#screaming squealing bouncing in my seat kicking my feet

[vincent-sinclair-deserved-better]

@t33thys-tomb @ace-of-hearts-and-spades ily kissing ur faces

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Running from the Flames {22}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Warnings: 18+ only, hurt/comfort - this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

It was almost midnight local time when we landed in Montreal and Addie was fast asleep. I thought she was going to stay awake the entire flight the way she was bouncing on her seat with excitement, more than ready to see Pierre again.

For the first time, I was dreading it.

I had been awake for more than 30 hours, and I had spent every second of the flight dissecting every word we had exchanged on the short phone call. 

‘Are you alright?’ 

‘Fine.’ I lied. ‘You?’  

‘Don’t worry about me.’ 

‘I should have told you.’ 

‘We’ll talk about it later.’ The flight attendant had announced that cellphones needed to be turned off and Pierre had sighed. ‘Je t’aime.’ 

When was ‘later’? And what exactly did he want to talk about? My mind ran through all the possible answers to the questions and every scenario seemed to be more daunting than the last until the wheels touched down and my stomach lurched. 

Was the sigh one of sadness or pity or exhaustion? He said he loved me, that was a good sign. At least I hoped. 

I slung my handbag over my shoulder and picked up Addie, her head coming to rest on my shoulder as she remained asleep and I made my way out of the first class cabin. 

It felt like I was sleepwalking, my feet moving on their own accord and not through any conscious thought of my own. I’m surprised I didn’t flag the security as they asked me the standard questions when I showed my passport. 

“No, not here on business,” I replied in a daze.

“Anything to declare?”

I’m emotionally unstable and might just vomit all over your bench. “No, nothing.”

“Enjoy your stay, Miss Vowles.” He stamped the entry permit onto the next free pages of our passports before handing them back and waving me through to the arrivals lounge. 

Our flight had been full and arrived not long after Pierre’s was supposed to land, so there was still a large crowd despite the late hour. The sudden influx of noise stirred Addie and she lifted her head to look around at the families reuniting. Her eyes lingered on a girl a little older than her as she ran away from a woman and into the arms of a man, screaming ‘daddy’ excitedly. 

She had never really asked questions about her father and I wondered now what she was thinking as she stared at the three of them hugging each other tightly. 

Suddenly she started squirming in my arms and I grunted at the shift in weight as she kicked my suitcase from my other hand. I carefully lowered her to the ground before she moved in a way I couldn’t and was dropped but the moment her feet touched the universal grey vinyl flooring she took off.

“Addie!” I cried out as she disappeared into the crown and I rushed to chase her down.

I stumbled to a stop when I broke through the line of people and heard her squeal with joy as she was lifted into the air. 

“I missed you, princesse,” Pierre said with a grin after catching her and holding her tight. He looked up when Addie turned and pointed to me and the smile was lost as he took a slow step forward, concern replacing the joy his face had held. “Mon ange, you look…”

“Like shit?” I offered but he shook his head and opened his free arm instead of reaching for me. He had always been perceptive of me and it showed when he gave me the choice of his embrace, and I think he had a new understanding of why since seeing the interview. 

I stepped into his arms and wrapped mine around him and Addie. 

“You look tired, mon amour,” he murmured as he kissed my forehead. “Beautiful, but tired.”

“It’s been a rough few days,” I admitted as I looked up at him and saw dark bags under his eyes that hadn’t been visible on the many video calls he managed to make time for. “For the both of us.”

“The worst four days of my life,” he whispered before turning to Addie. “Have you been good for mama?”

Addie was frowning as she looked around the airport and it was like she hadn’t even heard Pierre. We followed her gaze and she was staring at the little girl she had seen before. It was only as they turned and left that Addie looked at Pierre, her head tilted to the side as she poked him in the cheek. “Daddy?”

My lips parted but no words came out as I looked at Pierre, his eyes fixed on Addie. I didn’t know what he was thinking as he kissed her forehead and closed his eyes and gently swayed us side to side. 

“You’re going to rock me to sleep, babe,” I said with a yawn as the days finally caught up with me.

Pierre chuckled and let me go so he could take my suitcase for me. “Come on then, love, the driver’s out front waiting for us. Wait, is that my hoodie?”

His eyes trailed over my body properly for the first time and I bit my lip as I gave him a twirl so he could see the GAS 10 print on the back. “You have so many, I figured you wouldn’t notice if one went missing.”

“It looks good on you, really good,” he said with a wink and a charming smile. “It’ll look even better on the floor.”

The shadow of doubt in my mind wasted away and I felt the tightness in my shoulders and back ease as I realised that while things had changed for me, our relationship was still the same. He was still my flirty and funny and sweet Pierre.

“With pick up lines like that it’s hard to believe you were single when we met,” I teased. 

“I must be a masochist because I missed your sass too.”

“English is a difficult language, it’s pronounced ass.”

Addie lifted her head off Pierre's shoulder and pointed at me. “Mama, naughty word.”

“Yes, mama is being very naughty,” Pierre agreed with a smirk on his face that promised I would pay for the comments later in the best way imaginable. 

Addie was asleep by the time we reached the hotel and Pierre carried her up to our suite, tucking her into bed with a kiss on her forehead while I watched the tender moment from the doorway. I could see why she asked if he was her dad. He treated her the same way she observed fathers treating their daughters and I had seen that lightbulb moment at the airport.

I just didn’t know how Pierre felt about it.

“She missed you a lot,” I said softly as he turned out the light and closed the food behind him.

He took my hand and led me away from our bedroom and into the lounge instead. “I missed her too.” I looked back longingly at the bed I could see down the hall and Pierre chuckled at the pout on my lips. “I know you’re tired, love, but we need to talk.”

I stumbled over the edge of the rug and Pierre stabilised me but I couldn’t find my voice to thank him as those thoughts I thought had been banished came rushing back. ‘We need to talk,’ was usually followed by something bad, and I had spent seven hours on a flight imagining every outcome.

“Hey, hey, you zoned out on me,” Pierre soothed as he cupped my cheeks and guided me back to his eyes. “Let’s get you to bed, this can wait until you’ve rested.”

“No,” I rushed, covering his hands with mine to stop him pulling away. “I won’t be able to sleep until I hear what you have to say.” 

He pulled me down on the couch beside him and draped his arm over my shoulders. It should have been cosy but he was upset as he absentmindedly rubbed at his beard and stared at our reflections on the dark tv in front of us. “What you did today, I can’t imagine how hard that was and I hate that I wasn’t there for you.” He turned to look at me with tears in his eyes. “I’m so sorry. And I am so fucking proud of you, Bri.”

“What?” I couldn’t have been more stunned at the direction of the conversation and my overthinking had led me down a rabbit hole that couldn’t be further from where Pierre was heading.

“I’m so proud of you, mon amour,” he repeated as he took my limp hand and kissed my knuckles. “I saw how hard it was for you to repeat what happened but you didn’t see the comments that were blowing up. In just a few minutes you changed a lot of people's lives.”

“What do you mean?”

He shifted around so he could pull his phone out from his back pocket and unlocked the device. As soon as I saw his finger going for the Instagram app I started to pull away with a shake of my head. I hadn’t reinstalled the app since reading the cruel comments in Barcelona and I knew I would only be more sensitive to what people had to say about me now. “I’m not ready…”

“I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you, ever. I just want to show you that you’re not alone, that your story helped other people.” His finger hovered over the icon as he gave me a moment to absorb his words. “May I?”

I didn’t trust my voice but I trusted him and gave a small nod. 

His profile picture was ringed to show he had shared a story and he clicked on the image. Immediately I saw dozens of tiny lines across the top of all the pictures that he had shared, the first one showing on the screen. 

Each one told a story similar to mine.

Some stories came from celebrities and the times that reporters invaded their privacy or their friends and family’s privacy. They talked about the harassment that bordered on obsession until they no longer felt safe in their own homes.

But those weren’t the stories that stole the breath from my lungs and brought tears to my eyes. 

It was the one from the unassuming young woman who I could have walked past on campus and never known it. It was the one from the middle aged woman with wisps of grey streaks in her hair. It was the one from a man around Pierre’s age that had the same fluffy hair poking out from under his cap.

They all told me the same thing. They all told me that I was wrong.

I had said I didn’t want the world to know my shame. They told me I had nothing to be ashamed about. They said that what happened to me, and to them, was not a reflection on who we were and the real shame was that we were made to feel like it was our fault. 

I remembered that internalised guilt and blame. I remembered wearing long sleeve shirts in the summer heat to hide the bruises of his grip, but I had stayed out too late with my friends and I should have known better. So I slowly lost touch with those friends, isolating myself further from all the support that could have helped me. 

My vision blurred until I couldn’t see the next story and a sob broke the silent night.

Pierre tossed his phone onto the coffee table and pulled me onto his lap as my hands locked onto the thick fabric of his hoodie. The sobs wracked my body and he held on to me as tightly as I held on to him, letting the feeling of shame wash away with the tears that fell.

“Thank you, Pierre,” I whispered with my cracked and broken voice. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied weakly, the disappointment in himself palpable.

I leaned back so I could look him in the eyes as I brushed his hair back. “You stayed, when any sane person would have left.”

“Always,” he promised sincerely before his lip curved up. “Shows how crazy I am for you.”

His smile cracked into a grin when I snorted at the line and rolled my eyes. “You’re a doofus.”

“But you love me.”

“I do, Pierre, I really do.”

“I love you too.” He started to lean in for a kiss but I planted my hand on his chest to stop him. 

“Before you distract me, we need to talk about something else.”

It was his turn to look apprehensive as he leaned back. “Okay…”

“Daddy?”

His eyebrow shot up in question. “You want to call me daddy?”

“Oh god, no, maybe papi chulo,” I wheezed as I clutched my stomach and laughed. “Addie called you daddy.”

His smile returned. “I know.”

“So…you’re okay with that?” 

“I’ve always wanted kids, and I don’t care that she’s not biologically mine, I want to watch her grow up and take her to football training or ballet or whatever she wants to do. I love Addie, and when I think about the future I can’t picture it without you and her in it. So yes, of course I am okay with that, if it’s alright with you.” His eyebrows pinched together as he thought perhaps he had overstepped. “Is it alright with you?”

“Gah, now you’ve done it,” I sniffled. “Bloody happy tears.”

“Happy tears I can handle,” he chuckled as he wiped them away, his thumbs brushing over the dark bags that hung under my eyes. “Let’s get you to bed, mon amour.”

I draped my arms around his neck and curled into him. “I’m too lazy to move, I’ll just sleep right here.”

Pierre’s hands cupped my backside to support my weight as he stood up and I wrapped my legs around his waist with a yawn. I didn’t even feel him lay me in bed. My body and my soul knew it was home in Pierre’s arms and I could finally sink into sleep without my demon’s breathing down my neck. 

He had chased them all away. 

Click here for chapter twenty three.

Tagging: @my-only-way-tocooperatewithlife @prrttysposts

[munson-blurbs]

Congratulations on hitting 2k followers! Could I possibly request Steve/skatepark (or roller rink)/bandaids?

This absolutely screamed Dad!Steve, so here ya go!

Warnings: mention of blood

WC: 922

--

“Daddy, are we there yet?” a tiny voice calls out from the backseat of the Harrington minivan.

“Almost, princess,” Steve replies to your four-year-old daughter as he drives into the parking lot and pulls into the first spot he can find. The skate park is always busy on weekends, and this Saturday morning is no exception.

“We’re here!” Izzy shrieks excitedly, kicking her feet. When she looks out the window and spots Max unloading her own skateboard and a much smaller one from the trunk of her Toyota Corolla, she squeals even louder and frantically waves. “Auntie Max! Auntie Max!” 

Max glances over with a huge smile. “My Dizzy Izzy!” she shouts, barely waiting for Steve to kill the engine before bounding over. Even in her early twenties, she has as much energy as she did when she was fifteen. She slides open the van door, scooping Izzy out of her car seat and groaning exaggeratedly when the little girl envelops her in a giant bear hug. “Did you get stronger? Let me see those muscles!”

Izzy flexes her tiny arms and growls, making the three of you laugh. “You’re gonna be stronger than mommy soon!” Max exclaims, making Steve frown.

“What about me?” 

“Oh, she’s already stronger than you are,” Max teases, gently placing Izzy on the ground.

“Yeah, Daddy,” Izzy pipes up. “‘Cause girls are stronger than boys!” She looks up at her red-headed role model and gives her a high-five. You take one hand and Max takes her other as you head towards the park gates. 

Izzy snaps on her My Little Pony helmet—with matching elbow and knee pads, of course—and whines, “I can’t move!” She walks stiffly, reminding you and Steve of the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz. “How am I gonna skate like Auntie Max?”

“You’ll get used to it,” Max assures her. “It’s more important to be safe. I’m wearing my helmet too, see?” She knocks on the blue helmet that rests atop her hair. “And I wore all that other stuff when I first started out.” That part’s a lie, but Izzy buys it, already magically able to move around easier than she did moments before. 

“Okay, Wonder Woman,” Steve crouches down to her level. “Remember our rules: listen to Auntie Max, keep all your gear on, and…” He pauses, chuckling at his daughter’s puzzled expression. “And have fun!”

Izzy giggles, grabbing Max’s hand and pulling her towards the ramps. You watch your fearless baby with pride, though your gaze is quickly drawn to your husband’s bouncing leg. 

“Y’okay?” you ask, placing your palm over his knee to calm him down. 

“No? Yes?” He shakes his head and runs his fingers through his hair. “I keep thinking, ‘What if she gets hurt? What if she gets discouraged and doesn’t wanna skate anymore?’ And then I feel guilty, because it makes me kinda happy that I won’t have to worry about her getting hurt.”

You press a kiss to his cheek, lifting your hand from his leg so you can lace your lithe fingers through his thick ones. “Steve, even if she never got on a skateboard, kids get hurt. She could roll off the bed, but that doesn’t mean we’re gonna make her sleep on the floor,” you tease gently. “But look at her go!” You point to Izzy, who is standing on the board while Max pulls her. She’s smiling wider than you’ve ever seen. “That’s our girl! We made that little badass!” You knock your knee against his, and you feel him relax a bit.

That relief lasts all of two seconds, which is when a boy of about ten years old flies by Izzy, knocking her off balance. She lands square on her bottom, and it takes a beat for her to process what’s just happened. You watch as her little face contorts and tears slip down her cheeks. 

“Izzy!” You call out, turning to Steve to gauge his reaction. But he’s already sprinting to your daughter; you’ve never seen him run so fast. You’d be amused if you weren’t so concerned about Izzy. 

Steve picks Izzy up, checking for bumps and bruises. There’s a scrape on her right palm that’s starting to bleed. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says softly, digging into his back pocket. He pulls out a handful of band-aids and quickly rips one open, adhering it to the cut. “See? Good as new!” He puts her back down next to Max. “Now you can skate again.”

Izzy seems hesitant, so you crouch to her level and wipe away her tears. “I bet Auntie Max fell when she was learning.” You look up at Max for confirmation. 

“Are you kidding?” she laughs. “I still fall. Like, all the time.” She smiles at Izzy. “Iz, if you don’t want to skate anymore, I won’t be mad. But I think you’re really, really good. And I’d love to see you try again.”

“Okay,” Izzy says slowly, glancing at you and Steve for approval. 

“Go kick some butt, princess,” Steve tells her. He wrinkles his nose. “Wait, do princesses skateboard?”

“Duh, Daddy; princesses can do whatever they want!” Izzy replies, picking up her skateboard. “C’mon, Auntie Max!”

As you and Steve meander back to the park bench, you give his hand a squeeze. “You handled that like a champ, babe,” you say. “And good idea bringing those band-aids. I didn’t even think of that.”

“Y’know what they say,” he grins, “you can’t turn off Dad Mode.”

“Who says that?”

“Um, me.”

--

[cherryberry-sugarandspice]

Mi niñita

Sad Miguel Hours Once Again

CW: grieving, loss of a child, dreaming

Miguel stands on his platform, burning dry eyes staring past the orange screens. His hands move on their own, pushing aside pointless monitors and bringing forth what they think is important. Only his eyes don't look at them. They've lost their light, a heavy frown set to his lips, and he drops back into his seat, massaging his temples.

His heart and soul aches the moment he closes his eyes and sees the little girl with sparkling brown eyes, beaming up at him. She reached out her tiny little hands, asking to be held. "I did it! I did it, daddy! My team won!"

I'm tired.

Miguel forces his eyes open, but they felt as though they were glued together. He slouches over, elbows digging into his thighs, hands covering his face. Tears threaten to spill from his eyes, his chest constricting. A blade traces the outline of his heart, the sharp tip poking at the muscle. He tries to block the memory out, but it's on lonely nights such as these, it's all he can think about.

Her little face continues to bombard his mind. From smiling to pure terror, brown eyes wet with tears.

She's confused, not sure why the world is collapsing. But she held onto him tightly as he hugged her close, running aimlessly towards a unknown destination. Why run? He already knew what was going to happen, yet there was that sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe she'll live.

"Dad?" she whimpered out in fear, reaching up to touch his face. Her small body began to disappear, fizzling out into the air. Miguel watched in horror as his little girl ceased to exist, her body growing lighter, her voice high-pitched as she screamed, "Dad! Dad, no-!"

It's all my fault.

Miguel groans, blowing out an angry breath. He accidentally digs his talons into his palms and retracts them back into the pads of his fingers, the physical pain almost nothing to him now. He already faced the pure agony of losing his daughter. Nothing will ever effect him the same way every again. He eyes the way the crimson liquid beads up from the puncture wounds and trickles down his palms, leaking onto the floor.

He leans back into the chair, empty eyes staring up into the ceiling.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, voice barely above a whisper. He hopes she can hear him. Hopes that she see the regret that weighs heavily on his shoulders. "I'm so sorry, mi niñita."

Miguel falls asleep, a singular tear trickling down his cheek.

Yet when he opens his eyes, he finds himself in an open field. He blinks, standing to full height, guard up. He flexes his talons, eyes scanning his surrounds, right until he spots her.

Gabriella.

She's running around the field kicking a soccer ball, squealing in delight. She bounces it on her feet before delivering one last kick and making a goal. She jumps up and down excitedly, clapping her hands.

Gabriella then turns to face Miguel, smile growing larger. She runs up to him and around in a circle, laughing.

"Did you see that? Did you see that? I made a goal!" Gabriella cheers, hugging his leg. A steady stream of tears trickle down his face and it soaks into her hair. She looks up, taking a step back, tilting her head curiously. "Daddy? What's wrong? Why are you so sad?"

The floodgates finally open. His walls come crashing down. He tried so hard to contain it, but it's now broken.

Miguel drops to his knees and hugs his daughter, wailing. "I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! I-I didn't mean-" didn't mean to kill you "oh, my sweet heart, can you ever forgive me?"

His body shakes violently as he wails, hugging his little girl close. "I can hardly live with myself for what happened to you. My beautiful angel. My sweet, baby girl. I'm so sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"

Miguel chokes on a sob, his vision blurred by tears. He lived in regret every wake moment since the incident. He hardly got any sleep for weeks after. He busied himself in work, projected his own fears and insecurities onto others, but at the end of the day, he still recalls the night he killed his daughter.

I didn't mean to.

His heart caves in on itself and he wails, as if he was a child himself.

You were everything to me.

He hugs Gabriella close, screaming out his cries.

You were the reason why I smiled.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

How can I even call myself a father when I'm the reason you're gone?

Miguel's crying comes to a full stop when Gabriella pulls back and cups his face with her tiny hands. She smiles at him, not a single trace of anger or hurt in her expression. She wipes away his tears and kisses his cheek, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"It's okay, daddy, I forgive you," she said, her words melting the ice off his heart. "Please don't be mad at yourself anymore. Please, daddy, be happy again."

Miguel hugs her tightly, a small smile forming on his face. He hugs her close to his heart, enjoying this last moment of hugging his little girl again. The only time he was ever truly happy was being her dad, and he's not sure if he'll ever be happy again, but for her sake, he'll try.

"Okay, mija, I'll try." He pats her head, squeezing his eyes shut. He doesn't want to let her go, but he knows that one day, he has to.

"I love you, daddy," Gabriella says as her body turns into dust, disappearing from his arms once more.

"I love you too, mi niñita."

Miguel looks up to the blue sky where she disappears to. He holds his hands out towards her, his smile dropping, teeth clenched.

No, please, come back.

He curls into a ball and proceeds to cry.

Miguel will try being happy for her, but for now, he'll grieve the loss of his little girl.

I love you, mi niñita.

[dilf-whore]

thunderstruck

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

genre: fluff

summary: you and Eddie watch your kids’ talent show

A/N: i had this idea for a long time now, I just really love dad!eddie lol. let me know your thoughts on this fic💙

requested: no

requests are OPEN

masterlist

𖤐

“Honey, we’re the only ones here” you whisper at your husband as you both enter the school’s theater. “It’s alright. Come on!” He says, dragging you into the front row and sit down, you bring out your camera and Eddie settles the folded, obnoxiously big banner on his lap he made that says: Go my little rockstars! 

It was Roxy’s and her little brother Ozzy’s talent show today and their dad was just too excited so you both arrive an hour early. Your kids are two years apart, both in middle school and they will be performing as a duo: Roxy in the guitar and main vocalist, Ozzie in drums and sub vocalist. They both got really into music when they started fondling over your old drum set and Eddie’s guitar when they were younger. When Eddie saw them, he squealed in delight and immediately told you to start teaching the kids. They were fast learners and soon you all started to have jamming sessions together, Eddie even calls your family band The Virtuosic Munsons.

After an hour and a half, the theater was already filled by parents and school faculty. Layla Higgins who took after her father and became principal of Hawkins middle school, goes into the center stage and gives a brief message to the audience. Eddie nudges your elbow and you lean closer, “she sounds exactly like her father” you cover your mouth as you try to suppress your laughter, remembering the fake annoying voice Principal Higgins would use whenever he’d talk in front of the parents back when you were still in high school. His reaction when Eddie gave him the finger during graduation was still engraved in your mind. Your eyes suddenly land on the familiar figure in the corner, “look he’s actually here” you whisper to Eddie, spotting your former principal now all old and wrinkly sitting at the corner together with some of the teachers. 

“Now for our last performer, give it up for Roxy and Ozzy Munson!” 

You turn on the camera and Eddie lifts up the banner as you both jump and scream on your seats in excitement, “Whoooo, let’s go!” he cheers as your kids go on stage. They were wearing some things that belonged from you and Eddie: your daughter was wearing your leather jacket and one of her dad’s ring as the pendant of her necklace, your son wearing his dad’s denim vest and your drumstick in his hands. You were very touched as you remember them saying how they feel safe whenever they have something you and Eddie own. 

Roxy stands beside her brother and they look at you nervously, you give them a thumbs up and blow them a kiss. “You can do it” you mouth. She lets out a shaky breath and starts the first riff of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck, you and Eddie already start to get crazy - your husband aggressively lifting the banner up and down. 

“Thunder!” the two starts to chant, their small adorable voices making your heart flutter. They just sound so angelic over a badass metal song and it was so cute. You and Eddie start to palpitate, adrenaline taking over as you anticipate for the first verse to start. “I was caught, In the middle of a railroad track” your daughter sings, your husband already kicking his feet - he’s just so ecstatic. 

“I looked 'round, and I knew there was no turning back” she continues, sassily waving her pointer finger as she starts to gain confidence. 

The chorus comes and Ozzy’s has already loosen up, moving his head along the beat he plays. The song continues and you look around, the audience were bouncing their legs, tapping their fingers, impressed smiles on their faces. 

Eddie’s arms were exhausted, but he didn't put the banner down even once. He felt all warm and fuzzy inside, seeing his beautiful kids in front of the stage and playing their hearts out. He really couldn't hold it any longer - he can’t stay seated anymore, “fuck it” he says to himself. He grabs your arm and pull you as he stands up, you didn't protest and follow him. You don’t even care if you’re blocking the people behind you, all you care about is showing your kids your support. 

“You’ve been, thunderstruck!” you and Eddie start to sing along with your kids, jumping up and down as if you were at a concert. 

Your former principal sees you both and shakes his head, it’s what he used to do whenever he sees you and Eddie get in trouble but instead of looking disappointed, he now has a small smile on his face. Still the same Y/N and Eddie he thought.

𖤐

The talent show finally comes to an end and you meet your kids outside, you all go into a group hug and pepper them with kisses. “Mom, people are looking” Ozzy whines. Eddie takes their things and slightly crouch down to meet their eyes, “we’re so proud of you both”. “We love you” you add. You and Eddie are indeed proud of them, they worked really hard and took time to learn the song. They were so good, they even managed to make the audience lively and clap along the beat from time to time. 

“Well, we won’t be this amazing if we didn't have such talented parents. Thanks for teaching us by the way” your daughter says, putting an arm around her little brother.

You hold on to Eddie’s hand as you all head back to your car. You fasten your seatbelts and Eddie starts the engine, Master of Puppets starts blasting through the stereo. “Do you think we can play this song like you and Mommy?” Ozzy asks.

“I know you can” he replies as he drives, bringing your kids to their favorite: McDonald’s.

𖤐

[erodasfishtacos]

Not So Easy

prompt: Harry and Y/N have both had a rough week. Ivy is in the prime of her terrible twos. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

word count: 6.2k

warnings: swearing, smut, a little angst

AN: Fulfilling this request ***. This is part of the CEO!Harry verse. If you enjoy please like, reblog, and come chat with me about it x 

*** <--- click for visuals

-----

It was a gorgeous, cool Saturday evening and Y/N had been cooped up in the house all week due to nasty rainstorms that lasted the whole week. All of Y/N’s friends had canceled plans for one reason or another. Anne came down with flu and couldn’t visit like she was suppose to.

Harry had an extra awful week at work - which was saying something - and hadn’t been able to let it go. The frustration and irritation he usually was good at leaving at the office at the end of the workday hadn’t been happening.

Ivy was in the midst of her terrible twos and quite frankly it was disaster for all of them.

They decided on one of their favorite restaurants about an hour outside of London near the beautiful, green countryside. ***

It was a family-owned Italian establishment with outside seating on the patio. The tables were filled but Harry always managed to squeeze himself into a non-existent reservation with his charm (and wallet).

When they’re escorted onto the deck, Ivy had Harry hitched up on his hip and wriggles her into her wooden high-chair with little difficulty - she had just woken up from a nap and was in a seemingly okay mood.

Y/N notices a few pairs of eyes watching them from the table close to theirs but decided that she was just being paranoid. And if she brought it up to Harry she knows he’d immediately tell them to fuck off and mind their business. 

They get Ivy settled with her favorite little sensory book and her plush baby doll ***, as they look at the menu, “I’m so hungry,” Y/N grumbles, unable to decide what she wants to eat, Ivy literally running her around all day with no time for refueling.

“Me too, y’didn’t let me finish my meal earlier,” Harry murmurs cheekily, looking at his wife over his menu with a raised eyebrow, “Guess I’ll just have to wait for dessert.”

“Baba’s asleep, she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow,” Harry tells his wife, trotting in their bedroom. He’s already stripping the shirt off his head and wriggling his running shorts down his narrow hips.

Y/N’s laying on the bed, too distracted by her romance novel to notice Harry’s actions - well until he yanks at her ankles until her bum skids towards the end of the bed, she lets out a surprise yelp at her husband’s strength.

He plucks the book from her hands and tosses it to the floor with a thump. His hands are hurriedly reaching to pull down her shorts and panties with impatience at having his wife bare before him.

“Someone’s a bit horny,” Y/N teases, raising her hips to let him slide them down before they join the book on the floor. He ducks down to bite at the soft skin of her hip bone, suckling a dark mark there in ownership.

“Have y’seen yourself, pet?” Harry replies lowly, unable to help himself as he dips down and swipes a long, languid lip up her center with no warning. It has her moaning and pushing herself into his mouth.

“We don’t have long, H. Need you in me,” His wife whines, pulling him up by his hair until he’s slipping his tongue right into her mouth, wasting no time to hike her hips up around his waist and pushing in with one strong, directive thrust.

Y/N blushes and darts her eyes back down to the menu, “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you.”

Harry laughs, eyes wrinkling around the corners, “Y’know even when I’m not good, y’let me.”

It was very very true.

“Oops!” Ivy squeals when her doll falls to the ground. It was one of the new words she’s finally understood in context and it’s unbelievably cute to hear her high, little squeaky voice.

“S’alright, here you go bab,” Harry titters, reaching down to toss it back onto the table for his daughter. She looked so fucking adorable tonight in what Y/N had dressed her in a little Gucci jean jacket with matching jeans. ***

Ivy manages to keep herself pretty occupied until she needs a diaper change. The meals had just arrived, steaming hot and smelling like heaven, but Y/N slings their diaper bag over her shoulder and totes the baby off to the bathroom.

Harry watches them, like the protector he is until they make it to the bathroom safely. He can sense eyes on him (the same group Y/N thought was watching) but unlike his wife, Harry makes eye contact with the table who were staring directly at his wife and then him.

“Can I fuckin’ help you?” Harry asks bluntly, not hesitating to stare down every single person at the table. He didn't want anyone staring at them, staring at Y/N, staring at Ivy. He wanted to enjoy his dinner in peace with his family. He assumed they probably worked for him.

They avert their gaze from the intense man, acting nonchalantly and sipping at their glasses filled with wine as if they weren’t just staring at them. It makes Harry scoff loudly enough so that they can hear it.

When Y/N appears back with Ivy and attempts to plop her back into her seat, her limbs go wiggly and her eyebrow knits with refusal, letting out little kicks, “No mummy, no!”

“Baby, we’ve got to eat now. How ‘bout after we’re done?” Y/N hums in her daughter’s ear, attempting to steady the toddler’s legs to slide into the slots of the chair. 

Y/N knew it was going to be a struggle since Y/N told Ivy she couldn’t have the big stuffed animal that was in the gift shop on the way to the bathroom.

“Mummy! Don’t wanna!” Ivy protests loudly, her face pinched with her terrible twos anger as she squirms and twists in her mother’s grip.

“S’okay, give her to me,” Harry tells his wife, taking Ivy in his lap. She smiles with deep dimples up at her father before going to reach her little fingers into his pasta. “No, Ivy. S’hot, it’s goin’ to burn you.”

Ivy pulls her brows together, decidedly not liking what her dad had to say, because she’s reaching out once again. “Ivy, daddy said ‘no’. Be a good girl and listen.”

“Mine.” Oh god, her favorite word at the moment.

“Ivy Elizabeth, s’not yours. S’daddy’s. Mummy ordered you chicken, which she very nicely cut up for you. You need to eat that, lovie,” Harry uses a bit of a firmer voice with the little girl, pulling her plate of cubed of food over.

“Here, bub,” Y/N takes a small piece, bringing it up to her daughter’s full lips. Only to be met with a hand batting it away until it’s being flung limply to the wood floor with a screech.

“No, want that,” Ivy huffs, once again reaching for her father’s steaming plate. She’s nearly close to getting her finger into the burning sauce so Harry has to scoot his chair out a bit so she can’t reach it anymore.

The parents give each other a knowing look because of what is surely about to come. The baby was struggling with being told ‘no’ as of late, as well as claiming nearly everything as ‘mine’. Tantrums were in their prime right now and they thought the pre-dinner nap would have helped.

Spoiler Alert: It doesn’t.

When Ivy realizes she’s no longer able to reach the food, she furrows her brow and pulls back her little fist, hitting at her father’s shoulder. It wasn’t often she tried to hit, likely because most times it landed her on the step for two minutes, but it’s like she knew they couldn’t do that here.

“Ivy,” Harry takes her small hands between his, “We do not hit, do you understand Daddy? S’not nice. If you can’t behave, you’re not getting ice cream before we go home.”

At that point, the little girl would normally calm down a bit and readjust because she really loved ice cream but it didn’t do anything to quell her anger tonight. She shakes her head, curly hair bouncing, before the tears start rolling.

“Should we just get this to go?” Y/N asks, knowing that the whole restaurant doesn’t want to hear the sobbing baby throwing a fit over not being able to dig her hands into her father’s dinner plate. 

“Probably best,” Harry grunts when Ivy wriggles and twists in her father’s grip with a frustrated whine, “She’s not goin’ to settle.”

“Down, let me down!” Ivy demands against her father’s grip, like she’s the one running the show. 

“Here, give her to me,” Y/N mutters, wrangling the toddler into a tight hold while Harry gets the waiter’s attention to get take away boxes and the check. He’s pulling out his wallet to slide out his black amex and put it on the table.

“Ivy, I’m going to put you down so I can get the diaper bag and your toys. Are you going to stay right next to mummy?” Y/N asks her daughter firmly, making sure her daughter’s little green eyes are meeting hers. 

Ivy nods but as soon as her feet hit the solid ground, she lets out a giggle and dashes from beside her mother. She doesn’t get very far because she’s running straight into the legs of another patron and tumbling on her bum.

She’s not at all hurt but takes it as an advantage to throw herself onto the floor, screaming and tears - the whole dramatic show because she’s not getting her way and well....she’s a two year old - that’s all the reason she needs, right?

Harry’s in full dad mode now, “I’ll get her to the car. Y’got this, love?”

Y/N nods, sighing at the loss of their nice dinner as her daughter has all eyes directed on their family - the last thing she wanted to happen. But she just focuses on shoveling the still hot foot into the plastic containers to take home.

“S’enough of that, Ivy. This isn’t how we act, hmm?” Harry hums, pulling his daughter off the floor and into his arms  - “What’s gotten into you, bug?”

Ivy sniffles, knuckling at her wet eyes,  “Home, daddy.”

“We’re taking you home, don’t you worry,” Harry chuckles, smiling softly when she tucks her head into the crook of his neck, thumb finding her lips. His large palm came to rub at her back and bounce her lightly.

When Y/N finally gets everything together, one of the waitresses - an older woman, stops by the table, “How old is your daughter?”

Y/N smiles, “Just turned two a month ago.”

The grey lady has a kind, knowing grin on her face, “What an age, huh? She looks like a little replica of your husband.”

The girl laughs, they can’t go anywhere without hearing that from someone, “Oh, believe me. They have the same attitude too,” She jokes, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“I wish you two luck. Two is a very hard age, I have five kids of my own. Just appreciate it, even though the tantrums are a pain in the arse,” She says, patting Y/N on the shoulder before heading back to a table who was waiting on her.

---

Both the parents were frustrated, more so than they usually are with Ivy’s tantrums. They thought she’d simmer down once they’d gotten home but it had just revved up again when she realized she really wasn’t getting any ice cream.

“Shouldn’t have even promised her ice cream in the first place,” Y/N mutters with frustration as they stand near the staircase. Ivy sat on the step for two minutes in timeout, kicking her little feet against the marble.

“Right, because I knew she’d decide to have tantrums all night,” Harry shoots back, matching his wife’s tone. The screaming was echoing through the house, high-pitched and it just made you want to cover your ears from it.

Y/N rolls his eyes at him, motioning towards their daughter, “Well, this is your doing because you reminded her that she wasn’t getting it. You deal with it, I’m going to shower.”

“You’re not doing much to help anyways,” Harry hisses, their voices both low so that their daughter doesn’t hear - not like she would over the screaming match she’s having with herself. 

They rarely fought to be honest. This wasn’t even a fight - really. It was hard raising a two year old and they were learning as they went along. The couple was good at communication and working through their problems most of the time.

“I’m not doing much to help?” Y/N asks in disbelief, “Then if I’m no help at all, why don’t you put her down for bed? You don’t need me, obviously.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, his hand gripping the railing with a hard grip, “Don’t go twistin’ my words, that’s not what I said. Now you’re just lookin’ for a fight.”

“Yeah, because on top of a fussy two year old - I want to deal with a childish husband. I’m surprised you're not on the stairs, cryin’ about ice cream too with how you’re acting,” Y/N laughs - the sound crawling under Harry’s skin with irritation at her fake carefree attitude when she’s just as annoyed as him.

“You’re being an even bigger brat than our daughter right now,” Harry tells her, trying to keep his voice at a low volume but it comes out louder than intended. He felt himself straighten up and kept direct eye contact with his wife.

Y/N’s lips form into a tight line before gritting out, “Do not raise your voice at me. We agreed that no matter how frustrated we got we wouldn’t do that in front of our daughter.”

“Then don’t act so immature, ever think of tha’?” Harry bites, hating the he hears his work voice being directed at his wife when he never wants that. 

“How am I being immature? You promised her something that she didn’t get, then reminded her that she’s not getting it. I’m allowed to be frustrated with you!” Y/N whisper-shouts, Ivy is now distracted by taking her little shoes off and watching them tumble down the stairs.

“I have so many better things I could be doing right now than stand here and fight with you over our daughter having a stupid tantrum. I’ll be in my office,” Harry replies, because when he doesn’t know what to do and refuses to admit he’s wrong - he falls back to his best excuse, work.

And he automatically regrets it when he sees a flash of hurt cross his wife’s face. Harry wants to swallow back those words and wrap his wife up into a hug. Never wanting to make her feel like his work is worth more of his time.

Deep down, they both know she knows that it’s not the truth but in the midst of the fight it doesn’t sting any less. He opens his mouth to apologize, to tell her that he’d rather put their daughter to bed together any night than be in his office.

But he can tell she’s already past the point of being pissed when she replies calmly, “I’ll put our baby to bed. Go work on whatever is more important than us, Mr. Styles.”

Harry wants to reach out and grab at her arm, tug her into his chest, and murmur in her hair how much he loves her more than anything. He said that because he knows it’s hurtful and it’s his only way to win an argument with her.

However, she’s moving up the stairs, scooping the somewhat calmed down baby into her arms and trudging up  without another look at her still brooding husband.

Harry hears Ivy shout back down the stairs, “Daddy, come on!” 

He hears his wife tell his daughter, “Daddy’s too busy with work, Ivy. S’just mummy.”

But that has Harry absolutely fuming, storming up the stairs after then, “Do not make it seem like I’m ever too busy for my daughter. That’s completely uncalled for, Y/N.”

Y/N doesn’t turn back to face him, instead keeps walking, and says with a monotone voice, “Oh, but you just said you had better things to be doing than dealing with your family. So go take care of your work, hot shot. I’ll take care of our daughter.”

“Why are you making it seem like I put my work before Ivy? I’ve literally never let that happen and you know that. You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion because Ivy’s been having tantrums and you can’t put on your big girl pants and deal with them.”

That’s when Y/N spins around on her heel, letting Ivy down and encouraging her to go play in her room for a little before bedtime. Her face is turning red - which rarely happens unless they’re really about to get in an argument. 

“Big girl pants? Really, I’m at home dealing with her tantrums twenty-four seven. You get to come home from work and only deal with it half on the time. Do not act like you know how stressful it is to stay at home with a toddler in their terrible twos all day.”

“Do not act like it’s harder than running a multi-billion pound business,” Harry scoffs, his voice becoming lower with frustration with an argument that was going nowhere. He had a cocky lift to his voice that made her want to scream.

“Oh, because it’s so difficult half the time?  Last week, you got to go on your private jet to Paris for three days for business aka dinner and golfing while I sat at home alone!” Y/N raises her voice, angry tears forming over her lids.

“Sat in our 35 million pound house with a pool, playground, plenty of shops in town, unlimited money doesn’t sound like a hardship, love,” Harry replies, jaw clenching but his fingers itching to brush the tears away.

“You know what? It’s Sunday tomorrow. I’m going out. You watch her for the whole fucking day and see how easy it is. For now, enjoy the guest room,” Y/N spits out, storming down the hall to Ivy’s room to get her ready for bed.

“With pleasure,” He tells her, retreating back into his office and slamming the door. He wasn’t a fucking inadequate father. 

He never put work before his family. He knew it wasn’t easy being at home and as soon as he sat his arse in his leather chair - he realized what a douchebag he was being to his stressed out wife. 

Harry didn’t want to sleep in the guest room, he wanted to be spooned up next to his wife, whispering apologies for letting the stress of the week get to him. Remind her what an amazing partner and mum she is to him. How lucky he is.

The issue was - Harry had pride issues. He wasn’t one to admit defeat even when he should. He thrived on challenges so he was eager to show his wife that he’d have no problem taking on his terrible twos daughter.

He sneaks into his daughter’s room after she’s fast asleep in her crib, checking on her to make sure she’s okay before hesitantly entering their bedroom where his wife is fast asleep but a pile of clean clothes for him on the floor tells him she was serious about him sleeping in the guest room.

It was torture, not being able to be in the same bed as his wife. The love of his life. He thought about it multiple times - going in and groveling but his stubborn brain wouldn’t allow it. After such a long week, he was looking forward to sleeping in and his head hit the pillow in no time.

--

“Rise and shine,” His wife's voice wakes him up, it wasn’t with her normally cheery tone but with the same irritation as the night before. She definitely hadn’t magically forgiven him yet - dammit. Her voice is nearly drowned out by a fussy curly-haired baby.

“Wha’s wrong?” Harry grunts, sitting up to see Ivy still in her pajamas with sheet wrinkles across her face. Skin pink and warm from her nice, peaceful sleep. 

However, she decided to wake up today with a massive chip on her shoulder.

“Ivy’s upset because she can’t find her ballerina doll,” Y/N replies.

 Harry notices she is already fully dressed *** and made up for the day. “Might want to get up and help her find it. I’m heading out  like we agreed on.”

“Fine,” Harry replies with a tight lip, rubbing his eyes as he’s still half asleep. “Y’look pretty.”

“Thanks,” Y/N replies nonchalantly, leaning over to kiss Ivy on the forehead, “I’ll see you later bug, I love you.”

Ivy looks at her mother in betrayal as she leaves Harry to manage their little ball of fury. He tries to tug her in for a big, warm hug but she shrieks and screams at her father, “Ballerina!”

“Ssh, okay. We’ll go look for y’ballerina, dove. No need to yell, s’too early,” Harry grumbles, sitting up and automatically being pulled by the hand off the bed to search for this doll that could be anywhere in this thousands upon thousands of square foot home.

After extensive searches, Harry realizes that he’d left it on the roof of the car when he was tucking her into her carseat last night. The cute little plush doll is now mostly likely roadkill on the country stretch.

“Ivy, y’literally got a whole room dedicated to stuffed animals and dolls. Let’s go pick somethin’ from there, yes?” Harry tries, his daughter’s arms crossed and glaring at Harry like he had just killed her hopes and dreams.

“No! No!” The toddler absolutely wails, plopping her little diaper-clad bum on the ground before kicking her feet against the marble. She had herself worked up until her cheeks were cherry red and tears were staining her shirt.

Harry couldn’t lie - he’d only been watching her for about two hours and he was starting to feel anxiety creep up in his throat over what to do. It wasn’t that he couldn’t parent her, but it was a lot of crying and he hated seeing her upset.

“Why don’t we go eat some breakfast? Does that sound good, lovie?” Harry offers hopefully, having to contain a laugh at how much she looks like him when he’s angry. The little crease between her eyes, the green in her eyes sparkling a little darker than usual.

Her eyes peek up at her father, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry sighs in relief, scrubbing at hand down his face, taking her into the kitchen, strapping her in the highchair before whipping up some cheesy eggs for her.

When he puts down the plate in front of her, he has to say she’s surprised when she slaps it off the tray and onto the floor, spilling everywhere. “No, want mummy’s breakfast.”

Her father looks at her with a comically bewildered expression before turning on his dad voice, “We do not throw things on the ground. Do you understand me, Ivy Elizabeth?”

Her full little lips are drawn into a tight pout as she tosses her baby fork on the ground to join the still warm eggs in a heap.  

“Mummy’s breakfast.”

The scolding goes in one ear and out the other, she doesn’t acknowledge her father but continues on her demands.

He caves after trying to no avail to decipher what ‘mummy’s breakfast’ means.

Ivy threw her eggs on the ground. She’s demanding mummy’s breakfast.

She’s hated eggs for the past two weeks now. Vanilla yogurt with diced strawberries and blueberries in her red baby bowl.

He does as she says, arranges a nice little bowl of yogurt with the fruit. He couldn’t find the red bowl so he substituted for a blue one. 

It results in the yogurt also being smacked to the ground. 

She threw that on the ground too.

Did you put it in a red bowl?

I couldn’t find it, just put it in a blue bowl

She only wants to eat breakfast out of red bowls right now

Harry groans, he didn’t know his daughter was this difficult about breakfast time. He was usually gone by the time she’d woken up for the day. Y/N usually let him sleep in a bit on the weekends until ten or so.

After digging for the specific red bowl, doing up her breakfast again - Ivy happily begins eating until it drips down her sleep clothes, rubbed all over her cheeks, and it even manages up in her tangled locks.

“S’that just so yummy, Vee?” Harry hums after she’s finished. “Looks like it’s bath time.”

He really should have guessed at this point when she shakes her head and squeaks, “No!”

“Yes, s’bathtime,” Harry says sternly, traipsing upstairs with the wriggling toddler who is doing everything in her power to fight against her father’s hold. 

“No, no, no. Ballerina,” Ivy brings it up again, making it a near impossible task for Harry to wrangle her out of her clothes and diaper. 

While he’s running the bath, she darts from the bathroom and through the hallways, right towards the grand staircase where the baby gate isn’t closed. Harry really really didn’t want to yell at his daughter but she could seriously get hurt.

“Ivy Elizabeth Styles, if you don’t get your little bum over to Daddy right now, you’re going on the step and y’not having playtime at all,” Harry orders loudly, but breathing a sigh of relief when his daughter skids in her tracks to a halt.

The little girl turns on her heels, eyes wide in fright at her dad’s raised voice - which rarely ever happened unless she really wasn’t listening. She begins to cry but not in her now typical anger-induced haze but in a legitimate sad wail.

His heart aches as his daughter toddles obediently back over to him with her little head hung low in regret, “Daddy, hold me?”

Harry can’t deny her so he scoops her up into the crook of his arm, “M’sorry for yellin’, bug. But y’need to be good for Daddy? You could have gotten really hurt and that would have made Daddy sad, okay?”

Her eyes are watery as she looks up at him, her hand curling around his neck before burying her still yogurt-sticky face into his skin, hiccuping with sad whines, “Sad Daddy.”

“Mhm, now are you going to be nice and get a bath f’me? Y’dirty, bubby,” Harry smiles down at her to brighten back up her mood and it works because her dimples pop out of her cheeks and she flashes her small blocky baby teeth.

Ivy surprisingly does well in the bathtub, allowing her father to get her all cleaned up until she accidentally opens her eyes and gets baby soap in them, it’s another round of tears that cannot be controlled.

Harry totes the sobbing toddler into a cute little Moschino onesie and brings her into their bedroom. He’s so fucking exhausted and it was barely noon. His stress level was near a hundred as he couldn’t keep her from being pissed off for more than twenty minutes at a time.

Luckily, it seems like the screaming and crying for the last how many hours had taken a toll on her because as soon as she sprawled on her stomach on Harry’s chest, she’s out like a light. The cutest small snores coming from her as she smacks her lips together while she dreams.

He gives her a few minutes to fall into a deeper sleep before tiptoeing her into her nursery and laying her very carefully into her crib. She doesn’t wake, just whimpers softly and turns on her side, away from her father.

When he’s sure she’ll be okay, he goes back into their bedroom, and well...he just breathes. He didn’t realize how high his anxiety had been up to this point and his whole morning had been nothing but trying to get his daughter calm. He didn’t even have one moment to think about himself.

It really wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Y/N being a stay at home mum - of course, he did. He already knew how bloody amazing and strong she was as a person, he didn’t need this to prove what he already knew. It was his stubbornness to not decline a challenge and they both knew that was the case.

Y/N really didn’t think that Harry doubted her abilities. He nearly spent most of his days telling her how proud he was of her and her abilities as a partner and mum. It doesn’t mean it didn’t sting when he brought up his job compared to hers.

Harry’s in his own world of thoughts that he doesn’t notice a figure leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, “You got everything under control, H?”

His eyes darted up to meet his wife’s, “Not really. She’s a little terror,” He jokes (kind of).

“It’s easy compared to your job, right?” Y/N asks but it’s obviously rhetorical. She drops a few shopping bags on the floor before leaning down to unstrap her high heels, kicking them off along with throwing off the blazer to the floor.

“I never said your job was easy. Y’puttin’ words in my mouth,” Harry argues, sitting up straight and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re right. It’s just not as hard as your job,” Y/N huffs, unbuttoning the tight jeans and shucking them off her thighs. She didn’t have any idea what she was doing to him right now, his mouth nearly watering when her thighs jiggle a bit.

“You’re right, it’s not as hard as my job,” Harry replies, studying his wife’s face when she looks up in surprise - that he was really going to take the fight that far.

“Wow, you re-”

“It’s not as hard as my job, it’s harder,” Harry murmurs, reaching out to pull his wife to stand between his legs, her looking down at him with her hands on his shoulders. “

What I’m doin’ is nothin’ compared to your job. Y’raising our little baby, shaping her into a good person, spending every moment of y’day with her, giving up a lot of who you are for her. That’s more difficult than what I do any day.”

“Har-”

“M’sorry, lovie. Y’know I think you’re the most amazing mum and wife. You do everything for the baba and I. I shouldn’t have taken my anger from my week out on you yesterday and then said the things that I did,” Harry apologizes, his face sincere and open as he leans forward to nuzzle at his wife’s stomach.

When her hands come to run through his unruly locks, he knows he’s forgiven, “I appreciate how hard you work too. I really do, H. You’re the best husband and daddy to Ivy we could ask for. I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you as well.”

“Do you ever feel like I put work before you or Ivy?” Harry asks softly against her thin tank top, his hands come to massage at her full hips. There was a hint of insecurity in his tone that made Y/N’s heart sink a bit.

“No, I really don’t. I was just...I was just upset and I knew that would upset you. I’m sorry, baby,” Y/N murmurs softly, leaning down to kiss at the top of his head.

“Y’going to let me show you how sorry I am, how good of a wife and mum you are?” Harry drawls, his hands going to tug up the fabric of her top and humming appreciatively when she lifts her arms to let him do so.

“Yeah, remind why I married your crabby ass,” Y/N teases playfully, reaching behind herself to let her bra fall down to the crooks of her elbows before tossing it to the floor with everything else. As she’s doing that, Harry takes it upon himself to shimmy off her panties.

“Y’sayin’ you just married me ‘cause I fuck you good?” Harry grunts, standing up suddenly and pulling her up into his arms until her legs are wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck.

“Mmm, mostly. Also for your bank account was pretty good-looking too,” She lies blatantly but he still rewards her with a bruising kiss to her lips as he backs her against the wall so he can use one hand to tug down his running shorts.

“I’d still have married you, best decision I’ve ever made,” Harry says, sobering up from their playfulness. He slows down to be careful as he slides up into her warm heat, her head falling back with a thud against the wall.

“Harry,” She moans approvingly, heels of her feet digging into his backside to goad him into moving faster, “Right there.”

“So bloody in love with you. Please tell me y’know that baby, c’mon, tell me,” Harry begs, leaning down to smear kisses against her collarbone.

“I know, H. You’re so good to me, I love you,” Y/N whines and Harry knows that whine like the back of his hand, she needs more. He reaches down to rub tight, rough circles against her swollen bud until she’s tensing and coming.

“You feel so good, every single time. Don’t know how you do it, s’like you were made just for me,” Harry chokes out, stuttering and coming with his lips suckling a deep spot onto her breast as he rides it out.

After they redress and are cuddled on the bed, murmuring sweet little apologizes and affirmations of love, they interrupted by an angry squeak from the baby monitor - signaling their daughter’s woken up.

“Ballerina!”

hope you enjoyed. please inbox me what you think, like, reblog.

[anyoneseenadam]

You write fenrys so well 🥺

Can I request something for him falling in love with a lady who works in a library and is friends with aelin and he keeps finding excuses to visit the library and one day they realize they’re mates ? Can you plz include alot of longing looks & touched and his friends noticing ?

pairing: Fenrys x reader (throne of glass)

warnings: drinking, small argument, mainly fluff

a/n: kay so it's been a hot MINUTE since I've posted and I am sorry my loves, also I comepletely modified this but I hope you still like it, comment and shiz pls it really helps with writers block lol <33

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You had met Aelin sometime after the war. She had been wandering around town a couple days after the coronation, smiling at children and waving at the elderly, observing the way the town was slowly filling again, people returning home now it was safe. There weren’t many people about however, it just being seven in the morning.

She had walked past a shop then. It was small and rickety, the door barely on its hinges as a girl fought with it, swearing like a sailor.

“Do you need some help?” she asked, moving to stand beside the girl. You screamed instantly, jumping out of your skin at her sudden appearance, having not heard anyone coming due to how absorbed you were in your job. Aelin screamed when you screamed, and it left the two of you staring at each other with wide eyes before you fell apart in fits of laughter.

You stood from where you had bent to clutch your stomach, wiping tears from your eyes as you calmed down.

“Jeez you fucking gave me a heart attack,” you laughed as she apologised, still giggling behind her hand. You then turned, hands on your hips as you glared at the door of your shop.

“Rude men should be put down,” you muttered and Aelin was laughing again.

“That I can get behind,” she said as you opened it, giving up on fixing it completely, Aelin gasping when she saw the inside.

“You have a bookshop!” she exclaimed, and you laughed.

“Had, now I just have dusty books and a broken door. It was my mother’s before…” you trailed off and Aelin put a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” she said, and you shrugged.

“It’s fine, it was ages ago anyway,” you stepped further into the shop, going to the large window up front and tugging of the white sheet that obscured it from light. “However, this shop isn’t dead yet so might as well get it done.”

Aelin looked around the shop, the paper on the walls was peeling, the paint on the shelves cracked and the books covered in a fine layer of dust. “Damn, where do we start?” she asked, rolling up her sleeves and grinning at you when you whirled around, frowning at her.

“Doesn’t the queen have better things to do?” you asked, and she shrugged, laughing at your bewildered expression.

“I’m sure my husband will cope.” You gave her an unsure look at that, and she laughed, “He’s competent.”

“If you say so.”

“If you knew I was queen you really have no fear of authority do you?” she asked as you started pulling books down and pilling them onto the sheet you just pulled off the window.

“Respect is earned, plus you’re the one who made me shit myself.” She laughed again, smiling widely, and helping you take down more books as she realised this was the most she had laughed since the war ended.

--

The worked all day. First removing the books and putting them upstairs in the rundown apartment you lived in, filled with plants, blankets, and somehow even more books. Next the repainted the shelves, setting them outside to dry while they re-wallpapered the walls and cleaned the floor until it was shining.

When the sky got darker you swore as you realised neither of you had eaten all day, going up to your new friend and asking her what she wanted for dinner.

“I make really good pasta,” you had suggested, and she had nodded enthusiastically as you went upstairs to your apartment, drinking wine as you cooked together. As you ate on the floor, drinking yet another bottle of wine, this time straight from the bottle Aelin asked about your past.

You assured her it was relatively normal, asides from the whole ‘evil tyrant thing’ as you put it. You talked together for hours, going back downstairs, and bringing the now dry, sage green shelves back in and putting all the books away, setting them in categories.

Hours later Aelin decided to go home, not wanting to worry so much and she opened the still broken door, the both of you laughing as you realised you had forgotten a pretty integral part.

“Hey, you could just name the shop, ‘the broken door’,” she suggested, and you smiled.

“That would work.”

--

When Aelin got home she was met with a concerned Rowan, asking where she had been all day.

She smiled at him, pausing before answering, “I think I have a new best friend.”

Rowan frowned at that, “And what brings you to that conclusion?”

“Today was the first time I’ve laughed since…” she trailed off as silence fell at the thought of their past few months, Rowan then bringing her in for a hug.

“You know this means I have to meet her too then,”

“Nope my best friend get your own.” She shoved him playfully, falling asleep next to him that night with a smile on her face.

--

They went to see you the next morning and Aelin laughed when she saw your dishevelled state.

“Did you sleep?” she asked when she walked into the shop and found signs put up and plants dotted around the room as you sat on the floor, drinking a coffee that smelt so strong she almost gagged, much preferring sweeter tastes.

“Sleep is for the weak!” you said, half-heartedly raising your hand.

“And what’s with all the plants?” Rowan asked, frowning as he almost walked into another and you sat up straighter, glaring at him.

“What you too good for plants?” you asked your hands moving over-exaggeratedly as you got to your feet. “Don’t listen to him, he’s just a stinky man,” you whispered to the plants and Aelin laughed at her husbands offended face.

You stood and started walking upstairs, your feet dragging as you went to get breakfast. You heard them follow you and you pushed open the door to your flat.

You had even more plants up here and Rowan rolled his eyes as you moved to open the large windows, letting in fresh air, you then moved about making pancakes, mixing enough for the three of you and adding blueberries when you were finished.

You cooked them up while chatting idly with Aelin and Rowan, only receiving a small amount of judgement when Aelin discovered you didn’t actually have a bed and instead just a mattress on the floor with a sheet for warmth and some soft pillows. Your house was newly decorated, art hung on the walls, plants and candles decorating every surface.

“Tea, coffee, water, vodka?” you offered them drinks and Aelin whined.

“No vodka, we had too much wine last night,” you laughed at that as you served up coffee and pancakes.

“Yeah we’ll have to go properly drinking some night,” you muttered, Rowan chuckling under his breath and nodding in agreement.

The three of you ate the rest of your food, laughing and joking together and Rowan really noticed the difference in Aelin’s manner. She hadn’t been truly comfortable or at ease in months, always looking over her shoulder, but now she sat laughing with her friend and Rowan wanted to thank you a million times over for bringing her back out of her shell.

--

Since you first met Aelin you were meeting up almost every day, discussing books over tea and hanging out at your shop, or drinking from expensive glasses in her castle while trying on elaborate dresses. Soon you were practically apart of the family, but that didn’t stop the confusion Fenrys felt when he walked into the castle and found a young girl sleeping on Aelins’ bed, a book opened but abandoned on her chest.

He tentatively walked forward so he could see her more clearly and felt his heart clench when his eyes fall upon her peaceful face, her eyes closed, and hair spread around her head like a halo. He was about to reach a hand out to brush a strand of hair from her soft hair when he heard the door open, turning to see Aelin run in, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

“Fenrys I didn’t know you were back,” she said when she pulled back, bouncing on the soles of her feet excitedly and he laughed.

“Are you going to explain why there’s a girl in your bed, or do I need to break some news to Rowan,” he joked and she shoved his shoulder before moving to the bed and shaking the girl awake.

“It’s just (y/n),” she explained as the girl huffed and rolled away from Aelin.

“Ah of course this person who I definitely knew existed,” Aelin stuck her finger up at him as he laughed, unable to stop his eyes from trailing back to her.

He watched as she breathed in deeply, her eyes opening slowly as she took him in, before she pulled her covers up to over her chin and frowned at him and Aelin with a small pout.

“I was having the best dream every asshole,” she complained and Fenrys smiled as she sat up on her elbows and reached a hand out to him to shake, introducing herself. He brushed the shake of and instead brought her hand to his mouth pressing a kiss to the back of it as sparks show through her skin at the sensation.

“I’m Fenrys, ambassador of Terrasen,” he smiled cheekily as she shrunk away slightly, nerves taking over her, “hope to see you around more.”

He left, pressing a quick kiss to Aelin’s temple, and winking at you as Aelin moved over to you with wide eyes.

“Aelin…” you started as she squealed.

“He was totally flirting with you! You would be such a cute couple, please, please ask him out I need you two to get married and have to worlds prettiest babies!” she was bouncing in hr seat as you moved to shut her up.

“Okay ONE, I just met him. And TWO, he was far too pretty for me,” you said and Aelin frowned.

“Nope, nope you are incorrect, and he is going to fall in love with you,” she demanded, and you laughed, kicking her with your foot.

“Mhm sure.”

--

The next few days, Fenrys was coming to your shop every day. He would bring chocolates and flowers some days, or coffee and pastries other days. Always dropping them off with a smile, before lounging in the plush, green chair in the corner of the shop and talking to you for hours. He has also started coming to your and Aelin’s weekly cocktail night, wrapping his arm around your shoulder’s and laughing drunkenly into your neck as you told stories.

However, through all this you remained ‘friends’. He would press kisses to your cheek and hands, keep an arm slung around your waist when men came to speak at you at bars and primarily referred to you using pet names and rarely ever your actual name. And it was getting frustrating.

You were having to start putting genuine effort to not kiss him every time you had a drink and he sat extra close to you. Or when you were invited to parties, and he moved smoothly through the countless questions asking if you were dating.

And while you revelled in the attention it was tearing at your heart slightly as insecurities told you that he would never actually be interested in you. You wanted to scream at him every time he kissed you but wanted to melt into him every time he hugged you, your brain constantly at battle with itself when he was near.

You knew you were due to explode any time soon. So when you were out one night and he was holding you extra close, you pulled away, muttering an excuse about getting another drink.

Standing at the bar as you waited you rested you head in your hands for a second before you saw a man begin to approach you. He was attractive, not like Fenrys, but honestly you would take anything to get your mind of him at the moment, so you smiled at him, tilting your head.

“What’s a doll like you doing all alone?” he asked, his voice rough and gravelly, unlike the smooth, deep timbre you were used to, but you just laughed.

“Waiting for a man to not dehumanise me,” you bit back, and he raised his hands sheepishly.

“Sorry about that, what would you prefer?” he flirted, sidling up closer to you as you turned to face him.

“Can’t go wrong with ma’am,” you joked, and he laughed, looking down and shaking his head, only to look back up, his eyes going wide. You felt a familiar hand wrap around your waist and looked up to see Fenrys, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as he glared at the man in front of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice deep and full of authority, the man in front of you shrinking under his gaze.

“Shit sorry man, didn’t realise she had a boyfriend,” he apologised and this time you did roll your eyes.

“He’s not my-“ you began but Fenrys cut you off.

“Yeah she does, so back the fuck off.” You looked down as he spoke, shaking your head as tears of frustration built in your eyes. You harshly pulled out of his grip, leaving the bar as quickly as you could, wiping away the escaped tears as you heard Fenrys follow after you, shouting your name.

You whirled around when you got outside, your glare murderous.

“You do not get to do that!” you shouted as he moved closer to you.

“Sweetheart I’m sorry,” he began but you cut him off.

“NO! I am not your girlfriend! You have never once asked me to be so you don’t get to try scare away any guy that might have genuine interest in me!” his shoulders slumped as you spoke. Truthfully, he has been working up the courage to ask you out for months, and while he knew it was unfair how he treated you, he couldn’t help himself. He was addicted. He thought of you constantly, the texture of your skin, the smell of your hair, the way your eyes lit up and the way you moved your hands as you spoke. So when he saw you engage with the man that had the audacity to talk to you, his grip tightened on his glass so much it shattered, ignoring the worried looks from Aelin and Rowan as he stomped over to you.

“(y/n) listen, I’ve been an asshole I know,” he raised his hands, tentatively stepping towards you, “But I really care about you, and I want to be yours.”

You laughed bitterly, “You’re just saying that.”

He shook his head vehemently, stepping closer to you again and wrapping his arms around your shoulders so gently, one would think you were made of glass.

“I love you darling, please be mine,” he said into your hair, and you pulled back, looking up at him through glassy eyes before nodding slightly.

“I love you Fenrys,” he smiled down at you before leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss against your mouth, pouring his heart into the action. You gasped slightly as your lips met and he smiled widely against your mouth as the bond clicked into place.

“You know this means I now have an excuse to break the nose of any man that talks to you,” he whispered against your lips, and you giggled, shoving at his shoulder gently.

“I’m still annoyed at you,” you muttered, and his eyes darkened.

“Well I’m sure I can make it up to you.”

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

Could you do something about going to your school reunion with Tom and your kids and you’re pregnant again or something. Thank you xx

Cute!! Yes of course babes, hope you like it! Feel free to keep seeing in requests guys xx

Reunion 

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: You’re not feeling the good the night of your reunion

Masterlist

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⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

“Do we have to go?” Tom groaned.

“Yes,” (y/n) nodded, “I want to show off my hot husband and my cute kids, so we’re going.”

He rolled his eyes, “You can do that online.”

“We’re going,” she squeezed his shoulder calling up the staircase, “Kids! Dinner’s ready!”

Their five year old son came sprinting down the stairs first, followed my their three year old daughter, who was much slower as she navigated the stairs mostly by scooting down them. (y/n) plucked her up when she reached the bottom of the stairs, setting her in a booster seat so she could read the table.

“Are you going to be good for your uncles tonight?”

She nodded, “Yeah.”

“And you’ll make sure your brother is good too?”

She giggled and nodded while he frowned, “Hey!”

(y/n) ruffled his hair with a smile, “I just wanna make sure you two are gonna be perfect little angels while we’re gone.”

“You better be,” Tom threatened as placed a plate in front of each of them, “Mommy and I have a lot of kissing to do tonight so we can’t be coming home for any meltdowns.”

Their son cringed while their daughter giggled, “Tom,” (y/n) pinched his side.

He smirked and kissed her cheek, “Sit down love, I’ll get your food.”

She sat opposite the kids, making faces at them until Tom sat the food in front of her. One look at the plate if plain pasta and broccoli had her sick. She’d been nauseous for a few days, and even without the pasta sauce the meal seemed too much.

“What’s wrong?” Tom frowned at her.

“Just my stomach,” she pushed the plate away and stood up, “I’m just gonna go to the bathroom.”

“You two can eat, I’m gonna help mommy,” Tom smile to the kids before getting up from the table, he wrapped an arm around his wife, trying to help however he could, “Maybe we should stay home.”

She shook her head, “I’m fine, it’s probably just food poisoning or something.”

“Are you sure?” he frowned.

She nodded, “I’m fine.”

Tom held her hair while she emptied her guts into the stomach, rubbing her back and trying to convince her to stay home. She had refused though, instating opting to just sit on the couch while they ate. The kids had dotted on her while Tom did the dishes, until their uncles arrived and sick or not, their parents were no longer interesting enough to keep their attention.

“You okay?” Harry raised a brow at (y/n), his niece already thrown over his shoulder in a fit of giggles.

She nodded, “Just a little sick.”

“I don’t think we’ll be out long,” Tom offered her his hand with a frown, “I’m sure she’ll want to come home quick.”

“I’m fine,” she insisted, leaning on him as she stood.

“Last time mommy was sick I got a sister,” their son giggled as Sam lifted him off the ground, “I want a brother this time.”

The adults all froze, everyone stared at (y/n) with wide eyes, “No, no, I’m not pregnant,” she shook her head, “It’s not as bad as it was with either of the kids.”

“You two need to start wrapping it up,” Sam scolded, “We can barely manage the two of them.”

Tom rolled his eyes and passed (y/n) her purse, “I think you’ll survive.”

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Things had only gotten worse after they arrived at the school, (y/n) tried to stay positive while she caught up with old friends, but it was obvious to Tom that she wasn’t feeling well at all. He was dwelling on what their son had said, despite her certainty that it wasn’t anything serious. Both of them were a bit unsure whether or not they wanted another kid, and while they hadn’t been trying, they hadn’t been doing anything to prevent it, figuring it would just happen if it happened.

“Tom,” (y/n) grabbed his arm with a frown, “We’ve gotta go home, I can’t stay here all night.”

He nodded, “Alright, we can go home.”

“Thanks,” she leaned on him on their way out, “Don’t say anything though, I still had fun, and I know you liked it too.”

He laughed as he helped her back into the car, “I won’t rub it in your face until you aren’t sick anymore.”

She rolled her eyes, “Shove it Holland.”

“Unless you aren’t sick,” he hummed.

“Of course I’m sick,” she shot him a glare.

“You sure,” he glanced towards her stomach, “I mean it’s possible.”

She groaned, “No, not another summer pregnancy Tom.”

“I’m just saying it could be, I know you said it doesn’t feel the same, but I mean, no harm in taking a test right?”

“No,” she sighed, “Let’s pick some up.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

“You guys are back early,” Harry commented as the couple returned home.

“Yeah, she’s not feeling well,” Tom rubbed her stomach with a frown, “We’ll be right back.”

Tom helped her up to their room, only to be left there alone so she could pee. He paced the floor anxiously while he waited for her, excited butterflies starting to flutter in his stomach. When she finally opened the door he froze, just waiting for her to say anything.

“It’s got to sit for another minute,” she sighed, “You wanna come watch it with me?”

He nodded, pushing right past her to peak at the small test sitting on the table, “How long?”

“Another minute or so,” she hummed, “Excited?”

“Yeah, I mean I know we’ve been on the fence about it but I’d be really happy to have another,” he kissed her head, pulling her into his chest, “I think the kids would be excited too.”

She nodded, “We should keep trying if it’s negative.”

“Hey, I’m down to try whenever you want,” he teased.

She laughed, “Yeah, I know you are.”

“And if you are we can celebrate,” he hummed, eyes still locked on the small sticks, “Look there’s one.”

“And...” she leaned in, “Holy shit.”

“Oh my God,” Tom squeezed her waist as a big smile overtook his face, “You’re pregnant!” he exclaimed excitedly.

“Okay calm down, we still have to go to the doctor,” she reminded, turning to face him, “But I’ve never had a false positive before...”

“I love you,” Tom pressed his lips to hers and squeezed her against him with a laugh. “Woah, careful, I’m still sick,” she laughed, “Don’t shake me around too much Tom.”

He nuzzled his nose against hers with a smile, “You’re perfect you know that?”

She rolled her eyes before an excited squealing broke them apart, “Mommy!” their son threw himself at her, latching onto her leg with a smile, “Up!”

“Be gentle with your mom, she’s still sick,” Tom lifted him up with a frown, “How’d you get in here huh? I thought your uncles were watching you.”

“He’s fast,” Sam huffed, following him into the room, “Sorry.”

“Yeah yeah,” Tom ruffled the boys hair, “What do you need you little monster?”

“I just wanted to see mom,” he blushed, “I thought she wouldn’t be sick anymore.”

“She’ll be sick for awhile,” he hummed in response.

Sam knit his brow, looking to (y/n) before his eyes landed on the counter, “Wait, wait, wait, are you actually pregnant?”

(y/n) groaned while their son went wide eyed, “Come on Sam.”

He blushed, “Sorry...”

“Mommy’s pregnant?” their son stared at Tom, waiting for an answer.

“Um, probably,” Tom responded.

“Tom!” (y/n) snapped.

“What? He asked.”

“I might be pregnant,” (y/n) confirmed, “We don’t know yet though.”

“Mommy’s pregnant!” he kicked his way out of Tom’s arms and went sprinting down the hall, screaming the whole way.

(y/n) sighed, “You two are dead.”

“Sorry love,” Tom kissed her head with a smile, “Look if it turns out you aren’t we’ll just keep trying until you are.”

“Ew,” Sam gagged while Tom laughed. The kids came sprinting right back into the room, Harry following behind them now, trying his best but failing to catch up.

“Mommy are you pregnant?” their daughter looked up at her hopefully, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

(y/n) dropped to her knees in front of her, “We don’t know for sure yet sweetie, but maybe.”

“Can I see it?”

She laughed, “No, it’ll be inside of me for a long time first.”

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s gonna stay in my tummy for awhile so it can get a bit bigger.”

“Woah,” she mumbled, staring at her mothers stomach in disbelief, “How’s it gonna come out of there?”

“A doctor will take it out.”

“Woah,” she repeated before leaning in close to her stomach before poking it.

“You have to be gentle,” her brother scolded, “And nice too, it can hear you talking.”

“Hi baby,” she giggled.

The kids continued cooing at her stomach while Tom sat down besides her and dotted kisses over her shoulder, “Much better than a reunion ey?”

She laughed, letting her head fall on his shoulder, “Much.”

[foli-vora]

counting stars

A/N: I apologise if this is a mess—I’ve just written this on my phone while camping in the middle of nowhere 😅 truly inspired by the outdoors hahah. Yes I’m sitting incredibly still in a spot that I found had cell service so I can upload this because I’m Impatient™️.

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x f!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: depressive thoughts, insecurities, A SICKENING AMOUNT OF FLUFF

+++

The truck’s packed. That’s the first thing you notice when you pull into the driveway, eyeing the bags chucked neatly in the bed of the vehicle. The brief sharp stab of panic that impales your heart is drowned by a sickening twist of understanding. Of course he’d leave — why would he want you? Why would he waste time being with you when he could do so much better? You don’t blame him. You wouldn’t get in his way of leaving.

The sigh that leaves you as you exit your car is long and drawn out, each step towards the house drains the low level of energy you had leftover after your shift and you wonder if you’ll be in Frankie’s way if you take up the couch to sleep. Will he want to take the couch? He had bought it, after all. The bed, then. He wouldn’t leave you without a bed — maybe he’ll come back for it tomorrow.

Frankie’s coming down the stairs when you walk through the door, a dark backpack slung over his shoulder and Mena giggling in his arms. God you’re gonna miss those little giggles. He smiles when he sees you, dropping the bag next to a bright pink unicorn one on the floor before striding over to you.

You’re stumped when he slings an arm around your waist and brings you in close, hips bumping together, and Mena immediately dives in to press a wet kiss against your cheek. He kisses the other, sharing a little smile with his little girl before looking at you.

“You’ve got 10 minutes to pack some clothes.” He says, and you blink, stomach rolling.

Oh. Maybe he was packing your stuff.

Of course, it’s his house.

It’s in his truck because you couldn’t possibly fit everything in your car. He was helping you move out. He didn’t have to—you could have called a removal company or something. He shouldn’t have to go out of his way, especially with Mena.

You’re sullen as you answer, brushing past him with a quiet okay. The stairs are hard to climb, but eventually you reach your bedroom. You try not to look at the photos lining the walls—pictures of Mena, of her with Frankie or you, of all three of you, of you and Frankie snuggled together on various dates and trips, scribbles deemed masterpieces plastered proudly in expensive frames. Maybe you could ask for a few copies, or take the originals if he was just going to throw the ones of you away. Which he would, of course, why would he keep them?

He’s left a duffle on the bed for you—his old army one. He loves this one. He uses it for everything. You make a mental note to make sure to return it.

Tears choke your throat as you pack the bag, and it’s not until strong arms wind around your waist that they fall free. You won’t say no to a final hug. You try to memorise the tightness of his arms, the feel of his beard along your skin as he buries his face in your neck.

“You ready? Mena’s getting cranky,” you hear the chuckle in his voice and nod your head. He must feel the tension in your torso because immediately he’s turning you, frowning at the tears streaking your face. “What’s wrong, baby?” He’s gentle as he wipes them from your cheeks, the pinch between his brows deepening as your face crumbles in his hands.

“I don’t want to leave,” you admit, sniffling quietly, “but I will if that’s what you want. You and Mena deserve better.”

“What?”

“It’s okay—”

“No, it’s not.” Soon your face is pressed hard against his chest and he’s crushing you, hand tight on the back of your head as he holds you. “You’re not going anywhere, not without us, anyway. We’re going on a trip. All three of us—together.”

A trip? Your mind is a whirl as you try to catch up. He wasn’t leaving you? Or, more accurately, you weren’t moving out? Suddenly the packed bags, especially Mena’s unicorn one, and packed truck make a little more sense to your darkened mind, and you instantly relax in his arms.

He pulls back, dark eyes sad as he studies your face.

Frankie had watched you the last few days; watched your mood sour, watched the bags below your eyes deepen. You’d barely been sleeping — he could feel you toss and turn all night, could feel the shudder in your shoulders as you tried to keep your sobs quiet in fear of waking him. He’d seen the look of utter defeat wash your face when you accidentally spilt the milk trying to make a coffee yesterday, seen the immediate glaze of tears as he wiped the spill away. You were gone before he could even turn and comfort you, the door slamming as you all but ran to your car.

He knew what was happening—could recognise the signs a mile away after having to defeat his own monster lurking in the back of his mind telling him he wasn’t good enough, reminding him of all the awful things he’d done in his life, what he’d done to others. He’d gone straight to work, said he wouldn’t be able to do any shifts on the weekend, and had left at lunch to start packing.

“I love you.”

Your face falls, head shaking in automatic denial.

“I do,” his touch is gentle, brushing more tears away with his thumbs. “I know you’ve been struggling lately. I’m sorry for not saying anything—I should’ve made it clear when you came home. We’re going camping for the weekend, unless you don’t feel up to it which is fine. We can just order a pizza, cuddle up on the couch and watch movies if that sounds better.” He smiles warmly, reassuringly, and you know in your heart that he really truly doesn’t mind what you decide to do.

How you ever landed Francisco Morales, you’ll never know.

“No, I want to go.”

“Are you sure? Please don’t be scared to say no—”

“I want to go.”

For the first time for what feels like all week, you smile, and actually mean it.

His eyes flick across your face, searching for any signs of hesitation, and then he grins, your eyes automatically falling to admire the dimple creasing his cheek. You kiss it instinctively, relief washing through you as your mind and hearts calms. He stops you as you pull away, leaning in and letting his nose run along yours before pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He helps you put some clothes together, and with the two of you, you’re packed within a few minutes. He holds your hand on the way down the stairs, but stops to collect all the bags while you grab the little girl pulling at your legs. She babbles to you excitedly as you follow Frankie out of the house, her little fingers habitually pulling and fiddling with the chain around your neck.

You try to fend off the overwhelming feelings of unworthiness while you listen to Frankie talk animatedly back to Mena as you buckle her into her car seat, her little voice loud and bubbly as she claps her hands and bounces in her seat. You try to smile, try to reassure yourself that Frankie loves you, that Mena loves you, but you struggle truly believing it. How could they?

Music’s soon blaring throughout the cab of the truck as the familiar houses of your neighbourhood fly past, the Spotify playlist Frankie spent a good hour finding and adding songs to filling the quiet. He sings along, grinning at Mena’s attempts to sing along in her own little language, and when he looks at you, eyes shining with adoration, your chest feels tight and constricted.

You really didn’t deserve these two.

It takes a couple of hours to get to Frankie’s favourite spot—somewhere familiar to you from the many times he had taken you there. The small clearing is the same as it always has been, the large logs still situated around a small burnt patch of ground where leftover charred logs sat from previous campers. Frankie’s quick to erect the tent and organise the bedding inside, and soon he’s joining you and Mena at the edge of the wide lake glowing under the fading sun.

She’s dancing in the sand, little bare feet kicking up the grains as she twirls and twists and giggles when she goes too far and her toes touch the cool water. You sink to the ground and hug your legs, content to watch her enjoy the last bit of sunlight before it sinks beneath the horizon with a longing to feel as wild and carefree as she does.

“Papa!”

Frankie answers her call with a loud playful growl, and soon she’s squealing as he chases her across the sandbank. He catches her, throws her over his shoulder and spins, laughing at her wild screams of delight as he tickles her sides. Your chest warms, and the smile tugging at your lips is automatic as Mena runs on unsteady legs back to you, curls bouncing in her pigtails as she escapes Frankie’s arms and bolts to you for safety.

“Mama!” She climbs into your arms and your face drops in shock, wide eyes blinking up at Frankie who’s stopped dead behind her. The grin that widens his face practically blinds you, his eyes immediately shining with a sheen of tears as he drops beside you and smothers you both with a hug, pressing loud kisses to wherever he could reach. Mena giggles, pulling away to look between the pair of you with sparkling dark eyes. Little arms wind around both you and Frankie as she cuddles you close, her little head falling tiredly against your chest.

You catch Frankie looking at you, and return his fond gaze, smiling shyly under his admiration. The three of you snuggle together as the sun disappears, throwing bright hues of pink and orange across the cloudy sky, and finally, the tight feeling in your chest lessens under the pressure of two pairs of loving arms. Finally—you feel like you can breathe.

Frankie pipes up soon after the sun sets, “Who’s hungry?”

Mena’s head pops up instantly, the sleepiness that was just weighing her body down seemingly vanishing at the mention of food. She wiggles off your lap, and runs back to the campsite leaving you and Frankie chuckling quietly to yourselves as you follow. He and Mena sit together while he builds a fire, and you hear him talk through the process, Mena watching with curious eyes as he stacks the wood and lights it.

You all stay huddled together as the chill of the night drops over the camp site, sharing quiet laughs and keeping Mena entertained until her eyes start to drop. You stay mostly quiet, happy to just witness the two loves of your life share in each other’s affections.

Soon you and Frankie are left alone once Mena succumbs to sleep, and he brings two cups out with his phone playing quiet music, wiggling the bottle of whiskey he had hidden in his bag mischievously after putting her down in the tent. He pours a generous amount into both before sinking onto the log beside you, watching the flames dance in the dark before nudging you softly.

“Talk to me, baby.”

Sighing, your finger traces the rim of the cup and you shrug helplessly. “I don’t know. I just... I haven’t been feeling like myself lately.”

He nods, “Has something happened?”

You purse your lips, thinking over the last few weeks. Nothing jumps out and you shrug again, frowning at the flames. “No. My head just... I don’t know. I’m happy with my life—I love you, more than anything, and Mena, too... my job is fine—everything’s fine, but... my head just...” you struggle to finish your sentence, frown deepening.

You’re not making any sense. You never make sense. How can you possibly turn the jumble of thoughts in your head into words and make him understand? You barely understood it all yourself. What did you have to be upset over? Your life was picture perfect. Perfect man, perfect daughter, perfect job, a home full of love... so many people had it worse. You shouldn’t feel the way you do.

You must’ve spoken aloud because the next minute Frankie is reaching for your hand, rubbing the skin soothingly.

“I get it.” He says quietly, shooting you a comforting smile when you blink up at him, tears filling your eyes. “Our minds can be cruel sometimes, but just because there are others out there who may have it worse doesn’t take away from how you feel. You matter, just as much as others.”

You don’t try to stop the tears that fall from your eyes, instead letting them fall down your cheeks in a heavy flow. He moves closer in response, moving the arm holding your hand around your shoulder and pulling you in close to his side. The warmth from his body seeps into yours and you take a shaky breath as the tears continue.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you want to talk to someone? I know of a few good doctors around.”

Shaking your head, you lean your head on his shoulder and sigh deeply. “No, I think I’m alright for now, but if it gets worse...”

His arm tightens in response, and he nods quietly.

“I’m here for you, honey.” He murmurs, turning to kiss your forehead gently. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

You smile through your tears, turning to gaze up at him gratefully. “Thank you, Frankie.”

Quiet conversation starts up once the flow of tears dies off, and soon he has you in fits of laughter, the whiskey loosening the last bits of tension from your frame as it warms your insides. When Frankie’s favourite song comes on, he’s up before you can even make a comment, holding a hand out to you with a wide grin once he throws back the last of his drink and tosses his cup aside without a care.

“What?” You ask, eyeing his open palm with a grin.

“Dance with me.”

How could you ever say no? You couldn’t. Not to him. Your grin turns shy as you take his hand, letting him pull you up and off the log and into his frame. He holds you close, arms winding securely around you as you sway softly. The stars catch your attention when you rest your head on his shoulder, and you feel a lump growing in the back of your throat when Frankie starts to softly sing in your ear. It’s not depressive thoughts that have you on the verge of tears this time. Instead, your heart is damn near bursting, the flood of love for this man so strong you have to stop yourself from squeezing him too tight.

Your eyes flick to watch a shooting star, but instead of making a wish, you tuck yourself impossibly closer to Frankie. You didn’t need a wish—you had everything you needed already.

+

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed

[raggaraddy]

Mercy

Summary: You want to save your friend from Seokjin even though you know how cruel his punishments can be.

Trigger warning: Torture, assault, burning.

A/N: Please note this story has violent themes that may be uncomfortable for some readers. Please do not read this story if you are underage or are sensitive to such topics.

Seokjin

Yandere!Seokjin King!Seokjin

"I will die." Is all Annette could say, over and over. The elderly maid stood with you, the remnants of a suit jacket in her hands, a helpless fright shaking her words. She had been distracted for a moment and the fabric had caught on a candle. Her reaction was one of frozen shock and the flame quickly jumped along it, scorching about 30% of the material before you managed to put it out.

Whether the King cared for the item or not, whether he even noticed it was gone was irrelevant. You all knew better than to hide something from him. He would eventually find out, somehow he always did. And when he found out she had hidden her failure, he would bring the very concept of hell to life for her deception.

That being said, to confess to such a mistake would also certainly lead to dire consequences. All of the staff knew to catch his attention in any way was a disastrous thing. And any action that gave him a reason to torture you would surely become your greatest regret.

At nearly 70 years, Annette had seen and heard just about all of what the King was capable of. He may be a merciful ruler, but within these walls, he was nothing more than a beast in search of yet another person to devour.

You knew as well as any other, if not more so, exactly why she was so afraid. The thought of what he could do terrified you. But you also knew that she was one among many of the staff who had gone out of their way to shelter you from the King in the initial months after you started at the palace. If you had heeded their instruction and warnings, you may have never even crossed his path. But you were impetuous and resistant and now you had the scars and marks as penance. You also knew that with or without reason or mistake, you already had the Kings focus. Maybe today or maybe tomorrow or the day after, he was going to call you to him again like he regularly did, and he was going to take pleasure in hurting you. Nothing was going to stop that.

But there was still an opportunity to spare this woman.

It was only you and Annette here to see the jacket be damaged. It could have easily been you that was distracted. You were known to be absent-minded. It would be very believable that this was your fault.

"Anne, give it to me." You request, holding your hands out. The woman, still in a daze, hands it over without any acknowledgment. You point to your section of the room to the clothes you had been cleaning. "Those were yours, okay." You gesture to her section and the damaged garment. "And these are mine."

Your meaning seems to slowly click into place. "No, Y/n. You can not do that, Love. I-"

"You are my friend. And you made a simple mistake. You shouldn't have to suffer for it. You know what Jin will do to me anyway. There is no need for both of us to-." Your words are strong and sure but taper off as the fear and worry you feel on the inside stop you from creating a complete sentence.

With a mix of pain and gratitude in her eyes, she resigns with a nod. Accepting your merciful offer.

His attendant had informed you that the King was available and alone. You realized early on that it was better to come to him when he was by himself. Not that it would lessen how he treated you, but at least this way no one else would see what he would do to you. And it would save you some shame.

The guard knocks on the door. He opens it with permission and announces you. On hearing the King call you in, you have to wipe your hands down the length of your dress to rid them of sweat. You enter the room, the guard closing the door on your back sealing you in the study.

Sitting at his desk Jin's usual emotionless expression is gone, a subtle look of intrigue in its place. And what is nearly a smile on his lips.

You had never come to him of your own free will before. He had always summoned you. But here you were. Seeming to offer yourself up.

"Your Majesty." You curtsy, bowing your head if only to hide the tremble in your eyes.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected company?" He purrs.

This was it. Time to confess to something you had not done and receive a punishment you did not deserve. While you could never actually do it, you can't help but momentarily question whether to instead tell the truth and betray Annette.

You breathe deep for strength. "I need to apologize for a mistake I made." You look up to him to sense his reaction. For a brief moment, he flashes a look that is nearly giddy with excitement.

"For what?" He prompts.

Gripping it tightly, you lift up the tattered jacket for him to see.

He stands, that hidden smile becoming clear on his face. Circling the desk, he takes it from your hands and continues strolling down the room until he stops next to the lounge arrangement in front of the fireplace. Turning, his finger is pressed to his lips in thought.

"Come here," he calls softly with a drawing motion from the same finger.

You swallow heavily, sucking your tongue to wet your dry mouth. Although you follow the order, you are filled with regret and a deep-seated desire to turn and run from him instead. However, you had made that mistake once before and you swore you would never again.

"Kneel." He points down to the fireplace's outer hearth. Looking lowly and fighting back nausea, you do. You can feel the heat from the burning wood and embers against your front right away. "Place your arm above the fire." He instructs. The calm of his tone not matching with the cruelty of the order.

There is only a wall around the fireplace. So the only thing he could mean is to put your arm inside the firepit over the flame.

Slowly, trying not to touch the top of the pit or the fire itself, you guide your arm in as Jin commanded. Instantly, the heat swarms around your skin and too quickly it goes from warm to hot to burning. You hold it for about 20 seconds, hissing air in through your teeth until you can't any longer.

You yank your body back with a yelp. Panting, looking over how the skin has turned red after only a few moments.

His large hands grab your hair and slam your face into the bricked wall. Your head bounces off and you fall back, clutching your forehead feeling the skin having torn.

Seokjin nods towards the outer hearth again, mouth pressed into a straight line. You want to beg and whine for him to not make you do this, but again you had done so a few times before and were taught quickly that it was better to not say or do anything more than what he orders.

Hesitantly you climb back up. He's not going to ask again, the next time he is more likely to push you into the coals himself.

Unable to stop yourself from jerking your arm back every few inches, you slow back above the fire. The burn returning even quicker. You force yourself to hold still this time. Drawing on all your strength to endure. Your fingers and cut forehead pressing and clinging into the bricks, you try to bear the pain as you feel your skin beginning to burn.

Kicking your feet under you, you're whimpering and squealing, tears pricking in your eyes, as waves of sharp sizzling pangs spur up your arm. Instinctually your body continues to flinch and jerk, fighting to get away, but you overpower your impulses. The effort turning shrill cries into outright screams of agony.

For nearly two minutes Seokjin listens and watches you writhe and cry, a small satisfied smile on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes.

At a point past pain where the throb in your body starts to have you feeling numb, the King finally grants you quarter, permitting you to remove your arm.

You do so stiffly. Your entire body throbbing, head pounding. Your chest compressed from heavy sobs.

Dropping onto the ground, you cradle your arm. Your forearm and palm are littered with blisters and burns. The skin red and ruined.

The King holds the tarnished fabric upright, examining it again for a moment. With a shrug, he throws it into the fireplace to finish its destruction. "No matter," he tisks "I didn't really like that jacket anyway."

[hangovercurse]

Full House

Rook gets home from the hospital and life in the Baker-Cappelletty house is more hectic than ever.

Requests: “Can I get a JP Cappelletty imagine where you have help take care of him after his accident (at home) please”

“Idk if I’ve sent this one or not but can I have a Rook imagine where you take care of him after his accident and you have a daughter and live with Colson and how your life is then and maybe Colson helps out please (sorry if that’s a lot)”

Rook x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, implied smut, mentions of Rook’s accident

Word Count: 1459

“Look who’s home, Cameryn!” You cheered to your 2-year-old daughter, “Is that grandpa and daddy?” You picked her up so she could see through the window you were looking out of and then carried her to the front door.

Colson rushed over to the door and opened it for you, following you out, and then walked over to meet Rook and Johnny, who were still working on getting all of Rook’s things out of the car. You watched Colson’s interactions with your boyfriend as you moved over to them, Cameryn still in your arms.

Rook lit up when he saw her, “Hey princess.” He reached his arms up as you moved to set her on his lap, “other princess.” You pressed a quick peck on his mouth, a small smile spreading across your features. Your daughter squealed in excitement, having only been to see Rook once while he was in the hospital.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay with you guys for a couple days?” Johnny asked, Rook’s bag slung over his shoulder and a folder full of paperwork in one hand. You moved to grab the back of Rook’s wheelchair, only to be waved away by Colson, who was also attempting to take the position.

You smiled at the man, “We’ll be fine. You should go home; you’ve spent the past week in a hospital. We can take care of him now.”

Colson piped in, “besides, I’m here. I’ll take great care of Rookie!” There was obvious mischief in his voice, but you knew from years of living with Colson that he’d be there when it came down to it.

You grabbed the backpack and folder from Rook’s dad as Rook spoke, “Dad, I’m good. Go home, please.” Johnny reluctantly agreed, giving into the fatigue that was coursing through his body telling him to go to sleep in a real bed.

“Alright, text me if you need anything.” He moved to Rook’s side, picking up your daughter, who was poking at her dad’s new hand braces. “Bye bye, Cameryn,” he said, tickling her sides and making her scream with laughter.

“Bye, bye grandpa.” She said once she had calmed down, waving to him as she was placed into Rook’s lap again.

Johnny laughed, “she’s getting a lot better.”

Rook smiled down at her, “yeah she is. We were worried for a while because she wouldn’t talk, but now that’s all she wants to do.” He poked her sides gently, making her laugh.

“Alright, by kiddos. Goodluck with those three, Y/N.” Johnny waved as he got into his car.

You laughed, “thanks, I’ll need it.”

 Later that night you were trying to figure out how to manage life with one less pair of legs in the house. Luckily, Cameryn was having one of her calmer days and didn’t require the attention of three adults. She had sat on the couch with Rook most of the day, playing with various toys and being entertained by her father. You and Colson took turns in the room, making sure that Cameryn was returned to the couch if she ever ran off.

“Hide and seek?” Cameryn asked Rook while you prepared dinner in the kitchen. She had been on a kick with the game lately since Slim and Colson had taught her last week.

Rook sighed, “I can’t play hide and seek, kiddo. Maybe uncle Colson will play with you.”

Cameryn whined, “no! Play with you.”

“I can’t play, princess, my leg hurts. See?” He pointed to the boot on his foot with a frown.

Cameryn insisted, “hide and seek!”

You sighed, stepping away from the kitchen and peering into the room, “Cam, daddy can’t play hide and seek right now. Why don’t you ask Uncle Colson? Or play something else.”

Her lip started quivering and both you and Rook went into panic mode, trying to prevent the tantrum that was coming. “Wanna play!” She cried, starting to bounce up and down on the couch angrily. Rook tried his best to calm her down, but there wasn’t much he could do to stop her movements.

You moved towards her, only to be stopped by Kells. “I got this,” he whispered, “finish dinner and take a break, you’ve earned it.”

You smiled as you watched him scoop up Cameryn, bouncing her lightly in his arms to make her calm down. “Hey, Cameryn, let’s go play with some of your toys, yeah?”

Once the girl had left the room, you turned your attention to Rook, who was sporting a frown. “This fucking sucks,” he murmured, “I can’t do anything, can’t even take care of my own fucking daughter.”

You moved over to him quickly after checking that nothing would burn in your absence, “I don’t know if you were aware, but you got hit by a car, which is pretty badass.” You took a seat next to him, running a hand up his arm, “I know it sucks right now, but you’re not gonna be like this forever. And Cameryn will learn, she’s smart.”

Rook pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “she gets that from you.” You rolled your eyes at his lame words, standing up to move back to the kitchen.

“I don’t know what you think flattery is going to get you, but I promise it’s not going to work.” You called.

He chuckled, “damn, was hoping it’d get me another kid.” You rolled your eyes, picking a pillow off the couch as you walked by and chucking it at him.

 After the first week, you’d settled into an easy routine with Rook being out of commission. Luckily, you and Colson both worked from home, so you were only ever a shout away from your needy toddler and needy boyfriend.

The two of them ended up making quite the team against you and Colson, constantly whining for things because they were unable to get whatever it was for themselves. Most days, Rook kept Cameryn on the couch, reading to her and trying to teach her new words. Then Colson would take her outside to run around, something that Rook would normally do. You’d bring them all food whenever you could get a break, and as soon as you were finished with work, you’d plop yourself next to Rook on whatever piece of furniture he’d chosen to lounge on that day.

Today, he hadn’t had the energy to get out of your bed and move to the couch, so that’s where you joined him. Cameryn was on his lap, crawling over the bed to you once you’d settled in. “Hey you,” you said softly, “you’ve been good for daddy?”

Cameryn nodded firmly while Rook spoke, “we learned all about penguins and seals today. She loved them so much that she made me read the same book about them 5 times.” You giggled at his expression, “and then we watched lots of TV and took a nap.”

You hummed, “yeah? Did you work on any of those leg exercises the doctors gave you?”

Rook smiled, eager to show off his work, “Cameryn did them too. We did some leg lifts and we bent our knees, didn’t we?” The girl giggled when his attention shifted to her, “We’re still good to go back to the hospital tomorrow for that checkup, right?”

You pressed a kiss against his cheek, “yep. Colson’s gonna watch Cam for the day so we’re good.” Your hand reached out to stroke Cameryn’s hair lightly, “I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

Colson stuck his head in the room, “you’d die.” He laughed as he moved further into the room, plopping onto the bed next to Rook’s feet. “I was not listening to your conversation, I just happened to hear my name and you know I have a big ego.”

Rook rolled his eyes, “if I had a good foot, I would kick you right now.”

Colson laughed, grabbing Cameryn from you, and flipping her so she was hanging upside down over his shoulder. “I’m taking her for the night so you two can finally have some alone time.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you both suggestively, walking out of the room. “How does ice cream for dinner sound, Cam?”

The girl cheered as you sighed, leaning further into Rook, and letting the tension out of your shoulders. He used two fingers to move your jaw so you were facing him, leaning down, and kissing you deeply. Once you pulled away you let your forehead rest against his own, noses brushing against each other. It was quiet for a minute, you and Rook basking in each other’s presence. “You know you’re gonna have to top, right?”

You chuckled, pulling away from him. “Way to ruin the moment, loser.”

Taglist

@bakerkells @elviablo​ @iambashfulperson @sunflowerbebe107 @crystalbaby12 @stormrider505 @bowwowzer @mvrylee @daddyavesxx​ @pettyvxbes​

[junosartsthetic]

Feel like I'm requesting too much 3 with Tenya Iida :)

“Have you ever felt like this before?”

Well, well, well, if it isn't my old friend getting carried away with writing. We meet again. But seriously. I love writing and you can never request too much. I love fulfilling requests. And this was super cute to write!

__

You could tell by the look in his eyes that he’d never been to a theme park before. Being that he was from a rich family, you were surprised. Though, being that Tenya was all work and no play, you shouldn’t have been too in shock.

You, being the daredevil you were, dragged him straight to the most intense coaster in the entire park. Lucky for you, Tenya had managed to buy some fastpasses, thus you ran straight to the start of the ride, bouncing excitedly.

“Are you positive these rides are safe,” he mumbled to you. You shot him a look.

“Umm, yeah?” You noticed he shook slightly. “Are you scared or something? We could have planned something else to do for fun, ya know.”

You nudged his arm. “We’re friends. You can tell me if you don’t wanna be here. I won’t be mad or anything.”

He shook his head, giving you his usual friendly smile. “No, it’s okay. I want to try something new. And I want to spend time with you.”

One of the operators gestured to the two of you, pointing to the front of the coaster. “Alright, the two of you get row 1.”

You squealed happily. “Oh yeah, this one is especially great in the front row because you can see the giant drop before you start going!”

Iida’s smile lessened. “Sounds… great.”

You sat down, Iida taking the seat next to you. You pulled down your restraints, locking yourself into place. “Just pull it down over your head,” you said. “They’ll come and double check you’re strapped in.”

He did as told, and after a quick check, you heard the main operator give the all clear.

“Have fun, folks,” she called. “And enjoy the 300 foot drop!”

“The WHAT?” Iida cried, nervously looking around. You put a hand on his leg.

“It’ll be fun,” you reassured. “Don’t worry.”

The car began to climb up the hill slowly, chains rattling as you were pulled higher and higher into the air. You could see the entire park, and you made sure to note the locations of the other popular coasters.

Meanwhile, Tenya looked around helplessly.

You heard the pull chain stop, and looked down at the massive drop dead ahead. “Alright, now be sure to pose for the camera. It’ll be at the middle of the drop!” you yelled.

Tenya didn’t have time to respond, the car roaring down the hill. You felt your butt leave the seat, and whooped excitedly. You managed to throw up a peace sign as you passed the camera.

You turned towards Iida as the car squealed up the first loop. His eyes were wide, and he gripped the sides of his glasses to keep them from flying off his face. Despite this, he had a large smile on his face.

“See! It’s fun!” You yelled. “It’s like using your quirk but you get to go upside down and stuff!”

His shoulders relaxed when the coaster slowed at a plateau, preparing for another massive drop. “You were right, these are exhilarating!” he yelled back to you.

His voice quaked with nervousness, but he was buzzing with excitement.

When the coaster finally pulled back into the station, he was smiling widely, clapping. You’d never seen him so relaxed before. “I see what all the commotion is about!”

“I told you!”

You wasted no time in leading him to all the best rides in the park, and by the end of the day your brains felt like scrambled eggs, but your adrenaline and excitement were unmatched. “We need to get souvenirs!” you said, gesturing to a shop beside the coaster you just rode. He nodded.

“Of course! I’ll pay for them!”

Normally, you would argue, but you decided to let it go. Afterall, he was rich.

You walked in, perusing the different shirts and hoodies they had. You spotted one you liked and grabbed two of them. “Here,” you said. “We can match!”

You set them on the counter and smiled at the employee. She smiled back. “D’aww. Matching shirts. Cute.”

Iida swiped his credit card.

She bagged the two shirts, handing them to you. She leaned in close. “Girl, he’s a keeper. These are overpriced as hell.”

You blushed. “Oh, umm, we…” you decided to simply smile and nod.

You and him exited the store, and you immediately threw on the shirt, telling him to do the same. “C’mon,” you said. “We gotta take a picture and post it. Let our friends know that I actually got you to ride a roller coaster.”

You pulled out your phone, smiling widely as you threw up a peace sign. Iida did the same. “Say cheese,” you said, snapping the picture.

You posted it to Instagram with the caption, ‘A fun day with the prez. P.s. @Denkichu I told you he’d enjoy it!’

You slid your phone back into your pocket, looking towards Tenya. “The park is almost closed so we should probably head towards the entrance.”

You noticed he was looking around in awe. “Wow,” he muttered. He clutched his shirt. “Have you ever felt like this before? I feel so happy. This has been the most I’ve smiled in a long time.”

You gave him a nudge. “I know. You’ve been smiling all day. You can always come here again, as often as you want, if you enjoy it. Maybe you can take some of our other friends along. I’m sure they’d be in shock at how much you like it here.”

He shook his head, turning towards you. “I don’t think it’s just this park. Being here with you is what really makes me smile.”

You clutched your chest. “Aww, you make me smile, too. That’s what friends are for!”

He suddenly looked away. “Yes. Right. Of course.”

You grabbed his arm. “Hey. You okay?”

He moved to grab your hand, pulling you towards the first roller coaster you rode. “Let’s ride this again. I need to tell you something before we leave here.”

You shrugged. “Alright.”

It didn’t take long for you to be off, creeping up the giant hill. This time, you could see the night sky, lights of the park shining below you. You were tempted to pull out your phone to take a picture but decided against it.

You looked towards Tenya. “Alright, so what did you want to tell me? Quickly, before we drop 300 feet and I start screaming.”

He gulped. “Well, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, and I appreciate you dearly. You’re a wonderful friend, and…”

The drop drew ever closer.

“I’m flattered,” you said. “But maybe get to the point a little faster…”

He clutched his eyes shut as the car stopped, starting to tip over the edge. “I think I’m in love with you!”

Your eyes widened, and the car careened downwards.

“Tenya!” you screamed over the sounds of the track. “Did you just say ‘I’m in love with you’!?” You couldn’t be sure.

“Yes!” he yelled, gripping onto his restraints as he dangled upside down. You noticed his glasses slipping off and clutched the sides of his face to keep them steady. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything but this trip made me realize it! I believe that telling you is the best thing to do! I understand if you don’t reciprocate my feelings!”

The second drop was quickly approaching, and as the car slowed, you smiled at him. You brought his face closer to you. “Don’t be stupid, Tenya!” you said. “Of course I reciprocate your feelings, you nerd!”

He placed his hands atop yours. The car dropped, speeding down the second drop. “Do I have your permission to kiss you!” he yelled.

“Yes! Hurry up before we pull back into the station and get kicked out for PDA!”

With that, he closed the gap.

You pulled away from him just as you slid to a stop. Your cheeks were burning, and your adrenaline was pumping wildly through your veins. That was the most heart-racing thing you’d ever done.

You cleared your throat as you pulled back into the station. Quickly releasing your restraints and hopping out of the car, you dragged him out of the coaster and back onto the main walkway.

“For such a formal person,” you quipped, leaning against his shoulder. “That was quite the confession.”

“Well,” he responded, fixing his glasses awkwardly. “You’re quite the person to confess to.”

You smiled softly, pecking him on the cheek. “Let’s get outta here. We still have time to get ice cream tonight.”

He nodded, grabbing your hand and squeezing it. “Of course. Anywhere you want to go, I’ll go with you.”

[flooffybits]

Heart On My Sleeve

Idol: Kim Jiwoo (Loona)

Anon: Can I request a Loona Chuu highschool!au when Chuu 'falls in love' very easily but usually stops liking them cause of the pickiest reason like if they laugh weird or something like that, but when she meets (fem) reader she falls head over heals for her. So that's really all I can think of. Sorry if it wasn't much lmao.

☕buy me a coffee☕

A/n: guess who’s back :3

"Are you going to start talking about Sooyoung again or have you set your eyes on someone new?" A weird sound came from the girl’s lips as she looked at her friend with a pout. “I don’t like Sooyoung anymore.” She muttered, arms crossed with a huff as she doodled on the end page of her best friend’s notebook.

Hyunjin shook her head whilst Jungeun rolled her eyes, not at all surprised by the admission. “Well aside from the fact that she’s dating someone already, what’s the reason your crush was a no go?” Hyejoo questioned while munching on the snack the eldest handed to her. “Sooyoung is nice! She’s just... I don’t know. When she squeals, it’s so high pitched sometimes.”

Her three friends gave her an odd look. “You’re complaining about her having a high pitch?” Hyunjin snorted and Hyejoo scoffed. “Unnie, have you heard your own voice?” Jiwoo pouted even more as the youngest spoke. “You don’t even have to try for us to hear how high your voice can be.”

“Shut up.” Jungeun just rubbed the bridge of her nose before letting out a sigh. “I honestly don’t know with you.” She chuckled before giving her best friend a light pat on the arm. “Well, whatever happens or whoever you set your eyes on, next, try not to criticize them too much.”

“I don’t do that.”

“You do.”

“I thought you were on my side!” Jiwoo whined as Hyunjin shrugged her shoulders and began to collect her things. “I’m on the entertaining side. And right now, that’s against you.” She teased playfully, making the other two laugh while Jiwoo attempted to glare at her, only to fail as she buried her face in her hands and let out a groan.

“We’ll see you later.” Hyejoo told them as both she and Hyunjin exited the classroom, being they were from a younger year. “See you!”

Once their two friends left, Jungeun cleaned up the bits of crumbs on her desk left by Hyejoo before she turned to her best friend, whose shoulders slumped and her expression clearly screamed out what she was exhausted.

“You know, it doesn’t hurt liking someone a certain way.” She suddenly spoke up and Jiwoo rested her chin on her desk, sulking. “I know, but it’s so hard to find just one person who makes everything perfect.” She complains, making her friend crinkle her nose and cross her arms. “People are always going to have flaws, Chuu. You just have to learn to accept them if you really want to be with someone.”

Yet her words only caused a pout to form on the latter’s face as she laid her head on her desk, huffing as the teacher finally arrived and greeted the class, something she would usually be listening to, but due to her sulky mood, she didn’t bother lifting her head.

“It’s a bit late, but I hope you can all be nice to your new classmate. She’s not from Korea so I hope you guys can help her out.” The teacher explained before waving for you to enter.

You stand next to his desk and smile lightly, waving to everyone before bowing deeply. “My name is Y/n L/n, I hope we can get along.” You greet them, Jiwoo’s head raising at the new and unfamiliar voice before she felt her eyes widen when she sees your smiling face.

“You can take the seat next to Jungeun, please raise your hand to show where you are.” Jiwoo’s head snapped to her friend when she raised her hand, offering you a friendly smile as you thanked your teacher before heading over to your assigned seat.

Jungeun didn’t even seem to bother checking on her friend when she happily greeted you. “You’re really pretty!” The compliment made a rosy hue appear on your cheeks before you giggled, a sound Jiwoo found herself wanting to hear again.

“Thank you! You’re really pretty, too.”

To see you naturally talking with her best friend left Jiwoo in awe that she ended up paying attention to you rather than the lecture. The entire time, she couldn’t help but steal glances whenever you leaned over to Jungeun and asked her for help when you didn’t understand something.

“Do you need any help getting around?” Jungeun asked when the class was over and you look up at your friendly seatmate before nodding your head. “The school isn’t exactly that big, but being new makes it really hard.” You laughed and Jiwoo couldn’t help but mentally coo at how cute your accent sounded as you spoke in her native tongue.

“You’re Korean is really good!” Was the first thing that came out of the brunette’s mouth and you seemed startled by her sudden intrusion in your conversation, though she’s pleasantly greeted by a bright blush adorning your cheeks due to her compliment.

Jungeun glanced at her friend and quickly realized that she wasn’t alone. “Right, Y/n this is Jiwoo, or Chuu if you’d like.” She introduces and the girl waves happily at you. “Though she’s right. Your pronunciation is really good, where did you study Korean?” Your newfound friend asked curiously and you giggle while hoisting your bag on your shoulders.

Jiwoo takes notice as you blow a few strands of rebelling hair away from your face before feeling her heart skip a beat. “I’ve been studying online. When my dad said we might move, I decided to plan ahead, just in case.” You reply and Jungeun nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense.”

“What’s your next class? So we can help you out on the way there.” Jiwoo speaks again and you giggle at the cute little hop she does, accompanied with a bright smile painted on her features.

It suited her.

Pulling out your notebook, you open the page with your schedule printed on it before showing them. “I have Math for my next class.” You inform them and Junguen grins before patting her best friend on the back. “Looks like you have someone who can keep you company.” Jiwoo blinked a few times, taking your timetable into her own hands to confirm what her friend was saying before her entire face lit up.

“I can show you to our next class and you can sit next to me!” She cheered, latching on to your arm and surprising you by the sudden action, but you laughed nonetheless, enjoying her enthusiasm and excitement as you nodded your head.

And something about the whole thing just made Jiwoo’s heart melt right then and there before she’s tugging at your arm to head to the next class.

Instantly, her best friend could tell by the look on her face just what it was that was running through Jiwoo’s mind, but she could only sigh, shaking her head as she waved her hand. “I’ll see you at lunch. Jiwoo, try not to scare her.”

The statement earned a pout from the said girl and a laugh from you as you both finally walked away, Jiwoo still having yet to release your arm and Jungeun merely sighed as she walked to the other direction. 

“Here we go again.”

..

“Jungeun! Jungeun!” Said girl turned her head in time to see her best friend running over, bouncing on the balls of her feet before she took the seat next to the blonde and squealing with her body visibly shaking.

“What do you-”

“Y/n is amazing!” The bubbly girl didn’t seem to hear her friend as the words came spilling from her mouth at an unbelievable speed that Jungeun had to cover her mouth. “Jiwoo, breathe and talk slower.”

Following her friend’s instructions as best as she could with her excitement, Jiwoo began to recount everything you did during class, which wasn’t exactly much but she found it all too endearing anyway. “We don’t get to sit next to each other, but she sits in front of me.” She explained as Hyunjin and Hyejoo joined them.The pair looked questioningly at the blonde, and she merely shook her head as the other continued with her little ramble. “You said that people have flaws, but she doesn’t! Everything she does is so perfect and even when she mispronounces a word, it’s still the best thing ever because she’s so cute and her little accent sometimes slips.”

The three listen to the girl’s rant and Hyejoo looked more confused before she finally asked. “Who are you talking about this time?” And Jiwoo replies without missing a beat. “Y/n! She’s a transfer student, and she sits next to Jungeun for our first class.”

The name seemed to cause Hyunjin’s ears to perk up before she’s cocking her head. “You mean that Y/n?” She points to the table at the other side of the cafeteria and when everyone looks over, you’re seated next to one of their seniors, Ha Sooyoung in the table with you along with another blonde that Jungeun recognizes as her childhood friend, Jung Jinsoul.

“Heejin mentioned something about her being Vivi unnie’s cousin or something.” Hyunjin informs the group and Jiwoo’s eyes were locked on your figure as you happily conversed with the people who surrounded you. She saw as your supposed cousin gave you a small push after making a comment that had caused Sooyoung’s cheeks to burn and Jinsoul to burst out laughing before she then proceeded to tease her classmate.

Jungeun looked to Hyunjin, a curious look in her eyes. “Since when did you have the guts to talk to Heejin?” She snorted, making the latter glare at her before crossing her arms. “We’re classmates. We talk.” She retorts, though there’s a noticeable blush on her cheeks that she tries to hide by ducking her head, but the youngest at the table was already scoffing.

“I bet it was Heejin unnie who talked to you, first.” Hyunjin grunted before she shoved the younger girl. “So? At least we talked. What about you and Yerim?”

“I’ll have you know that Yerim and I are completely fine and that we’re going out this Friday.”

“You better take care of her, Hyejoo. I don’t want to have to kick you out of this table.”

As the three’s conversation went on, Jiwoo had drowned them out, a small frown on her lips as she continued to watch you from afar. There was a small sting in her chest that made her uncomfortable as you continued to make yourself comfortable with other people, more so when Haseul and Yeojin joined your table and you were then washed with affection by the older girls.

Her usual smiling face had been replaced by a concerned frown before her friends decided to snap her out of it.

“Jiwoo, it’s nothing to be worried about. You know that Vivi unnie has Sooyoung, and Jinsoul unnie and Haseul unnie are naturally affectionate people, so that’s normal.” Yet it didn’t ease the girl as much as she had hoped. “Hold on, let me call someone over.”

All three watched as Hyunjin stood from the table and walked to another group, one that consisted of the mentioned Heejin, along with another blonde. Both seemed confused by her appearance, yet were compliant as they followed Hyunjin to the table she previously sat at.

“Uh...?”

Heejin flashed the group a smile and Hyejoo awkwardly looked away from the shorter blonde, shooting her friend a glare. “Hyunjin said you guys wanted to ask us something?���Jungeun seemed a bit taken aback and Jiwoo was even more puzzled, knowing that the two were Hyunjin’s classmates. So she didn’t understand how two underclassmen would know about you when you were a year above them.

“Hyunjin mentioned that you know Y/n?” Jiwoo asked and the pair seemed to quickly understand before Heejin was gesturing to the girl beside her. “Chaewon can explain better than I can, but we are acquainted.” She explains and the blonde rubbed the back of her neck. “Y/n unnie is my neighbor, actually. Vivi unnie had some things to do, so she asked me if it was okay for me to help unnie adjust, seeing we lived right next to each other.”

“So they are cousins?”

Chaewon nodded in confirmation. “I was also helping Y/n unnie with her Korean lessons right after showing her around.” She added before waving in Heejin’s direction. “That’s how Heejin met unnie. When I was tutoring her at the café, she came and, yeah.” She says, the others already understanding where the story went.

“Why so curious about her?”

Though unlike her friend, Heejin was already looking at Jiwoo with a knowing smile. “Well, if you want to get to know her better, I suggest talking instead of burning a hole into her head.” She says teasingly, now prompting Jiwoo’s face to heat up as she snapped her gaze away from you and Yeojin again.

“Oh.” Chaewon chuckled before shaking her head. “Well, one thing’s for sure, you don’t have to worry about the others. Vivi unnie’s made it clear that they aren’t allowed to try anything.” That caused everyone at the table to perk up and for Jiwoo’s face to go pale.“Why?” Hyunjin couldn’t help asking and Chaewon shrugged. “Protective unnie mode.” She says simply. 

“Well, good luck to you then, unnie.” That was the first Hyejoo’s spoken since the pair arrived, yet everyone agreed with her sentiments as Jiwoo tried to keep a calm expression.

“If it’s any assurance, Vivi unnie only told her circle of friends that, so if you’d like, I think you’re good.” Heejin pats her back, but it doesn’t shake her nerves away. “Are you crazy?” Junguen asked with wide eyes. “Vivi unnie is scary!” Jiwoo squeaked, visibly panicked, but the three ‘00 liners didn’t seem too bothered with the fact.

“In the end, if Y/n unnie ends up liking you, Vivi unnie can’t stop that even if she wanted to.” Chaewon explained nonchalantly, knowing both of you enough to understand your dynamics with your cousin.

Jiwoo pursed her lips at that, the thought stuck in her head for the majority of the day.

But the cherry on top was when she had spotted you in the music room, along with Sooyoung and Haseul. When she was asked why you were there, knowing you weren’t a member of the music club, Haseul answered for you.

“I know that it isn’t exactly the start of the year and that we aren’t really recruiting, but we thought it would be nice to give our friend a shot, considering she’s new and has no clubs.” The older girl stated while patting your shoulder.

You seemed a little embarrassed with the situation, but really, there was only the four of you in the room since everyone else had gone home due to there not being a scheduled meeting for the day.

“If you guys aren’t recruiting, then I think I can wait until the time you are. Seriously, it’s okay.” You tell them, but Sooyoung was already shushing you. “Come on, just give it a try.”Haseul looked to Jiwoo pleadingly. 

“You’re the head of the team, so we just want you to give her a listen. I swear, we aren’t being biased.”

And so she did listen, unknowingly letting Haseul and Sooyoung leave the room without her noticing right before you began to sing. Although weak at first due to your shyness, your voice had eventually enraptured Jiwoo up until the end of the song.

She told you that she would give it some thought, and she really wishes she didn’t.

Because what Heejin and Chaewon told her didn’t leave her after a day or a week.

Her thoughts were filled with only you for weeks, and she doesn’t know what her poor heart has gotten herself into because every day, you only show her more and more reasons to love you instead of stopping like all the other people she’s claimed to have fallen in love with.

And now, she has no idea what she was supposed to do.

[pterodactylterrace]

Adjustments

Title: Adjustments

Chapter: 1/1

Summary: Adjusting to civilian life isn’t easy, especially when your own son doesn’t remember you.

Rating: E

Warnings: Tantrums, naked babies, innuendo, fluff

Coming back home to the arms of his wife and their newly mobile son after being deployed for the last seven months was strange to say the least. The child didn't even recognize his father, Sy having left when he was just a few months old. The little tike was clung to his mother, staring in apprehension at the grizzly of a man pressing kisses all over his mother's face.

"No!" He firmly decided, pushing his father's furry cheek away.

"Silas!" His mother scolded, bouncing the child in chastisement. "That's no way to treat your father."

"No." The little boy repeated, crossing his arms and pouting at his father.

"Aww, it's alright, sugar. He just needs a bit of time to warm up to me. He hasn't seen me in almost a year now. We'll be best buds before you know it."

It took over a month for Silas to agree to let his father stay in the same bed as his mother, the little boy often waking up crying in the middle of the night, demanding his father vacate 'his' side of the bed so he could cuddle with Mommy. Sy was a good sport, bending to his son's wishes, moving from the bed to the couch, hoping to get in the boy's good graces soon.

His son was less than accommodating, crying whenever Sy tried to kiss his wife, throwing a fit whenever Sy would sit next to her, forcing his tiny body between the two to cling to his mother and glare daggers at his father. Sy continued letting the behavior slide, hoping with time his son would come to realize that he wasn't the bad guy, and he wasn't trying to steal his mother away from him.

It all came to a tipping point when Sy tried to sneak into the shower with his wife a few months later, his head falling back in exasperation when he found his son already in the master bathroom, babbling away to his mother from the edge of the tub.

"Come on, little man. Give Mama some privacy, would ya?" Sy sighed, picking up the child who immediately started screaming and kicking.

"Silas!" His mother called from behind the curtain, pulling it back just enough to look at the tantruming child.  

"No, no, my Mama!" He screamed, swatting at his father's face as he attempted to get away.

"And that's my wife." Syverson replied firmly in a tone she recognized very clearly. His 'Captain' voice. The little boy's fit subsided almost instantly at his father's thundering declaration, staring up at his father with wide eyes. "You will not disrespect me or your mother in this house, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes." Came the quiet reply, Silas going limp in his father's arms, all the fight leaving his tiny body.

"Alright. That's better." Syverson praised the little boy, carrying him out of the bathroom. By the time his mother finished her shower, Silas was sitting on his father's knee, the grizzly of a man showing him how to aim his nerf gun properly, letting the little boy pull the trigger, knocking down the empty can turned target with the foam bullet.

"Yeah, good shot, buddy!" Syverson cheered, high fiving the little boy.

"So are you and Daddy getting along now?"

"Daddy!" Silas cheered, throwing his arms around his father's neck and pressing a sloppy baby kiss to his furry cheek. For just a moment, all was right in the world again.

~*~

"Are you ready?" Her voice rang out later that night, coming from the hall bathroom where she had been dutifully bathing their son while Sy relaxed with a beer on the couch.

"Ready?" Sy called back, taking his foot off the coffee table before he was scolded for it again, leaning forward just in time to see her set Silas down, his skin still shiny with baby lotion.

"CATCH THE GREASED UP BABY!" She declared, Silas squealing and streaking through the house as fast as his unsteady legs could carry him. Syverson was on his feet in an instant, leaping over the back of the couch, cutting off the child's chance of escape.

"Daddy!" He squealed, turning to run away from him, laughing loudly as he heard his father's heavy footsteps behind him.

"Oh, I'm gonna get you!" Sy growled, staying just far enough behind the boy to let him think he was escaping.

"No!" The boy squealed, waddling as fast as he could around the side of the couch.

"Oh no, Little Man! If I ain't allowed to run around this house naked, neither are you!" Sy declared, catching the diaper his wife tossed to him, intercepting the child when he ran behind the couch, easily scooping him up into his arms and attacking his chubby face with kisses.

"No!" Silas laughed, squirming futilely in his father's arms.

"Nope. No naked men in the living room. That's your mom's rule, not mine." Sy informed, pretending to body slam the boy onto the couch cushion, much to his delight. It took a few tries to secure the diaper properly, the boy wiggling and giggling the entire time, complicating the job even further.

"I never made up that rule."

"Yes she did. When you were still in her belly, she decided no naked men in the living room. That's how we ended up with you, after all." Sy chuckled, sending a cheeky wink at his wife, his flirtations being reciprocated with a throw pillow to the face.

"Hey now, not around the baby!" Sy gasped, picking his son up and hiding behind the still wildly laughing child.

"Are you using the baby as a human shield?" Another pillow was launched lower, bouncing harmlessly off his thigh.

"He's not a very good one." Sy jokingly groaned, slowly lowering himself to the ground and setting his son down before dramatically falling onto his back.

"Dada!" Silas cheered, launching himself onto his father's belly.

"Dogpile!" She laughed, seating herself on her husband's chest, Syverson raising an amused brow.

"Oh now this I like." He purred, shamelessly staring between her legs.

"Hey now, not in front of the baby."

"Any chance of you sleeping in your own bed tonight, Buddy?"

"No!"

"Damnit."

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

Beach day with Stevie 😍

im so sorry this took me so long to write 

hope you like it!

beach day

warnings: none

word count: 1.4k

“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!” Stevie yelled, running down the hallway to the kitchen.

“We’re coming we’re coming we’re coming!” Harry yelled back, matching the two year old’s energy. He grabbed her as she ran past, lifting her high in the air. She squealed with laughter, kicking her legs as she looked down at him

“Put me down, we have to go!” 

“Hm... I don’t think so,” Harry smiled, lifting her onto his shoulders. “Let’s go like this! What do you think?” He turned to look at you.

“How will you drive?” You asked. “We can just open the sunroof and Stevie can stay on my shoulders. Right?” He looked up at her.

“Right!” “I don’t think so,” you laughed. “Put her down so she can get her sand toys.”

Harry obliged, crouching down carefully to let Stevie back to the ground.

“I think she might be excited to go to the beach,” you grinned as you watched her run off.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” he laughed. “Do we have everything else?”

“I think so,” you said, mentally going through your checklist. “I already put the towels in the car and the snacks are in the cooler here.”

He nodded, picking up the cooler and bringing it over to the door just as Stevie ran back in, carrying a bucket full of cups and molds and shovels. 

“Ready?” You asked. 

She nodded excitedly, holding out her arms for you to pick her up. You carried her out to the car, buckling her seatbelt before you got in your seat. You took Harry’s hand once he settled on a radio station, and away you went. 

“We’re that couple,” you mused, looking at your intertwined hands.

“What couple?”

“That annoying couple that everyone hates because they’re so in love with each other.”

“Hm... I like being that couple,” he smiled.

“Me too.”

-----

“Do you see the water, Stevie?” You pointed out your window toward the ocean.

 “We’re almost there!” She clapped excitedly.

“We are,” Harry nodded. “We are going to build the biggest sand castle ever.”

“No way,” Stevie’s jaw dropped.

“Yes way,” Harry said very seriously. “It’s going to be the coolest thing you’ve ever seen.

-----

”Harry didn’t lie. He was really good at building sand castles. You weren’t sure how he did it, but the thing was as tall as Stevie and it had only been half an hour. 

“What, you thought I was bluffing?” He grinned when he saw the surprised look on your face. 

“No, just exaggerating,” you smiled.

“Rude,” he huffed, splashing some water at you. 

“Hey,” you protested, raising your arms to splash him back. He was quick to run away and scoop Stevie into his arms, using her as a shield. She screamed, laughing and squirming to get away. 

“Oh come on, you’re using our child as a human shield, that’s not fair,” you laughed. 

“You can’t catch us!” He yelled, lifting her higher as he ran down the beach away from you. 

-----

“Come on Stevie, help me bury him,” you said, scooping sand onto Harry’s legs.

 “Why are we burying me again?” He asked, wiggling his toes. 

“You were mean to mommy,” Stevie explained in a very matter of fact voice. 

“Oh. I’m sorry,” he smiled sweetly.

“Nope, you can’t get out of this,” you smiled back just as sweet. “This is what happens when you dump a full bucket of water on me.”

“It was not a full bucket of water, it was half at most.”

“Stevie?” You turned to her.

“It was full,” she nodded, piling more sand on top of him.

“See,” you smirked at him.

“She’s only agreeing because that means she gets to keep burying me!”

“Hm. Tragic.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “Alright, that’s enough of that,” he groaned as he lifted his legs out of the sand. 

“No!” Stevie yelled, frantically trying to move it back on top of him. He was faster than her, standing up and brushing the sand out of her hands. He picked her up, copying the pout on her face when she looked at him. She couldn’t stay grumpy for too long with that ridiculous look on his face, and soon she was giggling again. You reached for your phone, snapping an adorable picture of them with huge smiles on their faces. Stevie had sand all over her, and Harry’s hair was wild from the water. They had never looked more perfect. 

“Mind if I post this?” You asked, tilting the phone to show Harry. 

“Go for it,” he smiled, bouncing Stevie a bit. 

“What now?”

“To the water!” She yelled, pointing to the waves. 

“To the water!” He agreed, taking off in a run as she laughed. You set your phone down, following them. Harry had put Stevie down and they were holding hands as the waves washed over their feet. Stevie squealed and jumped each time, making Harry laugh. You joined them, taking Stevie’s other hand. You and Harry stepped forward, lifting Stevie up so she could swing between you. Her feet were just grazing the tips of the waves, and she laughed excitedly as she kicked her legs. 

“Should we go further in?” Harry asked, looking at the happy toddler between you.

“Yes!” She kicked her legs with more force, almost like she could move you forward from her movements. You laughed, stepping deeper.

“Put me down!” Stevie said, kicking her feet as more water surrounded them. You and Harry did as she asked, still keeping a firm grip on her hands as you lowered her into the water. It came up to her chest, which made you a little nervous, but she was clearly not concerned. She pulled one of her arms away from you, running her fingers through the waves in fascination. 

“She’s braver than I am,” you smiled. “I wouldn’t go that deep.”

“I would keep you safe,” Harry grinned, leaning over to peck your cheek. 

“You better, that’s actually why I married you.”

“Oh really? Because I’m tall?”

“Yeah, how else would I reach the top shelf at the grocery store? That”s your only purpose,” you smiled at him.

“Understandable,” he nodded, a serious look on his face before it broke out into his dimpled smile. 

-----

“Come on Stevie, get your toys together!” You called her over from the edge of the water. “It’s almost time to go home.”

“No!” She cried, turning around to look at you and Harry. The two of you had been reclining in the setting sun for the past thirty minutes, but it was getting noticeably colder. 

“I know, love, but the sun is going down,” Harry said, pointing to the sky. “see how it’s turning red? That means it’s time to go home.”

She pouted, but made her way over to you nonetheless. She helped you pack up the bags, reaching out for Harry to pick her up. 

“I don’t want to go,” she said sadly, burying her face in his neck. 

“We’ll come back soon, I promise,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek when she lifted her head. 

“Tomorrow?”

“Maybe not tomorrow,” you smiled. “But soon.” 

You could tell she was getting tired. She barely spoke the whole way back to the car, not even moving when Harry buckled her in to her seat. He took your hand again when he got in, lifting your hand to kiss the back of it as he pulled out of your parking spot. 

“I think we tired her out,” you said quietly, glancing back to see Stevie sleeping soundly.

“I think we did,” he smiled, looking at her in the mirror. “I’ve never seen her fall asleep so fast.”

“This is my favorite day,” you sighed happily.

“Yeah?”

You nodded, pulling out your phone to look through the pictures you had taken. “See how cute you are?” You smiled, showing him a few of your favorites. “Are you blushing?”

“No,” he denied immediately, but he couldn’t hide the pink tinge on his cheeks.

“You are,” you smiled, clicking your phone off. “You’re blushing because you’re adorable,” You reached over, poking your finger into the prominent dimple on his face when he matched your grin.

“I think this might be my favorite day too.”

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 43

Chapter 43

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, heart break and heartache, swearing, drinking soft, smut

Word Count: 12000

You are awoken at 8am by Elise stirring slightly beside you. Knowing she is hungry and this is the last time you will get to feed her before the honeymoon you adjust your top and pull her into your embrace. You have plenty of milk in the fridge ready for your trip, but you want to enjoy this intimate moment with your daughter.

She immediately latches and you lean back against the headboard gently brushing her thin hairs from her forehead you stare down at her. Normally you would be completely mesmerized staring down at her; this huge piece of you, piece of Fred resting in your embrace. Just as you had felt with your three sons; and every morning with Elise up until this point.

Normally you use these quiet moments with your kids to try to determine what traits they have taken from you, what they have taken from Fred, their father, the man you are set to marry today.

But not today.

Today you feel uneasy, anxious, a ball of nerves resting in your gut. Your stomach doing backflips, nausea washing over you. Your entire body gets hot, palms getting clammy; you take deep breaths in through your nose and out your mouth, hoping you can make it through the feeding without puking.

You hear Carlee groan at the light knocking at the door, followed by her footsteps on the tile floor. Making your way out to the living room Allie stumbles out of her room wiping sleep from her eyes. Metal squeaking accompanies Carlee as she rolls the tray into the room. She pulls the lids off as you flop onto the couch as Sarah makes her way to join you.

“Good morning beautiful, can’t wait to see you in eight hours when you finally become my wife. Love you xoxo Fred” Carlee reads from a card that accompanies your breakfast. There is a round of “aww’s” from everyone as their eyes fall to you. You swallow the lump in your throat giving a fake smile that nobody seems to see through, still foggy with pre-coffee haze.

The room quickly gets busy after breakfast, Amalie and Charlotte arriving first. Some girls are getting their makeup done, others, yourself included, still having their hair done. You have a white silk robe slung over your shoulders, while all the girls have a pistachio coloured one. Each embroidered with cursive font on the back.

Maybe it’s the buzz in the room; the giggles and chatter, that nobody notices you have barely touched your first mimosa. Or maybe they think you are trying to take it easy, not wanting to be that bride. The bride who spends her wedding with her head in a toilet bowl. Or maybe they think you are pregnant, given your track record it’s not an unreasonable assumption.

Maybe it’s the excitement of Kathy walking in absolutely glowing, six months in to her pregnancy. Or maybe it’s Elise who spends most of the day being passed around the room from woman to woman. Even as she naps she never sees her bassinet, someone always free to bounce in her arms.

But if someone had of looked a little closer they would have seen how your nose scrunched up and you gagged taking that first sip of your mimosa. If someone had of listened they would have heard, well they would have heard nothing.

They would have noticed how 90% of your responses have been under five words, or how most of your responses are half smiles with a small nod of the head. If anyone had of watched they would have seen how you haven’t held your daughter in almost 5 hours, how you are the only person not to rub Kathy’s stomach in hopes of feeling a kick.

If they had of paid attention they would have noticed that you are constantly picking your nails. Your knee is anxiously tapping against the floor, so much so you are surprised a hole hasn’t developed.

If anyone had of noticed they would have seen the emptiness behind your eyes as you slowly fade further and further back.

But they don’t.

Or maybe they do. But maybe they think you are just nervous or so excited you are caught in your head. Maybe this is how some brides feel how some act.

Uneasy at the thought of walking down the aisle.

Uneasy at the thought of getting married.

**

“Oh you guys are gorgeous” you say as your bridesmaids walk into your sight in floor length pistachio A-line dresses. The top has a scoop neck with a white lace overlay and a racerback. The bottom is a chiffon skirt complete with white heels and matching earrings. It’s something you gifted them all with as a thank you for standing beside you, being a part of this day with you.

It’s after 2:30 and everyone is getting into their dresses, you the last person. You hand Elise over to Charlotte having just got her into her wedding day outfit. The seamstress did an amazing job and the dress that was too big mere weeks ago fits her perfectly.

Carlee and Allie lead you to an attached room and unzip the bag, both of them gasping at the dress before them. They of course helped pick it out, but they haven’t seen it since then. And there is a pretty big change that nobody including yourself knew about until the first fitting.

“Hey babe” you call out walking into the kitchen setting your purse down on the counter.

“Hey” Fred’s arms wrap around your stomach puling you back against his chest. “How’d it go?” his hand gently rubs over the bump.

“Well bean here decided before my first fitting was the perfect time to pop, so the dress would barely do up around it” you laugh. “My dress fittings going forward will be interesting.”

“I’m sure you still looked gorgeous babe” his warm breath is on the shell of your ear. “Wear track pants for all I care.”

“Funny thing though” you gently rub your hands over his as he hums in response. “It wasn’t the dress I picked out.”

“Hmm that is weird” he mumbles.

“Yeah see I ordered a white dress, the one  I tried on today was blush.”

You pull his hands away and turn gently in his arms. Your hands land on his shoulders and his eyes stare down at you.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” you ask quirking an eyebrow.

“No” he shakes his head. “That is super weird.”

“You sure?” you ask seeing him trying to hide a smirk but he just nods in response.

“When I asked them about it they said my fiancé went in and made the change” you explain. “Two days after I ordered it.”

You stare up at him, your gaze getting firmer. Your arms cross over your chest and you take a step backwards until you hit the counter running out of space. Staring into his eyes he is the first to break with a deep sigh.

“Kay. So the girls came down last month and you all went shopping, and that night I facetimed with you.”

“Mhm” you nod.

“You wouldn’t tell me anything about the dress just that you loved it but I could tell you were holding something back. Well Lucas started screaming and you passed the phone to Carlee for a couple minutes. Well I kept pestering them and finally Allie let it slip that she didn’t think you were 100% happy with it.”

Shaking your head slightly Fred continues on, his eyes softening “she said there was this dress in blush and you loved the colour but not the dress. Then you tried on the dress you bought and loved it but it was in white. They said you could get it in blush, but the customization was an additional $5000 so you said no and decided to go with white. She said you tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal but they could tell you were a little upset. When I got back into town I stopped on my way home. The stylist you had was working and remembered very well how you seemed disappointed. She said it took you over thirty minutes to come out of the dressing room. So I pulled my credit card out and paid for the change then and there.”

“Fred that’s very sweet of you, but I was fine with white” you say softly.

He walks forward and pulls you into his chest before he has the chance to see your face. If he had of waited he might have seen through you, that the problem wasn’t the colour of your dress, something much larger kept you locked in that dressing room. Instead your face is pressed into his chest and he continues on, none the wiser.

“You shouldn’t be fine about your wedding dress. And you know I don’t care about money, the dress even in blush was actually much less than I thought it would be. I just want to make sure this is the wedding of your dreams.”

You should have been thrilled at Fred’s surprise. It should have made you feel like the most special girl in the entire world. That you have a fiancé who is willing to stop at nothing to ensure today is exactly as you dreamed it.

Only thing is this isn’t how you dreamt it. How could you?

Instead of feeling butterflies about seeing Fred you have an overwhelming pit in your stomach. No amount of distractions or mental pep talks making it go away.

Slowly Carlee zips the dress up, working on the couple of buttons of the ball gown. Taking a few uneasy breaths staring at yourself in the mirror, you feel tears prick your eyes, just as Allie attaches the vail to your head.

“You look so beautiful” Carlee squeals fixing some of your hair.

“Thanks babe” you reply taking yourself in. The top is lace and beads, dropping into a low V on the front and back. Below the waist blush coloured tulle falls to your feet, trailing a few feet behind you. It’s not a classic ball gown, lacking the puffiness of a princess dress, but still not having a form fitted bottom.

A part of you was worried about the fit, being pregnant the seamstress only had 10 weeks to make the changes. And during that time your body was constantly changing, adjusting to no longer being pregnant. You had no idea what to expect, and this has been a major stress for you.

Finally ready complete with the earrings Charlotte leant you, the pair she wore on her wedding day. You walk over to the window looking out at the 200 guests who are patiently waiting in your seats, sun shining down on them. The clock quickly approaching 4 and everyone is laughing and chatting amongst themselves, every seat full.

You sigh and sniffle back the tears seeing them.

The two empty seats in the front row.

Walking out to the other room joining your other bridesmaids you notice Charlotte has left. Finding her way to Fred, for him to escort her down the aisle. Only Elise and the five bridesmaids left, all eyes falling on you.

**

“Mommy you look beautiful” you hear your son call. Turning around you see the three of them in matching navy tuxedo’s complete with black bow ties. Fred took you and the kids out a couple months ago to the tailors to pick out the looks for the groomsmen and the boys but you never imagined they would look this adorable.

The dark fabric against his light skin, matching suspenders and hair combed to the side just tugs on your heart strings. A white boutonniere pinned to the outside of his jacket. Fred styled his hair off to the side, his wavy red hair framing his face. You wipe away a stray tear quickly picking him up for a big hug.

“Oh my goodness look at you” you coo pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You are just the most handsome best little man.”

A smile tugs on the edge of his lips and a blush hits his cheeks “thanks mommy.”

“How is daddy doing?” you ask giving him another kiss tickling his side.

“He said I can’t tell you” he giggles making you laugh. You hoped Oliver would divulge some details into how Fred was handling today. If his nerved were getting to him, or if he was calm, like when he is in net on game day.

You wish he hadn’t told him though, you wish Oliver would tell you he is anxious. That he had to pour himself a glass of whiskey to calm down, his leg was tapping anxiously against the wood floor. That he was being pulled in two different directions while trying to play it off. But it appears Fred beat you to the punch, telling your child to stay tight lipped.

“Oh and look at your brothers” you say trying to distract yourself as Mitch stands there, holding each of the twins hands. They have on identical suits to Oliver, hair combed over to the side. “All of you are just so handsome.”

You walk over completely bypassing Mitch and scooping them for a big hug. You press your lips to their foreheads holding your three boys tight. Oliver begins to groan about it being too tight and you release him standing up to be met with Mitch.

“Hey Mitch” you say straightening his bow tie before he wraps his arms around you for a tight hug.

“You look beautiful momma” he says into your ear.

“You look nice too” you smile.

“I look better than nice” he scoffs jokingly. “Is the little lady ready?” he asks looking over to Elise. Wide eyes and smiling in her bassinet dressed in a white dress. It has a lace top and tulle bottom, a large bow tied around it, a white floral headband on her head.

While planning the wedding you tried to find a way to include all of the kids in the day. When you thought you were having a boy you planned on one of the bridesmaids pulling him down the aisle in a wagon. With the surprise of having a girl you switched to a groomsman pulling her down the aisle, and Mitch immediately volunteered to escort her. During the ceremony she will be with Charlotte in the first row but you still wanted to have her be a part of the ceremony.

“Yeah we just have to get her in the wagon” you respond as he walks over picking her up. He grabs a blanket placing it over his crisp suit to protect himself from the potential baby vomit, before pressing her against it. She coos in his arms reaching out to grab his thick brown locks giving them a tight yank.

“Okay” the planner comes into the room scanning around at everyone “Fred is ready and waiting for you.”

“Ready” Carlee comes up wrapping her arms around you for a tight squeeze. You feel yourself tense at the words, fists clenching firmly. Your nails dig harshly into your palms and you take a few uneasy breaths. Unclenching your fists you see the crescent shaped marks you left behind. All day you thought these feelings would go away once it came time to walk down the aisle, but instead bile rises in your throat.

Pulling away she sees some tears in your eyes, your bottom lip beginning to quiver. “Hey don’t cry” she wipes away the tears with her thumbs. Immediately recognizing these aren’t happy tears, they are the tears that often come before a collapse of emotions. Her voice drops to a hushed whisper as her lips find your ear “what’s going on?” she whispers.

She pulls you in tight and an involuntary sob slips from you before you breakdown against her. The room goes quiet only your sobs echoing as her hand tangles into your curls holding you close.

“(Y/N)” she whispers running her other hand up and down your back.

Your chest heaves and you fall apart in her arms “I don’t know if I can do this” you whisper through a deep shuddering breath as Allie comes up to you wrapping her arms around the two of you. Your chest tightens and your breathing gets erratic the room feeling like its crumbling around you.

“What do you mean (Y/N)” they usher you over to the couch your head falling onto Allie’s shoulder, Carlee crouching down in front of you. The silence that fills the air is deafening. You can feel the tension in the room as everyone watches on, waiting to see how everything unfolds.

“You don’t want to marry Fred?” Carlee asks softly squeezing your hands, your body stiffening at her words.

Your eyes stay locked on your feet but you crumble hearing her words, your heart breaking into a million pieces. You become frozen unable to respond, everything around you fading into the background. Taking a deep breath, anxiety brewing low in your gut slowly inching its way up to your surface

You don’t know how long you sit there, your eyes glazed warm tears barreling down your cheeks. Allie gently squeezes your hand and you remain frozen eyes locked on the floor. “What do you need babe? Need to run, we can do that.”

Silence.

Over what feels like the next hour Carlee and Allie try to talk to you. You hear Oliver object while Mitch, Amalie and Sarah usher the kids outside to provide you with privacy. His cries make your stomach churn and your chest tightens but you can do nothing to help calm him down. You barely have control of yourself at this point.

You spend the next ten minutes sobbing against Allie’s shoulder, Carlee constantly dabbing your tears trying to preserve your makeup. You have a tight hold on one of Carlee’s hands and one of Allie’s as they try to encourage you and talk you down. But it’s no use.

Your hands are shaking, blood running cold while the ringing in your ears drowns everything else out. They become inaudible; the only sound you hear is your heart beating through your chest. You feel like you are outside your body watching everything unfold. Stuck in a glass box and no matter how hard you pound your fists against it, it won’t break.

Tears are streaming down your face, and you know nothing will ease them at this point. Biting the inside of your cheek, the taste of copper fills your mouth. Your entire body tenses up “I can’t” you say pushing up from the couch walking away “I can’t do this.”

“(Y/N) you can do this” Carlee says walking up to you.

The blood pounds in your ears. Your heart thudded in your chest. Your hands trembling, feet tingling as you kick your shoes aside. You have to get out. You cry harder, chest growing tighter as bile rises in your throat. Your fists are so tightly bound you expect to draw blood

“No!” you yell stopping her in her tracks “you need to get me out of this.” Turning around to show her the buttons on the back “I can’t breathe you need to get me out of this.”

“Okay okay okay” she fumbles with the buttons, Allie coming to help her. Finally you push it down your body and step out of it standing in just underwear. Immediately you fall to the cool tile floor your dress in a pile a few feet away. Bending your knees and putting your head between them taking a few deep breaths.

You don’t move sitting on the cool floor in your underwear taking deep breaths while your friends silently look on, unsure of what to do next. Seconds feel like minutes, your heart still pounding through your chest. “I need Fred” you whisper so low it’s almost silent.

“What sweetie?” Allie asks your head not lifting from between your legs.

“I need Fred” you repeat and hear her heels click against the floor as the door shuts.

**

“Wow Frederik” your mom calls walking over to you. She grips your face placing a kiss on your cheek “you look so handsome.”

“Thanks ma” you place a kiss on her cheek pulling back slightly “you look great too.”

She smiles wide “ready?” she asks fixing your sleeve. You can see the tears resting behind her eyes, seeing her first born on his wedding day.

“You have no idea” you laugh holding an arm out for her. “I can’t wait to marry her.”

“Well between you and me, she looks absolutely beautiful” Charlotte says kissing your cheek again. You just smile in response, you have no doubt she is going to be breathtaking. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to get through your vows without breaking down.

Her arm links with yours and you begin the walk down the aisle, past the crowd of onlookers. Scanning around you see friends and family on both sides, team mates from all your years in the NHL scattered around.

You don’t spend much time scanning the faces, mostly looking ahead to your awaiting groomsmen. To the altar where you will finally get everything you’ve ever wanted. The squared off altar with soft coloured cloth draping it, white, red and pink roses mingled in it. The large oversized lanterns, soft coloured flowers littering the edge of the aisle, the oval backed brown chairs.

You had no idea this is how it would look. (Y/N) showed you pictures throughout the entire process, but you mostly helped nudge her when she couldn’t pull the trigger. The colour of flowers, the shape of the twinkiling lights, size of the candles. None of them really mattered to you, so you mostly tried to figure out what way (Y/N) was leaning and encouraged her to choose that. She wasn’t always subtle on what option she preferred, but all you need is her standing across from you and nothing else would matter.

But taking in the décor, all you can see is (Y/N). Everything looks amazing, not that you should be surprised. Kissing her cheek she makes her way to her seat and you finally take your spot at the altar beside your groomsmen. Next are the bridesmaids, your kids and then (Y/N).

You shutter just thinking about how in less than thirty minutes she will be your wife. You have the four most amazing kids, and soon this woman you share everything with will be your wife. You thought your family was complete when Elise was born, but today is the final piece to your forever.

“You ready for this” Auston whispers in your ear and you quickly whisper a yes not even bothering to look towards him. Your eyes stay locked down the aisle waiting for them to appear.

Scanning around the crowd you can see the guests getting antsy in their seats. You didn’t go through how long after you arrived at the altar the bridesmaids would start to walk but you are beginning to think it’s taking a little longer than expected.

Shifting awkwardly on your feet you turn to your watch, over twenty minutes late. While being punctual isn’t always her strong suit when dealing with four kids, today is the one day you can’t imagine she will be late.

And that’s when you see her.

Allie.

Quickly making her way down the aisle.

Too quickly.

That’s when it hits you, you shouldn’t be seeing her. It should be Amalie first. And Allie doesn’t look happy, she looks stressed. You swallow the lump in your throat as she comes up to you, turning you so your back is to the crowd.

“You need to come” she whispers in a hushed but assertive tone. “(Y/N)…” she trails off “(Y/N) needs you. Now.”

Your back stiffens at the firmness in her voice. Before she spoke you knew something was wrong, but hearing her tell you that makes you want to fall apart. Instead you turn saying nothing to nobody and head in the wrong direction, back where you came from minutes ago.

Gasps and whispers fill the crowd, your mom trying to reach out for you but you are gone. Long strides propel you down the aisle, once around the corner and away from the guests you take off running. Past Mitch who is bouncing Elise. Past Amalie who is trying to distract the twins. Past Oliver who cries out for you as Kathy holds him so he can’t chase after you.

Opening the door you don’t know what you expect. But it is not (Y/N) naked on the floor, her dress haphazardly thrown in a pile on the floor. Her head between her legs as she takes deep breaths. Her cries the only thing you hear.

Your stomach churns as you watch the site unfold in front of you. Swallowing back the lump in your throat, your heart breaks into a million pieces. Carlee shooting you a soft half smile before wordlessly slipping out around you.

**

You hear his dress shoes click on the polished floor. He can feel the pain rolling off you in waves long before he reaches you. Sighing he slides onto the floor beside you crossing his ankles. He doesn’t say anything, watching your chest heave, listening to your strangled sobs. He glances over at you. You can feel his gaze burning into the side of your head but you refuse to meet his eyes.

Too frozen, too afraid of what you might see. What you have caused. You don’t know how long the two of you sit there, but he doesn’t talk, he doesn’t touch you. He sits. Silently. Uncomfortably, Heart breaking as every second ticks on, but he knows you need time.

Finally your tears begin to subside, the walls pulling back from around you. Your knees bent and arms curled around them you take an uneasy breath mustering the strength to stare at Fred who has yet to move.

Your eyes flick to meet his deep brown orbs, they are glazed over, the tears pricking his eyes yet to fall. He stares down at his feet taking some uneasy exhales waiting to see if his life is about to unravel in front of him. His face is a blanket of panic and fear and it bruises your heart.

You see the pain in his eyes, the pain you caused and you immediately crumble yet again. Your head falls onto his shoulder, the touch startling him. He closes his eyes, focusing on the gentle touch before taking a deep breath. Without thinking he pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tight to his chest, worried this is the last time. That if he lets go he’ll never get to hold you again.

One hand tightly grips your arm his other gently stroking up your cool skin. You continue to sob against his chest, but relax against him. You feel him exhale because you didn’t recoil from his touch. The silence in the room is ominous certainly loaded with meaning.

You don’t know how long you sit on the floor with him “you still want to be with me?” he hesitantly asks. Hearing him say those words breaks you. It’s not the words themselves, it’s the absolute despair and heart break he tries to hide but even still you hear the fracture in his words.

“Do you actually think that?” you whisper.

“Up until five minutes ago I had no doubts at all. Then Allie comes barreling towards me and I find you sitting in your underwear, your dress in a pile on the floor. Now I don’t know what to think.” The strain in his voice trying not to let it crack tears your heart in two and sends warm tears barreling down your cheeks.

You choke on your tears, pulling your eyes up to meet his. The look on his face nearly kills you, inadequacy, rejection, humiliation. The silence hangs thick in the air, a gentle thumb wipes the tears that have stained your cheeks. You smile lightly at his actions. As he sits there waiting to find out if you are about to break his heart he still is putting you and your needs first.

“Is this a Cody situation?” he whispers.

“What?” you say a little too harshly.

“Your ex”

“I know who Cody is Fred” you groan.

“You once told me you didn’t know why but you couldn’t commit to him that something was missing. When the time came for you to decide you couldn’t do it. Is this” he trails off trying to find the strength, but you don’t know if it’s to ask the question or for the answer. “Is this like that?”

“No. I love you Freddie so much” you whisper unsure if you can use your full voice.

“What’s going on babe” he asks softly thumb gently stroking over your cheek. Your bottom lip trembles as you struggle to find the words before you finally choke out“my parents.”

You watch him exhale the breath he has been holding onto for the past few minutes. His shoulders relaxing slightly but he still keeps you tight to him. His arms had never felt better wrapped around you. Holding you safe.

You have had a pit in your stomach for months, but you tried to push it aside. You have known since you were 12 that you had to do this on your own. You weren’t going to call your mom and facetime her minutes after accepting the proposal. Your dad wouldn’t cry when he saw you for the first time in your dress, your mom wouldn’t watch on during the father daughter dance.

You have been telling yourself it’s normal, that these feelings are to be expected but on the actual day you thought excitement would supersede your anxiety. But now you are wrecked with nerves and you just know you can’t do it. You can’t stand at the altar, with two empty chairs in the front row staring back at you. Seats that shouldn’t be empty, seats where your parents should be sitting.

Neither one of you says anything, Fred allowing you to cry against his smooth suit fabric. He feels your body slowly begin to relax, your sobs becoming less strangled but he doesn’t say anything giving your arm a soft squeeze. The soft thudding of his heart helps to slow yours down, calming you down.

“I’m sorry” you say faintly.

“Don’t apologize, I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now” he hums pressing his lips softly to your temple. You melt into his touch and instantly felt all the tension he had been holding escape.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard” you sigh. “I thought I could make it through today, I didn’t expect to feel this way.”

“You didn’t think you’d miss your parents on your wedding day” he laughs lightly.

“I don’t know” you groan. “I thought I would be too busy to think about them, with everything going on. But now all I can think about is them; how they aren’t here.”

“How long has this been going on?” he asks knowing this didn’t start today.

“For a while” you mumble “first happened when I tried on dresses.”

You spent twenty minutes having a breakdown in the dressing room over the fact that your mom wasn’t there. That she didn’t get to be a part of the experience with you. You had long known she wouldn’t be there but that day sitting in the dress you fell apart. You told your friends you spent the time trying on dresses that you instantly knew were no’s and that’s why you were in there for so long. There have been a few times since then, but that was the first moment you truly missed her.

“You want to run” he asks causing you to snort slightly. “We don’t have to get married smuk. We have four kids and two houses. You already are my wife; I don’t need some piece of paper that says that. Just need you.”

“No Fred” you laugh for the first time all day. “I want to marry you, I just…I need a minute to miss my parents.”

“Take all the time you need, I’m not going anywhere” your head falls onto his chest listening to the soft beating of his chest. The light thud against your ear slowly soothes you, and for the first time in a while you feel at ease.

Finally you smile at him “I am so happy I have you.”

He leans forward to gently press his lips to yours. The kiss starts soft and hesitant. A kiss that tastes and feels like home making your arms wrap around him as you sink into the kiss. “I love you” he mumbles against your lips as he captures his breathe before returning his lips to yours.

His hand squeezes your arm tightly as he groans against you tongue sliding back inside your mouth. You run your fingers through his hair gently tousling the curls as the kiss becomes more heated. Fred is the first to pull away breathless, lips covered in your lipstick.

“I’m ready now” you say capturing your breath.

“Sure you don’t need another minute” he smirks pulling your face forward for another heated kiss. His tongue slips inside your mouth, your hand gently raking through his scruffy beard.

“So if it’s bad luck to see each other on the wedding day, what do you think kissing is?” he laughs against your lips.

“Let’s go” you rise to your feet pulling him up. Feet firmly planted on the ground you finally feel grounded. He pulls you back into his chest your arms tangling behind his jacket and he presses one last kiss to your forehead. The two of you stand there for a few minutes before you pull back. “You have lipstick all over your face” you tease.

“You’re naked and late to the ceremony” he quips back. “See you down there babe” he presses his lips back to yours before slipping back out the door.

**

“For years I’ve watched guys stare at their families through the glass, smiling at their wives and doing some pregame ritual with their kids. I never realized just how jealous I was of them until I saw you on the other side.”

You smile at Fred, the gentle breeze blowing through your hair, warm sun shining on you. The pond is your back drop a low chirping of birds and rustling of trees can be heard. Even though you saw Fred not too long ago, walking down the aisle was the first time you managed to take him in. Swathed in smooth navy, his hair slicked back, sun reflecting off his red hair. Everything you could have imagined in life standing a few feet away. Your hands gently resting in his as he recites his vows, you having just finished yours.

“When I saw you there bouncing Oliver in your arms I knew I wanted you there for every game. That I need you to be there every game. Feelings I thought were gone were suddenly awakened seeing you with our son. I knew I could have everything I ever wanted in life all I had to do was yes to love…and get you to agree.”

You roll your eyes and a few members of the wedding party chuckle but he continues on unfazed. “You are so funny and always able to make me laugh. But I don’t love you because you are funny or smart or kind, I love you because you are my best friend. I love how when you smile you get these cute crinkles by the corner of your eyes and the dimples in your cheeks. How when your favourite song comes on you will involuntarily start dancing while you cook dinner or make yourself a tea. That when you are truly happy your face lights up with the purest of radiance.”

You hear some commotion to the side cutting Fred off. You and try to ignore it, Fred clearing his throat when it gets louder. A smirk crosses both your faces glancing to the side to see Noah fussing. Fred opens his mouth but is cut off by a loud shriek followed by a “momma.” In typical fashion Lucas picks up on the fussiness of his twin and begins to squirm joining in the crying.

“They missed their nap today” Fred explains causing everyone to chuckle. Your eyes glance to the side and you see Charlotte and Ernst trying to soothe the two of them before bringing your gaze back to Fred. There is a sparkle in his eye with a wide grin spread across his face as the twins begins to calm down.

Clearing his throat he goes to start again “I can’t imagine my life without you” he starts but is quickly cut off by their cries again.

“One sec” you take a few steps and pull Noah into your arms. As you grab him Lucas is quick to call out “momma” and make an up motion with his fists. Shaking your head you pull him on to your other hip bouncing the two of them they begin to calm down as you return to Freddie. He quickly pulls Lucas from you, his head falling onto his dad’s shoulder relaxing against him.

Placing a quick kiss on his forehead and brushing some of Noah’s stray hairs he curls up on against you. “Okay ready” you smile taking your one free hand to grip his.

“I love that you are an amazing mother” he laughs bringing a hand up to Noah’s cheek brushing away the few tears that fell. “You are a fierce protective mother, and always put the kids first. Almost to a fault sometimes” he glances towards the boys who are standing up at the altar with you, not with their grandparents a few feet away. A large smile spreads across your face but you don’t care. The past few years your lives have been centered around being a family, and having them up there with you for this feels right.

“I had no idea when I met you that you were going to implode my life, but in the most amazing way possible. But now I can’t imagine a day without you. Standing here with you there isn’t a single thing I would change because it all led me to this point. I only went out for a drink and I got a whole lot more than I bargained for.”

He turns his attention to Lucas and places a soft kiss on his forehead. He has since calmed down and is resting against Fred, his eyes getting heavy. Turning back to you he smiles as Noah sleeps against your shoulder and chuckles. “Can’t believe all this happened because two people got drunk.”

“Geez” you laugh rolling your eyes as a few of the guest’s chuckle in response.

“(Y/N)” the officiant says “repeat after me. I, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), take you Frederik, to be my husband. I promise I will be faithful to you and honest with you; I will respect, trust, help, and care for you. I will continue to share my life with you and build our dreams together. I will love you and honour you, and be by your side for the good and the bad times, as long as we live.”

Taking a deep breath you smile at the man standing in front of you. One arm is holding your tired son, the other is holding onto Fred’s free hand “Jeg (Y/N) (Y/L/N) tager dig Frederik. at være min mand.”

He takes a deep sigh hearing you repeat the words back in Danish. It’s something you have been planning and working towards over the last couple months, trying to embrace this part of his life, your children’s life. Charlotte was eager to help you while she was visiting and you have been working on it since then. You sat down with her a few nights ago to repeat it one more time and she told you it was perfect. That you finally got the few words you have been struggling to pronounce.

“Jeg lover, at jeg vil være tro mod dig og være ærlig over for dig; Jeg vil respektere, stole på, hjælpe og passe på dig. Jeg vil fortsætte med at dele mit liv med dig og bygge vores drømme sammen. Jeg vil elske dig og ære dig og være ved din side til gode og dårlige tider, så længe vi lever.”

As soon as you finish he steps forward and his lips gently brushing against yours. It’s a soft and brief kiss but his hand lands on your hip to keep you close. His tongue traces along your lip, as your mouth opens. Before he can slide his tongue in you hear laughter from the guests. But it’s Oliver announcing “daddy is kissing mommy” that makes you laugh into the kiss and pull away.

“You’re ridiculous” you mumble softly and Fred just shrugs it off smiling wide to you.

**

Your hand trembles slightly sliding the ring on his finger, partially from the excitement that he is now your husband, but also because it’s slightly more difficult with a baby sleeping in your arms. Once it’s finally on his finger he laces his hands with yours and takes a step closer, minimizing the gap. His eyes drop to your lips, but this time he waits for the minister to tell him to kiss you. He glances slightly to his right before back to you, his tongue licking his lips slightly.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss your wife...again”

Before he even gets the words out Fred ducks down to bring you in for a kiss. Unlike the last one this is full of passion and heat. He slides his tongue in swiping across the inside of your cheek while his free hand finds the small of your back. You groan into the kiss bringing your free hand up to his beard. Your tongues continue to fight for dominance, and you begin to feel heat hit your cheeks.

You never imagined your wedding day kiss would be so heated. Thinking of all the people staring you chuckle lightly and pull away from him, foreheads still touching. Fred has a wide smile as he closes the gap once again, this time for a soft and brief kiss.

**

Everyone has wide grins on their faces, laughter filling the room around you. Multiple conversations are happening at every table, Fred chatting with Auston and Mitch while you are sitting, watching people enjoy themselves and having an amazing time. Fred’s chair is right beside yours, one hand resting on the tulle that covers your bottom half, a glass of whiskey in his other hand. Scanning around the room you smile taking in your friends and family, alcohol and laughter coursing through them.

Suddenly you hear a shriek and look out to see Lucas with orange juice staining his white shirt. Charlotte is quickly making work with some napkins to try and clean him, but you know it’s no use, the stain unlikely to come out.

“It’s not a big deal” Fred says into your ear.

“I don’t care" you smile turning your attention to Fred.

“You don’t care?” he repeats almost baffled.

“Why would I?” you move closer and breathe in his cologne, your hand landing on his thigh. “We have kids, they spill things, besides that shirt won’t fit him in a couple months anyways. And I’m married to the most amazing man, we have the most amazing kids. All of our friends and family are here, nothing else matters.”

“Almost everyone” he corrects brushing his lips to your temple. “What would they be doing if they were here?”

Taking a sigh you turn to him with a tear lining your eye. “Dad would always have a beer in his hand, walking around talking to everyone. Be the life of the party, laughing with anyone because if he didn’t he’d break down over his daughter getting married.”

“And your mom" he laughs taking a small sip of whiskey.

“She would always have one of the kids in her hands. You wouldn’t see her once without them. She’d hold Ollie and be out on the dance floor with him, rocking E to sleep, and constantly be playing with the twins to get them to laugh. She’d probably miss the cake cutting or a speech so encapsulated with them.

The only thing she wouldn’t miss is the father daughter dance. She’d watch the whole thing tears rolling down her cheeks.” You laugh slightly pulling back some tears.

“They would have loved you” you turn to Fred smiling.

“Yeah? The guy who got their daughter drunk and pregnant after one night?” he laughs.

“Well maybe not at first” you chuckle. “Dad would have hated you then, been an absolute dick to you. Even once we started dating he still would have been short with you, my mom would have had to talk to him. He reluctantly would have invited you golfing to appease both of us but he’d make it known he was only doing this for us and he wasn’t going to have a good time. Then he would see what I see and the two of you would become best friends.

He’d always have your favourite whiskey in the bar, ready and waiting for you. He’d go golfing and play tennis with you on weekends, tell you that you are barbequing wrong“ you say laughing lightly.

“Wish I got to meet them elskede" his lips gently brush against yours.

“Me too" you turn back to the scene unfolding, curling into his chest as his arm wraps around your shoulder. “Me too.”

**

“Oh my god that is just the cutest thing ever” Steph says staring onto the dance floor. Turning your attention over you see a few couple scattered around dancing before finding what she is talking about. Fred holding your daughter against his chest and you see his lips moving, him whispering to her as she sleeps in his arm, moving with the beat of the song.

You grin wide looking out, leaning against the bar behind you “I know he makes my ovaries explode” you groan as you feel of wetness go straight to your core.

“Watch it or you’ll make baby number five” she adds and you through your head back laughing.

“No, there will be no baby number five” you laugh. “But when he does shit like that it becomes hard for me to not want another.”

“Just wait until he sees your lingerie later he’ll be saying the same thing” Steph smirks winking at you.

Groaning you turn around to face the bar to order a drink while you continue to talk to her. The lights brighten slightly and you hear the DJ say something about a change of pace before feeling the bass vibrate under your feet.

“What are you ladies talking about” Fred asks as you turn around to find him, Auston and Mitch joining you by the bar.

“You guys having baby number 5” Steph teases and Fred chokes on his drink while Auston’s eyes go wide.

“Oh my god I said there will be no baby number 5” you laugh as Fred pulls you into his side, relaxing his grip. “We were actually talking about your girlfriend Maddie” you look to Auston.

The two of them have barely been dating for 6 months; Fred told you he is actually crazy about her, never having seen him like this with a girl. He told you Auston deleted all his dating apps and hookups phones numbers within weeks of meeting her and Fred thinks she could be someone serious for him.

He waited a bit to introduce her to the team and bring her to a game. She is a little more reserved and he didn’t want to overwhelm her with this part of his life, but this is the first time she has been around a large group of players at once.

“Wondering when it will be your wedding” you deflect some of the attention off you and onto him. His cheeks heat up and he shifts on his feet with a smirk on his face.

“It’s a little soon for that” he says softly but a part of you doesn’t believe it. He has basically been attached to her all day, constantly pulling her onto the dance floor, hand resting on the small of her back.

“Stop teasing him, he’s in love” Mitch teases.

“Fucking hate you guys” he mumbles.

“Elise and the twins are heading to bed, Ollie says he hasn’t had cake yet so he won’t go” Fred whispers in your ear. He grips your hand and pulls you over to the kids to say goodnight and goodbye, not seeing them until you return from the honeymoon.

**

“I don’t know if I’ve told you today, but you are absolutely breathtaking” he murmurs in your ear pulling you back against his chest. You just spent the last few minutes with Oliver spinning him on the dance floor, his laughter almost louder than the music. The lights have been dimmed; mostly it’s the warm glow from the twinkling lights and candles illuminating the space.

“You might have mentioned it once or twice” you turn your head to glance at him.

“Once or twice” he presses his lips to your temple “I need to up my game.”

Leaning back your head rests against his chest watching Oliver lead Mitch to the treat table to grab another cupcake. “You know for someone who never stopped pestering me about her wedding band, you haven’t even looked at it.”

“Oh” you realize. “I guess nothing really matters except the fact that I’m married to you” you smile.

You raise your hand and turn your attention to examine the rose gold band resting around your finger. There are multiple tiny diamonds evenly spaced around the band, shimmering back at you in the light.

“Oh it’s beautiful” you gasp examining the band, spinning it on your finger. Something about it looks familiar but you can’t place it.

“Mhm” he hums. “Recognize it?”

You stop fidgeting the ring and try to think of the one Charlotte has, maybe he had one designed to be similar to it. But her band is gold, and doesn’t have the number of stones placed on it. And you know it isn’t your grandmothers. Her wedding band is the one her mother managed to keep hidden during WWII, it’s a simple gold band with one small stone. But somehow this ring feels very familiar.

After a few minutes you finally sigh and turn your head back to look at him. There is a few beads of sweat in his hair line, only wearing his dress shirt having discarded everything else a while ago due to the heat. The top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, his chain visible on his hard chest.

“No I don’t” you say eyes trained on his.

“It was your moms” he says softly and you feel tears hit the back of your eyes threatening to spill out.

“What?” you choke out turning around in his embrace.

“Your grandmother offered it to me the day I asked them for permission” he explains, hands resting on the small of your back. You bring your hand back up into your view as you other tangles around his back, grabbing a chunk of his fabric.

“You’re dad had good taste” he says leaning down to press his lips to your forehead and a few stray tears start to roll down your cheeks.

“I can’t believe you-“ you choke on your tears sniffling against him. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“Seriously? I was so happy when she offered it to me There was no way I wasn’t going to give you this ring. ” He gently brings a hand to yours lacing his fingers with yours and gently spins the band around your finger with his thumb.

“I wish they were here babe but this ring is a part of them. It represents their love, their marriage and their family. I can’t think of a better wedding band for my wife. Every time you look at it you will think of me and my love for you but also the love they shared.”

Your tears continue to fall as he tightens his arms around you. A slow song has begun to play and he slowly rocks the two of you to the beat, holding both of your hands against his chest. He hums the tune, his lips gently pressed against your forehead.

Standing tangled in his arms you have never felt so at ease. You realize that as long as you have Fred, you have everything you will ever need. Everything in life will be okay, and even if it isn’t somehow everything will sort itself out.

**

“Why don’t you put me down” you giggle as Fred struggles with the key. It’s not a typical key card it is an actual key and he is fumbling to unlock the door while your arms are wrapped around his neck.

“It’s our wedding night, I’m going to carry you over the threshold” he mumbles finally getting the key in.

“So traditional” you smirk pressing your lips to his neck, sucking soft marks under the collar of his shirt. His bow tie was long discarded and top couple buttons released.

“Be a lot easier if you weren’t distracting me” he groans as you gently nip his skin. You chuckle lightly hearing the door unlock as the heavy wood frame creaks open. Stepping inside he kicks his shoes off and the door softly closes behind him. He carries you into the living room of the honey moon suite and you pull back turning your head.

The low flickering of the candles on every surface capturing your eye. Next you see the countless bouquets of flowers, your favourite flowers, scattered around the room. He lets you take it in for a few minutes before bringing you into the bedroom. There is a selection of chocolate covered strawberries and other fruit with champagne waiting on the dresser. A rose petal heart on the bed and he quickly drops you on it, petals scattering around the white duvet.

“You do all this?” you ask softly.

“It’s the honey moon suite babe, I think they just do this” he smirks.

“Uh-huh. And the flowers? They just knew these are my favourite and brought in easily a dozen bouquets.”

“Thirty one” he corrects crawling over to you. “They did the candles, champagne and stuff but I may have called the florist last week about the flowers. For the record they would like more than a weeks’ notice to fulfill this along with the wedding bouquets, centre pieces and everything else. Might have paid a lot for these” he smirks “but you’re worth it.”

“One bouquet wasn’t enough?”

“Nope” he grins as a hand finds the back of your neck pulling you towards him. His lips brush against yours hooking an arm around your back he slowly drops you to the bed, hovering over you he closes the gap with a wide grin on his lips. You moan against him, tongue tracing along his lower lip your hands find his dress shirt grabbing a fist full of fabric. His jacket and vest being long discarded.

Your hand moves to the front of his shirt, giving it a tug to free it from his dress pants. “Someone’s eager” he groans as your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, slowly releasing them.

“I’m just excited to have sex with my husband” you grin emphasizing the word.

“Husband” he smirks against your lips “I like that.”

He pulls away rising to his knees and takes over the buttons of his shirt. He slowly pops the buttons revealing more skin, your eyes wandering over his bare chest. Dragging the fabric off his arms he discards it in a pile in the corner. Next his belt clanks against the wood floor, and he is off the bed. He pushes his pants down his legs tossing them in the pile of clothes, leaving him in just boxers.

Your eyes rake over his body, taking in every curve of his muscle. Taking a deep breaths your hips voluntarily arch up towards him. He grips your wrist pulling you onto your feet and spins you around “This dress looks amazing on you" he hums in your ear.

“Believe it or not it looks better off" you moan.

“Oh baby I know it does" his hands gently rub up and down your arms. His mouth is gently nipping the skin on your neck, his words sending an electric current straight to your core. His large fingers not in a hurry, slowly popping the button. You feel him fumble around your back struggling to undo the small buttons before dragging the zipper down your back.

His hands find your shoulders, gently pressing the straps down your skin but you step away from him. “I have something” you explain walking to the bags in the corner.

You pull out a small bag and Fred immediately knows what is waiting underneath the white tissue. “Save that for tomorrow” he pulls the handle from you dropping it on the floor.

“But I bought it for tonight” you whine.

“Baby I know you are going to look phenomenal in whatever lingerie is in that bag. But honestly I don’t want to wait for you to get changed only to have to take it off two minutes later, that’s two minutes of me not fucking you.”

He ducks his head down, warm air ghosting over your neck “and baby all I want to do tonight is fuck my wife.”

Hearing him call you that almost makes your knees buckle, heat rapidly building in your core. You too want nothing more than to feel his cock stretching you out. “I’m wearing it tomorrow night” you command.

“Look forward to it” his fingers return to your shoulders pressing the fabric down your body. A mess of blush tulle landing at your feet and you step out of it. Fred bends down to grip the back of your legs but you stop him picking up your dress to hang on the back of a chair “it’s expensive “ you shrug.

Once in front of him you push him backwards until his knees hit the bed and he slowly falls back. You drop to your knees in front of his quirking an eyebrow while your fingers toy with his elastic band. You can see the large bulge tenting his boxers making a fire ignite in your core. As you pull the fabric down he lifts his hips slightly his thick member slapping against his stomach.

Your moth waters staring at his throbbing cock, precum dripping form the tip. “Fuck” he groans as your lips wrap around him, tongue cleaning the sticky liquid from his tip.

Your tongue swipes up the vein on the underside of his shaft and his eyes practically roll into the back of his head. Soon you begin bobbing on him taking more and more each time, your hands gently stroking up his thighs.

You swirl your tongue around him, your nose pressing into his pelvis. Your eyes stay locked on his, watching as his snap shut and he takes a few uneasy breaths. Digging your freshly manicured nails into his thigh his hips buck up, tip resting against the back of your throat.

“Babe” he whispers, unable to use his full voice. Although quiet you hear but you don’t stop continuing to bob up and down on his long member.

“Fuck (Y/N)” he says more firmly as one hand begins to gently massage his balls. “You can’t do that.”

He pushes you off him, saliva dribbling down your chin and a pout crossing your face.

“Why?” you pout “I want to suck my husband’s dick.”

He swallows hard at your bluntness, eye lids fluttering. You shoot him an innocent look, squeezing your breasts together between your arms and batting your eyelids to him. Shaking his head he grips your wrist and pulls you harshly onto the bed.

You land hard on the mattress and he quickly rolls over you spreading your knees with his thick thigh. He manipulates you to raise your hips, pulling the remaining piece of fabric, thin white lace, down your legs. “Because baby I want to do this.”

You gasp loudly as two of his fingers find your folds, gently playing with your entrance. He moans feeling how wet you are, wet and full of need, waiting for him. You smile against his touch and his lips gently press into your temple.

“You’re soaked eh” he smirks sliding his two fingers over your heat, coating them in your juices. Before you can respond they part your folds and sink in. His thumb presses into your clit while his fingers begin to fuck in and out of you at a slowly building pace.

“Fred” your entire body squirms at the feeling and you hear a quiet dark chuckle against your neck. His mouth begins to place warm open mouth kisses all over your neck and chest, before finding your breasts. He licks over the orb before sliding his tongue between the valley of them before sucking on your nipple. You slide your hands over his bicep, your feather like touch making his fingers curl into your G-spot.

“I’m gonna cum” you warn feeling the slow build low in your stomach.

“That’s the whole point” he smirks increasing his pace.

“Not fair” you whine at the fact you couldn’t take him to completion but he isn’t going to stop until you do.

“Want me to stop?” he teases popping his head up to look into your eyes.

Your nails dig into his shoulders, your lower lip being pulled through your teeth. In an attempt to answer you only muster a need filled whimper and he just quirks an eyebrow in response continuing to pump his fingers in and out of you, thumb pressing harshly into your clit.

“Good” his lips land on your cheek before finding your collarbone. He nips the skin, dragging his tongue along you “this is my favourite part” he muses.

You tilt your head slightly and he pulls back, dark brown eyes finding yours. He gives you a wink and the coil in your stomach is now tightly bound. A few final thrusts, you chanting his name through breathless pants and it snaps. Pure euphoria floods your veins, toes curling as he slows slightly to draw out your orgasm.

He groans when your nails anchor hard into his back but doesn’t stop, working you through it as warmth spills down his wrist. You’re vision begins to clear, the orgasmic haze lifting. Finally he stops keeping his fingers buried deep inside you but allows your fog to settle.

“I’m so happy I get to do this every day” his lips press to the corner of your mouth “make you fall apart on my fingers,” he places a soft kiss to your jaw slowly takes his finger out of your slick heat. “With my tongue,” he moves to suck on your earlobe and you whimper slightly.

He shifts his weight and his hard member pokes at your entrance. His voice is low and husky and he only pulls away briefly “or around my cock.” A loud gasp tumbles through your lips as he easily slides inside your walls, your juices providing an easy lubricant.

Slowly pulling back he brings his lips to your ears. “The best part though” he growls in your ear “I get to do it with my wife.” His hips snap hitting your cervix in conjunction with his words. Foreheads pressed together and lips ghosting over yours as he begins to rock into you.

A loud groan falls from your lips, they vibrate in your core and your nails scrape along his back, harshly digging into his skin. He adopts a slow and steady rhythm, hitting you deep with each thrust before dragging himself out to do it again. His head drops and he places a soft kiss against your lips. Along your jaw. On your neck. On your breasts.

His mouth is everywhere and you are turning into a mess under him.

Neither of you are in a hurry, relishing in the feeling. It’s not a new experience, you under him, leg wrapped around his waist as he loves you. But tonight it’s different.

Your first time married.

 First time with your husband.

 And because of that it hits different.

 Your hands snake around his neck, tilting his head to pull him closer. His mouth quickly finds yours while you roll your hips up to meet his. He groans at your movements continuing to drive into you a hand finding your breast. He begins to gently massage your orb, rolling the nipple through his fingers his tongue swiping inside your cheeks.

You whimper into his mouth and he buries his hips against yours in response. Each thrust is deep and calculated, as he slowly drags his cock back. He almost pulls out completely but drops back into you, his tip pressing against your cervix.

He has you right where he wants you, teetering on the edge. Your heel digs into his back and you feel his lips curl upwards against you “let go for me baby” he mumbles before bringing you back in for a heated and sloppy kiss.

Soon he pulls back slightly, lips hovering above yours. Grunts and moans fill the room as you both approach your highs.

“Gå videre baby slip. jeg har dig” he coos in your ear (go ahead baby, I got you). Almost if on cue your second orgasm crashes over you. Still reeling from your first it’s intense and your entire body erupts with tiny flames. Limbs are tingling, incoherent sounds spilling from your lips.

He continues to mumble into your ear but you can’t focus on anything. His deep voice fades into the background as you shudder under him. Upon feeling your walls flutter around him Fred begins to feel his release. Giving you a final few thrusts he spills coating your insides with everything he has.

He collapses on you, his head landing on your shoulder. Coming down from your high you can feel some warm cum spilling around his cock and down the inside of your thighs. But the two of you continue to lay there, your fingers gently playing with his hair.

Finally the two of you have partially recaptured your breaths and he pushes himself off of you. Sweat is dripping from his roots glistening on his forehead but instead of pulling away me mumbles into the crook of your neck peppering kisses along your collarbone.

“I love you so much” he smiles. “My wife.”

**

“That’s a lot of food for the two of us" you laugh as Fred wheels the tray of food to beside the bed. There are plates of bacon and hash browns, scrambled eggs, a gigantic tower of pancakes and a few bowls of fruit.

You take one of the cups of coffee bringing it your lips, the faint hazelnut smell filling the air around you. Before you can take a sip there is a knock on the door.

With a soft grin he presses his lips to your temple and walks away. You sit silently trying to guess who is at the door when suddenly you hear the light pitter patter of Oliver’s feet followed by one of the twins light squeal.

You set your cup down just in time for Oliver to jump on the bed and wrap his arms around your neck as he tells you about his sleepover with Amalie last night. You help Lucas onto the bed when Fred rounds the corner with Noah and Elise tight to his chest. He quickly drops Noah onto your legs.

“My babies" you laugh pulling all three boys in for kisses on their cheeks. Fred sets Elise in the middle of the bed and begins cutting some food for the kids.

“What are you doing here?” you ask tickling Oliver. He squeals with excitement unable to capture his breath.

“We’re having breakfast” Ollie laughs.

“Figured you’d want to see them for a few hours before I whisk you away on our honeymoon. Get in some last minute snuggles" Fred explains as you release your toddler so he can take his breakfast from his dad.

Noah curls into your lap and you rest your chin on his head, holding him tight against your chest. Before you can reply Lucas climbs in beside him and you wrap your other arm around him.

“This is perfect” you say as Noah begins to whine, Lucas invading his space. Elise begins to cry and Oliver is talking a mile a minute about all the fun he had last night.

“This is perfect" Fred jokes setting the plate of food for the twins down and grabbing Elise to try and soothe her. “I can barely hear myself think" he laughs kissing her forehead bouncing her in his arms “it’s chaos.”

“Yeah but it’s our chaos” you smile pressing a soft kiss on both of your twins foreheads.

***

“(Y/N)” you hear Fred softly call out to you. “Were almost there.”

His lips press against your cheek and your eyes slowly flutter open. Reaching out he grasps your hand and helps you sit while you reach out to stretch.

You have no idea how long you’ve been on the plane, having fallen asleep but you are happy to know you will soon be getting off and can properly stretch your legs. You tried to get Fred to tell you where you’re going about twenty times, but he refused any information, not even giving you hints.

“Where are we" you push the blanket off your body as the seat rises back up. Taking the blanket from you he reaches over to grab the sun shade from the window and pulls it up “take a look.”

Excitement washes over you and you eagerly turn your head to look out. You blink a few times unsure if it’s from the sunlight flooding in, or if it’s shock unsure you are actually seeing the skyline through the glass.

“You didn’t” you gasp.

“Mhm" he hums pressing his chest against your back. Warm lips hit your neck for a soft kiss before he pulls back lips ghosting over your ear “you always said you wanted to go here, seemed like the perfect time to do it.”

You manage to pry your eyes and turn your face slightly to meet him “I can’t believe you did this" you say softly. His lips gently brush against yours “I’d do anything for my wife.”

***

Authors Note:  This is the final chapter of this series, I hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading it, this story started as the first thing i ever wrote. And it slowly evolved into something. 

I wish I could commit to keeping it going but I have been struggling with the story the last few chapters (I always had the plan it was the getting pen to paper). So that is why I decided to end it, my original outline only had 31 chapters though so I’m glad I was able to expand on it.