#she's blowing raspberries on his tummy

[dustymagpie]

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58

No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.

You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!

Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point. 

Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.

“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”

He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.

“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”

“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.

You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!

Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.

Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!” 

Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.

“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”

“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”

“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”

“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”

You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”

And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture. 

“She’s a natural, hun.”

“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”

“Damn right, she is.”

Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.

It’s all too much for him to take.

And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made. 

“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”

“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”

“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”

The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day. 

Time spent with his family.

Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.

“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return. 

“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”

“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[rafeschicana]

- rafe being obsessed with his girls 𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

“where's my girls i need some loving?” rafe’s voice comes from behind you. ari stands from her place on the floor forgetting all about her little people dolls. “dada” her tiny legs wobble as she takes careful steps towards her awaiting dad.

arms wide open crouching down “c'mon baby you got it” he encourages with a smile as ari falls to her bum. “it's okay ari girl almost there” you join in crouching down next to rafe aswell. ari’s eyes move from rafe to her sock-clad feet. rafe jumps up when her eyes well with tears. “Aw c'mon my baby” he coos rocking her as she rubs her eyes.

“ohh i missed you today my love” he blows raspberries onto her tummy. ari’s giggles filling up the whole room. rafe's eyes move onto you. “mmm dont get me started on you” he whispers pulling you in with his other arm. peppering kisses down your neck “called the overnight nanny got some plans for us mama”

[angels-fantasy]

more papa Katsuki pls! I need him and his babies, like newborn babies. Just him feeding off his babies laughter, from raspberries or tickling and just him being gentle with him, tell me he wouldn’t spoil his daughter

Dad!Bakugou With His Newborn

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Details/Warnings: cw: A BABY, papa katsuki and mom reader 😪 families are so cute i love domestic fluff

Word Count: 306

fank yewww for the request this is so cyute >.< also im sorry for the late response to this 😰 i hope you like it!!

his daughter's laughter was probably the best sound he's ever heard. it was a sign that she was happy, so in return he was also happy.

sometimes he'd blow raspberries on her tummy just hear her giggle some more. her little laugh never got old to him.

currently, he was sitting on the floor of the nursery with your daughter who was lying on her back, looking up at him with a scowl that was eerily similar to his.

you were leaning against the doorframe, smiling at their interaction. "what'd you do to make her mean mug you like that, huh katsuki?"

he pinched her nose lightly, making her squeal. "nothin'. she's just got a mug like me already." he said and swooped her up into his arms, cradling her as he did so.

you walked over to them and sat down next to katsuki to look at your baby girl. she was looking back and forth between the two of you from her place in katsuki's arms, not sure who to focus on.

as he held her with one arm, he brought a hand up to her little face and held out a finger for her to hold onto. she cooed as she grabbed it, gripping his finger tightly with her super baby strength.

as she continued to babble away and play with katsuki's fingers, he continued to admire her little features that were a mix of yours and his.

you giggled at their interaction, "i can't believe you said you wouldn't spoil her. look at you now," you teased, "she's got you wrapped around her little finger and she's barely about to be three months old."

he scoffed. "shaddup. i didn't say that." he lied.

you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder, allowing him to get away with his lie this one time.

i'm sorry this was so short T_T ngl ive been in a funk lol i can't think of anything to write!! but i'm hoping it'll come back to me soon <3

taglist for bakugou fics: @doumadono @shonen-brainrot @b134ch-m4h-ey3z

[azzo0]

Can't stop thinking of coming home to Katsuki and your guys' daughters.

You had a pretty shitty day at work. First, your manager had the nerve to call you in for work when it was a day off for you and on top of that, your colleagues seemed to be extra annoying today.

You were in a really bad mood by the end of the day, but all that dissipated when you opened the door to your home.

There he was, your husband Katsuki, surrounded by your guys' four daughters. The girls sat around the little pink plastic table with equally pink and small chairs too little for him to fit in. He sat on the floor, drinking water that was supposed to be pretend tea. The cup was almost funny in his giant hands. His blond spikes were pushed back with several cutesy pins and hair ties accompanied by a headband that had an obnoxiously big red bow.

"How is the tea, pops?" your eldest asks.

"Great," he replies. The second pours more water into his cup from a toy teapot, and he mumbles something about how he's had enough tea for the day.

"Daddy! You're supposed to stick your pinky out! Or we'll have to kick you out of the tea party!" The second youngest exclaims, and Bakugo begrudgingly sticks his pinky out.

The youngest, only eleven months old, tries to reach for his face to put a sticker on his cheek. He holds her up, and she smacks a pretty little flower onto his face, followed by little squeals and claps.

"Ya like stickin' stickers onto my face? Hm, squirt?" She nods excitedly, holding her hands up. He lifts her up and blows raspberries onto her tummy, making her burst out laughing.

"My turn!"

"No, mine!"

"Pops, you must finish your tea!" As the girls are hoarding him, he notices you leaning by the doorframe, watching with a warm smile.

He grins, "Hey."

"It's Mama!"

You kneel down to hug the three clinging to your legs and watch the youngest try to take small steps towards you, almost falling over a few times. Katsuki gives her some support from the back until she's in your arms. You pick her up, kiss her peachy cheek and smile at Bakugo.

He puts a hand on your back and presses a sweet little kiss onto your lips, which results in a series of "ewwws" and "yucks".

"Gross!" The eldest gags.

"Oi, she's my wife!" Bakugo exclaims.

"No, she's my Mama!" The second youngest says, pulling you towards the pink table, "Mama's going to have tea with us!"

"Yeah," you smile. "Let's all have tea together."

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine giving Shanks baby fever

At a tavern

Child: I wanna join your crew!

Shanks: pfft, no way

Child: I'm a real good fighter, I won't get in the way, I promise!

Shanks: hmmm, [taps his chin and looks like he's thinking about it]

Child: [thinks he's going to get a chance]

Shanks: hmm...Hmmm?... No

Child: aw come on

Child's mother: [barges into the tavern holding her infant] Julius Antony D. Frost! What do you think you are doing here? You haven't finished your chores, the goats got hungry and two of them broke into the house!

Child: but mom!

Child's mother: here hold this [foists her infant into your arms and drags her son off by his ear]

You: ??? [Looks to the local barkeep for help]

Barkeep: she'll be back when she realizes, just look after that little girl until then.

You: [pulls the infant closer to you and glowers]

Barkeep: I know it's a little unorthodox, but that lady has six kids, you're holding her only daughter, and her husband is a fisherman. This means he's gone most of the time, and her five eldest boys keep her busy, so please don't judge her, we help her out as much as she'll allow.

You: fine, [goes over to your table with Shanks]

Shanks: [cocks his head and gets a good look at the baby]

Baby: [looks at Benn and starts to cry]

Shanks: [pushes Benn away] You're scaring the baby.

Benn: ay! Ay! Alright, alright, I'll move.

You: [bounces the infant, pats it on the back, and starts to sing to try]

Baby: [settles down, and relaxes against your shoulder]

Shanks: wow, I didn't know you were so good with kids.

You: I didn't either... [Turns to the barkeep] Can I get this table wiped down so I can set the baby down?

Barkeep: [ obliges]

You: [sits the baby's weight down on the table, but keeps your arm around her so she's still leaning against you] Are you the cutest baby in the world?

Baby: ◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜

You: [gasps] Yes you are, you are the cutest baby in the whole world. [Gently tickles her tummy]

Baby: [giggles]

The crew: [find the two of you painfully adorable]

Baby: [ turns to Shanks and makes grabby hands at him]

Shanks: [ leans in closer]

Baby: [grabs a handful of his hair]

Shanks: she's got a good grip on her, how old is she? A year?

Barkeep: yeah, fourteen months, I think.

You: oh I could just eat you up, yes I could! In fact, I think I will. [Blows raspberries on her tummy]

Baby: [erupts into laughter]

You: [ pulls the baby back to your chest, leans back against Shanks, and smiles up at him] She still has that baby smell.

Shanks: (⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠)

Child's mother: [bursts through the establishment's doors] Holly!

Baby: [whips around to look at her mother]

Child's mother: oh thank God, thank you for looking after her, I'm so sorry.

You: it's okay, she's easy to deal with, plus from the looks of it you had your hands full. [ Passes her her child]

Child's mother: she is, isn't she? Thank you have a nice day. [Leaves with her child]

Later that night

Benn: you've been eyeing them all night, what's up.

Shanks: [shifts his gaze from you to Benn] So I'm not as subtle as I thought I was... I dunno. Ever since seeing them with the baby, what was her name? Holly?... I guess I can't get it out of my head.

Benn: oh you've got baby fever, don't cha?

Shanks: [blushes] maybe

Benn: I thought you didn't want kids on this boat anymore?

Shanks: I don't, that hasn't changed. [Gets up and heads over to you] What do you say we call it a night?

You: hmm, alright, I'm getting tired anyway. [Lets Shanks lead you to the Captain's quarters]

Shanks: [is handsy with you the whole way]

You: [doesn't mind] You seem rather frisky tonight, or at least friskier than usual.

Shanks: Sorry, but seeing how good you are with kids really ignited something within me. [Smooches up and down your neck]

You: I thought you didn't want kids?

Shanks: For Fuck's sake, I don't, not yet, but that doesn't mean I don't want to practice. [Dumps you on the bed and starts to take off his pants.]

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[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Four

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Descriptions of past domestic violence, past abuse, past sexual assault, SANE exam. Death scene in relation to reader's job. Stalking. Feelings of fear and anxiety. Trauma. PTSD. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, nurse!reader. Comfort. Soft dads. Johnny is a shameless flirt.

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday sweet Penny-“ 

Their baby shrieks at the crest in the song, smile shoving her plump cheeks upwards, little fists banging on her highchair tray. She has no idea what’s going on, Johnny imagines, but he knows she’s excited that everyone is singing to her, looking at her, celebrating her. “happy birthday to you!” She swings a hand forward, plunging into the buttercream icing of the cupcake, fingers digging in as much as she can. Johnny can't help but give her the biggest kiss he can manage while trying to dodge the flying food, and Simon laughs over his shoulder. 

“Atta girl.” Simon encourages, trying to peel the wrapper so she can get more in her mouth, icing and cake all over his fingers now too, and Johnny wanders for a second, imagining something certainly not appropriate for their daughter’s first birthday. 

“Can’t believe your kid is a year old.” Kyle says from behind him, two beers in his hand. “Feels like yesterday you were even tellin’ us she existed.” 

“Time is movin’ too fast.” Johnny agrees, taking a long sip as Simon pulls Pen from the highchair, white and blue icing all over her face, arms, and hands. Kyle is right, it is hard to believe it’s been a year, hard to believe that their baby is already one, growing up right before their eyes, taking her first steps, saying her first words. He knows it won’t be long until she’s really talking, running, riding a bike, going to school… thoughts of the future forming a lump in the back of his throat that sticks like taffy. 

Simon steps into his orbit with Penny in his arms, keeping her turned outwards away from his body, half tilted to avoid the sticky smear of icing that’s painted all over her. 

“What is it?” he murmurs, leaning in to brush his lips against Johnny’s cheek, warm breath fanning over his skin. 

“Nothin’ ah-“ Penny babbles, head tipped back, gazing at him with wide, pretty eyes, and Johnny rubs a knuckle across her messy cheek. “she’s gettin’ so big. Feel like ‘m missing it, sometimes. Like I should be here.” Simon sighs. 

“Johnny-“ 

“I know, I know.” They made this decision, together. They chose what was best for their family, even though they both knew the distance, the time apart, would sting.  

“The option is always there if you want to swap. Though I think we both know you’d lose your head behind a desk.” He nods, but the longing lingers, and Simon reads him right through to his heart, like always. “After this next op, let’s sit down and talk about it. Maybe we can make some adjustments for next year.” 

“Ah love ye.” 

“I love you too.” He shifts Pen into his side, inclining his head towards her grubby hands. “Can you wash her up?” She reaches for him, trying to latch around his neck, and he rubs her back, cooing into her hair. 

“Whit happened to my precious bairn, eh? Where’d she go?” Pen giggles, fingers finding his nose, long strands of his hair with a tug, and he playfully lifts her, mouth against her tummy, blowing loud raspberries over her shirt that has her absolutely screaming with glee. 

“Da. Dadadada-“ she babbles at him. 

“C’mon wee lamb, let’s go get ye into some clean clothes.” 

There’s an envelope shoved under your front door.

The shitty carpet in the hallway is too high, threads jagged, so it sits a little crumpled, half wedged beneath the bottom and the floor.

It’s manilla. Letter sized. Stepping over it to get inside, you immediately notice the lack of postage. Or addressing. Or anything at all, that would signify that it had been delivered by proper authorities.

It’s from him. 

You know it is, even though you try to find any other rational reasoning, anything that could explain the mystery behind the envelope and how it got here.

You know. You know it’s probably a letter. Handwritten. Signed in perfect penmanship. You know it’s probably something foul, sick words twisted into terrifying sentences.

You kick it inside and let it sit there for a few minutes. You get changed, get into comfortable clothes, start your kettle. You wrap your sweater tight around your body and lean against your countertop, staring at the offensive tan-beige paper that lays in the middle of the floor.

It’s from him. 

He knows where you are. 

“That’s impossible.” You answer yourself aloud, fingers curled so tight into your palms that they make little crescent moon shapes in your skin.

Your illusion, delusion, of safety, anonymity, is easily washed away by the appearance of the envelope, and whatever lurks inside it.

It’s too soon. 

You didn’t make it.

It’s not a letter inside the envelope at all.

It’s a photo.

A photo of you, taken in harsh hospital lighting, dated over two years ago. It’s taken from the shoulders up, skin bare and exposed, fresh impact bruising around your neck, eye starting to swell, lip crusted with blood.

You remember this photo. You remember the awful experience of the SANE exam, the drive to the hospital that took over two hours because you had to go to another state, just in case.

You hadn’t changed. Hadn’t showered. Your white eyelet blouse, one of your favorites, was splattered red, bright ruby dried a dark wine by the time you pulled into the little county hospital.

You remember the way it felt, to have your clothes put in a bag. To be handled by gloved fingers, with care and attention. The same way you had done for others before that day, and since.

“What’s your name?” your nurse had asked you, so cautiously, so kind. “It’s okay. You’re safe here.” She tried to promise, but you knew the truth. There was nowhere you could run, not a single place you could hide, where a shadow wouldn’t find you.

The girl, the woman, in the photo is the same person that looks back at you in the mirror every day, except now she’s buried beneath layers and layers of function, schedule, consistency. She’s silenced by distraction. By work.

By fear.

You flip it over with trembling hands, looking for the note or signature you know will be there. Like a greedy, starved pig; he cannot help himself. 

Found you. 

Bile rockets up your esophagus and into your mouth. How long will he toy with you this time?

“Hey, you okay?” Nia asks, frowning at you from her locker.

“Yeah, just slept like shit.” You roll your shoulders, emphasizing the half-truth. You really did sleep poorly, fragments of nightmares keeping you suspended in twilight sleep, clips of memories morphed into the snapping. bloodied jaw of a monster who reared their head every time your REM cycle started, and it shows. In your face, your posture, your skin. You look awful, the only thing really holding you together the resolve you have to push through, to get it together, to leave the envelope and its contents behind in your mind. You’re safer inside these walls above anywhere else, that you know is true. Your safety. Your sanctuary. Nothing can hurt you here. “You know how it is.” You add, and she chuckles.

“Tell me about it. Thought I was going to love overnights, but the sleep schedule is brutal.”

“You get used to it.” You assure her, the two of you making your way down the hall to the pit, and she shrugs.

“If you say so.”

You stand outside of two sixty-eight for too long. People pass you in the hallway, eyes curious, and you pretend to scroll through the tablet, decidedly trying to distract yourself from the dread that’s gathered like a sailor’s knot in the pit of your stomach.

You’re a professional. This behavior is definitely unprofessional. Get yourself together. 

You try, filling your lungs with a deep breath, but you can’t shake the shame, the mortification that is curdling in your stomach at the idea of facing Simon and Johnny after the code black situation last week.

“Go sit with Johnny.”

“Ye’re shaking, pretty girl.”

Will they be angry that you were so rattled? Could they tell? 

Your watch alarm beeps, and you uncurl your spine.

Buck up. 

You’re both anxious, and relieved, that Johnny is asleep when you finally step inside. Simon sits in his usual spot, paperback book’s spine split in the palm of his hand, and at first… he doesn’t even look up. Not until you clear your throat, and he startles in the chair, eyes snapping up to find yours. “Hi.” He frowns.

“What day is it?”

“Uh, it’s Wednesday?”

“I thought you start your week on Thursdays.” That makes your eyebrows raise, uncontained surprise filtering through you. He knows your schedule? Butterflies thrash in your stomach at the notion, something hot flooding your veins as you blink at him.

“I’m on OT.” You drift towards the other side of the bed, eyeing Johnny’s monitor before lifting the blanket to peek at his elevated leg. “How is he?”

“Uncomfortable. The burn debridement has been… difficult.”  You chew on the inside of your cheek. They better not be letting Simon even stand outside and watch that through the window, you think. You’ll have to follow up with whoever is on days.

“Healing burns can be a long and painful process.” You tell him, pulling back the blanket a little further. “I’ll be quick, try to let him get enough sleep as possible.”

“He’ll be sad he missed you.” Simon answers, still watching your every movement, eyes dark and focused above the black cloth mask. The intensity in them catches you off guard when you meet his gaze, hair on the back of your neck standing up straight, and you swallow.

“Well, I’ll still be here in the morning when he wakes so…” you trail off awkwardly, choosing to direct your attention to the scaffolding that’s supporting his femur and hip, checking his sutures for any redness or swelling.

“Do you work a lot of overtime?” Simon asks at the same as he leans forward to brush a stray lock of hair from Johnny’s forehead. The touch is so tender, so gentle, it makes your heart bleed inside your chest, blood warming beneath your skin, captivating your attention until he’s tearing his eyes away from Johnny, and latching onto yours with an expectant expression.

“Oh. Um. Sometimes?”

“Seems like a lot.” He comments, words lazily pulled from his lips, his tone soft, nearly a whisper. “Must make it difficult to spend time with your family, or partner.”

“Oh, I don’t have one of… those.” You immediately refute, pulling up short before the word those, embarrassment making your nose burn. Why are you telling him this? Why are you announcing to a stranger that you’re practically a recluse loner? 

Simon’s head tilts, and he looks like he’s about to say something but your tablet chimes, insistent and loud, signaling a vitals issue in another room.

“E-excuse me.” You stumble, and he nods, turning his attention back towards Johnny.

One… two… three… four…One… two… three… four… One… two-

The count in your head is second nature at this point, turning over and over after four as your arms, back and core start to scream, your breaths coming in shorter. Where the fuck is he? 

The count continues to roll on, lactic acid building up through your muscles, and you take another deep breath, as much as you can manage. The pain is familiar, it’s necessary, it’s a part of your job, but today, it’s burrowing itself beneath your skull, tugging and tearing at the memories that you’ve buried deep.

Pain. Gnarled and knotted strands of associations pull free from the confines of compartmentalization, stretching out across the front of your mind.

One… two… three… four…

You think about the photo. About being on your back, in a bed like this, lost inside the maze of a panic attack while the NP took photos between your legs. While they swabbed for DNA inside of you, under your fingernails, in your mouth. It’s funny how certain things can stick with you, the sound of the plastic bag crinkling as your bloodied clothes were shoved inside, how you can’t sleep on your back now, the way you counted the ceiling tiles over and over that day. One… two… three… four…

“How long has it been?” Nia asks from the other side of the bed, hand steadily squeezing the bag at the correct rate, still watching the monitor like a hawk.

“At least ten minutes.” You glance at the shade pulled over the window, grateful you remembered when you came running in here, the patient’s family standing just outside the door, holding their breath, hoping you’re in here bringing their beloved granny back, when in reality, you’re just traumatizing her body. You’ve already broken one of her ribs, and you’re worried if you keep going, her sternum will fracture too. It’s not fair. “Where the fuck is he?” you hiss between breaths, anger starting to heat your skin, irritation clear in your tone. This isn’t even your patient. Lazy, slacker, pompous ass, where the fu-

“How long has it been?” The nervous voice just inside the door calls, and your head snaps up.

Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me. 

“Eleven minutes and twenty-two seconds. Where is Marshall?”

“He- he sent me.” You shake your head. Nia sighs.

“Have you pronounced before?”

“Um. No.”

“And where is Marshall?” You ask again, just to clarify, and the resident swallows.

“I uh, don’t know.” Normally, a resident’s first pronouncement would be supervised by their attending. But since this one’s attending is Marshall, a grade A prick that you can’t stand, it looks like he’ll be on his own.

“Great. Okay.” You take a huge breath, trying to flex your wrists without losing your position. “It’s been twelve minutes now, and no response. Do you want to check?” He nods, and you chew on the inside of your cheek when he doesn’t verbally respond. “I need you to say it out loud.”

“You can stop compressions.” You immediately wilt, stepping away from the side of the bed, the motion of Nia’s hand also slowing until it stops, and she slumps. Marshall’s resident physically checks for a pulse, listens for breath sounds and then finally, does a sternum rub, to no avail.

“Sh-should I…” they trail off, looking back down at the elderly woman in the bed. The deceased woman, whose family is waiting, desperately. You nod.

“Yes.” You tell the resident gently. You can tell he’s unsure, nervous even, and for a moment, you’re transported back to your first code, when you were a baby nurse, a terrified, bumbling mess that needed help, just like he does. And since Marshall is a piece of shit… “No pulse?” You ask, and they nod. “No breath sounds? No sound of a heartbeat?”

“None.” They answer you confidently, and you manage an encouraging smile.

“No response to painful stimuli, no reaction to the sternum rub?”

“Right. No.”

“Okay. So normally, you could also use a thumbnail to press into their nailbed, if you feel like you need it, if you’re not comfortable with the sternum rub, but-“

“No, no. I’m. Yeah. Okay.” They too, take a deep breath, and check their watch. “Time of d-death… twenty one forty five.”

“Great job.” You tell him, pulling the blanket back up around her shoulders. “Do you feel comfortable speaking with the family?” He blanches, and Nia’s work phone dings, signaling another patient’s needs. You sigh for the eightieth time tonight. “Okay. Come on, we’ll do it together.”

The supply closet welcomes you with open arms. It hides you in the low light of it’s forgotten space, and when you fall into the chair, your face drops into your palms, pressing so hard into them that you start to see stars. The curtain falls. The walls of your sanctuary start to feel frail. 

Found you, found you.

He found you. 

Get it together. Get yourself together. 

“Hey, there she is. Missed ye.” Johnny coos, eyes half shut, sleepy and sweet.

“Johnny.” Simon rumbles his name like a warning, one your patient doesn’t seem to heed, still blinking slowly at you with a sly look on his face.

“Had a dream about ye, pretty girl. Dreamt ye were at ho-“

“Alright.” Simon cuts him off, swiftly. Patients often have vivid, weird dreams when they’re all dosed up on medication, and it’s not the first time someone has slurred out some weird vision they’ve had of you in their sleep.

“Good morning to you too.” You quip, glancing at the catheter bag before putting your hands on your hips. “How are you feeling?”

“’m alright. Stomach hurts.” You frown.

“Can you tell me where the pain is?” He motions to his upper right, the area where his newly repaired liver is sitting, and you nod, pulling out your phone immediately to update his doctor. Could be nothing. Could be something. Not for you to determine, but you won’t let it go unnoticed, and you’ll make sure it’s top of mind during shift report. “Can I check your side?” You motion to where his burn is lightly wrapped, and he nods with a sheepish smile.

“Aye, sure can. Ye can take my clothes off anytime.” You roll your eyes, unbuttoning his gown at the shoulder, peeling the gauze away very slowly. The wound looks better than you were expecting, if you’re being honest, and it relieves some of the anxiety that curled up in the pit of your stomach after his admission of upper right quadrant pain. “Yer hands are warm, bun. Feels nice.” Bun? You opt to ignore it. Probably still a little floaty.

“Good, that’s… good. Better than them being icicles.” Your hand brushes across the center of his abdomen when you pull the rest of the dressing away, and he tenses, ab muscles becoming clearly defined, enough that you stall out for a second before turning away to grab fresh gauze for his wound care, hands just a little unsteady. “Oh, fuck.” You mutter when the pack slips, sliding halfway under the little table that’s along the wall, and you sigh, whirling away from both of them and bending at the waist to tiptoe your fingers across the floor until you feel the corner of crinkly plastic. “Gotcha!” When you straighten, turning back towards the bed, Johnny and Simon are staring at you, and there’s a glee filled smile on Johnny’s face, it’s presence both mischievous and beguiling, fingers of his good hand slowly rubbing circles into the inside of Simon’s forearm. “What?”

“Nothing. Ignore him.” Simon deadpans, and then shoots his partner a very serious look, one that nearly has you straightening like you’re in trouble.

“Ach.” Johnny huffs, stroking a gentle touch upwards across Simon’s jaw as you start to reapply his dressing, taking your time to ensure everything looks good and he’s comfortable. You smooth over it once you’re satisfied, checking for any precarious pieces of tape. “Ye take such good care o’ me.” Johnny murmurs, accent soft and scratchy. It’s decadent the way his voice sounds sometimes, enough to make your throat dry and the room feel too hot. “Got lucky, didnae we, Si?”

“Well, it’s m-my job.” You answer, trying not to look down at where his chest and stomach are still exposed, or get caught in the cerulean blue waves of his eyes. They’re such a stark contrast to the intense, velvety hue of Simon’s, the pointed focus of his gaze that’s able to stun you, throw you off kilter the same time Johnny’s makes you feel overheated, and lightheaded. Both of them together could drown you. Overwhelm you.

Balanced. A yin and a yang. 

Get it together. This is your patient and his partner, for gods sake. What is wrong with you? 

Something warms brushes along the skin of your knuckles, a fleeting touch, and when you look down, you see Johnny’s hand, two fingers barely stroking yours, the lightest touch catching your breath in your chest like time is slowing to a crawl, and you’re freezing along with it.

Everything goes quiet in your head.

Simon’s watching you, methodically studying you like he’s trying to decipher every twitch in your expression as Johnny’s fingertips move over your knuckles to the back of your hand, thumb slipping into your palm, blazing heat sparking beneath it.

What… what is happening? 

A phone vibrates. The noise snaps you free from your near statuesque state, and they both divert their attention to its screen. 

“They’re here.” Simon tells him, glancing at you before looking back to his partner. “Be good.” He warns, and Johnny rolls his eyes in response, but he looks almost… desperate now, eyes wide and anxious. 

“Hurry?” he asks, hopefully, Simon leaning down to press mask covered lips to his forehead, his eyes shuttering closed, deep breath passing between their two bodies.

“I’ll be right back.”

“I’m really concerned about the pain in his upper right quadrant. I already sent a text, but if his doctor isn’t on this floor in the next hour, page him again.” The dayshifter nods, tapping a note into her phone. “And Marshall’s resident is practically unsupervised, so keep an eye out.”

“Okay, sounds good.” You mention a few other things, details you noticed throughout your day, and she thanks you for the extra eye, sending you off with a parting wave into the cold, crisp morning, your mind already skipping over your commute to when you’ll be able to sink into your bed one last time.

You’re busy compiling a list as you wait for the elevator. Necessities, things you’ll need indefinitely as you bounce back and forth between a rotation of hotels and on-call rooms, all the usual stuff, clothes, toiletries, and all the important things that can’t be left behind, your birth certificate, passport, other things that could make or break you if lost.

Deep breath. You can do this. It’s not the first time. You’ve done it before, and you can do it again. 

The elevator dings. You take a step forward, not paying attention, and then pull up short when you see who’s getting out.

It’s Simon stepping towards you, with a baby girl in his arms. She’s situated on his hip, nestled into his side and for a second, you falter because… you recognize her. Or at least you think you do... she looks just like the little girl you saw last week.

“Um. Hi.” You blurt, failing to notice at first that he’s not alone, the man from the first night you met them, the one with the mustache standing behind the width of Simon’s body, his arm curled around the woman you saw last week. They step into view, and you give them all a polite smile, one you really hope doesn’t betray your confusion. 

“Hi,” he says your name next, says it so softly it feels tender, and then takes another step closer. “This is Penelope. Our daughter.” Oh. Oh.

They have a baby. A girl. They have a little girl. You don’t know why, but something inside you stumbles, melting into a frazzled, awkward mess, heart thumping in your chest. They have a baby, and Johnny almost died. They have a kid and he’s been trapped in this hospital, miserable in pain, missing his kid. “Pen, this is your Da’s favorite nurse.”

“Bunny.” The baby, Penelope, says, little finger stretching out towards your badge, which is facing outwards with the giant sparkly sticker. Simon chuckles, genuinely, masked lips pressing to her cheek, and you see a glimpse of a father, a protector, a provider. It makes you feel dizzy.

“We’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks, and you nod like a robot, unable to really form a word with your tongue. “Alright baby girl. Let’s go see your Da, yeah?”

[luveline]

how’re eddie and roan doing??🫶🏻

(step)mom!reader, 2k

Sometimes you know you’re not good enough for Eddie and his daughter.

It’s a pinprick pain in the same place. The tiniest fear turned to heat.

“I’m gonna get you!” he warns.

“No, you’re not!” Roan stands at the other side of the room. With the door at her father’s back, she has no proof to substantiate her claim, but she makes it anyway. “You’re slow!”

You sit on the end of the bed with one leg hanging off, a socked foot brushing the carpet. Your legs are aching and the bottom of your spine feels bruised, so you aren’t joining in tonight. You watch them glare and giggle at one another.

Your head hurts between your eyes.

Eddie makes a ‘scary’ face and runs across the room to grab her. She squeals in terrified delight and races for the bed, climbing up behind you and over it, swapping places with him easily, or so she thinks. She’s slower than he is, and can’t escape his grabbing hands as he leaps for her on your bed, flattening your stepdaughter into a pancake.

“No, no,” she laughs beneath him.

Eddie braces his arms either side of her. “I told you’d I’d get you,” he says in a menacing voice, like a character from a movie, he can do a hundred different impressions. “You’ve stolen your last Twinkie, child. Be prepared for retribution.”

“I hate retribution!” she shouts.

Eddie laughs like a kid. “You’ll have to learn to love it.”

He grabs the end of her shirt, tugs it up, and drops his face into her stomach to grow the world's most aggressive raspberry. Roan screams the house down, laughing and shrieking as the vibrations tickle her skin. Eddie takes another big breath, lets it out against her bellybutton, even as Roan’s knees come up and jab him in the arm. “Dad, oh my gosh, stop!”

He stops. “You surrender?”

“No.” A third huge raspberry gets pressed into her tummy.

“Give up,” he sing-songs, “you know you can’t defeat me, little Munson.”

“Y/N, please help me,” Roan says, half crawling under Eddie’s weight to grab your arm. “Please save me.”

Your smile is two shades off, but she doesn’t notice, and you wouldn’t want her to. “I can’t, princess, only a knight can save you now.”

Eddie blows a raspberry on her tummy, then her neck. She hates that even more than the tummy ones and flings herself out of his arms with breathless laughter, the urgency of knowing you’re going to be killed by such horrible, painful, excruciating affection. “You,” she says, taking deep breaths as she slinks down onto the floor, “are the worse dad. Ever.” She laughs like taffy. “I’m listening to my body and it says I need some soda.”

“You can have a capri sun,” Eddie says firmly.

She rushes away, runs down the stairs, and it’s all Eddie can do to constrain his usual warning, you can tell. “She’s gonna fall down them,” he says, batting the hair out of his eyes, “and then what will I do?”

You smile weakly. “I don’t know, teddy. Guess we’d have to roll her around in a wheelbarrow for a bit.”

He clambers onto his knees beside you. A spiral curl falls into his eyes. Everybody’s pretty when they smile but Eddie’s a heartbreak when he’s upset, when the corner of his mouth twitches wanting to pull down and his eyes lose their mirth. “Hey, what’s wrong?” With a little more pep, “Are you tired? Hungry?”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, so I won’t accept it.” His hand hesitates by your leg. “What’s not okay?”

You shake your head, not wanting to look at him anymore. He’s prettier than you are, with a better heart. He’s a great father and you’re a shitty mom. You have less practice than he has, sure, but you can’t do anything right for Roan lately, you mess up her lunch and forget to buy her yoghurts when you’re coming home even though Eddie called you twice to make sure you got them. He didn’t even get mad. If he asks you one more time what’s wrong, you’re gonna burst into tears.

He doesn’t ask.

Eddie wraps an arm heavily over the back of your shoulders and neck. The other vys for your hand in your lap, his knuckles brushing against your thigh. “You’re not feeling up to it, is that what it is? Maybe you’re tired,” he suggests, with all his usual tenderness. You’re struck with a memory of him when you’d first started dating, how awkward he could be and how he’d shoved it aside when you had one of your worst days at work. He’d surprised you outside, Roan waiting in his backseat, promising to take you home and make you a home cooked meal. You’d eaten it under his arm like this.

There were moments before you’d been his girlfriend where you worried he wasn’t gonna let you have him. That he wasn’t gonna want you, that you’d move on from each other and have to pretend it never happened. But he’s whispering in your ear, hand latched onto your arm and rubbing circles into the tired muscle there without thought. “You can tell me anything,” he’s saying, “you know you can, just tell me what’s bothering you, don’t like it when you’re quiet…”

“Just had a bad day,” you say, tight and squeezed, so clearly evident that you’re gonna cry.

“At work?”

“All day.”

“Why? What’s bad?” he asks.

Nothing, you think, nothing’s bad, nothing is different than usual, but you feel awful. Like your hearts trying to invert itself in your chest, an upset with notes of panic.

“You know what I think it is?” he asks when you don’t answer, his demeanour dipping further and further into tenderness. “I think you didn’t eat enough at dinner, and you didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now you could use a shower and a hug and maybe a little time to yourself. When was the last time you had an hour for you?”

Your eyes crinkle tightly, your mouth twists. You get that weird rush of tingles all over your face and the heat of collecting tears. “It’s not like that,” you insist. “I love you, I don’t want time away from you, I swear.”

“I don’t want time away from you.” He kisses your cheek, twice, a third time, each one with more pressure than the kiss before. “I just mean… I don’t know, baby, I just thought you might be dealing with a lot.”

The worst thing bursts out of you, because you need him to tell you it’s not true. “I’m such a bad mom.”

The crying is unfortunate and immediate, your shoulders seizing under his arm. Eddie could tell it was coming, you’re sure, he doesn’t baulk, he never does.

“You’re not a bad mom, you’re a great mom,” he says, followed by a great wave of shushing.

“I’m awful, I’m supposed to be so much better, I can’t even remember her snacks.”

“Snacks are a really huge part of being a mom,” he says, “but she doesn’t care. She forgave you the moment you said sorry. You think she cares about her yoghurts? That’s not why she sits there waiting everyday after school, is it?”

“You asked me to get them and I forgot.”

“Well, should we call the cops now or later?”

“Eddie.”

He ushers your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, but you haven’t done anything that would make you a bad mom.”

You’re not Roan’s natural mother, you didn’t carry her, and so you find yourself in a privileged position. She treats you as she would a mom, she calls you mommy every day. You’re still letting her down.

“I love you, and Ro, and I wouldn’t be with someone who doesn’t love her, but you know… you really– you give more effort than we ever asked you to. You’re amazing. I never could have imagined getting to be with someone I love, and who loves my girl like she’s their own.” His murmuring takes the wryness of someone who knows what they’re saying is immeasurably corny, and he doesn’t stop. “She doesn’t know how lucky she is, but I do.”

“She deserves more.”

“She deserves you. You love her.”

You scrub your face, hiding from him behind your fingers. He waits in the quiet, now rubbing your back in large passes of his hand.

“Is that the only thing that’s making you like this?”

“I just feel like… everything I do, I could do better. Everything. And lately I feel so ugly. I thought this stuff would go away,” you confess, letting your hands fall away.

“I don’t think worrying ever goes away. Everybody worries about something.”

He ushers you back, the arm that warmed your shoulders dropping, his hand reaching instead for your face. He thumbs at tearstains and your damp top lip. “Please don’t cry,” he says, “you’re not ugly, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re killer, you always have been, but it’s my fault you don’t know that. I don’t tell you enough.”

He must tell you everyday, some days he tells you ten times or more. Still, it’s nice to have him say it, to place the blame of your insecurities on him, to try and make it his problem and not yours. It’s extremely loving, if extremely untrue.

“Sorry, Eddie. I think you’re right. Think I need to sleep, and, I don’t know. Stop feeling sorry for myself.” You smile weakly.

“I don’t think that’s what it is. If you need me to tell you what I think about you to feel better, I’ll do it every hour of the day.” He beams at you. “I hate when you cry.”

You huff a laugh. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

“No– No, I don’t mean it like that. Don’t make me an asshole. I’m happy to see you smile again.”

“You give a good pep talk.”

“Can I give you a kiss now, is that alright?”

“If you stop being so nice after.”

Eddie turns his face and kisses you soundly. His hand climbs to your neck, his index finger draws a short, light line up your throat as his lips move against yours, and curls into itself as he pulled away to stroke gently under your chin. Then he gives you a shove, forcing you to lay down.

“Cheer up, dummy. You’re a great mom and you’re gonna be the best wife. Chill out.”

You catch one of his mean hands to hold to your tummy.

He sits there with you for ages. Five minutes turns to ten, then ten to fifteen, nothing else said, but his hand unmoving where you’ve put it.

“Ro!” he calls eventually. “Where’d you go, bub? Are you okay?”

Her mouth is obviously full when she calls back, “I’m okay!”

“That rascal is eating my Twinkies,” he says.

“Go stop her,” you say, pinching his fingers between yours playfully, softly, one at a time.

“We’re having time to ourselves.”

“I don’t need time away from her.”

“I know. But you need time to lay down without somebody bugging you to play, or watch her do a handstand. She’ll come back as soon as she’s hid the evidence, anyways.” He rolls his eyes. “Like I won’t notice.”

You crawl towards him and curl around him, locking him in place. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“It’s literally my favourite thing to do.”

Your front to his back where he’s sitting, your face against the back of his hip, you kiss his t-shirt. He makes a soft sound, breathing out, his hands covering your arm where you’ve hooked him at the waist.

—

more eddie, roan and reader

[eddie-van-munson]

-Young Dad!Eddie who has lost his high-school sweetheart to childbirth, and is now left all alone with his newborn baby girl.

-Young Dad!Eddie who's trying so desperately to ignore his grief that he barely even lets himself sleep for the first several weeks of his daughter's life.

-Young Dad!Eddie who struggles to accept help from Wayne or Robin and  Steve...anyone really...because he's trying so hard to do right by the love he's lost.

-Young Dad!Eddie that's determined to prove to himself that he's going to be able to take care of this angel that he's been left with.

-Young Dad!Eddie that owes everything to Wayne, who takes care of his little love all day long so that Eddie can work double, or even triple shifts to make ends meet.

-Young Dad!Eddie that lives to hold his baby girl. Who sits in bed alone with his newborn and giggles to himself as she clumsily tries to nurse the tip of his nose or the apple of his cheek.

-Young Dad!Eddie who carries a snapshot of his daughter's sweet, drooly, toothless grin in his wallet...right along side a well-loved, dog-earred one of her mom.

-Young Dad!Eddie that's so lonely, but can't stomach the idea of trying to meet someone new, despite his loved ones' encouragement

-Young Dad!Eddie who has a deeply buried streak of separation anxiety.

-Young Dad!Eddie who sometimes talks to the photo of his daughter's mother that sits on his beside table...mumbling to her about their baby girl as he drifts off at night.

-Young!Dad Eddie that feels his loneliness so deep in his stomach...like a painful knot.

-Young Dad!Eddie who can feel his body physically relax when he's finally able to scoop up his girl and kiss her chubby little cheeks at the end of his day. 

-Young Dad!Eddie that sings little songs and blows raspberries against his baby's bare tummy to hear her squeal and giggle so loudly.

-Young Dad!Eddie that holds his daughter's tiny foot up to his ear. Hello? Oh, it's for you, ma'am.

-Young Dad!Eddie who lets his angel yank his curls to her little heart's content

-Young Dad!Eddie who will often fall asleep with his daughter resting against his bare chest (even though he's technically not supposed to) because he needs her with him.

***********

I want to make this a fic so bad. What do you guys think?

[tarjapearce]

We need to see some early little content of baby gabi, like first time parents! Like them figuring out the routine and dealing with diapers, throw up, crying, and some new firsts!

A Series of First With Baby Gabriella ~ (Pt. 1)

Warning: Mild mild angst, rotting fluff.

His baby girl, his firstborn, Gabriella had been born. He'd spend hours to no end watching her. Little waves, a reminiscence of him, perched over her tiny head.

She had been hours since she came to this world, finally fulfilling one of the deepest and hidden yearnings that came as soon as he knew he loved you. Being a father.

He was scared. Miguel out of everyone knew his childhood had been anything but easy. Even to this day, things were hard and some days they were too overwhelming to ignore. But now, a new purpose had been added to his list. Be everything he didn't have for his baby girl.

Be the best father a girl could ask for. And hopefully one day, the best example of a husband many men would strive to imitate.

The coos and little cries of his girl returned all the attention back to her, her whole hand wrapped around his finger. But in truth it was the opposite.

She didn't need to make anything outrageous to have his whole attention, Gabriella had him wrapped around her tiny and squeezing fingers, ready to make a wonderful father out of him.

You were asleep, on bed, exhausted. Gladly giving into your body's whims to rest. Delivery was a bit tricky, but with the doctor's and nurse's help you were just fine and his daughter in perfect conditions. Like he had been longing for.

"Mírate no más, igualita a mí" (Look at you, so like me)

His eyes softened as his thumb stroked  ever gently at her hair. She stirred and grunted while she stretched. The little yawn and her almost nuzzling in his chest made his chest to swell up in pride.

His lips pressed softly over and over against her forehead, he felt like hallucinating, since Gabi's lips twitched in a little shy smile.

----

The first night back at home you had to drag Miguel out of Gabi's baby room. A baby monitor in her crib had given you both enough reassurance for the night. It had been only a couple of months since you moved into your new house and bit by bit, everything started to be full of baby things. Preparing for the arrival of your baby.

And now, it's owner had finally came, the room was complete. His house felt complete with Gabi in it.

A pale lilac adorned the walls, the crib white andk sturdy, a whole Sunday had been spent assembling it. Meaning, you'd watch Miguel doing so, giggling whenever he cursed or crumpled the instructions. Your routine was based on her first feeding she had back at the hospital. Meaning ten pm.

The next one was at 1 am, then at four, seven and so on. She ate every three hours. Sometimes, Miguel would come home and find you curled up on the couch or any other surface cushioned enough for you to rest.

And when you'd wake up, you'll always be in your bed, tucked in. Sometimes, you'd find yourself startling out of nowhere when you heard Gabi's door opening up. Only to find Miguel changing her diapers if needed and sharing time with her.

You'd kiss his cheek and held his hand, pulling him away even though his feet refused at first. "C'mon, let her rest. You need to sleep and so do I."

"I know." He kissed in return your forehead, "Thank you."

---

If he could get a picture of his baby girl, every day, he would. But nothing compared to experiencing meaningful moments right there next to her.

The first laugh you got from Gabi was when she nibbled your nipple, the soft nub was nothing against her gums.

"Oww"

She giggled again as she slapped your breast softly. Your fingers caressed her head lovingly, gentle voice lulled her to sleep.

"Glad you're happy chewing my nipple, princesita"

With Miguel things were different, she'd burst into the loudest laughing fit when he'd blow raspberries into her tummy. Excited and kicking feet moved playfully, her hands latched on his dark waves.

"Gimme a smile"

Gabi stared at him as he yawned, too interested in the pair of fangs that peeked out of his plump mouth. Seeing no effect in her, he tried a little growl.

She cooed, the smile creeping up in her little lips. Miguel roared, or at least attempted to roar, Gabi's laugh soared through the room, but quieted down once your steps approached.

"Whose there?"

Miguel taunted, Gabi's expectant eyes darted towards the door, a coo accompanied her.

"Es tu mami." He mumbled with a smile. (It's your mommy)

Gabi smiled, shook her hands and kicked her legs upon seeing you. Her little pony tail swaying.

"Where's my little chomper?"

"Pa pa!"

You gasped as Miguel took Gabi excitedly.

"Dilo de nuevo, Solecito. Whose that?" (Say it again, Sunshine)

"It's Mama, Gabibi"

"Pa pa!"

You couldn't help but gasp audibly, faking betrayal as Gabi squealed while Miguel smothered her in kisses.

Miguel 1, Mama 0.

"I'm switching you to bottle!"

Gabi gave a feisty grunt at your words as if saying 'You wouldn't dare!' But Miguel's laugh made her to cup his face and grin.

"Pa pa"

"Yes, Solecito?"

A bubbly laugh erupted from her, as she tried to bite his cheeks. Her first words had been dedicated to none but him. Another little milestone added to his personal list.

Nothing however had prepared him for another milestone the both of you feared, yet unavoidably happened.

Gabriella fell sick.

Fever had made a fussy and crying mess out of her. Guilt only grew as you had ignored the signals of her eventual illness. She was restless through her feeding hours, and ate in between breaks. She cried and ate.

And no matter how much you tried to make her less fussy, she'd only cry harder before breaking into a fever.

Her wailing only made you scared and anxiety soon took over you, in between tears you called Miguel and explained. He'd ask permission for work to then fly home and take you to the pediatrician with Gabriella.

Nothing more than an ear infection. Even though antibiotics had been given to her, Miguel would rock her slowly, rubbing her back in soothing circles,

Gabi would rub her eyes, and the outer of her ear while exhaling a little pained whimpering

"I know, mijita. You'll feel better ok?"

He whispered while kissing her forehead. It distressed him greatly to see his baby in such discomfort. She slept longer than usual, fed a little before going back to sleep. You both missed her laugh and usual feisty attitude.

He'd be always welcomed with a little squeal or a gurgling mumble. But now it was everything but silence.

But eventually the infection went away, leaving room for her health to be back.

---

Gabi was now seven months, Her urge to crawl had been stronger, only to fall into her butt. But her perseverance made her to crawl faster and climb things with such agility it made her almost an unstoppable force you'd often been reckoned with.

You'd have startles like getting her last minute before she crawled up or down the stairs. Sometimes you'd burn food to chase her, and when you'd get her she'd squeal and drool over your cheek while trying to kiss you.

"You'll kill me in one of these jumpscares, mi amor. "

She'd giggle and mumble a clear Mama

"Yes, bebita? You're hungry?"

Your little princess would screech, and point at the boiling pot. It always amazed her to no end to see the lid clattering and seeing bubbles underneath it. Or see you dance at the beat of cumbias, merengue and punta.

The latter had her squirming at the beats of the drums while clapping.

As she reached her ten months, she'd surprise you both and Miguel that had your hearts racing.

You were on the living room, playing on the floor with her, Miguel sat across you.

"Solecito, come here" Miguel urged as he motioned her to come, which she followed to a T. She crawled to him but stopped midway

"Come, come" Miguel kept ebbing her to follow him, but Gabi's eyes were set on him.

You helped her to stand and even though her steps wobbled, she didn't stop. Miguel and you shared a complicity look before you let Gabi go.

Big and loving hands motioned her to get to him. A steady step followed by a wobbly one, Gabi balanced herself and cooed, toddler eyes filled with wonder and joy as she followed Miguel's voice, occasionally looking back to you, as if asking 'Like this, Mama?'

"Go to Papa, mi amor!"

Miguel crouched and opened her arms to her, ready to catch her if she fell. But she didn't. In fact, as she approached Miguel her feet took speed.

Her dear Papa took her in his strong arms and thew her in the air, happy for another meaningful milestone he got to witness.

But that would only bring new and near heart attacks experiences.

Ever since she started walking, Gabi would run after Miguel and hold onto his ankle, crying a loud and maudlin Papa, No!

She wanted him to stay, she wanted him to hold her and put her to sleep, but he had to go.

"Solecito, I'll be back"

She'd cry a harder "No!"

"Gabi, mi amor, come here."

"Papa!"

She'd climb to her and who was Miguel to say no to his baby?

He cradled her and kissed her chubby cheek.

"I'll be back, okay? Se buena con tu mamá, 'ta bien?" (Be good to your mom, okay?)

She nodded in between little hiccups and whines as Miguel handled her over to you after kissing her forehead.

"Wanna go shopping with me, princesita?"

She pointed at a leaving Miguel.

"I know, mi niña, he'll be back, okay? Let's get you ready to go."

As soon as Miguel came through the main door, Gabi ran to him and clung to his leg with a wide beam.

"Papa!"

He picked her up and smooched her cheek, "Hola mi chiquita, God, I missed you." He came closer to you and smiled, "I missed you too."

The two most important women of his life were always waiting for him and his return. Finally, his dream had come true.

[reysdriver]

Exit Stage Right | R.L

You and your daughter miss Remus while he's performing for a stadium of fans, so much that you have to see him before the concert is over — dad!rockstar!remus x mom!reader fluff

warnings: a little angsty if you squint rlly hard, but nothing else

words: 2.4k

a/n: I promised rockstar!remus a while ago, but I've been to 2 concerts in the last 2 weeks, which just so happens to be finals season, so I've been simultaneously busy as hell and itching to write this. I hope you like how it turned out!

Your daughter Olive was no stranger to loud noises. 

Remus had a room to practise drumming in your house, it’s normal to encounter a chaotic mess of fans and paparazzi when you left the house as a family, and she just about had the loudest uncles in the world. Though you tried to limit the amount of noise she took in, Olive’s little ears had definitely adapted to her hectic little life. 

But all that noise in her daily life was no match for a rock concert in a sold-out stadium. Those decibel levels would for sure be far too high for her little ears to handle.

It wasn’t as easy of a decision on what you should do with her tonight, though. You were getting cabin fever with all the identical hotel rooms you’ve been living in while The Marauders were on their tour, and you suspected Olive was in the same boat. 

So, you decided to go back to the old days when the band first started going on long tours, when you would stay in the dressing room for the length of the performance. You and Remus figured it would be soundproof enough backstage, but you still insisted on pulling out the baby headphones you had bought just in case before she was even born. You were only planning on using them if it got especially loud backstage, yet you tried them on anyway. 

They were massive on her, but they kept her safe and happy. Plus, she was pretty damn adorable with them on—not that she wasn’t all the time, but definitely cuter than normal with those giant headphones. 

Waiting for the show to start, Remus bounced Olive on his lap while you watched the rest of the guys run through their current individual pre-show rituals. 

It had been quite a while since you’ve been backstage with the band right before a show, and you honestly forgot how entertaining it was. 

James was trying to solve the same Rubik’s cube he’s been working on for years to warm up his fingers, Peter was doing the daily crossword in the local newspaper, and Sirius was trying to multitask by doing his vocal warmups and his makeup at the same time. 

It was really a terrible combination of tasks, as Sirius kept on messing up his eyeliner and then trying to suppress his favourite swear words for your daughter’s sake. 

You wanted to tell him off, but it was really too fun to watch for you to intervene.

A minute or so after Sirius finally finished his look, the boys’ manager knocked on the dressing room door and reminded them that they have to go on stage soon. 

Remus thanked him, and the guys all started getting ready to go. He kept Olive in his arms for as long as he could, until it was just the three of you in the room after everyone was already headed to the stage. 

When he finally had to let her go, Remus made sure he gave you both a proper goodbye. 

“I’ll be back soon. Just over 2 hours, then we can all go home.” He kissed you softly, but deeply. He always does this as a way of saying goodbye, kissing you like he might never do it again, but he doesn’t want you to think about it. 

When his lips left yours and he slouched down to blow a raspberry on Olive’s tummy, you sighed quietly. “A hotel, not home.” 

He looked at you sympathetically as he collected his drumsticks from the table beside you and stored them in his back pocket for the time being. 

“Isn’t home anywhere where we’re all together?” He said, trying to lift your spirits. “But we’ll be home home soon enough. And I won’t be on tour again for a while, and we can be all together as much as we want.”

That did make you feel better. Even though you loved that Remus was living his dream with his best friends and giving you and Olive a great life, it did get stressful from time to time. 

Privacy violations by paparazzi and media outlets, insecurity that sometimes got the best of you on both sides of the relationship, and of course, The Marauders going on world tours that were fun, but still somewhat torture. They made it so you had to choose between leaving home for months, or being away from Remus—not that there was any difference between those two. 

You didn’t want to get emotional right when Remus had to go perform, so you smiled and reminded him that it was time for you to part ways for the evening. 

“They’re waiting for you out there.” 

A grin graced your husband’s face. “They can wait a little longer.” 

“They paid to see you.” You reminded him. 

“And I'll personally refund all of them if I don't go out.” 

“Then we'll be out of money, and we'll both have to get new jobs and we'll never have any time with just the three of us.”

Remus pretended to think over your point for a second. “You’re right. I guess I have to go out and perform, then.”

“Put on a good show, honey. We'll see you soon.” 

While saying goodbye to him, you raised Olive’s arm so you could wave at Remus for her as he walked out of the dressing room. Her face was already forming a pout when she watched her dad leave to go do his job, but you wouldn’t let that morph into anything more. 

You turned her around so you could both look at each other, then you pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.

“None of that, sweetheart. We’ll see him again in no time.” 

Laying her down beside you on the couch, you reach down into the baby bag you never go anywhere without and pick out some of her favourite toys from their specific pocket; hopefully those will keep her distracted and happy. 

◆◇◆◇◆

The toys didn’t work as well as you thought they would. They kept Olive busy for about an hour, but she seemed to snap out of her happy baby daze out of nowhere. 

She started crying and nothing was working to calm her down. She wasn’t hungry, she didn’t need to be changed, and nothing you had brought for this very reason was working. 

You knew the only thing that could quell her upset was outside and on the stage, playing drums for a stadium of fans. But even though she and Remus both wished they could spend all hours of the day together, you just didn’t know how that could work.  

And then you remembered the headphones. 

The sound backstage hadn’t been that loud at all while The Marauders were playing, so you honestly hadn’t thought about them since you and Remus packed them before you left the hotel. 

But this could work. You could use them to help both you and Olive right now. So that’s what you did.

You dug through your bag and pulled the noise-cancelling headphones from the bottom of the bag, where they had sat untouched for the longest time. After picking them up with a tiny ‘aha’, you smiled at your daughter and told her that she would soon be seeing her dad. 

She had calmed down somewhat due to the mere mention of Remus, but she was still wailing in your arms. You bounced her lightly while you walked down the halls of the stadium. 

“It’s okay, honey.” You cooed at Olive, despite the fact that she couldn’t hear a thing. “You’re gonna tire yourself out and fall asleep before you even get to see Daddy. We don’t want that, do we?”

Although, maybe her crying herself to sleep wouldn’t be so bad. 

It still wasn’t an option in your mind. Your daughter wanted to see her dad, so over to Remus you’ll go. 

Once you got to the stage door, a burly security guard gave you a questioning look. You supposed he wasn’t used to a woman and a baby wanting to go into the wings during a rock concert. But he was just there to do his job, not judge, so he let you through when you showed him your ID. 

You kept checking Olive’s face to see her expressions and gauge if everything was too loud for her. Her look didn’t deviate from the bothered expression her face took on when you started walking with her, so you assumed the headphones were cancelling out the noise, just as they were made for. 

Nobody who was working backstage seemed to mind you being there, so you found an extra stool in a dark corner and pulled it so you could sit and watch the band. 

Based just on how Olive was moving in your arms, you knew she had spotted her dad behind the cymbals he was smashing across the stage. Pointing towards Remus, you whispered to her again even though she couldn’t hear you. “Look! Who’s that? Who’s over there?”

She seemed to be cheered up enough just from seeing Remus, so your hypothesis was proven correct. Things were shaping up to be a good night. 

You swayed and headbanged—as lightly as possible—since just because Olive couldn’t enjoy the loud music doesn’t mean you had to ignore it too. 

The current song ended, and James was talking to the crowd while Sirius drank some much-needed water after all that singing. While taking a swig, the two familiar faces in the wings of the stage caught his eye, and he just had to share what he was seeing with the drummer. 

He practically skipped over to Remus, who was also catching his breath from performing and pointed you out. Your husband’s eyes scanned the area until he found you, and his face immediately broke out into a smile—and so did your daughter’s. 

Back in the dressing room, you were hesitant if you should leave at all or if you should just wait out Olive’s tantrum, but the matching looks on your husband and daughter’s faces right now was proof that you made the right decision. 

Olive made grabby hands towards her dad across the stage, and Remus waved right back and blew a kiss in your direction. You weren’t quite sure if it was aimed at you or your little girl, but it made you blush either way. 

He pointed to the setlist taped to the ground beside him and hid his hand behind his bass drum so the audience wouldn’t see his gesture; he held up three fingers to let you know there would be three more songs until he could get up and give you two his full attention. You knew they would most definitely be doing an encore after they finished, but at least they could all have a small break after the main show.  

You nodded to show him you understood, but his attention was already grabbed back by James giving him the sign that it was time to get back into the music. Not even taking more than a second to prepare, Remus was back in the groove and started playing the next song on the list, effortlessly and perfectly. 

The last few songs of the main set were some of your favourites from the band’s discography, but you had to admit that you couldn’t enjoy them as much as you usually would. 

It was mainly because you were somewhat scared of an impending mood swing out of your daughter now that her father’s attention had left her, but also because these three songs were standing in between you and your husband like a brick wall right now. You just had to remind yourself that once they hit that last note and said their goodbyes to the crowd, that wall would be temporarily smashed once more. 

But now, they were at the end of the concert. The crowd was cheering like they just had the best night of their lives—you don’t doubt that they did—and Remus was throwing his sticks into the sea of hands desperate for a morsel of The Marauders. 

His rockstar persona was dropped the second those drumsticks left his hands, and he was rushing to the wings to be with you and Olive, a wide smile strung across his cheeks.

 He pulled you two out into the hall so the crowd’s noise could be in the background. He knew they would be cheering for an encore in a minute; as much as he loved that sound, he would rather hear you. 

“She was getting pretty fussy and I knew you were the only thing that would calm her down.” You explained to Remus before he could even ask. 

You were afraid he would be upset with you bringing her outside of the dressing room, but he didn’t seem fazed at all. He gently took Olive from your arms and cooed over her. 

“You missed me so much you dragged your mum out here so you could see me, huh?” Remus asked her. “You know I missed you too, princess. Both of you.”

“Yeah? Maybe you should get the guys to shorten the setlist so you aren’t away from us for too long, then.”

He didn’t respond, but you know that he had brought up the idea of shorter tours to the others now that he and James were both fathers. 

You watched lovingly as Remus kept moving Olive’s hand away from the glitter on his face that she was so desirous to touch. You wished you all could stay in this moment forever, but the audience’s chants for an encore were getting louder and louder and you knew the scene in front of you couldn’t last much longer. 

Right on schedule, James strutted up and tapped Remus on the shoulder with a brand new pair of drumsticks. 

“We’ve gotta go back out there, mate. Time to part ways with your girls once again.”

Remus wouldn’t put up a fight. He handed Olive back to you and blew one more kiss at you two as a goodbye.

The doors opened and a cacophony of fan cheers hit your ears. It was a lot, but it just reminded you that all those people were waiting for your husband, so you could wait a few more minutes. 

Just two final songs, then you could all go home.

[m4ttslvr]

High By The Beach

sub!chris x fem!reader

one shot: where you get high by the beach with your bff chris but things get heated when you two are left alone ;)

warnings: smut, riding, fem receiving, drug use obv

——————————.ᘒ｡ﾟ𓇼･༄･—————————

Your guys' last day in Hawaii was coming to an end, the sun disappearing behind the slow waves of the clearest ocean you had ever seen. You, Chris, Matt, Nick and Madi had spent the day doing all sorts of fun activities- swimming with dolphins, taking a tour on a helicopter, walking all over the island visiting stores and restaurants. Needless to say, you were all exhausted from the days itinerary.

That's why you were all resting at the beach, sitting in a circle by the fire, recounting the days events while passing a joint around.

"And then Nick slapped the dolphin!" Matt was saying, all of you dying of laughter. Nick who was taking a drag of the joint choked on the smoke, making everyone laugh harder.

"I apologized to Mr. Squeaky!" Nick defended between coughs and laughter, "He sneaked up behind me, I didn't mean to do it!"

Chris, who was laying his head on your lap, took the joint from Nick's hand, "If I was Mr. Squeaky, I would have bit you" he joked, earning a dramatic scoff from Nick.

You giggled, Chris grinning up at you, his eyelids low. You watch him as he wraps his pink lips around the roll of weed, his cheekbones prominent as he inhales the smoke, his hair tickling your thighs, and his jawline sharp as he blows the smoke up at you.

“Hey!” you protest, falling back into the sand. “Stop that you goof!”

His head rolls over onto your exposed tummy and he looks at you with a mischievous smile, discarding the finished joint. He puffs his cheeks and before you realize what he’s going to do, he leans forward and blows a raspberry on your tummy making you laugh uncontrollably.

“Chris! Chris!” you say between gasps for air, he’s now tickling your sides while blowing raspberries. “Stop it” your hands are on his hair but you’re too weak to push him off.

He pulls away laughing with his tongue sticking out “You’re tummy was right there, I had to!” You roll your eyes. You’re about to protest when he stuffs a marshmallow in your mouth. Your protests are muffled by the marshmallow and he breaks into a louder fit of laughter.

You can’t get annoyed at his actions. His laughter is super contagious and with the weed in your system you can’t help but join him.

Your laugh is cut off by Madi yelling “I’m awake!” out of nowhere. You all watch her as she slowly falls onto Matt’s shoulder and she shoots up again “I’m awake I swear!” she mumbles, her eyes closing.

“Alright!” Nick exclaims, “time for bed!”. Matt agrees and carries Madi to the hotel.

“Whaaat?” Chris whines, sitting up. “I was about to light up my other joint!”

“You haven’t had enough?” Nick asks.

“No” Chris deadpans. “Have you y/n? Cmon back me up” he pleads.

“I could have another few more hits” you shrug.

“Alright you stoners,” Nick replies. “Have fun!”

“Niiiight Nicky” you both wave goodbye.

The fire is dying out and the breeze is getting cooler, as Chris searches his shorts pockets for the other joint. “Whoops.”

“What?” you ask.

“I…may have… already smoked the other joint earlier”

“Chris!”

“Sorry y/n!” he falls back into the sand next to you, defeated. “I forgot I did that”

You both sigh, looking up at the starry night, the fire died out completely.

You turn to look at him, his side profile stunning. You were always taken aback by your best friend’s beauty, no matter how many years of friendship you had under your belt. His wavy hair fell over his face perfectly, like a prince. His nose sculpted like a greek statue, and his cheekbones like a model’s. His dark blue eyes as blue as the ocean a few feet away from you.

Those eyes were looking back at you now. “Hey” his voice quiet.

“Hey” you smiled.

A silence settled between you. The silence usually comfortable, but right now, for some reason, you were getting nervous with his eyes on you. You felt your cheeks get hot and you couldn’t hold eye contact with him.

“Am I making you blush y/n?”

“What? No!” you quipped. It wasn’t unusual for Chris to jokingly flirt but something about how he looked tonight and the heat of his body…it was making you panic.

“You sure?” he has a smirk on his face, unaware of his effect on you.

“Yeah- yes I’m sure. I’m just getting chilly. The sun set already, the fire is out and the breeze is cool, I’m in this swim suit.” you ramble. “Can we get in the tent or something?”

“Sure” he helps you up and tucks you under the blankets, cuddling up against you.

This was okay. You were cool about this. You and Chris cuddled all the time. Best friends cuddle. Best friends share the same tent and cuddle under the same blankets. Right? Yeah! Of course. This was normal and cool.

His arm brushed your breasts as he lifted it to wrap it behind your neck. Your heart skipped a beat and you felt something flutter down there. Alright, now you were blushing hard. Like this your breasts pressed against his side and you you felt your nipples get hard. You knew he could feel them through the thin fabric of your bikini top.

“You alright?” he asked, his voice huskier than before. God, what was happening to you? Now you were noticing a change in his voice? It must be the weed in your system. Of course! The weed is the one making you think like this.

“Mhm” you hummed, your pitch high. It was obvious you were not alright. He must feel your heart beating out of your chest and your legs rubbing against each other.

“You sure?” he asks again.

“Yes Chris I’m alr-“ you stop mid sentence when your leg slides up his body and it hits something hard, causing a low moan to escape Chris.

You both freeze in place, both of you shocked at what just happened. You had just felt Chris’ erection on your leg and clearly heard him moan.

Chris is the first to move, sitting up and hiding his face in his hands. You sit up next to him, placing a soft hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry y/n, I don’t know what happened” his voice muffled against his hands.

“It’s okay Chris, don’t worry about it”

“I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, i’m sorry”

“I’m not uncomfortable Chris” you reassure him. “I’m actually…feeling…the same.”

Your feel him tense under your hand. You can’t believe you just admitted that. You just admitted to your best friend that you’re as turned on by him as he is by you.

He slowly lifts his face from his hands, turning to look at you. You see a hunger in his eyes that you’ve never seen before as he scans your face, his gaze lingering on your bitten lips. “R-really?”

You nod slowly, shuffling closer to him. Your body was acting on its own, as if by a magnetic pull. You wanted nothing more than to be pressed up against him again. You wanted to be the cause of his moans again. Now that you’ve had a taste, you were starving for more.

You leaned forward and kissed your best friends lips. They were softer than you thought and you tasted marshmallow. His lashes tickeled your cheeks as you deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding on your bottom lip. You pulled him closer, your fingers in his hair. You parted your lips, letting him explore your mouth with his tongue. He hear him moan for the second time tonight and the sound goes directly to your pussy, making it throb with yearning.

You guided his body down to lay on his back, his eyes locked on yours. You could both see in each other’s eyes that you both thought this was crazy, you had been best friends for years now, nothing more. But you could also see the fiery desire in your expressions and that overpowered any other reasoning.

You lifted one leg over his body and he quickly guided your hips down to his groin with his hands. You could feel every inch of his growing erection against your wet heat, making you both moan in unison. He felt big which didn’t surprise you, but it did make you instinctively grind against it.

“Fuck y/n” Chris groaned underneath you, his head tilting back in pleasure. Your tummy did a flip, desire growing hot inside of you. It was intoxicating to be the reason he’s making those filthy noises.

He gripped your hips tighter, his biceps contracting, grinding your hips against him. “More more more” he pleaded. You had never seen this side of Chris, so needy and whiny. Every sound escaping his mouth was heavenly.

His cock was rock hard now and your bikini bottoms were soaked. “Enough grinding” your voice breathy but your tone stern. His eyes wide and expectant. “I’m dying to ride this cock”

“Mmm yes please” Chris whimpered, his hip bucking up as you slid his shorts down. “God y/n, youre hypnotizing” he mumbled, lifting himself on his elbows to admire you. Your ass was up in the air, back arched, and your teeth biting down on your lip to keep from drooling.

His boxers were wet at the spot where the tip of his cock was leaking precum. You leaned your head down toward it, licking through the fabric. Chris inhaled through his teeth, his eyes rolling back.

You reached over to grab his hand and place it in your hair, “pull it”

He quickly obeyed, wrapping your hair in his long fingers and pulling. You moaned against his clothed cock, the vibrations making his dick twitch. “Holy shit” he groaned out.

You wrapped your lips around his hard cock, tasting his precum through his boxers. He was watching you in awe. You took in every expression he made, looking up through your eyelashes.

“y/n?” he moaned as you started palming him.

“Mhm?”

“I…..I-I've dreamt of tasting your pussy for the longest time y/n, can I please? I promise I'll make it good, please let me taste you on my tongue” he begs.

You're hypnotized by his string of pleas. You quietly crawl up to straddle his face. He takes your ass in both of his big hands, pulling you down quickly onto his mouth.

Your back arches in pleasure as his hot tongue licks a fat stripe up your folds. Your head falls back, your eyes in the back of your head. “Fuck yeah Chris,” you moan, riding his face.

He’s making all sorts of porn-like noises into your wet pussy. “Just like that Chris, fuck yeah, right there”

He is assaulting your hole with quick jabs of his tongue. It reaches impossibly deep inside you. He folds it in a way that scratches that sensitive bundle of nerves, making your legs shake.

You feel pleasure pool in your belly and you lift off him. He whines at the loss of contact.

“Need your cock now” you shuffle down to straddle his lap and align his memeber with your pulsating hole.

You sink down on his cock, balls deep. His jaw hangs open, his body washed in so much pleasure that the only noise he’s able to form is a small squeak. “You like my tight pussy taking in your entire cock like this, hmm baby?

He nods, another small squeak, his jaw slack, his eyes in the back of his head.

You start bouncing on his cock, sliding all the way to the tip and slamming back down to the base. His girth is spreading you wide open and his length is hitting you just right. “Your dick’s so big, making me feel so good baby,”

“Mhm,” his grip on your thighs tightens.

“Am I making you feel good baby?"

He nods fast, his hair sticking to his forehead.

“Tell me how good”

He moans louder, biting the sheets at his side.

“Tell me how good Chris”

“So fucking good y/n/n, you're fucking me so good”

Your hips stutter at the mention of your nickname. He usually ever only called you that when he was being serious with you. In this context, it only motivated you to give it to him harder and rougher.

“Yeah baby? You like my pussy slapping down on your balls like this?”

“Yes yes yes, you're riding me so well y/n/n" he said between gasps for air, "your pussy feels heavenly y/n/n- ah just like that mhmm”

You take his hands placing them above his head as you arch your back so your clit is rubbing against his groin. His attention is now completely on the feeling of your pussy grinding down on his cock. He’s moaning and whining incoherent praises, his eyes shut closed.

You wrap your free hand around his jaw making his eyes widen, “be a good boy and fuck up into me” you pant into his open mouth.

His breath hitches and a beat later he’s slamming his dick up into your pussy, making wet sounds reverberate inside the tent. You are both panting hot air into each other's mouths. Chris starts whimpering when you swivel your hips in small circles. You take his bottom lip between your teeth, “want it to last”

He slows his movements, pumping slow and deep into you as you grind down into him. “Yes y/n/n, whatever you want”

“You're so good to me baby, doing everything I say”, your legs start to quiver and your elbows fall on either side of his head. This pace is excruciatingly pleasurable and you feel your cunt clench around his full member.

“Make me cum sweet boy” you whisper shakily in his ear.

He wasted no time pumping fast into you, his hands flying down to your waste, slamming your hips down into every thrust up of his hips. Your hands grip onto his hair as your pussy clenched around him, your orgasm ripping through you in a string of loud moans.

He spurts hot cum into your pussy with a couple last hard thrusts, coating your walls and groaning deeply in your ear. The mix of your juices with his cum drip out of you coating his balls and your spent body drapes over him.

He stays inside you as you both come down from your highs.

“Loved every fucking second of that Chris” you whisper, lifting yourself to look him in the eyes.

“Yeah?” he asks softly, a sweet smile on his face.

“Yeah” you replied, elated.

“Me too y/n/n” he kisses your forehead and you smile, resting against his chest. You both drift off to sleep at a beach in Hawaii.

a/n: my first chris smut 😵‍💫 i’m feeling things !!!! hope u enjoyed<3

— LEV ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

[nsharks]

I don’t know if your taking request, but if you’re not please ignore me.! But my request is Simon kid got a tantrum and Simon is comforting them🥺 (Please excuse my English. It’s not my native language </3)

oh honey you are totally fine! and I love this request so I had to do it right away <3

simon comforts his son during a tantrum

very brief abuse mention

“What do we need the cranberries for, love?”

Simon’s pushing the grocery cart with your son in it. Meanwhile, you drag your feet behind him, your infant daughter asleep in a carrier against your chest. It seems, recently, she prefers sleeping during the day. The evidence of this is clear in the slackness under yours eyes.

Simon was used to preforming on little sleep. It’s easy to say he’s handling the week of regression much better than you are.

“Salad,” you answer numbly. One hand rubs at your eyes, as if that will make them feel any less heavy, and the other hand rests on your daughter’s back. “We’re having that salad I like tonight, remember?”

“Well, gonna have to find something else.” He raises a brow and juts a finger towards the shelf. “All out. Bloody hell, who’s buying cranberries this time o’ year besides you?”

You don’t even have it in you to remind him to watch his language. Sighing, you chew at your lip and offer a small, lazy smile. Having him here, not just to help but to keep you sane, is something you cherish. Even through your lack of your sleep, you savor the moment; grocery shopping with your family.

With Simon’s bare face on display.

In public.

Something you were surprisingly used to now.

It’s funny; you had sex with him, loved him, before you ever saw his face. And now it’s a face that you get to watch bury in your children’s tummies to blow raspberries in the mornings.

“What do you think, bug?” Simon asks the toddler in the cart, touching his little chin. “Maybe salad isn’t the right call for tonight, huh?”

“Don’t get him on your side,” you huff. “You never want my salad.”

“I’d just prefer to eat a real meal,” Simon shrugs, glancing over the shelves as you walk through the aisle. You should’ve known he had already been thinking about hijacking the dinner tonight.

And in this moment that Simon is distracted, looking for stuff to make a real meal, the toddler in the cart leans over to grab something.

It’s a glass jar.

Manages to get both little hands on it and bring it to his lap in the cart.

“What are ya-“

Simon frowns and looks down at him.

“What do you have there?” he says and your eyes widen when you see your son hold up the jar precariously with his chubby hands. “Nuh-uh, kid. Not gonna happen.”

Simon tuts at him and easily takes the jar away, but the action must feel like the end of the world to your two-year-old, because he immediately begins to cry.

Like screaming crying.

You should be used to it.

And you are.

How many nights had you dealt with your toddler’s tantrums all by yourself, his father miles away?

But today you’re tired, and your ears are ringing, and frankly you feel like crying yourself when your son starts flailing his arms around, trying to get the jar back.

“No, kid, you can’t have-“

“Simon,” you sigh and shift the baby against your chest, whose starting to wake up. “I’ll take them both outside. You finish getting everything.”

Shaking his head, Simon is already lifting the crying toddler from the cart and firmly telling you, “No, I’ve got it. You just… pick out whatever you want, yeah? Salad is fine.”

You don’t protest.

It’s much easier for Simon to restrain the boy, simply grabbing both of his wrists in one hand so he can’t hit. And holds him against his hip as he makes his way outside.

Seven years with Simon and he’s grown (emotionally) before your eyes. He had to learn how to safely express love, and it took time, but now he knows exactly how to love you, your kids. Shows it in patient words and gentle fingertips and constant acts of service.

Sure, there are moments where he gets frustrated (particularly when the boy tries to hit his little sister).

But Simon knows how to just be quiet and calm and let his son feel what he needs to feel. Because had anyone ever let him do that as a kid? Had anyone ever taken him outside during a tantrum, sit on a bench and hold him close, rubbing his back?

“It’s okay to feel angry,” Simon murmurs to his son. His cheeks red and puffy. “I’ve got ya. I’m here.”

The boy slurs out babble that Simon’s trained ears recognize as “want it”.

“Right,” his father sighs low. “I know what you mean, kid. Get proper mad when I don't get what I want," and he brushes a thumb to his cheek, "But we've got to find something that helps us stay calm, yeah?"

Simon doesn’t scold your son. Doesn’t tell him it’s okay, because he understands that it might not feel that way. Doesn’t even give a shit that the crying is drawing attention from people. Simon just sits on the bench with him and lets the tantrum happen.

And as your son’s tantrum fades into sniffles and little hands twisting around in his father’s shirt, Simon can’t help but think about his own memories. Most of them faded or blacked out now, he still manages to recall a time when he cried like this and his father had pushed his face in the dirt for it.

“I’ll give you something to fucking cry about.”

The words burn in his mind. Catch in his throat and force him to swallow. He used to shut those memories out, keep them buried somewhere underneath gunfire and blood and a mask. But now he welcomes them whenever they surface, learns from them. Reminds himself that he didn’t deserve that treatment and neither do his own kids.

Simon holds the toddler even closer.

Hands splaying over his back and a small kiss to his forehead.

“Look at ya,” Simon mutters out a piece of praise. “Feeling calm, bug? Wanna go back to your mum?”

But the toddler shakes his head no and instead, they sit out there until you’re done with the shopping. When you finally walk out, you see that Simon is smirking in amusement, watching your son sit in his lap and draw his little finger over the skulls inked on his arm. A relaxing activity, perhaps, and the sight of it makes your heart spill over.

[anadiasmount]

something about dad!jude porfavorrrrr I need this in my life 😍😍😍 I feel like Jude would be such a good dad especially with a little girl. Aaaaaaa porfa haz esto

amorcito te quiero tanto, por eso te escribo este blurb para ti!! 😘 haven’t been okay since that pic with a little baby 😔💔

“look who it is ellie! it’s dada!” you say in a baby voice, jude walking in and immediately rushing to both of you. your daughter excitedly gasped and kicked her feet, anxious to be in her daddies hold. jude kisses her chubby cheeks and forehead, whispering just how much he missed her and you.

jude placed her on his side, his hand brushing your cheek and capturing your lips in an awaited kiss. just a couple days apart but it drive him crazy. he hated being away especially when the two of you were left alone. “how are you? was she okay?” he asked, walking into the kitchen hearing ellie blabbering.

“more than okay, she slept through all the nights, maybe woke up once or twice but overall she did so good,” you sighed, making a cup of tea for the two of you since it was late. you wore one of jude’s oversized tees and a pair of cookie monster oh shorts. jude finding it hard to be away, especially with his daughter along him.

he missed the two of you terribly. his thoughts constantly consumed at how you were doing? what you were up to? if you were okay? he was super protective and only wanted the best for his girls. “i missed you so much little one, tore my heart when i saw you crying when i left,” jude pouted before blowing raspberries in her neck and tummy, loud giggle taking over the room.

when jude had away games, he had to leave with his daughter clung into him, tears in her big brown eyes, repeatedly calling out for him as a sign to not go. it was always such a hard thing and he felt guilty leaving you with her in that state.

“did so good for mommy! that means i’ll buy you ice cream, new bows for your hair and a new toy,” he promises seeing her make an o shape with her mouth and looking at you in shock. the two of you copying her which made her squeal. “she is so big now,” jude said sadly, looking into his daughters eyes, ellie offering a toothy smile. “can you stay this tiny?”

you wrapped your hand around his bicep, kissing it before slowly rubbing away the food on ellie’s mouth, pushing her wet and already coated with products curls up. the night shower going to help her fall asleep, all through the night once again. ellie yawned, leaning her head on her daddies shoulder, tiny hand also coming up to lay beneath her her cheek.

jude rubbed his hand against her back, cooing her to sleep. he grabbed her milk and pouring into her disney princess themed bottle, also grabbing her binkie just incase. “you got it or want me to do it?” you ask him, also yawning due to how late it was. “i can do it, just wait for me in our room, i’ll be there soon,” he pecked your lips sealing the promise.

he walked into ellie’s room, turning on the air humidifier, and lamp in the corner of her room. changing her into a new diaper as she fought her sleep. jude sat on the rocking chair, ellie laying in his arms as he gave her the bottle and read a book quietly to her. it seemed like she wanted to stay up, but it was past her bedtime and she needed to sleep.

jude stood up after reading three books, rocking her gently and softly side to side, her binkie now in her mouth as she slowly fluttered her eyes to sleep. “you’re so beautiful ellie, i love you so much my sweet girl…” he sang and hummed the lullabies you sing to her when she was with you. kissing her cheeks and curls, once she finally fell asleep in his arms, grabbing the back of her head gently and placing her in the crib.

“shh, shh, shh, shh,” jude said softly, fixing her small pillow and covering her with a blanket, tucking her teddy bear next to her and the binkie as well. jude fixed the baby camera grabbing the charged screen and shutting the lights off. he put back the books and took the empty bottle with him as well. he closed the door to her room as quiet as possible, going downstairs to wash the bottle and coming back up immediately.

“i brought her a new one, just incase she does wake up at night,” jude said to you, placing the small bottle into the tiny fridge you had. “thank you handsome,” you spoke tiredly, wanting nothing more than to finally sleep. jude checked on ellie one more time through the baby monitor, seeing her sound asleep with her arms up.

“was she fussy?”

“nope not at all. she fought her sleep but that was all,” he said laying next to you, bringing yo to his side and kissing you deeply. “i want another baby,” jude pouted. you giggled, “i know you do… but i want to enjoy our time with ellie first, see her grow up and enjoy our time a bit before bringing another baby into our lives.”

“you’re such a good dad to her jude, she’s so lucky to have you, i’m so lucky to have you! but seeing you with our ellie it’s just so pure and a different love. you’re a natural, so loving, gentle, and you spoil her like crazy…” you whisper, making jude nervous and shy.

“a natural? really?”

“mhmm. it’s like you were made or were already ready for this dad life,” you nod kissing his jaw. “i love you y/n. i hope you know that making you my wife has been the most amazing decision ever. and make you a mommy as well,” jude teased, feeling the gently slap in his chest. “seriously, thank you for bringing and carrying my ellie to us…”

the next morning jude was up first, leaving a kiss on your head before grabbing the monitor and seeing ellie awake. jude smiled wide, making grabby hands at her when she grabbed onto the railings almost jumping in excitement. “good morning my sweet angel! how’d you sleep?” he kissed all over her face, pushing her coils back as she squealed loudly.

jude put the baby monitor to charge, walking downstairs to the kitchen and pouring her juice in a bottle. “let’s make you and mommy some breakfast okay?” jude said, still carrying her since she refused to be put down. he made coffee and cut up some fruit for ellie, siting her in her high chair.

he poured the coffee in the mugs, fixing the plate with eggs, fruit, utensils, syrup and small waffles in the breakfast stand. carding both his daughter and the food all the way upstairs. “go go go! go wake mommy up,” jude ushered, laughing at ellie crawling rapidly to you.

someone tugging on your hair woke you up, seeing your daughter clapping as she giggled. “hi good morning my silly ellie girl,” you kissed her head sitting up and rubbing your eyes. jude came to your side, rubbing your back with his hand and offering you coffee, “me and ellie made breakfast for you.”

“did you really? you helped daddy?” you praise her, ellie siting on your lap as you took a sip of coffee. jude say next to you, kissing you and whispering a good morning before feeding ellie some breakfast and her silly cup with juice.

“would exchange anything to spend my morning like this with my beautiful girls…”

[gallaghersgal]

i've been thinking sm about how lip wanted to be a dad so bad and how it would be soooo different if he had a girl who treated him right and was loyal and sweet

“emmie girl, are you excited to see daddy?”

your daughter squeals and babbles, “dad-dy!” her little hands waving in the air, one grasping onto your chin. you look around the commons, sighting a familiar head of messy curls and heading over to him.

“who’s that, hm?” you ask little emily, pointing out her daddy where he sits at a table outside the student center. as you get closer your daughter recognizes lip, squealing and squirming to be put down so she can run to him. you smile.

“go get ‘im emmie,” you murmur, pressing a quick kiss to the crown of her head before placing her steady little feet on the ground. she toddles over with adorable determination, shrieking in excitement until lip’s head is turning at the commotion. his jaw drops slightly and his eyes light up, flitting from his baby girl up to you, then back down.

"da- da-ddy!" emily stumbles on her path but lip catches her easily, lifting her up and spinning her around.

"what's up eminem! how's my girl, huh? didya miss me?" he smothers her little face with sweet kisses, listening to the sounds of her baby giggles. the two of them are so sweet, lip and his baby girl. he loves her so much. you know how much he misses his sweet emily- and you too- when he's away at school.

"look!" emily points with one pudgy finger at the bandaid on her knee. "kitty!"

"aw, y'scraped it sweets?" he asks, ever attentive. emily nods her head, grabbing onto his curls. "lemme kiss it better." he flips emily on her tummy, holding her secure and high above his head. he blows a raspberry on the squish of her knee, them smothers her with sugars.

"ducky ducky!" emily points at you, holding her little stuffed duck. it was a present from her daddy, and she never went anywhere without it.

"yeah? y'want ducky?"

you smile, coming to his side and placing ducky in her waiting hands. lip hikes emily up on his hip, kissing her, then ducky on the head. one strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in to press one final, sweet kiss to your temple.

"thank you baby. jus' what i needed, time with my girls.

end.

[astraysimp]

Seo Tiny

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'Seo Tiny'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

Hiiii bestiessss! I’m bring more dad!skz…this time it’s Binnie’s turn.

 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥSummary: baby Seo uses Binnie as her personal jungle gym ( i did that as a baby ngl)

 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ 빛나: Binna, your mini Binnie -8 months old

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀Warnings:  cavity inducing fluff, binnie and baby Seo, Binna is  called  Baby Bin, soft! Domestic Binnie, petnames, fem!reader

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡                            °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡                            ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

It was Sunday night–7 o’clock to be exact. That meant, dinner was eaten and everyone was in pajamas. Binna in her piggy onesie and you and Changbin in sweats. You were all relaxing in the living room ,winding down for the night….or so it seemed.

Changbin was on the floor, leaning against the couch. His stomach is full of dinner making him tired and nap ready. You were on the couch, legs seated in a way where Changbin could lean onto one, and Binna was crawling around near him, pacifier in her mouth. She had started to crawl about a month ago and dang….could she go. That’s what she was doing now, either crawling around or playing with her toys. All of a sudden, you heard her pacifier fall and giggles come out of her mouth. She was climbing over Changbin’s body, as he laid on the floor. Laughing, you looked down at her. “Baby bin, what are you doing, my precious girl?” All she could do was giggle some more before crawling over his legs. Changbin laughed, seeing the way Binna crawled over him. “What is my baby doing? Is appa your gym, huh?” He asked, as Binna crawled over his chest and her bum plopped on the floor.

It was a funny sight to see, your baby girl crawling over your husband’s body and plopping onto the other side. Binna seemed to be enjoying it though. Giggling, you leaned down to kiss the top of Changbin’s head. “She’s way too cute, hm, Binnie?” you smiled, patting his chest. “Oh definitely, honey. Look at her, those eyes and those cheeks.” he smiled, watching as Binna continued climbing over his body. “She got her cheeks and eyes from you, baby. She’s a copy and pasted version of you,” You smiled, hearing Binna giggle. Briefly stumbling, Binna giggled and climbed onto Changbin’s stomach area, only to giggle and slide off, her little bum plopping onto the other side. “Be careful, baby bug.” Changbin laughed out, his hand patting Binna on the bum. It was amazing how she wasn’t tired,yet. You were getting tired, ready for a nap. Slowly, you laid your head against Changbin’s, stifling a yawn back. 

Your yawn must have caught Binna’s attention, because she sat on Changbin’s chest and reached her chubby hands up to your face. Laughing, he held onto her to make sure she didn’t slide off of him. “What are you doing up there, little Bin? Giving mama kisses?” He smiled, blowing a raspberry on her tummy. Giggling, she smooshed your cheeks in her hands. “Hi, princess. Do I get a kiss?” You smiled, puckering your lips as she pressed her lips on yours.” Thank you, my sweet girl.Does appa get a kiss, too?” You smiled, as Changbin leaned his head up, wanting his own Baby Bin kiss. “Yah, appa wants kisses from his Binna,” he pouted, holding Binna tighter to his chest. Binna giggled and leaned down, pressing her lips to his. “Thank you, Binna bear.” He smiled, patting her back, feeling her stack to wriggle in his hold. Having enough cuddles, she sat on his stomach and started to his his chest. “What are you doing,baby bun?” He laughed, feeling her small fists hit against his pecs. Laughing, you watched on as Binna hit his chest. “Are you hurting appa, bunny? “ Pouting, he pulled Binna onto his chest, smothering her in kisses as she giggled.”Don’t hurt me baby bunny. Appa loves you so much.” All she could do was giggle and kick her chubby little legs. Then, Binna got restless, wanting to play more.

Soon enough, Binna wiggled out of his arms and continued to crawl over him. “Really….how is she not tired?” Changbin asked, leaning his head on your leg. “Don’t know, my love. She sure is having fun though.” You smiled, running a hand through his hair. He smiled and then took Binna into his hold again, lifting her into the air. “ Wah, Binna bear is flying!” You smiled, as she giggled, kicking her arms and legs. “Binna! You’re going so high up,bug!” You smiled, as Changbin lifted her a few more times. Although she was still giggling, she was getting tired. So, Changbin settled her down onto his chest, rubbing her back. Sliding onto the floor next to Changbin, you smiled cuddling into his side. “Seems like someone is all popped out for today,hm?” You smiled, seeing Binna clinging onto his shirt, her eyes starting to droop. “Sleepy, princess. Guess it’s time for bed, for this little one.” Changbin gently smiled, placing a pacifier back in her mouth. Nodding your head, you pressed a kiss to Binna’s head. “Bed time for Binna,” you smiled, caressing her cheek. Kissing her head, Changbin carefully got up from the floor, Binna still tight in his hold as he rocked her to sleep, making his way to her nursery. “Let’s get you to bed, little one,” he smiled down at her, as you followed behind them. 

Making your way into the nursery, he carefully set her in her crib, and placed a dwaekki plushie in her arms. “Sleep well, Binna bear.” You both bid her goodnight, before closing the door and going to your bedroom. Now, it was yours and Changbin’s turn to sleep, cuddled in each other’s arms.

*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*please don’t steal, copy/paste,claim,repost, or plagiarize my works*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.* AStraySImp2023*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ 💘 ✧.*

tag list| @jinnie-ret @straykeedz-recs @binsito @channiesbakery -open