#consideration with no more than two seconds of thought put into it so don't take me seriously at all:

[eternalsams]

Call Me Daddy ⇴ J.Seresin

pairing: Jake Seresin x single mom!reader

warning/content: fluff, kids shenanigans, Jake being so good with a kid, Jake being Jake, tiny innuendos (blink and you miss it), reader's daughter's name is Lila

summary: When your daughter mistaken Jake for her father, you're more than embarrassed. That until she tells you why she called him that.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: English isn't my first language so please take that into consideration.

masterlist

What would be better for his quiet alone night in his little apartment? Canned green beans or canned lenses? Why not take both and choose back at home? Jake sighed and dropped the two cans in his shopping cart. The earbuds in his ears blasting music to shut off the noise around him and his fingertips drumming the rhythm against his thigh. He could hear people walking behind him and sometimes complaining about how much space he was taking in the aisle. But he really couldn't care less. He went back to the main aisle and walked past the cookie section, stopping in his tracks and eying the sweet aisle. He grimaced and looked down at his shopping cart, he's been forcing himself to keep a healthier diet when he noticed he gained a few extra pounds the last few months. He softly groaned as he let his inner thoughts win and walk in the cookie aisle.

He tried to ignore the full chocolate ones and kept walking to the more 'healthy' ones. He picked a box and tried not to stare at the numerous calories at the back. "Come on, baby. We already have those cookies at home." A feminine voice came from the other side of the aisle. Jake turned to the voice and completely forgot about his cookies when he noticed something way sweeter. He could tell you were exhausted by the small bags under your eyes but other than that, you took great care of yourself, probably to hide the real fatigue from the others. You were trying to reason with a little girl, not older than 6 from what he knew of kids, and Jake could tell she was your daughter. She was practically your clone with how much she looked like you. Jake mindlessly dropped the cookie box into his cart and the little girl's attention was on him in a second. But all could Jake see was the pleading look in your eyes as you tried to convince your daughter she didn't need the dinosaur shaped cookies. His eyes staring at you might have discouraged your daughter because she put the box back onto the aisle and grabbed your hand silently.

Jake blinked a few times as you left the cookie section to keep going with your shopping and only then he noticed the little girl's eyes staring at him. He softly waved at her with a smile and her rosy lips stretched with a grin. Jake scoffed and decided it was enough cookies for now and looked a last time to his hand-written shopping list. He didn't see you again for the rest of his errands, that until he felt a light tap on his arm. He turned around and looked down at the little girl he saw earlier. He paused the music in his earbuds and smiled at the girl. "Hey, where's your mom? Did you get lost?" He asked as knelt down, starting to look around them. "Are you my daddy?" She asked him and he felt his neck crack as he abruptly looked back at her. "What? No-" He laughed nervously, not knowing where this was coming from. "Lila? Lila!" Your voice called and jake could see you running to them, crouching down to take your daughter in your arms. "What did I tell you? Keep your hands on the cart and stay around me." You said sternly and Jake stood back on his feet, rubbing his neck. You took the little girl's hand in yours and looked up at Jake with an apologetic and yet suspicious look. "I'm sorry, she usually don't wander about when shopping." You said and Jake nodded with a smile. "No harms done."

"Is that my daddy?" Lila asked, looking between you and the tall stranger. Your eyes widened and you glared at your daughter as Jake scoffed, finding the situation way funnier than he should. "Lila! He's not- I'm sorry, sir." You apologized once more and Jake chuckled. "It's alright, really. She's a cute kid." He desperately tried to make conversation but he knew nothing about you. Except for your daughter. "She is, usually. But she's never done that to any man, that's weird." You said more to yourself than to him. "Well, I'm flattered." Jake smiled and you nervously chuckled. "I'm Jake." he introduced himself, freeing one of his hands to shake yours. You told him your name with a shy smile and looked down at your daughter. "Well, Jake. It was nice meeting you but I've got a dinner to get." You started to walk back and Jake felt the need to stay close to you but didn't do anything. He so wanted to ask for your number or something but he didn't even know if you were single. He knew Lila's dad wasn't in the picture, because why else would she have called him 'daddy'? But maybe you had a husband waiting for you at home, Lila's step-dad. He sighed when you went out of sight and grumbled something under his breath before opening his music app and clicking on the play button.

When you parked your car in your alley, Lila unbuckled her seatbelt but you stayed in your seat. "Mum we're home." She leaned over to your seat, waiting for you to get out and open her door. "I know, baby. I know." You blinked a few times, thinking about your meeting with Jake. That was new. It had been years since a man caught your attention. Jake had been really nice to Lila from what you saw and really nice to you too. You kicked yourself mentally for not asking for his number. You really lost all your flirting techniques.

A few hours later, you called Lila for dinner and she came running to the kitchen, already dressed in her pj's. You kissed her head when you put her plate in front of her and took your seat in front of her. "Baby, why did you think the man from the store was your daddy?" You asked between two bites. Lila didn't even wait to swallow her food and started answering. "Not with your mouth full please, baby." You leaned over the table and wiped her mouth with a napkin. She loudly swallowed her vegetables and clumsily put down her fork. "It's because of Ethan." She said and you frowned. You knew of Ethan, he was one of Lila's friend from school. "What did Ethan said?" You got curious. "He said his parents look at each other like we look at jewels. He said that one time his daddy watched his mom like she was a princess." Lila smiled and you started to realize what she meant. "So when you asked Jake if he was your daddy-" You started before she cut you off with a grin on her face. "He was watching you like you were a princess." She giggled, putting her little hands in front of her mouth.

You huffed and leaned back into your chair, not believing your ears. When Lila finished her dinner, you sent her to brush her teeth and go to bed, not without a complain from her. And when you were sure she was asleep, you grabbed your laptop and opened the few social medias you had. Jake. You tried looking through possible mutual friends, but nothing. From the local companies accounts, still nothing. You stayed up way later than you'd ever admit looking for this man but it was like he never existed. At least on the internet. Than you remembered the kind of supplies he had in his cart. You also noticed how firm his whole body looked and you looked up the local gym. You looked through the different posts, videos, photos, anything. And then you found him. His back was facing the camera and he was wearing a black tank top and a backward cap, but you could recognize those shoulders anywhere now. You hoped for a linked account in the caption but it seemed he didn't have one. Though you had his name and function. Lieutenant Jake Seresin.

A few days passed without having any sign from Jake. You almost went to the groceries when Lila was at school, hoping to meet him again but you decided against it. You had no idea how to get in contact with this man. Hell, you didn't even know if he was single, but you needed to know. You looked at your watch and noticed you still had a few hours before leaving to pick up Lila from school. You changed into some comfortable sweats and a lose shirt before grabbing your keys and leaving for a quick jogging. You tried your best to suppress any thought concerning Jake and focused on your breathing before you could get a side ache. Your eyes even started tricking you as you started seeing Jake's face to every blond, tall men you saw. You shook your head to the first one and ignored the next ones. Then someone called your name.

You turned to the voice and your eyes widened when you recognized Jake. The real Jake. "Oh, hi, Jake right?" You tried to play innocent, not like you tried to stalk him. He smiled at you and caught his breath, him too seemingly on his run day. "Yeah, from the grocery store, you remember me!" You chuckled at that, if he only knew. "Yeah, yeah I remember you. Hard to forget your daughter's dad." What the shit? You smacked yourself internally and giggled nervously when he laughed. "I never thought I'd see a kid walking to me and ask if I'm their daddy." He smiled even more, how was that even possible? "It's nice to see you again." You said, trying not to look at his bulging biceps peeking out from his shirt. "It's nice to see you too. I um... I wanted to ask for your number the other ay but I didn't know if that was appropriate." He said, taking his phone out of his pocket, hoping dearly he wasn't reading this wrong. "That's really not inappropriate." You chuckled and took his phone when he gave it to you, entering your phone number into his contacts. "So... No step-dad for Lila?" He dared ask and you looked up at him with a shy smile. "No, no step-dad. It's been a rough few years for mom so, no time for meeting step-dad." You playfully said as you gave him his phone back.

"I hope mommy won't be too hard on me then." He boldly said with a cocky smile. Your breath got caught in your throat and you felt yourself blushing at his words. "I'm sure she'll be great if you don't misbehave." A boldness you didn't know took over your body and had you say those words, getting you to blush even more. Jake didn't seem to mind one bit as he laughed and looked down at his feet for a moment. "Do you think I could ask you out for dinner?" He then asked, looking back at you. "I'd love to, but I don't really like leaving Lila with a babysitter, I'm a bit of a mother hen." You said. You were a bit sad that could discourage Jake but your daughter would always come first. "No problem! I can come over and cook you two dinner, what do you say?" He smiled at you and you felt your heart flutter with affection. "I'm sure Lila would love that." You told him. "And what about you? Would you like that?" He took a step closer to you, now standing in your personal space. "I would love that." You smiled at him.

taglist: @senawashere @hardballoonlove @blue-aconite @iliketopgun @callsign-hummingbird @roosterforme @jessicab1991 @atarmychick007 @hangmansgbaby @callsigns-haze

@els-marvelvsp @averagewriter-inthedark @theglenaissance @hangmanforever @goldenseresinretriever @djs8891 @callsign-magnolia

[havecouraqe]

Reconnection

Pairing: Go Hyuntak x fem!reader

Summary: Having known of Hyuntak from his training days of Tae Kwon Do, you never thought you'd run into him again. What started as admiration from afar quickly turned into the beginning of something more.

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Part 1 ☆ Part 2

Hyuntak first glanced down at your hand over his and you quickly backtracked, so he turned to face you properly, waiting for you to say something. Droplets of water fell from the front of his hair, and for a moment, you lost your train of thought, his handsome face captivating you for a second.

"Why don't you stay?" You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, nervously playing with your hands. "Just until the rain clears."

He didn't need to be told twice. You felt him pet your head again, and he smiled at you. "Okay."

You smiled back, relieved that he wouldn't have to go out into the rain again or leave so soon if you were being honest.

"I'll get us some towels. Come on in."

You kicked off your shoes and made your way to the bathroom cabinet where you kept the clean towels. You grabbed two and debated on whether or not to have him take a warm shower or just offer him some of your father's clothes while you put his in the dryer. When you came back, Hyuntak was looking at some family photos above the fireplace.

"Those are pretty old," you stated. "It's just me and my dad now. He's away on business and won't be back for a few days."

Offering him the towel, he took it, and to your surprise, covered your head with it. "Hey." You couldn't help but giggle as he playfully dried your hair, making it more of a mess than it already was. He settled the towel around the nape of your neck, looking down at you, a smile plastered on his face.

"You should take a warm bath." He said after a moment, taking the dry towel from your hands and working it through his hair.

"Don't you want to go first? I can bring you some fresh clothes."

"I'm fine. I've been through worse." Hearing how that sounded, he quickly added, "I'll take the new set of clothes, though."

You went to go find some extra sweats and t-shirts your father had, hoping they would fit. Hyuntak was taller and leaner than him. It's been a while since you were in your father's room, but you quickly found a pair of black sweatpants and a simple gray t-shirt. When you got back, Hyuntak held a new packet of underwear and socks he must have bought from the convenience store.

"Thanks." He said when you handed him the clothes. "I'll be quick."

You watched him as he went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Not letting your mind wander, you decided to keep yourself busy and clean the wet floor you both made. Afterward, you took out the other items he had bought from the bag. Medicine, more hand warmer pouches, and some sweets. You felt butterflies at his consideration.

It wasn't long when he emerged from the bathroom. The sweatpants fit him a bit too small, a few inches above his ankles showing, and the shirt was fit enough to show off his toned physique. Your eyes wandered to his hair, which was partially air dried, the front still looking a bit damp. Finally, you looked at his face, and you could have sworn he smirked at you.

"Your turn." He stated, breaking you of your trance.

Right. You nodded, setting the items down and going to gather your things for your shower.

◇

Hyuntak sat on your couch, hearing the shower begin to run. He felt much better knowing the hot water would be a nice contrast to the coldness you both had to endure. He got up and went into the kitchen to make something warm for the both of you. A quick look into your cabinets told him you weren't a fan of coffee. He found a can of hot chocolate and proceeded to look for two mugs.

As he waited for water to boil on the stove, he leaned his head back and sighed. What am I doing? He thought.

First, he offered to walk you home, and now he's at your house. If he wanted to keep you safe, it was best that he stayed away from you. He saw what happened with Baku and Baekjin. He went after the people he cared about most and almost got them all killed. Geom Seongje was still out there somewhere, so was he really willing to risk it with you?

She's safe with me.

That's what he told himself at least. That and the fact that he didn't want to be away from you. He wanted to be near you, to hear about your day and figure out what kind of person you were. Your likes and dislikes. Everything. Seeing you blush because of him was more than he could hope for.

Turning off the stove, he was careful not to spill the hot water as he poured it into the mugs. The aroma of the chocolate filled the air, and the steam of the drink felt good against his face. He set aside the drinks to cool and crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter. Closing his eyes, Hyuntak thought back to the first time he met you three years ago.

Sometimes, his training days would include going to different Tae Kwon Do studios after school. Because he had already been building up his reputation as an elite athlete, the other kids would freak out, trying to ask him questions or get an autograph. He was always told to just focus on his sparring and technique, not paying any mind to the other students.

As he was leaving practice that day, he noticed you in your own corner. You were trying to get the spinning hook kick down, unable to hit the mark your mentor held in place. He could tell you were frustrated, but your determination did not go unnoticed. He looked back at his team, telling them he would be right back.

Setting his duffle bag down, he stood behind you, trying to see your approach to the move.

"You're kicking too early." He said.

When you turned around, eyes meeting his, he began to feel different. Heat rose to his face, and his heart seemed to beat faster than normal, even after the cool down from his training. Taking in your pretty face, you looked to be about the same age. Your chocolate brown eyes widened, and he realized that he was the last person you'd expect to see.

Clearing his throat, he went on with his instructions. "Keep the kick small and not too wide, then hook at the last minute. Like this." He stepped away enough to show you how.

You slowly nodded your head, resuming your stance. He saw you take a deep breath and then go for it. The top of your foot hit its target with success. As the class cheered, you gave a short laugh of disbelief, grinning. He chuckled and clapped for you, too, enjoying the happiness radiating off of you.

"Thank you." You smiled, turning to bow at him before introducing yourself. "I'm y/n."

He bowed back. "I'm-"

"Hyuntak."

Opening his eyes, he turned around to see you standing in the living room. Your long black hair was tied up in a bun at the top of your head. He's only ever seen you in your uniform, both for school and Tae Kwon Do. Now you wore an oversized pink sweatshirt and matching sweatpants to go with it. You looked adorable.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, grabbing the mugs and walking towards you. Settling down on the floor and crossing his legs, he offered you one of the mugs.

Taking it, he tried not to show nerves as you sat down next to him, your shoulder brushing against his. "I'm better now, thanks."

Hyuntak watched as you took a sip, being careful not to burn yourself with the liquid. You sighed in satisfaction, licking your lips of the remaining trace. Not realizing he was staring a bit too long, you looked at him quizzically.

"What?"

"You're really cute." He smiled.

Heat rose to your face, and you turned away, your eyes landing on the hot chocolate. Hyuntak wasn't trying to embarrass you. He was simply stating a fact. A pretty face like yours was hard to forget, and he always looked forward to the day when he would see you again. It was quiet for a minute until you spoke up.

"What did you mean when you said 'it does now' two days ago," you said quietly, still not facing him. "You said that after the blonde guy told you the situation had nothing to do with you."

"Ah," He scoffed, annoyance crossing his features. "That idiot."

If it hadn't been for the other bully running after you, he would have killed him. He had managed to get a few good hits, but his blood still boils in anger when he thinks of the potential hurt he could have caused you. Hyuntak takes a breath, trying not to think about it.

Setting his drink down, he turned towards you. His hand gently came up to your chin, slowly making you face him. Your eyes told him you were anxious of what he might say next, so he tried to choose his next words carefully.

"Do you remember when we met?"

You nodded.

"You reminded me of what it was like to never give up. You were so determined to get the kick right, but one can only do so much alone. Sometimes, all it takes is a little help." The back of his thumb gently caressed your cheek.

"Now, as awesome as it was seeing you hit the guy in the balls," you both laughed at his choice of words, "you have to know that whenever you need help, that will include me. I want to be there for you."

He said it with such intensity, looking into your eyes, that you couldn't help but take his words for it. Who were you to not believe him? He watched as you placed your hand over his, taking it but still holding it against your face. Not letting it go, you held on as you said, "I want to be there for you, too."

Anticipation hung in the air, neither of you breaking eye contact. He could feel electricity run through his body at the touch of your hand, his heart beating fast at your words. Your hand felt warm, and he wondered if the callous on his bothered you. He also hadn't noticed you both had leaned towards each other until the sound of his ringtone caused the two of you to quickly move away.

Checking the caller i.d, it was Baku.

Hyuntak looked at you, "I'm sorry. I should probably take this."

"It's okay." You shook your head, leaning back and taking another sip of your drink.

He answered the call, trying to hide his irritation at his best friend's bad timing. "Hello?"

"Hey! The rain cleared up. We're at the basketball court and need you."

Looking at the time, he figured it was a good time as any to let you go about the rest of your day. He already inconvenienced you for about an hour.

"Okay, I'll be there soon." He hung up and turned to you. "I gotta go."

You watched him as he quickly downed the hot chocolate and set the mug on the table. He was confused when he saw you get up to leave, thinking he's upset you. Then you returned with his now dry clothes neatly folded atop one another.

"Thanks." He smiled. Shoving everything except his hoodie into his backpack, he made sure he had all his belongings before making his way to the front door. You followed, your arms crossed against your chest.

As he was shrugging into his hoodie, he asked you, "Are you okay with me walking you home again tomorrow?"

"Sure." You blushed. The rosy color on your cheeks made him smile. Slinging his backpack over his shoulders, he stepped down into the entrance and started putting on his sneakers one at a time.

"Also, I was thinking. How about you and I don't leave our next encounter to fate, hm?"

You arched a brow, "What do you mean?"

Hyuntak took out his phone and handed it over to you. Hesitating for a brief moment, you took his phone and typed in your contact info. You handed it back. His eyes flickered at you from under his eyelashes, pressing the call button on his phone. Your ringtone filled the house, and you scrambled to turn it off.

"Good to know it's not a bogus number." He laughed to himself at a memory.

You were puzzled at his words but decided it was better not to ask.

"I'll see you tomorrow then." He smiled, taking one last look at you before reaching for the door.

"See you tomorrow." You breathed, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach from earlier returning.

A/N: I should have mentioned this in the beginning, but I always pictured the story happening a few months after the events of whc2. The rest of the boys will appear again soon :)

Song i listened to while writing this is One and Only by Adele <3

Tagging a few people below. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Thanks for reading!

@l5byrinth , @hollxe1 , @snowflakemoon3

Update: Part 4

[enkvyu]

7:02pm — gojo satoru ; part two to this imagine

"gojo, your hair is in my mouth."

"you're lucky i washed it a few days ago."

you peer up at him over your phone. "a few days? how many? gojo, tell me."

gojo hums to himself and you hate that it might be serious consideration that he's under. "like maybe seven?"

you gag, flailing at your mouth and spitting out the few strands. you faintly hear gojo complain but it's overridden as you deal with your dilemma.

the two of you were curled inside the stomach of one of getou's curses as it flew across the ocean to arrive back at jujutsu high. the cramped space and gooey flesh makes you shiver, effectively increasing your poor mood, but perhaps the biggest detriment was the person you were stuck with.

sure, public transport was a viable option but yaga had specifically emphasised on the "top-secret" and "classified" written in big bold red letters on the mission file. this meant no one was to know, not ordinary people, not curses and not even other sorcerers.

granted, the school had access to one private jet which they were willing to offer, but that jet only had space for one.

the three of you had sat down and played a game of scissors paper rock to determine who takes it, and while you were lucky to win it for the trip forward, getou ends up victorious for the way back.

and now, you were stuck in close proximity with gojo inside the gut of a flying dragon.

"why are you in such a bad mood anyway?" gojo has the audacity to ask, as if he wasn't the sole reason why you were uncomfortable. you keep your mouth shut though, nothing good will come out of admitting your undying, and unfortunately unrequited, love for him.

"i'm in a perfectly fine mood."

"why do you look like that then, all constipated and everything? did you not go to the bathroom before we left?"

you curl your fingers into a fist and punch him in the chest. it hits his uniform, smearing some of the curses' stomach juice. "of course i did! i'm not a newbie sorcerer."

"ouch!"

"that didn't hurt you."

"how are you going to tell me how i feel?" gojo jabs back. "because it did hurt, it hurt my feelings."

"oh boohoo."

"so you are mad."

you bite your lip and turn away, finding the abdominal wall of the beast easier on the eyes than your own friend. "i'm not."

"you're sulking."

"i'm not." you hiss before taking in a deep breath. "look gojo, can we just stay quiet until we get there?"

gojo keeps staring at you through his glasses and his face fails to give his thoughts away. the suspense is killing you, but before you can relent and ask what he has to say, he clears his throat.

"i have something to tell you."

you sigh, rubbing at your head. "what is it?"

"wait, don't turn around and keeping looking at the wall. hey, what did i just say?"

"gojo, the view isn't really the best to sightsee. why can't i look at you?"

"because if you do, i don't think i can tell you after all."

you close your mouth. "is it that serious?"

"yeah." he clears his throat again, adjusting the collar of his uniform. "look, i know you've been weird around me the past few days and i don’t think it’s because i stretched out your uniform when i wore it last weekend. i don't know why you’re being mean to me, and shoko and getou won't tell me either."

you resist the urge to look at him. "you're having this kind of talk with me now? here? seriously?"

"you won't even stay in the same room as me for more than a few minutes! getou may call this curse his bad-luck curse but for me right now it's the only way to get you to listen to me." he stays quiet for a few seconds. "this is really serious, okay, so don't make any comments. i know you're practically brimming with them."

it was true you had a lot to say, but gojo's serious attitude was putting you off. still, having him call you out made you more aggravated and you let one slip. "well, this is really bad-luck for me."

gojo clicks his tongue and you can see the irritation on his face before his words are even coloured with it. "i'm not telling you this so you can feel the same way but—"

the curse suddenly tilts to the side, throwing you into gojo as the four walls of its stomach becomes a wheel, rotating you around. you yelp as your forehead hits him hard in the chest, tears springing to your eyes at the pain.

“what’s going on?”

the two of you spin round and round, and you can't distinguish your screams from gojo's as gravity plays you like a toy, throwing you around.

the movement makes you sick. "gojo, do something! blast it!"

"getou'll get mad if i kill another one of his curses!"

"are you kidding, we're going to die!"

gojo swears, grabbing you around the waist and pulling you into his chest. with his other arm, he holds out his hand and presses it on the flesh.

you tuck your chin in, squeezing your eyes shut when you realise he hadn't started chanting his technique. "what are you doing?" you look up at him and find him staring at the exit of the stomach through all the goo and chaos.

with a trembling finger, he points to it. you stare into the abyss, squinting your eyes to make out its indistinct shapes. what was that pulsing thing, attached to the side? and was it just you, but was it getting bigger?

with a start, you realise that the curse was about to throw up. and coincidentally, so were you.

"it's going to throw us up!" you share your realisation with gojo but the look on his face tells you he already arrived at the same thought.

he opens his mouth to say something, or scream you're not too sure as the walls of the stomach contracts. distantly, you feel gojo slide his other arm around you and his infinity takes over, shielding the two of you as you're forcefully ejected from the curse's mouth.

a scream escapes your throat as you escape the curse's, wind rushing through your ears. gojo swears again, bringing his arm up to protect your head.

you only know you're safe when you feel air again, the real kind, not the gas built up in the curse's stomach. a thud tells you gojo has landed on solid ground again and you've never felt more grateful to be alive, your entire body relaxing as your soul leaves.

gojo sighs with you, his hold slightly loosening.

getou watches as you're spat out, stepping out of the private jet with a big smile on his face. "you guys look rough."

you feel gojo tense his jaw rather than see it. "what was that for?"

getou shrugs, throwing a bag over his shoulder. he starts digging through it. "i told you that curse is some serious bad-luck. at least you both arrived in one piece.” he looks up and raises an eyebrow at you. “literally in one piece, are you guys going to stay like that forever?"

your mind slowly pieces together your position, still curled up in gojo's arms as he is sat on the pavement, before you leapt out. gojo makes no move to stop you, though you think he might have tsked.

"here, this is for you." getou finally pulls out what he was searching for from his bag and throws it at the two of you.

you catch it instinctively, studying the object in your hand. "a can of soda?"

"for surviving."

"that curse of yours is a safety hazard." you mutter, but accept the can. you crack open the lid and tilt your head back, taking a long, cool sip.

gojo stares down at the drink. "i told you i don't like this flavour!" he complains and you roll your eyes at his antics.

"then don't drink it."

"no. give me your one instead."

getou pauses, halfway to opening his own iced coffee. "huh? i got this for me. and you don't even like coffee! you should be glad i even got one for you in the first place."

"let's play a game of rock paper scissors to decide who gets it."

"no. i just told you i got this for me."

gojo stands up, taking a step forward menacingly. "huh? after what you put me through, you think i'm just going to take no for an answer?"

getou's eyes flicker to yours before he takes up gojo's challenge, activating his cursed technique. black liquid opens up the air beside him, a peering red eye on the other side. "can't handle rejection, gojo? because you better get used to it."

you take another sip as you watch the boys, absentmindedly wiping at a stain on your sleeve. you remember the feeling of gojo's arm around your body and you blush despite yourself.

"are you feeling sick?"

you look up to see that gojo had stopped fighting with getou, his entire attention on you.

"huh?"

"you're red in the face. you look like a tomato."

ignoring the last part, you hide your face behind your drink. "i'm fine."

getou looks between the two of you and there's a glint in his eyes that you've seen before, one that you've grown to dread.

he throws back the rest of his coffee, grimacing as it gives him a slight brain freeze, before crushing the can in his hand. gojo mutters a quick, "show off" that he ignores, instead chucking the can into a bin a few metres away.

"what a time." he starts saying, the words static. "that was great. well, now that i've finished my drink, i should head back inside."

“i should head in too. i smell real bad.” you sigh and give gojo a glare when he agrees.

“actually, can the two of you stay here? i think my curse isn’t feeling too well after eating you two. just until i come back, okay?”

you think there might be an ulterior motive but glancing over at the curse, you find that it did look greener than before.

"where are you going, and for how long?" you ask and hope the look in your eyes will make him stay.

"i need to tell yaga we finished the mission. you guys can just stay here, i've got it." then to you, he says, clenching his fist in support, "you got this."

you want to break his arm.

getou hurries away despite your silent plea, leaving you in an awkward silence with the one person you wanted to avoid most. you take multiple quick sips to busy yourself, but you can’t ignore the person standing by your side.

gojo shifts his balance to his other foot and the sound of his shoe against the pavement breaks the silence. "so."

"so."

"it's really bright, huh."

"you're wearing sunglasses."

"and do they completely cover my eyes? no they don't. i can still complain about the sun."

"just push your glasses up then."

"no." gojo huffs. "i look cooler this way."

"who told you that? because i know for a fact it wasn't anyone whose opinion actually matters." you jab back.

"your mum said that, actually."

"are you a child?"

"what, are you too cool for old jokes? they're iconic for a reason."

"and there's a reason why 'your mum jokes' died and should stay that way."

the natural way in which you banter with gojo gives you confidence. maybe it didn't matter that you liked him, or that he didn't like you back. it was enough that he was here with you now, joking around. perhaps you could even live with knowing that your unrequited love had come to an end, perhaps you could even pair them up yourself without a sense of bitter jealousy.

"i know you like getou." gojo says in one breath.

the peace you had come to, shatters.

"what?" you say in an inhale, and it comes out sounding weird.

gojo pouts, crossing his arms. "i'm right, aren't i? you like getou. i heard what you were saying to shoko that one time."

"don't eavesdrop on other people's conversations!"

"you were saying it pretty loudly, what was i meant to do? shut my ears?"

you wave away his whining. "stop, hold on. you think i like getou?"

gojo nods. "i don't think you do, i know. you said you like people like him."

"when did i ever say that? also, i'm not the one who likes getou, you are!"

"what?"

"what, what? you do, don't you? you told me yesterday that you liked getou."

"i never said that!"

"then who were you talking about?"

"who were you thinking about?" gojo shoots back. "because you didn't even hesitate when you explained your type to shoko. you were thinking of someone, weren't you?"

you gulp. "i asked first."

he looks at you long and hard and you stare back at your reflection through his glasses. his mouth opens and there's a mixed sense of dread and anticipation brewing in your stomach.

"tch."

"did you just click your tongue at me?"

gojo faces away. his jaw is tense as he blatantly ignores your question. "you're really annoying."

"huh? speak for yourself!"

"you have a problem with me?"

"i have a problem with your stupid attitude."

when gojo closes the distance between the two of you, you take a step back out of instinct. it doesn't matter though because gojo steps forward again, pushing you up against the curse getou had left behind. he slams a hand into the flesh of the curse and it makes a startled sound. the both of you ignore it. "it's you, idiot, i like—"

the force behind his slam is frightening, but the thought is torn from you when the sound of regurgitation grabs your attention. with a start, you turn around at the curse and find your phone on the ground at the entrance of the curse's mouth, covered in goo.

"my phone!" you exclaim, bending down to pick it up.

gojo backs up and groans loudly, but you don't care, wincing instead when the item is sticky.

"i didn't even know i lost this! thanks gojo, i think." your voice trails off wearily, holding up the phone and watching as viscous liquid slowly drips off it.

gojo rubs his face with his palm and you wonder why he looks so distressed. "that curse is seriously bad luck." meeting your eye, he points a finger at you. "listen to what i have to say!"

you raise your eyebrow at him. "damn okay, gojo's arrived." you mutter, wiping down the phone and pocketing it.

the clouds overhead parts, sunlight shining down in rays. the trees whistle in the summer breeze and light filters through the gaps in the leaves and branches. it hits gojo perfectly, adorning him in a golden light and you've never seen him so beautiful. guilt fills you at the thought and you hold your soda tighter.

he breathes in one more time. "i don't care that you like getou." he says. "because it doesn't matter to me. it just means i have to work harder to change your mind and get you to notice me instead."

"it's kind of hard to not notice you." you say. "i mean, look at what you're wearing."

gojo hisses. "don't ruin the mood, you're throwing me off. like i was saying, it's not your fault you like getou but i had to tell you this anyway, because it's been making my heart feel all prickly and stuff. so shut up and just stand there looking pretty, or whatever." his last few words trail off uncertainly, as if he never intended to say them at all.

"what are you even saying?" your heart picks up. was he about to confess?

"i'm saying that i think i like—"

"there you guys are!"

your head whips around at the voice, scanning the familiar landscape before settling on a single person. shoko stands metres away, waving a hand to grab your attention. "over here!"

"shoko!" a grin splits across your face. "i haven't seen you all day!"

"am i interrupting something?" she yells to get her voice across the distance.

you don't even look over at gojo as you shake your head. you had a feeling he was just going to tell you something you already knew, that he liked getou, anyway. “no! hold on, i'm coming over."

before you can run up to her, gojo grabs your arm, a deep frown etched on his face. "wait, you still haven't—!"

without another thought, you hand him your half-finished can of soda and wriggle out of his hold. "you can have the rest of that. i'll hear you out later, okay?"

"but the mood was so right!"

"look after the curse until getou’s back, later!"

gojo stands there in front of the bad-luck curse, one arm limp by his side and the other holding a can of blue soda. he watches as you fling yourself into shoko's arm, already listing all the things you've been saving up to tell her.

there's that prickly feeling again, gojo realises, noting the way the sun lightens the shade of your hair, the way your eyes curve up as you smile, and the way you hold onto shoko's hand, wishing that he had enough courage to hold yours.

defeated, battered and drained, gojo looks down at the can in his hand, and notes the slight lipstick stain on the rim.

with a red on his cheeks that didn't come from the sun, he presses the aluminium to his lips and takes a sip. it tastes sweet.

gojo decides that he'll just have to settle for this.

i hope this was okay considering i had no intentions of writing a part two. sorry for all the descriptions of stomachs and throw up, i was studying the digestive system 👎 if this isn’t what u guys expected feel free to leave a request !!

[yayll]

~ a little something about Beast Dazai and his inability to let you go ~

Your hand trembles as you're about to knock on the massive office doors and you wonder if you're about to make the biggest mistake of your life.

You got too close working for this terribly lonely man, and now you're knocking at his door with the only solution you can think of to put an end to your silly infatuations that have gone on for longer than you'd want to admit and can possibly handle. You open the door slowly, and walk into the elegant and massive office space, your eyes falling right onto the dark haired man in all black hunched over the desk, scribbling away as if he didn't hear you come in. You walk quietly, and when you reach the wooden desk, your voice comes out soft and firm.

"Dazai, sir? I wanted to speak to you about something sensitive, if I may."

You chew on the corner of your bottom lip, but quickly compose yourself when you see the face of the man you've spent so much time with, the unfortunate love of your life. if it weren't for his Maroon scarf, he'd look like nothing but a black void. A burnt Black cat. He looks up, narrowed eyes scan you as he takes a sip of his tea, replying in a monotonous tone.

"What is it?"

"After much consideration, I think.. I need to leave the Port Mafia. We've worked together for quite a while now, and I can assure you it's not about the quality or enjoyment of my work. You don't even have to acknowledge this beyond me simply saying it, I just have to confess something that makes my heart ache. You make my heart ache. I know how unprofessional that sounds and that you have no use for such affections, but I can't keep pretending. It's why I think it's time for me to move onto something else otherwise my work will become disrupt-"

A lifted finger is shoved into your face, signaling you to stop, and so you do. Of course you do. You always had a habit of word vomiting when you were anxious. Dazai is staring down at his tea, and he stays quiet for a long time, trying to pick what emotion he can mask his real outraged ones with. Finally, he flashes you an unbothered look, his eyes half lidded as they taunt you. A cruel smirk curls onto his lips.

"Oh? What an awful time for your honesty! I'm currently drowning in work and responsibilities, ones that you're supposed to aid me with, actually. Thus, I have no use for your confession." He simply says.

You can feel a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. You expected this. Looking down at your shoes, you chew on your lip again.

"I had to tell you.. Like I said, you can just forget about it."

"Well you see, that's the problem. I can't forget it. The moment you uttered those nasty little words to me, I realized I have to carry the weight of finding a new secretary. And I resent that."

He looks away for a brief second, his words are bitter and laced with what sounds like remorse and irritation.

You cross your arms and sigh, your voice comes out lower than your confidence.

"I just thought that we were... I suppose I should have never dared to assume you'd ever see me as more than a-"

He instantly leans over his desk, now placing a finger on your lip, his voice just above a whisper.

"... And though these feelings you have for me may be inconvenient, it doesn't mean that they're unwelcome."

He lets his finger rest on your lips for just a second too long, meanwhile you're frozen in place feeling like your chest is going to collapse in on itself. His voice becomes softer.

"Sit, please."

You sit down, now facing each other. It's quiet for a few moments as you both study each other's expressions. This form of intimacy was unusual to everyone else but the two of you, having spent countless hours in the past working across one another without uttering a single word, yet communicating in perfect sync. You were a part of each other's routines, a never ending spiral. Dazai feels himself teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something peeling away at his very soul. He's usually so arrogant and domineering, but in this instant, he suddenly feels an exhaustion wash over him trying to keep that going. He's kept it going for so long, he forgot that he doesn't like doing it with you. You don't deserve to be a part of all of this, and he doesn't deserve to want you.

Oh how he loathes his true identity: A simple man. A human man. Your man.

When he can't take it anymore, he slowly creeps his bandaged hand on top of yours, applying light pressure, but his eyes don't dare look into yours. Not yet. Finally, you break the silence, staring down with furrowed brows at the way your hands fit around one another. You mutter under your breath, tired of being vague.

"What are we to each other, Dazai? I mean really?"

"Do I really need to spell it out for you?" He snorts, trying to cling to the last of his cruelty but failing as he lets his emotions sway his judgement.

You sigh, flipping your hand over so that your fingers can fully intertwine.

"I just don't know how I could ever take up any space in your mind. I didn't think you noticed whether I stayed or left."

He looks up, flashing you a mildly offended look, his sharp eyes narrowing. He scoffs quietly, dropping your hand and standing up from his desk. He walks over to you, his full height now looming. He bends down and scolds you.

"What an obscene thing to say. You're invaluable. You have always been occupying my mind, every minute, every second, every microsecond. I always notice. I'd notice even if I was on my deathbed."

Your breath catches in your throat, and you finally manage to swallow the lump that's building up as you stare up at your reckoning.

"I just- I'd never try to leash you, sir."

His eyes soften, and he tilts his head slightly. You drive him mad with the way you don't realize what a dog he is for you. His voice comes out strained.

"You wouldn't need to. And don't call me that. You know my name, and as your superior l'm ordering you to address me properly."

Your cheeks flush, and you part your lips, letting out the breath you can't stop holding. A faint smile appears on your face, and you stand up slowly to meet him.

"You're like the moon, you know? You control everything like the tides. You control me, Osamu."

He shakes his head, and sighs deeply. If only you could see how wrong you were. He steps closer, moving his hand up your arm gently as he trails his way to your collarbone with ghost-like strokes.

"Did you know that sometimes when I'm laying in bed, all alone after a long day of controlling things, my only thoughts are about you?"

He confesses, sincerely. Dazai brings his face inches from yours, his voice now becoming a pleading whisper. His hand travels down to your waist, gripping it gently.

"Do you find it hard to believe that you bring me to my knees, the big scary Port Mafia boss? Because if so, you're a great fool! I love spending my time with you. I quite literally need you by my side in my times of need and at any random and mundane moment that passes. It brings me unimaginable joy when you nag me to get more sleep, especially when I don't listen because I can't wait to hear you say it over and over again. I don't like it when you have plans, or when you report to anyone else but me. I want you to stay with me tonight and every single night after and I don't care how awful this sounds. I don't care about you having a life outside of me."

Your throat feels tight, eyes wide at the fervor of his words alone. You reply with a shaky breath.

"Every single night after?"

"Every. Single. Night. After..."

"As if we were together?"

"We are together." He declares as if it were obvious this entire time.

Hearing Dazai be so blunt makes your mind fog over quickly, a whiplash of feelings that you never thought would ever see the light of day suddenly surface. He feels the same, realizing how much he's given away to you in such a short amount of time, but for him it's been rotting inside for years. He's been held together by the glue of your support too long not to kneel for you now. It's over for him, he's run out of masks to wear. He slowly guides your body backwards towards the opulent leather couch at the center of the room. You stop when you feel yourself backing up into the cool pebbled hide, and he slowly lowers you down onto your back with his arms supporting you. He delicately hovers over you, looking deeply into your eyes as he takes in the way your bodies feel against each other. For a moment he worries he might actually be trembling.

His breath hitches when you place a hand on the bandaged side of his face that covers his left eye. You stroke the fabric lightly, eyes twinkling with unfiltered adoration. He thinks about the only other person who's ever looked at him with such reverence, and how painful it is not to be able to tell his best friend he's in love. He leans into your touch, humming softly and closing his eyes as he molds his lips deeply into yours. It's not a kiss of sexual desire. This is a kiss born of romance and intimacy, a mutual oath of surrender. cold bandaged hands instinctively wander your body, starting at the waist down to your hips, and slowly exploring the plush of your thighs, kneading them. He runs them higher, lightly tracing your ribs with his index finger while the other hand cups your face. Dazai's mouth moves gently, and slowly pulls away from yours with a soft whine. His fingers trace your jawline as he stares at you. You taste like milk and honey. Like the moon and rain. He smiles at you, eyes sparkling like the night sky. You feel his heartbeat against your body. Every single pore of your skin is connected.

"Please— don't leave the Port Mafia, and don't leave me alone... Not tonight. Not ever. I'd become a tyrant without you."

"Is that also an order?" You murmur in between shallow breaths, dreamy eyes trained on him.

His eyes flicker over to your lips for a moment, then return to your eyes. His voice drops to something that resembles a soft whimper.

"Noo. No, it's not. I could never demand anything from you. But if you'll allow me to act selfishly, I just want to make you happy, to see you smile. I want you to keep greeting me with that tea you make every morning before our meetings. I also never want to hear you call me 'Sir' again. I am not your boss or your friend... I'm so much more than that. We've always been together. We will always be together— Is this too much?"

You shake your head, smiling uncontrollably at the way Dazai rambles in this moment, it's a side of him you've never seen in all the years you've known him. A stark contrast from the detached and cruel presence that frightens others on an almost daily basis. This seems like a person pretending to be the boss of the Port Mafia, an almost perfect imitation. You're not sure what barriers within him had to break for him to become the mushy and needy mess you see before you and what it all means in the long run, but you dismiss it for now. You get the feeling this might be the real Osamu Dazai. And that excites you.

"Never too much. I'm here and I'm staying. I would always stay."

He chuckles, it's a broken shaky laugh bordering on a sob. He buries himself in your neck, smiling against your soft skin, nibbling on it. He lightly runs his tongue against the mark he leaves, and slowly lifts his gaze to meet yours

"... I know you would. You always do."

You tilt your head, and hum in mild confusion at his odd little comment.

"Do you know something I don't?"

He flashes you a knowing smile and speaks prophetically as he lightly traces a finger over a large vein on your neck, following it down to your soft chest. He murmurs lazily while bringing his lips down to where he won't be able to get them off for the rest of the night.

"I know everything, silly.~"

The Port Mafia can wait, he's going home first.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Eyes on the Mirror - part 1

Pairing: neighbor!Frankie Morales x f!reader Rating: +18, NSFW Words count: 2631 Summary: You're at a turning point in your relationship with Frankie, he tells you that his mother insists on meeting you. Tags/Warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, reader wears dresses, heels and uses make-up, no other description of her is given, no mention of her skin tone and she doesn't blush, no description of her hair, Frankie can lift her but he’s a hunk of a men you know, mention of food, established relationship, enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, kissing, mention of unprotected p in v, nipples play (f receiving), oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), panties in mouth (don't know how it's called in English, I just know that I like it lol), Frankie is our canon PEK and also the perfect boyfriend okay, mention of being caught (well, to be more specific, to be heard lol), pet names. Let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: This has been a long journey and I think it took me longer than expected. Second part is coming tomorrow. It's an emotional work, it's smut, but it's smut with feelings and I think I put a lot of myself into it. So I ask you to be especially delicate. This Frankie is the same guy from You look like a fun place to sit and Give me more Anyway, let me say a few thanks because I can't believe I had two people volunteer to be my beta, I'm very lucky. Kate @aurorawritestoescape and Ally @arcanefox207 The fact alone that you took some time to read and proofread my stuff is so important to me and you have given me so many helpful suggestions and advice, I am very grateful ❤️ Thank you Odi @joelmillerisapunk , to let me blather, to cheer me up, to always have the right words, I don't know how you do it, you're literally a gem ❤️ We’re going back to the emotional unavailable men agenda asap but for the moment I hope you’ll enjoy my lover boy neighbor!Frankie who is crazy about his girl 🥰  English is not my first language, any mistake is still on me, so if you come across one I’m very sorry. Frankie Masterlist ⎮ Masterlist ⎮ part 2

You and Frankie have been together for four months now, and you’re incredibly happy. Your neighbor, the man you spent a year hating, revealed himself as the best man you’ve ever been in a relationship with. 

You haven't said “I love you” to each other yet, you're taking it slow and you're perfectly fine with that, you know you have strong feelings for him but you don't know if he's ready to say it and the last thing you want is to ruin the best relationship you've had because of words said too soon. 

So you respect his timing without forcing his hand. And still you often think you don't even really need to say it, all you really want is to keep being with him, the man who can make you laugh in a second, with whom you like to do everything from the most mundane things like grocery shopping and running errands, to talking for hours and sharing everything with him, cooking, going to parties and concerts, even bickering. 

And sex. 

Oh, Frankie is a fucking magician. 

The most shockingly fiery and at the same time sweet lover you've ever had. 

You feel you can be yourself at all times with him, he knows your flaws and frailties and accepts them. And from where you were starting out it already feels like a considerable accomplishment. You never thought that the man who used to spend time judging you, once you penetrated his armor, was actually such a tolerant and nonjudgmental person.

You haven't moved in together, but you spend almost every night together, and yet, you are still trying to navigate your relationship without making the other one run off before taking the next step.

So when Frankie tells you that his mother would love to meet you, you get a little scared but you try to put on a good face.

"You really don't mind?" he prods you. 

You can never hide anything from him; Frankie has an ability to read your mind, the talent that you had never found in a man. 

His eyes scan you and he has a cunning little smile as he’s standing on the other side of the table, eating the eggs you prepared for him. 

“Yeah, don't worry, it's okay,” you nod, your movement a little forced, and Frankie notices it. 

“You're nervous, huh? Look it's normal,” he tries to reassure you, his hand slides across the table until it meets yours. 

He squeezes it gently and then intertwines his fingers with yours. 

“I'm sorry, she's been nagging me for at least a month now, I've managed to keep her at bay until now but she grilled me yesterday and told me that she was expecting us for dinner on Friday.”

“Yeah...I just feel a little pressure, you know, but it's okay,” you admit.

“Babe, she will like you very much, I'm sure.”

You look into his eyes, those big eyes the color of coffee and chocolate, and the comfortable glow they give off immediately takes away part of the weight you feel on your chest. 

“Are you sure?” you murmur.

“Of course!” he smiles at you, ”Well, you're a little sassy but...”

You slap his hand “Frankie! You're not helping me!” you complain. 

“Come on, I'm kidding. She’s going to adore you, I have no doubt about it,” he chuckles.

“Mmmm we’ll see” you still mumble with uncertainty.

"Come here," he says softly. 

You get up and walk over to him before he welcomes you on his lap and you wrap your arms around his neck. He rests his forehead on yours looking into your eyes and repeats softly, “she will adore you…not as much as I do but she sure will”

The thing is this with him, he's been circling around that word for weeks, so you're pretty sure he's going to confess sooner or later.

"What if she doesn't like me?" you ask him and bite your lip, looking at him expectantly.

“Uh, I don't want to stop fucking you, you know... so, you'll have to stay in a clandestine relationship while I'm dating a woman, personally chosen by my mom.” 

You kiss him, muttering “god, you're so...” 

He giggles and asks "what am I like?" tightening his grip on your waist a little tighter and pulling you closer to his chest, your tits pressed against him. 

“An incredibly lovely fucking bastard.”

________________________________________

You are in the kitchen preparing dinner, which in your case means putting take-out pizza on plates, as you hear Frankie come in. 

“Hey, are you here?” 

He gave you his keys a few weeks ago to make it easier for you to get around.

“In the kitchen!” you shout to him. 

You hear his footsteps approaching from the hallway until he comes in with a bag. 

“Hey, baby.” 

You walk up to him to give him a kiss, he immediately puts down the bag and hugs you tightly. “mmm I missed you. What's for dinner?” 

“Pizza,” you tell him smiling through your eyelashes and stealing another kiss, his beard tickling your cupid's bow pleasantly “And I was thinking about…uhm…your cock for dessert.”

He squeezes your butt, chuckling, “So eager, huh?”

“For you? Always,” you purr, looking into his eyes, veiled with desire.

His stomach grumbles slightly making you giggle, “Do you want to eat first?” 

“Uh, no,” he whispers, and as he does so he slips two fingers under the straps of your dress and pulls it off, letting it slide to the floor. 

You're in your panties in front of him, no bra, he looks at you spellbound with a smirk that unknowingly puckers his lips, "do you know how beautiful you are?" 

His eyes move from your face down to the crease of your neck, your cleavage, your breasts, your stomach, slowly, as if he is drinking from your body, the source that keeps him alive. 

He takes his time, still hasn't touched you but you'd swear you've never felt more caressed than now, nurtured, sensed, accepted in your body's every disheveled and flawed manifestation.

You could swear you could moan from that alone.

When his hands approach your hips you want them so badly that you instinctively lean into them to meet his palms, the warmth of his skin welcoming you.

You cling to his broad shoulders, bringing his body closer to yours.

He lifts you up as if you weighed nothing and lays you on the kitchen countertop, next to the sink. 

Your legs hang over the edge as he commands, “open wide, baby,” and settles in between, still fully clothed. 

“Frankie, please.” 

“You know what I like?” he asks with a smirk, ”the way you light up as soon as I touch you. God, it drives me crazy the way you instantly become a needy little animal, you know that?" 

You feel your eyes heavy and your voice shaky as you repeat his question, “You know what I like? The way you know exactly what I need.”

He smiles, leaning down to your neck to bite the soft skin over your pulse point and soothing it right after with his warm tongue. 

He lowers himself onto you, leaving a trail of kisses on your beating chest, pausing on your tits and spreading his lips over your nipples, first one and then the other, caressing them with his tongue, swirling it around. You moan with each touch, tilting your head back as he sucks them harder, his beard pinching you gently, his warm lips enveloping them.

You pull his cap off and sink a hand into his dark curls. 

He knows you so well, it is as if he has memorized your every little reaction and in his mind has written himself a manual on how to make you completely lose control. 

He continues to work on your nipples, grazing them with his teeth, licking them up and down with his tongue, sucking them between his lips, hard and covering them with his saliva. His tongue goes around your areola, returning to your little pebble every time you pull his hair a little harder and mewl.

He suddenly leaves your tits and returns to your neck, you groan in disappointment but his tongue immediately soothes you trailing up to your jaw and licking over your lips, inviting them to open for him and dragging you in a sloppy, feral kiss that leaves you breathless.

His hips are rocking into you, brushing over your damp underwear while you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him against your core.

His eyes are dark with lust as he moves one of his hands over your soaked underwear, brushing your folds with his knuckles, “I’m going to make you scream my name so loudly, baby”

“That’s exactly what I want,” you prod him, biting down softly on his lower lip. “Do your magic, Morales.” 

You loosen the grip of your legs, gently pushing his shoulders to invite him to lower himself, and Frankie grumbles jokingly, "bossy". 

He kneels in front of you holding his hands down on your back, just above your butt and pushes you toward him, you falter for a moment balancing on the edge of the counter but his grip is strong and secure.

You run a hand through his curls, tugging slightly.

He licks a strip over your panties, taking the fabric between his teeth, without stopping to look at you. 

A fucking tease. 

He stills for a moment and then kisses your clit. 

Then he moves his flat tongue flat down, almost to your tight hole and then back up, again and again, lingering on your clit with quick flicks of his tongue.

The fabric of your panties is wet with his saliva as a new stream of pleasure floods you, soaking them even more.

“Oh fuck, yes,” you holler.

He looks at you mischievously. “Thinking about it… we should take some measures to make sure you stay quiet, honey, you know?” he nods to the half opened window right behind you. 

You glance back and then blurt out, “oh, whatever, let them hear us.”

Frankie chuckles at your impatience. “Do you really want to put on a show for the whole neighborhood?” 

“There are curtains, they can't see us,” you frown

“But do they need to hear us?” he says as he pulls off your panties, sliding them down your legs.

He sniffs them for a moment- “fucking sweet, darling” - while you wonder what he's going to do, then rolls them and stands back up, sneaking his hand behind your neck and looking at you authoritatively, his lips pursed in a smirk. 

He runs his thumb over your mouth, stops in the center and pushes gently, silently commanding you to open it. The moment your lips part he thrusts your panties into your mouth. “That's it, good girl” he coos.

It’s so wrong, keeping your panties in your mouth like that, your tongue numbed with the taste of it and your body tense under Frankie’s gaze. But also fucking right. 

He graciously holds his power over you, always considerate of your need while he plays with your mind in a delicious nasty way. 

He caresses your cheek, moving down to the column of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it, “Don't try to take them out or you won't get what you want,” he gently orders.  “Can you behave for me?” 

You nod.

He gives you a smirk and gets back on his knees and admires your glistening pussy for a moment. “Always so fucking wet for me,” he whispers before sinking into you again, licking and sucking on your clit and down on your folds, his nose hitting your most sensitive part. 

When you’re basically dripping on your inner thighs, he slides two fingers inside you, so easily moving over the spot he knows makes you see double.

His fingers are inside you up to his knuckles when he curls them, pushing and grasping.

You are thrown into a frenzy almost immediately as he gently hits you with his fingertips again and again, sucking avidly on your clit as you’re stifling your moans by clenching your teeth on your panties.

He laps at your folds so thoroughly, then goes back on your bundle of nerves, sloppy wet noises fill the air mixing with your gasps as he scissors and pushes into you.

He hums against you, whines evenly, you watch him through your eyelashes as he palms himself from above his jeans, seeking some relief.

He doesn’t stop until he feels your legs shake and your stifled mewls trying desperately to get out of your throat. 

Your orgasm crushes over you like a wave, leaving you quivering and breathless.

He gets back up and removes the panties from your mouth, kissing you with his mouth still smeared with your essence. 

 “You’ve been so good, baby.”

You pull him by his shirt protesting, "You haven't got anything yet, though.”

“That’s not a problem, hun, we can eat something and then you’ll eat me. Dessert, remember?” 

You giggle “deal.” 

You steal another kiss from him before slipping your dress back on and setting the table. 

As you eat you notice the bag he left in a corner by the kitchen door.

“What is that?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, I almost forgot, it's a gift for you." 

You squint your eyes “For me? You didn't have to!”

Frankie smiles “I saw it in a store and thought of you. Open it.” 

You get up and go for the bag, not before giving him a kiss.

When you open the bag you find a dress. 

Very simple, black, not too low-cut, with a tulip skirt. 

As you're looking at it, leaning it over your body to see the length, Frankie suggests that you could wear it to his mother's. 

____________________________________________

“Are you ready, honey?” 

Frankie's voice is muffled by the bathroom door as you're finishing putting on your lipstick.

“Almost, you just need to help me with the zipper.”

Frankie opens the door and peeps into the bathroom.

He stops behind you, admiring you in the mirror as you stand there with your lips parted, leaning slightly over the sink, your legs slender from your heels, you wear the dress he bought you, unzipped at the back.

“Jesus, you’re a vision,” he breathes. “Maybe we should skip dinner at my mom’s.” 

He approaches you and settles his big hands firmly on your hips. 

“Come on, Frankie, be serious,” you giggle.

“I'm serious,” he replies in a rough, deep voice.

He leans down to leave a trail of kisses down the exposed skin on your back, his soft lips send shivers down your spine and you are almost on the verge of giving in. 

You set your lipstick down on the sink countertop and turn to look at him pouting

"You can't do this to me now, you know we can't skip it.” 

“Well, it might help you relax though,” he continues to flirt, his lips curved into a little smile.

You’d fall for it any other day but not now that you’re trying to figure out how to impress someone you don’t even know. 

Frankie told you something about his mom, how protective she is and overall pretty conservative, you’re the exact opposite. 

You don’t know why he stays so positive about the dinner, you’re pretty sure she will hate you.

One look from you is enough to let him know how nervous you are.

Frankie leaves a light kiss on your shoulders and says. "Okay, I'll behave, turn around." 

He pulls up his zipper looking at you in the mirror, “Anyway, I wasn’t lying, you look really beautiful.” 

You smile softly, feeling your heart fluttering.

general tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @milla-frenchy , @thundermartini , @harriedandharassed , @almostempty let me know if you want to be added or removed and I’ll do it right away.

Archive tag: @pedrostories💗

Thank you so much for reading!

[lewismcqueen]

could've been. 1/2

lh44 x black!reader

part 2 -> summary: you and Lewis meet again for the first time since 2008, and his presence leaves you reminiscing on what could have been. cw: this will be smutty all the way through. story involves infidelity, so feel free to pass on this one if that distresses you. a/n: this was gonna be a one-shot but I could feel deep in my spirit that it was gonna be longgg asf so...two parter! (not a series lol). I know folks don't love Lewis' pre-braids era but just go with it this one time for the plot 😁 I tried to cosplay as a British writer for a second it might be inaccurate pls don't jump me 🙏🏾

“Don’t look so down, honey. Walk around, grab a couple drinks!” 

Your husband, Joshua Lee, flashed you that ‘party host’ smile that was more for everyone else than for you. He raised his flute of champagne in the air jovially before turning away. He had an audience to entertain.

He thinks he’s in the fucking Great Gatsby, you thought to yourself with a sigh. 

You touched a manicured hand to the white cashmere sweater tied around your shoulders overtop a navy blue blouse. It was starting to create unnecessary bulk, and you considered removing it and just tying it around your waist the way you used to. Too hot out to just put it on. 

Freshly-cut grass occasionally brushed the sides of your feet as you wandered around what was the third garden party that your husband had decided to throw on a whim within the past couple of months. It’s considerably more crowded today, which meant that he’d likely invited a few of his buddies from Formula One, and you now had twice as many folks to smile and wave at if you couldn’t weave around them. Some had even begun to recognize you; he liked to take you to races and paddock walks to ‘show you off’. Brag about how he’d married you before any of the actual racers could as soon as you graduated.

You were just ending a conversation with one of the drivers’ wives about where you got your sandals from when a man’s voice that was not your husband’s called out your name. It took a second to place it, but the pang of familiarity was unmistakable. Eyes widening, you turned around. 

“Lewis?”

-

“What?” Lewis’ brows furrowed. 

Now, this Lewis hasn’t grown his hair out yet, keeping it closely cropped so that none of the other racers or the media had anything to comment on. He hasn’t pierced his ears just yet either. He’s wearing a black polo shirt—you swear he has a million of those—over loose blue jeans on which he wipes sweaty palms. Lewis is trying to look irritated and pragmatic, but it doesn’t quite reach his dark brown eyes. They always gave him away, revealing that he cared more than he would like to admit. 

This is the Lewis you knew.

“What do you mean ‘what’?” you snapped. You began counting off on your fingers, “You walk right past me after races, you miss my birthday, you’ve not returned any of my calls, or my mum’s calls! Do you know how crazy it is to let my mum go to voicemail?”

Lewis’ expression softened, and he suddenly looked very tired. “Look, I’m sorry, alright? I’ve got back-to-back training sessions with my dad, then it’s straight back home for me. I’m hanging out with you now, though, right?”

“Sure, I guess.” 

“You don’t accept my apology?”

“I don’t know.”

You pretended to check your nails. The glittery blue polish had finally begun to chip. 

Soft, quiet laughter came from the other side of your bed. “What the hell is your problem?”

He called your name one, two, then three times, but you continued sulking with your head turned in the other direction. Finally, you felt his finger beneath your chin, turning your face towards his. You stuck out your bottom lip with a pout.

Lewis tilted his head with a grin. He liked to do that whenever he was trying to make you forget whatever he’d just done to annoy you at that moment, sometimes batting his long lashes and narrowing his eyes for full effect. It was almost coquettish. And it always worked. 

“Are you mad at me?”

“Maybe.”

“Well don’t be, ‘cuz I got you something. That's the main reason I came here.”

Lewis bent down and reached into his backpack, which he had laid beside your bed when he came in. From it he produced a small white satin pouch with drawstrings. Gently, he placed it into your palm and closed your hand.

“Open it.”

You pried open the soft material and gasped softly as you pulled out a gold necklace. The warm light of your bedside lamp reflected off of a nameplate hanging from the chain. Your name, in stylish, curling letters. It was going to be extra hard to stay mad now.

You held the nameplate between your fingers. “How…how did you know?”

He snorted. “Overheard you begging your poor mum to buy you one. Put it on, then.”

You undid the clasp and wrapped the chain delicately around your neck, finding the hole it was supposed to go through with your fingers with practiced ease. Letting it fall at your collarbone, you brushed back iron-pressed hair and turned to Lewis. “How do I look?”

“Beautiful,” he answered with an earnestness that caught you off-guard. “I’m really gonna miss you.”

You were half-expecting him to be a smart Alec and say something like, “The same, but with a necklace” or something. But he was staring at you the way he stared at the sunset when you two would watch it together while sitting on the hood of his dad’s car. 

Staring, and getting much, much closer. 

His lips pressed against yours before you could even react. When he pulled away, he suddenly looked mortified. Heart drumming in your ears, you noticed the residue of some of your lip gloss creating a sheen on his lips. It was a lucky thing you were wearing your favorite tank top today, because the heat simmering beneath your skin would’ve made you break into sweats.

Lewis held his hands out defensively like you were going to hit him.  “I’m so sorry—”

“Shut up.”

Impulsively, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him into another kiss. You had watched him make out with other girls enough times in sixth form to get the general idea of how it ought to be done. Now, fresh out of your first year of university, you were basically an expert. Sort of.

“Wow,” Lewis exhaled with his lips still nearly brushing yours. He smirked. “You’re a terrible kisser.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then show me how, idiot. Since you’re apparently so good at snogging.”

“Let go of my shirt, and I will.”

Despite your casual remarks, you were very sure that your steadily rising heart rate and heavy breathing was the loudest thing in the room. Lewis gently held your chin again.

“Alright, so you’ve gotta tilt your head.”

“Like this?”

“No,” he laughed. “Other way.”

You followed his lead before leaning in with your lips slightly parted this time. He guided your hand up to his face, where you rested it on his cheek as you went in for a much surer kiss. 

Save for the occasional awkward clicking of teeth, you eventually fell into a rhythm. Lewis’ hand came to rest on your waist. He seemed to approach making out like he did racing; the moment he felt you relax, he pushed further, deepening the kiss with more hunger than before. Your breathing had just begun to even out again when he made the bold move of planting a soft, experimental kiss on your neck, making you tense up. He pulled away, looking hesitant.

“Do you want me to stop? I’ll stop if you ask me to.”

You bit your lip, considering. A week from now, he’d be back to racing, unlikely to ever bring this up again, knowing him. You’d be going back to school to study engineering in a couple of months. The bedroom door was locked. Might as well make the most of it.

“No,” you finally answered, voice so low you were nearly whispering. “Keep going.”

Slowly, Lewis lowered his head to where it was before. You placed a hand on the back of his neck as he made contact with hot skin, more sucking now than kissing. As your mouth fell open with the added pressure, you thought about how this felt way better than how it looked in those R-rated movies you sometimes snuck off to watch together. 

Just as the tender spot above your necklace began to feel sore, he broke contact. His eyelids were low as he looked at you, lips just slightly pinker than they were before. He was staring downwards, where the nameplate rested just above the swell of your breasts. Lewis looked up.

“It’s, uh, better lying down. Can you…?”

He didn’t have to finish the question for you to get the message. Lewis got up as you swung your legs and scooted forward so that you were lying flat on your back. He climbed onto the cramped twin-sized bed with you, carefully settling right between your legs. Suddenly, you were very aware of how high up your thighs your shorts cut off, how your hair was going to be a flattened mess after you got up, and how you might look from above while gazing up at him through thick red prescription glasses. This rapid line of thought was soon cut off when his lips crashed into yours again.

You pointed at your spectacles as he hovered over you. “Should I take these off?”

He shook his head, “I like when you keep them on.”

Huh, you think. Must have a thing for glasses.

“You know, if they get crooked, it’s not gonna look very—”

“I like when they’re crooked.”

A mischievous smile spread across his face; The statement seemed to shut you up.

Lewis had been right. It was easier lying down. Your hands roamed up and down his back as you gave him full access to your neck. You felt him tug at the hem of your shirt.

“Can I?” he asks against your skin.

“M-hm.”

You actually weren’t sure what you expected him to do until you felt his hand slide underneath your tank top and begin kneading your breast through your sports bra. This was now completely uncharted territory, but heat was building between your thighs and you wanted him to explore all of you until he knew it like the back of his hand. 

An unexpected, quiet moan escaped you when his thumb swiped over your nipple. You’d never moaned before, not even by yourself when your dorm was empty.

This seemed to signal something to Lewis, who momentarily sat up on his knees to bring his shirt up over his head, revealing an expanse of bronze skin with lean muscle that wasn’t there before. He discarded it onto the fluffy pink rug you had on the floor.

You lie there gaping for a moment, before realizing that you were supposed to do the same or it would be weird. You were about to wriggle out of your top when he stopped you.

“I can do it, it’s fine.”

Raising your arms, you let him briefly remove your glasses and hoist the turquoise fabric over your head. He looked so focused as he carefully placed the glasses back on your face that he could’ve been doing surgery. Lewis had never looked this methodical in your presence before. 

Now that you were more or less topless, there was no bit of skin that went untouched by his lips or tongue. He was kissing your navel when you finally stated the obvious.

“I didn’t realize you were into me like that.”

Lewis stopped and looked up at you quizzically. Then he smiled. “Me neither.”

-

This new, less familiar Lewis wore a white tank top that showed off extensively-tattooed arms, earrings that glittered in the sunlight, and hair that was braided into neat square sections with faded edges because he had won too many championships to be worried about what the media would say about it. He had a hand shoved into the pocket of some fashionably-baggy cargo pants while the other hand carefully held a champagne glass.

That sharp, gap-toothed smile was the same, though. And the way he said your name again, softer this time.

“Hey,” he regarded you warmly. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Still reeling from his sudden appearance, you stuttered. 

“Y-yes, it…certainly has been. A while, I mean.”

“I know what you mean. How have you been?”

You thought you’d gotten used to seeing him, given his face was everywhere now. But the intensity of those eyes couldn’t be captured on camera. Suddenly you were back in first year again, moaning beneath him in your old bedroom. 

“I’ve been…good,” you nodded.

“Oh, don’t give me that. It’s been so long that you’ve gone and got married!” His hand left his pocket to gesture animatedly. “Tell me something. I mean, how’s married life? What do you do these days?” 

You had forgotten that Lewis could chat up a tree if he wanted to. “It’s been alright,” you say unconvincingly with a practiced smile. “Joshua’s been great, he takes me to races once in a while. I even get to tour the garage sometimes, though I’m not as involved as I’d planned to be. It’s like I never left.”

“You were studying engineering, right? I’d love to see you working around the paddock, if you’re ever interested. I’ll vouch for you.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d given that up—all of it—because you thought you were in love. Now your degree was nothing more than a notch in your belt. A mere decoration collecting dust on your nightstand. 

“I’ll be sure to call you if I ever think of joining the team. We’re always rooting for Mercedes,” Gesturing towards Joshua’s figure in the distance, you started to move past Lewis. “I will see you—”

“Wait,” 

You felt Lewis’ hand lightly touch your elbow. You stopped, only turning halfway.

He looked like he was still figuring out what to say afterwards, as if he had stopped you on impulse. His free hand awkwardly scratched the back of his neck. “I, um, don’t have your number.”

You nodded slowly. 

“Right, um,” you reached into the back pocket of your white capris and pulled out your phone. 

Once you added a new contact labeled with his name, he typed in his number.

“Well, there you go.” You gave him a strained, polite smile. 

Lewis looked like he wanted to say something, but you turned to leave before he could. You told yourself it was better this way. I’m married, you repeated like a mantra in your head.

I’m married, I’m married, I’m married.

[tinytinyblogs]

Welcome To The Team!

Skz has a new member and they trying to get close to you, too.

Hyung line, Maknae line

💬Thank you for taking the time to read this and provide feedback. It truly makes me happy!

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

When you first met Han, he didn’t reveal much of himself—just a casual, polite greeting that didn’t give away much about his personality. He seemed quiet, reserved, and someone who doesn’t speak unless he really feels comfortable. It became clear that he’s the kind of person who only really opens up to people he’s close with, which made your initial conversations a bit limited. He didn’t talk much, but even so, there was something about his presence that told you he was trying. You could sense that despite the awkwardness, he genuinely wanted to connect with you, even if words didn’t come easily at first. It was subtle—small efforts, little glances, or brief comments that let you know he was pushing himself to bridge that gap. With time, that initial awkwardness began to fade, and your interactions started to flow more naturally. Slowly but surely, Han’s quiet exterior gave way to a different side of him. He casually asked, "That's pretty cool, where did you get it?" Though his comment seemed unnecessary at first, it somehow sparked a longer conversation.

Before you knew it, the two of you had fallen into a comfortable back-and-forth, and the initial awkwardness disappeared as you got more relaxed. As he grew more comfortable, his personality started to shine through. He became more open, and what once felt like small talk evolved into real conversations. You noticed him becoming more bubbly, playful, and even a little cute around you. It was as though his walls were coming down, and in place of the quiet, reserved Han you first met, was someone who felt at ease with you, allowing his true self to emerge. The transformation was subtle yet undeniable, and it made the connection between you feel even more special. Once the two of you became close, he wasn’t shy about giving you that adorable, warm smile of his. It was something you began to look forward to, as if it was his way of letting you know he felt comfortable around you. He had this ease about him, the way he could talk for hours about anything and everything, just because he genuinely enjoyed being in your company.

He often said that your presence made him feel at peace, like he didn’t have to put up any walls, and in return, he did his best to make you feel just as at ease when he was around. One thing you noticed about him was that he was always considerate in his own playful way. It wasn’t just the words he said but how he said them, with that lighthearted tone that put you at ease. Like that one time when the weather turned chilly, and he noticed you rubbing your arms to keep warm. Without a second thought, he took off his jacket, holding it out to you with that same playful grin you’d come to adore. "Here, wear my jacket—I don't want you freezing to death," he joked, his tone teasing but his actions showing how much he cared. He wasn’t just looking after you; he was trying to make sure you felt as comfortable and safe with him as he did with you, creating this effortless sense of connection that seemed to deepen each time you were together.

Felix

From the very first moment you meet Felix, there's an undeniable warmth in the air, making the encounter feel comfortable and inviting. Felix, with his naturally kind and gentle demeanor, immediately exudes a sweetness that draws you in, making you feel at ease from the start. His friendly smile and genuine interest in getting to know you create a welcoming environment where conversation seems to flow effortlessly. Rather than simply exchanging pleasantries, Felix takes the time to ask thoughtful questions, clearly curious and eager to learn more about you, the new person he's just met. His curiosity is both sincere and endearing, as he engages deeply with every response you give, showing a real interest in what you have to say. There's an ease in the way he interacts, almost as if he's trying to find those little details that will help form a connection. He’s incredibly perceptive, so if he sensed even a hint of discomfort or shyness, he’d make sure to gently guide the interaction to help the new member feel more relaxed. He’d ask them about themselves—not in an overwhelming way, but with genuine curiosity—wanting to know about their interests, what brought them to the group, and how they were adjusting to everything so far.

As you grow closer to Felix, everything about him seems even more endearing. The little things he does that might have gone unnoticed before now feel irresistibly cute. One of the moments that never fails to make your heart flutter is when he spots you from afar. His face lights up the moment he sees you, and without hesitation, he flashes that beautiful, genuine smile of his, the one that seems to light up everything around him. He waves enthusiastically, his happiness at seeing you completely unfiltered, like a burst of joy that radiates from him "How's my favorite person doing today?" he asks playfully as he gently pokes your nose. It’s not just the way he greets you that makes him special, but also the way he opens up as you get to know each other better. Felix becomes more expressive, sharing stories, thoughts, and little details about his life with an infectious energy. It's as if, with you, he feels completely at ease, able to let down any guard and reveal his softer, more vulnerable side.

He talks non-stop, eagerly sharing his passions, dreams, and even his quirks, as if you’ve become someone he can trust implicitly. The way he shares so openly and honestly makes you feel like you’re seeing a side of him that not everyone gets to see—his softer, more delicate side that makes him all the more lovable. His openness is a clear reflection of how special your bond has become, a silent acknowledgment of the trust that’s blossomed between you. With each passing moment spent together, Felix has a way of making you feel not just cherished, but truly valued in a way that feels effortless and sincere. Whether it’s the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, as if you’re the only person in the room, or the way he constantly shares his thoughts, emotions, and stories without hesitation, there's something deeply intimate about his presence. Everything he does seems to radiate with a certain warmth, as though being around you brings out a softer, more open version of himself.

Seungmin

Seungmin might initially come across as a bit reserved when meeting the new member for the first time. He’s the type of person who prefers to observe from a distance, taking his time to assess how someone fits into the group dynamic before fully engaging. His cautious nature doesn’t stem from being cold or uninterested; rather, Seungmin is thoughtful and meticulous, wanting to ensure he understands the new member's personality and how they might gel with everyone else before diving in. He watches interactions closely, paying attention to the subtle ways they navigate conversations and how they handle the newness of the situation. During this initial period, Seungmin wouldn’t be the one to immediately rush over with jokes or questions. Instead, he’d offer a polite greeting, maybe exchange a few casual words, and then step back to observe. It might seem like he’s holding back, but in reality, Seungmin is taking mental notes, figuring out how to approach the new member in a way that feels genuine and natural for both of them.

He’s not one to force interactions or engage in small talk unless he truly feels comfortable, and he gives others the space to adjust at their own pace, just as he does. However, once Seungmin begins to get a better sense of who the new member is, especially if he notices that they have a good sense of humor or a playful side, his more fun-loving personality would start to emerge. Seungmin is known for his dry wit and clever remarks, and he enjoys a good laugh, particularly when someone can match his humor. If the new member shows that they can keep up with his banter, Seungmin would quickly become more open, gradually showing his playful and teasing side. His jokes might start off subtle, but as he gets more comfortable, you’ll notice that he’s got a sharp sense of humor, often slipping in witty comments or playful teasing when you least expect it. If the new member engages with his humor, Seungmin would be more than happy to continue the back-and-forth, forming a bond through this shared sense of playfulness. His jokes might sometimes catch you off guard, delivered with a straight face that makes you question whether he’s being serious or not, but that’s part of the fun with Seungmin.

Seungmin wasn’t exaggerating when he mentioned how carefully he takes notes on everything. His memory is sharp, and he effortlessly recalls even the smallest details, whether about himself or those around him. He has a quiet, observant nature that allows him to notice things others might miss, especially when it comes to you. While he may not always show it outwardly, Seungmin silently watches you with a careful eye, picking up on your habits and quirks, even the ones you aren’t aware of. He knows you tend to misplace things often, so he’s already mentally prepared to help when something goes missing. He’s also aware of the tasks you frequently forget to complete, remembering them without needing reminders. It’s almost like he’s keeping a quiet checklist in the back of his mind, not because he wants to point out your flaws, but because he genuinely cares and wants to support you. "I might need to start attaching your phone to you soon," he says with a playful smile as he hands you the phone you left on the kitchen table.

Jeongin

Jeongin tends to be a little shy when you first meet him, often keeping to himself. He’s not the type to initiate conversation right away, usually offering just a soft "hi" or a quick greeting before retreating into quiet observation. It's not that he’s unfriendly, but rather that he prefers to take his time before engaging with people, feeling out the atmosphere. As he sits back and watches, you might catch his gaze drifting towards you more often than not. His eyes will linger, almost as if he's studying you, scanning you in his mind. It’s subtle, not in an intimidating way, but more because he’s genuinely curious about you. He wants to understand who you are before he opens up fully, and watching from a distance helps him piece together the details. His quiet demeanor, coupled with those frequent glances, makes you wonder what exactly he's thinking, as he takes everything in with quiet interest. Though he may not say much at first, his curiosity is clear, and you get the feeling that once he feels more comfortable, he’ll have a lot more to say.

As time passes, Jeongin's curiosity about you only grows deeper with each passing day. At first, he remains quietly observant, content with listening to the things you talk about, the way you express your thoughts, and the subjects that seem to occupy your mind. He becomes increasingly attuned to the details of your conversations, noting what excites or intrigues you, and the subtle emotions behind your words. It's as if he's slowly piecing together a more complete picture of who you are. Then, at just the right moment, when he feels the timing is perfect, he finally steps in to join the conversation. It’s subtle at first—he’ll start with a small comment, carefully weaving his way into the discussion, showing that he’s been paying close attention all along. As the days go by, his contributions become more frequent and thoughtful, revealing the depth of his growing interest in who you are and what you care about. His once quiet presence turns into something more meaningful, as he becomes increasingly eager to engage with you on a deeper level, no longer content with simply watching from the sidelines.

As you and Jeongin grow closer, his thoughtful nature becomes increasingly apparent. He always seems to be looking out for you in subtle but meaningful ways. Whenever he gets something to eat or drink, his eyes naturally land on you first, checking if you’re comfortable "Want some? It's not too spicy, you should eat something. Let's share," he said with a gentle smile.. Without fail, he’ll ask if you want something as well, or sometimes, he’ll even offer you a bite, gently feeding you with a playful smile. His attentiveness feels effortless, as if caring for you has become second nature. What makes these moments even more special is the way he looks at you. His gaze is soft and full of warmth, like you’re the most important person in the room. It’s clear that he’s always aware of you, even in the smallest details. And when you catch his eye and smile back, he smiles too, his expression lighting up as if your happiness brings him joy. Through these little acts of care, it’s clear that Jeongin’s affection for you runs deep, showing just how much you truly mean to him.

[verascrow]

「✰」 ━━ CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE CHARACTER FAMILY OUTLINES

RATING PG-13 - Parents strongly cautioned [ Content warnings : references to sex, references to breeding kinks, heavy fluff, children, both pregnancy and adoption scenarios, toxic family relationship dynamics, minimal cursing, brief mention of Ghost and Farah's traumas, brief mention of transphobia and homophobia ]

SYNOPSIS In my opinion, what having a family with an assortment of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare characters would look like, be it how many kids they would have, their reasonings for having kids, their relationships with their kids, et cetera.

WORD COUNT 6.8k

CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE

Three sons and one daughter - ages ten, seven, five, and one

I'm certain we're all more than aware of this man's painfully obvious and present breeding kink, so it's no surprise to anyone that he would want to have a lot of children to call his own. He won't just be satisfied with one or two children - he's always wanted to have a full, bustling home, and he'll be damned if he doesn't try to make that a reality.

Every child of his is planned, both in pregnancy and adoption scenarios. He meticulously calculates and works to space each child out a certain range and number of years apart from one another in an effort to give himself extended experience with each developmental stage - or so he claims.

He wanted kids of his own, he decided, the second he met you, and he just hopes and prays that you'll be open to the concept of having quite a number of them. And, in his favor, you do and indulge him in his little fantasies.

And, in the ingenious words of @ghostlywhiskey , "i said that man has SWIMMERS AND THOSE MFS ARE PRICE BOYS". So, there's a very obvious patten that begins to form as more and more members are added to his little family. But, of course, there's one token daughter added into the mix, who he loves all the same as he does his boys.

In my eyes, the ideal father figure. He's extremely open and honest with his children, listens and talks with them whenever they have an issue or question, is very understanding and accepting overall, and, more than anything, works tirelessly to be a present, positive figure in their lives.

Because of all of the experience that he has with his own children, this results in the members of Task Force 141 and associated parties going to him for help or to have him answer questions they may have around their own children.

He tries to be as present of a father as he can be, given the challenges and distance that comes with his line of work, but always makes an effort, at the very least, call his kids whenever he can to ask about how they're doing, what they're up to, et cetera.

Refuses to talk about his job or entertain his children in the very idea of joining the military - the horrors he's seen is not in the slightest something he wants his children to witness for themselves. He knows the job best, and he will not allow any of his children to join.

Raises his sons right - they're respectful, mind their manners, don't start fights (but finish them, should the need arise) and instills all the necessary core morals and values they'll need to be good people when they grow up. All the same, he teaches his daughter not to take shit from anyone.

LIEUTENANT SIMON "GHOST" RILEY

Three daughters and one child (non-binary) - ages ten, six, three, and nine

Originally, he had never even spent a moment in time thinking about or entertaining the possibility of him having children, much less actively putting effort into reaching that goal. Especially when considering his own history, he can't even begin to see himself as a father, fearing he'll end up like his own.

So, when you get pregnant for the first time on complete accident/enthusiastically bring up the idea to him of adopting a child seemingly out of nowhere to him, he's completely shell-shocked. This is something he's ever put considerable thought into, and now it's being dropped into his lap without a moment to process it or breathe.

So, when he lays eyes on his first little girl for the first time, he's terrified. He's a dad now, whether he wants to or is ready for it or not. And no, it's not like he didn't tell you to get an abortion/refuse to sign the papers, but he isn't fully ready for such a heavy responsibility yet. But when he has her in his arms for the first time, he's done for.

After the first, he's so open and willing - and, quite frankly, pushing for - trying for/adopting another child. Yes, he was scared for his life to become a dad at first, but now that he's one now, he can't help but want another - and best you believe that his children are his absolute world.

Curse of the military. That's it, that's the tweet. He had all girls, plus, of course, his one gender non-conforming, non-binary kid, and all of them have equal ownership over his heart.

He's the perfect girl-dad, letting them do whatever they want with him - their own personal dress-up doll, if you will. Painting his nails, putting make-up on him, styling his hair, making him attend tea-parties and playing make-pretend. Whatever they want him to do, he does it.

When his second-oldest comes out to him (they came to him first before they did you), his heart absolutely melts. To know that his kid trusts him so wholeheartedly and isn't scared to share such a private thing with him lets him know just how good of a dad he is.

He's quick to use the right pronouns, allocates a separate room for them, helps them go shopping for clothes and items they may want, tests out new names for them should they want to, et cetera.

He's not at all a strict parent, as much as one might believe. He's stoic, cold, and cruel, sure - but that's to everyone but his family. For them? He's the biggest pushover in the world. If his children want anything, best believe he's doing everything in his power to fulfill their wishes.

SERGEANT JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH

One son and one daughter - ages four and five

He's always wanted children, that mindset and dream having been set long before he ever even joined the military in the first place. He used to take care of and watch his nieces, nephews, and younger cousins a lot when he was younger, so it eventually evolved into him wanting little rascals of his own as time went on - to be able to nurture, care for, and have fun with.

So, when the opportunity arises to actually start a family of his own, something that he's always dreamed of, he's so giddy. In complete honesty, he's practically beaming and bouncing on the balls of his feet, so willing and ready to make this into a reality. He has his own fears and anxieties, yes, but his excitement far outweighs it.

Both of his children are planned, of course, wanting them to be close in age as he can get them, and he's ecstatic that he gets to have both a boy and a girl. He gets the best of both worlds that way! And, when he finally gets to hold each in his arms for the first time, his heart shatters, melts, and crumbles in the best ways possible.

He isn't just a solider, a boyfriend, or a husband anymore - he's a dad now.

He's such a fun dad in general, always joking around with his kids, letting them - safely - do things that they aren't supposed to do, messing with them, taking them out for desert and sweets, et cetera.

But, as much as he's the "fun dad", that doesn't mean that he's any less strict. If his kids mess up or do something bad, he's often the one responsible for determining punishment, telling them off, and teaching them not to make the same mistake again.

His work is demanding, yes, and that often takes him away from you, his partner, and his kids for long periods of time, but he always comes back, ready to be a dad again and put "Soap" on the backburner.

The perfect role model for his kids, in all honesty - the best combination between a best friend and a parental figure. His kids tell him everything and they aren't scared of him to keep secrets from him, always telling him the truth without shame or hesitation.

SERGEANT KYLE "GAZ" GARRICK

One son and one daughter - ages seven

Both of children are twins

Having children wasn't something he had ever planned for, in his mind. Not to say that he never entertained the idea of having children of his own, nor is it to say something that he's against, either. He simply hadn't ever thought about making it a reality before.

But, when the opportunity to have/adopt children comes up into his life, it's welcomed, allowing himself to go with the flow of things and let them play out as is. He thinks about it a lot more now, daydreaming about what his child's personality will be like, what they'll look like, who they'll like more...

And then boom! Twins!

He's starstruck when he first gets the news that he'll be having/adopting twins. It's like a two-for-one deal, or so he says, genuinely shocked and excited at the same time. The way he sees it, his kids will always have a best friend (or, a partner-in-crime) and he's all for it.

Twins are a lot, he knows, but that doesn't mean he isn't up for the challenge. If anything, it only spurs him on to push to be the best dad he could ever possibly be.

For better or for worse, his kids adopt his sarcastic nature as their own and increase it by tenfold. It's his fault, given that whenever his kids are around, he's talking to them as if they'd understand his points and smart comments. They don't, most of the time, but they know their dad's tone, and they're quick to match it.

Takes the most time off out of anyone else in Task Force 141 to spend with his family if and when he can allocate it. He wants to be as present of a dad as possible, and if that means taking work home when he could easily finish it on base and then come home, maybe a day or two later, he's doing it.

Very adamant on having days out with his kids, be it for the purpose of a mental health day or just for fun. Takes them out to get breakfast and lunch, plus going to do another activity. Maybe the park, the playground, watch a movie at the cinema, go to the zoo/aquarium, et cetera.

He's not a super strict parent but that doesn't mean he isn't going to disciple his children if they misbehave or do something wrong. His punishments are lax, focused more towards talking out the issue that giving harsh lessons.

STATION CHIEF KATE LASWELL

One son - aged sixteen

She and her wife decided that they really wanted to have a kid of their own a few years into their marriage and, especially given that neither of them aren't getting any younger and didn't necessarily have the energy, time, or willingness to take on the challenge of pregnancy for themselves, they choose the more sensible option available and adopt.

It's a long, deliberate process that they have to go through in order to be so much as be approved for being able to adopt, but, once that hurdle is overcome, the two of them waste no time and immediately begin their search for the newest member of their own little family, allocating time to meticulously decide who they'll, inevitably, choose.

Their hearts end up settling on a little boy whose four years old, somehow resembling the both of them in different ways - be it personality wise or by appearance.

The two of them decide that they want to be able to escape and skip the issues that come packaged with newborns and toddlers, but also have a hand in the development process of their son, thus explaining the age they chose to adopt him at. This accomplishes both of these "goals" they have in mind, and it works out beautifully in their favor.

No matter their son's ethnic background, the two of them make a conscious effort to try and introduce practices, traditions, holidays, ideals, et cetera from their son's culture into their own as a means to keep him connected with his own past and history.

Although her job is connected with the military and does, to an extent, seperate her from her families for periods of time, that doesn't diminish the relationship she has with her son. He's fascinated with his mom's career, allowing for lengthy, in-depth discussion about what her job actually entails with him.

She and her wife are such good moms in general - always supporting him in everything he wants to do and encouraging him a thousand times over. There isn't a second in his life where he isn't being supported or loved, but it by his moms or the numerous different adult figures in his life.

Laswell gets in a fair bit of trouble with her wife for not disciplining her son in any way, shape, or form. She may have no issue with doing so with the military individuals she works with - she can be scary and intimidating when she wants to be - but with her son? She's absolutely a pushover.

Quits smoking the second she and her wife make plans towards actually adopting. It's a harsh line she draws, and one she abides by without hesitation or question.

VALERIA GARZA

None

Now, this isn't because I want to exclude her from this concept for any reasoning whatsoever, but rather because I can't really see her having or wanting any children in the first place. She's "El Sin Nombre", after all. And, in her defense, the cartel isn't necessarily the best enviroment for a child to grow up or develop in - surprising nobody.

She knows this fact better than anyone, and, having sworn her life to her role in Las Almas and the cartel, she chooses to not have any children. Additionally, she isn't going to be irresponsible and make herself vulnerable like that where, to have someone to love and care fore, only for the possibility of them being used as leverage against her later on hanging over her head, putting them in danger.

And, in any case, she has a breeding kink to make up for it, eh?

But, in all seriousness, as wonderful as I think she could possibly be with children in general, I doubt she plans on having or adopting children of her own unless she actually makes the move to leave the business of the cartel altogether - which, lets face it, with who she is and the role that she plays, is highly unlikely.

To make up for this, let's talk about her relationship with kids in general - be it the children of Las Almas and nieces and nephews that she has and interacts with.

She fits the "cool aunt" persona to a tee, always bringing gifts and/or cash to her younger family members, getting them whichever they desire, playing games with them, talking shit about people and listening to them vent, et cetera.

If the children have a problem with someone and, if aren't family, she has no issue doing something about it, be it using a scare tactic on them or completely removing the other person from the equation in more serious scenarios.

All the kids love her, no matter if they're family or if they know her or not. If she isn't busy and one of her men have a child of their own that they need to tend to while they're on the clock, she'll let the kid stay around in her office, so long as they don't disturb the peace.

VLADIMIR MAKAROV

One son and one daughter - ages eleven and five

Now, as cold, cruel, stoic, and heartless of a character that Makarov is, I personally believe that there would be select factors that would influence him to actually want children. Technical, albeit, and not for the sake of having someone to nurture and care for - at least, in the beginning - but I do believe that, for his own reasons, he would still want children as he progresses on later in his career and plans.

The only reason I could ever see for him to so much as bring up the concept of having children, in a way that makes sense when considering his character, would be due to the result of a close encounter that has him just barely scraping out of whatever altercation with his life to spare and hold onto.

He decides then and there that he wants to have a child - a son, specifically - who will be able to take his place and lead the groups that he controls and reigns over when he, inevitably, passes because, like he stated: "even I'm replaceable". It's a morbid phrase, yes, but it makes sense for him to have this be his reasoning.

He wants his replacement to be his own, too, and not for one of men to simply be promoted after he passes. After all, their ideologies, morals, and values could change over time and alter from his own, and he can't have that. However, if he were to have a child, he could foster and tailor their beliefs to match his own.

And besides, there's a certain charm that comes with saying his son is going to be the next in line. So, to his favor, he gets a first-born son, just as he had wished. His daughter, however, is completely accidental and unplanned/an abrupt decision when she is born/adopted. (In the context of pregnancy, though, its entirely his fault that she's conceived out of nowhere - wear protection, folks.)

For the longest time, his relationship with his son is, for lack of better wording, toxic - but this does change! If only with your intervention. All he wants in the beginning is for his son to be able to take over for him in the future - that being his sole purpose. And, unfortunately, he makes that a known fact.

Brings his son in with him to work on base often, working to teach and show to him the empire that he'll be taking over once his dad is gone. He gets a front-row view to the horrors his father is behind and in control of, be it the planning process for strategized and organized attacks, his cruel methods for dealing with traitors, and otherwise.

As much as he might, at heart, want to be a boy-dad, his relationship with his son is so strained and, frankly, falling apart, even if he refuses to acknowledge it, and so toxic in nature that it's only natural he becomes a girl-dad when his daughter is finally born. It's unfair, yes, but it's the truth of the matter.

He keeps his daughter far away from his work, shielding her completely from the badness of the world - the badness that he himself helps to create. She's his his pride and joy, and she's such a daddy's girl, leaving his son to fall to you, his other parental figure, for comfort and support - that of which his dad fails to provide.

COLONEL KÖNIG

Four daughters - ages two, three, seven, and fourteen

Interestingly enough, he's actually always quietly desired and yearned for a family of his own, though, he's never had any open discussions about it until it came to you. It's almost funny, the way that he's so awkward and tends to shy away from others any chance he's allowed to, and yet, he wants nothing more than a sizeable family for himself.

To have someone to fight for, to come back home to... it's all a soldier ever wants - himself included. And, for him, that includes a family that doesn't just consist of him and you (as content and happy as he is with it for now). The mere prospect of coming home to children of his own who can greet him and adore him is all he could ever ask for.

Though, even given this, he's especially nervous to actually become a father. He overthinks it a lot, wondering if his kids will even like him, going over the multitude of different ways that he could mess up even when he has no reason to. Because after his first, that fear melts away into enthusiasm.

Four children, especially when they're all girls, is a lot, yes, but he handles it with ease. He doesn't let the stress of it get to him, simply taking everything in stride and dealing with it rationally. He wants to preserve the positive relationship he has with his daughters, and approaching things from a logical standpoint is just the way to do it.

The true curse of the military - all girls, and so many of them, too. His younger children are all girly to an extent, too, so he's no stranger at a tea party and getting his make-up and nails done messily by his daughters. His oldest, although she may not be as girly, still has her moments, be it certain musicians maybe that she's forced her dad to listen to the entire discography of.

His girls love use him as a prop and character in their bouts of playing "make pretend". He's played a tree, standing still for them to climb all over, a dragon, protecting them from all of the bugs and critters that threatens to offend the, and even a race car, holding onto one or two of them as tight as he can and breaking into a sprint. It's strange and exhausting, sure, but he loves it.

Teaches his daughters to stick up for themselves - it's one of the first lessons he ever teaches them. Whether it be in terms of don't let people see you as a pushover, don't let anyone tell you what you can or cannot do, or stick up for yourself by any means necessary, he instills those ideals into his kids. Teaches his eldest how to fight, too - per her request - as another measure and precaution.

Although being apart of KorTac and being a colonel in general keep him busy and occupied and away from his family, that doesn't stop him from trying his hardest to be with them. He sends each and every one of his daughters, with the inclusion of yourself, gifts he picks up while he's away that reminds him of you all, just as a means to remind you all that he's here and he loves you.

COMMANDER PHILLIP GRAVES

Two daughters and two children (transgender) - ages seventeen, six, and thirteen

Both of his trans children, female-to-male, are twins

In his daydreams, he's always imagined himself with a family of his own. A nuclear family, the American ideal - married with two and a half kids, a dog, a big house with a white-picket fence, a stable job. The whole lot. That's all he's ever had in mind for himself and he yearns to make it a reality.

So, when the topic of children come up after the married, dog, house, and job things are already figured out, he's eager to speak his mind and give his input on the matter. He's got the biggest, most lopsided grin spread out across his face when he lays eyes on his eldest daughter for the first time, and that only solidifies his dreams.

Though, ironically enough, he always had in his mind that he'd have more boys than girls. He loves his daughters wholeheartedly and without shame, mind you, but... still, the sentiment remains. He always imagined himself with one, maybe two or three boys - someone he could play catch or watch sports with.

He doesn't get that, until he does, and his twins come out to him (albeit, at separate ages) as trans ftm. Of course, the whole "trans" thing is new to him, and while he may be a little clueless, seeing how happy it makes the two of his kids is more than enough to convince him him to put in effort and be the most supportive dad he can be.

I don't want anyone coming to me saying "oh, he's transphobic" because no he's not. He may fit that all-American persona of his to a tee, but I refuse to say that he would go as far to be transphobic or homophobic, especially with his own children. (Also, I'm petty, so you get two of them).

He fights and works hard to be present in his children's lives. He may be the Commander and CEO of Shadow Company, but that doesn't mean his men can't function without him from time to time. His family means everything to him, all of his time off being spent towards treating them.

Not the parent who pushes for his children to each be involved in a million after-school activities, but encourages them to take up something. His oldest plays volleyball, his second-oldest plays baseball, his second-youngest plays the drums, and his youngest dances. Takes them all to practice and helps them however he can.

Genuinely just copy and paste Jeff Sadecki from Yellowjackets and that's him as a parent. Except... with less of the drama. He's dedicated to being involved in his children's lives, making memories and having fun with them, telling horrible dad jokes from time to time, and whatever else.

SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO "RUDY" PARRA

One child (agender) - aged sixteen

He never actually planned on or anticipated becoming a father in the first place, more focused on dedicating his efforts towards his career and not spending more than a passing thought on creating a family. Not to say that he doesn't want one, it's just a concept he hasn't spent too much time thinking about or worrying over.

So, this means that you have to be the one to bring it up to him. And, granted, it somewhat catches him off guard - you want to try for a baby/consider adoption with him? Since when? It throws him off, to be honest, and he genuinely has to take some time to reflect and decide if this is actually something that he wants.

And, in your favor, it is.

He's somewhat nonchalant about the whole thing, not really realizing how big of an event it is until you're close to the due date/you're approved for adoption. And then it hits him full force that, yeah - sooner than later, he's actually going to become a dad and deal with the responsibilities of one and have a child of his own.

It's humbling, funnily enough, and he revaluates his priorities when it comes to his career, you, and child-to-be.

Even though he never anticipated or saw himself as someone who could accurately fill the role of a father, he's a good one. More akin to a close friend at times whereas others he can more accurately be described as a mentor, but it's important for fathers to share both of those factors, in a way. Which he absolutely does.

His child comes out to him before they reach double-digits, and its another moment that he has to pause for. Of course he's going to love them unconditionally, no matter if they identify as something else or go by different pronouns or want to use a different name, it's simply something he hadn't expected.

Doesn't really at all punish his child if they do something wrong. He'll have a conversation with them, sure, but it never truly extends to anything beyond that. Simply a "hey, don't do that again, okay?" and moving on with life. All that matters is that they understand and acknowledge their faults, in his eyes.

Involves himself in whatever his child is interested in and tries to understand it as best he can. They have a sport they're really into? He's buying them merch and watching matches or games with them. They're really into a certain video game? Start up a new save file, he'd love to play. Genuinely super supportive.

Does not at all plan on having another child. He's content with the one and, quite frankly, even one can be a lot at times. He can't count how many times he's had to go to those parent support groups just to ensure he's being as good of a dad as he can be.

COLONEL ALEJANDRO VARGAS

Four sons and one daughter - ages twelve, eleven, nine, and eight

His oldest sons are twins

The absolute definition of a family man. He, somewhat akin to Price, always imagined himself with a family of his own later down the line in his life - a large, lively one, too. He grew up in a larger household himself with a number of brothers and sisters, both younger and older, and he always imagined the same for his future family.

He's so enthusiastic about it, too. He isn't scared or worried at all, confident in his own abilities to take care of children, given his own extended experience, so he has little to no fear in what he'll be like as a parent or his own capabilities. He knows what he'll need to do, how to do it, what to buy, what to say, et cetera, so he's confident.

He doesn't really have a plan for what their ages will be, more so allowing everything to flow naturally, but he can't deny the fact that he has his own picture in mind for what he wants his family to look like. Ironically, he always imagined himself with more girls than boys, but it seems like life had... a different plan for him.

He loves it, though. He's extremely good with newborns and toddlers especially, and when he laid eyes on his twins for the first time, holding both of them to him, it was over. Plain and simple. With the first step taken, he can now fully immerse himself in being a father and cultivating the lives of his children, and that's all he could ask for.

His boys are rowdy. Especially his oldest twins and his youngest son, his eleven-year-old acting much tamer and calmer in comparison, but still has his moments. They roughhouse with one another, mess with each other, talk shit - the whole lot. Typical sibling behavior, yes, but they had so much energy.

Takes a lot of time off to be with his family when he can spare it. If he isn't physically out for an operation and instead is at the Los Vaqueros base, he sometimes will bring one or two of his children to stay in his office while he works. That is, if he doesn't up and leave to go home the second the opportunity arises.

Defiantly the one responsible for disciplining his children and dishing out punishment. It's not to say that he's cruel or mean in any sense, but he can be strict. If they do something wrong, he's quick to decide on a punishment that appropriate and relevant, dedicated to correcting that behavior as swiftly as possible.

He's an absolute pushover with his daughter, though. Not to say that he doesn't love his boys, because he does, but he'd do anything for her. Tea parties? Dress up? Make believe? You name it, no matter how embarrassing or emasculating it may be, and he's doing it if his little girl asks.

Messes around with his boys a lot. He has a positive relationship with all of them, one that's open and honest, which leaves room for him to be able to roughhouse and taunt and poke fun at them from time to time. They might have to be smart with their own words and responses, but he's making smartass, cheeky remarks whenever he can with a grin.

OPERATION OFFICER ALEX KEELER

One daughter - aged eleven

He's thought about having children before, yes, but never in a realistic context. For him, in the past, it's always been more of a "let me imagine a scenario of how myself and a future family would look" but never actively taking strides or realistically think about how he would achieve that.

So, when you bring the topic up to him, he kind of stills and... actually thinks about it. There's a difference between putting yourself in a scenario and imagining it, and actually taking steps to make it into a reality. He sort of panics, too, because... would he actually make a good dad?

He's the most apprehensive and anxious person out of anyone when it comes to considering the path of parenthood. Of course, he agrees, more than willing to try for a baby/go through the adoption process with you, but he's endlessly terrified of messing things up.

Even when he actually gets to meet and hold his daughter for the first time - he's a man who has no shame in crying, because he absolutely does when he sees her - that paranoia remains. But even so, it solidifies his goal to become the best father he can be for his little girl.

So clueless at first at how to even approach fatherhood, purchasing so many parents books and listening to an abundance of podcasts and going to classes and everything of the like. He's confident in most aspects, sure, but parenthood is something he's never dealt with in the past - it's no surprise he wants to do everything in his power to be the best dad he can be.

As anxious as he is, though, he, in my opinion, is probably the best father he could possibly ever dream to be. He's attentive to his daughter's wants and needs, can gauge her emotions correctly and acts accordingly, is responsible in terms of taking precautions to keep her safe, and he's present as much as he can be.

Number one cheerleader in everything she does. Whether it be getting a passing grade or an outstanding one on a test, he's hyping her up. If she joins and becomes a part of a particular activity of interest, he's taking her out to a celebratory dinner. All words of encouragement and praise from him.

Is a very active an present parent, too. Takes her out on little father-daughter days whenever he can to wherever she wants to go. The mall to look at the one obscure candle store? Sure, he's down. The zoo to go make up conversations between the animals. Absolutely. He loves hanging out with her, and seeing the way she lights up whenever he offers to take her out is all he could ever dream of.

COMMANDER FARAH AHMED KARIM

Two sons and one daughter - ages seven, four, and eight months

In the beginning, actually, she was very opposed to the concept of having/adopting children. Given her involvement with the ULF and that the current climate in Urzikstan was far from safe to raise any child in, she had no reason to even entertain the thought. Especially considering her own past, she was against it.

For a while, most conversations of having or starting a family were shut down by her - she yearned for it in the back of her mind, sure, but it wasn't a realistic goal. That was until she and Samara had a conversation about the topic, Samara telling her that while, yes, there were dangers to it, there's nothing more fulfilling than family.

So, after long deliberations, she began to consider it more heavily, leading to discussions where she finally agreed. She has her own reservations, fears, and anxieties about it, yes, but considering all the work she's done, she's allowed to have this. To have a child or children, to make her own family that loves her unconditionally.

She keeps her family completely separate and distanced from her work. As much as she's passionate about what she does, there's that lingering fear in the back of her mind that, one day, her family could get hurt or even possibly used against her as leverage if they're discovered. So, there's a clean separation between the two.

But it's all worth it when she meets her first born son for the first time. She's playing such important roles in her life - the Commander of the ULF, a resistance fighter, someone associated with Task Force 141, and one of the few key figures tasked with liberating her country in its entirety. But, now, she's more than that. She's a mom.

Even though she's never had children of her own before, she handles motherhood like a seasoned professional. Even before her other two children, she never got too overwhelmed with the work and responsibilities that come with being a parent, handling everything with a level head and a calm voice, turning out in her favor.

Though, she's somewhat a bit stricter with her children - not in the sense of being overbearing and not trusting them, or even that she has high expectations and standards for them. Rather, she wants to ensure the safety of her children and that their childhoods never turn out like her own, so she takes extra precautions.

She doesn't actually send her children to school, rather taking time to teach them herself - with your aid, of course. It's partially for those same reasons of fear and wanting to protect her children, but she's actually really good at it. She's taught her children how to write, how to read, how to speak two different languages... it's a way that shows how invested she is in her family.

As serious as she can be with her work, she's much more laid back and relaxed when it comes to her family - just another perk and upside, she supposes. With all the stresses she deals with, being able to come home to her sons and daughter, being overwhelmed with love - it's rewarding in a way she's never experienced before.

NIKOLAI

Two daughters - ages eight and three

He's always imagined himself with children, in complete honesty, even when he was younger - to have maybe one to three of his own. To your luck, he's open about it too, so he's actually the one to bring up the idea to you in the beginning, having no shame whatsoever in his willingness to try for/adopt a child... or two or three.

He isn't scared to become a parent, per se, nor does he have many anxieties or worries about becoming one, but there is still that subtle worry in the back of his mind that he won't be the most fit parent.

Everyone jokes about how he can be reckless and unethical, and he enjoys the banter, but it does make him self-conscious and second guess his own ability to be an adequate father.

He doesn't really consider or worry about what ages his children are, simply allowing things to fall into place naturally, as they should. He may have imagined himself with children in his own daydreams, sure, but there was never any clear specifics for age or gender he had in mind.

But once he actually gets to meet his daughters for the first time, those worries fade away partially - they still linger, yes, but for the most part he lets them simmer on the backburner, not allowing them to interfere with him as he directs his focus away from worrying and more towards becoming the father his girls deserve.

His daughters are just as much of a menace as he is. Maybe not in the "I deal with sketchy people on a daily basis and have done some questionable things" kind of way, but they have their own mischievous streaks like their father. Be it orchestrating pranks or smaller acts of the like, sometimes they even outshine the father.

He's playful by nature, yes, and he is with his girls, but you'll also never meet a more protective parent than him. He may be sly and smug and appear all cool and collected outwardly, but when it comes to his daughters, he's doing everything in his power to protect them from anything, be it people... or ants.

Likes to be his daughters' own personal jungle gym, letting the two of them hold onto him and climb all over him without a care in the world. Additionally, that means he makes for the perfect mode of transport for them, too - having them cling onto him as he walks around, moving them from one place to the other.

He can act like a child in his own right, but he's still a good father nonetheless. In line with that protective nature, he does everything he can to both foster a positive relationship and set rules and boundaries. Bed times, chores, punishments, et cetera - he's in charge of those things, and, while he isn't strict, he's responsible.

[chiipay]

HAIIIII

taking requests!? cool! ur the first person ive requested to on tumblr for a fanfic :DDD

can i request nagi, bachira, and isagi comforting, their s/o? i want the reader to have feminine traits but i want them to be gender-neutral if that makes sense-

-K :3

Uhh I live- sorry for months of not doing this- I uhh.... die and then live once again:) I'm not confident if I can represent correctly about the feminine traits but I'll try.

Also- I have no idea what the heck I am writing...

Tw: I think I accidentally made ooc Isagi- I forgot how his personality works-

Plot: gone too tired, you cried. (Me too honestly)

-- Nagi

Nagi keeps glancing at your curled up form and then proceeds to play his game on his phone- he's not heartless- he is. He's just really bad at comforting someone...well- at least that's what Reo told him. Here you are now, curling up into a ball at the corner of Nagi's apartment.

He looks back and forth from his game to your sad form of human, he's not good at comforting but it was him who's the one to commit the relationship in the first place with you. He can't leave his significant other depressing while he dazed off in his world, can't he?

He put down his phone, pausing his game which was a big sacrifice he did for you and he deserves a lot of affection for it, getting up from his comfy couch as he walks up to you, he crouches down to your height which still makes him seem taller, patting your head makes you raise your head a bit from your knees to look at him.

He looks at you, as he opens his arms widely, without a second thought, you latch your into him as if you guys could mix together in a blender, Nagi securely holds you up and walks back towards his lovely couch, picking up his pause game on his phone then proceeded to lay down with you on the couch.

Putting his head on top of yours as the silent room is now filled with gunshots that came out of Nagi's phone. ”mhmm...sorry, don't know how to help.” he pressed light kisses on top of your head while muttering a small sorry in process, your fist ruining his hoodie as you tighten your grip on him.

” you sucks at this, don't you Nagi?” leaning towards the crook of his neck, every breath you take tickles his skin to the core. ” I know.” he wiped a small shed of tears that runs down to your cheeks, ” and it's okay, because you understand.” he said flatly, his face remains in a casual look as he's not an expressive person, you couldn't tell if he's being considerate of you or not.

” I'm here, you're here. It will be fine.”

---Isagi

Isagi finds you crying in the worst situation ever, as it makes that even worse than ever when he doesn't know how to comfort you, he's so focused on football that he has no idea what to do when you cry for the first time.

” I'm fine...” you wipe your tears that keep falling out of your eyes, warm hands touching your face as Isagi pushes your own hand away and he wipes out the tears with a napkin instead.

You tried to cover your face which directly got pushed by Isagi's gentle hands that cradle your face as if it's fragile, ” there's nothing to be ashamed of.” his eyes soften when he sees you getting more embarrassed about being taken care of by the players that you supposed to be taking care of.

Kurona patted your head in comfort as he handed you his water bottle for you to drink, ” no, no tears.” you took the bottle and thanked him, then he left you two alone in an awkward silence.

” I'm sor-"

” don't be.”

” okay.”

-- bachira.

”(name)~” bachira hugs you from behind which scared the sh- out of you, you look at his cheeky face in a tired expression which he then returned with concern looks on his face.

He cupped your face in a loving way, his concern looked turned back into a big smile as he gave you a big hug, ” it's okay, I'm here.” he smiled, nuzzling into your hair, when he raised his head to see your face in expectation of your happy face, but all he got is you sobbing now with tears streaming down your cheeks like a waterfall.

” b-bachira....” you sob loudly, then you press your head deeper into his chest, crying like there's no tomorrow, ”woah! You really put an act earlier~” he giggled, he lifted you up from the ground then went to some more of a quiet room to have a talk with you.

[exposed-wires]

Oooo you wanna see my Ishimondo fankids oooooo

AGE: 18

HEIGHT: 5'10

WEIGHT: 172 lbs

BIRTHDAY: April 30th

PERSONALITY: Sohan can be described as overwhelming, and a handful. Taking into consideration their upbringing, it's no wonder their intense nature is a force to be reckoned with. They're nice for the most part; welcoming to the people they come by. A big stickler when it comes to safety too! Rules...not so much, though they're still abided by for the sake of their father. However, it doesn't mean they're one to look for loopholes- because they do! The more specific you are with wording, the less Sohan is capable of finding a workaround.

While they are an intense individual, when it comes to intense situations, they are surprisingly calm. Then again, that's to be expected for someone who's surrounded by chaos. In the heat of the moment, evading the enemy, the person behind the wheel is the one to keep the most cool.

If Sohan were a storm, they'd be the eye of it.

EXTRA:

• Sohan's non-binary in their eyes, but they don't mind however you view them as. If it be more masc or femm [like a fill in the blank]. VERY rarely will they refer to themself as 'he' or 'she', depending on who they're talking to. They are comfortable with the non-binary label though.

• Also, Sohan's eyes flare up [emit a flame-like aura] whenever they're concentrating or focused.

• People call him 'boiled rice' as a nickname. [Sohan means 'coarse' and 'boiled rice', but the direct translation of the word is 'contradictory'].

• They have a red crested cardinal named Ducky

====

AGE: 16-17

ULTIMATE: ""Tutor"" [Immoral Compass]

HEIGHT: 6'3

WEIGHT: 202 lbs

BIRTHDAY: March 24th

PERSONALITY: Daichi is a stickler for the rules. It's something he finds comfort in, is well endowed to- like a set of commandments. Sure, the process of abiding to them is... questionable, but that's simply how he is. It works for him, it should for others. Education is no different from it, though he works himself to be at the top. The prime example, or..no, not example; the best. Surpassing him in any matter is unorthodox- especially his field.

His sibling, Sohan, is an unremarkable waste of potential. Intelligence thrown away for whatever they do- so when they got a letter from Hope's Peak Academy regarding that very 'wasted potential'- suffice to say Daichi was not thrilled. Though when he himself acquired his talent far into studies in the reserved course program: he had second thoughts.

As a prime example of academic achievement, why on earth was he given the title of an Immoral Compass?

EXTRA:

• He's in the same class as Sohan, as he skipped a grade or two back in elementary. He is incredibly gifted, though his sibling is much smarter than he is [which upsets him, as they don't put good use to that].

• Used to be a reserve course student, until he acquired his... less than ideal talent [grinded for the view, hated how it looked].

• Daichi HAS to be 1st no matter what. Sure, he's inclined to help others with academics but they CANNOT surpass him. He freaks out each time someone gets a better grade than him [has broken multiple pens].

• He has a notebook for any subject, including notes on other people he finds 'interesting' [putting them under a microscope], his own personal thoughts [one which his older sibling reads through like a soap opera], and everyone's grades that he keeps track like fantasy football.

• Is REALLY really good at videogames, which is shocking for someone like Daichi.

• His eyes flare-up when he expresses great feeling of embarrassment.

• With his anger, it marinades instead of immediately exploding. Teehee it festers until it blows up MUCH later.

====

AGE: 12

ULTIMATE: Recess

HEIGHT: 4'6

WEIGHT: 90lbs

BIRTHDAY: June 9th

PERSONALITY: A happy go lucky girl who has a knack for playing games, Tokika is a ball of unmanageable energy! She's good at what she does, creating games of any variety to keep everyone capable of playing, and the stakes to stay high! She's having fun if everyone else is having fun! She gets along well with her older siblings, and at times she does drag them into playing dolls or boardgames- but they're happy to do so! 

Tokika is good at mediating conflict on the playground, your so called 'recess referee'. Though at times she does let both sides play out to find a middle ground so everyone's happy. 

EXTRA:

• If she had a highschool level Ultimate she'd be either the Ultimate Gamemaster or the Ultimate Devil's Advocate.

• She shares a birthday with her father, Mondo! 

• She's the one organizing family game night, and she INSISTS on it each and every time. 

• Tokika stems from the word 'Toki' (time), and 'ka' (fun). 'Ka' can also come off as a question based statement at the end of sentences, so whenever she asks 'time?' it's like she's saying her name, asking if it's time to play.

• Her eyes flare-up whenever she's on a winning streak. 

• Bit of a devil in disguise?? Just a smidgen.

====

The family's all here <33

I definitely need to post more, I'll try to post some stuff about them, I have some art in the folder kek :33

[crows-heart]

To us

rawdogging this shit it was meant to just be a creative writing assignment but it got too long for it so im putting the full version on here!!! i dont intend for this to get big or like have a part two but i am open to writing one (definitely not going to abandon this like i did with my last fanfic thing noppers)

simon riley x gn!reader, 1st person w/o use of y/n, string of fate soulmate au (i did write it gn but it stil feels feminine somehow so apologies)

cross posted on ao3!!

As soon as you turn 18, a string appears, forever attached to your pinky, that only you can see. Nobody particularly knows how this happens, but we’ve learned to not question it. It leads to your forever soulmate, your other half. Most of the time, the string was red, leading to your destined romantic soulmate. Sometimes, though, some people had pink strings, leading to their platonic soulmate. Other times, multiple strings would be knotted together in the middle. Very rarely did someone have no string, but it still happened.

You’re meant to follow your string, find your soulmate, and live happily ever after. 

I don't think that life was meant for me.

It started (obviously) when I turned 18. It was just a red string, nothing more to it, from what I could tell. It led east, and it always seemed to be slack -- slack enough to give the impression that my soulmate was much farther away than I thought they would be. That's fine. Just more motivation to explore the world, right?

I was always told to never lose hope, and that no matter what, I would reach my soulmate eventually. I just had to let “nature take its course” first. Yeah, I don't know about everyone else, but I started losing hope the more years that passed without the string getting any more taut. Sure, I could’ve taken initiative, but I was a broke 20-something year old fresh out of college. I hardly had the money for rent or any other basic necessities, much less a plane ticket or gas money to see where in the world my soulmate was.

That got pushed out of the way the moment the string started to fray.

It wasn't a normal phenomenon. The only times I ever heard about the string starting to break was when your soulmate was dying. It broke fully when they died. 

My string? It looked about one tug away from snapping apart.

I doubted I looked much better at the moment. The old lady I was sitting next to on the plane gave me a sympathetic look at my frazzled appearance, though I hardly noticed it since I was looking at the string every other second, watching for any more tearing. I bought the cheapest tickets on the earliest plane to Europe, hoping it wasn’t a waste to go across an entire ocean. I would start in Britain and go from there. The string was moving around a lot recently, pointing southwest for the first time and shifting around a bit, but it's finally returned to pointing east, and has stayed there, so I can only trust that my soulmate isn't moving anytime soon.

I did anything I could do to distract myself from the situation at hand. I tried watching movies, reading a book, even staring at the cabin wall to bore myself to sleep. I was desperate for a distraction. There wasn’t even any screaming and kicking children to keep me awake, but I just couldn’t sleep. I had too much nervous energy. My soulmate is dying and I don't even know who they are.

Finally, the plane touched down and everyone was let out. I was trying hard not to push people around, but I did bump into a couple people on my scramble to get out since I was looking at my string. It wasn’t looking any better, but it wasn’t as slack. That was a good start.

I tried not to get anxious as I got my luggage and headed out of the airport, but it was hard. Even if Britain was considerably smaller than the United States, it was still huge, and there's still so many people here. It was like I was trying to look for a needle in a haystack, but I had a terrible lighter to burn away parts of the hay -- the lighter being my string.

I throw my stuff into the first taxi I can find and wait as the driver brings me to the nearest motel. Like I said, I'm a broke 20-something year old. There conveniently was a car rental nearby, so I got over there as fast as I could. I didn’t have a lot of time to waste, especially considering how the string was looking.

It was facing north eastern now, just a slight change, and it wasn’t any more taut than it had been at the airport. It still looked close to breaking, enough for that anxiety to grow and grow. As I drove down the -- thankfully -- empty highway, in between flicking my eyes from the road to my string, all I could think about was what to say. Clearly, whoever was on the end of this thing wasn’t in good shape. They’d still be alive, sure, but what’s guaranteeing that they’re even awake right now, or that they’d even want to see me? I haven’t exactly tried to reach out, but neither have they.

Those thoughts are put on the back burner for the moment as a building comes up on the horizon. I slowed down, realizing I had been speeding up slowly the longer I was trapped in my head. The building was a hospital. The closer I got, the more I noticed. There were 2 trucks parked in the front and a group of men standing by the one closest to the road. The men seemed to be military, if their stature and general appearance was anything to go off of, but I couldn’t focus on any of that.

All I could focus on was the string leading directly to the middle of the group, leading directly to the tallest of the group, who was leaning against two others.

My breath hitches and I quickly park the car, not even bothering to shut it off as I throw open the door. I’m rooted in place, unable to move as the two soldiers lead the third to the truck. The third had his head tilted slightly down, looking like he was barely managing to put one foot in front of the other.

He must’ve noticed the way the string was, taut and insistent, as his head picks up and he turns as best as he can, eyes now staring directly at mine. Neither of us look away as he’s pushed into the truck. I take a step forward, but the truck starts and I can just barely make out the narrowing of his eyes as the truck drives further away, pulling him further away.

I should’ve taken the car and chased after them. Should’ve taken that tiny rental car and pulled over an entire army truck. I didn’t. Instead, I step inside the hospital entrance, trying to not sound like I’m insane as I stand before the front desk.

“Ma’am, I’m really sorry to bother you, but is there any chance you know of a patient that just left? He’s really tall, built like a brick wall, left just a moment ago with two others.” The words tumble out of my mouth as my hands grip the edge of the desk. The secretary’s brows furrow, looking up from her computer to take in my awkward grin and frazzled demeanor.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that information.” Her voice is firm, but sympathetic.

“Please, I- I don’t know who he is but he’s my soulmate and my string is frayed--” My pleas are interrupted by a gruff cough, a clearing of the throat for attention. My shoulders tense as both mine and the secretary’s gaze lands on the man standing just a couple of steps away. He looked to be a soldier as well, though maybe a bit older than the others I saw outside earlier.

The man wasn’t looking at the secretary, rather his gaze landed on me, softening slightly at my obvious distress.

“I migh’ be able to help you with tha’.”

The man introduced himself as John. He said he was the captain of the men I saw earlier -- Johnny, Kyle, and Simon.

Simon. My soulmate’s name is Simon.

It’s funny how quickly things change. Just yesterday, I was worrying over what to eat over dinner, and now, I’m worrying about my soulmate’s possibility of dying and first impressions. John warned me that he was a bit reclusive -- which explained why he hadn’t attempted to reach out to me either -- and had just gotten back from a near death experience. He was going to be jumpy, to say the least, and probably a bit too cautious.

The ride there to their base was quiet. I was stuck in my thoughts again, staring at my string, and John didn’t try to push for a conversation. The truck eventually rumbles past a pair of gates and parks, prompting me to step out. I follow behind John as he walks ahead, making sure not to stray too far behind so people know I'm with him and not just some random civilian who snuck inside. 

He leads me through the winding corridors, occasionally looking back with that firm, but slightly softened look. We come up to what looks like a common room, where the two soldiers I saw earlier were sitting.

“Where’s the third muppet?” John asks, giving a subtle nod towards me. The eyes of the pair were a bit unnerving, but I tried not to think about it. The string around my pinky was taut once more, attempting to tug me towards where my soulmate was.

“He’s in his room, sir.” The one with the hat -- Kyle, I suppose -- remarks. His eyes were on the captain, but his attention was divided between the two of us. “Dunno if he’s accepting visitors.”

“He’ll make an exception.” With that, John places a hand on my back and guides me to the hallway attached, giving another nod to prompt me to go. He stays back with the other two, probably to explain the situation.

Walking down the hallways leading to his room was nerve racking. I kept my head down and focused on the string, letting it guide me. There weren’t many people walking around, thankfully, but the few that were only gave me odd looks before continuing on. Eventually, I came to a stop in front of an unassuming door where my string was pulled under it. I breathe out a sigh and raise my hand to knock, the sound seemingly echoing in the rather empty hallways.

There's a grumble from behind the door, and some shuffling, but it opens inwards regardless. My soulmate stands before me, just as silent as I was. He stood tall, though with a bit of limp, likely due to whatever injury he faced that caused the fraying in the first place. His good shoulder leaned against the doorframe, supporting his weight when he couldn’t. The two of us stared at each other for a moment, still in silence. I snap out of it soon enough, my eyes meeting his, the same dark eyes that caught mine earlier.

“Hi.” The awkward smile was back, this time a little softer and less panicked. I could only hope that he still wanted me after all these years with no attempt to find him.

His expression was unreadable, making me unable to get a grasp on how he might react.

“Look, I know that we’ve never met, but I… I don't want to lose you before I even know who you are.” He continues to stand there, causing me to keep talking, if only to fill the awkward silence. “I couldn’t just sit and wait while our string looks like--”

Just like earlier, my rambling is interrupted. He moves closer, as if in a daze, and slumps against me, his body going limp in my arms. I go still, staring straight ahead, but I move only when Simon’s arms wrap softly around my waist. One of my hands cusps the back of his head and the other rests on his upper back, right between his shoulder blades, rubbing softly up and down while remaining mindful of any injuries in the area.

“... Hi.” He mumbles back, voice muffled by how his face was buried in my shirt. His voice was raspy, like how one might sound after shouting for hours on end, but it was comforting, though I doubt that was intended.

A warmth bloomed between the two of us and if I had looked down at our string, I would’ve seen the strands slowly coming together. Not fully, but it was starting to be a little more stable.

It’d take a while for the string to go back to normal, but I was willing to dedicate the rest of my days to it-- to us. 

[abusivelittlebunny]

Omg thats sounds so... i can't even find a word for it.

I had this thought though, and while i don't like liam he's eh to me, what would be worse is if horner was actually a dick to most people who aren't max (max doesn't see that side of him much if at all) and liam explains to carlos after sex one reason he's been trying to get horners child in him is so he's not booted out of his seat for an alpha cause sex with horner doesn't really do it for liam and his ditzy act is just that, liam tells him the second reason stating how he can't have his seat if he doesn't have sex with horner regularly as it states in his contract while also saying that he'd rather be with an alpha that actually cares for him and that if he had horners child he could atleast stop having sex with him for a while, liam also feels bad for doing this behind max's back but he doesn't really have a choice if he doesn't want to be used as a breeding mare for the rest of the redbull team.

Anyway sorry, i just find the au your building to be fascinating and i wanted to add to it, you don't actually make this a thing in it.

–🍑

Further yapping with spoilers below the cut!

This is a very interesting addition and I'll definitely take it into consideration because I also do want Liam to want to get married to Horner to keep his RB seat.

I don't think Horner is necessarily bad in bed but he makes it clear to Liam that he's just a good lay to him, nothing more, and Liam is very much hurt by it because yeah he does want to be loved and cherished, another thing he envies about Max who has multiple alphas devoted to him.

It is an utter punch to the gut when he tells Carlos he's pregnant and Carlos tells him to get rid of it (while looking away, unable to face Liam even if he wants to harden himself more than anything, he can't help it, maybe his father was right and he's too soft for this world, catching affection for any omega he takes to bed and immediately wanting to claim his offspring with pride and joy). It's not the reaction he expected at all and it breaks him.

Liam can't drive to the clinic. He just can't. He's too scared, too beaten down and Carlos grabs him by the elbow and drags him to the car, throwing him in the passenger seat and driving there himself. His frustration comes from within, he's mad at himself for not wanting Liam to get rid of the kid despite how this was the reason why he did all this in the first place. He is so full of tension he's ready to burst at any minute while Liam is sobbing next to him, clutching at his tummy. He's only two months ahead, but during that time Carlos has been fucking him almost every day even after his heat ended, barely letting Liam out of bed and even then it was just to feed him, which always ended with fucking Liam on the kitchen counter or against the wall or over the table or on the couch or the floor- at one point Carlos broke the bedframe and barely even thought about it, fucking another load into Liam before carrying him to the guest room to continue.

Sure, Carlos started out mean, downright evil when he first cornered Liam in the factory and barely pulled his race-suit off to wreck him against the nearest wall before taking him home with himself, but that was only in the beginning. Carlos had a tender side to him, one that kissed his forehead and pet his hair while Liam laid down on top of him, exhausted and drenched in sweat, knot stretching his full cunt, and one that took his time and effort when it came to giving him nice relaxing baths and washing Liam's hair and feeding him regularly delicious meals.

Carlos couldn't possibly convince him that he was heartless with the beautiful nursery set up right next to the guest room where his children slept when Carlos could have them stay over. Liam looked at the amount of effort he put into furnishing the room, the decoration and pictures all speaking for themselves; he was so proud of all of his children and had their birthdays all marked in the calendar displayed in large on the wall with specific toys each favored in separate cabinets and he kept a journal of their development and updated it daily.

Liam flipped through it secretly while Carlos was cooking him something delicious inbetween rounds, giggling and kicking his feet in fascination as he learned more and more about the alpha that never even looked in his direction previously.

He now knew the twin alpha boys he had with Max were most partial to a plush lion and plush tiger each. He knew that the alpha daughter he had with George was partial to jazz and could be instantly cheered up from crying when he sang to her and rocked her in his arms in a silly dance. He knew that Oscar's omega daughter fell asleep in the car almost as soon as she was put in it and that she rarely ever cried but was just as stubborn as her mother. He knew Franco's alpha son preferred yelling over crying like he was already questioning his authority and how Carlos can't help giving in and spoiling him which is a little embarrassing but he doesn't like to see him in distress so he can't help it.

He knew how much Lando cried to him until he was finally able to keep the fetus and how much it meant to the both of them. He knew how beautiful he found Logan when he was breastfeeding their alpha son and how he loved that he inherited Logan's beautiful green eyes but Carlos' dark curls but he didn't dare to tell him that. He knew of the regret Carlos felt for hurting Charles by impregnating his younger brother but how much he looked forward to driving Arthur to his ultrasound appointments and how it looked like they would have an omega girl.

He knew that while Carlos couldn't ever move on from all the hurt has they have caused each other with Charles, he couldn't possibly endure the divorce finalizing one day and how he wasn't able to let go of his hand when Charles was in labor, feeling his pain through the bond making it the most personal and wonderful experience of his life and how he wants to experience it again and again, give their beautiful alpha son Jules many more younger siblings and end this god-awful separation that is killing them both.

Carlos was a giver, even if he pretended not to be. He was a good alpha and a good father and a good man. He couldn't hide that soft side with Liam glued to his side almost constantly.

He did take Liam back to his own place eventually but his stay there was brief. Liam knew when Carlos kissed him goodbye in the doorway (after pounding him again for good measure in said doorway) that he couldn't possibly let this be a one time thing that they could pretend never happened. The next day he packed his things and drove back to Carlos' place on his own and he didn't even need to say a word before Carlos picked him up and carried him to the couch for round 2. And he made him pancakes after.

A man like that asking him to get rid of their child, however unplanned it was, seemed impossible. Even when they reached the parking lot of the clinic, Liam just couldn't believe it. He begged him amongst tears, promised he'd never bother Carlos again, not make him take responsibility just please, please-

"Go." Was all Carlos said to him, not even looking in his direction, just staring out his window and clutching at the steering wheel with an iron grip.

It shocked Liam into silence and after a couple minutes of slowing his breathing, he did.

He numbly opened the car door and walked into the clinic, feeling like his head was under water as he walked up to the receptionist. He knew he was being asked questions and had been given a form to fill out but he couldn't really understand it. He wasn't able to answer anything, pen slack in his hand and the paper too wet to write on. Wet? Ah, he was crying again, he didn't even notice.

What he noticed however was the front door busting open with the volume of a gunshot, and he turned in time as Carlos near tackled him to the ground with the force of how he ran into him. He thought for a brief second that he was in trouble but Carlos had his arms around him, picking him up and squeezing him so tight to himself it left bruises.

But the pain meant nothing when all Liam could hear was Carlos' breathless chanting of: "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please don't, please don't do it, please, please, I'm sorry, I want it, I want our baby, I want you to keep it, please don't go through with this, I'm so sorry-," right against his neck.

Carlos fucking ran to the car, still carrying Liam as if he was afraid that Liam might bolt the moment he lets him go and the sex they had on the backseat was nothing short of a complete rebirth of their affair. It was as if a wall has been broken down, Carlos couldn't stop saying how perfect and gorgeous Liam was as he kissed him all over, how he couldn't wait to see what a beautiful baby he'd birth for him and how he would have Liam move in with him permanently as soon as possible and he doesn't care what Max will say, he can't let him get rid of his baby, he can't, he will protect Liam and their child with his life-

And it suddenly clicked to Liam.

Max.

Max was the reason why Carlos was at the factory. Max told Carlos to make a move on him when he was on the brink of heat. Max was the reason why Carlos treated him so rough in the beginning, hurting him and calling him mean things while now he was his pure adoring self worshipping him in the backseat while the rain hammered down outside.

Max wanted him to get knocked up and then force him to abort it to hurt him.

Liam clawed at Carlos' rain soaked shirt until he ripped it clean off his back and cried out as he pushed his perfect cock back into Liam's cunt where it belonged.

He kissed the praises right out of Carlos' mouth and rocked back against his thrusts, begging him to fuck him harder and harder and harder and never ever let him go again.

Oh how he was going to make Max regret to have ever been born.

[vmbrq]

(about your ovulation / ethan landry post)

YES PLEASE YES YES YES

-

this is SO TMI but last night i was basically crawling up the walls with how horny i was for ethan landry, and i was so fucking confused. checked my app: i’m ovulating. makes sense.

BUT YES LIKE ethan wouldn’t understand why you’re so touchy all of a sudden, not that you’re not touchy but it was amped by like, 100. and then it dawns on him and he’s like “oh. 🤔 oh 🤭😏” like he has never seen you so feral for him before, and it turns him on so much to know you want him so bad. bonus points if you cry while you’re riding him because he feels so good and you’re so horny for him.

i’m dead died dead

i know it's been a minute since i made that post, BUT MY FEELINGS STILL STAND AND YOU'RE SO CORRECT. and whenever i'm ovulating, i feel like a werewolf chained to a tree during the full moon, so you're so real for that.

your behavior would be different--not intrusive or unwanted, just different.

but, he doesn't comment on it when you ambush him from behind while he's talking with chad, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his back to take a deep inhale of laundry detergent, aftershave, and something distinctly ethan. you'll take every available opportunity to have at least one hand somewhere on his body in public, whether you're casually rubbing your palm over his back or hooking an arm around his to keep him close or linking your pinky with his. you steal kisses off him whenever you can. you're more forward about wanting his attention, even if you don't always outright say it.

while he certainly isn't complaining, he just doesn't quite understand where the onslaught of affection came from. sure, you love him, and you very rarely shy away from demonstrating it, but this exceeds what he's used to. throughout the day, he remains blissfully unaware, never knowing that you're a solid four seconds away from popping the button on his jeans and taking what you need. the shifting of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he works through difficult homework questions, the defined sculpt of his arms in short-sleeve button-down, the earnest adoration reflected in his big, dark eyes as he listened to you speak--everything about him just looked so good.

how could you be expected to keep yourself in line?

he would refrain from inquiring until you two are in the privacy of one of your rooms, not wanting to embarrass you or put you on the spot in front of other people. but even then, he doesn't get much of a chance, because as soon as he shrugs off his backpack and turns around, you pounce, nearly causing him to trip over his own feet as you push him back onto the bed and climb atop him.

he's surprised, rightfully so. but you kiss him, and he's more than willing to let you. but his hands flutter tentatively around your waist as he tries to ground himself and sort through his thoughts. it feels as if his world has been flipped upside down. he simply thought you were being affectionate. was he wrong? were you trying to signal to him and he just never noticed? is there something going on?

"hey," he interjects when you finally break the kiss. his chest rises and falls beneath your hands as he pulls for oxygen, the collar of his blue shirt rumpled from where you'd drawn him closer, his eyes dazed and searching yours for an explanation. "hey, are you--are we..?" you shouldn't mistake his pause for rejection, he just wants to understand. he's rarely seen you this desperate for him before.

and when he finally does? when you, just as disheveled and breathless as he is, whine that you need him--that you need him so fucking badly, all it takes is a couple moments of consideration before he realizes what's happening with you. he swallows as the pieces of the situation click into place. fuck. you're ovulating. suddenly, your earlier behavior makes sense. your desire for his attention, your craving for touch, your insistence on being pressed as close as possible to him on the subway back to your apartment--you must have been feeling the full weight of its effects all day. and now that you have him beyond the view of the public eye, you can't wait any longer.

a hushed, broken moan of his name as you impatiently grind down on him is all that's needed to stir into creation a fire in the pit of his stomach. you want him--no, you need him. you need him. he can already feel his cock beginning to stiffen against your thigh, and the tip of his tongue flickers over his bottom lip. his gaze scans your expression once more, and his breathing grows shallower when he finally identifies that distinct glimmer in your eyes as sheer desperation and need.

at this point, he's certain nothing will be able to deter him from having you.

"how badly?" he pants. it's paired with a slight, teasing upturn of the corners of his lips, just testing the waters to see how you'll react. to see how deeply your desire runs.

he gets his answer when you, in a fit of irritation at his lack of urgency, draw him into another searing kiss that he returns in full. he gets his answer when you swat his hands away from your waist when he attempts to ease you down on his cock, your own pace much more reckless as you sink down on him without giving either of you a moment to adjust. he gets his answer when you pin his wrists down to the mattress, using them as leverage while you fuck yourself stupid on his cock. you treat him as if he were nothing but a toy for you to maneuver and utilize for your own pleasure, relentlessly pursuing orgasm after orgasm even as your thighs tremble and tears of bliss pool along your lash line.

for a moment, he wonders if you're too drunk on pleasure to speak properly. but your hands move from his wrists to his strong shoulders, and you dig your nails into his skin as you begin to babble mindlessly. "feels s' good. more, i ne--i can't--" you hiccup, a single teardrop slicing through the layer of perspiration blanketing your cheek. "need you to cum," you mumble. "want it inside."

"you sure?" he pants, eyes wide. "we've never--"

"ethan!" you complain petulantly.

shit. his hands, now freed and granted permission, move to grip your waist firmly. a squeal is punched from your throat when he meets your descent with a sharp, upward thrust of his hips, burying himself as deep inside you as possible.

he grins. fine by him.

[ikemenomegas]

Megumi is not good at cooking. Not the way that Tsumiki is. He remembers how she used to stretch their meager meals. To this day, he cannot perfectly recreate the warm kakitamajiru she'd made, powdered ginger, thin sliced scallion, white pepper. But she always could. She tells him there's no secret ingredient, but there has to be, if only that it's his sister's hands which made it.

That is not to say he cannot cook. He's good at following recipes. Gojo's more than once ruffled his hair in the morning, thanking him for the leftovers in the fridge (and despite his denial Gojo-san is picky). But it's never the same.

At first, you'd thought it was some weird, chauvinistic holdover and had been fully prepared to absolutely tear into Gojo about it. Megumi's a bit embarrassed about that (one of the few almost-fights he'd witnessed between the two of you), but he exhales softly as you wrap an arm around his shoulders, patting his hair as he leans against you in the kitchen.

You now think that it's funny, but it's also cute because when Megumi really wants to eat something that tastes better than mine, he'll do literally everything up to and including prep, and also dishes after.

He's young with time to learn, but it's considerate while also being sad. You do appreciate it, but before you all moved to campus, Megumi kept his own room tidy, made plenty of his own meals, avoided asking to do any kind of extracurricular which could cost you and Gojo either time or money. It was difficult to teach him to be a child and you'd never quite managed it with either Megumi or Tsumiki - both of them resistant to being taken care of, both of them too early acquainted with the reality that some people read care and saw burden.

Megumi leans against your shoulder as you stroke his hair, fluffy soft, a smile on your lips as you wait for a couple tomatoes to blanch.

You don't tell him he didn't have. You grin, remembering the adorable little growl he'd made last time. It's good to see him being a bit of a brat, comfortable with it.

"Thanks," you say instead, and he leans heavier for a second before standing straight, freeing your arm to dish out the tomatoes into a bowl. He even takes them to the sink, peeling the loosened skin, the mealy inner portion getting under his nails.

You are so grateful that Megumi has already sliced up the onions and put them in water just how you like them.

You're slicing the tomatoes into wedges, Megumi standing back at your shoulder like him watching you do this for the seventh time will finally give him the answer, when you start talking.

"You know, my mom used to make this for me. They've got a garden." Lots of people in the countryside have gardens. "And we got tons of tomatoes every year. And it doesn't matter how many times I make it. I think hers will always be better."

Megumi looks from your hands to your face and then slowly back again as you scrape the cut half up onto the flat of the knife and into a bowl and then start on a new one.

"She says the same thing about her parents' food," you smile. "Her dad's gyoza. She's very sure that filling is better than anything she ever made for us growing up."

The look on your face is so soft it makes Megumi's face warm and something comfortable-uncomfortable wanted-unwanted twist in his stomach.

You nudge him. "Save about a few slices for the salad?"

He nods and gets you another bowl to set the sliced tomato aside.

You set about putting together the rest of the meal while he trails behind. Blanching thinly sliced beef, pointing out what needed to be mixed for a gingery vinaigrette, stir frying tomatoes, eggs, onions, chicken, lotus roots, napa, noodles...

He mumbles an apology when his stomach growls as he's setting out two places. It's an awful lot of food for a night when Gojo-san isn't coming around, maybe he just had big eyes when he was pulling everything out.

You just laugh. "It's almost done. You can start, don't wait."

But he does, carrying plates from the counter to the table for you and giving you such a puppyish stare when you don't sit down fast enough it makes you abandon wiping down a spot of flour to pull off your apron an sit across from him.

"itadakimasu," he murmurs, politely pressing his palms together as you do the same.

He closes his eyes a little longer than necessary to savor.

"Yours still tastes better."

If you could reach him, you're pretty sure you'd be happily making his hair even more of a mess than it already is right now. There's a secret, complicated look on your face, although he's sure it's mostly happy. And in the end you just say,

"Thanks, Megumi."

"Mm," he replies, holding out his bowl as you offer him another spoonful of noodles.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 56 (Stress Relief)

cw: very low spice but skivvies and such 🌶️

Heather received sad news from Henford when Everett’s grandmothers, Agatha and Agnes Crumpcakes, died within weeks of one another. But Heather was so busy with Ash and work that she couldn’t get home for the funeral. "I'm so sorry, Everett," she said when she called.

"Heather, it's okay. With everything you have going on, I understand."

"I hate myself or it."

"Stop it. My grandmothers know you send your love."

She hung up and held her head in her hands. She was so exhausted, and Ash was up late, demanding a second bedtime story. She felt pulled in too many directions at once, unable to give the best of herself to anyone around her.

Conrad could tell she was stressed, and the next weekend Ash was at his father's. "Let's go on a date," he suggested.

"I don't think I have the energy to get all dressed up for a night out," she said honestly.

"Casual," he insisted. "We could take the animals to Deadgrass Isle and just relax for the night."

The wind in her hair on the boat to the isle did sound invigorating. "I might be terrible company," she warned.

"I'll still always be there, even if you're terrible company."

She gazed lovingly. "Alright. Let's go!"

They played with the animals and let them explore the grassy island, but as the night air cooled considerably, the isle slowly emptied of tourists.

"Come watch the sunset from the lighthouse with me," said Conrad. "The animals will be alright down here for a while. He had a flirtatious glint in his eye. His hand travelled down her back, gently caressing her skin through her jacket. Golden sun bounced off her cheeks. Conrad was captivated.

Two hearts over the door to the electrical room gave Conrad an idea. "Have you ever made love inside a lighthouse before."

Butterflies flitted inside her stomach. Conrad's left hand grabbed her by the waist as the right swung open the unlocked door. The room was empty, except for the switches and generators that powered the bulb, with piles of dusty wooden boxes covered in tarp.

They fell into an embrace, collapsing onto old blankets and carpeting that could have smelled better. But they were too hungry for one another to care too much about their surroundings.

Making love inside the two-hundred-year-old lighthouse, they stayed in their embrace until after sunset, but when they stood to get dressed an old tackle box fell from a shelf.

As metal fishhooks crashed against the wooden floors, Conrad whipped around to the sound but found nothing. He could swear he heard a dog growl, but Gord was chasing seagulls on the grass outside. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what? The fishhooks?"

"There's a dog in here." He looked around fruitlessly, but Heather laughed him off.

"Bella Goth always heard stories of ghosts and buried treasure on Deadgrass Isle. But she says the only ghosts are in the pet cemetery and if there was ever buried treasure it's long gone, now."

"I know it sounds crazy, but I could swear-"

"It could have been any dog, but so what if it was a ghost?"

"I've always thought ghosts usually have unfinished business."

"You solve mysteries all day at work and in your spare time you want to help ghosts cross over, too?"

He laughed a little at how it sounded. "When you put it that way...maybe, I guess."

"Maybe one day you'll get around to breaking curses, too."

"If Ash really was cursed, I wouldn't care what it takes. I'd solve it. But he's been doing great, and Dr. Serra said his last scans showed no long-term injuries."

Heather leaned in to kiss her sweet, handsome man. "I love you more than I'll ever know how to properly say. I just crumble trying to come up with words that don't make me an anxious mess."

"I know you love me," he said. "I love you, too. I don't need speeches. Just you."

She grinned. "Oh, you're a poet now?"

Ever the detective, Conrad was sure of what he heard, but after a quick visit to the cemetery so they could pay their respects to departed pets, they hopped on the last boat to the mainland.

It seemed inevitable; a matter of time before Conrad's innate curiosity would bring him back to the lighthouse... ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 1 Summary | Gen 1 Start

[mari-lair]

I’ve always found it strange how Aoi doesn’t have any female admirers, we only ever see guys attracted to her while Teru, someone who rivals her in popularity, canonically attracts both men AND women, you seem to be THE number 1 TeruKaneAoi fan, so I’m curious if you have any thoughts on that!!

It is quite strange! Even Yooko's big sister, a minor character, is described to be popular with both boys and girls. While our known beauty queen is only approached by boys.

So I do have thoughts.

Let's start with what is so heavily implied or explicitly told to us: Aoi's beauty makes girls jealous of her, so they obsess so much about what they lack compared to Aoi that they end up resenting her beauty more than being in awe of it. They feel inferior so they want to put her down, which is hard cause aoi excels at many things, grades, basket weaving, gardening...

(this Aoi with the music sheets draw is from when she was a kid, and kids are far worse at hiding their feelings, so I can imagine our multitalented Aoi is a better singer than the girl that 'unprompted' shoved her)

Boys also flirt with her, even those who are already in a relationship flirt with her, and it seems her lack of apology for something that she never liked, makes people assume she gets a power trip out of it, like seducing guys and playing with their feelings is a habit.

Their view is "There is no way the ice queen that is 'better than me in every way' have self-esteem issues, she is just playing with Akane cause she likes the attention, she is such a heartless man eater." Or something similar, probably.

Aoi doesn't allow others to get close enough to understand her and notice these rumors are nonsense so her bad reputation keep spreading.

Aoi is not a person to her peers, she is the 'perfect girl', a walking impossible standard' the peak of feminine beauty. Which I believe is a particularly brutal standard in Japan.

It's also something Minami will never have to fear: She is cool and pretty! But she is far from the kind of girl you'll see on a magazine for insecure girls, with non conforming short hair, boy-ish clothes under her minimal maid outfit, and an aggressive, unfeminine attitude.

It's A LOT of contrast for the 1 page Nanami was shown in.

But!

The way we only see Aoi being trash talked in flashbacks, never during the main manga, makes me believe that while this rotten crowd that blame on their problems on Aoi does exist and has been making Aoi's life harder since she was young, it isn't every girl that hates her, that's just Aoi's habit of focusing on the bad and blocking out anything else.

This is admittedly more speculative, but I like to headcanon that if Aoi paid attention to her surroundings and interacted with others she would have a considerable amount of female admirers.

Take Nene for exemple: To her, Aoi is perfect and awesome and makes hearts flutter! She is so beautiful and talented and nice!! Nene is undeniably an admirer of Aoi, she switches between interacting with Aoi as a friend and as a blind fangirl constantly.

Nene's gushing has many insecurities tied to it, it has a strong 'I wish I was like you!' quality, but most people who follow idols and love them to death also envy them. So if she smiled sweetly at other people instead of focusing only on her two friends, who knows how her female classmates approach would change?

Unfortunately, there is only this background girl that I have found directly interacting with Aoi, which isn't much.

What is going on nameless girl?? Why are you smiling with Aoi but your hand is clenched into a fist? Are you being a fake bitch and hating every second you talk with Aoi? Or are you nervous the beauty queen is talking to you?? Who knows! I don't.

The whole 'you're the ideal of beauty, the perfect girl, not an individual' is also why we see guys harass her.

Believing what they want from her is the truth. There is a lot of misogynistic undertones to the idea that their 'ideal woman' is someone that they are entitled to, but I'm getting sidetracked.

TLDR: The background girls are as obsessed with Aoi as the boys.

There are so many girls looking back at her here...

These girls wouldn't make wild speculations about how bad Aoi is as a person unless they paid SO MUCH attention to her every move. If Aoi ever approaches these girls and tries to be nice and sweet they would very likely not change their views of her as a bitch, but I bet they would grow overly alarmed and flustered, overthink the hell out of the interaction as they do with her interaction with other people and assume Aoi is actively trying to seduce them with her 'charms' or something just as wildly gay and off the mark.

After all, both boy guys and girls seem madly in love with Teru AND Aoi in the new timeline where she doesn't have rumors around her.