispers stroking your cheeks so, so slowly, you want to melt in his touch. You pull him by his tie so his lips are on yours again. Your hands roamed his chest and shoulders and my god he was muscular, the uniforms didn’t do him a favor.  His hands were snacking around your waist underneath your dress shirt, memorizing the curves of your body. His touch was warm and soft, you were hypnotized by him. He slowly pulled away to kiss your cheek, then all the way up your jaw to leave one soft kiss under your ear. 

“Do you know how long I've wanted this?” He whispers in your ear. You were so warm, you thought perhaps you were running a fever, but one of Kyoya's hands carefully unbuttoned two of the buttons of your dress shirt, you knew you weren’t having any fever dreams. You looked up at him and you could see his gaze linger on your chest slightly exposed before facing you again. Hunger and lust was the only thing you could see in him. Without ever looking away, his fingers pushed the collar of your shirt to the side so your shoulder was bare for him. His featherlike kisses tickled your skin as he left a trail of them to the side of your neck all the way to your shoulder. He gently nibbled the sensible skin with his lips and tongue teasing you in a way that had you softly moaning, reprimanding for more. He smirked against your bare shoulder before biting the skin that had you rolling your eyes. 

The bell snapped the both of you out of our interaction making him pull away from you. You sigh in disapproval, you didn’t want him to leave now that you truly kissed him. He went to open the door, but stopped without looking at you. “Keep the uniform,” He spoke slowly : “and don’t replace me.” That’s what it was about… He wanted to prove you needed him, that he was better. He was jealous. Two can play that game especially if you are better at it.

You were back in your uniform and ready to conquer the day as you walked into the Music Room number 3 the day after, slamming your hand on the tea table in front of Tamaki. “I want in.”

“Excuse you?” He asked before sipping his tea. 

“I want my role back in the Host Club, I am so sorry for how mean I was that day. But this club means a lot to me and I made a promise to you that I want to keep.” You were practically begging for him to take you back.

“What changed?” Hikaru asks.

“I guess your operation worked a little too well.” You smirk.

“You’re still in the Host Club, you don’t need permission to come back.” Tamaki smiles and you nod. You turn back to Kyoya and he smirks at you before deviating his gaze back to his laptop.

Maybe it's not about finding someone else, maybe you just need another approach towards Kyoya and if it’s through challenges and working each other up that you’ll get through him, so be it.

AN: Hi everyone! So sorry it took so long for this update, this chapter was written, deleted, written, deleted... like a thousand times. I hope this chapter filled your heart with some Kyoya love. I hope you all had wonderful holidays and since today, for me, is still Dec 31. I hope you all have a great 2023 filled with love and happiness! I promise y/n and Kyoya will get some happiness and love in 2023 as well.

— 𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐬

✧ @gay-noble @vanicogh @hopeless-romanticnamed-s @idktbhloley @p1nkliquor @hellokittykuroo @batboob @kisskissshutmydoor @lemonrolls @hoku-killer @sunukissed @jessiegerl @lunalily19 @i7zha @asrainterstellar @arimoony24 @simp-lythebest @fan-g0rl @randobeetlehouse @glomp-me @yeeyeebabe @maackiimoo @kaelysian @noendingtolove @luminaaz @thewendyslogo @eri0-0 @arielbillyboy16 @aangsupremacy @yuriklol @lillunna @lostsomewhereinthegarden @chocorenchin  @sukcama @bratb1tch @topmeyelena

[miryum]

"The Cruise"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Y/n was incredibly proud of her outfit. She had scoured all of Gotham’s tackiest stores and invaded their clearance sections, picking out the most obnoxious outfits she could find. Now, standing in the precinct, Y/n was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. Her goal was to dress like a suburban dad and she had succeeded. “Okey dokey.” Y/n told Steph, “the car is picking Jason and me up in two minutes. You cool with keeping tabs on my cases while I'm on the cruise?”

Steph nodded. “You bet. I hope you two have a great time. You guys definitely deserve it.”

“I am psyched to go on this week-long cruise, just sitting around doing nothing,” Y/n gushed.

Jason finished talking with Dick when he walked over to Y/n, placing an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You ready to go?” he asked. “I signed us up for ballroom dancing ‘cause it seemed pretty cool. Is that okay?”

Y/n nodded, beaming up at him. “Good-bye, coworkers!” she called. “Or as they like to say at sea… honk! Honk!” She imitated a ship horn, pulling down on an imaginary rope.

An hour or so later, Jason helped Y/n out of the car as she grinned, “this is so great.” The boat they were taking was a majestic thing and both of them were excited to have some time off from work. “Seagulls, check. The ocean, check. A gang of oldies in short shorts, check, check, check.” Y/n grimaced as a pack of elderly people walked past, showing way too much skin for her liking. 

“We are definitely on a cruise,” Jason muttered.

As the pair walked up to the ship, an attendant beamed and said in a customer service voice, “Welcome aboard!”

Y/n thanked the attendant before Jason pulled her away to their room. “So I was thinking we could partake in some vigorous activity before relaxing?” He smirked as he pulled open the door.  

Y/n hummed and laughed lightly. “Oh, that sounds like a good idea.” She tugged on Jason’s shirt and Jason pulled her towards the bed.

Suddenly, before the couple could continue, an announcement came over the loudspeakers in the hallway. The voice carried into their room and called, “The all-ages piano lounge is now open and serves bottomless margaritas.” Jason and Y/n looked at each other, not impressed. Jason buried his face in Y/n’s neck and began peppering kisses on her skin when the announcement continued and said, “we also serve a drink with a potato skin in it.”

Y/n popped up and exclaimed, “ohh! To the all-ages piano lounge!” 

Jason groaned and practically collapsed on her, but couldn’t help but chuckle. He muttered something and pressed a kiss to her jawline before saying, “alright, let’s go.” 

Y/n smiled and kissed him lightly. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

“Welcome aboard, ladies and gentlemen, but especially ladies,” a man said seductively into a microphone when Y/n and Jason walked hand-in-hand into the piano lounge.

Y/n’s brows furrowed and she mumbled, “I know that voice.”

“Get ready. It's time for some smush songs,” the man said before he started to play the piano.

Y/n gasped dramatically and her head whipped to stare at the man on stage. “Roy Harper! The Red Arrow. He's here.” Jason looked around before finally noticing the man on stage.

From behind the piano, Roy said, “we got songs about smushing, songs for smushing to, songs for the kids. This is the all-ages piano lounge. My daughter loves my songs,” he commented.

“I can't believe he's here! I've been hunting him for years and now fate has dropped him right into my lap,” Y/n cried. “He's gonna be so surprised when he sees me.”

“Hey, L/n, you made it!” Roy called from up on the stage, waving enthusiastically. A spotlight moved to shine on Y/n and Jason. “What took you so long, darling?” Jason sighed and his face deadpanned.

“Okay, seems like he's playing it pretty cool,” Y/n muttered. “He’s probably more surprised on the inside.”

“Uh-huh,” Jason couldn’t help but chuckle tiredly, knowing that their entire vacation was now to be preoccupied by Roy Harper.

At the end of Roy’s song (Y/n had very patiently waited until his set was over), Y/n and Jason cornered Roy. “L/n, it's no coincidence you're on a ship. You won a free cruise without entering a contest.”

“You did what?!” Jason interrupted. 

Roy ignored him. “How do you think that happened?”

“I don't know.” Y/n stuck her tongue out, refusing to be caught in Harper’s trap. “Maybe it's because I bought Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked, and the Internet realised that cruises were one of my interests.”

“Great film,” Roy complimented. “Why does no one acknowledge what great range Matthew Gray Gubler has to go from Criminal Minds to Simon?!”

“Damn straight.” Yn snapped her fingers in appreciation. 

“But the tickets are all me,” Roy admitted. “I brought you here 'cause I'm in peril.”

“Pfft. Peril.” Y/n scoffed. Jason wandered away to check out the buffet.

“Don't ‘pfft’ my peril.” Roy wagged his finger, one hand on his hip sassily.

“Pfft,” Y/n repeated.

“Somebody's trying to kill me,” Roy insisted. “I need protection, so I sent for my best friend.”

“I am not your best friend,” Y/n hissed. “I'm your worst enemy. Get that through your head.”

“It's this kind of bickering that makes us such an adorable couple.” Roy held up his hands in a heart. 

Jason returned from the buffet, holding a plate piled high with food. He offered a doughnut to Y/n and she took it, kissing him on the cheek before glaring back at Roy. “Whatever, Roy. You're under arrest.”

“You can't arrest me, darling,” Roy raised a brow, smirking. “We're in international waters, which is also why I can smoke as much weed as I want. Welcome to the high seas.” He snickered.

Y/n shook her head. “No, no way that that's true. Jay, tell me I can arrest him right now. I wanna arrest him!” She stamped her foot.

Jason shrugged and said, “Harper’s right. We have no jurisdiction. Technically this boat flies under the flag of Uzbekistan.”

“Uh-oh.” Roy said in a high, breathy voice, holding a theatrical hand up to his mouth. “Your boy knows about the Uzbeks.” 

“But the captain can have him arrested,” Jason reassured Y/n. “He has total authority on this boat.”

“Perfect.” Y/n grinned triumphantly. “Captains love me. Just wait until he or she finds out they're employing a criminal.”

Unfortunately, when the trio found the captain on the bridge, the captain said, “Yeah, about forty percent of the crew are criminals. It's hard to find normal people who want to live on a boat. I, myself, am a tax evader.” 

Jason raised a brow and Roy said, “yeah, if there’s anyone to use the fluffy pink handcuffs on, it’s him. Not Y/n/n. Or me.” Roy winked at Jason. Jason shot back an unimpressed look.

“I just need him locked up till we get back to Gotham,” Y/n pleaded. “Can't you just throw him in boat jail?”

Both the captain and Jason said, “It's called the brig.”

“How do you know so much about boats?” Y/n whispered to Jason.

“Roy’s my best lounge singer, and I need to keep people distracted,” the capitan defended. “Just between us, we're nearly out of ranch dressing.”

“On day one?”

“These people are animals. Listen, as long as he's on my boat, Roy Harper is a free man.”

Y/n had to resist punching the man.

“Jaybird, Y/n, welcome to my cabin, aka the Boom-Boom Stateroom.” Roy opened a cabin door with a flourish to reveal a grande suite. The large bed was covered in rose petals, ambient music was playing in the background and there was a full jacuzzi in the bathroom.

Jason’s lips parted and he had to admit that he was impressed. “This is a royale level suite,” he said. “This is for first-classers only.”

“Little perk of being Carousel Cruises' entertainer of the year,” Roy boasted. “You're welcome to chill here. It's the least I can do to thank you for protecting me.”

“Never.” Y/n poked him in the chest. “This protection scam is a scam. Do you honestly think you can fool me again just because you've successfully done it numerous times before?”

“My old boss wants me dead,” Roy protested. “I've been laying low on this ship with Lian, but I got word from a friend that they found me. I got Lois to take Lian in for a couple weeks since there's a hitman coming to end my beautiful life. That's why I sent you the free tickets.”

“No! No, no way. I'm not buying it. You can't get away from me again. Jason and I are gonna spend every second of our romantic cruise watching you.” She looked back at Jason and hesitated. “Assuming that’s okay?”

Jason was starting to think that Y/n had a bit of an unhealthy obsession with the Red Arrow. But if it was important to her, then he would go along with it. “Yep. That's what we're gonna do.” He flopped down on the bed, hoping that this thing with Roy would wrap up so he could spend some time with his girlfriend. 

“We have to find the hitman before he finds me. I'm guessing this'll take us all over the boat. That's an ENAC sitch right there. That’s ‘Every Nook And Cranny.’”

“Okay, so where's this hitman, Harper?” Y/n sighed.

“Look, I don't know who they sent, but he's on the boat.” Roy pulled out a sheet of paper. “Check out this manifest. Somebody boarded in New York named Henry Coles.”

“Henry Street and Coles Street, that's the corner of your old chop shop in Gotham,” Y/n said immediately. “It’s an alias.”

“My porter buddy checked out Henry Coles' cabin,” Roy continued. “He hasn't been in it yet. He's hiding somewhere on this boat ready to jump out and kill me at any moment. Probably creepin' around in my closet.”

“Or stowed away in a lifeboat,” Y/n murmured.

“Or hiding in a wall,” Roy added.

“Or holed up in the engine room,” Y/n grinned.

“Camouflaged in the shrubbery,” Roy snickered.

The two of them pointed at each other and said, “predator style.”

Y/n then remembered her place and groaned. “No. We are not having fun. You will not suck me in with your wily charms.”

Later that day, Jason had convinced Y/n to go to the exhibits on the cruise ship. “Oh, this ship was a transporter during World War two,” he oohed. “Did you know that they actually had to turn the barracks into another medical office because there were so many injured soldiers? The ship got shot at multiple times and sustained damage to the hull, it it’s still operational. It was bought by this cruise company thirteen years ago.” Y/n hummed along. Usually, she would be fascinated by this (or at least pretend to be fascinated), but her gaze was currently focused on Roy Harper. “Oh, and the ship fought in four battles. I wonder what types of weapons were used…” He glanced at Y/n, but seeing that she was more focused on Roy, he sighed and trudged away to explore on his own.

“Hey, little advice,” Roy called from where he was standing. “Jason is great. If you want to keep him, you may wanna be more receptive to his interests.”

“Now you're taking it too far, Harper.” Y/n shook her head and scoffed. “I don't need relationship advice from my criminal archnemesis.”

Roy held up his hands in mock defence. “I just want to see you two happy.”

“No. This is just another one of your lies, just like your fake hitman.”

“There is a hitman on this boat!” Roy sighed in exasperation. “Henry Coles is coming to kill me.”

“Excuse me?” An old man turned around, his voice wavering.

“What?”

“You said my name,” the old man smiled kindly. “I'm Henry Coles.”

“You're Henry Coles?” Y/n stared at him, her eyes wide.

“According to my medical alert bracelet.” The man nodded and tapped his medical bracelet. The old man stared down at his bracelet, confused for a moment, as if he was checking to see if he really was Henry Coles.

“Well, this is interesting.” Y/n exaggerated her words as she skipped over to the old man. “This is Henry Coles! Let's just take a look at that.” She took the old man’s wrist, briefly checking it before saying, “Oh, it says, ‘Roy Harper is a liar.’”

“Actually, it says I'm a fall risk,” the man corrected.

“Okay, you're kind of ruining my burn here, Henry,” Y/n whispered. Henry Coles shuffled away and Y/n turned towards Roy, victorious. “I knew it. I knew Henry Coles was a ninety-year old man with type one diabetes and emphysema. Obviously, I didn't know those specifics, but I knew you were lying.”

Roy frowned and crossed his arms. “So Henry Coles wasn't the guy. My bad. There's still somebody on this boat who wants to kill me!”

“You're trying to get away, and it's not gonna happen. We're spending the rest of this trip in your cabin.” Jason found his way back to Y/n and wrapped his arms around her waist. He rested his head on her hair and sighed, feeling more relaxed when he inhaled her scent. “Jason and I will take sleep shifts to make sure someone's always watching you.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel super safe,” Roy said. They started back towards the Boom-Boom Stateroom. Y/n took Jason’s hand. Roy grinned and casually said, “And if you want to smush, I have a sleep mask and noise cancelling headphones.”

Jason sighed and rolled his eyes. “Can't we just lock him up in there? Do we really have to trade off sleep for the next six nights?”

Y/n took a breath and said softly, “I know. I'm sorry.”

Jason bit the inside of his cheek and muttered, “fine. I get it. He's the Red Arrow.” In a tense voice, he said, “You take the first shift.”

“Thank you so much!” Y/n cupped Jason’s cheek. “You're the best. I lo-” Y/n was cut off by the shattering of mirror glass and the banging open of the room closet. A man barrelled into the room and tackled Roy. Y/n tensed up and tugged the man off of Roy. “Hey, GCPD! Let him go!”

The man punched Y/n and Jason practically growled. Jason wrenched the man off of Y/n and threw him to the floor. The man scampered to his feet and ran out of the room. 

Roy stood up and ran an irritated hand through his hair. “Now do you believe me? That guy was trying to kill me!”

“Alright, fine! Someone wants you dead!” Y/n threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “You win.”

“Well, thank god you were there, L/n. I knew you wouldn't let your best friend die.”

“I'm still gonna arrest you.” Y/n grumbled, “I just can't do that if you're dead.”

“Whatever you gotta tell yourself,” Roy chuckled. “Baby steps.” Roy nudged Jason and tsked as if sharing a secret, “it's hard getting her out of her shell.”

Jason sighed and crossed his arms. “Tell me about it. Every time we get emotional, she deflects it. I know it has to do with her childhood, but-”

“Okay, can we focus up here?” Y/n interrupted, shooting both men a nasty glare. “We still don't know what your hitman looks like, so we're gonna have to flush him out. Wait a minute. Where do the toilets on this boat go?”

“You don't want to know.” Roy shook his head.

“The pool?” Y/n asked, aghast.

“Ocean.”

“Oh, that's even worse. That's where my shrimpies live.”

“He'll probably try to hit me at my show this afternoon. At least I'll die doing what I love: getting people horny at sea.” Roy placed a hand over his heart.

“Yeah. Yeah. That's gross,” Jason grumbled. 

“Alright, here's the plan. We're gonna leave you alone on stage and dangle you as bait,” Y/n said.

“Damn! Bait dangling?” Roy clicked his tongue, feeling the burn.

“If we're up on stage with you, it could spook him,” Y/n explained. “We'll blend into the crowd, and we'll take him down before he even gets to you.”

“But if you're gonna blend in, you got to blend in.”

Jason held out an arm to Y/n and she took it, beaming up at him. Both of them were in ugly neon shirts and thick white sneakers. “Shall we?” Jason asked in a posh accent..

“Ladies and gentlemen, widows and widowers,” Roy whispered into the microphone. “Welcome to the all-ages piano lounge adults only show. This is a little song I wrote myself, called Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra.” Y/n snickered before Roy sang, “Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra!”

“It's so crowded in here, and the lighting is way too sexy to see anything,” Y/n whispered to Jason.

Just then, Roy started singing, “Right there on the floor… Is the man you're looking for…” Y/n and Jason looked around, confused. “He's right in front of you… A little bit to the left… My left, my left, my left, my left,” Roy corrected the couple and Jason and Y/n shuffled to the correct direction. “Come on this way… He's in a red shirt… No, not the Asian dude… I'm talking about a bright red shirt…” Roy grinned and crooned, “That's the man you're looking for… That's the man you've been looking for!”

“I got him. Follow me,” Jason muttered before losing sigh of the man. “Ah, come on.”

“This is still a love song,” Roy serenaded.

“Where'd he go?” Y/n frowned, looking around.

Roy announced loudly, “Well, that ends my show, all of a sudden. You've been a great crowd. Thank you very much.” Both Y/n and Jason looked up to the stage where Roy was being led away by another man who was holding a knife to Roy’s neck.

Y/n and Jason exchanged a look before running after Roy. They followed him to a narrow hallway behind the stage. “Y/n/n, help me. I don't want to die,” Roy whimpered. “Lian needs me…”

Y/n’s eyes flashed with loyalty and fear. “Okay, just put the knife down,” she instructed the hitman. “There's no murder in the all-ages piano lounge.”

“Screw you, slut,” the hitman spat.

“That’s not a very all-ages thing to say.” Jason’s jaw twitched and he stepped towards the hitman.

The hitman shoved Roy aside and lunged at Jason. Jason easily wrestled the man to the floor and secured the hitman’s hands together with an electrical cord that Y/n threw him.

After Y/n checked up on Jason and ensured he was okay, she called out, “you okay, Roy?”

A door slams from behind him and Y/n’s whirled around. “No. No, no, no, no, no,” she whimpered. She ran to the railing of the ship, whiplashing from the sudden stop. Jason bolted up behind her and placed a steading hand in her back. Roy Harper waved up at the pair from a small lifeboat. “Bye, L/n! Thanks for saving my life!”

“No. Roy! Don't do this!” Y/n cried. “No, not again!”

“Sorry to do this to you, darling,” Roy called through a bullhorn. “I saw an opening, and I had to take it. I can't go to jail. I'm too cool. Also, who will take care of Lian?”

“You'll never get away from me, Harper!” Y/n’s fists clenched around the ship’s railing.

“I can't hear what you're saying.” Roy put a hand up to his ear. “You're really far away. I'll just assume you're finally admitting we're best friends.”

“That is not what I'm saying!” Y/n insisted.

“Thank you. It means a lot to me!” Roy grinned and said, “enjoy the rest of your cruise. Just remember, you got a fine man. Check your pockets!” Jason pulled out a key card from his pocket and Roy announced, “Boom-Boom Stateroom, baby!”

“Thank you, but this isn't over!” Y/n screamed. “I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth!”

“I love you too!” Roy blew her a kiss. “I'm so proud of us for being able to say it. What are you still standing there for? Go smush!”

“Roy! No!”

A couple hours later, Y/n and Jason were laying in bed, tuckered out from the day’s activities. Y/n mumbled into space, “if the toilets drain into the ocean, does that mean a tiny shark could swim up and bite me in the butt?”

“No, not at all,” Jason muttered back.

“Lame.” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Look.” Jason rolled over on his side to look at Y/n. “I know you're bummed about the Red Arrow so if it's any consolation, we could spend the rest of the cruise doing absolutely nothing.”

“That is so incredibly sweet, but no way,” Y/n smiled softly, gazing over at Jason with soft vulnerability and care in her eyes. “We have a pretty cool activity to do.” She laughed lightly and said, “you'll never guess what starts in three minutes.”

“Ballroom dancing!”

“Oh, so you can guess.”

Three minutes later, Jason held Y/n in his arms and murmured, “thank you for doing this.” He took a breath and admitted, “I love you.”

Y/n stared up at him with wide, scared eyes. “Noice. Smort,” she swallowed roughly. Jason’s eyes flickered downward and his expression revealed a layer of quiet sadness. Y/n took a breath and gathered her courage. “I love you too,” she whispered. Jason stared at her, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes full of unbelievable love and warmth. After a beat, Y/n muttered, “also, I think this is definitely a dance class for widows.” The two glanced around to see an old lady waving suggestively at Jason. Jason groaned loudly and bent down to bury his face in Y/n’s neck, a blushing embarrassment on his face.

[victimeyez]

Private Lessons - Sarge (pt. 2)

Caius realizes he has made a dangerous mistake.

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New chapter every saturday!

See tags for content warnings

Special thanks to @suspicious-whumping-egg, @sunshiline-writes, and @killorbekillian for edits and inputs!

~

Sarge’s mouth was cold pressed against his, and then pulled away. A pause, and then he leaned in and did it again, curious. Whatever it was, it did not feel like a kiss, but Tommy wasn’t sure he was relieved. Sarge’s breath stank and he pressed his lips to Tommy’s face over and over, showering him in weak, awkward kisses. In spite of Sarge’s best imitation, it felt entirely devoid of affection. 

He just wants to know what it feels like. But this isn’t what he wants. 

Each kiss left the slightest touch of moisture, and he could feel it chill on his skin. Miserably, he almost wanted to lean into Sarge, just because his body was warm. This whole underground lair bullshit was cold. His clothes were still soaked, his hair starting to curl around his face as it began to dry. 

He closed his eyes. Pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth, pushing where his gums were still numb from the coke Caius fed him at the door. The warmth and weight in his lap disturbed him, but he tried to let in some miniscule sense of comfort from it. Peeling his shame and disgust away from the thread of warmth. Peel it away. Separate. 

He was already pretty sure it wasn’t working by the time Sarge bit down. 

He tested the skin and the muscle between his teeth and chewed, making Tommy seize with pain. It felt like the nerves under his skin there were being caressed with a cheesegrater. Then he stopped, moved up to a fresh part of his neck and bit down slowly. Sarge reached out with greedy hands and tugged Tommy’s uniform shirt down, then clumsily began to unbutton it, revealing more skin to his ministrations. He buried his blunt canines into his chest as deeply as he could and then released, moving onto the next patch of unblemished flesh. He worked his way across every exposed inch of Tommy’s skin, leaving wide, angry bite marks carved like a signature in his wake. The first few glittered slightly in the light as blood lazily began to pool in their wells. 

//

So far, this wasn’t what Caius had expected. Watching the disheveled man sit on his ward’s lap, curling in on Tommy to ravage his collarbones with his teeth, it didn’t match the picture he had imagined when he read the request form. This mock display of intimacy felt unbecoming of him, though the way Tommy keened and shivered underneath him in pain stirred something pleasing in Caius. 

He hadn’t expected the bunker, either. He hoped the military fetish gear came with ebay receipts. The amount of it, though…even the banality of some of the items… it itched in his brain, like there was something he was missing. He just couldn’t place it. 

Joey. It reminded him of Joey, when they were kids. His dad had kept all this junk from Vietnam, they wanted to look through it but he wouldn’t let them touch it. Joey’s dad, who just sat around in his boxers and drank. He’d just take out this old cigar box full of empty shells and count them on the kitchen table, FOX news blaring from the grainy screen of a heavy box TV. Finish off another bottle of malt liquor. Count them again, or maybe just feel them in his hands. Sometimes he would forget how many there were and would accuse Joey of taking them, that’s why he was chasing them with the belt. 

They had gone for the front door when they heard him yelling, and they ran out to the park across the road. His dad came out with his belt in his hands and his pants falling down, screaming at them to come back. They waited across the street, waiting for him to go back inside. That’s why they saw it, when he hesitated by the road. He and Joey saw that he waited just that one extra moment before he stepped out right in front of a truck, and that was it. The life insurance policy took years to get, the company insisted it was suicide, but Joey and his mom got it in the end. Every cent of it went to cleaning out all the shit his dad had hoarded in his house for 30 years. 

Tommy whimpered at a hard bite along his jaw. Caius watched. He thought about the sound it made when Joey’s dad went under the wheels. His mind wandered, taking in the old flags pinned to the walls. A large monochrome banner featuring a black silhouette, a tower in the distance. POW MIA - YOU ARE NOT FORGOTTEN. An American flag done up in dull green shades to mimic camo. Shadow boxes everywhere there wasn’t a shelf. One held a purple heart, next to another with an iron cross. Badges of honor, monogrammed caps, ribbons, pins, crucifixes, grenades, GI Joe figurines. Slowly, his eyes wander down the room to the wall nearest to him, where a stained american flag proudly bore the addition of the Mason’s golden symbol. 

There was a large square, printed on the wall beneath where the dust hadn’t built up. A smashed frame and shattered pieces of glass were all that remained of the display. 

It finally clicked, and when it clicked, he felt ludicrous for how long it had taken him to put it together.

This wasn’t just Sarge’s fetish - this bunker was a testament to a military family, one that stretched back many generations. Each one bearing more and more weight on Sarge’s shoulders.

A military family.

With this kind of wealth...

Without a shadow of a doubt, they had to be politically connected.

And here he was, generously providing a home delivery scandal.

A feeling Caius hadn’t felt for a while twinged deep in his gut.

Fuck.

He tried to wash his anxiety from his face, applying a fine mask that bore a thin, cool smile. 

//

Tommy moaned in pain as Sarge sank his teeth in, catching the corner of his chew toy’s mouth and spanning onto his cheek. When he released this time he finally leaned back to study the imprinted marks up Tommy’s throat. Angry red crescents mirrored each other in pairs along his collarbone where Sarge had pulled his shirt away. His face was vflushed and pink, eyes wide and wet. His lips were slightly swollen, jagged toothy marks now bisecting his smile at the corner of his lip. Its mirror image was bruising up on the apple of his cheek. 

Say it, He wants to hear it.

“Pleeeaaase, don’t hurt me,” Tommy cried.

Lips parted, pouted, eyes wide, soft moaning whimpers on every exhale. Pain nearly indistinguishable from pleasure. Don’t look like you’re enjoying it too much, it’s a turn off.

He just did it for him, without even thinking. 

The look Sarge gave him was so hungry, he wondered for a moment if he would be eaten alive. He might just lean in and pull away with a mouthful of him this time. 

But instead his face changed to something more…confused. He suddenly looked surprised and frowned, pushing a hand between his legs to feel himself through his pants for a moment. Tommy immediately wanted to retch, but Sarge mercifully stopped after only a second and began a clumsy dismount. 

What the fuck is this guy’s deal.

Tommy was tuning into him, picking up some faint frequency he’d tapped into that told him what these sick fucks wanted. Still, he couldn’t place him, couldn’t understand. He could sense some desire there, but what exactly it was he wanted, Tommy couldn’t tell. It was an unfamiliar bitterness on the back of his tongue. 

Something like iron, rusted to ash. 

He swallowed it down. 

Sarge was towards the back corner, out of his line of sight, struggling with something that made a metal clanking sound. Not exactly promising. Caius was watching Sarge - or at least, Tommy was pretty sure he was, the light reflected in his glasses again. Caius had this look on his face though, where his lips were pressed thin together but quirked at the edges. Struggling not to laugh. Tommy couldn’t quite find his sense of humor at the moment - it must have been washed away, down the stinking drain drilled into the cement floor beneath them. 

Sarge stepped just close enough to be a dark figure in the corner of Tommy’s eye, rummaging through another drawer. He returned to Tommy’s side, letting out a sigh of relief as he shrugged off the heavy wool coat that he had covered his wet uniform with. He had really started to sweat underneath, and a rich smell of body odor accompanied the removal. Tommy scrunched his nose up and turned his face away, forcing his breath out through his nose as if to dispel it. 

When Sarge began to unbuckle him, Tommy ground his teeth. He hated these parts, where he felt like he was complicit in it all if he didn’t fight back. Fighting back didn’t get anywhere though, especially not in a damn bunker. 

Caius flanked him as the last of the bindings came off, both men looming over Tommy in the chair, readied for some resistance. 

He felt small. Tiny in this big chair, four hands immediately catching his arms and dragging him off. The coke Caius had prepared him with had left him feeling wired, but he was also exhausted. It felt like his eyes were looking out at the world from deep holes bored into his skull.

I’m so tired. I’m so tired I can’t fight back. I can barely walk. I can’t possibly fight back.

Tommy repeated it in his head in as many different ways as he could think of, and it helped it feel true. His limbs felt so heavy, he focused on the feeling and disconnected himself. Of course he was too tired to fight. Of course there was nothing he could do. 

A sliver of guilt still poked its way through. If you don’t fight it’s all your fault. 

He imagined pulling that thought like a worm from his ear and grinding it under these stupid fucking boots. 

I’m helpless. I’m helpless. At least I can say I was helpless-

It wasn’t a comforting thought. Yet, it was a balm to his self pity, creating a terrible feeling to soothe another one in some odd way. Caius always said that Tommy struggled with acceptance - well, this felt something akin to it, somehow. 

No big deal. Just a rope. Taut on a… pulley? He looked up and saw the heavy wheel anchored into the metal ceiling by a silver hook. 

The hook looked bright and clean, even in the dim light. New, then, the juncture out of place connecting the dull green ceiling to the dull green pulley. The thick paint on the wheel casing had long since started to chip away, exposing a more aged steel beneath, dark and curdling with rust. He must have some kind of fetish for these fucking antiques - maybe Sarge and Darwin would be the best of friends, if they met. They could compare notes over tea and fuck on their old crusty furniture and die of tetanus. The idea of it brought a gruesome smile to his face. 

You’re fucking twisted, man. You’re losing it.

Caius stood in front of him, his hands on his shoulders holding him in place. Caius, ever so helpful. Heavy hands secured him while Sarge started twisting the rope around his wrists behind his back. Tommy failed to hide his sick grin before Caius saw it and raised an eyebrow. 

“Enjoying yourself?” Caius murmured, and his lips parted on a broad smile. His face suddenly felt far too close. Tommy wanted to step back away from him. No, he wanted to lean in closer, just to slam the thick of his skull into Caius’s neat white teeth. But his rage was impotent, rising as if only out of habit. He couldn’t summon the energy to back up the anger. He felt cold and scared and small, and it drained him.

His arms were bound together from his wrists to his elbows. His shoulders were already beginning to cramp from being pulled back. 

Sarge fussed with the bindings at his wrists for another moment. When the pulley made a clunk Tommy didn’t have to look. He could hear the whir of the rope being pulled through, and suddenly his wrists were being pulled upwards behind him. 

“Caius,” he gasped, leaning forwards in spite of himself. He pressed his face to Caius’s chest without a thought, and arms wrapped around him without hesitation. A hand carded fingers into his hair, stroking it softly. 

“You’re doing so well.”

Tommy shivered in terror as the rope slowly tightened, dragging his bound arms up behind his back. He bent forwards to try to relieve the pressure, but it just pushed him to bury his face in the soft fabric of his handler’s shirt until his nose pressed against his sternum. 

The rope climbed, dragging him with it, until it finally pulled him off of his feet. His stomach dropped as there was suddenly a violent pull from deep in his shoulders, and with a blinding pain, his body suddenly sagged a few inches further down. There was a breathtaking pain radiating from his back and his shoulders, but his arms felt swollen and numb. 

It all only took a moment. The tips of his boots had only just left the floor, and he shuddered as his shoulders gave out. 

In the space of three pounding heartbeats, he was eye to eye with Caius. His captor’s arms had slipped away to let him go, but delicate hands framed his face again just long enough to lean in for a kiss. It lingered for another beat, Caius’s lips parted, Tommy’s still open in a gasp as Caius sighed softly into his mouth. Then, just as quickly, he was gone. 

His head buzzed and began to pound, blood rushing to his face. He couldn’t process all the sensations. He was a good few feet from the floor when it stopped rising. 

His legs kicked out frantically, pointing his feet, desperate for even the tips of his toes to graze the floor. If he could make the slightest contact, he would do anything to relieve the ache even the smallest bit. Sarge laughed in a jarring, harsh outburst, watching as Tommy wiggled like a worm skewered on a hook. 

It hurt to struggle. It hurt not to struggle, too, but it felt too much like giving up. He sobbed and struggled until it all hurt too much, his muscles on fire from the strain.

The paralyzing effect of the pain finally started to kick in, and his impotent resistance slowed to a halt. Tommy’s breathing was shallow, fast, scared. A rabbit in a snare.

-

Sarge watched. He liked to watch. It was so different up close, personal. Even when that man— the handler, when he kissed his rope bunny, it sent a little thrill through him. 

The boy in the ropes was flushed pink and breathless, trembling from the strain. Instinctively, he was leaning as far forwards as he could. They always did in the drawings, too. He found the drawings and then he learned the terms and then he found the videos. They all leaned forwards. The closest someone could get to comfort in this position. 

He looked to Caius without moving his head. The other man seemed to appreciate the view of his captive. Sarge wondered how Caius would do if he was strung up, too. If that self satisfying grin would leave his face. Sometimes Sarge like to watch videos of guys like him being done in. They’d always start off angry, yelling, cursing, threatening. Every time, they’d whimper and cry like lambs when it came down to it. 

Tommy stopped struggling. He was breathing shallowly. His hands were turning purple. Sarge knew that if held long enough, the tissue in his fingers would begin to die. If left too long, his hands would have to be amputated-

The thought aroused him. He would love to watch him slowly die on the rope. But there was so much he still wanted to do, and so little time.

Tommy stopped struggling, and Sarge knew just how to fix that. 

Caius surveyed Tommy like an art student at a sculpture - delighted, curious, imagining his own process to form such an exquisite state of being with his own hands. Still, his better judgment burned the back of his neck. Coming here was a mistake.

-

Honestly, the pain was not the worst part.

Tommy had been dealt more than his fair share of agonies. He never got used to it, per se, but it didn’t pack the same punch as it did the first few times. 

Discomfort, however, rarely relented. 

His hands were going numb. Hands and feet were usually the first to go. His feet were fine, hanging uselessly underneath him, unable to touch the ground. The tension in his shoulders, the pull of muscle and ligaments, it all pushed on the ropes binding his arms together. He tried to lean forwards, relieve the ache somewhat, but his movements were limited at best. 

Breathing in and out gently tugged his shoulders, and every breath stroked his pain with loving hands. Being immobilized was nothing new to him nowadays, but it was shocking how utterly helpless he felt with only one tie. He hung from a strand, a twitching toy dangled between two cats. 

At a lazy pace,  he began to turn like a mobile, unable to control it as the rope twisted above him. It slowly rotated him towards the wall. Sarge stepped out of the corner of his peripheral vision. He refused to turn his head, stilling any movement he didn’t have to make to spare himself the pain. 

It made him uncomfortable to not be able to see them. He did not look. 

It doesn’t matter if you see it coming. Maybe it’s better if you don’t. It doesn’t matter if you can see what they’re going to do because - because - because there's nothing you can do to stop it.

It would not have mattered if Tommy could see Sarge when a hand gripped his ankle, long yellowed fingernails catching in the stiff laces of his boot. His feet were yanked violently back and his stomach jumped as he was pulled back. For just a second there was a slight ease, where he was able to bend forwards, only to feel his full weight slam down on his shoulders. He gasped, granted no respite before he was abruptly shoved, swinging like a pendulum above his audience. Another push and he spun around, slowing after a few rotations to face Sarge.

The look on Sarge’s face was disturbingly out of place. He was absolutely gleeful, breathing hard with excitement. Tommy wasn’t sure if he was still spinning, or if the rest of the world was turning beneath him. 

Sarge’s hands trembled around another bucket he had prepared. From his vantage point slightly above him, Tommy could see it was filled with water. Sarge grunted with effort as he raised the bucket above his head, his arms trembling. Tommy cringed away from it, but couldn’t move away any meaningful amount. As it loomed closer to him though, he was hit with a strong smell, musty. It reminded him of…a moldy basement. No, a farm, maybe the manure they put on the crops? It didn’t have the faint metallic scent the water had. His stomach turned as the sharp smell began to overwhelm his sinuses. Turning his face to the side offered little relief, and he wheezed as the burning musk reached his lungs. 

“TO THE MOOOOOOOOOON!” Sarge howled, and he tipped the bucket forwards, upending it as he slammed it down onto Tommy’s head. 

The momentum forced it up his nose. It was acid in his eyes. He choked and spluttered, huffing and spitting to get it out of his nose and his mouth. Everywhere it touched, it started to burn. Acidic drops oozed down his body and he immediately jolted into a fit, his struggles renewed with fresh urgency. There was already a fire stoked in his head, infecting his sinuses, his throat. Thick drops clumped in his eyelashes, and he blinked hard to push the stinging tears of pain out. He could hear his own desperate panting reflecting back to his ears from the plastic bucket that still hooded him. Rivulets of fire trickled down his body and soaked into his clothes. 

Underneath the searing burn, there was a maddening itch. Fuck, fuck, he could take all the pain in the goddamn world if he could just scratch, he’d do anything. Caius could whip him in the air like a goddamned pinata if it would scratch the itch for even a moment -   It felt like- like-

He’s looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. Twenty years old, back in his first trailer’s bathroom. His skin fucking hurts, it hurts so much but he can’t stop tearing into himself with his fingernails. Intense, painful prickles of irritation, sparking up everywhere at once, underneath the worst sunburn of his life. He struggles to get his shirt off without breaking from clawing at himself. 

His skin was already red and stiff, hot to the touch, even pulling the soft cloth over his shoulders made him hiss in pain. That’s why he’d tried the lidocaine spray, Kevin said it would take care of the soreness. The spray Tommy had bought had menthol in it, even better. 

Two things he learned later: Lidocaine is not supposed to be used on injured skin, and Tommy is allergic to menthol.

He wants to crawl out of his skin, scratching only makes it hurt more but he could NOT stop slapping and itching. It was like some kind of involuntary whack-a-mole response. He lurched over to the tub and ran the water ice cold, shucking his clothes to desperately try to rinse himself in the bathtub.

-

Tommy was cute, fighting it. He was already clearly fatigued with pain, but he began to thrash more desperately than ever as the chemical set upon his flesh. 

Caius admired the scene, sure, but he winced a little when the bucket doused Tommy. He thought it would be more water, but judging by the smell and the way Tommy reacted, it must have been something much worse. 

Sarge coughed and backed away, his hacking turning into a laugh as soon as he started to catch his breath. The smell burned in Caius’s nose, too, and he quickly backed away to escape it, covering his nose with his hands. 

“What is that?!” He demanded from Sarge. 

The anxiety in his gut boiled into a frenzy. I am not in control. I am not in control.

Sarged giggled and clapped his hands like Caius had told a sordid joke. 

“It’s the special sauce!”

“Tell me what it is.”

“Technically, it’s an herbicide.” He pronounced it with a hard C, like he’d only ever read the word. He had to raise his voice to answer Caius as Tommy screamed and struggled in his bonds.

Caius stalked closer, and saw Sarge’s eyes widen — good. 

“Either tell me exactly what this shit is, or you’ll be swimming in it next.”

Sarge looked a little startled, and oddly, a little hurt.

“Agent Orange. Like in Vietnam? That’s like — it’s kind of the theme. For the night.”

Agent fucking orange. Joey’s dad hobbling after them. Weak from the chemo, brandishing his cane, his pocked and rashy face twisted in anger. He found out later he was already dying, mutilated beyond repair from what he referred to as “the OJ”.

Tommy was soaked in it, it was poured into his eyes, and they were both standing so near. An unfamiliar alarm gripped Caius’s throat, an urgent fear rising inside. 

Caius shoved Sarge, catching him slightly to the side and off-guard. He stumbled back and fell, smashing his head against a metal locker before sliding the rest of the way to the floor. Caius followed him, wedging the tip of his shoe in between Sarge’s ribs as he kicked him for good measure. Sarge wheezed and tried to shuffle away on his hands, failing to block his ribs with one shaky hand extended. Caius leaned in, crouching to get in Sarge’s face. 

“You fucking pathetic fr-” Caius was interrupted by the crack of his skull, a blistering pain surprising him. Sarge kicked him in the stomach, and as he shoved him back, he brought the baton down on Caius’s head again. The second hit blinded him, and when his head hit the floor, he plummeted into unconsciousness. 

The sound of plastic hitting the floor startled Sarge, and he turned to see Tommy’s bucket rolling away. Tommy had managed to shake it off his head at the last second, and stared with horror at his handler’s limp body on the floor.

“Well,” Sarge said, standing and dusting his uniform off.

“Looks like we finally get a little alone time, you and I.”

~

taglist: please let me know if you would like to be added or removed.

@suspicious-whumping-egg @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@thembology @2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio

[bonny-kookoo]

Hey what about the time when I Like You JK realised that mc is more than just a hollow barbie? What bought him to this realisation? Also I'm sooo loving shy kook XD

When he walks in, he's greeted by.. pink.

A lot of pink.

Your curtains, the counters and and cupboards on the walls of your open kitchenette, the pillows on your little couch, the small heart-shaped carpet in front of it. There's stuffed animals everywhere as well, a folded up mattress and neatly folded blankets in a corner, and he assumes you must pack it up like this after sleeping every day. Your apartment is tiny, after all. There's not much space whatsoever- your living space basically compacted into one big room.

He's not really that surprised. Your apartment, at the first glance, looks exactly like you. Cute, girly, colorful, a little chaotic.

But as he looks closer, things become a bit more.. detailed.

You're off to fetch a towel for his rain-soaked hair, and he's careful not to have his clothes drip all over your floor as he walks around a tiny bit. There's numerous cooking books on a shelf near the kitchen, some in different languages even. Another bookshelf near your TV is absolutely packed with mangas, novels, and many books titled things like 'intelligence of household pets' and others with foreign names.

It's only now that he realizes, he's never actually asked what you did for a living. What your hobbies were. You knew that about him- but he himself knew basically nothing about you.

"There we go!" You chirp, playfully dropping the babypink towel onto his head, making him jump a moment. "I've got a suuper oversized simple shirt here, and a pair of Jimin's sweatpants he forgot ages ago. Just put your clothes in the dryer in the bathroom, I'll turn it on after you're done changing." You tell him, walking towards your couch to grab the TV remote, zapping through the channels.

He's quiet all the way until late, when you're both sitting on that couch, watching the evening news.

"What.. I never asked what your job is." Jungkook wonders, and you look at him at that, a bit surprised it seems.

"I'm an animal behavior consultant." You tell him, and his eyes widen. "I basically.. you know, people give me their cats and dogs and I tell them what the problem is. And how to fix it. If you can fix it." You shrug, reaching out to grab a snack.

"Did you have to study for that?" He wonders, interested now.

"Yep!" You chirp. "Got a masters, wanted to be a vet first but man, I would bawl my eyes out every time I had to put a pet down." You joke. "So I went for a different route, pissed off my parents by studying 'bullshit' as my dad called it, and got a certificate and stuff." You easily tell, not at all with a bragging tone or anything else.

You're pretty.. nonchalant about it.

"That's.. pretty impressive." He says.

"I know!" You laugh. "People think I do onlyfans or something most of the time, but I don't." You giggle to yourself. "Although I did sell feet-pics on discord when I was still studying.." You hum to yourself, making Jungkook himself chuckle. "Hey, a girl gotta pay her bills!" You say, hitting Jungkook next to you on his thigh. "Geez- are you made of only muscle? What the fuck is that?!" You dramatically exclaim, poking his thigh.

"I just.. work out." He mumbles a bit shy, feeling a bit insecure. Do you not like guys like him? Is he intimidating to you? Do you like softer guys more?

And why does he care about that?

"I just work out" You imitate him. "I work out too and my thighs don't feel like that! Though that might also be the three packs of ramyon I shoved into myself last night.." You mumble, poking at your own, way softer flesh.

"You're fine." He reassures softly. "I like your body." He offers- before he turns bright red, realizing what he just blurted out like an idiot.

"Oh damn, Jungkook!" You laugh, playfully shoving your body into his side. "Making moves, my guy!" You say, making him move his head away from you. "I like your body too- well, from what I can tell underneath your baggy clothes." You shrug, and he looks back at you with a mix of wonder and also.. insecurity.

"Yeah well.. I like your.. you know, everything else too." He says.

"Are you confessing to me right now?" You ask, and he shakes his head defensively. "No worries, I was only joking." You tell him, before leaning against him again, watching the TV.

Leaving him mildly disappointed in himself.

Because he kind of wishes he did just confess.

But maybe he just needs a bit more time.

[miraclesabound]

False Alarm

Summary: You nearly give Richie a heart attack when you call for him by his full name. Thankfully, it's nothing serious.

Pairings/Characters: Richie x F!Wife!Reader, Richie and Reader's son Hal

Notes/Warnings: Use of Richie's full name, mentions of childbirth, worries about being a bad dad, happy misunderstandings, Hal being very very cute. Set about five years after "Just What You Needed".

Tags: @grogusmum, @foreveraimingtowardsthesky, @pettyprocrastination, @cinewhore, @phoenixhalliwell, @nolita-fairytale

"Richard Lawrence, can you come in here please?"

Richie's ears prick up - you haven't used his full name in years. He can hear your words, but this far down the hall from Hal's room, he can't parse your tone. "Yeah, hang on, 'm comin'!" he calls. He pulls on a clean T-shirt and power walks to Hal's room, wondering if he's about to walk into some kind of diaper disaster area.

When he walks in, he sees that you've got Hal dressed and ready for the day, but you're covering your mouth, and Richie can't tell if you're holding back tears or laughter.

"Where's the fire?" he asks.

"You'll see." You turn back to Hal. "Buddy, can you tell Daddy what you said just now after I brushed your hair?"

Richie's blood runs cold - what could Hal possibly have said? Being all of two and a half, Hal is a sponge for information and a gifted little mimic - did he say something insulting or inappropriate?

Hal beams up at you, and in his best imitation of his father's cadence and tone, says "Tank-oo, sweetheart!"

Richie's chuckle is equal parts amusement and relief, especially when you laugh with him. "That's good to say thank you, buddy, but don't call your mom sweetheart, ok?" He gives his boy a hug. "That's more for girls your own age, and only if they're ok with it."

"Ok daddy!"

--

That night, after you're both home from work and Hal is in bed, Richie admits to you that you using his full name scared him a bit that morning.

You frown. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't realize. I just didn't want you missing out on something special."

"I know, baby - but imagine it from my perspective," Richie says. "Do you remember the last time you used my full name?"

You ponder for a moment, then shake your head. You know your memory isn't what it used to be since Hal was born.

Richie pulls you in close to whisper in your ear, just in case Hal's actually awake. "You were in labor, the epidural hadn't kicked in yet, and your exact words were, and I quote, "Richard Lawrence, you fucker, you did this to me!""

You snort. "Oh my God, you're right - I'm sorry again!"

"And with how smart our boy is, who knows what he might have picked up on?" Richie points out. "You know how much I restrict my cussing around him, but I'm sure some comments slip out sometimes."

"Then isn't it a relief that he's also picking up from you how to be a gentleman?" you ask.

"I guess so..." Richie still doesn't sound convinced.

"Besides," you say, "I don't only use your full name when I'm mad at you. I can think of three other times I said it in love."

"Oh?"

"The first night we met..." you lean in and kiss his neck. "The first night we made love..." The kiss travels to his cheek. "And the day we said our wedding vows." This kiss lands fully on his lips, and you finally feel him relax.