#I don’t think you get to do that as a parent?

[yellowbrokenblue]

Harry joins you in the hot tub…

Your brother brought his best friend on vacation, and you find yourselves stuck in a rather steamy situation.

cw: smut, cheating, degradation, semi public sex, harry and reader being a horny mess

kofi

You had no idea how your brother had managed to coax your parents into paying for his best friend, Harry, to come on vacation with your family, but somehow it had happened.

And it was killing you.

Harry was the sort of guy you only saw in movies. A perfectly chiseled jawline, brown locks you wanted to tangle your fingers in, and pink lips with a permanent smirk on them.

And what was even worse was that you were kept up at night with thought of him with your own fingers in your pussy.

It almost made you forget about your boyfriend, Brandon, who had conveniently had to attend a friends birthday party instead of his own girlfriend’s family vacation.

Everyone had been asleep for hours, but you had no chance of sleeping while dirty thoughts of Niall’s best friend kept circulating your thoughts- so you quickly changed into your bikini and made your way to the hot tub for a late night dip.

The water wasn’t as soothing as you’d hoped it to be, and instead the heat of the water had made you even more horny. Resisting the urge to dip your fingers below your bikini bottoms was killing you right now.

“Seems I wasn’t only one who wanted a dip in the hot tub tonight.”

Your head snapped upwards. Everyone was supposed to be asleep, you weren’t supposed to be hearing any voices at this time of night.

Especially not his voice.

“Harry.” You breathed.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked.

He was wearing only his swimming trunks, leaving his beautiful, tattooed chest on full display.

You caught yourself staring at him, and snapped your eyes away.

You don’t remember the last time you took a breath. You’d been holding it in as he stepped into the hot tub and settled himself directly opposite you, not breaking eye contact the whole time he got in.

“Why’s Brandon not here, then?”

You looked at him, confusion on your features as you listened to Harry spit out Brandon’s name with distaste.

“He couldn’t make it.”

Harry shook his head, frowning, “He’s a fucking prick, Y/N.”

You shrug.

“Oh well. I’m glad he’s not here. It’s kinda nice it just being me and you.” Harry said again.

Your heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t you think?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You said quietly, “It is nice.”

You squeeze your thighs together. The effect Harry had on you right now simply by sitting opposite you without a shirt on was crazy.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Harry asked.

You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, and nod.

“I say we play a little game, hm? You seem tense, let’s lighten the mood.”

“Uhm, alright. What’s the game?”

Harry shrugged, “I get to answer any question, and you have to answer. Then you ask me a question, and I have to answer… And so on.”

You frown, “And what if I don’t want to answer?”

A smirk spread over his features.

“Then you gotta take an item of clothing off.”

A lump forms in your throat.

“We’re wearing swimsuits, Harry.” You said.

“I don’t have a problem as long as you don’t have a problem.” He said, “Do you? Do you have a problem?”

You shook your head.

“No problem.”

Harry grinned, “Good.” He said, “Let’s get started then, shall we?”

You nod.

God, he was so hot. Sitting there, staring at you with those eyes. You felt like you were going to sink to the bottom of the hot tub and never come back out.

“What’s your body count?” Harry asked.

You swallowed. You had expected the questions to make a sexual turn eventually, but not straight out on the first one.

“Three.” You said, not elaborating anymore.

“Now you ask me one.”

You thought for a second. If Harry wanted the questions to be about sex, you’d make them about sex.

“Where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?”

You noticed Harry smirk, and he wasted no time answering the question.

“A girl sucked me off in a movie theatre one time, but the weirdest place I’ve fucked someone? I dunno, like, janitors closet in high school?”

“Movie theatre? Like during the movie, or in the bathroom?”

“During the movie. There wasn’t many people watching the film to be fair, but the movie was on.”

“You’re insane.”

“I know.”

How you fucking wished it had been you sucking Harry’s dick in a movie theatre.

“Okay. My turn.” Harry said, “Why are you happy that Brandon didn’t come on vacation?”

“What?” You asked, “Of course I’m not happy. I’m upset about it!”

You frown at Harry.

“Either you tell the truth, Y/N, or you take an item off. Your choice, sweetheart.”

You think for a moment. Neither options are particularly good ones.

“Okay. Fine. I’m happy he’s not here. I just like… Needed a break from his constant complaining and constant need to create an argument.”

“That’s everything?”

You nod.

“My turn.” You said.

You pause.

Nothing comes to mind at all.

“I can’t think of one.” You say.

“Do you want me to just go again?”

It’s almost as if your heart had stopped beating- you were barely able to process the words that Harry was saying.

“Was it you that I heard touching yourself in your bedroom last night?”

Your cheeks go pink. You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

You swallow again, your heart racing.

“No answer?”

Harry smirks, sliding over to the other side of the hot tub, stopping in front of you.

“Sweetheart, you know the rules. If you don’t answer, that skimpy little bikini of yours has to come off.”

“I-”

You physically couldn’t get any words out of your mouth. Your thighs were pressed together as Harry stared hungrily at you.

He moved his hand closer and closer to the back of your neck where your bikini was tied, and in one swift movement, pulled the string of it, causing it to fall into the pool.

His eyes didn’t leave your breasts for what felt like forever. They were locked on your body, his eyes taking everything in.

“One point to me.” He said, “And I’m changing the fuckin’ rules. Only I get to ask questions now.”

You nod.

“Tell me who you were thinking of when you had your fingers in your own cunt last night, Y/N.” He said, his hands that had been placed on your hips moving closer to your panties, his fingers eventually dipping under the waistband, “Cause I sure as hell know it wasn’t Brandon.”

He spat out your boyfriend’s name like dirt on his shoe.

“Does he make you cum, Y/N? Does he make you cum with his tiny dick in your pussy? Does the make you feel good the way you know that I would make you feel good?”

Harry didn’t even wait for you to answer any of his questions. He ripped your panties down your legs, leaving you stark naked in the pool.

“Harry.” You say.

The pain between your legs was unmeasurable. You needed him so badly rignt now that it hurt.

“Tell me you want me, baby, and I’ll give you anything.”

“I want you, Harry.” You say.

“You can have me, babygirl. But first I want to see you touch yourself. Touch yourself the way I heard you last night.”

You wasted no time doing what he asked. The need to release the tension between your legs was so bad right now you’d do anything.

Your hand slipped between your legs and found your clit, rubbing fast circles, moaning out in pleasure.

“Dirty, dirty girl.” He said, “All this because you are so desperate to fuck me.”

“Please Harry. Please I need you.”

“That’s it, baby girl.” Harry said, palming his dick through his pants, “Beg for it. Beg for my cock, Y/N.”

You moan, your fingers still playing with your clit.

“Please Harry. Please give me your cock. I’m so desperate.”

He quickly changed the positions in you both were in, and had his shorts off his body and dangling over the edge of the tub in no time.

“That’s it.” He said, helping you straddle his lap, “You’re gonna take daddy’s cock like the pretty little whore you are.”

Daddy. You moan at his words.

He had hold of your hips, and you moaned as he pushed you onto his cock. Pushing his hips up so you took the whole length all at once.

“Such a tight cunt.” Harry groaned as his cock was pushed right inside of you.

You tried to grind against him, but he had hold of your hips so you couldn’t move.

“Stay still.” He instructed, “Play with those pretty tits and then I’ll let you move.”

You brought your hands to your breasts. You’d do anything for this man right now.

Harry moaned as he watched you push your tits together.

“Oh.” He moaned, “I’m gonna fuck those tits after this. Cum all over them.”

The feeling of his cock inside of you was already making you feral, but this was on another level.

“Please!” You say.

Harry seems to snap, and out of nowhere starts to move your hips, rocking you against him.

“Bounce for me.” He said. “Bounce on daddy’s cock.”

You moved your hips faster than you ever had before, moaning with each time you pushed your hips towards him, his cock filling you up more and more each time.

“Oh, Harry.”

Harry helps you moved faster and faster until you’re physically crying with how close you are to an orgasm.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” You cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a fucking tidal wave.

Your legs were trembling as Harry groaned, indicating he’d reached his own high, your body falling limp, resting against him.

“You’re never gonna fuck that Brandon loser again. You understand?” Harry said, through his own orgasm, “It’s my cock only from now on.”

[littlespoonevan]

your hand in my pocket to keep us both warm

post 8x08 because i'm SAD in a way that can only be eased with buddie hurt/comfort 💔 title from abstract (psychopomp) by hozier

-

Buck is the one to drive him to the airport because who else would it be?

It feels a lot like deja vu as he approaches the glass doors of Departures but his step only falters for a moment before Eddie’s hand is catching his sleeve at the elbow and leading him through them. It’s further than Abby ever let him get.

Eddie lets him go as far the security line and he almost looks regretful when he turns to face Buck.

Buck would like to think he’s handled this well so far. He’s been supportive, helped Eddie choose his new home, listened to his fears about his parents, reassured him about Christopher, promised to oversee the shipping of the rest of Eddie’s stuff next week. He’s done everything right.

It hasn’t made any of this feel less wrong.

They look at each other now, awkward in a way they never are, until Eddie drops his bag and pulls him into a hug without saying anything.

Maybe because there’s nothing to say. Buck’s heart has been lodged in his throat since he parked the car; he’s not even sure he could say anything if he wanted to.

Eddie’s arms around him are a familiar weight though so Buck allows himself to sink into them. To tuck his chin into the crook of Eddie’s shoulder and to fist his hands in the back of his jacket like if he holds on tight enough he might be able to convince Eddie to stay.

When Eddie does pull back he makes no attempt to leave the circle of Buck’s arms. Instead one of his hands goes to that same spot at the juncture of Buck’s neck – always the same spot – and when his thumb makes contact with the divot in Buck’s throat he seeks out Buck’s gaze.

“Hey,” he murmurs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Buck croaks, the tell-tale burn behind his eyes becoming more pronounced by the second.

“Like I’m Abby,” Eddie sighs. “Or Ali. Or Tommy. I’m not leaving you, Buck.”

Buck tries to laugh but it comes out too hysterical and Eddie’s hand tightens on his neck.

“I’m leaving,” he allows. “But I’m not leaving you.”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you,” Buck says, the words wobbling in the middle. His hands are still twisted in Eddie’s jacket.

“And you think I do?” Eddie asks with a half-laugh. “Who am I gonna talk to when my folks are driving me crazy? Who am I gonna talk to when I do anything? Besides, you think Chris will accept you not visiting at least once a month?”

Truthfully, Buck has no idea what Chris wants right now but he clings to Eddie’s words anyway.

“Everyone at work is gonna find me insufferable. It was bad enough that last time you weren’t there.”

Eddie laughs again, thumb brushing Buck’s neck seemingly absentmindedly. “No they won’t. And I’ll be on Facetime so much it’ll be like I never left.”

Buck ducks his head but nods anyway, gathering up the courage to say what he wants to say next. “I know you have to go,” he starts, steeling himself as he makes himself meet Eddie’s gaze. “But please don’t go forever.”

Eddie’s expression blanks, his mouth parting over nothing. Buck can only stare back, hoping that just this once it might be different. That he won’t get a, ‘Take care of yourself, Buck,’ and a hand to the cheek before the person in front of him disappears forever.

Eddie doesn’t touch his cheek. Instead he presses their foreheads together hard enough to hurt, hard enough to make Buck’s breath catch and rush out of him on a shaky exhale.

“I won’t. I promise,” Eddie breathes and his hand moves from Buck’s neck to the back of Buck’s head and Buck can’t help wondering for a moment what would happen if he closed the distance between them. If Eddie would kiss him back.

It’s not a thought he’s ever entertained before but he’s thinking it now and it feels…like it makes sense. Like an inevitability.

And what a time to have a realisation like that.

Eddie leans back then and Buck forces himself to unclench his hands, attempting to smooth out the back of Eddie’s jacket with trembling hands.

“You should go,” he says because Eddie won’t.

Eddie nods faintly in agreement and it looks like it takes every ounce of effort for him to take a step back. Buck picks up his bag for him, offers it to him, and tries for a weak smile so Eddie will know it’s okay. That he can go and Buck won’t cause a scene.

“I’ll call you as soon as I get to my parents place.”

Buck nods. “Give Chris a hug for me.”

“I will.”

Eddie starts looking towards the security line again and Buck blurts out, “Tell him I love him.”

Eddie looks back to him, a devastating smile of understanding on his face. “He knows already. But I will.”

Buck nods again and then there’s nothing left to say. Eddie turns to go and Buck does the same because he can’t watch until he’s out of sight. It hurts too much already and he can barely hold his tears back as it is.

He doesn’t need to watch himself get left behind again.

~

He’s just unlocking his car when his phone rings. He doesn’t check who it is as he climbs in, just shoves the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he reaches for his seatbelt.

“Keep me company while I wait for my flight?”

He straightens so quickly the phone almost falls into his lap but he catches it just in time. And he tries to laugh but he thinks it might come out more like a sob. “Keep me company on the drive home?”

“Always,” Eddie says like they’re driving home from work after a long shift.

Buck switches his phone to speaker mode and looks down at the keys in his hand, at the keys to the loft, Maddie’s place and Eddie’s house respectively, considering his options before turning on the ignition.

“So there’s the guy at the gate-“ Eddie starts and Buck lets the sound of his voice wash over him. Allows himself just one singular moment where he closes his eyes and holds his hand to his chest before he pulls himself together and drives out of his space.

Eddie is offering him a play by play of the guy at the gate who’s insisting his luggage is not chirping and Buck gets his breath back enough to make a quip about how that made it through the security scanner.

When he reaches the freeway it takes hardly any thought at all for him to take the exit that’ll get him to the Diaz house fastest.

He’s going home after all.

~

[demonic0angel]

Anger Management prompt where there is a car accident, except it's in space, between Team Phantom and The Outlaws.

(Lmaoooo this is so freaking funny bc my sister got into a car accident just a week ago. She’s fine tho, dw)

“Fuck you!” The teenager immediately screamed. “Where the hell did you learn to drive?! Go back to school, fucking dumbass! You can’t even drive, you piece of sh—”

He was then pulled back by one of his friends, who grabbed him and dragged him back to their normal looking, definitely not broken spacecraft. A girl, dressed in a very distinctive style of goth, then made an awkward face, popped her gum, and said, “Sorry about him. He has really bad road rage.”

Jason’s eye twitched. “I can see that. So what’re we going to do now? You crashed into our spacecraft!”

“Well, you don’t have spaceship insurance, do you?” The girl drawled.

Jason was suddenly reminded of why he hated Tim Drake and Damian Wayne. They were goddamn insufferable, obnoxious, annoying, irresponsible teenagers.

Jason suddenly felt like he aged 20 years in an instant and wondered if this was what Dick felt like, being so old.

Roy patted him on the arm. “Want me to take care of this?”

Jason gestured for him to go ahead, already feeling a headache. Roy walked forward and smiled charmingly. “Hey, kiddo! So, it’s not a big deal that we got bumped into— happens all the time! But we just want to know where your parents are! And why you’re out in space! And how we’re going to get back to earth, since our shipped is now wrecked. You know what earth is, right? Earth is—”

“We know what earth is,” the same cursing teenager from earlier said with a snide tone, “We live there too.”

Roy and Jason blinked.

Then Jason spat, “Well, that doesn’t do us shit! We still have a wrecked spacecraft and we’re stuck here on this moon until you fix it! Don’t think you can just fly away! We’re stranded because of you brats!”

Kori then appeared out of the spacecraft and flew down to them all. The kids all immediately stopped, eyes wide in awe. She smiled and said, “Hello, children! Is there anyway you can help us? You did wreck our spacecraft after all.”

Immediately, in the most respectful tone Jason had ever heard, the two-faced brat from earlier then said, “I’m so sorry, miss. We didn’t think that anyone would be exploring this part of space out here, so we weren’t looking! We’re sorry. We don’t have the tools to fix it either.”

Jason’s entire face suddenly wanted to break out into the nastiest glare he could muster. So not only did this kid blatantly show favoritism to Kori (even if she was definitely super cool), he also couldn’t help at all despite the fact that he completely stranded them in space after being careless with a spaceship?

Kori frowned and they all shared a look. Now what? Jason could feel the migraine get more annoying and he almost wanted to pull out his gun just to kill some kids and feel better about his shitty fucking day, when the other teen, who had pulled away the feral brat, spoke up and said, “We can call Jazz!”

“Oh yeah! Jazz! Quick, Sam, call her up!”

Roy narrowed his eyes. “Who’s Jazz?”

“My big sister,” the brat said, “She’ll fix this.”

Great. Another annoying person who would only make his headache worse and possibly piss him off even further. However, just as he finished thinking this and sharing another annoyed look with Roy, a green portal opened up and a goddess stepped down.

She was tall, with a curvaceous figure wrapped in black and blue robes, as well as a fluffy cape around her shoulders. Her hair fell down over her back, colored red like fire and sunsets and calla lilies, and her face was that of a statue, carefully designed, crafted, and admired by all. She was so beautiful and picturesque that the air around her seemed to glow like a halo.

Just looking at her made Jason’s sorrows disappear.

She blinked her fluttering eyelashes over her turquoise eyes and then asked, “What seems to be the problem?”

Her voice was so angelic that Jason didn’t even feel his headache anymore.

“Nothing now that you’re here,” Jason said dreamily.

“Oh my god,” Roy said, hand over his mouth as he stared at Jason in shock. Even Kori looked shocked and amused.

The boy with black hair shared a disgusted look with his friends. “I thought that would’ve been my line.”

[ronithesnail]

When i was like 15 i was outed as trans to my parents. This caused them take full control of my body and life for the next 4 years. Everyday my outfit was picked for me (an outfit that caused me incredible discomfort). They would force me to shave myself, or do it themselves. They took away my access to the internet, and consequently my friends, for a decent portion of that time. And all of these things had other indirect affects on my life too, like never being able to learn to drive or get a job before i became an adult because i was just too uncomfortable all the time that doing so wouldve been more trouble than it was worth.

And so all of this on top of the normal lack of control i had as a teenager drove me insane and made me incredibly depressed. I tried to express defiance wherever i could, but it often got in me in more trouble—lessons to shut the fuck up that i would just never learn because i needed the control so bad. I ended up developing an eating disorder and a habit of pulling allnighters for no reason, just to reclaim some control over my life. Even if it was hurting me, at least it was one thing i had for myself. (And these habits still affect me somewhat to this day even though i am no longer in that situation).

I don’t mean to hijack this post, but i think the loss of control that comes with being a queer kid, and especially a trans kid, who isn’t accepted is an aspect of the experience that isn’t articulated enough. Saying things like “my mom wouldn’t let me wear what i wanted to wear” make it sound stupid and trivial, but it really is a much bigger deal. Even if your not trans it’s a big deal. Its taking away more of what little control you have in your life. And if you are trans it becomes even more painful on top of that. Just the entire concept of trying to control who your kids are or how they present, the thesis of anti-queer child abuse, is just fundamentally harmful to any child, whether they are actually queer or not.

yesterday i was hiking with my dog and passed by a family with their 14 yo princess of darkness trotting behind them in very unsuitable clothes and uncomfortable shoes that clearly weren't meant to get dirty on forest mud. oh the quintessential teenage experience of doing something in a way that is stupid and sucks because it's important that it's your own way 🫡

[thedensworld]

Gentle Daddy | C. Sc

Pairing: Scoups x reader

Genre: fluff, parent au

Summary: welcome aboard to the threenager stage of Seungcheol's son and how he parents him.

Seungcheol was seventeen when he met Chan, the youngest of their group. Was Chan a little brother? Yes. But at the start? Not quite. To Seungcheol, Chan was just another kid, someone he had to look after out of duty rather than choice.

As the oldest in their group, Seungcheol often became the subject of jokes about his strict ways. “Everyone, if you don’t wake up on three, I’ll give you 10 more laps of running,” Seungkwan teased, mimicking Seungcheol's commanding tone from their training days, complete with a mock-serious expression that drew laughter.

“Seungcheol hyung definitely needs someone gentle to balance that out,” Chan piped up with a cheeky grin. But before he could finish, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow and asked, “Balance what?”

Chan swallowed nervously, waving his hand dismissively as the others burst into laughter. “No, no, I was talking to myself,” he stammered.

But now, Seungcheol stood in a different scene, holding his three-year-old son, Wontae, on his arm during his birthday party. The house was filled with chatter and laughter, the kind only close friends could bring.

“Your interior is beautiful, Seungcheol. Come over and do mine next,” Jeonghan quipped, throwing a casual compliment with a hint of a request. Seungcheol rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“Appa did my room too!” Wontae beamed proudly at Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s features softened as he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Your appa is very talented, isn’t he?”

Seungcheol discovered his passion for interior design when he was searching online for the perfect nursery layout for Wontae. But nothing he found could match the vision in his mind. After discussing it with you, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Trips to the hardware store turned into projects that filled his weekends: crafting custom cabinets, building desks, and designing coffee tables.

In preparation for the party, Seungcheol went all out—rearranging furniture, painting walls, and adding small decorative touches that showcased his new hobby.

“It’s almost as good as Mingyu’s house,” Jeonghan said with a mischievous smirk. Seungcheol chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I think taking care of others did that to me. Just like how Mingyu took care of everything for us back in the day.”

“I want to get down,” Wontae said, squirming in his father’s arms. Seungcheol gently set him down, watching with a smile as his son darted over to Wonwoo, who was showing him a video game on his phone.

“He’s going to be three, wow!” Jeonghan remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. “It feels like just yesterday when I first held him.”

“How is it like?” Jeonghan asked, a rare tone of seriousness in his voice.

Seungcheol sighed, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Go get married and have one yourself,” he said playfully.

“Jeonghan’s getting married?” Your voice chimed in as you returned from putting Wonna, your four-month-old daughter, to sleep. Both Seungcheol and Jeonghan turned toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes softened as he reached for your waist, pulling you gently into his side.

“Is she asleep?” he asked, concern blending with affection. You nodded, resting a hand on his chest.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jeonghan interjected, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“I feel really bad that you’re going through all of this right after giving birth, just for his birthday party,” Jeonghan joked, glancing around at the well-decorated room. The party was being held the day after Seungcheol’s birthday, even though Wontae’s actual birthday was next week.

“I told you, it’s for Wontae!” Seungcheol insisted, his tone defensive but playful.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Jeonghan, I gave birth four months ago. Besides, I’m grateful that Joshua and Mingyu helped with the food prep.” You nodded toward Joshua and Mingyu, who were now joined by Jihoon in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes and joking with each other.

Suddenly, a tiny voice interrupted the grown-up conversation. “Look what Uncle Hoshi got me! It’s a matching tiger onesie for me and Wonna!” Wontae announced proudly, holding up the tiny outfit with wide eyes full of excitement.

Seungcheol’s eyes flicked to Hoshi, who was now rolling on the floor, laughing at Wontae’s reaction. The older man couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head.

You smiled and turned to Seungcheol. “I’ll go help him with his present,” you said, squeezing his arm before walking over to your son.

Jeonghan, still standing beside Seungcheol, gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “You know, it’s great you married Y/N. I never thought I’d see the day when the legendary Seungcheol, the training tyrant, would become the poster child for gentle parenting.”

Seungcheol scoffed, turning to Jeonghan with a mock glare. “A monster? Really? You’re one to talk,” he protested, crossing his arms but unable to suppress the grin threatening to break through.

Jeonghan just laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. Besides, we all know you wouldn’t be half as patient if it weren’t for her.”

Seungcheol glanced across the room where you were now helping Wontae into the tiger onesie, a soft smile crossing his face. The room buzzed with laughter and warmth, the chaos of their little family perfectly imperfect.

*

Seungcheol woke up a bit late this morning, the warm glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. A soft smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of his family already gathered at the dining table for breakfast. The sound of Wontae’s cheerful voice filled the room when he spotted his dad entering.

“Appa!” Wontae called out with excitement, his tiny hands waving eagerly. Seungcheol walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Wontae’s head before his eyes found Wonna, cradled in your arms, contentedly finishing her second bottle of the day.

“Wonna Wonna~ did you sleep well, my princess?” Seungcheol cooed, his heart melting at the sight of his daughter’s chubby cheeks. Wonna wriggled in your embrace, her eyes lighting up as she recognized her father’s voice.

“You had breakfast, love?” Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to you, his tone laced with concern. You shook your head with a soft smile. “I was waiting for you.”

He grinned, taking Wonna gently from your arms. “I’ll play with Wonna for a bit. Go have your breakfast.”

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtful gesture, and sat down to enjoy breakfast with Wontae. After some quality playtime with Wonna and tucking her back into her crib for a nap, Seungcheol returned to the dining room. By then, Wontae had retreated to his bedroom, engrossed in the toys his uncles had gifted him.

“Wontae loves Mingyu’s gift,” Seungcheol said with a chuckle, recalling how his son had immediately fallen in love with the plush corgi toy Mingyu had brought him. It was amusing how Wontae adored anything Mingyu gave, no matter what it was.

You laughed as you finished your meal. “Of course he does. He’s your son, after all. It makes sense he’d have a special bond with Mingyu.”

Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the sound warm and genuine. “Thanks, love,” he said when you placed a steaming bowl of rice and soup in front of him.

“Is your head still dizzy?” you asked, sitting beside him to keep him company while he ate.

He sighed, a touch of guilt crossing his features. “Not as much, but I really need to cut down on my drinking.” A rueful smile followed. “I still don’t get how you don’t drink at all—not even a beer.”

You smiled, amused by his amazement. “The last time I drank was before I got pregnant with Wontae,” you reminded him. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as the memory came rushing back—it had been at Joshua’s birthday party.

“Right!” he said, letting out a soft chuckle at the recollection.

Before he could say more, Wontae’s voice rang out, echoing through the hallway. “Eomma! Come here!” He came running into the dining room, eyes sparkling with excitement as he tugged at your hand, eager for you to join him in his room.

“How about we stay here and keep Appa company while he finishes eating?” you suggested gently, but Wontae shook his head, determination written all over his little face.

“No! I want to show you my drawing!” he insisted, practically bouncing on his feet. “Uncle Chan gave me crayons, and there are so many colors! Even five different blues!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Seungcheol, your heart swelling at Wontae’s joy. “Alright, let’s see your masterpiece,” you said, getting up and giving Seungcheol a reassuring smile before following your son.

Five minutes later, you returned to the dining room, barely suppressing your laughter. Seungcheol had just finished eating and looked up, curiosity piqued by your expression.

“You should see what he’s done in there,” you said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did he do this time?”

“You need to see it for yourself,” you urged, playfully nudging him in the direction of Wontae’s room. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

With a grin, Seungcheol pushed back his chair, eager to see what kind of adventure awaited him in his son’s room.

Seungcheol opened Wontae's room and was greeted by the sight of his son enthusiastically coloring in his new book, using the crayons Chan had gifted him. The vibrant hues danced across the pages, a mix of scribbles and childlike shapes. Wontae’s eyes lit up when he noticed his father standing at the door. He bounded over, grabbing Seungcheol’s hand and pulling him toward his little art corner.

“Look, Appa! I drew a rock!” Wontae exclaimed, pride beaming from his small face.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed Wontae’s pointing finger until they landed on the wall. Oh my god. There, on the freshly painted surface, was a child’s drawing—a colorful depiction of what was presumably a rock, sketched in bold crayon strokes.

He froze, processing the situation. So this was why you had insisted he see it for himself. He could practically hear the smile in your voice when you said it.

“You drew on the wall?” he asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Wontae nodded innocently. “But Eomma said it’s better to draw on the coloring book, so now I draw here. But sometimes it gets boring, Appa!”

Seungcheol felt a wave of relief wash over him. So you caught him and told him to stop. Thank god.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to quell the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Remember, Seungcheol, they don’t know better. They don’t understand how much work it is to paint a wall.

“Yes, your eomma is right. Drawing on your coloring book is best.” He sat down on the floor beside Wontae, the urge to scold replaced by the desire to guide. “Show me more of your drawings here.”

Wontae beamed at the invitation, plopping down next to his father and eagerly flipping through the pages of his coloring book. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son’s eyes sparkle with excitement, oblivious to any worry or consequence.

Every time Seungcheol’s eyes strayed to the drawing on the wall, a chuckle escaped his lips. It was ridiculous! He wanted to be mad, really mad, but he just couldn’t muster it. “You know you shouldn’t draw on the wall, right?” he asked his son, carefully suppressing the instinct to say, “I just painted that! Why did you draw on it?!” in a booming voice that would only frighten the boy. He took a deep breath, holding back the frustration that threatened to spill out.

Wontae looked up at his father’s face, his eyes wide with curiosity as he noticed something unusual. “Why is your face red, Appa?” he asked, putting down his crayon and reaching up with his tiny hands to cup Seungcheol’s flushed cheeks. Seungcheol let out another soft chuckle, his anger melting further.

“You know Appa loves this house, right?” Seungcheol said, his tone remaining gentle and warm.

Wontae nodded, his little head bobbing earnestly.

“No one in this house draws on the walls because Appa worked hard to keep them nice and clean,” Seungcheol explained, still smiling softly despite the chaos inside him.

Wontae bit his lip, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. “Are you mad at me for drawing on the wall?” His voice trembled as he spoke, and Seungcheol’s heart lurched. Panic surged through him—he was the one who felt like crying, not his son!

“I didn’t say I’m mad at you,” Seungcheol said quickly.

“But your face says it…” Wontae mumbled, the quiver in his voice growing more pronounced.

Oh no. Shit.

“Eommaaaa!” Wontae suddenly burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes darted to the doorway where you were standing, suppressing a smile as you scooped up your tearful son into your arms.

“Why? What happened?” you asked Wontae in a whisper, stroking his back to soothe him.

“Your father wasn’t mad at you, was he?” you asked softly, glancing over at Seungcheol with a knowing smile. “Did he shout at you?” Wontae shook his head, hiccupping as he clung to your shoulder.

“No,” Wontae admitted, his sobs quieting as you continued to comfort him.

“He was just talking to you,” you reassured him, casting Seungcheol a gentle, supportive look.

Seungcheol groaned internally, a mix of confusion and self-reproach. He thought he’d nailed it—the gentle parenting that you both had worked so hard to practice. Yet here was his son, still able to sense the tension in his expression, and hurt by it despite the lack of yelling or scolding.

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “We’re on this stage now,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “What stage?”

“The threenager stage,” Seungcheol said, his tone carrying both exasperation and amusement. “I read about it somewhere. It’s when kids start acting like teenagers—rebelling, pushing boundaries, testing their parents’ patience. Wontae’s only three, but he already knows how to push all my buttons.”

You laughed softly, shifting Wontae in your arms as his sniffles subsided. “It’s not rebellion, Seungcheol. It’s curiosity. He’s learning, exploring his emotions, and figuring out how far he can go.”

“Exploring his emotions by drawing on my freshly painted wall?” Seungcheol deadpanned, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t truly upset anymore—not when Wontae was looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Exactly,” you teased, setting Wontae back down on the floor. “It’s frustrating, but it’s normal. And you handled it really well, by the way.”

Seungcheol tilted his head, raising a skeptical brow. “I did?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, giving him an encouraging smile. “You didn’t yell or scare him. You explained things calmly. That’s the kind of parenting that sticks with them, Seungcheol. He’ll remember this.”

Seungcheol glanced at Wontae, who had returned to his coloring book but kept sneaking shy glances at his father. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, mingled with pride and relief. I can do this, he thought. Even when it’s tough, I can do this.

“Okay, buddy,” Seungcheol said, crouching down to Wontae’s level. “Let’s make a deal. No more drawing on the walls, okay? If you want to draw something big, we’ll find some paper or maybe a special board just for you. How does that sound?”

Wontae’s face lit up at the idea. “A special board? Really?”

“Really,” Seungcheol promised, ruffling his son’s hair. “But only if you promise no more wall art.”

“I promise, Appa!” Wontae beamed, holding up his pinky. Seungcheol chuckled and locked his pinky with his son’s, sealing the deal.

You watched the exchange with a fond smile, stepping closer to place a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “See? You’re doing great.”

Seungcheol exhaled deeply, his smile widening. “Thanks, love. I guess I just need to remember to breathe. And to hide all the crayons.”

You both laughed softly, and for a moment, the chaos felt a little more manageable.

*

"One… Two… Three…" Seungcheol’s voice was steady as he counted while Chan, drenched in sweat, gritted his teeth to finish his push-up set. His arms trembled, and his face was etched with exhaustion, but he pushed through, determined to complete the punishment.

The door to the practice room swung open, and the rest of the group filed in, their faces a mix of confusion and amusement as they took in the scene. Seungcheol stood towering over Chan, arms crossed, while the youngest member struggled through the exercise. It was a far cry from what anyone had expected when they read Seungcheol's early-morning text asking Chan to come to the practice room an hour ahead of schedule.

"What’s going on here?" Joshua asked, barely hiding his amusement as he watched Chan squirm on the floor.

"Ten!" Seungcheol finished his count, clapping his hands in exaggerated applause. He smirked as Chan collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent. "That’s ten sets done—one hundred push-ups. Congratulations, Chan. That’s what you get for giving my son those crayons."

Chan’s pout was instant. "It’s not fair! It’s your son who drew on the wall. Why am I the one getting punished?" His voice was full of indignation, though it lacked the energy to be truly effective.

Mingyu burst into laughter, doubling over as realization dawned. "Wait, wait—Wontae drew all over the wall with the crayons Chan gave him? That’s hilarious!" He clutched his sides, nearly toppling over from laughing so hard.

Jeonghan, leaning casually against the doorframe, nodded in mock agreement. "Honestly, it makes sense. Seungcheol’s a gentle appa with Wontae—there’s no way he’d punish his precious son for something like this." He shot Chan a teasing grin. "But you? Yeah, I’d do the same if I were Seungcheol."

Chan groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "This is so unfair!" he whined, his voice muffled. "I’m the innocent one here! Gentle appa is a fraud—he’s evil!"

Seungcheol couldn’t hold back his chuckle as he crouched down to look at Chan. "Gentle appa does exist," he said with a smirk, "but only for Wontae. You and your crayons? You’re a different story."

"See?" Jeonghan said, straightening up. "I told you. Seungcheol’s priorities are clear."

Chan sat up, still sulking. "Unfair. So unfair." He shot a glance at the others, hoping for sympathy, but all he got were amused grins and stifled laughter.

"Hey," Joshua added, chuckling softly, "at least now you know not to mess with Wontae’s creative genius—or his dad’s freshly painted walls."

Mingyu clapped Chan on the back, nearly knocking him over again. "Think of it as a lesson in self-sacrifice. You helped foster Wontae’s artistic side. That’s a win, right?"

Chan groaned louder, flopping onto the floor in defeat, while Seungcheol leaned against the wall with a triumphant grin. "Alright, everyone. Lesson’s over. Let’s get to practice before he starts crying for real."

"So unfair!"

[rafedarling]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

request: open

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: new parents and beloved hollywood couple drew and you take to the jimmy kimmel live stage to discuss your latest movie project together, which releases in may. between balancing new parenthood and demanding film schedules, you two finds yourself sharing a funny, heartfelt stories about life on set with their baby girl, emma starkey. a viral behind-the-scenes video brings laughter to the show, as you discuss how parenting has influenced your lives and careers. based on today drew interview on jimmy kimmel live interview.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humorous parenting moments, discussions of balancing work and family life.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy

gif: rafedarling

“Ladies and gentlemen, our next guests are not only Hollywood’s favorite power couple but also the stars of the highly anticipated romantic-action film Against All Odds, which hits theaters this May. And if that’s not enough, they’ve recently stepped into the chaotic world of parenthood with their baby girl, Emma. Please welcome Drew Starkey and Y/N!”

You can hear the audience roared with applause as Jimmy Kimmel welcomed his next guests.

You and Drew walked out hand in hand, smiling and waving to the audience. Drew’s free hand rested on your back as he guided you to the guest couch. The applause was deafening, with some cheers and whistles peppered in. You laughed as Jimmy gestured to quiet the audience.

“Wow,” Jimmy said, shaking his head.

“You guys have the crowd in a frenzy. I mean, Hollywood’s hottest couple and now officially parents? Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at the crowd. “It’s been a crazy year.”

“Yeah,” Drew chimed in, “between the movie and the baby, I’m not even sure what sleep feels like anymore.”

The audience laughed, and Jimmy leaned forward.

“Okay, we have to start with the most important question: How’s parenthood treating you? You’ve got a baby girl, Emma. How’s life with a newborn?”

Drew chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s… humbling, to say the least. Being a first-time parent is no joke. I don’t think I could survive it without this one,” he said, nodding toward you.

You playfully nudged him. “Oh, stop it. You’re doing great.”

Jimmy smiled. “Okay, Y/N, your turn. How’s life as a mom?”

“It’s amazing,” you said, your voice softening.

“I mean, it’s exhausting, but Emma’s such a sweet baby. Watching her grow and discover the world makes all the sleepless nights worth it.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Sleepless nights? Drew, are you pulling your weight with those 3 a.m. feedings and diaper changes?”

Drew grinned, holding up his hands defensively.

“Absolutely. I’ve mastered the art of the one-handed diaper change. My record is forty-three seconds.”

The audience erupted in laughter, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s not lying. But let’s not forget the time you forgot to put the diaper on at all.”

The crowd gasped with laughter as Drew shook his head, groaning.

“Okay, in my defense, I was running on two hours of sleep. And the burp cloth worked just fine… temporarily.”

Jimmy laughed, slapping the desk. “You’re officially a dad now, Drew. Forgetting a diaper is like a rite of passage.”

Drew nodded solemnly. “It’s a learning curve.”

Jimmy turned his attention back to you. “Now, let’s talk about Against All Odds. The trailer has everyone excited. What can you tell us about the movie?”

You leaned forward slightly.

“It’s a romantic-action film about two rival spies played by Drew and me who are forced to work together on a mission to stop a global threat. Of course, things get complicated when they realize they have a shared past.”

“Ah, a little romance, a little action,” Jimmy said. “And a lot of explosions, I’m guessing?”

“Definitely,” Drew said.

“The stunts in this film are insane. We’ve got car chases, hand-to-hand combat, and this one sequence where Y/N literally jumps out of a helicopter.”

The audience gasped, and Jimmy’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, wait. You’re telling me Y/N did her own stunts?”

You shrugged with a smile. “Most of them, yeah. The helicopter scene was terrifying, but the adrenaline rush was worth it.”

Jimmy turned to Drew. “And how did you feel about your wife jumping out of a helicopter while pregnant?”

“Oh, that scene was filmed before we knew about Emma,” Drew said quickly.

“But I still worried about her constantly. Every time she’d do a stunt, I’d be off to the side like, ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’”

You laughed. “He was basically my personal cheerleader-slash-bodyguard.”

Jimmy shook his head, smiling. “And Y/N, how was filming while pregnant? Did the crew make accommodations for you?”

“They were amazing,” you said.

“They adjusted the schedule so that I could rest when I needed to, and they made sure I always had plenty of snacks on set.”

“Snacks were essential,” Drew added. “She had a bag of trail mix with her at all times.”

Jimmy laughed. “It sounds like the two of you had a lot going on behind the scenes. Speaking of which, I have to ask about the viral video. You know the one.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Drew laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh no. You’re not really going to show it, are you?”

“Of course I am!” Jimmy said, grinning.

“For anyone who hasn’t seen it, this is a behind-the-scenes video of Drew and Y/N on set. Drew’s building a baby crib, and Y/N is… well, just watch.”

The screen infront and behind you lit up with the video. The audience howled as they watched Drew hammering away at a crib while you sat on a couch with a breast pump. The rhythmic “whirr, whirr” of the pump provided the perfect comedic soundtrack as Drew worked intently. At one point, you casually scrolled through your phone, looking completely unbothered.

When the video ended, the audience erupted into cheers and laughter. Jimmy was wiping tears from his eyes.

“So my question is… is this what you do on set?”

“Well,” Drew said, still chuckling, “Emma needed a crib, and we didn’t have one on set. So, naturally, I decided to build one during a break.”

“And I,” you added with a grin, “was taking care of my part of the parenting duties. Multitasking at its finest.”

Jimmy shook his head, laughing.

“You two are the epitome of modern parenthood. Drew, do you moonlight as a carpenter now?”

Drew smirked. “Not yet, but give me a few more months of parenting, and I’ll be building treehouses.”

The audience laughed again, and Jimmy leaned back in his chair.

“Okay, last question: How do you balance it all? Filming, parenting, being a couple; what’s the secret?”

You exchanged a glance with Drew before answering.

“Honestly, communication is everything. We make sure to check in with each other and divide responsibilities as evenly as possible.”

“And coffee,” Drew added. “Lots of coffee.”

Jimmy nodded sagely. “Coffee and communication. Words to live by.”

The interview wrapped up with more laughs, and even a clip from Against All Odds. As the applause filled the studio, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the life you and Drew had built on and off the screen. together.

[footygirl114]

Entrenadora (Alexia Putellas X Reader)

It has been absolutely forever since I have written anything, but this idea came to me and has been stuck ever since. I have more ideas for where this could go but would like to see if this idea is even interesting first. Please let me know what we think, as I fear I am washed up and my stories suck

Crouched down on the sideline, all you could do is watch as the #10 on your team cuts back across the top of the 18 shaking the defender and curls the ball into the top corner. You jumped up and could feel the bench behind you also jumping up and you watch on as the girls on the field surround the goal scorer as they celebrate. 

the feeling of your assistant coach slapping you on the back and say in“You were right the girls practicing the cutbacks paid off!” brings you back to the game at the moment. 

You smile and see the bench settle behind you and turn back to watch your team run back to get set for the kick off and you clap and yell out “come on girls, stay solid for 3 more mins, we got this!” 

The next few minutes pass by slowly, as you pace the sidelines occasionally yelling out instructions, but when the final whistle goes you can feel the relief settle in. You watch as the bench runs out on to the field and surround their goalie celebrating the semi final victory. You follow the team out and work your way through congratulating your players, but when your #10 who also happens to be your 10 year old niece wraps you in big hug you smile extra big. 

“That was a sweet goal Cami!” you tell her as she pulls back form you. 

“You taught me how to do that Tia!” she smiles up at you, and you cant help to pinch her cheek and she squeals and turns to celebrate with her teammates. 

You walk back towards the bench, after shaking the other teams coaches hands, and you start packing up your stuff and make sure the girls haven’t left anything lying about. You turn to get the girls to start cool downs, and you notice that your assistant coach has already got the team cooling down. 

Using the moment to stand there and think back on what you need to do for the afternoon prior to the final later in the evening. You fail to notice your brother come up behind you and squeeze your shoulders. 

You jump and turn to see him standing there and you whack him on the shoulder and say “you’re an ass.” 

He smirks and says “congrats on the win coach!” 

“Good thing you brought me in, you never would have got them to a final” you tease him with  smile. 

He chuckles and says “ouch, I wanted to coach but no parents were allowed.” 

“thank god you have such an awesome sister then” you smirk at him and move to gather your stuff as the team comes over to get their bags and move off the field. 

You cant help but smile at your big brother and your niece talking about the game as you follow them across the field. You follow them to your cars, and plans are made for the 3 hour window the team has before the final, to get the girls fed. You take a second to look at the schedule and see the other semi final is being played now and you decide to go and watch and scout the teams. 

You make your way towards the field the game is being played on and you find an empty spot towards a corner flag to stand in and watch. You are lost in the game that you don’t notice someone else coming to stand near you, and when you say something out loud about how stupid of a play that was you do not expect to hear a response. 

“si, I agree, would have been better to play the ball to the wing” the voice beside you says. 

You turn and see a stunning women, clad in Barcelona shorts and a half zip with a black ball cap on. It takes you a second but you finally respond with “or the ball should have been cycled back and not forced into a play.” 

“The centre back has a good range, she could have made a better attack” she says to you. 

The two of you go back and forth for the next few minutes before a goal is scored the way you both were just describing. You both laugh and you say to her “seems we both had a good grasp on the game.” 

“si, its refreshing to talk to someone who sees the game as a whole” she smiles at you. Before you can say anything else she asks “did you see that pass?”

“it was a waste of an opportunity” you reply back. It starts your conversation back up and you continue to discuss the tactics of the game in front of you. It lasts for the rest of the game, when your phone rings and its your brother calling and you turn to her and say “excuse me, I need to take this.” 

“I should go anyway, I enjoyed talking with you!” she says with a wink and she turns and moves away. 

You watch for a moment and walk the other way answering the phone to your brother, and you cant help but think that you would like to be able to talk to her again. When the time comes for your team to warm up, you completely forget about the conversation you had with the cute woman, and you focus fully on the game. 

When your team comes out the victors and after the celebrating dies down and you are standing in line waiting for the medal ceremony do you see her again. She is standing behind the convenor of the tournament with 2 other women dressed in the same outfit she’s wearing. You hear the convenor making a speech about the tournament and then introduces the 3 Barcelona Women players that are there to present the medals does it click who she is. 

You can feel the heat to your cheeks as you remember how you just spoke tactics with one of the best players in the world. You have to follow the team through the motions of getting the medals and you can barley look her in the eye as she places medal over your head. Luckily team pictures take priority and getting the team squared away takes up your team before you can continue to overthink it. 

When the madness dies down and a few people are left straggling around you find your self alone on the field. You are not alone for long when she steps up beside you and says “congratulations coach.”

You turn to her and say “Gracias, but my name is Y/N” as you turn to hold your hand out to her.

“Alexia” she says and shakes your hand with a smile. 

You try to ignore the tingling up your arm as she shakes it and you ask “Why didn’t you tell me who I was talking to earlier?”

She shrugged and says “does it matter? I enjoyed the tactics talk with someone who has the same view of the game as me.” 

“I mean I could have at least rolled out the red carpet, or maybe gone and watched some game play footage of how you move on the field” you chuckle back to her.

She smiles and says “Oh you would have watched me?” 

You shrug and say “for purely tactical reasons only.” 

She laughs out loud at that and says “can I take you for a drink to pick your brain about how my body moves?” 

“thats tempting for purely tactical reasons, but I promised my niece I would come celebrate the teams win with her tonight” You softly smile at her. 

She places her hand on your arm and smiles “you coach your nieces team here?” 

“si I do.” 

“thats very sweet of you” she squeezes your arm and continues “can we take a rain check?”

Nodding you move back a few steps to dig into your bag for your clipboard, and you write your number down and rip a piece off to hand to her and you say “call me for a rain check Alexia.” 

She smiles with a chuckle and says “I see what you did there, but I will be calling you for purely tactical reasons.” 

“I should go catch up with my niece.”

“you should” and she moves closer to you and press a kiss to your cheek and says “You’ll be hearing from me.” 

You watch as she jogs away to her other team mates and you move to meet your brother and niece in the parking lot. Your brother sees you coming and asks “what took you so long?” 

“Nothing, I was just taking it all in” you tell him with a smile. 

“mhm the blush on your cheek says otherwise baby sister.” he teases you and before you can swat at him he moves out of the way and says “now come on Cami is waiting for us.” 

***

The following morning as you are walking into your first class of the day you feel your watch buzz with a new message, you see it was an incoming message and you glance down quickly to notice it was an unknown number. Before you can read it you are at the door of your class room and you walk in and place your stuff down at the front podium. Looking up as you are connecting your laptop the lecture hall is about 3/4 full with 2 minutes to class to start. 

As your laptop boots up you can help but check your messages and you immediately can feel the smile and blush work the way up your cheeks. 

Unknown: Figured Id let you get a head start on the purely tactical reasons to watch me, and send you a link to the last goal I scored, I wont tell anyone if you watch it back a few times. But I would like to hear all about how my body moves from your perspective over dinner? 

Unknown: Also Hi, from the cute footballer you gave your number to, who would also like to be able to study how you move, again for purely tactical reasons ;)

[seasprincess]

JJ fic. I'm thinking sweet smut. Like almost goofy because that's just who he is, rarely super serious. And he and reader just know each other so well that things can be goofy, even during sex and neither of them care. Unprotected (if you're good with that). Then maybe reader finds out she's pregnant. Worried to tell JJ. But he's so thrilled.

bf!jj

a/n: I loveeed this ask

warnings: smut, pregnancy, unprotected s3x (wrap it pookies), brain rot.

“Have you got a condom?” As soon as the words leave your mouth the blonde, that’s on top of you, head pops up. He looks at you slightly confused. His hands stoping the rubbing against your lacy panties.

“I thought you were bringing them?” JJ says, his blue eyes looking into yours as he suddenly remembers.

He was supposed to bring them.

“Fuck sake.” He sighs as he runs his head, this isn’t the first time he’s had to run out and buy them during this intimate moments. He just a forgetful guy.

“Fuck it.” You say, not even thinking about it twice. You need this. He’s been touching you for too long. “You’ve been edging me f-“

“Edging.” He cuts off with a little snort and a smile. He’s so unserious it’s insane.

“Stop.”

“Sorry.”

You look up at him and lean up, pressing your soft lips against his. Slowly his slips his tongue into your mouth as his hands continue to touch, rub and caress you. He’s being soft today.

But the way he’s fiddling with the zipper of his jeans is not soft nor slow. Of course it gets stuck, and he’s just there trying to rip it open. Trying to unjam it with some huffs and puffs.

While he’s doing that you’re pulling down your panties, the fold air against your core making you flinch a bit. Before you lay back down and he lays back on top of you.

“Are you sure?” He asks as he looks at you. This isn’t the first time you’ve done it without protection but every time he checks. Make sure you’re certain.

“Yes.” You say with a nod of your head. You just can’t wait any longer.

Slowly JJ enters your cunt, your tight walls sucking him in as you let at a moan. JJ jokes about his size to everyone. Saying how big he is. But they weren’t jokes.

“Fuck mama. So tight.” He says before placing a kiss on your neck. His thrusts picking up. His hand coming to your neck, not to choke you. But to make it easier to pick up his speed. “Such a good girl.”

Your walls clench around him as your eyes screw shut. Whimpers filling the space of your bedroom.

“Please don’t stop.” You breathe out as you instinctively grab onto the duvet, knuckles turning white as you look at him. His stupid face smirking down at you before reattaching to your neck.

His face practically lives there now. Hes always kissing and sucking on your neck.

JJ’s free hand slips between your legs and starts rubbing. Rubbing that sensitive bud of yours. His cock twitching inside your pussy.

It doesn’t take long for both you and JJ to cum. His thrust slowing down as he looks at you.

Both of you panting before the blonde just has to open his stupid mouth.

“That was so skibidi.”

“Oh my god.”

You can’t believe it.

‘This can’t be real.’ You think to yourself as you look at those two lines. The two lines that can either be a blessing or a curse.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sat on the bath mat of your bathroom. I mean you can’t have a baby. Can you? You’re only eighteen living at your parents house dating a guy who only recently learnt the difference between there, their and they’re.

You can’t be parents.

You just can’t.

“Baby I’m here to hang.” The sound interrupts your thoughts. the very guy you were just thinking about. Knocking a tune on your bathroom door.

You sniff and dry your eyes, trying to get rid of any sign that you were crying.

But JJ heard everything.

“Hey, yn? You okay?” His concern is evident in his tone. He cares about you more than you’d ever know.

The bathroom door slowly opens and your eyes meet the blondes. Slowly making his way to you, crouching down and placing his hands on your knees. You’re silent. You can’t speak. Don’t know what to say if you were to open your mouth.

So you just hold the test.

JJ’s eyes follow your gaze to the test. His breath catching in the back of his throat.

You want to know how he feels, is he angry? Upset? Disappointed?

Actually he’s none of them.

“I’m going to be a dad?” He says excitedly. Immediately you look at him. Shocked by this response. He’s happy?

“Yeah.” You say quietly.

“I’m going to be a dad!” He says louder and takes off his hat before standing up. Pacing the bathroom and smiling. Yapping about all the things he’s going to do. How excited he is to have a child.

You should’ve never been worried. You’re going to be parents.

[melioraskz]

Rather be your whore than a noble man’s wife.

A/N : I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately… this wasn’t based on anything in particular and is definitely not historically accurate, this is just another universe LOL!

Warning : brief mention of SA, mentions of whores, homophobia (not by any of the characters, just mentioned in a backstory!), giving head (female receiving), tiny hint of overstimulation, almost caught in the act, probably forgot something lol ! NOT PROOFREAD !!!

(Pirate) Han Jisung x (afab) Reader

Summary : After being captured by a gang of bandits you get saved by a mysterious man called Jisung, what you don’t know is that he is in fact something your parents always warned you for, a pirate.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

“Stay away from me!”

“Wow wow wow little lady, relax. I’m not going to harm you” the man in front of you said with his hands up in the air in surrender despite the small yet devilishly sharp knife still laid between his thumb and index finger.

“Do you want my help or not?” He asked, raising a brow as he looked at you up and down.

“I’ve got everything under control, thank you very much” you spat back, sighing deeply as you try to once again squirm out of the tight robe that was around your body and hands.

Everything was in fact not under control. There you were, bound to the pole, hands tied behind your back and hair stuck to your face with the sweat from your forehead, breathing heavy with your dress half cut up by the bandits who took you capture. Despite their desperate tries you had manage to keep them away from you enough for them to not take it further than some disgusting groping and touched here and there. However despite your deadly looks you shot their way it couldn’t take away the looks of desire they shot in your direction as another one tried to cut off a button of your blouse…

The aggravating man who had jumped on board of the ship all cocky started to whistle as he sat up on the edge of the boat, carelessly taking the knife and removed some dirt under his finger nails. “Just let me know when you need my help, missy” he sung, acting all nonchalantly as if he wasn’t also on a bandit ship, all alone against the 30 men that could show up any second. Not that you had any hope that he would survive one of the men for that matter. They were all buff, scary with scars everywhere, you could tell they were up to no good. This guy? He was skinny, lanky built, curly brown hair and despite his aura feeling like he would be a big man… he was quite a short guy.

“Fine, just get me out of here before they come back” you mutter, the guy looking up at you, stopping mid-through the melody he was whistling. Then he shook his head and his lips left a few of tsk tsk tsk to show his displeasure. “What sort of lady are you? Not even a simple please? I’ve met whores down at the red district with more charm and politeness than you” he stated and rose a brow. That awful awful cockiness would drive you mad but you were desperate.

“Please can you help me out of these fucking ropes? I’m not planning on becoming these bandits slave or sex toy” you state, earning a pleased smirk by the mysterious guy who by ease jumped down from the edge and walked up to you. He then easily cut off the rope using the knife before he put it back into the holder in his belt.

“There we go, now I suggest we leave before those idiots come back” he says, a smug smile on his lips. Within a second you had stepped away from the damn pole, singing deeply as you rubbed your previously tied up wrists with your hands to ease the irritation that the rope had caused. “Thanks” you sigh, walking over to the edge and looked out at the dock, multiple ships stood there and you could hear the muffled sounds of parties and people if you looked out to the town ahead of you… “where even are we?” You sigh, not sure where they had taken you, surely from the accent of the man it was far away from your home…

“Welcome to Incheon city, ma’am! The place filled with dreams, nightmares, whores, pirates and a great amount of cheap alcohol” the man burst out, now somehow standing on the edge walking around as if it wasn’t a 10 meter drop down to the ice cold water below. “Oh fuck! I’m Jisung, by the way, Han Jisung” he added. “It’s nice to meet you, what’s your name?” He asked proudly.

You were about to answer when you heard a voice behind you.

“She has escaped!” A roaring man’s voice yelled as he had climbed up the ladder on the other side. You remembered that man very well, after all he had tried to fuck you at least seven times since your capture a few days ago. Along with him came 4 others, you look back at Jisung with panicked eyes, but you were met by a pair of awfully calm ones. He let out a sigh in displeasure, almost as if he thought the whole ordeal were just bothersome.

“Alright boys, let’s say after me” Jisung started, grabbing one of the robes that the bandits used to climb up to the watch tower. “If you are despite to get a quick fuck, go to a whore house, not kidnap someone” he then continued, cutting the rope off with the knife he had previously used on the ropes that had you tied up. Then before the men could reach you he swung in the rope, using his legs and made 2 of the men fall to the ground in a loud groan. That’s when he grabbed both of the men’s revolvers, tossing one of them to you, which you catch in pure panic. Looking at the man, he easily got all men on the floor, despise them being twice his weight. “Close those pretty eyes for me, pretty lady” Jisung instructed, as if it was an instinct you did exactly like he said and as soon as your eyelids had fallen down so all you saw was darkness the ship echoed with a shot, another another, another and-

“All done, missy” a voice said, opening your eyes you saw the men’s lifeless bodies on the wooden floor, blood painting the deck that poured out of their head. It wasn’t the first time you had ever encountered a dead body before but it was certainly the first time seeing so much blood at the same time, despite being outside you swore you could smell the stench of iron in the red dark liquid ahead of you. Jisung however didn’t give you the luxury to take in the scene for more than a few second, he had other plans. He grabbed the rope he had used before and swung in it, grabbing your waist as you let out a screech, holding onto him with all dear might. You were certain you’d fall straight into the ice cold water below but before you could think twice you felt your feet hit a steady familiar sensation. You open your eyes you had no clue that you even closed in the first place and there you were, still holding onto the man with all your might but standing on the ground below…

“We should leave before more men come back and notice the tiny little mess I caused on their ship” he stated, you realise how damn close he was to your body… your heart beating fast in your chest, perhaps it was the adrenaline of being rescued or seeing the dead bodies that flooded through you, perhaps it was for the fact that this bold man had laid his hands on you and it wasn’t for the wrong intentions, at least that’s what you thought it was?

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

The music was loud, people chit chattering even louder, women with dresses that enhances the chest area was practically fucking some men in the corners. But after what you went through? The dodgy bar that Jisung took you to was a luxury hotel from what you had been dealing with capture at that ship…

You get snapped out of your thoughts with about bang, in front of you stood now a large pint of beer, fizzing and foaming up to the edges. Jisung then sat down and took a large chunk of his own pint he still held in his hand. “There we go, don’t worry, the beer is on me. I figured you’d need it after that whole experience. I doubt those shitheads knows how to feed a lady” he stated, chuckling a bit, using the other chair next to him as a stand for his feet as he let out a groan in relief. “Now, what was that name of yours? I didn’t get catch it last time”

“My name?”

“Your name”

“Oh, right. It’s Y/N, Y/L/N Y/N” you whispered. When you said your surname you saw how Jisung choked on his beer, almost spitting it out again in shock. He hit his chest repeatedly until the beer had gone down the right pipe again.

“Fucking hell? As in the Y/L/N-clan? You’re their daughter? You’re a fucking high class noble woman! How the fuck did you end up captured by them then? Isn’t that miles and miles away?” He asked. Looking at you with huge eyes, the foam of the beer had given him a light moustache. You let out a slight giggle from the look on his face, then you take a big chunk of your own beer.

“I ran away, they set you marry me away 4 days ago, that night I couldn’t take it, I hated that old man they set me up with, he was at least three times my age but the wallet weight more than my family’s love for me I suppose. What I didn’t calculate for was that I’d be captured in the middle of the night by those men who had no idea who I was, so they said they’d keep me as their whore, slave or both. I sailed stuck to that pole until this evening, so thank you for saving me, I wish I could repay you but I don’t have anything of worth on me” you whispered, feeling a flood of guilt flush over you, he had saved your life and you couldn’t even repay him?

“I’m not asking for a payment, Y/N. I saved you because I felt like it, not from the goodness of my heart, not from whatever your noble brain can come up with, I saved you because I was bored and saw you on their deck. Alright? No need to pay me” he stated. Crossing his feet over the other on the chair next to him.

“But there must be something-“

“Enough. I don’t need anything I promise, we’re alright” he said quickly. Looking directly into your eyes. You could feel your heart beat faster again… it could possibly not be adrenaline now, right? For sure he is handsome, but is he even your type? Do you even have a type?

“So what will happen with you now? I’d say get a new dress is your first option, you can’t walk around with your tits almost hung out unless you want someone to accuse you for being a whore” Jisung stated, which made your cheeks flush in embarrassment. You quickly tried to gather the material that was left from what the men had cut off, looking down at your ripped and ruined clothings...

“I have no money and nowhere to go, but do not worry about me, I’ll find a way” I say calmly, smiling in a reassuring manner, even if you were terrified. When you had ran away from home you had no plan, you just knew you had to get out of there before it was too late…

“I may have an old dress or two for you to get, neither of my mates will mind, it’s not like they walk around in a skirt ever..”

“Your mates?”

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

Your chest was beating faster than ever, you felt like you’d pass out any moment…

“You’re a pirate?”

Your entire life your parents had warned you about the pirates that hunted the seven seas. They took what they wanted, murdered, fucked the women and ran off, your father had always said if you ever had the displease of coming a cross a pirate run away and don’t look back before you call the local sheriff. Perhaps if you had heard about this before he rescued you, you’d agree to your father’s words but now? Especially after spending a couple hours with the man you had come to quite enjoy his company. A sexy man who seemed charming enough with perhaps a bit too big of an ego than you’d like, how could he be such a criminal? Being a pirate is a death sentence if you get caught, you won’t even get a trial? Why would this man choose this path of life?

“What did you expect?” Jisung asked in an amused tone as he practically carried you up the rope to his ship, placing you down on the edge of the ships railing, letting you sit there as he climbed on the other side and then carried you bridal style over to the deck where he sat you down carefully.

“I thought you-“

“Were a man of honour and prosperity? Ma’am you’ve come to the wrong place if you’re looking for a hero or a good man” he stated as he fumbled up a key that was hooked on a piece of string around his neck underneath his shirt. He then unlocked the giant trap door leading to the inside of the ship. You both climb down there, you were met by the stench of rum and seawater which made you make a slight grimace.

“We should have some women’s clothing down here from when we raided this noble family all the way in Busan. Like fuck you should have seen those dumb posh faces when-“ he stopped himself, realising that you may take offence by his harsh words about the upper class since he now knew you were upper class as well. “Sorry..”

“No offence taken. To be quite frank, there is a reason I left that place, no money in the world could make me feel happy in that hell. I may have lived in a mansion but that mansion was a jail impossible to break out of in my eyes” you say, sighing deeply as you start to look around through bits and bobs that was scattered around the room. “To be honest I’m envying you. You’re free, away from responsibilities, marriage, birthing children, preferably sons and don’t even get me started on the dreadful gatherings, all the noble ladies wanted to speak about was money of men. I’m tired of it..” you say, slowly turning to a desk with a bunch of documents and paper on it, on the top of a shelf that stood right above the desk was a picture in a frame of 8 young men next to the very ship they were in right now, you could easily pick out where Jisung were despite the low resolution of the picture, with his arm around one of the other guys with a huge smile on his mouth.

“That’s my crew, you see the one with the hat is our leader, or captain, Chan is his name. It started when him and I met all the way in Australia where we stole this glory out of some poor bastard who used it for the queens guards, we decorated it and then before we could leave Australia we met this poor bloke called Felix who joined us” Jisung explained, then pointing at a guy with long bright hair who was winking with one eye. “He already had a huge penny on his head at home after his father found out he was a homosexual, we took him in, we don’t give a fuck who he sticks his dick inside, he is our brother nonetheless” he stated.

“That’s very beautiful if you ask me. You claim to be a bad person but a bad person wouldn’t do that” you explained slowly, looking at him, realising he stood right behind you, with his head almost hanging over your shoulder so that he also could view the old frame, you slowly chew on the inside of your cheek… he really was handsome for a pirate… Han clear his throat before he continues, slowly feeling a bit unease by her words, why would a lady like her truly find him, a criminal, that good?

“Well we figured as we were going to be pirates we already would have a straight way to the gallons if caught, adding hiding a gay man on the list didn’t seem too bad” Jisung stated, looking at you for a few seconds before his eyes quickly turn to the picture again.

“And that’s Seungmin and Jeongin, we met them finally enough at that raid in Busan, they joined us quickly, they’re young but extremely fun and always tells the best stories when we are up late at night around a campfire” he explains with a slight smile. “Oh and that’s Changbin, Hyunjin and Minho. Minho is second captain after Chan, he is also the head cook, probably the only one of us that can actually cook well. Changbin is also the fastest at climbing ropes you’ll ever see! I swear we have accused him of being a witch at least fourteen times!” He explained, smiling at himself as he thought of his dear friends. “And a little secret, we are fairly sure that Felix has had sex with Hyunjin before, we don’t know when but there is something with the way they act…However, whenever we try to get some information out of them they bulge, what a dumb bunch for thinking we’d judge them” he explained and laughed. “They’re all dumb but… they’re the only family I have left”

“Where are they now then?” You ask, realising you hadn’t even seen a trace of any of the said men since you entered the ship.

“Oh they’re in town, probably getting fucked up with all the alcohol, that was my plan too until… yeah” Jisung admitted. “I’m sorry for ruining your plans, Jisung” you sigh as you quickly turn around, face as close as it could be without touching from each other, his eyes looking almost black in front of you due to the lack of light in there… your heart racing faster and faster, he was dangerously close to you, with one hand resting on the shelf behind you, trapping you between the desk and his body…

“Trust me… I’m glad I had my plans changed, otherwise I wouldn’t have had the pleasure of meeting you” Jisung whisper, you can feel his breath against your skin, keeping you eyes at him you slowly placed one hand on his chest that was slightly exposed due to the buttons he had unbuttoned. You swore you could see a slight smirk on his lips perk up. You could feel his hand that wasn’t against the shelf behind you travel to your lower back in a firm get gentle grip.

Before you could even think of what you were doing, you kissed him. You didn’t know what went through your head fuck you liked it. You could taste the beer you had previously had in your mouth as the kiss progressed, deepening and becoming more rough as you became familiar with each other. He hadn’t even questioned it as he had kissed you back the moment your lips met his.

The kiss was hot, breathy, yet you felt more relaxed with this man than you had ever done with a man at home. You felt how his hand that was on the shelf met your hip on the opposite side as the other before he easily lift up up and placed your ass on the table behind you. Then for a moment he broke the kiss before his mouth traveled along your mouth down to your neck and collarbone. You let a moan slip through your lips, the only sound echoing through the walls was the sounds of your heavy breaths along with whatever sound the sea could make from the shore.

His mouth leads its way back to yours, unable to stay away from it for too long. You let your tongue run over his bottom lip and he opens his mouth for you. When you feel his tongue meet yours, blistering electricity shocks down your spine in pure lust. You kiss him harder, his tongue mapping out every inch of yours as if he is in search of the lost treasure in there. He pulls your legs apart so he can stand right between them, feeling his body pressed against yours. You let his hands roam your body, then as he grabs some of the poor material that still held your chest in decent coverage and you hear a loud skrratch. That fucker tore it! As if it was barely anything to tore anyways… his hands cupped your breasts, breathing heavy into your mouth. His hands was fucking cold, but oh it felt so good. He then stop kissing you for a moment, looking into your eyes as both tried to desperately catch your breaths. The tension was electrifying.

“Can I fuck you?” He ask out of the blue after a few seconds of being silence.

As the words left his mouth it took you by a surprise, asking that question when your tits was already free for him when you had willingly had him like this. Almost a comedic moment and a rather funny timing on his part. Instead of answering you grabbed his shirt, giving him a wet kiss on the mouth. He took that sentence as a yes.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

You had never met a pirate before, let alone fucked one. But there you were. He had somehow managed to move you from the desk to the floor. His shirt tossed somewhere along the way along with his trousers. Your upper part of the dress torn a long time ago but your long skirt still intact, him? He was under your skirt between your legs, licking long stripes on your pussy, holding his strong hands around your thighs, partly for keeping you from closing them around him, partly because himself needed something to hold on to.

Your moans echoed through the room, your legs trembling as you covered your upper part of the face with your hand, moaning louder. His mouth doing wonders down there as you were slowly feeling like you’ll reach your peak any moment now.

“I’m gonna cum, Jisung” you breathe out, heavy breaths making it almost impossible for you to say a full sentence.

“Then cum for me, darling” he growled from under your skirt, a loud slap echoed as you felt his hand slap ass. That slap was almost like the last thing you needed, you felt the knotting feeling in your lower stomach build up to the point where it overflow. You let out a breath of pleasure as you came, breathing heavy as you tried to catch your breath. You felt how Jisung kept licking up every single drop of you, feeling your legs turn into jelly as you tried to catch your high along with handling the overstimulation happening.

That’s when you heard it…

“Why is it unlocked?”

“I don’t know”

Then you heard a click, they’re loading their revolver…

Jisung knew that voice extremely well, so the panic arose even faster. He quickly got out of your skirt, his lips glossy from your fluids. “Fuck fuck fuck” he whispered, trying to gather his clothes.

“Guys it’s just me” he yelled, hoping if they were faster than him it would lead to at least them not being shot. That’s when he also tossed one of the dresses he promised you your way, quickly trying to put on his trousers. You act fast as well, doing everything in your power to get the damn dress on and you threw the old dress into a pile of hay in the corner. If you had more time to think perhaps it would be more melodramatic, throwing away the last piece of your old life as if it was nothing. But now? You had no time to think.

You signalled to the halfway dressed man to help you with the zipper in the back. Jisung went right into action, rushing over to you, managing with a trembling hand to get the zipper up right in time for…

“Who’s that?” A voice Said, you remembered him from the picture, that’s Chan, the captain.

“Oh!” Jisung said, clearing his throat, quickly wiping his mouth from whatever excess that was left from you. “This is Miss Y/N. I.. I- uh-“ Jisung said in panic, not sure how to explain to his captain what the fuck he had been doing down here. “I-I was lending her one of our dresses, it’s not like we use them right? I accidentally ruined hers by dropping beer on it” he lies, giving the captain a half sided smile. “But now as you can see she is in the dress so I’ll just go ahead and help her off the ship, thanks” he said and practically pushed you up the ladder to the deck of the ship, leaving the confused captain to wonder what the hell he just witnessed.

“D-Do I really have to go?” You ask slowly, looking at him under the moonlight, a light breeze making his hair blow in the wind… you felt a lump in your stomach again, not like last time, this time you knew… you didn’t wanna leave him.

“W-Well we sail at dawn and perhaps you should find a new place to stay and-“

“Can’t I stay with you?”

“Y/N… I can’t ask that of you? You’ll become a criminal, a whore in the eye of law?” He say, his eyes giving such soft look yet so much pain behind them at the idea of you perhaps leaving for good… you slowly walk up to him, placing one hand on his cheek, making him look at you… he had shown you more humanity, more freedom and lust within these few hours you’d known him than anyone else… you knew you had to stay here…

“I rather be your whore than a noble man’s wife” you whisper, looking into his eyes, seeing how the pain in his eyes flood away and replace with happiness as he grabs your waist, lifts you up and spin you two around, letting out a loud laugh of happiness. You let out a screech and held onto his shoulders tightly as he spun you in case he would drop you, not that he ever would… As he sit you down again he remove his hands form your waits and cups your cheeks like you cupped his a moment ago, placing a couple chaste kisses on your mouth.

“Oh this is” kiss “going to be” kiss kiss “fucking great!” Kiss kiss kiss “I’ll show you the world, I’ll show you what real freedom is”

You couldn’t answer before you heard a voice. You look over at the trapdoor where Chans head stuck out, he held up the dress from the haystack between two fingers.

“Uh, guys? I thought you said it had beer on it, not that you ripped it apart..”

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

[pholla-jm]

SUPERHERO

IMAGINE: SUPERHERO~ SATORU X READER FEAT: MEGUMI genre: fluff warnings: none. maybe spelling errors. not proofread. gn!reader ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘Who is your favorite superhero?’ 

The question on the paper taunted Megumi as he stared at it. 

Megumi barely watches shows or reads superhero comics. He tried to think of anyone or anything in his life that he considers a superhero. 

With an annoyed sigh, he stuffs the paper into his bag. Pushing the question to the back of his mind, and deeming it a future problem. 

His teacher announces that it’s time to go home and that the parents were here to pick them up. 

Megumi knew exactly who would be outside, and he could already feel the annoyance creeping in. 

When he walked outside, he could already see the tall white haired man. He stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd of parents. What he didn’t expect was to see a smaller companion standing next to him. Both of the adults were smiling at him; Gojo giving him a mischievous smile, and his companion giving him a warm and welcoming smile. 

He was almost reluctant to walk to his now guardians, but he was really happy to see you. One of the only ones he can stand nowadays. “(y/n)!” He says, legs moving faster so he can welcome you with open arms. 

“Megumi!” You respond, returning his welcome ten folds. 

“Awe, why don’t I get a welcome?” Gojo pouts with his arms crossed. 

He was looking down at the younger boy, but Megumi didn’t care. 

“You don’t get one, old man.” 

Gojo gasps at his words. “But (y/n) get’s one? And they’re the same age as me!” 

Megumi lets go of you, and turns to Gojo. 

“(y/n) isn’t annoying like you.” He says and grabs onto your hand. He drags you to the side of the car he usually sits at. Right behind the driver seat. Right behind Gojo, but he can see the person right in the passenger seat- you. 

“I’m not annoying.” Gojo mutters while walking to the car as well. “I’m not annoying, right (y/n)?” He asks you. You purse your lips and give him a side eye. 

After helping Megumi into his seat and making sure he’s comfortable, you close the door, shooting Gojo a look. 

‘What?’ He mouths. “You know.” You respond before going over to the passenger side of the car. Gojo sighs, muttering words of how unfair things were. He steps into the car, eyes immediately fluttering over to Megumi, then back at you. 

He knew exactly what you were talking about, but was that going to stop him? No. Absolutely not. 

The three of you arrive at the estate shortly. Megumi immediately unbuckles, and hops out of the car already dreading about doing his homework. He knew that he would be sitting in the chair for hours. 

“Go ahead and get started on your homework while I cook dinner.” You say while patting the tap of his head. 

Megumi nods his head while you start to chat with Gojo. His eyes straying longer on you rather than Gojo. 

The light bickering and laughter causes him to roll his eyes and walk past the both of you. 

When inside, he places his bag down and fishes out the paper that needs to be finished. 

‘Who is your favorite superhero?’ 

It seemed so simple. He could honestly lie and say Ironman or something like that. But he would have to write a couple sentences about why that is his favorite superhero.

“Gojo Satoru! I swear if you throw one more thing at me, you will get no sweets tonight.” 

Megumi’s ears perked up hearing your raised voice at Gojo. He hears a small thud, soon followed by a dramatic gasp. 

“Hey, turn off your infinity! It’s not fair.” 

Gojo only laughs which in turn annoys Megumi. 

But as he hears your laughter joining him, Megumi finally realizes something. 

His favorite superhero… is you. (L/n)(y/n). 

You were one of his favorite people. He didn’t know why, but he sure does now. 

Megumi starts furiously writing on the paper. He wanted to get all of his thoughts out before they were lost. 

“Hmm, let me see what you’re doing.” Megumi hears Gojo's voice and he jumps a little bit. He was so engrossed doing his homework, he didn’t even hear Gojo’s footsteps. 

He is quiet for a few seconds while reading his work. A smile graces his face. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Gojo says. 

“It’s not about you, so I don’t care how you feel.” 

“But my name is written down here.” 

“Cause I’m explaining how (y/n) is the only one that can handle you. Anyone that can handle you is a superhero in my books.” 

You walked in while Megumi explained this. And you laughed. 

“Oh, Megumi,” you say while walking over to the boys. “It’s very sweet of you to think of me as a superhero, but I’m not handling him.” 

Megumi tilts his head, a bit confused. 

“I’m with him because I love him for who he is. Even if he does have a big personality… it’s what I love about him.” Gojo grins as wide as he could at your words. “Awe, I love you too, sugarplum.” Gojo says while leaning down to capture your lips for a split second. 

You giggle, “even if his nicknames are next level horrendous.” 

Gojo pouts at your words, while Megumi’s stomach churns in disgust. 

It wasn’t disgusting like he'd just seen something gory. It was a disgust, like two parents showing affection to each other.

[sandersstudies]

Okay so I’ve been thinking about this since yesterday and trying to be as fair as possible to these parents, because these are people in my extended village, and I’ve started thinking of some positive interactions/interventions I’ve had that aren’t “tell the parent they aren’t parenting correctly” (which we all know is unfair).

1. Care for the parent. If the parent is upset, they are likely going to upset the child, even if they don’t mean to. Give mom or dad a hug or some time to calm down before they have to jump into parenting again.

2. Related to part 1, offer to solve the problem without you ever disciplining the child. (It’s straight-up not my place to discipline children in front of their parents without explicit consent — only a few members of my village have told me that it’s acceptable for me to observe and correct their children.) This could be as simple as “hey it seems like the girls have a lot of energy right now, want me to watch them outside so they can run around while you finish what you’re doing?”

3. Talk to them in a calm moment if you see a pattern and see if they need long-term support. “Hey, I’ve noticed it’s really been a struggle for you to transition Della out of dance class and into the car. Is there anything I can do to help you and her with that transition? Does she need some extra time to pack her things or say goodbye to her friends?”

4. Relate to the child. Some people have forgotten what it’s like to be a kid, or they have a kid who is radically different from themselves. I was a kid who was often “naughty” myself and I remember my reasons (good AND bad) for behaving that way. Many parents genuinely don’t see the logic in children’s behavior and sometimes an outside adult who can say “hahaha I do that” is actually a weight off their minds.

5. Relate to the parent. And also, sometimes they just need you to be a wall for them to complain at. If they are really frustrated, it’s better they get it out of their system in a reasonable conversation with you than to snap at their kids later. Parenting IS hard — I haven’t done it myself but I’ve watched others do it long enough to glean.

My knowledge about child development versus the social pressure to not interfere with other people’s parenting fight daily

[nadvs]

the act of unravelling (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

Being in Rafe’s truck again is like being thrown back into a bad dream you can’t wake up from. You remember every detail from that night, the smell of bleach, the ache in your bones.

He parked by the edge of the country club lot, and as he settles in his seat and shuts the door, he wraps both of you in privacy behind his tinted windows.

“What is it?” you ask, your voice cutting through the tension. Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. He seems nervous, a contradiction to the smugness you’ve gotten used to.

“You were right,” he admits. “Cops aren’t even sniffing around yet and people think it was me.”

You meet his eyes, the blue hue bright and striking. The night it happened, you’d only seen him through the dark. Now, in the daylight, he almost looks innocent. But then you remember the loudness of the gun and how angry he looked when he fired it.

“What happened?” you ask.

“Last night,” he begins, “a few of us were hanging out and people were talking about how something might’ve happened to him. This guy had his name in my mouth… said some shit about how they should probably ask me.”

You nod slowly, taking his words in. You expected as much. As someone who openly hated Porter, Rafe’s likely at the top of everyone’s list of suspects.

“What’d you do?” you say.

“I swung at him.”

You exhale defeatedly, looking up at the ceiling of his car. He’s such a loose cannon that for the first time since that night, you worry that he won’t be able to keep his mouth shut.

“Damn it, Rafe,” you complain. “And you were giving me shit for being obvious?”

His temper flares like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline.

“I’m not gonna sit there and let some asshole say that shit about me,” he mutters. “This is why we need to have our story straight, alright? If you even think about ratting me out, you’ll regret it.”

You tense up. So, this is why he so desperately needed to talk to you. You can’t believe you thought you could find any comfort in him.

“You don’t need to threaten me,” you say sharply. Rafe is taken aback by the confusion on your face. You look like you’d never even considered selling him out. But maybe you’re just a great liar.

“We said we’re in this together,” you continue. “Neither of us leaves the other, no matter how messy it gets. That’s the whole point of being each other’s alibis.”

Rafe sucks his teeth. You realize just how on edge he is about this. He was so comfortable the night it happened. Almost careless. Irritated at how anxious you were. Now, it’s like he’s spiraling.

“I won’t let this ruin my life,” Rafe mumbles. He huffs an unamused chuckle, looking out of the driver’s side window. “I’m not going to jail. I’m not…”

He trails into silence. You stare at his profile. The coldness you’ve always seen in him has been shadowed by a deep paranoia.

“I’m freaked out, too,” you admit. He looks at you again. “But this is only going to work if we trust each other. We need to stick to our story so well that even we start to believe it.”

He tilts his head, looking at you with skepticism, a wrinkle between his brows.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about screwing me over, Pogue,” he says. “You could say I did it and scared you into staying quiet.”

“Are you that paranoid?” you ask. “I won’t go behind your back. I promise. Even if it’s just a cover-up, we need to act like we’re friends now.”

Rafe gives you a once-over, the hardness in his face slowly fading.

“And don’t call me that,” you say. “You know my name.”

He breathes a real chuckle this time. Despite your better judgement, your heart flutters that you’ve earned a smile from him.

“You’ll take it to the grave?” he murmurs.

“I will. You, too?”

“Yeah,” he says. He studies you again, realizing that you don’t have a guilty conscience at all. “You really don’t regret it.”

“No,” you state. The agony of reliving what Porter did to you hurts more than any sort of remorse you feel for taking his life.

Rafe is surprised to hear you don’t wish you could take what you did back. You’re as cold-blooded as he is. You might be the only person who comes close to understanding what it’s like being controlled by anger this intense.

“I just hate how I can’t stop thinking about if we left any evidence,” you say.

“Yeah.” He settles back, adjusting in his seat with ease, the tension between you dissipating. “We were rushed.”

You nod as you chew on your lip.

“At least nobody saw us,” you say. “And if the cops check our phones, they won’t find anything.”

“Good thinking to turn them off.”

Your face creases in surprise.

“What?” he says.

“Just throws me off when you’re not an asshole.”

He scoffs, his jaw tensing. But beneath the irritation, he wishes he could undo the way he’d spoken to you when you first got in the car.

It’s like his mind is speaking a different language to him when he feels any sort of shame. He usually tries to shut it up. When he looks at you again, he decides not to.

“I didn’t mean to… threaten you,” Rafe mumbles.

“Yeah, you did,” you say with a humorless laugh. “But I’m on your side here. Don’t forget that.”

You check your phone. You have plans to hang out with the guys after work and after what you put them through a few nights ago, you’d rather not leave them hanging again.

“I should go,” you say. “My friends are waiting on me.”

“Did you tell them the truth?”

“No,” you say. “This stays between you and me only. Trust me.”

Rafe stares at you, longer than he ever has before. It’s not anger in his face. Not worry, either. It’s something new. Vulnerability.

“I don’t trust anybody,” he says.

Your lips twitch into a frown. Even though this is a man who’s relentlessly teased you for your place in the classist system he seems to worship, your heart twinges in sympathy.

“Nobody?” you ask quietly.

He looks out the window again, tense and distant. He doesn’t say anything else.

“I have your back,” you reiterate to him. “To the grave, right?”

“Yeah,” he offers, not looking at you again. You exit his car, the confusing knot in your chest only tighter now.

·········

The police start knocking on doors a day later. When they come to yours, you do your best impression of a clueless nobody who just wants to help.

The lead on the case introduces himself as Detective Brading, settling in your living room like he’s been here before. He’s so confident that it’s intimidating. You can imagine Porter’s wealthy family are doing everything they can to find out what happened. The man staring at you is likely the best of the best.

You’ve rehearsed your story so many times that it feels natural. The two men nod along as you lie to them about how you’d fallen asleep in the bedroom, how you’d woken up to him and Rafe arguing, how you convinced Rafe to leave with you.

Your parents stand close by, arms crossed. This is the most they’ve heard you speak in a long time. They hardly ever ask you anything about your life, so it feels odd to have their attention.

“We think you two might have been the last people to see him before he went missing,” Brading tells you. “Porter didn’t say anything about going anywhere?”

“No,” you answer. “Rafe and I left pretty quickly.”

The detective looks up at your parents with raised brows, asking them to give you a moment. When they leave, he leans a little closer.

“We know he dealt drugs,” he murmurs. “And we know you bought from him. We’re not interested in getting anyone in trouble for that. We just want to know what happened to Porter. Is there anything you didn’t mention about that night in front of your parents? Be honest.”

“I fell asleep because I smoked too much pot,” you say quietly, looking back through the doorway your parents left through. It’s taking everything in you not to cry as you think about why you really lost consciousness in that room. “But I only ever bought that from him. He offered other things. Like cocaine. It’s why he and Rafe argued.”

It’s what you agreed on saying, but it still feels like you’re selling Rafe out. It’d be suspicious if you didn’t tell them this version of the truth, though.

The detective nods, clearly having been told this already. Your chest twists in unease as you think about Rafe’s name in everyone’s mouth, leading the cops to him. And possibly to you.

“How close are you to Rafe?”

“We've been talking more since I started my job at the country club,” you say. “We started hanging out a little bit ago. We’re friends.”

“Do you think he would’ve done anything to Porter?” Brading asks.

You meet his eyes, swallowing hard.

“No,” you say resolutely. “I don’t.”

·········

A man is missing and possibly, at this point, presumed dead. But that doesn’t stop Kooks from wanting to party.

You’re in the passenger seat as JJ drives to the north side of the island while John B and Pope talk in the back. You’re gazing out the window, watching the landscape go from dilapidated front yards to gated communities.

You’re heading to a party that you heard about from one of Porter’s friends and the way the police questioned you earlier today is spinning in your head.

“You good?” JJ asks.

You look over at your friend, flattening your lips together. You can never tell the whole truth, but you can offer bits and pieces.

“The cops told me they think I’m the last person who saw Porter before he disappeared,” you say. You can’t bring yourself to tell them the version of the story that includes Rafe yet. They’d never believe you. They’d judge you. “It’s kind of scary to think about.”

“My money’s on that he went on a bender,” JJ says. “Sampled his own product. Maybe even too much of it.”

“You think he overdosed?” you ask.

“More like Rafe offed him,” Pope chimes in.

“Is that what people are saying?” you ask, blood cold, turning back to look at him.

“It’s what I’m saying,” he answers. “The guy’s unhinged.”

You want to defend Rafe. To say he wouldn’t go that far. But it’d be suspicious. And a complete lie.

“It’s a small island,” John B says. “It’s only a matter of time before we find out what happened.”

You hope that’s not true.

·········

You make it to the house, reminding yourself over and over that you have to live as if you believe your own lie. You want to erase that night from your memory. Erase what Porter did to you.

You chug the first drink you can get your hands on. Your friends rib you for how quickly you down it. You blame it on a rough day at work.

Soon after, you’re at the keg, not even close to buzzed yet, but desperately needing to be. Discussing Porter with the cops today, pretending like he was just a dealer you had a few short conversations with, hearing that his family is concerned for his wellbeing made your pulse spike.

Does his family know what a monster he is?

You have to correct yourself.

Was.

“Slow down,” you hear.

Rafe towers over you, his eyes on your cup.

“What?” you shout over the music and conversations surrounding you.

“You’re on your second drink already.”

You look over your shoulder to make sure your friends don’t see you talking with him.

“I don’t even feel anything,” you reply sharply.

It’s a half-truth. Your sadness and anger are weighing heavy on your soul. That vile man took away your power, but you took it back, so you hate that you’re still so rattled by what he did. You just want peace.

“And why are you keeping tabs on me?” you ask.

Rafe stares at you, his lips just slightly parted. He can lie and say he wants to make sure you’re not setting yourself up to get hammered and potentially admit to someone what you did.

But even he’s not that selfish right now. The truth is he can’t stop thinking about you. And he doesn’t like seeing that look on your face, sad and absentminded.

He knows you hate him. He wishes he could hate you back.

“I need to be sure you’re not a liability,” he lies. “And people think we’re friends now, don’t they?”

You look over your shoulder again, anxious the guys will see you. You need privacy if you’re going to continue this conversation.

“Come on,” you say, dipping your hand in his, dragging him through the crowd. His palm is warm and soft and you don’t know what you were expecting, but the way Rafe feels is the opposite of it.

You open the first door you see, stepping into a narrow closet. You shut the door and switch on a light and suddenly he’s standing right over you, all breadth and intimidation.

Your heart races from the way you’d just touched him, from the way he’s just about pressed up against you right now. Something must be short-circuiting in your brain, because the fear you used to hold for him is entirely gone.

The attraction you’ve always felt is overpowering now. You can’t make sense of your own emotions.

“I haven’t told my friends our story,” you confess.

“What?” Rafe snips, his tone low.

“I can’t handle telling them right now, okay?” you say. You cross your arms. “I just said I was with a guy. Telling them that guy was you is… They’ll be so disappointed in me.”

“Disappointed,” he repeats with a scoff.

“Rafe, think back to every encounter you’ve had with us. All you’ve ever done is insult us. I don’t even want to think about how hurt they’ll be to hear I’m friends with you.”

“Who gives a fuck?” he mutters. “We need to make sure our alibi is solid. If the cops find out your friends don’t know we–”

“I’d tell the truth,” you say. “That I was worried about what they’d think.”

“I can’t believe you.” The thought of you being concerned about someone else’s opinion is ridiculous. “Why do you care so much?”

“They’re the only family I have,” you admit. It comes out before you even realize it. You look down, sighing. “You don’t get it. You’re like… an enemy to us. They know how shitty you treat me when I’m at work. Telling them–“

“How the hell do I treat you shitty?” he interrupts.

“I know that those tips are all a degrading show of how you’re so much richer and better than me,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s not like that.”

“What’s it like, then? Charity?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, his nostrils flaring. Charity isn’t the right word. He hides behind a forced ego, but he’s always wanted you. And through excessive tips and constant teasing, at least he can talk to you without risking the chance of you rejecting him.

You have him all wrong. He doesn’t think he’s better than you. He’s afraid you’re better than him.

“I’ll tell my friends, okay?” you say when he doesn’t speak. “But I talked to the cops today and they seemed convinced. We’ll be fine.”

“They talked to me, too. I can tell they think it was me.” There’s an almost imperceptible tremble in Rafe's voice. “Everyone thinks it was me.”

“Even your friends?”

“Yeah,” he says. If he can even call them friends. Hearing you call yours family made his jealousy flare. Envy is all Rafe ever feels. Like he’s missing the one thing that deems everyone else loveable.

But he’s hanging on how you said they’re your only family. He doesn’t have a family, either. Not really. Not one that cares about him. Maybe you understand him more than he thought.

“Well…” You clear your throat. “They can believe what they want. You can trust me that I won’t ever tell anyone what really happened.”

“Why?” he finally asks. “Why not just snitch on me, Pogue?”

“Because that night, I told you to do it and you did. The world is a better place without him in it. You did me a favor.” You uncross your arms. “And I told you to stop calling me that.”

Rafe clears his throat, giving in, remembering how you’d saved his life and offering a quiet sorry before he says your name.

It’s the gentlest you’ve ever seen him. It’s a shock to your system. You search his blue eyes in the dim of the closet as if you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to make a snide joke.

But he doesn’t. He just stares at you, his breaths shallow, and you rethink everything you thought you knew about him.

He’s violent and aggressive and condescending. But you don’t see that right now. You see a man who doesn’t seem to be able to believe that someone would want to protect him. Is that who he is behind all the bravado?

The world continues to turn on the other side of the door, music blasting, bass rattling, but time has stopped between you. He’s looking at you through low lids. Like he wants you.

You shouldn’t. Shit is already complicated enough. But what’s one more tangle in the string tying you together?

Your fingers are at the collar of his button-up, pulling him towards you, lips meeting with abandon.

Rafe kisses you back immediately, hungrily leaning into you, cupping your face. His heart is racing. He doesn’t know how or why this is happening, but he wants it so bad that it hurts.

Your mouths part and finally, you taste him against your tongue. It feels so right, like you were always meant to do this and were both too stubborn to.

His hands press tighter against your jaw. Fear floods you. You’re back in that bedroom. You pull back.

“Not so hard,” you say.

“Okay,” he whispers, his grip loosening. He stays hovering over you, nose nudging yours. “Just… please…”

You nod, tilting your head to kiss him again, his hunger for you palpable. You’re with Rafe again, not in that bedroom, but here with a man you want who listens to your wishes.

Your head is swimming with bliss as he kisses you, smelling like cologne and desire, every piece of you wanting him. Then, his hands drift down over the curves of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

And it’s too much. You’re back there again. Begging for it to stop.

“No,” you snap, both hands roughly pushing his chest.

Rafe hits the shelves behind him, his head radiating in pain from how hard he smacked against the wood.

“What the fuck?” he mutters. He was just living in a dream. Why the hell are you pulling him out of it?

“No,” you repeat breathlessly. “You can’t touch me like that.”

“Okay,” he groans. “I won’t. Jesus.”

He clutches the back of his head, wincing.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your throat raw. “I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

“Why’d you even kiss me?” he says. “Fuck.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. You step towards him, trying to meet his eyes. “You can’t… I need you to ask before you touch me like that.”

His lips are glossy from the kiss, his face pinched in pain. You take a risk, gently placing your hands on his cheeks.

Rafe should be angry at you. But goddamn it, your touch feels so good that he melts. His gaze is heavy on yours, both of you breathing deeply, coming down from the sudden outburst.

“I didn’t mean to,” you repeat softly. “Just don’t take me by surprise. I can’t handle it.”

Rafe searches your face, silently asking for an explanation.

You shake your head, not having it in you to answer right now. Your goal tonight was to forget. Not relive. You pull him closer, and thankfully, he lets you.

Your lips are tender after you part, having lost count of how long you’ve been kissing.

Things just got so much more complicated. But you wouldn’t take it back. Not for a second. Nothing else makes sense right now, but having Rafe the way you always secretly wanted him is the one thing that does.

“Don’t fuck me over,” he says, a note of cynicism in his tone as his forehead brushes against yours. “No matter what happens, don’t fuck me over.”

“I won’t,” you promise.

·········

The next morning, you’re walking through the club hall towards the golf course to start your shift. You still can’t get the way Rafe’s mouth felt against yours out of your mind.

He kissed you like he’s been waiting to kiss you for ages. Like he felt lucky that he got to.

You’re about to step through the glass doors leading outside, but the sound of your name makes ice go through your veins. You know that gravelly voice.

You turn to see Detective Brading, his stare intimidating.

“You have a minute to talk?” he says.

You can tell by his tone that it isn’t a question.

to be continued

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[miaoua3]

(pairing: hoshi x f!reader)

sitting on the couch in the living room while reading a book to pass the time, you hear the door open and close, meaning that your boyfriend is finally home.

already smiling, you sit and wait to hear with what pickup line you will be greeted with today.

it has become sort of a tradition for soonyoung to say some flirty and silly pickup line upon entering your shared apartment instead of a plain “i’m home.”. yesterday for example, he greeted you with a “what’s brewing, my hot caramel and chocolate latte macchiato?”. they didn’t even make sense, but they were your favourite part of the day.

so, after 15 second of silence after he has entered, you knew immediately that something was wrong.

getting up, you call out “baby? is that you?”.

rounding up the corner, you see him clumsily trying to take off his chunky boots. upon noticing your presence, he mumbles “hm? oh yeah, hi.”.

oh-uh.

you immediately walk towards him, grabbing his round cheeks in your hands gently. directly his face so you can look at him, you coo through a pout. “what’s wrong, baby? did something happen? can i help you somehow?”.

noticing his red eyes slowly blinking at you, your heart breaks just a bit more.

through a quiet mumble, he said “just…it was a long say today. bad and long.”

rubbing his cheeks with your thumbs, you whisper just as quietly as he did “can i do something for you, baby?”.

his shoulder slightly drop in exhaustion as he closes his eyes.

“just hug me…and please don’t let go.”

immediately getting to it, you pull his head down so it rests on your shoulder before pulling the rest of him towards you. his arms immediately snake around your waist while he rubs his face (and all of his makeup) on your shoulder.

the entire time you just let your hands run up and down his back and head, shushing him whenever you feel his shoulder unconsciously tense up, probably because his mind can’t stop thinking about whatever things happened to him today and that got him feeling this stressed.

after what must’ve felt like half an hour (when in reality it was just 10 minutes) of hugging, you mumble against his ear “do you want me to prepare you something to eat? i went to your parents’ today, your mom gave me some kimchi to bring you, i could maybe make something with it while you take a shower?”.

upon you mentioning shower and insinuating for you two to separate, you feel his whole body tense up again, his head shaking ‘no’ firmly.

sensing that he will get upset again, you just say “okay, let’s just go to bed then, hm?”.

with a curt nod from him, you waddle to your room awkwardly while still holding him to yourself.

helping him change out of his clothes and into his pyjamas, you quickly help him take his makeup off and wash his face, never straying too far away and always keeping at least one hand on any part of his body.

finally, as you two lay down on your bed, he immediately crawls on top of you, forgetting that he’s a bit heavy and that he is definitely cutting off your breathing for the moment because of his weight on top of your chest.

but you ignore it, for the moment. because your soonyoungie, the love of your life, is seeking out your affection in hopes that his bad day can at least end on somewhat of a positive note.

you don’t even realise when he fell asleep until you hear low snoring from him, totally concentrated on playing with his short blonde hair.

feeling the dreamland calling for your name too, you kiss the top of his head before you close your eyes too.

“sweet dreams, my sweet boy.”

[writerspirit]

Chapter I

Pairing(s): Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader

Series: Schemmenti Family Agenda

Synopsis: After a student makes a comment to Y/n, Melissa takes into consideration what the next steps in your relationship should be.

Themes/Warnings: Fluff, Angst (please let me know if there are any warnings to be aware of)

A/N: I first wrote this part in an early morning surge of energy. I've already started on part two, so be on the lookout for that. I've also started an outline for an Agatha Harkness/Agnes x Fem!Reader w/ "magic baby" trope.

WC: ~ 2.15k

Having kids wasn’t something you thought to ever be on the agenda. It never was with you and Melissa. Both you and her being elementary teachers for Abbott, the only kids you two ever talked about “having” were your students. It has been a nice flow between you professionally. You being the other first grade teacher in the school, a good amount of kids in your class progress to your wife’s classroom in their following school year. These handful of kids are called by the other teachers as the “Double Schemmenti” kids, which you and Melissa find endearing.

These little aspects of your life at Abbott make being a teacher for these kids the best job anyone could ask for. Not to mention having the role of being these kids’ mentor, even sometimes their parent, is a gift in itself. So, whenever babies were a thought, it was more of a subtle whisper, rather than a thought-provoking idea.

That is until Melissa walks into your classroom after school one day to find you with one of your students playing with the deck of cards she so graciously lent for the room. 

“Hey, honey,” she smiles, making her way inside.

“Mrs. Schemmenti!” Aspen squeals. “Mrs. Schemmenti is teaching me how to play Kings in the Corner. It helps with my counting.”

“That’s great, sweetheart.” The redhead looks over at his hand and smiles. “Maybe next year you’ll be able to get a good grasp on poker so that you can beat all the chumps at the table.”

Aspen gives her a quizzical look. You, a furrow of the eyebrows, telling her to test the waters. She mouths a ‘sorry’ along with a low smile. Bringing her attention to your cards, she chuckles. “I don’t know, Mrs. Schemmenti. I think the kid’s hand is just enough to rattle you outta luck.”

Aspen’s smile turns to a little dance in place, in anticipation for his next move. 

You bring yourself to feign a sigh. “I think you might be right. I just can’t believe Aspen is so good already, and it’s his first time playing.”

Melissa shuffles back next to Aspen, who glances at her before she nods. “Take her down, kid.”

He rushes for a card before calculating his line of moves to play. With what seems to be one swift motion, his cards disappear from his hand and onto the floor with the others. “I got ya, Mrs. Schemmenti! Victory is mine!”

You giggle along with him. “You got me!” You and Melissa dance with him, doing your own little dances in place. Once he’s seemed to settle down from his victory dance, you help him pick up the cards.

“Why don’t you practice your shuffling while I talk with Mrs. Schemmenti?”

He nods. “Okay. I’ll go sit at my desk.”

“Okay.”

“He’s a quick little guy, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is. Smartest kid in the class. Maybe the smartest I’ve ever taught.” You peek at him, seeing if he’s focused on the cards in his hand, which he is. “His mom is working a little late today. The divorce hasn’t been easy for either of them, so I told her that I can stay with Aspen a little later than the allotted time for pickup.”

Melissa sighs. “Don’t I know it. Divorce is tough. I can’t imagine the added stress of having a child during the process.”

You quickly take a look at your watch. “You don’t have to wait up for me. Janine and Ava have step practice today, and I’m sure I can catch a ride with one of them if you want to go home. I know you have grading to get done.”

“I can wait here with you and the little guy. Grading can wait a little longer, and besides, I don’t want you catching a ride with either of ‘em as long as I’m here. I couldn’t live with myself if I knew I’d been responsible for another Janine car ride migraine.” Her lips perk up into a smile.

"I swear if I hear another lecture on the benefits of different colored highlighters, I’ll–"

“Mom!” Aspen squeals, getting out of his seat and running to his mother’s arms. She lays a soft kiss on his head.

“Hi, Aspen. How was school?” Dina’s eyes turn from his to yours. “Was he okay?”

You nod. “The little champ beat me in Kings in the Corner.”

“And I know how to shuffle now. So now I can help you when we play Uno.”

“Great job, honey. And I’m sure now you can help me beat Grandpa when he comes to visit next week.”

Aspen seemingly lights up brighter than before. “Grandpa’s coming? Yay!” He envelops her in a hug.

“Honey, why don’t you grab your things so I can talk to your mom?” Your eyes quickly glance at his belongings that sit on and around his desk. 

“I’ll give you two a minute.” Melissa moves towards Aspen. “I’ll help him get his things.”

“Thank you for everything. Really, you’re a lifesaver.” Dina lets a sigh leave her lips. “He’s really been doing great through this whole thing.”

“No disruptions, no problems. I wish I had his positive attitude all the time. And hey, don’t worry about it. I don’t mind getting beat at cards. He’s a smart kid.”

Dina smiles.

“I’m ready,” Aspen says. He walks up to meet his mother’s side, where she places a hand on his shoulder. “Mrs. Schemmenti?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“You’re gonna make a great mom one day,” his smile widens before he says his goodbyes to you and Melissa. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, kid. We’ll see ya,” Melissa adds. She turns to you. “Ready to go?”

“Mhm,” you grab your bag’s handle, but it’s quickly taken away from you when the older woman grabs it. “Melissa, I can carry my stuff.”

“I never said you couldn’t.” She smiles as you grab hold of her arm.

Walking out of Abbott, you both send smiles and your own goodbyes to a few colleagues. Your hand never strays from her arm, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“So what are you feeling like for dinner?” She asks.

“Are you asking because you feel like cooking, or are you asking me because you want to just order takeout?”

She chuckles. “I was actually asking because I could go for anything you wanted to cook.”

“Enchiladas, then.”

“Well, they’re your signature.” She places a kiss on your temple.

When you reach the car, she walks with you to the passenger’s side, opening the door for you. “My lady,” she smiles watching you take your seat. She hands you your bag, and closes the door.

You reach over to the door and pull the door handle for her. “Thank you, sweetie.”

“Anything for my girl,” you say. Her hand instinctively rests on your thigh as she starts the drive to your shared home. You move a hand to graze her arm.

“So,” Melissa starts up a new conversation when you hit upon a red light. “Aspen gave you a really nice compliment there, huh?”

“What?” You take a moment to think back. “Oh… yeah, he’s a really sweet kid. I hope you get to teach him next year. I mean he already loves you.”

Melissa turns the music up a bit, as your favorite song plays. While you’re jamming, she hums along, singing the words in her head. Unbeknownst to you, Melissa is thinking harder than she’d care to admit to about Aspen’s words. Had you given any thought to having a child of your own? She hasn’t expressed any interest in having a mini Melissa since she was younger, when her sister had her first baby.

As if the memory played out word for word, she remembers how crushed she was when, while holding her then baby nephew, Joe completely shut down the idea of growing their family. 

As if you know she needs a distraction of sorts, you speak up, taking her out of her thoughts. “Oh, honey, I think we need to stop at the grocery store. Is that okay with you?”

She nods and forces a smile for you.

– – – –

Melissa’s hand never leaves the small of your back while you push the cart. Along the journey of getting the ingredients necessary for your dinner, she looks around every aisle that you walk through. Almost finished with the aisle you two are currently in, you start your way towards the registers. As you wait in one of the lines, Melissa picks up bits of the couple’s conversation happening in front of her, talking about their excitement in welcoming their own bundle of joy in seven months. 

“Melissa?”

“Hm,” she turns her attention towards you.

“Is everything okay? You’ve been almost quiet since we left school. The only times I ever experience quiet Melissa is when you’re scheming. Well, that or you’re planning someone’s meeting with justice.”

“I’m fine, hon.” She places her hands on either side of your waist, and places a few light kisses on your temple. “I’m perfect.”

– – – –

“Amore,” she starts.

“Hm,” you hum, sipping your wine.

“Nothin’.”

“Baby,” you reach your hand and place it gently on her own. “What’s up?”

She has a glint in her eyes. One you’ve only seen two other times – when she was too nervous to ask you to be her girlfriend, and then again when she asked you to be her wife. By this, you know she has got something big on her mind.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, her voice not leaving a low tone. She focuses her attention on her plate, trying to collect her thoughts.

“Okay…” you start. “But I will. You have the look.”

“What look?” Her eyes bounce to you, now wide, awaiting your response.

“You’ve only ever looked at me twice like that before, and both times they were because you had something big to get off your chest. Now please…” You place your hand on her thigh. “What is it, Melissa?”

“You ever thought about maybe… I don’t know… it’s just us here. And sometimes I feel it. The… space.”

You stay silent, trying to piece together what she’s going on about. Was she getting sick of you? Was this marriage too much for her? She doesn’t skip a beat though. Her rambling is starting to sound like she is convincing herself of something, in hopes you’ll say what’s bothering her, so she doesn’t have to. That’s when in the midst of your spacing out, there is only one sentence that makes you freeze.

“Maybe an addition to us wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“You want to have a baby,” she can’t tell by your tone if you were stating it as if it were a fact, or rather forming it in a question. “Like… a baby.”

“No, wait, I didn’t say that,” her voice rises in pitch. “Per say.”

You wait a minute, in case she has more to say. “Okay…”

Crap! May day! May day! Retreat! Her thoughts tell her.

She downs the beer that is left in her bottle. Her hands grab for your plates and starts her way to the kitchen. “Just forget I said anything.”

“But, Melissa–”

“Please, just forget it, Y/n.”

– – – –

After dinner, you and Melissa snuggle up on the couch. Your face is nestled in her neck, giving soft kisses where you know she loves them. This would usually lead to you ravaging each other until the sunrise spills through your curtains. Tonight, however, doesn’t look like that is in the cards for you.

Your hand begins drawing patterns on her thigh, as you continue your kisses on her skin. “Your thoughts are loud tonight, my love.”

“Hon,” Melissa whispers, her voice almost impossible to hear over the television. As if on cue, the Dancing With the Stars theme sings for you. “Look, the show is starting.”

The rest of the night is much quieter than usual. Adding to your worry, Melissa doesn’t seem as enthusiastic about the episode as she usually is. There’s no yelling at the television, rarely a chuckle, and not even a snack to go with the episode.

As the episode ends, Melissa breathes a heavy sigh. “Ready for bed?”

You take a look at your phone which reads the time. “Yeah,” you say with simple directions. “Just… give me a minute and I’ll be up.”

She nods as she rises off the couch. She makes sure to place a gentle kiss on your cheek before heading upstairs.

At the sound of Melissa ascending the stairs, you quickly grab your phone. Opening your Contacts app, Barbara Howard’s phone number is already in view for you. With a second to think on a decision, a sigh leaves your lips, and the clicking of the power button shuts the device off.

Sleep on it. Whatever it is.

[estupidapendejaestupida]

My selkie Batfam AU! Where selkies are not only seals/aquatic animals, but can be other animals. Born with their pelt, and if they are separated from them since their birth it doesn’t really hurts them, but it makes them feel very empty, like they are missing something very, very important, but they don’t know why (kinda like Crack baby, by Mitski).

Bruce: lion (black) like his parents were.

Dick: wolf (grey)

Barbara: human

Jason: bear (brown)

Tim: human, but not really (lynx).

Stephanie: human

Damian: lion (brown) like Thalia.

Cass: tiger

Duke: human

Alfred: human

Who else should i have?

Ideas so far:

• Tim being mocked by Jason (during the attack at TT) and Damian (during his murder attemps) for being the only robin to be human. And btw, he isn’t living in the manor, he stays in The Nest.

• Damian being taught that he was bigger than his other soul and animal instincts, that if he wanted to be strong and worthy he had to control his animal soul and stop needing it or using it.

• I think I like the idea of Steph being a rat or something small like her mother, and her dad being all like “you useless fuck, ofc you had to be something weak and insignificant, you are weak just like your mother and blah blah blah”. Tell me what you think about it, and well make a decision together.

• Babs being human and not understanding selkie’s at all when she first began working with the bats, but then when she finds that B and Dick are both selkies she just becomes a master about their selkie cultures and habitats and how to treat with them and learns what to do and what not to do. So when another human of the pack needs help understanding one of the selkies, they ask for her help. Except Tim, tho. He kind of always got them at the first try… weird, huh?

• Alfred has to raise young selkie Bruce Wayne all alone after the Waynes' death, and as a human, he tried to teach him how to be a selkie. But a mere human is not really a good mentor for a selkie.

• Slade taking Dick’s pelt away when he was training him, and Dick suffering through feeling like half of his soul had been snatched from him. Feeling it so close, yet too far. And being forced to obey Slade’s every order, until he manages to take his pelt back and scape.

• Jason’s pelt getting burned in Ethiopia, and Bruce keeping it locked away, so when Jason comes back to life he is easier to manipulate by Thalia saying that Bruce threw away his pelt after he replaced him. And Jason blaming that on Tim when he attacks him on TT.

• SPOILER ALERT: Tim’s mom is a selkie, but since she got pregnant with Tim, she stayed as a human and hid her pelt away. She was hoping for Tim to be born completely human, and instead, he was born a selkie. She hid it from her husband, thinking that this way, taking his pelt since birth, he would grow to not need it and could live a normal life just like his human father. She did write a separate testament from his husband, way before she died, where she left a box for Tim. Inside the box is his pelt, and a letter explaining everything. Tim only gets to that box after she dies, and his dad enters a vegetative state after the accident overseas. The thing is that Tim never quite opens the box. He just leaves it somewhere well hidden in his old room at the Wayne manor. And since he never stays the night in his old room anymore, he just never got around to open it. One day, he will, tho.

Please tell me if I should keep this up? I already have a draft done, so if you guys like this idea, I'll publish it :3

I'll write many fics for every character, so it's not very 'one character centric'

[meracyn]

hi can you please write a one shot of kwon x fem! reader who has strict parents and one day kwon helps her escape her house to go with him? tysm if you do this!

TRAPPED || kwon jae-sung

a/n: ok guys by tomorrow im gonna be editing these posts and make them actually worth looking at, no lazing off this time 😭 but i like this idea actually. ive heard some songs that would relate to a scenario like this, whoever you are anon, ur a genius fr

The tension in your house was unbearable.

Your parents, being both professionals, always pushed you to meet their expectations. They barely gave you freedom, let alone make your own choices as you grew up.

It felt so suffocating, so tiring. You were so sure you would end up going crazy any day by now.

What kind of parents were so strict they always had to monitor every. single. thing of their child’s life?

Yours.

And that was why you couldn’t wait to escape.

The night was thick with silence, creating a heavy atmosphere. You laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling before turning your head to the side, where the window was.

The moon hung low in the sky— a soft, silvery glow adorning the rows of houses underneath. You got up slowly, careful not to wake your parents. The walls were pretty thin, which only made it more difficult for you to have privacy, as they could hear almost every little thing you would do.

As you got closer, you opened it. The cool, chilly air embracing your body as the breeze played with your hair.

Outside your window, the world was silent. The leaves swayed gently on the trees, the streetlights being dim and faint in the distance, barely cutting through the darkness.

You began to think. About your future, your parents, and your boyfriend,

Kwon Jae-Sung.

It seemed impossible to get into a relationship due to your overbearing parents, but you managed somehow, and haven’t gotten caught so far– which made it the perfect reason to leave.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the rush of adrenaline clashing with the quiet serenity of the night. Would it be worth the risk? Leave behind your future, your goals, everything just for some silly romance?

Every step you took felt like glass so fragile, that with one little mistake, would break.

You focused again on the scenery outside, just beyond the houses, staring at the open gate in front of you. So close, yet so far away at the same time.

The night seemed to be endless, full of possibilities—if you just took another step.

And you did.

Cautiously going back to your bed, you picked up your phone, just as you received a new message—it was him.

I’m outside. Can you get out on your own or need help?

Stay there. Your fingers quickly tapped the screen. I can manage

This was it. There was no turning back now.

Grabbing your bag and shoes on, you took a deep breath and began to climb out the window, heartbeat pounding in your ears with each movement you took. You held onto a nearby tree before stepping down, finally touching the ground.

Without bothering to look back, you ran away.

Kwon was standing outside of the car, a smile forming on his face as he noticed you.

“You made it,” He said softly, holding onto your hand as he pressed his forehead against yours.

You nodded, trying to catch your breath. “I don’t know what the hell is going to happen now,” You blurted out, having mixed feelings between anxiety and excitement.

“I told you I’d get you out. ” He whispered, pulling away just enough to meet your eyes. “And I will.”

As you both got in the car, Kwon started the engine, driving away. You looked back at your house one last time.

For the first time in years, you finally felt free.