#when the three of us are together the boys squish me into the middle so I'd always have to climb over one

[kaciidubs]

Cuteness Aggression

❣ Summary: Jeongin really brings out the cuteness aggression in people. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 915 ❣ Warnings: Poly!OT8 implied - Jeongin, Felix, and Hyunjin focused, fluff, slice of life, lighthearted teasing, slightly suggestive toward the end if you squint ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Jeongin is referred to as Innie, IN-ah, Baby Bread, and Baby, Felix is referred to as pretty boy, Hyunjin is referred to as Hyune, Reader is referred to as Noona and Sunflower, something short to break myself out of this writing slump ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“IN-ah!”

“No!”

“Baby bread!”

“Ah- Stop!”

“Our Innie!”

“Stop it! Noona!”

You sighed at the sound of various footsteps advancing toward the kitchen and effectively bursting your bubble of attempting to figure out what to make for lunch.

It wasn’t long until the once empty kitchen was filled with three men, one of whom b-lining it straight for you.

“Noona, tell them to stop!” Jeongin whined, turning you away from the cabinets and attaching himself to your back like a koala, hand wrapping around your middle for further protection.

“Innie, I would love to, but I don’t even know what’s going on.” Patting his forearm lightly, you peered at the two culprits in front of you, “What’s happening here?”

“They won’t leave me alone!”

“We’re not even doing anything,” Felix beamed, though the mischief twinkling in his eyes said otherwise, “we’re just saying how cute he is!”

Hyunjin hummed along, a teasing smirk on his lips, “Our cute little baby!”

“You’re being annoying!” Huffing, Jeongin tightened his arms around you, “Felix keeps pinching my face and Hyunjin Hyung won’t stop invading my personal space - he even sniffed me!”

“It’s not my fault you smell good, you should take it as a compliment, IN-ah.”

The youngest gasped incredulously, “Oh, really? And you trying to crush me with your body weight is a compliment too?”

“Exactly! See, you’re finally catching on!”

“You’re so-”

“Okay, okay, can we not yell at each other while I’m being used as a human shield?” Quieting your lovers, you stared at the shameless duo before you, “Can you two please give Innie his space? I’m sure he knows how much you love him without being coddled all the time.”

“But look at him!” Felix gestured to the man behind you, lips pouted and pleading, “Sunshine, he’s too cute to be left alone - you know that feeling you get when you see something so adorable you can’t help but react?”

Everything suddenly clicked, and you pressed your lips together to suppress the laugh bubbling up within you.

“So… You’re telling me this is all because of cuteness aggression?”

“Yes! You see it, too, right?!” Hyunjin’s eyes sparkled as he threw his hands up, “So it’s obviously not my fault for wanting to squeeze him until he pops!”

“I mean…” Trailing off, you caught a glimpse of Jeongin’s doughy cheek and you felt a familiar swell of adoration and couldn’t help but smirk, “You’re not wrong, Hyune.”

“Noona?!” He all but wailed, his hold on you loosening, “You’re seriously taking their side? What about me?!”

You turned in his arms with a laugh, taking his face in your hands as you cooed, “No! Of course I’m on your side, baby, but…” Giving his face a squeeze, you felt a rush of joy at his squished, adorable features, “God- You’re just too cute for your own good, Innie! Look at you - I just wanna take a bite out of you like the little mochi you are!”

Leveling you with a nonplussed stare, he accepted his fate as Felix and Hyunjin quickly joined in with coos and pets of their own, a cherry blush turning his ears and cheeks at the influx of attention.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you hummed, relinquishing the squeeze of his face for a gentle hold of his jaw, “we do it because we love you, you know that, right? If you really do hate it, we have no problem with stopping, right?”

“Of course not!” Felix tacked on easily, brushing a few strands of honey brown hair behind Jeongin’s ear.

Hyunjin nuzzled his face against the side of his head, earning a groan of disdain in the process, “You know we would stop, Innie, just let us know.”

The maknae couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips, huffing out a deep sigh, “It’s not that bad I guess… But I still don’t like the fact that you took their side, Noona.”

“Aw,” pouting up at him, you leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips, “I’ll make it up to you-” Clocking the glimmer in his eyes, you held your finger up, “-after I figure out what to eat, okay? You guys did come in here and ruin my train of thought.”

There was a gasp of excitement before the freckled blond looked at you, “Are you ordering out? There’s a new restaurant I’ve been dying to try since last week, and their menu looks amazing - I’ll buy!”

You grinned, nodding happily, “Alright, let’s see that menu, pretty boy.”

As he brought up the restaurant on his phone - with an equally eager Hyunjin now hanging around his shoulders - you turned your attention back to the man still in your hold, his body visibly relaxed with the decrease of hands on him.

His gaze was soft, observant as it switched from his boyfriends to you, a light caress of confusion tainting his features once he caught your awe-filled eyes. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing… You just have a real talent for being too adorable for your own good - even when you’re doing literally nothing.” Poking his nose, you shrugged lightly, “I can see why none of us can keep our hands off of you.”

Jeongin blinked at you for a moment before nodding in understanding, “Okay, I get it,” tightening his arms around your waist, a smug smirk pulled at his lips, “but when I get the same feeling from you, remember where I got it from when I’m all over you.”

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @s00buwu, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89, @main-character0, @vampcharxter, @ddyskz, @prettymiye0n, @bbgnyx, @ivyisnotokay, @bahng-chrizz, @milknhoneyracha, @hann1bee, @palindrome969, @newhope8, @softkissfelix, @luvyev, @luminouskalopsia, @kpopsstuffs, @luvyev, @starquokka, @wolfs-howling, @broken-glowsticks, @j-onedrabbles, @dawninnie, @junglyric, @piercedddriver, @sometimesleeknows, @laylasbunbunny, @dwaekkistar, @zaethefangirl

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[risuola]

▶ COCOONED — one of those lazy mornings when you wake up trapped in a tangle of hands and legs.

contents: college+roommates!au, fluff — wc. 655

a/n: very short one, i'm still painting a little background to the friendship dynamics of our trio, but I wanna take this opportunity to thank you guys for supporting this little story I'm building here and also I wanna encourage you to help me out with it! if you have any ideas for entries, please let me know through ask box!

𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist

Taking care of your friends came easy for you. You were always like this, affectionate and protective. It was a way of showing love, through those subtle acts of tenderness and both Satoru and Suguru always thanked you for it, despite occasional teasing from their side. They were grateful for your selfless and kindhearted nature, just as you were grateful for the boundless protection you were granted ever since you got to know them. Any bully you ever stumbled upon quickly turned tail when met with the sight of your two guardians – always taller than others, always stronger and very ready to resolve issues (in more or less civilized ways).

It wasn’t a surprise that living together brought you even closer than before. It became a routine for you to help Satoru with his eyedrops first thing in the morning – because the boy has eyes of an angel but needs to protect them from harsh sunlight and environment. Then, you always make sure that a jar of Suguru’s favorite candy is full for him, so that he can pop one right after he takes his daily medicine – the one that he swears tastes like a rug somebody used to wipe up shit and vomit. They, on the other hand, never fail to help you at home or bring you sweets from the store.

One thing you were slightly uncertain about at the beginning of the one-bedroom journey was sleeping with them. You wondered if one day you’ll wake up to a black eye because of some random muscle twitch of either of them or they’ll squish you in the middle of the bed because of course you slept between them, but none of those things happened and it’s been months already. What took place, on the other hand, was evolvement of your friendship to a much more touchy one. It always came natural to you three to cuddle; you never minded their hands on your waist or legs and they never complained about you draping over them, but in one bed, it became much more intense. A progression of friendly intimacy that all three of you grew to love. A comfortable tangle of bodies that became a safe space to you and the boys, something that happened naturally and you wouldn’t have it any other way. And they wouldn’t change it either, but–

“Satoruu–! Suguuu–”

–but there were mornings like this one. You woke up trapped in a death grip of both boys, stuck against Suguru’s muscular chest and with Satoru’s strong arm wrapped around you. The white-haired head was nuzzled against your shoulder blades and as you tried to loosen up the cocoon, you ended up twisting your upper body unnaturally while your legs stayed lodged between four, much larger male ones. Your butt was pressed against Gojo’s stomach and his hand was resting below your ribs, long gone underneath the fabric of your stolen t-shirt. Long, black hair was tickling your face whenever you tried to move away from brunette’s bare pecks. Immobilized and resigned, you let out a deep exhale.

Thanks god it’s Sunday and you have nowhere to be – otherwise you’d be very late, as none of your friends seemed to be bothered by the sound of your voice calling them.

“Get back to sleep,” Toru mumbled sleepily against your back and somehow pulled you even closer to his chest and you could tell that as soon as he finished speaking, he was back in his slumber. His muffled voice did something to Suguru though, because the man hummed lowly, a sound akin to a purr. You felt his lips pressing to the top of your head and he was gone too, with his large hand resting on your hip and his bicep underneath your cheek. Helpless and surrendered, you tweaked your position to get comfortable and allowed your eyelids to drop, slowly succumbing back into the dreamland.

taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu

[deadqueerboys]

I’ve GYATT to have some transman pre-t reader x Wilbur . Sub reader and dom Wilbur btw with a pinch of exhibitionism

HEY ANNON!!

★ TALK TO ME ON TWT OR CURIOUSCAT ★

Guys, I love transmasc requests 😭😭

Lately, M/n's boyfriend has been driving him crazy. He hasn't been gentle in a while, only acting rough and distant but also so close and needy while humping into him. Even with that, he used to stop the make-out season's just to smirk and walk away. Wilbur is such a bratty dom, but M/n can do worse. M/n can be a bratty bottom if that's what will drive him mad too.

Well, they've been walking around the whole shopping with absolutely nothing to do. The day was so fucking boring and neither plans were going well. M/n smirks every time he cans, looking wildly at Wilbur's crotch kr lips, which got him blushing at first times, but now he got used to it. M/n also sucks his juice's straw, making it slowly and keeping his mouth wet. It was frustrating how good Wilbur was at ignore this. Right now there's no other choice, M/n's already wet and his pussy is squirming with Wilbur's hands around his waist and his fingers inside his tight pussy. In the middle of the masculine bathroom, the one that they both always go together so nobody harass M/n anyway. The one they love to fuck inside of the small cabin.

Wilbur is needy and ready to give him just enough and walk away again, he needs to control himself before cumming of all that sexual tension that he built himself. He buries his face on M/n's neck and sighs there, the warm breath making M/n even more horny than before.

"Don't you dare leave me alone after this.." M/n whimpers, his pussy dripping around Wilbur's fingers as they fuck quietly - or maybe not that quietly. He moans and bites his lips when Wilbur puts even one more fingers inside him, playing with his clit with his thumb and not allowing M/n to bounce or grind against him.

"Relax pretty boy, I'm already giving up." Wilbur chuckles, his hard on pressuring against his jeans and making it hard to think, but he kept doing his good handwork on M/n, putting his three fingers right inside him with no pity. He looks at his boyfriend, his own eyes rolling to the back of his head as he can't take it anymore. He needs to be touched too. "Fuck that!" He takes his hands off him and picks him up, sitting M/n on the bathroom sink and getting on his knees.

Wilbur licks his lips before sucking violently M/n's pussy, his tongue making a way better work than just his fingers. His nose brush against his clit and makes him moan, probably too loud but at least nobody come to see what was happening. M/n grabs Wilbur's hair, forcing him closer. He gets a slap on his thigh for that, his pussy squishing slightly to the rough touch.

"Hey, what the fuck!" M/n complains, crying and moaning while he somehow also pants. Wilbur frowns as he looks up, giving his pussy a last lick before coming up and facing M/n and getting closer to him, still no kiss or caress.

"Your reward." He shrugs, slapping his thigh again. Wilbur quickly undoes his belt, watching M/n's pathetic face and his pre-cum who got out with no trouble just because of him. He rub his cock on M/n's wet mess, going slowly inside his boy, putting his hand on his boyfriend's mouth or else he would moan again.

Wilbur thrusts as hard and fast as he can, not giving him time to recover it when he starts to move inside. It's a quick move, he likes to hurt deep inside, and his big fat cock couldn't be better for this situation. He smirks at his boyfriend, at this time not asking for any permission when he grabs M/n's tits, teasing a nipple while he sucks the other.

[bitchsister]

i loveeee ur smut but i lowkey wanna request some like hurt comfort if ur down to write it😅😅 idk just like bucky and gale being soft with curt when he’s upset and loving him

It’s mail day for the boys and Curt has received four letters from home.

This prompt was filled with general MOTA timeline and plot in mind. Not necessarily EYY, but I did give Curt a cat in it (who in EYY lived longer than Curt..) so this is whatever you want it to be!

“Mail day fellas,” Kenny flipped through his stack and clicked his tongue as he divvied out the letters to their rightful owners. “Gee, Curt.” He continued to flick post at him, his brows furrowed. “You forget to write one back to Ruthie, or somethin’?”

Curt sat on his cot, one of the three that had been pushed to the other side of the tent as to make it seem they hadn’t been squished together through the night, himself in the middle while Bucky and Gale slept chest to back, or back to chest with him. “No — who knows what she’s goin’ on about.” he shrugged a shoulder as he got to work on opening them.

“Didn’t she say last time she was takin’ up marmalade making?” Bucky stood lazily in front of Curt, ruffling his hair like he would anyone else’s, speaking through a toothbrush foamy with paste. “Think maybe she’s got some to share in there?”

Kenny moved across their shared tent to hand off a couple letters to Gale from Marge who poured her heart across those pages, cut open and bled out into the ink.

“You’ll be the first to know” he swatted Bucky’s hand away from his head, his nose scrunched with half-awakeness as he focused his eyes eventually on the first of four letters Ruth had sent to him, pulling Bucky down beside him so they could read them together.

Curt had told Ruth about Bucky quite some time ago — He asked me to punch him, Curtis wrote, recalling the incident like it had happened in a dream. And for the first time in my life, I got nothing out of it. I didn’t want to hurt him. It didn’t feel right.

And then: You remember the Major who wanted me to hit him? Well he’s flying now. He’s bunking with me and Gale. I’m not used to sharing space like this.

Turned into: Bucky thinks I’m his good luck charm. And I think he might be mine.

So, Ruth often asked about Bucky, or what their days together might look like. A little section of her letters to Curt were reserved for him, where they'd talk about things like music or the radio, or whatever else.

Bucky never received letters from home.

It felt nice to see his name written in someone else’s handwriting every so often.

“Ah, see. She did start marmaladin’.” Bucky pointed to the bottom of the letter, hearing Curt huff and swipe his hand again.

“Y’read too fast.”

“Maybe you read too slow.” Shot back in a low timber, Bucky pressed his nose against Curt’s cheek once Kenny had gone on about his merry way to deliver more letters.

Eventually as the pages flicked and Bucky was passed the section of their letters reserved for him, now a whole page, they dwindled down, Curt’s mutter hardly audible when he said “Scout is sick.”, his heart flipping in his chest once he tore open the final letter, his eyes scanning the first paragraph.

Sweet Cutty, our darling Scout has finally grown too tired. Oh, how she loved you! She lived such a long life, and happy as could be until the very end. She was a kitten when we brought you home from the hospital! The two of you, thick as theives.

Curt’s chin wobbled, the awful burning sting in his eyes instantly unbearable.

This morning after her breakfast, she passed in the grass beneath the oak tree. The one you carved your name in before you left.

I think maybe that was her way of saying goodbye to you, too.

A sob lurched out of him, big and loud. So loud, it jolted Gale right up out of his spot across the tent, scrambling quickly as if Curt had been shot. “What’s the matter?” He asked, squatting beside him with his brows furrowed narrowly. His gaze shifted from a Curt who seemed to instantly crumble to dust and Bucky who looked to know at least half of it.

“Is it Scout?” John reached for Curt’s face to cradle his cheeks where hot, horrible tears soaked his palms. “Oh, baby. No — don’t cry,” he cooed, but he knew it was unfair to say such a thing.

He knew just as well as anyone else did in the One Hundredth how much Curt missed his very first partner in crime, the fattest orange cat to ever live.

He held the damp letters in his lap like a lifeline as he read over them again and again, hoping to find some way to read between the lines. She wasn’t really gone. She couldn’t be.

Scout was going to live out all of her nine lives with them.

They made a promise.

“The cat?” Gale piped up, some sense of relief in his voice but he tried to hide it. The way Curt had sounded when he wailed was as if Ruth had dropped dead, or his Pops had clutched his chest for one last heart attack.

Curt nodded his head through waves of grief, simply inconsolable.

It felt so different for Bucky and Gale who’d grown so used to a tough Curtis. He’d take everything on the chin, shake it off, get right back on the saddle every time. He’d never once shed a tear, or shown his fear.

He kept his head high, his shoulders back.

But this.

It was the complete opposite.

He curled in on himself, he wailed into his knees. He heaved through hiccuped sobs, he squeaked a little “She can’t be.” In between them.

It was pain unlike any he’d felt before, and while Gale drew the flap of their tent closed, Bucky had taken it upon himself to scoop a Curtis who’d shriveled himself so small and fragile, his poor frame vibrating with every sob, into his lap. “She lived such a long life, Curtie.” Bucky’s voice was bordering a whisper, his own heart breaking within his chest at the sight.

“And she loved you, hm? Loved you so much. I remember those pictures you showed us. The two of you.” Gale knelt again at Bucky’s knees where Curt curled into himself. “Knew nothing but love all her life. No pain or war. None of this stuff here.”

“I ain’t even there.” It came out in choked stutters, his lips puffy and red. “She thinks I just left. And she fuckin’ died.” Another wave swept him up and dragged him out to sea, drowning in his own tears that he didn’t bother holding back. “What if she — “ he didn’t get the chance to finish, demolished yet again by the burning, searing pain in his chest, and the Cat-shaped hole that was left there.

“She loves you so much.” Bucky whispered, pressing kisses into Curt’s hair that had gone slightly damp with sweat. “She’s with you now, hm? Found her boy all those miles away. Watchin’ over you, I’m sure.”

“You know damn well she’d be in that co-pilot seat.” Gale reached up and coxed Curt’s face gently out of Bucky’s chest where his shirt had been drenched with tears. “That’s where she’ll be now, Curtie. She’ll be right here with us.”

Hands roamed Curt’s tensed body.

His chest, his neck, his cheeks that burned like little stoves. They pushed his hair out of his face, they swiped his tears away even if they were immediately replaced with fresh ones — eventually, though, there were no more tears left to cry.

He’d wrung himself dry, nothing but hiccups left and a blank stare across the room, his fingers deftly tracing the lines over Bucky’s knuckles where strong arms slung around his middle to hold Curt’s back against his chest. “Take a breath.” Bucky whispered, their cheeks pressed together. “Just breathe.”

Gale sucked in a few breaths with Curt, their lungs filling and emptying at the same time despite a few being cut short by a dry-sob, the realization dawning upon him over and over.

He’ll never see her again.

She’s gone.

“Tell us your favorite memory you have of her.” Gale shifted to sit on the ground, his neck craned to look at Curt who glanced down at him, oceans of blue drowned in vines of bloodshot red.

As he thought, the slightest touch of a smile came wandering back to his lips. Their archive of memories were so extensive, lasting all of Curt’s life as he knew it, accompanied by a sidekick who’d steal your food the moment you glanced away, but loved to give kisses on the nose afterward as an apology. “She followed me to school once.” He sniffled, smile growing wider as he recalled it. “Laid right on my feet. Didn’t bother nobody.”

The three of them laughed gently together, quiet and careful.

“She hated most everybody. Found no pleasure in meeting new friends.”

Bucky squeezed his arms around Curtis, “S’cuz she had you, baby.”

There’s a few more sniffles, a couple more outbursts, but eventually Curt falls asleep, exhausted by his own hand with his head lulled against Bucky’s shoulder and his pinkie locked with Gales.

[kingdaddydaichi]

❅ title: christmas morning with the sawamuras

❅ pairing: dad!daichi sawamura x mom!reader

❅ wc: 1.1k

❅ warnings/notes: sfw. suggestive innuendo at the end. domestic fluff.

You hear them before you see them.

“MOMMY! DADDY!” the children yell as they run towards your bed. “WAKE UP!”

There’s the sudden mmffph that’s forced from your husband’s lungs when the first girl lunges herself on top of his once-sleeping form, followed by a loud groan when your other daughter dogpiles both of them. The girls, aged 7 and 5, are accompanied by their 2-year-old brother who isn’t quite big enough to toss himself onto your king-size bed. You hear him whine as he tries to climb his way onto the bed, so you sit up and reach for him, smiling sleepily as you pull him up to join his sisters in terrorizing their father.

“Daddy! Wake up! Mommy, help us!”

“I’m awake,” he grumbles, opening one of his tired eyes to look over at the window. “What time is it? It’s still dark…” he says, reaching for his phone to check.

“IT’S TIME TO OPEN PRESENTS, DADDY!” your middle child informs him before your oldest chimes in. “THERE ARE SO MANY! WE CAN’T EVEN SEE THE FLOOR UNDER THE CHRISTMAS TREE!”

By now, your little boy has crawled his way into your secure arms, both of you watching and giggling at the scene before you. There is a mess of little arms and legs and long, dark brown hair on top of poor Daichi. The love and adoration his daughters have for him is undeniable. He is technically awake, but not enough to satisfy the girls. The 5-year-old presses her little hands against his cheeks and squishes his face as she gets right up in it and yells into his mouth (as if that’s somehow going to make her louder), “DADDY, WAKE UUUUUUUUUPPPPP!!”

But it worked because now Daichi is laughing. “Alright, now you’ve done it!” he announces, his arms breaking free from the weight of his 5-year-old offender to tickle her sides as she tumbles onto the bed next to him in a ball of high-pitched squeals and laughter.

Finally, the children manage to drag their parents out of bed, the girls taking their father by the hands and whisking him away as your baby boy runs after them. You hang back long enough to put your cozy house robe on before walking into the living room where the oldest is ordering her Daddy to sit on the floor to watch them open their presents. After a big stretch and a scratch of his belly, he obliges. Even with messy hair and eyes watery with sleep, your husband is devastatingly handsome. 

“Mommy! You sit there next to Daddy!” 

“She’s almost as bossy as her father,” you muse to your husband as you make your way to the floor next to him.

“I’m not bossy,” he retorts groggily.

You raise your eyebrows at him and press your lips together to stifle the tempting ‘I told you so’ that desperately wants to be said when he starts laying down the law.

“Listen up, kids!” he says with a big yawn. “Here are the rules! All gifts must be handed to me first to see who they’re for! No opening each other’s gifts and no fighting over them either! Understood?”

“Yes, Daddy,” they all chirp in unison as you kneel behind him to drape your arms over his shoulders and kiss him on the cheek.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper in his ear with a nibble to the lobe.

“Watch it, angel,” he growls with a smirk before turning his focus back to your three crotch goblins.

“Go! Have at it!” he permits with a wave of his hand and immediately three gifts are eagerly shoved in his face. The kids practically dive under the tree like a bunch of wild savages, ripped wrapping paper and ribbons and bows flying every which way.

“Daddy,” your soft-spoken toddler says, holding out a box. “Help open, pwease?”

“Of course, buddy,” Daichi smiles, taking the box as his son sits on his lap. “Oh, babe…”

“Already on it!” you say, halfway to your bedroom to fetch his pocket knife from his nightstand drawer. Seconds later, you’re back, putting the tool in Daichi’s outstretched hand.

“You’re as handy as a pocket on a shirt, you know that?” he grins as you settle beside him on the floor again. “Thanks, babe.” He leans over to give you a quick peck on your smiling lips before turning to his little boy. “Hey, buddy, why don’t you sit in Mommy’s lap so I can help open your box, okay?”

“Nkay…” the boy beams as he climbs his way over to you. He watches intently as his father cuts through the tape before passing the box to him. His little hands awkwardly work the flaps open as his big, brown eyes widen when he sees what’s inside. 

“What is it?” Daichi asks with excitement.

“PIKACHU!” he says gleefully, beaming as he holds the plushie of his favorite Pokemon up for his father to see.

Outside, the sun is breaking the horizon as you and your husband treasure the sight of your three babies as they chatter and shuffle about with the occasional squeal of delight and the steady stream of “Mommy! Daddy! Look!” that accompanies the presentation of every toy and game.

In the midst of the chaos, time seems to slow down when your husband scoots closer to you and pulls you into his lap, trapping you in his strong arms to brush his nose against yours and whisper “I love you”. You slot your lips with his to share a lingering kiss, broken only by your soft proclamation of the love you have for him. 

You’re both smiling against each other’s lips when Daichi says, “Thank you, baby.” 

“Mm…for what?” 

“For them,” he mutters, glancing over at your happy kids before kissing you again, more deeply this time, sneaking in a little tongue.

“EWWW GROSS!!” The two girls protest at the sight of their parents. “They’re sucking each other’s faces again!”

You and Daichi laugh quietly, your romantic moment interrupted. “Such as they are,” your husband jokes, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you chuckle, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Daichi waggles his eyebrows at you with a wicked smirk. “Speaking of which…I’ll give you your present later.”

“Yeah?” You bite your lip seductively. “What is it?”

With a small shake of his head, he says, “Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.”

“Is it big?” you snicker.

He nods, his naughty grin growing wider.

“Is it hard?”

“Not yet, but it will be.”

“IS IT A BIKE TIRE??” your 5-year-old guesses loudly, sending you and your husband into a fit of laughter on the floor.

“No, honey,” Daichi wheezes, barely able to get the words out. “But your mom can certainly ride it.” 

“DAICHI!” you scold, playfully slapping his arm as your writhe on the floor with him.

Your daughter looks on with confusion, but eventually shrugs and rejoins her siblings in their pile of presents.

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[anotherhumanpet]

Dennis was caught somewhere in between feeling stressed and relieved; the storm and its eerie calm at the center of everything. Being completely honest with and about himself had his emotions amped up, then scattered all over the place, because he never, ever allowed himself to be this vulnerable with anyone. Being vulnerable meant being fearful and anxious, of rejection and-or of criticism, which Rin was right to be cautious of. With everything being so bare, raw, and exposed between them, Dennis had been forcefully put into a sensitive position and was going to take anything and everything said to him straight to the heart. If any of it hurt him... It wouldn't be Rin's fault, but it would still cut deeply.

But there had been something rather freeing in finally letting out all of his thoughts too. Yes, it had been a forced and frightening process, but Dennis couldn't deny that even with how vulnerable, raw, and terrified he felt right now, he was also feeling a lot lighter, at peace - or something close to it, and finally willing to face Rin with everything that made him who he was too. There was no more uncertainty about how he should say things or protective secrecy on what he should or shouldn't say. There was just him, Dennis, and whatever Rin wanted to do with that; with him.

Wherever Rin went to, Dennis would follow suit - even if it meant drifting apart.

He stilled in Rin's grasp, not exactly fearful of what was about to come but bracing for it all the same. Nothing on Rin's face suggested that he needed to be afraid though. Those insecurities were all coming from Dennis' own heart - which was beating heavily and rapidly, like a steam engine. Dennis worked his anxieties out by fidgeting his fingers around his sides though and waited patiently for Rin to find his words. And when they finally came, Dennis listened carefully and closely to each and every single one.

Then, when Rin was done, Dennis started tearing up but smiled as widely as he could between the hands that were gently squishing his cheeks. Real quick like, he counted off to nine on his fingers, and sighed. With this next rambling response, he'd be on his ninth episode of honesty, and left with only one more to go.

Hopefully he could keep being honest, even after the magic waned.

"First--" He shakily laughed, going with the format Rin had set so they could both keep up with all the words being exchanged between them. He even raised one of his hands and pointed the index finger out to give a visual of the point being addressed. "--I'll.. I'll try to remember that from now on. Even though he can be a real dick, but-- If it's not hate, then it's okay. I'll.. figure out where he and I stand then, and I'll make things work between us.

"Second," now his middle finger rose to go with the first, then both his hands gently clasp around Rin's wrists while he let out another sigh to steady himself, "You're not a freak of nature. Not to me. Like-- I know you're the son of Satan and you've got all these demonic powers because of that, but that doesn't make you a freak. You're just you, and I love you and your powers are amazing. And you're right about everyone too, I guess, cause I keep freaking myself out from you guys cause you're all so close and you know how to work together without even trying anymore, and I just... I feel out of place. Like, I'm came in late to the party but-- I'll try to not freak out so much. And to be something better than your leash and tamer." That last part is said as a light joke, as evident by the amused huff Dennis makes while he leans into one of Rin's hands.

Then, three fingers rise up from his hold on Rin's wrist, signaling the next point before they curl back around the other boy's arm. "Third..."

"...I'm sorry. For making you feel bad, I mean, and for not talking enough anyway cause that's just how things work, right? You're supposed to know me better anyone, and I'm supposed to know you better than anyone. And I just... I dunno. I thought me moving here and getting away from everyone would help me deal with the divorce better, but it's obviously not because I'm still not really talking to anyone. Not on my own, anyway. And I hate that. Like-- I'm scared to do it, but I hate that I can't just get over it and be honest with you for real. So, I'm sorry.

"...my dad's not a piece of shit though. He just.. He works. A lot. The hospital always keeps him busy, but he was always nice and loving when he and mom weren't fighting. I just-- I just really miss him, ya know? And I just wanted him to be home more often and to frikkin listen to my mom and I, but... I dunno. He couldn't do that and I don't get why. I just know everything fell apart after my mom and I talked, so, like, how is that not my fault in some way?"

@anotherhumanpet continued from here:

Yeah, he should have known Rin would hear that.

Dennis softly laughs. "Your demon heart doesn't really seem to like me though, but I don't blame him either. I have been a bumbling, idiot, prey animal around all of you guys and I'm in way over my head with all of this exorcist stuff. I'm not very open about myself with you either because I just don't want to bug you with all of my crap, which has been making me come off like, really closed off and secretive with you."

"And I don't meant to be! I just... After I told my mom that I was really frustrated with my dad because he wasn't home a lot and even when he was home he was acting like we were crazy for seeing things he couldn't, she just.. took everything I said and got a divorce. And I feel like shit for that because I ruined everything by being honest! So like, yeah I'm gonna start keeping everything in! I ruin everything when I don't, ya know!? "But then I don't talk to you. And I don't know how. Not without some stupid honesty spell making me do it. And that's stupid and crappy of me. Your demon half should hate me. I'm bad and terrible at this."

🌀 Oops... Rin hadn't meant to take advantage of Dennis being under an honesty spell with his comment. He genuinely just wanted to reassure his boyfriend, but had accidentally forced the poor guy to spill all his deepest, darkest secrets instead, which likely had the exact opposite effect. Another dumbass act-first-think-later moment from Rin Okumura

"Dennis... Dennis, stop..." Rin steps forward and just places both his hands on Dennis' cheeks. A lot really did make sense now, but hearing the truth absolutely broke his heart.

"Okay-" Jeez, there was a lot to unpack here, and Rin was terrified of saying something that would make things even worse. But he had to try.

"First of all, I- I don't understand a lot about my demon side, but I know what hate feels like, and that's not what it feels towards you. I don't think that side of me hates anything, really... that's more of a human emotion."

"And second, all of us are in over our heads! Our classmates might act like they've got everything under control, but they're all dealing with difficult stuff just like you and me, okay? And the only reason I'm not an absolute failure is because I'm just some literal freak of nature. That's not an accomplishment, that's just... it is what it is."

"And third, don't blame yourself for your dad being a piece of shit. I don't know what happened, but you don't control your parents' decisions. I'm sorry your family fell apart like that, and that is awful to deal with, but blaming yourself isn't going to make it any better. I never met your mom, but if she's anything like you, than I doubt she's stupid. She probably noticed your dad's behavior before you said anything, and even if she didn't, I bet she would eventually."

"And I... yeah... I'd like you to be more open with me, but I understand, okay? It's something you can take your time with. Some stuff is just really hard to share, I get it. I'd never think you're stupid for doing that, and I sure as hell could never, ever hate you for any reason. So stop it." 🐈‍⬛

[missluckycharms]

You, Me and Harry make three. Part Two.

Summary: Joey, Izzy and Harry are in a poly relationship. They're head over heels for one another and they can't seem to keep their hands off each another, even when they really need to.

Harry is the Harry Styles, the man who is known for being so open and lovable. He's nervous to let the world see his girls, what would his fans think If he was dating two girls at the same time? And they all shared the one bed and home? He doesn't want to know, he wants them all to himself.

This small story follows the three and their rendezvous together behind the scenes.

Masterlist.

Part One.

Warnings: Switch!Harry, Mommy kink, slight Daddy kink, FxFxM threesome, fingering, oral sex f+m receiving, Male + Female penetrative sex, Female + Female sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, sneaking around (?) masturbation and mentions of it, degradation kink, praise kink, dirty talking, anal play, biting, polyamorous relationship.

A/N: Izzy and Joey are OCs! Their features will be discussed in this, if you don’t want to envision them how I write them, feel free to use your own images of them! I hope you’ve enjoyed them as much as I have! Harry Joey and Izzy are now my new babies, and I will protect them with my whole heart 🥺

Word count: 5.3k.

—

"This place is amazing!"

"If singing on stage gives you this, sign me up for your supporting act H!"

Harry smiles and laughs watching his girls, the pair in awe running about the Italian villa he owns, hidden away amongst shrubbery and gated security, no one only Harry and his team know about this villa, it's a very secret location that Harry has done all he can to not let people find this place. It's not as grand as you would think it would be, a millionaire rockstar having a smallish Italian villa decorated mainly in old vintage Italian furniture, is not something you would hear of very often, most singers would have penthouses with the latest technology and fast cars in the driveway — not Harry, he would take this small secluded villa with a vintage convertible in the driveway over a multi million dollar penthouse with a Lamborghini in the front.

"Recognise the decor?" He asks as they both walk back in, their sunglasses pushed up into their hairs and their summer dresses flowing above their knees, their smiles bright and their arms linked as they look at Harry before them.

"No way! It's the theme we suggested for this place! Look Iz, it's the painting you suggested we buy in the art gallery last time we went to France!"

Joey says tugging Izzys arm and pointing at a large painting on the wall behind the dining table, the silhouette of a woman laying on a sofa with fabric draped over her, the sofa situated on a balcony as the sunset casts down onto her making her dark against the painting, the sunset the main focus as the arch of the balcony door in the golden hues of the sunset seeping in around the room. Harry fell in love with it in the gallery the last time they all took a trip there, Izzy grabbing his hand and pulling him towards where it was being showcased as Joey chatted to the artist about another piece that caught her eye. Harry loved the way Izzy was in awe over this work of art, he knew instantly he needed it somewhere personal and private for them all, he knew this villa he was had being done up would be the perfect place for the painting.

It was all perfect, and Harry loved it.

"I think she looks like Jo, that's why I loved it. See? The curves and the way she's laid out — confident and beautiful, it's our Jo!" Izzy says sweetly, causing Joey to kiss her head and nod for Harry to join them, the three of them all hugging and looking up at the painting, Izzy squished in the middle as Joey and Harry hold onto her with love.

"I think, we should have a wine and pasta night — right way to start our vacation, mmh?" Harry asks kissing the two girls heads, the pair looking at him with all the adoration in the world, his white goggle glasses pushed into his curly hair, his long sleeve white and navy shirt on his torso along with linen white trousers on his legs accompanied by scruffy vans with pink laces on his feet, he looked like art — if they could, they would chose him as the painting for the wall.

"Are you cooking it? Mister pasta chef?" Joey asks teasing him by brushing her nose off his, the pair close to one another as Izzy rests her head on Joey's arm looking at Harry and Joey tease one another with little kisses and lip bites filled with small laughs and breathy moans.

"I'll try my best, how about you two clean up? You both must be worn out and sweaty from our trip here" he says with a wink, kissing the two girls before disappearing off into the kitchen, a near skip in his step as he smiles heading to make dinner for him and his girls.

"I think he was jealous of our bathroom trip" Joey says as Izzy laughs blushing a little, Joey wrapping her arm around her shoulder and kissing her forehead many times as they walk and laugh towards their bedroom, the bathroom awaiting them — much like the bathroom in Harry's private jet did.

As the girls fill up the bathtub, giggles and lavender filled bubbles kissing their skin as they share time together, soft innocent touches and jokes passed back and forth as they washed one another and kissed showing affection amongst many small cuddle sessions that always ended up with Izzy plastering lavender bubbles on Joey's face when she closed her eyes to relax, Joey retaliating with splashing water at Izzy as she fights back, their laughs echoing around the villa as Harry smiles to himself, his music playing not being loud enough to block out their laughs.

The kitchen is dimly lit, candles filled the space as his record player spins an old Fleetwood Mac vinyl of his, the sunset casting a slight hue through the back doors of the villa, the curtains framing the glass doors blowing slightly in the summer breeze of Italy. Harry is humming while stirring the pasta, his body filled with warmth and excitement as he prepares the meal, sauce in a pan while he cooks the pasta, flour on his apron from when he tried to make pasta from scratch from a recipe book he bought the last time he was here alone, this is the first time he's brought his girls here — it's safe to say, he'll never come here alone again, it's meant to be filled with laughs and the smell of pasta cooking while Fleetwood Mac dances around the aroma scented villa, Harry knows he can never come here alone again.

He would never want to come here alone again.

"Is that meatballs I smell?" Izzy says skipping out into the kitchen, her hair damp and Harry's black vintage Pink Floyd on her body, a pair of his boxers on her legs as shorts as she nearly dances into Harrys arms as he holds them out, turning them both so they're facing the stove, his hand stirring the sauce and meatballs with a wooden spoon as Izzy cuddles into him.

"Here, take a taste — we all know you're the meatball connoisseur" Harry laughs, holding up half a meatball covered in tomato sauce filled with herbs and spices he found. She leans forward and wraps her lips around the end of the spoon, her tongue lapping up all the sauce along with the meat as she pulls away looking at him with furrowed brows as she tastes it, swishing it about and gathering up all the flavours he's added in.

"Good?" He asks nervously, her silence deafening as she smiles, leaning over to lick the remainders off the spoon while holding eye contact with him.

"Your sauce always tastes nice, H" she says kissing his neck, holding eye contact with him as she spins around and heads back towards the bedroom, his mouth slightly open as he watches her leave, her small frame disappearing as he gulps while turning his attention back to the food.

"How's our boy getting on?" Joey asks brushing through her hair, Izzy watching her in awe sitting behind her on the bed, Joey's eyes on her in the mirror as she sits at the vanity smiling at her.

"Dancing to Stevie and making dinner, he's okay" she giggles as Joey smiles, leaving down her hairbrush and joining Izzy on their bed, another one of Harry's t shirts on her body also, a white Rolling Stones t shirt, small holes in the neck and hem of the shirt from how long Harry has owned it and wore it. Harry is obsessed with seeing them in his clothes, always telling them to wear his shirts around the house when they're all alone — he loves seeing them wrapped in his things, claiming them as his and only his.

"We should feel bad for letting him cook alone" Joey says leaning over Izzy, straddling her waist as her chin knocks against their forehead gently to signal for her to lay down, her brown damp hair fanning around her head as Joey rests above her, smiling down softly at her as they bask in one another's presence in the warm golden hue of the lamps on the bed side tables.

"He insisted, he loves to cook" Izzy says sighing when Joey connects their lips, Izzys hands coming up to cup her face as Joey holds onto her thigh with one hand and cradling her head with the other, her nails scratching at her scalp as Izzys thighs lock around Joey's waist and holding her against her more as they kiss slowly and passionately, the pair smiling and worshiping one another as they listen to Harry softy sing in the kitchen cooking them all dinner.

They're all in bliss, their safe haven being their only escape from the world and the only time they can all be alone and show one another how much they care for each other. Sure they have their alone times in hotel rooms and back stage, but it's nothing like being locked away in a villa in a country that isn't demanding Harry to be on talk shows and random small interviews here and there, it's a place where they can just relax and not care about the beady eyes of the public and Jeff banging down the doors demanding Harry being at a certain place. This is the second vacation all three have spend together, the first being in Spain and now they're here, they've all preferred secluded small villas to grand luxurious hotel suites looking over the whole City of Venice.

The small villa with two gardens filled with flowers, trees and a small patch where Harry said he would one day grow his own vegetables if he gets to stay here that long, he wants to grow his own food to be able to make authentic dishes for his pasta loving girlfriends — this villa is enough for him, and he would never want to have a luxurious life filled with money and expensive clothes and furniture that probably would break if you touched it, Harry doesn't want that — he wants a vintage decorated villa, filled with flowers out front while Stevie sings around the building on vinyl as his girls laugh, almost in tune with every song as he cooks and treats them like he wants to, treat them like his lovers — and one day, like his wives.

"Came to get you two for dinner, but looks like you're getting to dessert without me" Harry says from the doorframe, his body leaned on it as he stands with his flour covered apron, a smile on his lips as the girls pause and look at him, Joey nearly between Izzys thighs as they laugh and blush looking at him.

"Come on, dinners served Madams!" Harry jokes leading them both to where he's set up, the back garden is filled with fairy lights, the bushes and trees decorated in the small lights as the table sits in a small patch of grass amongst all the high bushes and trees, shielding them from any prying eyes that could be near by.

"I think we're underdressed for this" Joey says looking at hers and Izzys current states, the pair only wearing Harrys t shirts and his boxers as shorts, Harry beside them with a stained apron and his clothes from this morning when they flew over.

"Who says? Tonight, I actually decided the theme is half naked and drunk on Italian wine" he shrugs leading them to their chairs, the girls smiling and laughing as the places one kiss to their lips each, their smiles never fading as Harry excuses himself, leaving his girls under the fairy lights as they look around in awe at the garden.

He soon strides out, only in his long sleeve shirt and boxers, dishes in his hands filled with their meal as the pair laugh and cheer in excitement and also whistling for their boyfriend who's half naked dishing them their dinner, his confidence sky rocketing as his girls take him in, complementing him and his food as he passes out a plate to them, leaving one at his place at the table as he wanders back inside, Izzy shouting about how his bum looks while Joey laughs about how "biteable his British bum looks" Harry will never get tired of her saying that to him.

Their dinner is filled with laughs, complements thrown at Harry for his cooking and wine filled jokes and stories about their times together, Izzy acting out how Harry first reacted to Joey using a strap on, on him and Joey acting out how Harry drunkenly tried to sing for the two, half naked and using a shampoo bottle as a mic as the pair sat half asleep in the bed, their boyfriend after waking them up by belting a mashup of any song he could think of at three in the morning in their hotel room — it's safe to say it's one of their favourite memories together even if Harry only half remembers it.

Their tipsy jokes and random touches has lead them to their bedroom, Harry tied up to the headboard as Joey straddles Izzy at the end of the bed, the pair putting on a show as Harry whines and rattles his hands against the handcuffs to try and break free to touch them, his underwear suffocating his erection as he watches the girls fully naked touching and kissing one another, clearly getting off on how Harry is reacting to watching them, his body covered in sweat as he whines and curses into the air.

"You can whine all you want baby boy, but you're ours tonight, you do as you're told, got it?" Joey says as she pants slightly, Izzy suckling on her nipples and kissing her breasts as Joey speaks to Harry, her eyes on him as he bites his lip and nods obsessively at her.

"Yes, yes I'll do as I'm told" he says as Joey smiles, grasping Izzys hair in her fingers and pressing her face closer to her breasts as she keeps her eyes on Harry, knowing it drives him wild when she does this.

"Yes who?" She says as Izzy reacts to this also, her small whines coming out in tune with Harrys as they both curse and look at Joey with glassy eyes and their full attention on her.

"Yes, mommy" Harry says slowly, his head foggy and only focused on Joey and Izzy, his body feels like jelly as he smiles lazily and bites his lip watching his girls please one another in front of him.

"Good boy" she hums out, taking Izzy off her breasts lightly and laying her down on her back, her eyes on the small girl as she smiles in response, her bottom lip between her teeth as Joey lowers herself, kissing her body as she goes lower and lower towards where Izzy needs her most.

Harry is whining and tugging against the handcuffs as Joey eats Izzy out, Izzys own moans coming out and mixing in the air with Harrys as Joey feeds off their reactions, Izzy falling apart on her tongue as Harry falls apart only by looking at them, he's pretty sure he could cum just by looking at them — it's happened before, both girls ended up loving it and he ended up loving being humiliated by the pair as he whined into their mouths with his underwear filled with his own cum in the back of a limo on their way home from an event, the windows tinted but they all love the thrill of being found out as they're all on top of one another in a limo.

"Look at him Iz, getting hard by looking at you getting your pretty cunt ate" Joey says pulling away to slip her fingers into Izzys cunt, coaxing her towards her second orgasm of the night as Izzy moans and squirms about on the bed, much like Harry is at the top of the bed, his arms clattering in the metal against the headboard as Joey holds eye contact with him as she dips back down to suck at Izzys clit.

"Please, let me touch you both, mommy please" he whines as Izzy moans out loudly, her second high washing over her as Joey licks and laps up her release with a smile kissing her thighs as she rides her through her high, the pair glistening in sweat as they pleasure one another before their boyfriend who's about to fall apart watching it all.

"Mommy, Haz wants go touch himself" Izzy speaks up, Joey worshipping her body as Izzy looks at Harry clenching his own thighs together, trying anything to get some relief as he's restrained to the headboard.

"Should we let him? Let him touch his cock and watch us have some fun?" Joey says looking at Izzy who's pleading for Harry, needing to see him touch himself as Joey smiles at her.

"Alright baby girl, you let Haz out and I'll get our special toy we love, okay?" She instructs Izzy who's crawling towards a frustrated Harry who's covered in sweat and needing someone to touch him. She lets him free with the click of a key in the lock of the cuffs, Joey grabbing hers and Izzys favourite toy from their toy bag they bring with them everywhere — it's a double sided blue dildo, Harry loves it when they use it before him, they even face time him and use it while he's away on his own, his hand tugging at his cock as he watches them through a screen falling apart on their favourite toy.

Harry is loving it, watching them now in person, holding onto one another as they use the dildo together, their clits brushing off one another's as they move along the toy, Harry being instructed to touch himself but not to cum, Joey insisting that he be edged until she can finally fuck him. The girls are whining and moaning as they brush up against one another as they move, one of Joey's legs up on Izzys shoulders as both of Izzys legs hug Joey's waist while Joey's other leg rests around Izzys back holding her up against her body a little, preventing her from falling down in pleasure.

"Look so good, gonna cum all over myself just by looking at you both" Harry moans out, his hand lazily stroking his cock as Joey laughs while biting her lip looking at him, Izzy moaning away as Joey holds onto her, rocking their lips back and forth as they please one another.

"Yeah? You gonna cum all over yourself like you did that night in the limo? Poor baby couldn't even hold it in, came just by watching his girls make out" Joey teases him as Harry whines at her words, loving how she humiliates him yet again, his hand squeezing his cock to prevent himself from cumming just by listening to the words falling from her swollen plumped up lips.

Both Izzy and Joey fall apart on the toy, Harry nearly cumming along with them but when he earns a slap to his thigh by Joey he soon collects himself and tries to hold it off in the hopes that he gets some action too, the curly haired man coated in sweat biting his tongue to hold off on saying the wrong thing that could lead to him going to sleep hard and frustrated while his girls sleep peacefully around him, content and satisfied.

"Think he deserves to have his ass played with Iz? Think he deserves to have Mommy's tongue in his hole?" Joey asks as Izzy smiles lazily at her, the pair now kissing and laying beside one another on the bed as Harry watches them with pleading eyes.

"Yes mommy, he's been a good boy for you, want to watch you eat his hole" Izzy sighs out as Joey kisses her hard before slapping her Sensitive cunt with a laugh earning her a squeal and laugh from Izzy in return as she scurries up beside Harry, Joey watching as Harry whines into Izzys mouth as they kiss desperately.

"Good girl, giving Harry your pretty lips" Joey hums sitting in front of the pair, leaning over to brush Izzys hair out of the way as her and Harry whine into one another's mouths, tongues and teeth clashing as Joey observes them with a smile over how submissive the two of them are for her.

"Been such a good boy H, think you deserve my mouth. On your knees, and put that pretty ass up in the air" Joey instructs him, Izzy breaking away from him as he jumps into position, his head against the sheets as Izzy sits in front of him, brushing the curls from his face and littering small kisses all over him as Joey slaps his ass a few times to rile him up even more.

"Such a pretty hole. Desperate for it aren't ya baby boy? Clenching around nothing" Joey hums out as she runs her thumb over his hole, hearing his whines against the sheets as Izzy smiles and cooes at him while Joey bends down, running her tongue over his hole as he clutches onto the bed sheets.

"Doing so good mommy, Haz is tearing up over your tongue. Does it feel good?" She says to Joey and then looking down at Harry who now has his head in her lap, his cheek against her thigh as she runs her thumb over his cheeks soothing him as he desperately squirms under Joey's touch as she licks into his hole behind him.

"Feels s'good, fucking hell" he moans out loudly when Joey finally slips her fingers into him, the bottle of lube being discarded onto the bed beside them as Harry holds onto Izzys thighs while burying his head in her thighs also, moaning loudly from the pleasure as Izzy holds onto him, making eye contact with Joey every now and then as she happily licks and fingers Harry's hole just how he likes it.

"That's it baby, take mommy's fingers" Joey moans out watching as Harrys hole takes her fingers like nothing, his moans loud as she curls them up and hits off his prostate which sends him into a frenzy, his cock hard and leaking between his legs as he fights off his orgasm like Joey is demanding him to do, his thighs being slapped everytime she knows he's close to letting go.

"He needs to cum so badly mommy, can he cum?" Izzy asks Joey innocently, her eyes glassy and her lips swollen from biting down on them watching Harry fall apart as he rests his head on her thighs, his eyes looking up into hers as he silently pleads with her to ask can he cum.

"He's not cumming until Mommy puts her special cock into his hungry hole" Joey says through gritted teeth as she moans out watching as Harry squirms and moans for her, pleading with her to let him cum as they all look desperately at one another.

"Gonna go and get our special toy baby, Izzy keep our boy company" Joey instructs as Izzy bends down to engage in hers and Harrys own quiet conversation, small laughs and whispers heard amongst kisses as Joey smiles fondly, gathering up her strap on and pulling it up onto her as Izzy showers Harry in delicate kisses as he basks in all the attention, loving the adoration all over him.

It's only a few more minutes before Harry is losing his mind on the bed, his hands clutching onto Izzys thighs as she rubs his back and runs her fingers through her hair, Joey behind Harry pounding into him with her strap on as she praises him to no end, Harry loving the praise and attention as he gets ruined by his two girls.

"You love this, don't you? Getting fucked in the ass, wonder what your fans would think if they knew this, Harry Styles begging to be fucked in the ass and desperate to cum" Joey says which causes Harry to moan out loudly, Joey's hand joining izzys in his hair as she pulls on his hair erupting a growl from his chest at the feeling.

"Bet they'd all go crazy knowing you love to call me Mommy also, they'd love to know how fucking desperate to cum you get and how needy you are for a cock up your ass" Izzy moans at Joey's words also, the pair getting off at her words as she gives it her all, her hips snapping up against Harrys as his cock rests on the sheets rubbing off the soft cotton with each thrust of her hips.

"They'd also love how he likes to be called daddy, right mommy?" Izzy joins in on Harrys humiliation, his lazy smile up at Izzy as she joins in, almost proud of her as Joey holds the same smile, their quiet girl being vocal in bed is something they love, they know how hard it is for her to be like this, so when a few filthy words slip from her lips they both beam at her like she just learned how to talk for the first time.

"That's right Iz, they'd go crazy if they knew what a whore our baby boy is in bed, how kinky he really is and how much he loves to be man handled by his girls" Joey says as Izzy beams happily at her, the girl proud of herself for making them both smile and for speaking out loud in bed, especially when her words earned her a moan from Harry that sent shivers up her spine over how desperate he sounded.

"M'gonna cum, harder mommy please!" He begs out as Joey pounds into him harder, Izzy immediately reaching under his hips to grab his cock as Harry catches her nipple in his mouth, her breasts in his face as she strokes his cock, his moans vibrating through Izzy as Joey moans watching them both moan at one another at the head of the bed.

Joey's hands dig harder into Harrys waist, his ass jiggling as she pounds into him from behind, his body coated in sweat as her red hand prints are clearly visible on his cheeks from earlier, his body shaking as he nears his high, toes curling against the sheets as Joey doesn't stop moving, her own body coated in sweat as she puts power behind her thrusts to get their boyfriend to cum, every thrust she sends into him causing the dildo to brush against his prostate sending him into a frenzy.

"Pump him harder Iz, he's almost there, aren't you baby boy? Gonna cum all over Izzys hand and the sheets, yeah?" Joey asks as Harry moans out with a nod, his hands desperately gripping onto Izzys thighs and his mouth sucking her nipple as Izzy moans out at the feeling, stroking his cock faster and harder, Harrys hand rutting against her hand and the sheets.

"Fucking him so good mommy, come on Haz, cum for me and mommy" Izzy spits out as she moans at the feeling of Harry sucking on her nipples, Harry finally letting go at the sound of her dirty talking, it's not expected from her but when she doesn't spit out a few curses or dirty words it sends him and Joey over the edge, their innocent girlfriend talking dirty is something they never knew could make them crumble so quickly.

"Thank you mommy, thank you, thank you" he slurs out when Joey pulls out, his head of curls resting on Izzys thighs as she pulls the curls from his sweaty forehead, her fingers separating each curl from being matted together with sweat as Joey cleans off the dildo and runs to get a wash cloth to clean him up — Harry having his own washcloth, a light blue one, Izzy having a lilac one while Joey has a dark purple one, each one of them having their own colours.

"I know bub, just bare with me, just need to clean you up" Joey cooes out while wiping his hole and cock, Harry hissing and groaning over how sensitive he is right now, his lips kissing small kisses over Izzys thighs as Joey smiles at their small interaction.

"Did so good for us H, need to come back to me now yeah?" Joey says as Izzy kisses his face to try and coax him out of his sub space, his eyes hooded and tear filled as Izzy tries to help him come back.

"Mommy, thank you" he slurs out which causes Joey to throw his washcloth into the laundry hamper and crawl up beside him and wrap her arm around his back, flipping him over so he's half laying on each of their laps as they look down at him.

"No H, it's Joey now, come back to me, come back to Joey baby" she says soothing him quietly, his eyes falling closed before his mind finally clears of the fog that filled it, his smile wide in his blissed out state as he begins to come back.

"M'back now" he mumbles out as the two girls laugh a little, kissing him as he smiles lazily wrapping his arms around their thighs as they rest against the headboard with Harry in their laps.

"Think it's time for a bath. H, you follow Izzy and she'll get the bath ready while I clean up in here, okay?" Joey says instructing them all once again, the pair disappearing into the bathroom, Harry having to be held up by Izzy which was comical to watch, her small frame trying to keep his tall one up as her head rests on his bicep trying to guide him.

Their small conversation and laughs are heard from the bathroom, the water running and the smell of Harry's favourite lavender bath salts filling their noses as Joey pulls of the messy sheets, pulling on some new ones and quickly joining her babies in the bathroom, the pair now in the bath and splashing one another with water, Izzy resting against Harrys chest between his legs as they leave a space in front of her for where Joey usually sits, Izzy usually being sandwiched between the two as they all relax together.

"Room for one more?" Joey asks which causes them all to smile, remembering how she said those exact words when she saw Izzy and Harry making out across the room in the club two years ago, from then on, they never once regretted saying ...

"Always room for one more"

[aminiatureworld]

An Unexpected Rival

Characters: Childe, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 3,556

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: When thinking about fighting for the affections of someone, one normally imagines great declarations of love and promises of loyalty. But sometimes that’s not it. Sometimes it’s simply living with a being that hates you more than anything.

In which the reader’s pet hates their s/o

Author’s Note: I did give the pets names because I felt I couldn’t really refer to them as “your pet” the whole time. I also am not a pet owner. Still I hope you enjoy! 

Going to try non bullet pointed for a bit. We’ll see how it goes!

Childe

Honestly you didn’t know what to do.

Here you were, standing in the middle of the living room of your apartment, trying desperately not to laugh at the sight of your dog sitting directly on the chest of your much beleaguered partner.

You hadn’t really considered the consequences of introducing Childe to Lacey. I mean, how badly could the interactions be between the man you were convinced was your soulmate and the nicest golden retriever that had ever existed? If there was going to be issues you’d reasoned it would be on Childe’s side. So when your partner lit up at the mention of your fluffy child, you’d assumed all would be well.

Evidently that was not the case. You knew that Lacey could be clingy on occasion, but she’d really been making an effort these past few weeks. Knocking your partner out of the way when you two walked through the door together, refusing to stop walking when you two met up at a park or on the street, refusing to answer to Childe’s attempts at affection. It was almost impressive, the lengths Lacey was willing to go to establish her position as Number One Childe Hater – especially impressive considered the well-attested competition, including but not limited to a Fatui Harbinger.

Now you sprung into action as best you could, bottling up the giggles that threatened to erupt at any moment.

“Childe!” You exclaimed, walking closer. Lacey still refused to stand up, but her tail thumped excitedly against the floor, and she let out a short whine of appreciation. Unfazed by this cry for praise you sighed. “Lacey! Get up! Honestly, you’re not being a very good testament to your intelligence right now.”

Nudging her slightly you sighed with relief as the golden retriever sprang up, attacking your hands and face with kisses as you dragged Childe up to a sitting position. Childe at least seemed unfazed by the sudden attack, letting out a mere “oof”, and smiling a slightly embarrassed smile.

“I’m really sorry about this Childe.” You said, hands still batting away Lacey’s frantic activity as she attempted to get you to focus on her.

“It’s alright. Just, wow she’s a heavier girl than I expected.”

“Hopefully no squished organs?”

“Archons no! It’ll take more than this girl to fell me, don’t you worry.” Childe attempted to give Lacey a pet, but the dog that had just before been laying all over him now scampered out of the way, instead pawing at your back.

“Lacey! Stop being so rude! Urgh, and here I was hoping that you two would be somewhat settled before I went on my trip.”

You sighed, letting your head drop into the palms of your hand, not wanting to think about what might happen during the week and a half that Childe would be required to take care of Lacey. Would she even let him in the apartment to feed her? What about walks and the like? Were you going to come home to all our warfare? Childe seemed to understand your quickly dropping mood, placing a hand on your shoulder and rubbing small circles with his thumb, even as Lacey whined and began pawing at his arm.

“I promise it’ll be alright my dear. We’ll manage while you’re gone and who knows? Maybe by the time you get back we’ll be thick as thieves, and then you’ll be the one getting sat on.”

“Who knows.” You let out a burst of laughter. But even as you two shared this moment of levity your mind continued to spin its threads, dreading the days to come and what you’d be presented with the day you got back.

 “Alright, what’re we going to do.”

Childe stood in the foyer, hands on his hip, irritation in his heart. Lacey seemed to be mimicking the gesture, chest puffed out proudly as she stared the Harbinger down. They must’ve been standing like that for at least ten minutes, Childe thought to himself, ten minutes of staring and nothing yet done. It was beginning to grate on him, and were it not for the fact that you’d have to pay for damages, he was quite tempted to vault over the nearby furniture, if only so he could get to the kitchen and have this miserable showdown be over.

He didn’t dislike Lacey, no Childe didn’t think he could truly dislike any dog if he tried. He used to dream of owning a wolf pup, of flopping around in the snow with his companion, running as fast as he could and still being chased down with a crash, before being bombarded by affectionate pawing and kisses. These memories seemed quite silly when faced with the reality of caring for a dog however, and now he wanted only to bang his head against the wall, and maybe pass out from the exertion.

“I get that you love your owner.” He spoke again, how long had he been talking to this dog? “But I don’t think this is the way to win their heart.”

Lacey said nothing, simply narrowing her eyes and letting out a slightly hiss. Still Childe continued on.

“And like it or not you are going to have to eat eventually. So I suggest if you’re going to misbehave, that you should at least do it on a day when I’m not your primary caretaker.”

When there was still no movement from Lacey Childe sighed. That evening when he returned to his own apartment it was with the unfortunate knowledge that golden retriever bites hurt a lot more than he’d expected them too.

 It was storming, and the city of Liyue had transformed from a glistening city to one of mud and rusted iron. Childe swore under his breath as he pulled his coat closer around him, desperately trying to keep as dry as possible. Who knew if he’d be able to make it to your bedroom and grab one of his spare shirts with Lacey acting like he was a burglar instead of well known acquaintance? The song and dance between the two of them was grating. Feeding your golden retriever being nearly impossible, not to mention the times when Childe half dragged Lacey through the most half assed of walks. Really how could such a gentle spirit turn so stubborn so quickly? Childe didn’t know, all he knew was that the sooner you came home the sooner he could stop worry about being nipped at the heels.

The sight that met Childe at the entrance to your apartment was jarring. Instead of the usual irritated dog Childe was met with utter silence, and a stillness that betrayed the fact that not only was Lacey not in the hall, but she was also avoiding the kitchen and the living room.

“Lacey?” Childe called out, getting no answer but the whipping of wind and the rumble of thunder. “I swear if you managed to run off – Lacey!”

Going further down the hall Childe finally heard the sound of muffled whimpering. Walking into your bedroom he spied Lacey under the bed, eyes filled not with disdain, but with anxiety.

“Lacey, why in Teyvat are you here?”

There was no reply, until suddenly another clap of thunder shook the walls. Lacey let out a yelp and crawled under the bed a little more, flattening her head against the floor, although there was not much room left in that department. Childe stared at this for a second letting the pieces fall into place. He just couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that this was the same Lacey who so fearlessly guarded the apartment against his entrance every day.

This slight smugness was extinguished rather quickly though, instead replaced with a sense of pity, and the need to make this poor girl feel the least bit better.

“Hey, hey it’ll be alright.” Childe spoke softly. For a moment he left the room, but quickly he returned, towels and blankets in hand, praying that you wouldn’t mind that he messed up your closet a little bit.

“Let’s make a fort, shall we?”

Not waiting for any sort of acknowledgment Childe began to pile up the covers on your bed, making sure to lay down towels in case you were worried of shedding. At first Lacey did nothing much than scooch out enough to watch him, but within the next flash of lightning she was up and moving, diving under the makeshift fort and clambering around Childe, as if trying to find out if she could burrow through the Harbinger.

“I know, I know, it’s pretty scary out there, huh?” Childe ruffled Lacey’s head slightly. “But you’ll see, it’ll pass soon enough. And then we can go back to fighting, alright.”

Lacey let out a whine, but nevertheless began to settle down, lying down and once more resting her head on her paws.

“There’s a good girl.” Childe smiled softly. “You aren’t that bad you know. At least you aren’t that bad when you’re not trying to bite my leg off.”

Your surprise at the improvement in Childe-Lacey relations was somewhat immense when you returned. Though Childe refused to say what had managed to form such a bond between your disgruntled pet and him, only that he hoped you didn’t mind dog hair on your bed. Lacey, for her part, no longer tried to sit on your partner.

Even if she still pushed him out of the way when you came home.

 Scaramouche

Scaramouche could deal with a lot of things. He could deal with the fact that your parrot wouldn’t let the man within three feet of the parrot’s cage without attempting to bite his hands off. He could deal with the obnoxiously loud clicking whenever he got too close to you, and he could deal with fact that your parrot was fond of yelling random phrases at him in the most aggressive tone Scaramouche had ever heard. Scaramouche could deal with all of that. What he couldn’t deal with is what your parrot insisted on calling him, no matter how much time was spent saying: “Scaramouche. I am Scaramouche!”

“Electro boy? Really?”

“I’m sorry Scara,” you let out a giggle, “I didn’t know what your name was when I first saw you.”

Oh Scaramouche was sure of that, but did that really mean that Oliver had to call him solely by that title? It didn’t help that you must’ve referred to Scaramouche an awful lot as “Electro Boy” for it to be the name that stuck in Oliver’s mind. And regardless of how many times you used the title, it was one thing for you to use the nickname. It was quite another thing for Oliver to, since, unlike in your case, Oliver’s use of “Electro Boy” could be nothing but derogatory.

Scaramouche had long given up in wooing the errant parrot over. If they were to be mortal enemies, so be it. He’d dealt with that before.

“Oh Scaramouche, you must be joking!” You’d exclaimed when he’d revealed this train of thought, cupping his face in your hand and pressing affectionate kisses to his face. He’d let you do so, let you imagine that one day there might be a reconciliation. But in his heart he knew. Unless Oliver learned to stop with the name calling, Scaramouche would never forgive him for the insult.

“I wish you would write.” You whispered.

Pain skirted through Scaramouche’s face, but still he refused the promise that you needed. You knew that Scaramouche would never be able to have a normal relationship with you, that these trips were necessary, were a part of him that you’d never be able to wrench away. Still, the least he could do was promise to write. Without his writings, well how could you even be sure he was alive?

“I’m sorry.” Scaramouche whispered. Leaning in so your foreheads were touching he let out a sigh, warming your lips with his breath. “I cannot promise I will write. I wouldn’t like to break a promise to you.”

“I know.” You whispered back, shaking your head as much as you could. “Still, I’d almost rather a broken promise.”

“You wouldn’t. I know it would drive you mad.”

“Perhaps, but better than nothing?”

You two stood there, basking in silence. A familiar cry broke the reverie.

“Electro Boy! Electro Boy!” A series of clicks accompanied the sudden shriek. There was no better way to break the spell. Almost immediately Scaramouche pulled away. Walking towards the door he paused, turning around one more time.

“I’ll miss you.”

Those words washed over you, their owner having been carried away with the wind.

 Scaramouche hurried up the steps, anticipation keep his pace quick and his thoughts a jumble of fragments. The long mission he’d been sent on was finally over, and now he could think not of noisy soldiers, nor of the people who continually disappointed him, but of you. He couldn’t wait, every step on the staircase felt like an obstacle, something he must triumph against to reach you. Finally arriving at your door he barely paused, stepping this way and that as he opened the door before striding into the hallway as fast as he could.

“I’m home.” He called into the afternoon light. Almost immediately two things happened. One was that you leapt off your position on the couch, practically barreling yourself into his arms. The second was that Oliver began to screech, hopping from one foot to the other in an indecipherable dance.

“Scara, you’re home!” You cried, exclamation by the way you buried your face into his shoulder.

“Scara! Scara! Scaramouche!” Oliver echoed. The words made Scaramouche freeze up, taken aback as he was by their usage.

“What was that Oliver?” He called out, not altogether sure if the parrot would even reply to him. Scaramouche had really only referred to Oliver by name the first time he met him. After that you had to settle with “the bird” or “the noisemaker”. This time, however Scaramouche couldn’t help but use it. This was, after all, a matter of great importance.

“Scaramouche, Scaramouche, who’s a pretty bird?” Oliver tittered irreverently.

His tone was still somewhat sharp, Scaramouche never heard Oliver snap at you the way he did him, but nevertheless the words had struck a chord. Finding himself at a loss for words Scaramouche stared at you, trying to figure out what was going on.

“That’s probably my fault,” you laughed hesitantly, “I guess I was talking about you more than I thought. It’s only that, well I missed you an awful lot. And Oliver is my confidante, he always has been. So I guess I’ve just been talking a lot to him about you. I’ve really missed you…”

Scaramouche felt his heart soften. Leaning over he pressed a kiss to your forehead, much to the indignation of Oliver, who twittered away as normal. Still, it was better than it had been before. And, if Scaramouche could admit it to himself, he didn’t mind the idea of you pouring out to Oliver how much you missed him. It made him feel important, feel whole. And if your rude bird had helped at all, then Scaramouche could find it in him to respect Oliver, though only a little.

“I’m glad you thought of me.” He whispered to you. “And I’m glad you still had a confidante to talk to.”

And if the result was a parrot who no longer called him “Electro Boy”, then all the better.

 Xiao

Honestly Xiao couldn’t really see the appeal of pets. Something that was only cemented when he met your cat.

“And this is Honey.” You’d said softly, picking up the orange feline and cradling her in your arms. The cat made no sounds, instead it stared straight at Xiao, eyes narrow, gaze untrusting. Xiao was equally out of depths in this matter. What was he supposed to do? Pet it, presumably. Reaching out with hesitant fingers Xiao almost immediately pulled away, dodging an onslaught of clawing.

Ever since then there seemed to have been an odd hierarchy established, at least in Honey’s mind. She never let Xiao sit next to you, oh no, that would’ve been too generous. Instead Honey squeezed into the space between you two, no matter how small and wow was it small sometimes, meowing angrily as Xiao passed his arm over her head to hold your hand. Sometimes she’d try the tactic of walking all over you, lying on your lap, wrapping herself around your shoulders, and all the time glaring at Xiao as if he’d brought some sort of catastrophe on her for daring to try and get close to you.

“Your cat hates me.”

“She does not!” You exclaimed. “Honey doesn’t hate anyone! She just needs to get used to you.”

“She hates me. She thinks I’m beneath her.”

Xiao glared up at Honey, who was looming over the conversation via the bookshelf in your bedroom. Honey’s eyes narrowed and for a moment Xiao felt as if he’d somehow spilled the cat’s secrets. It wasn’t his fault that he knew what she was thinking. After all, hadn’t Xiao been like that for a time? An ornery soul who found most interactions beneath him? Who knew he’d be on the receiving end of that relationship someday. He certainly didn’t appreciate it now.

“You just need to get used to one another.” You continued to assure Xiao. “Honey’s a little bit possessive. It’s nothing personal. She’ll get over it.”

Well it’d been four weeks since that conversation and unfortunately Honey showed exactly zero signs of “getting over it”. Though perhaps she wasn’t clawing at him anymore, maybe because you’d actually scolded her for it, the gaze never left her eyes. The fact that she meowed loudly whenever Xiao made more contact than hand holding also didn’t help her case.

 Xiao sighed, staring at the sky as the sun began its descent beyond the peaks of Liyue. A cluster of trees ringed the back part of your house – trees apparently planted by your grandparents – and Xiao enjoyed perching in them to watch the sunset.

“At least here the cat will leave me alone.” He muttered.

It’d been a tiring day. Honey had been in a particularly bad mood – probably the result of Xiao staying the night – and the atmosphere in the house had become somehow so tense that Xiao figured taking a hike wouldn’t be a bad idea. Even if he found the whole exercise a bit demeaning.

“I’m losing to a cat.” Xiao called flatly out into the air. There was no reply of course, but he didn’t mind that. Imagine what his fellow adepti would think of him now, flailing around, trying to win the affections of a furball whose favorite pastime was being as irritating as possible.

Now Xiao heard a familiar yowl. Glancing down he spied Honey, hair standing on end, gripping a branch as if her life belonged to it. An old conversation rose to the front of his mind. Something about cats being able to go up trees very easily, but not so much down. What an idiotic creature, he thought to himself.

Still it’d be ill form to leave the poor idiot clutching onto the branch, so fighting his smugness as beset he could Xiao leaned over and attempted to wrench the cat from the branches. Honey let out a series of shrieks, claws digging into the bark, but eventually she relinquished and Xiao pulled her up onto his lap. Almost immediately she began pawing at his chest, meowing her indignancy.

“I know.” Xiao glared at the cat. “But they wouldn’t be very happy if you got stuck.”

As if to reply Honey narrowed her eyes, turning around to look at the skyline, rather than acknowledge the adeptus she was now laying on. Xiao hummed in response.

“You know things would be easier if you weren’t so aggressive.”

A meow in response.

“I don’t understand you. I don’t understand why you’re so territorial.”

Another meow.

“I suppose I’m like that. I also want them to myself. Things would be easier without you clawing at me. But they love you, and that’s what matters. I don’t know why but they do.”

Silence, perhaps Honey was insulted by the way Xiao spoke.

“I can’t say I’ll love you. But I’ll try to like you. As long as you try to like me.”

Silence again, but this time Xiao took it as an assent. Letting out a sigh he turned back towards the horizon, gaze drifting towards the peaks that Honey too was watching with interest. The night was alive with the soft chirps of insects, and a faint breeze ruffled Xiao hair, dancing through Honey’s fur. Xiao let out a sigh and, nemesis on his stomach, allowed himself a little rest.

You stared at the mismatched pair, a smile playing on your lips. How funny they looked, curled up together. Like two cats, one a panther, the other a tabby. And yet somehow the tabby was running the shots.

They look so peaceful, you mused to yourself, who knows what they might be like in the morning.

At the very least, you’d be sure to enquire about the nature of your partner’s conversation with your cat, something which had seemed very important to him.

[fruitcoops]

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do another fic involving jules and coops together? Just like sweet moments between the three? I loved the baby sitting series you did and could not stop thinking about it❤️❤️ Thank you!!

Yeah, of course! I love writing my boy at any opportunity. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but the relatives are my ocs!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sirius asked under his breath as Remus finally—finally—appeared from the mass of people.

“It’s fine,” Remus said around a forced smile to a middle-aged man across the yard.

Sirius hid his mouth by pretending to look down at the nearest casserole dish. He didn’t even know what was in it; nobody had bothered with labels, and everyone’s dishes were the same basic florals in different colors. “I love you, Re, and I totally get the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing, but this is a bit much if I’m being honest.”

“Honey.” Remus’ shoulder pressed against his own. “I’m sorry you’re not having a good time, but my Aunt Jen would skin me alive if I didn’t bring the man I’m marrying to the family reunion. We can leave tomorrow if you really hate—oh, no.”

“Remus!” a shrill, excited voice called. Sirius felt his fiancé straighten up as a tall, redheaded woman in star-painted jeans hurried across the grass with three other women in tow. She reached up and gave Remus’ cheeks a squish, then leaned in a planted a lipstick-stamped kiss to his forehead. “How are you, my duckling? Was your flight alright? Make sure you stay away from the salt or else your feet will swell.”

“Hi, Aunt Jen,” Remus said, grimacing a little at her rib-crushing hug. “I’m doing well, and our flight was fine. How are you?”

“Peachy keen,” she assured him. Dark brown eyes lasered in on Sirius half a second later and he felt his fight or flight kick in. “And who are you?”

“Aunt Jen, this is—”

“It was rhetorical, honey,” Jen interrupted with a pat to Remus’ arm as she stepped closer to Sirius and immediately hauled him in for a hug. She was as tall as Remus, but broader in the shoulders and hips; he had never felt so engulfed by someone. It was a strangely enjoyable feeling.

“Aren’t you a handsome one?” the shortest of the group cooed, as if she was talking to a particularly small dog in a purse. “Our Remus always knew how to pick them.”

Remus furrowed his brows. “Aunt Lisa, this is the first boyfriend I’ve—”

“But he’s not just a boyfriend!” Jen trilled, giving Sirius’ cheek a pat. “He’s a fiancé, something I learned from your mother. Not from your father—oh, I gave him a talking-to about that—and not from you, duck.”

Sirius bit back a laugh at the nickname and spared a glance to his left, where Remus had gone pink all the way to his ears. “Sorry.”

“Introduce us!” the shortest insisted, taking the other two by the hands as pulling them forward with an eager smile.

“Everyone, this is Sirius Black, my fiancé.” Remus gestured between them, and the four women beamed at him. “Sirius, this is Aunt Jen, Aunt Lisa, Aunt Allison, and Aunt Mary, my dad’s sisters.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Sirius said, holding a hand out.

“No need to be so formal,” the brunette grumbled with a teasing grin. “We have heard so much about you from Lyall. After those damned pictures—”

“Allison,” Jen hissed.

“—after the damned pictures,” Allison repeated with a pointed look. “I was about ready to drive up to Gryffindor myself and give that lousy son of a bitch a piece of my mind—”

“Allison!”

“—but Lyall talked me down and I have been waiting to meet you ever since.” She finished with a soft huff and gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Remus is a lucky boy to have you. It’s very exciting to see you in person at last.”

Sirius’ heart gave a happy little ka-thump and he smiled. “I’m glad to be here. Thank you for having me.”

“He is so polite,” Lisa said to Remus out of the corner of her mouth with a wink and a thumbs-up. “Good choice.”

“You know what I just realized? We haven’t said hello to Jules yet. We’ll see you in a few, yeah?” Without waiting for an official answer, Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius’ waist and practically carried him away from the table. Once they were out of earshot—and the aunts had busied themselves with one of the younger Lupins—Remus relaxed with a slow exhale. “I am…so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I had no idea they were going to corner you like that. I mean, I did, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be for another few hours. They tend to move in a pack at reunions, like sharks. Or wolves.”

“They’re really sweet.”

“They are,” Remus said grudgingly, though Sirius could read the affection dripping off him like his favorite book. “My dad’s the youngest of five, and I was the first nephew. You can imagine how that went.”

“Baby of the baby?”

“Exactly.”

“Can I ask one thing?” Remus nodded, visibly confused, and Sirius found he couldn’t keep his grin down any longer. “Duckling?”

“I hoped you didn’t hear that,” he groaned as they headed toward the kids’ play area beneath a large oak. “Long story short, it involved five-year-old me, a pond, and a sinus infection that made me sound like a duck when I sneezed.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius laughed, earning himself a light elbow to the ribs. “And the name stuck?”

“Considering she was the one that had to stay with me while my folks were working, she could call me whatever the hell she wanted. Please don’t ask her about it unless you want a thirty-minute TED talk about the ins and outs of my sinuses.”

“She’s a doctor?”

“No, she just overshares.”

“Sirius!”

Sirius looked up and saw a herd of small children racing toward them, led by his favorite person under the age of eighteen; Jules crashed into his legs and squeezed him tight around the waist. “Hey, I missed you!”

Jules propped his chin below Sirius’ sternum and stared up at him with the classic hazel-gold eyes that were far more common than Sirius believed before they arrived in the Lupins’ backyard. “I missed you, too! How’s the team? How’s Harry? Is he still super small or did he do that weird thing that babies do where their legs grow and the rest of them still looks normal? How was your flight? Did you have turbulence?”

Sirius thought for a moment. “Good, also good, growing normally, and yes.”

“Sweet! Come play cornhole with us!” Jules grabbed his hand and dragged him along the grass at the closest thing he could manage to a sprint with Sirius’ added weight—the pre-teen years had lent him gangly legs, though he didn’t seem quite sure how to use them yet. He looked more like a foal than a sixth-grader.

“What the hell is cornhole?” Sirius muttered as the flock of kids ran ahead to grab armfuls of beanbags.

Remus grinned. “Something I’m about to kick your ass at.”

------------------------------------

By the time the sun set, Sirius was exhausted. He had been introduced to dozens of people who looked just enough like Remus to be eerie, as well as plenty who seemed to have been acquired by one Lupin or another over the course of their life. Jules fluctuated between laminating himself to Sirius’ side and disappearing for an hour at a time, only to return more grass-stained and rumpled than ever as he begged Remus to swing him around by the ankles again. His ass had been thoroughly kicked at cornhole and freeze tag; it was a true miracle he hadn’t already passed out into a food coma. For all of his earlier griping, Sirius couldn’t think of a time in recent months when he had been more content.

“You’re a brave soul,” Remus remarked as they sat in the grass together and watched the fireflies wake. Though it was a warm night, it seemed the citronella candles littering the tables were doing their job of chasing off mosquitoes.

Sirius leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder. He smelled like grass and summertime and sunbaked warmth. “Am I?”

“Mhmm. I’m sure most people would have run screaming by now.”

“I like your family.”

A beat of silence passed; Remus rested his temple against the top of Sirius’ head. “I’m really glad to hear that. They’re weird and loud, but I love them.”

“And I love you.”

“Are you saying I’m weird and loud?”

“On occasion.”

“Asshole,” Remus laughed, giving him a nudge that hardly qualified as more than a gentle sway.

“Language, there are eight million kids around.”

“They’re busy.”

Sirius watched as small group run by in a wave of giggles, all clutching mason jars of fireflies with their names written on masking tape. “Thank you again for asking me to come with you.”

“Like I said, Aunt Jen would—”

“Remus.” He fell quiet. Sirius didn’t remember the last time he said Remus’ full name aloud. “Your family loves you so much. They’re everything I ever wanted growing up, and it means the world that you wanted to share them with me. All they want is to see you happy. It was amazing to finally meet them.”

“They really, really love you,” Remus said softly, his voice a little thick. “I had about twenty people tell me how wonderful you are. They all thanked me for bringing you, and not a single one mentioned the celebrity thing. Even my Uncle Jay didn’t say a word about hockey.”

“He was the one in the jersey?”

“I’ve known him for my entire life and I’ve never seen him without one.”

“Huh.” Sirius tucked his face closer to Remus’ neck and let the sound of the bullfrogs in a distant marsh lull him. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. The adults will be up for a while, but the kids will start crashing soon.”

Footsteps on the cool grass rustled to their right and Sirius looked up. “Who wants pie?” Aunt Allison singsonged, breaking their quiet bubble with paper plates and utensils. “This one is blackberry, but we have peach, pumpkin, and a few others on the table if you’re still hungry.”

“Just a small piece, please,” Sirius said.

Allison paused and cocked her head, then burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re funny!”

“I am?”

“Don’t fight it,” Remus whispered.

“You are a growing boy,” Allison said as she cut a thick slice and plonked it onto his plate. “And there’s no such thing as too much pie.”

I’m 26, Sirius wanted to say, though he held it in. “Just a small one for me, as well,” Remus said.

“Ha!” Allison snorted. “You’re already too skinny. Eat your pie or you’ll end up a string bean like your father. The NHL might have given you muscle, but it’s useless if you don’t enjoy some of your favorite aunt’s—”

“—woah, hey now—”

“—pie once in a while.” Allison kissed the tops of their heads once both plates were secure and bowing in the middle. “I’m going to make sure the kids aren’t poking around in the river again. Sleep well, you two.”

Sirius stared down at his plate as she wandered away. “I’m honestly going to die if I eat this.”

“Yeah, please don’t make yourself sick on pie. You really don’t have to eat all of that. The aunts and uncles are convinced that none of us are eating properly once we turn eighteen.”

“Really?”

“I wish I was kidding. You’re going to sleep so well tonight, though.”

As if on cue, Sirius stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and cuddled under Remus’ arm again. A familiar shadow bounded over not two seconds later and he barely held down a groan. “Hey, can I join you?”

Remus shrugged. “ ‘course.”

“Sweet.” Jules settled himself across their laps, staring at the sky with his head pillowed on Sirius’ thigh. “Did you have fun? I’m really glad you could come.”

“I had a great time,” Sirius answered honestly. Now please move on so I can take a nap.

“Mom and dad and me got here yesterday, and Aunt Jen kept checking the door for you guys even though she knew you weren’t coming until today. She was worried you wouldn’t like us, I think.”

“That was never an option, Jules.”

“Yeah, I know.” A devilish grin flickered over his face. “Remus is the weirdest of all of us, and if you want to marry him—”

“Get off,” Remus grumbled, shoving Jules’ legs onto the picnic blanket. “You know, you were a lot nicer before you turned eleven. Can I return you and get a new one? I have the receipt somewhere.”

“Nope.”

“That’s all a birth certificate is, right?” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “If you bring it back in good condition, I hear they give you a ten percent discount.”

Jules scowled. “That’s so not true.”

“How do you think I got Regulus?”

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Remus asked with a pointed look. “Run along, problem child.”

“Of the two of us, I’m the least problematic.” Despite his words, Jules clambered to his feet and dusted his hands off over Remus’ head. “I’m not the one that got a secret boyfriend and got engaged in a year. I’m so easy. Mom and dad want two of me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Remus sighed as he stretched out on the blanket. “They had a second kid because they wanted two of me.”

“You’re adopted.”

Remus cracked one eye open in disbelief. “No, I’m not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because���y’know what, go to bed. Or go find the stampede, I think they’re by the river.”

Sirius whistled lowly as Jules scampered off again. “That was impressive. Isn’t your aunt over there?”

“Yep.”

Realization clicked into place. “She’s going to make him go to bed.”

“Yep.”

“You’re brilliant.”

Remus smiled without opening his eyes, and tugged Sirius down by the sleeve to lay next to him. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

The stars were brighter than anywhere Sirius had ever seen; for a moment, he was struck speechless by the endless rivers of sparkling white overhead. He stared until his eyes burned from dryness, then put his head on Remus’ chest and kept on looking. There was no way he could tear his gaze from it. A few shooting stars streaked across the clear sky and he felt his heart skip a beat in pure amazement when he realized there was nothing else he would wish for in that moment. He could listen to Remus’ heartbeat and the sound of his new family talking against a backdrop of the night, relishing in a full belly and cool wind, and simply stay there for as long as he liked.

[modx-reborn]

A Lesson in Country Fun

Soooooo that Sam blurb that I did…

Here is the whole thing! Have fun with a country boy, Farmer Sam.

SMUT UNDERCUT! MINORS DNI!

You’d never ridden a tractor before, let alone driven one, so when your neighbour a farmer, and creeper hybrid, by the name of Sam, came over and offered to teach you, of course, you agreed. Tractors seemed to be one of the primary modes of transportation out in the country, and though you had just moved out here it wouldn’t be long until you had one as well. They could handle the rough roads better than most carts, though they were slow as hell.

You had nothing better to do this weekend anyway.

The two of you started in the morning, with him showing you all the knobs and pedals. It was a bit confusing, but he would explain as many times as you asked, though sometimes you caught a condescending look flash across his face. He made sure you knew what each did before he had you climb up onto the seat beside him, squishing the two of you together, and making you watch him.

You had to look away several times and compose yourself; he had taken his shirt off in the afternoon heat, between that and the seat vibrating beneath you there was little in the way of stopping your building arousal. By the end of the day, you’d watched him drive along three miles of empty road and there was likely no saving your underwear.

The next day was even hotter than before, so it’s easy to pass over the usual t-shirt and jeans combo and wear a sundress instead.

You wait for him on the edge of the field that separated your houses, Sam showing not long after you take a seat on the dividing fence, the rumbling of the tractor far preceding him. At his invitation you climb up into the wide seat with him, scooting away from the edge until your side is pressed fully against his.

There isn’t any kind of conversation in the ten minutes it took us to reach an abandoned side road. It wasn’t the same one we had visited yesterday, this road looks far rougher like it hadn’t seen any people in years. Pulling to a stop just after turning onto the road, the sound of the tractor and the birds are the only things to fill the air, dirt crunching under your feet when you jump off to stretch your legs.

Sam had told you at the end of yesterday’s ride that he would give you a chance to practice actually driving and there were more than a few nerves building around that idea. Suddenly, he clapped his hand on your shoulder. “C’mon,” nodding his head at the driver’s seat. There’s was something…intense about his expression that you can’t quite pin.

When you turned back to look at him he was still staring up at you. Maybe it was the way his eyes crinkled or the way he flicked his gaze up, but somehow you knew he had been looking up your dress. He climbed up beside you, voice slow and steady as he coached you through how to turn on the tractor and release the brake.

“Good girl,” murmured in your ear as you follow his instructions. Slowly, the tractor crawled down the road, the terrain was rough meaning you bounced in the seat, giving a startled laugh when a particularly large stone rocked you into Sam.

He sighed and motioned for you to halt. “These seats are just way too cramped.”

“Here,” patting his lap, “go ahead and sit here.” He said it with a matter-of-factness that you couldn’t argue with. You stood, bending over the steering wheel to try and give the large hybrid as much room as possible to slide under you.

Jerking slightly, startled, when you felt his hands on your clothed hips. The skirt of your dress billowing around you when seated, leaving bare thighs to press against his jeans. His arms wrapped around your middle. “Go ahead and get her going,” lips brushing against your ear.

Starting our slow pace again, breathing picking up pace as the rough road bounced you in his lap. We had barely made it a quarter-mile when he moved one of his hands, resting it on your knee.

“I know you like me.” The bluntness catching you off guard and making your foot slam down on the brake. Before you could even try to stammer out a response he was speaking again.

“You wanna know how I know?” Breathless, and embarrassed, you nod.

He leaned further into you, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hand slipping past the hem of your dress. “You left a wet little mess for me on the seat yesterday,“ his finger slid under the waistband of your underwear, snapping them against your skin.

His other hand rising up and brushing against your chest. “You know, one of the most important things about driving is not letting yourself get distracted.” His hand squeezed your thigh, startling you only half as much as the change in topic.

“Um…”

Your words lost quickly as Sam presses kiss after kiss to your neck, any coherent thought you might’ve had tumbling out of your head, the only one lingering being ’When did he remove his mask?’. With a quick nip against your ear, he is whispering to you ‘Stand up.’

When you do you hear the jingle of a belt buckle and the shifting of the fabric. The noises felt like physical things, kissing the backs of your thighs, you hear him let out a deep breath and jump when his hands ghost up your hips under your dress.

The steering wheel bites into your stomach and your arms bracing against the warm hood were the only things that kept you semi-upright. Warm fingers hooked in the waistband of your underwear and slowly but surely working them down your thighs, one of his hands leaves you only to be followed by the sound of him spitting.

With the hand still gripping your hip, he guides you back into his lap.

Grabbing onto the steering wheel and squeaking when you feel the first nudge of his cock against your entrance. There was light pressure at first, but then as he kept pressing in teasing you with the potential feeling of him filling you. Smothering a sound behind your teeth, when he lightly began bouncing you on the tip of his cock, the blunt head barely entering you before pulling out to just press back in again.

Letting out a breathy whine, loud in the empty air.

Sam gives a little laugh and placed his other hand back on your hip. “Whiny little thing aren’t you?” His hands reaching down to spread you wide with his thumbs, making the slide of his cock into you smoother. With firm hands, he slowly works you down his length, making small movements to stretch you and take him, pressing you down slightly, then bouncing you back up only to sink into you deeper.

With a deep groan, he finally buried his cock fully in you. “Just like that. Just like that…” wrapping his arms around your waist.

Your head felt stuffed full of cotton when he pulls his hands away, fixing the skirt of your sundress until the sight of him buried in you, was completely hidden. Even sliding your underwear up to hide them beneath the hem.

“Let’s test how well you drive while distracted, gotta make sure you’re road-ready after all.”

[thegoldencatscafe]

Axia's Secret Santa Collab

For the lovely @stellumi!

CW: Fluffy fluff fluff! 3 drabbles featuring Gorou, Yoimiya and Itto being all cozy and domestic! ( ꈍᴗꈍ)

A/N: I'm terribly sorry I couldn't provide something better (╥_╥) My university entrance exam was on the 19th, and I only got some time to work on these on the 21st... Still, I hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!

GN!Reader.

Sleeping in with a dog boy...

Prompt: Lazy Mornings

You're not entirely sure how long you'd been awake - or half-awake, for that matter -, but the combination of the gentle sunlight on your skin, the warm sheets surrounding you and your lovely boyfriend's tail wrapped around your waist, getting up didn't seem like a good idea.

You heard shuffling, and a pair of arms dragged you forward, locking you against Gorou's chest. You chuckled, turning around to face your boyfriend.

"Mornin'", you muttered, running your fingers through his wild hair.

Gorou only groaned in response, nuzzling into you further when your nimble hands found their way to his ears. 

His tail was now wagging, thumping against you softly. You couldn't help but laugh, squishing Gorou's reddening cheeks with your hands - much to his protests. 

"Where are you going?" He muttered, his grip tightening on your waist when he felt you shift away from him.

"Gotta pee," you muttered back, shimmying off his iron grip and leaving the bed with a kiss to his nose.

You'd come back to bed in a bit. Lazy mornings with Gorou were too rare for your taste, and you were going to enjoy every single second of it.

Words cannot describe your serendipity

Prompt: Quiet Moments

Yoimiya was not a quiet person. By her own philosophy, idle chatting is to enjoy your life to the fullest - and so she did, talking and humming and singing her way through her days.

There were only two things that rendered Yoimiya completely and utterly silent: the fleeting beauty of hundreds of fireworks working as one, and your resting face.

While you, none the wiser, slept peacefully on the couch, nuzzling into your throw blanket, Yoimiya stood frozen. 

It was the same as a firework show, she mused, slowly making her way to kneel near your sleeping form. It felt the same to her: she wouldn't dare to taint this experience by talking. She wanted to absorb it fully - study every feature of you and commit it to memory forever. To burn your image permanently into her retinas, as if possible to absorb your essence and carry it inside her heart until the day she died. 

She smiled as your brows furrowed, a pout forming on your lips. Slowly bringing her hand to caress your head, she could feel how you leaned into her even while asleep. Slowly your frown melted, and your face was safely cradled between her soft and warm palms.

Yoimiya was silent, and you kept dreaming, none the wiser.

Who would've thought Itto's next big challenger would be your grandma's honey cake?

Prompt: Baking together

"Uh. What?"

You bit your lip, trying to maintain your composure. 

"Honey cake, Itto. It's a family recipe."

"No, yeah I got that," the large man leaned forward, staring at the recipe. "Why are there no steps?"

"Family recipe. I'm lucky that there are even actual measures here, and not just 'pinches' or something like that." 

Itto rubbed his face, watching you zip around the kitchen expertly while he sat on his ass in the middle of the kitchen island. 

You threw a little bag in his direction, and he caught it.

"What's this?"

"Cloves. Get the mortar and crush three for me, mkay?" You smirked, washing the flour off of your hands. 

Itto nodded, a look of pure determination on his face. You looked away for a second, and then was met with an Itto staring daggers into the mortar.

"Babe…" 

He looked up. "Yes?"

You squinted. "Do you know how to use a mortar?"

He scoffed. "Of course I know how to use a mortar! What do you take me for, an idiot?" He paused for a second. "Don't answer that."

You threw your hands up, laughing, as if to say "i didn't do anything". 

"Course I know how to use a mortar," you could hear him mumbling, "stupid bowl ain't gonna defeat me…"

Silence. And then a concerning knock made you close your eyes in utter exasperation.

"Itto, dear," you turned around again, "please don't punch the cloves. The pestle is right there."

This was going to be a long day.

[misstressshelby]

Lost Boy

Summary: You try your best to take care of the youngest Shelby and put him on the right track

Warnings: Language ( I really like the work fuck lol)

Word Count:1.358

Paring: Tommy/Reader (Reader is GN)

(A/N This is completely self-indulgent but while rewatching S2 I just got the urge to take care of Finn. He's just a baby and he deserved way better...also I have no idea how to UK school system works)

You hadn’t been married to Thomas Shelby for long, going on six months next week. You two had only known each other a year before he proposed and you had excitedly said yes. The wedding was simple with both families squished into the church. The reception was a different story. Cousins of cousins filled the Garrison and the streets outside. The party had gone well into the next morning. Long after you and Tommy had left, lost in yourselves and the thought of consummating the marriage.

You had taken up helping in the betting shop alongside Esme after your wedding. Slowly you were welcomed into the family meetings and dinners. Now you were ushered into the nook at the pub with open arms and jokes shared between the brothers. While you were getting closer to the Shelbys you still weren’t blood. You and Esme sat in on the meeting but never said a word. Occasionally you’d both share knowing looks or whisper about ongoings in private.

You had noticed during this time how the youngest Shelby was left unsupervised. Often forgotten in the chaos of Peaky business.

“Does Finn not go to school?” you asked your husband one night as you laid in bed.

“What good would it do? The boy can’t even read?” he chuckled before getting up to light another cigarette.

“We could get him a tutor, Tommy. We can afford it now.” You got up with him preparing for a fight.

“Where does he even stay most days Tommy? I always see him running around the street following Isaiah or in the pub. He should be in school getting an education.” You were starting to work yourself up now. Tommy just sat on the edge of your bed rubbing his hands down his face before tugging on his hair.

“I’ll deal with it.” He grunted and left for his office.

For the next couple of weeks, you saw Finn around the house more, usually in search of food. You had started sitting with him and eating the dinner Tommy would let get cold. You couldn’t help but grow fond of the freckled face smiling up at you. He would always wind up sweet-talking you into giving him desert. After these dinners, you had started sitting with Finn. Both of you would open a book and let him slowly sound out words for himself. You had set up a bedroom for him in one of the spare rooms. You slept better knowing he was safe at night. But it didn’t last.

It was payday so you and the other workers were at the Garrison drinking the money away. The other girls and you had downed a bottle of gin within an hour. You were tasked with getting another in the back of the pub. There you saw the lanky redhead bent over a table cutting Tokyo with an older peaky boy.

“OI, WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?’ You screamed seeing red.

The other boy ran off leaving Finn alone looking as if he’d seen a ghost.

“I-I was just having some fun. Me and boys-’ he stuttered out.

“Fun?! You’re not old enough to have fucking fun. Do you know what that shit does to your head eh? ”You marched over to him and grabbed the blue bottle out of his hands.

“The boys do it when we’re blue sometimes is all.” He winced when you grabbed him by the ear. Dragging him out of the busy pub ignoring the looks from the others you started towards the shop. The door bounced off the wall, shaking the pictures that hung there.

“Sit!” You pointed at the couch in the middle of the living room.

You found Tommy where you’d left him leaned over his desk with a cigarette in his hand. He looked up with his eyebrows pulled together as you barged in.

“Do you know where I found this eh?” You threw the small bottle at him, “ You fucking brother yeah was cutting it up. Fourteen-fucking-years old and doing snow Tommy?! You said you’d handle it.”

“I did-” He started with a drag off his smoke.

“Does it look handled to you, Tommy? Now I’ve tried not to say anything cus I know I’m not blood” Tommy scoffed at that. “But that boy needs some guidance before he ends up on the fucking streets.” You continued pointing towards the door.

“Yeah? Do you think I don't have enough going on?! I can’t run the bloody business, deal with London, Campbell, and chase after Finn all fucking day can I?!” Thomas got out of his chair.

“No you can’t Tom but we can’t just let him run wild either.” You lowered your voice a bit. Yelling at each other would get you nowhere but the silent treatment.

“Then what do you want me to fucking do?” Tommy lowered his voice too but the harshness remained.

“I want him to move in with us. I’m going tomorrow and signing him up for school. We’ll find him a tutor. He’ll have some catching up to do but that's fine.” You crossed your arms across your chest and continued. “He is a smart, sweet boy and it'll be over my dead body that he doesn't do something with ‘is life. He will graduate from school. If he wants to go to uni afterward then he’ll do that too.”

You closed the space between you and your husband grabbing his jaw before kissing him. You felt him relax a bit under you.

“Isn’t that the point of all this? So they can have a better life than us? Finn can have the things we only dreamed of.” Looking into his blue eyes you pleaded with yours.

“ He’ll move in tomorrow and you sign him up for Saint Andrews yeah.” He kissed your temple before leaving out the door to Finn.

It wasn’t easy taking in a teenage boy much less making him go to school. There were many nights spent screaming about homework or crying over mathematics.

But it was worth it because you loved your little family. After you moved out of Birmingham and into Arrow House things got a little better. You got Finn away from the older boys he worshiped. Tommy found him a tutor who came three days a week.

He wouldn’t admit it but he liked having Finn around the house too. The three of you had dinner as a family every night at your repeated request. Tommy and Finn would often ride horses together on the weekends.

You sat reading in the library when you heard Finn running through the halls.

“OI, where do you think you’re going?” You asked as you rounded the corner into the living room.

“A level marks were posted today, yeah? Let me see?” You held out your hand out expectantly. The young boy, well a man now, rocked back on his feet and avoided your gaze.

“It’s okay if you didn’t pass Finn, lots of people have to retake the exams.” You softly smiled.

Finn Arthur Shelby

Writing-B

Reading-A

Arithmetic-C

Nature Study-B

WoodWork-A

“You passed Finn!” You squealed while jumping up and down shaking the paper in the air. You hugged the boy that now towered over you and shook him too. Tommy ran into the room with Mary right behind.

“What? What’s happened?” Your husband asked with wide eyes.

Turning to him with a smile still on your face you started jumping again, “He passed! He passed!”

Tommy looked at Finn who was now grinning too, a blush on his face from the attention. Tom just put a hand on his shoulder and gave a slight nod of his head. That was the equivalent of the show you were putting on for Tommy.

“Finn we are so proud of you! You’ve worked so hard. I’ll have the cook make the custard you like for dessert to celebrate.” You kissed the redhead on the cheek. As you left to tell the cook of your plans you looked back at your two boys sharing a rare embrace. You couldn’t help but feel pride in the man you saw before you.

[ohheyitsokay]

cuddle puddles

this takes place in my ‘poly frontier’ universe

a continuation of this thought from @scribbledghost

pairing: Will “Ironhead” Miller, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Francisco “Catfish Morales, Ben “Benny” Miller and a female reader

wordcount: .8k

warnings: all fics in this series are 18+, poly relationship, domestic, romantic, and implications of sexual intimacy, fluff

summary: just some little cuddly scenes with the boys

>>

Santi likes the weight of you on his thighs, but he also likes when you’re in-between them like you are now. Really in any form, but when your hands are rubbing over them and you're leaning all your weight against his chest and he can wrap his arms around your middle? That, to Santi, is nearly heaven.

He hasn’t said any words in awhile, he thinks maybe if you fall asleep like this it will make a perfect day, but he doesn’t get it. At least, not yet.

Because Benny enters loudly, before abruptly hushing, big eyes softening in adoration. You’re not asleep, for all your eyes were closed, and you can hear the gentle kiss, the whispered question.

“Of course,” the man behind you says, and you’re already opening your eyes, unfurling for them both.

If there’s one thing Benny will always need at the end of his long days, it’s to lay against the soft skin of a stomach, and to feel the hands of his lover’s run over his scalp and skin. You accept it greedily, as does Santi, never one to deny the others. After all, what could be more perfect, if not two of you, lounging within reach of his love?

Three? Four.

Will and Frankie enter silently, the former settling next to Santi, likely bumping noses. The latter kisses Ben and then you, before flopping onto Will. His hand takes over gently kneading Santi’s thigh, the brown of his hair fluffy - from Will's touches, you’re sure.

Thankfully, it’s a summer night and blankets are superfluous, tucked over legs as pillows are shuffled, hoping you'll drift off. It wont last – the position would be unfair to Will and Santi, making sit up all night. But for now, it’s perfect. As your hand stills on Benny’s neck, Will takes it, holds it like he regrets not pushing to touch you more.

You kiss each of his knuckles, feeling Santi's approving rumble.

-

He knows he needs it but Frankie is stubborn. He would never tell Benny outright to leave him alone, but he feels like he should –

But he doesn’t get the chance, because Ben, the youngest and maybe the most determined, has already tackled him.

Frankie feels squished, crushed under the comforting weight of a giant, over-eager underground fighter. And he feels his indignation evaporating each second that your laughter joins the other’s.

Benny rolls and twists, until his leaner stomach is over and perpendicular to the softer one below, and takes out his phone – a clear signal he’s not going anywhere.

Maybe there are words that could get the others on his side, but just this once, Frankie's deep brown eyes and fluffy eyebrows aren’t enough.

Will just shrugs, lifting his brothers legs to lay by the brunette, planting kisses on his temple as he shares the weight.

Tossing Ben a pillow so blood doesn’t fill his sweet, well-intentioned head, you cant help but hold back, if just for a moment. The remaining man by your side has a glint in his eye that you’ve come to recognize.

With equal gusto, he finds a way to hover over Frankie, giving him a slow, distracting kiss, before lowering his entire weight. Both men beneath him groan, hands emerging to slap him desperately as Will nearly chokes with laughter.

“Join us, babygirl,” Frankie is attentive even as he’s shoving the others into more comfortable positions.

“Is there room?”

“For you?” Will huffs a much softer chuckle, pushing and pulling limbs strategically.

“Always.”

At some point, Benny’s phone gets tossed away, and you find yourself squished between walls of warmth, you head tucked into a soft brown beard.

“Feeling better?”

A strong arm squeezes your shoulder, and you take that as a yes.

-

“What’s the plan?”

“Shh, Will - you and me.” Benny’s smack on his brother’s bare shoulder his gentle, and he accepts it. Everyone has been gently cleaned, a small heap of clothes and rags making the laundry bin overflow.

There’s a routine, of sorts, almost ready to be unspoken: two get the luxury of laying on their backs, lovers tucked under their arms, three get the pleasure of settling into sturdy sides, making pillows on chests filled with happily beating hearts.

You end up mostly laying on Ben, legs tangling with Santi as he yawns.

Whispers declare their love, well wishes for the dreams to come, and the men around you roll and shift. It’s a puzzle, poured onto the plane of mattress every night, but you all have learned by now – you fit together. Once upon a time, it was a matter of patience but now? Even complicated things get easier after a thousand times.

The weight of arms is comforting, tethering you to this unforeseen reality, and you think you know who’s who. Half smiling into the spatter of hair on Benny’s neck as you match each hand to a quiet snore.

<<

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

poly frontier taglist: @grogusmum

[atzsslut]

requested by @let-this-be-a-lesson from this, and this list.

chosen prompt(s) : 

#1 - “Is that my sweater?”

#11 - “If you were my boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

pairing : bang chan x fem ! reader

genre : fluff 

warnings : long time best friends, very obvious crushing, kind of more than friends (unidentified relationship) to lovers, implied slow burn 

word count : 2.4k words

You promised to meet Chan almost an hour ago. 

The adrenaline coursed through your body as you ran out of the bathroom after a shower, which was relatively dangerous but you didn’t care, sprinting back to your room to get into some decent clothing. 

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you almost punched it from the frustration. But you didn’t, of course, as if you didn’t have enough bad luck already.  

Are you that stupid to have fallen asleep on the couch? You thought to yourself. You were much too thankful that you already washed your hair in the morning, so it looked good enough now. 

As you dropped your towel, you swore that you’ve never grabbed such a mismatched set of underwear and bra before, but it didn’t matter. You’d opt yourself to become quicksilver if it was for Chan. 

Your hands let themselves skim through until your phone lit up on top of your cupboard and showed three notifications from the man himself. You froze in your spot reading the following messages. 

chan: okay :( if u insist [5:02 PM]

chan: but since u seem tired [5:03 PM]

chan: i’ll pick u up since i’m only 10 mins away [5:03 PM]

Your mind went back to when you had woken up to three missed calls from Chan, various texts asking if you were alright since you never missed a ‘hangout’. At least, that’s what you two always called your frequent meets. 

Your first instinct was to call him back, your voice rather nasally from the blocked nose you always got after sleeping. His kind voice kept replaying in your head;

“Chan, I’m so so sorry-”

“Oh, did you just wake up?”

“I.. yes. Yes I did. I’m so sorry, I fell asleep because I ran a million errands up until 3pm.”

“Hey, no. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Do you want to move our hangout to some other day? I think I’m quite free this week.”

“No, no. I need to see you, honestly. My stress has piled up and it’ll be great to see you. You always cheer me up.”

“I try my best, Y/N. I’ll wait for you as long as you’d like. Go get ready!”

“Will do, Mr. Bang. Thank you so so much!”

The last thing you heard after the call ended was his farewell that was mixed in with his infectious laugh, and that was when you ran towards the shower to get the thin layer of sweat that always came after a nap in the living room.

Your fingers quickly typed away a ‘did god send u down to me as my angel or smthn THANK U BANG CHAN’ before going back to rushing to pick out a nicer outfit. 

Because of him willing to pick you up, you had an extra ten minutes to get ready but your mind was still blank from the adrenaline rush. You had picked yourself out a cream-coloured pleated skirt, but you had no idea what to pair it with until you saw a familiar black sweater pushed to the back of the drawer. 

You weren’t too sure why it was familiar to you, but it was nice enough for you to use with the skirt. For a reason you couldn’t pinpoint, it hugged your body well enough, but the area where you could see the stitch of the shoulders were clearly too broad for you, falling around the middle of your upper arms. 

Strange, you thought, I don’t remember buying this but it’s so comfortable. 

And just like he said, Chan was there in ten minutes, voice heard through your apartment intercom, asking you to come downstairs. Although you tried to ignore it, you were excited just from hearing his voice through that old system speaker. 

Taking the elevator down to the lobby, you smiled seeing the boy standing around, clearly waiting for you to come down, as he kept shifting his feet. 

It was music to his ears as well when he heard you call out his name. Although he would never admit it, or so he thinks, he swore that he heard a hymn whenever ‘Chan’ spilled from your lips. But he shook that away when he reached in for a side hug. 

“Hey you.” he said, “You look awfully fresh for someone who just woke up.”

“I work my magic.” you boasted, not wanting to admit the fuss you made for him. Since Chan was a bit taller than you, not by too much (which you teased him about, but he only let it be because it was you), you held onto him as well by slinging your arm around his waist. 

And as you both walked to the parking lot at the front, stuck together like two pieces of paper with a hefty amount of glue in the middle, that was when Chan stopped right in front of his car. 

You looked at him with concern, thinking that he’d probably left something inside, “Did you forget something?”  

He paused, looking at you with the face he’d make whenever Felix did something strange. That wasn’t new, but you felt flustered when he let you go and stood in front of you, arms crossed, eyes checking out your whole body. 

You looked at him strange, not understanding what he was doing. Your hand only clutched your bag strap harder, not understanding the situation. But before you could say anything, he cut you off. 

“Is that my sweater?”

And the realization hit you. 

A few months ago, Chan had gone to your place to spend some time with you after not getting to meet you for three weeks. But of course, the two of you did not look at the weather forecast when a rainstorm dawned over the whole of Seoul. 

You insisted that Chan should not be driving in this weather in fear of a accident, but he did have to get his car to the indoor parking lot incase it began to hail. However, once he had gotten back, the umbrella you had given him was soaked and so was he, the two of you getting into a hysterical laughing fit at the state he was in. 

In all seriousness, you did quickly get him out of the clothes he was wearing and washed them, shyly looking away when he directly began to take his shirt off in the living room until you yelled “Chan! I have a bathroom!”

However, as the night passed, after he slept in the same bed as you, finding his arm around your waist in the morning to which he quickly pulled away in surprise— he left with only his jeans and socks that had been dry cleaned. 

“Oh shit, this is your sweater!” you swore, the event having replayed itself in your forgetful mind, “I’ll clean it after this and give it back to you.”

“Oh, no. You look better in it than I do.” he complimented. 

In between your reminiscing, he had clicked the car key, making the vehicle make the familiar unlocking sound and flashing lights. Running over to your side, he opened the door for you. 

“M’lady.” he offered, 

“M’Chan.” you joked, only to laugh for a bit then go in with a murmured, “Sorry that was cheesy.” 

“It was!” he admitted, yelling so you could hear him through the car glass since you closed the door already. He did his little jog over to the drivers seat and went it rather smoothly, not that you were impressed by that. 

“So, arcade?” he asked, smiling when you nodded and tapped excitedly on his dashboard. 

Once again, in ten minutes, the two of you had reached the destination, quickly running out as if the both of you were six, and not in your early 20s. 

As you ran into building, fluorescent hitting your eyes with a familiar nostalgia coming alongside them, much too familiar from the high school days of you and Chan going to another arcade that was already closed down now. 

“So, what do you want to do first?” you asked, as if you didn’t guess the answer already. 

Chan looked forward, scanning the place more and finally seeing a row of big,  bulky, metal boxes that couldn’t be missed. He pointed at them, rather cutely to add, smiling down at you. 

You gave him an excited grin back, happy that you guessed right in your head. You walked ahead, pleased to hear him tread behind you at a faster pace to catch up with you.

Drawing back the curtain, the two of you went inside and swiped the arcade card that you had because of several trips that were forced by your auntie with your little cousins. Luckily, there was still money inside. 

The recognizable ‘twinkling’ sound of the photo booth rang in both your ears, opting you to choose the frame decor, etc. 

And as the screen showed both your faces, a robotic voice was heard through the same speakers at the sides of the booth, stating ‘please move more towards the centre, thank you’ 

But if anyone were to look inside, you and Chan were already considerably close, especially since the bench space wasn’t wide at all. But you side-eyed the boy, scooting closer to him as he did the same to you. 

You felt his arm squish against yours, feeling flustered at the sudden contact. 

“Can..uh..” he trailed, “Can I put my arm around you? I.. I think it’ll make the pictures look less awkward, don’t you think?”

“Y-yeah!” you responded a bit too enthusiastically. Clearing your throat, you gave him the gentle smile that he could never hate, “Yeah. Go ahead, Chan.”

He did as he asked. Unlike the playful hug that you two had shared in your apartment lobby, this one felt more intimate, especially when you saw the screen reflecting the two of you. 

You could feel his rings dig against his cotton sweater on your body, assuming now that it was yours, comfortable enough for you to feel secure— at home. Nevertheless, you always felt that Chan was your home. 

Your eyes fixated on the screen as you moved forward to press the red button that would soon make you both take simultaneous pictures together. 

We look good together, you thought to yourself, Wait what? Shut up. 

But why did this feel different? You two had taken hundreds of photos together, varied with ridiculous, attractive, and unnecessary ones. But you swallowed that wondering lump in your throat, quickly dismissing it as you posed with Chan for each one, your vision rather blurry for a reason you couldn’t pinpoint. 

And as the twelve clicks ended, Chan stood up first. You were quite upset about the absence of his embrace, but didn’t mind it when he smiled at you like he always did,

“Let’s see the pictures.” he held his hand out for you to take, which you graciously did, feeling the pit of your stomach drop as you, as per usual, questioned what your relationship with him was at this point. 

The two pairs of feet, albeit the both of you were wearing matching shoes on accident, met their way towards the printing area. Looking at the screen which read 99% complete, Chan heard the sound of the photo paper hit the stopper that avoided the prints from falling on the ground. 

He bent down and took it, showing it to you. Naturally, your arms went around his left bicep, hugging it to look closer. Chan sucked in his breath, knowing that if he was in a cartoon right now, his brown head of hair would be sticking up in all places as a silhouette of his heart pumped dramatically out of his chest. 

It was ironic, as most of your friends would say; it was ironic how you two hugged often but got shy whenever your hands would simpy graze, it was ironic how you two were so affectionate yet were so resistant, and it was very ironic that your ‘hangouts’ weren’t dates at this point. 

He watched as you pointed at his face from top to bottom, questioning, 

“You’re not even facing the camera in most of these! Stop looking at me and look at the lens next time. Do you want to retake these?”

Your question wasn’t too hard, but you didn’t understand why Chan looked at you with such solemn eyes, his eyebrows knitted together as if he was frustrated. But the look was soon replaced with one that held adoration, but that only increased your confusion. 

“I mean.. we don’t have to retake these, Chan. What do you want to do?” 

“If you were my girlfriend, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

He didn’t know why he said that. Not a bone in his body was willing to let that out but his mind decided to play a little game of “thinking out loud”. The impulsivity of the statement made the two of your freeze in front of the photo booth.

But there was something that the both of you knew, something that neither of you wanted to admit. You had been friends for too long, had been too close for too long, but what was different now?

Why, after more than ten years of being best friends, was now the best time for you two to be together? 

But something resided within you, and in Chan as well. This was to atone for all the pain you two had experienced without one another. You and Chan always wondered why you’ve always loved, but never been in love truly. All this time, the person that was it from the start was right in front of your faces, but pent up denial never allowed it to happen. 

Until now. 

Somewhere, somehow, this was the universe’s way of telling you that today was that day. You woke up late, wore his sweater, and Chan had slipped up with his thoughts aloud. It made sense. 

So, you took a small step forward. 

It felt as if the gravity between your feet and floor was much heavier than before, especially watching Chan’s jaw clench out of nervousness, but you knew it was just you mustering up a ton of courage to finally ask, 

“Who’s stopping you from asking?” 

[polaroid15]

Parker Luck

Summary: Two weeks after the Vulture-incident, Tony buys a parenting book. Too bad there isn't a chapter on Parker luck.

Read on Ao3 HERE :)

------

Two weeks after the Vulture fiasco, Tony buys a book called ‘Parenting for Dummies’.

He almost immediately regrets the purchase and hides it in a drawer in the lab, not yet brave enough to face it. Then one day he spends three hours squished against Peter’s side, listening to the boy ramble about everything under the sun while they adjust his web shooters. It hits Tony like a brick wall, and when Peter bounces out of the lab after teaching Tony a complicated handshake he knows he’ll never remember, he swears under his breath.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He had known it from that very first moment in the kid’s bedroom in Queens.

For once, denial has gotten him nowhere.

After his eyes ache from staring at the door Peter had disappeared from, Tony stands, stretches out a kink in his lower back, and grabs the book from the drawer before he can lose his nerve. Still standing, he traces his thumb over the word Parenting on the cover.

Retreat, his mind begs. Stop. Before it’s too late.

But deep down, he knows he’s already in too deep.

With a heavy sigh and a pressing warmth in his chest, Tony flips the pages to chapter one.

--------

Peter calls it ‘Parker luck’.

Tony calls it the source of his ever-increasing gray hair.

When Peter stumbles into the Tower covered in blood and delirious from a nasty hit to the head, Tony thinks he’ll pass out from the sudden weight of his worry. It only takes some gentle coaxing and seven stitches to make it better, but the unease sits in Tony’s gut long after Peter falls asleep. When the boy wakes up, he apologizes until Tony snaps at him not too.

“It’s the Parker luck, Mr. Stark,” Peter tells him, his head wrapped like a mummy on halloween. “It gets me everytime.”

Parenting for Dummies Chapter Three: Listen. “A nasty concussion doesn’t exactly sound like luck to me, kid.”

“Oh, well it’s not good luck,” Peter clarifies with a weak smile. “In fact it’s really bad luck. Exceptionally bad.”

“You’re killing me here.”

“Did you know that I slipped on a banana peel once? A banana peel. I was on crutches for three weeks in middle school.”

Tony’s worry melts into a hesitant amusement. He sits back on his stiff medbay chair and makes a distant note to invest in a better one. “That is pretty lousy luck, kiddo.”

“And it just keeps getting worse,” Peter says. “Getting bitten by a radioactive spider, crashing Flash’s car, or the fact that I spent homecoming destroying a plane while fighting my date’s dad.”

“I hope this Parker luck of yours isn’t contagious,” Tony jokes, but something in Peter’s eyes darkens. He leans back against the white sheets, chewing on his bottom lip. Tony thinks again of chapter three, of the subtitle that prompts to push at the right times, and takes the liberty. “What is it, kid?”

Peter closes his eyes and gives a watery smile. “Nothing, Mr. Stark. Sorry.”

And because he’s an idiot, Tony believes him. Something tells him he needs to buy Parenting for Dummies 2.

--------

When Peter saves a school bus full of third graders from a thirteen car pileup at the expense of his collar bone, Tony rereads his book, this time with a highlighter in hand.

He wishes there was a section on Parker luck.

This time, he’s less careful about where he reads. Pepper catches him one night, her eyebrows disappearing behind her bangs in her surprise. Her smile is genuine. “Is that what I think it is?” she asks.

“Maybe.”

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

Tony rolls his eyes and dog ears his page before setting it aside. “I am, actually. And sorry to break it to you, but you’re not the father.”

Pepper laughs and sits on the arm of the couch. She runs her hand through his hair and he can’t help but lean into her touch. “This is about Peter,” she says.

His first instinct is to deny it. He feels vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to. “So what if it is?”

“He’s a good kid.”

“I know.”

“He’s making you soft.”

Tony scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. Not with Parenting for Dummies on his lap. “He’s stressing me out, is what he’s doing.”

“He really cares about you, Tony. I see it every time he’s over here.”

His body betrays him by the gentle swoop in his stomach. His mouth twitches in a smile. “I care about him too.”

“You’re a good example to him. He needs someone like you in his life. Especially after what happened to his parents. And his Uncle.”

And then it clicks. Parker luck. Tony’s mouth goes dry.

“I’m trying,” is all he manages to whisper. The book in his lap seems to increase by ten.

Pepper leans over him, pressing her lips into his hair. “I know.”

---------

It’s his and Peter’s fifth mission together.

Today, they’re going up against “the Detonator”, a crazed woman with an affinity for making bombs and setting them off in busy neighbourhoods. She’s armed with a team of rocket-launcher-wielding henchmen, and it’s taking every effort to keep the city in one piece.

Most of the block has been evacuated, thanks to Peter. Tony remembers chapter seven and shoots the boy some praise over their coms. Steve, who’s joined them for the day’s fight, agrees with clipped enthusiasm.

“Thanks guys!” Peter says in his usual animation. “These rocket launchers are no joke. Have you ever seen the movie-”

But whatever it is, it’s lost in the deafening sound of an explosion. He hears Peter swear over the com and Tony’s blood runs cold. Three blocks down, an orange fireball balloons into the air. Steve is already running, his shield tucked into his chest.

Tony shoots off into the sky.

---------

Peter thought they had everything under control.

Until rocket launcher man number 3 decided to explode the bank off 47th street, that is.

He feels the heat from the explosion before he can process what happened. It rips across his back and throws him off his feet into a hot dog cart across the street. Rubble and ash rain down on parked cars and their alarms begin to sound.

“Crap,” Peter groans, shoving away the dented cart and stumbling to his feet. His ears are ringing.

“Pete?” Tony’s voice cuts through the haze. “We’re on our way. You alright?”

“Yeah,” he responds, breathless. His shoulder aches. “These guys are not in a good mood.”

“You can say that again.”

The man who had fired the shot runs up the steps of the bank, bypassing chunks of concrete. Peter limps after him.

“Sorry man,” Peter says when his opponent’s back is still turned. “It’s after hours.”

Startled, the man spins. Peter fires a web to disarm him and it only takes one swift punch to finish the job. He webs him to the floor and kicks the rocket launcher into the corner.

“Kid?” Tony lands beside him, faceplate lifting and his hands reaching to grab onto him. His grip is tight on Peter’s arms, and Peter is unsure which one of them Tony is trying to comfort. “You still in one piece?”

Peter’s ears are still ringing, a high pitched whine that makes his eye twitch. His ankle throbs and he can feel warmth spreading down his back from a cut on his shoulder. He nods anyway. “Are you?”

“Better now that I see you haven’t been barbecued.”

Steve joins them as Peter laughs off Tony’s worry. He’s breathing heavy, his forehead streaked with ash. “Someone sighted the Detonator. She’s heading east towards the Empire State Building.”

“Of course she is,” Tony sighs. Finally, he lets Peter go. “Ready for a field trip?”

But just as he says it, another violent explosion lights up the street across from them. Peter stumbles against the force. Tony grabs his arm, and Steve his shoulder, and he steadies. Through the black smoke, a child cries.

Chest tight, Peter takes a step forward before he’s yanked back. It’s Tony. His helmet hides his expression, but Peter can tell from his stiff posture that he’s worried. That he doesn’t want to separate.

As if sensing it too, Steve places a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Peter and I will clear the rocket launchers. You go take care of the Detonator.”

“But-”

“She can’t get to it first, Tony. You’ll be the fastest.”

The crying continues, and Peter takes another step. This time, the metal fingers wrapped around his elbow loosen, letting him go. “You better watch him, Rogers.”

“Mr. Stark-”

“Don’t do anything stupid, kid.”

And then Tony is off, blasting off into the sky. Peter shivers against the hot air his exit leaves before turning to run towards the smoke and debris, Steve hot on his heels. Without hesitation, he jumps over the small flames and emerges on the other side, his throat closing up against the smoke.

The first thing Peter sees is the child, snot-nosed and hidden underneath the bed of a truck. His eyes widen when he sees them, a cry stopped short. “Spider-Man!” he yells.

“Get the kid,” Steve says. “I think I see our guy.”

And then he’s gone.

Peter doesn’t dwell on it, vaulting over a smashed mailbox and a stretch of broken glass to reach the kid’s side. He’s trembling, but his hands reach out. Trusting him.

“It’s alright,” Peter says, accepting the kid’s outstretched hands. “We’re okay. Do you know where your family is?”

The boy shakes his head, lip wobbling but obviously trying to be brave. “N-no. I lost them over there,” he says pointing down the street.

“Okay. No problem. Let’s go find them.”

He doesn’t give the boy an option to walk, but instead guides him to rest against his back. Small fingers lock together at the base of Peter’s throat, holding tight.

“What’s your name?” Peter asks as he heads in the direction the boy had pointed. Keep him distracted.

“Benny.”

Peter’s breath catches. “Nice to meet you, Benny. I’m Spider-Man.”

“I- I know.”

“Oh yeah?”

The boy’s head bobs against his back. “I see you on TV. And on the newspapers on the street. You fight bad guys.”

“I try too.”

“You’re awesome,” Benny says, and the shaking quality to his voice recedes.

“I think you’re the awesome one. You’re being so brave.”

“Brave?”

“Yeah, Benny. Even though it’s scary right now you’re still going.”

Benny sniffles. “Are you scared?”

“Nah,” Peter says. “I’ve got you to protect me.”

Against his back, Benny’s chest swells with a breath of a response, but before he can let the words lose a relieved cry erupts from their left. A woman in a pastel headscarf runs towards them, her arms outstretched. “Benny! My little Ben-”

“Mom!”

Peter maneuvers him to the ground and as soon as his small feet hit the ground he’s running. The pair meet in the middle of the street, their arms wrapping tight and their tears mixing. The mother’s eyes meet him from over Benny’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, every ounce of her emotion leaking into her words.

“Of course,” is all he can manage.

Once he’s sure they're safe and off the street, he deviates his attention to his coms. “Steve?” he asks over a private channel. “Where are you?”

For a long time, Steve doesn’t respond. Then just as Peter’s worry spikes the man’s voice fills his ears, pinched and strained. “By the river. I’m cornered.”

“Karen-” Peter starts, but Steve’s location pops up on his screen before he can ask further. He changes the trajectory of his swing and just barely avoids clipping his hip on the corner of a building. Then, to Steve, “I’m on my way!”

He finds the Captain in worse shape than he had expected. He’s hunched against an upturned car, it’s tires melted from the sheer heat of the destruction on the street. His shield is raised over his head to protect him from debris raining from the crumbling buildings.

Across the road, three of Detonator's accomplices are shooting the buildings around him, shrieking with glee whenever new glass shatters. Peter glides between the chaos before landing beside Steve. He scrapes his hands on the landing.

“Oh my god,” Peter says, flinching from another loud explosion. “What do we do?”

Steve grimaces, and it’s only now that Peter sees how messed up his leg is. It’s twisted at an unnatural angle, the material of his suit singed and still smoking around it.

“What the hell happened?” Peter gasps, feeling sick.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here.”

“Not with those crazy rocket guys standing guard. You can’t walk!”

“I can try.”

Adrenaline courses hot through Peter’s bloodstream. He peaks over the car and reassesses their opponents. “I can take them.”

“No. Tony said-”

“Tony isn’t here,” Peter argues. “Besides, I have my Peter tingle. I’ll be fine.”

“Peter tingle?”

“Be right back.”

“Wait!”

But Peter ducks out of cover, knowing that Steve won’t be able to stop him. He runs towards the one closest to him and hopes the element of surprise will be enough to take them down. It is, but barely, and now his cover is blown. The other two turn their weapons towards him and before he can suck in a breath, fire.

Peter swears and jumps high, the rockets whistling as they pass under his feet. They hit the edge of the sidewalk by the river, blowing it open and skipping chunks of debris into the water. Not wanting to wait for them to reload, Peter swings and takes them both out with a single kick. He lands in a messy roll, disoriented by the quickness of the fight.

“We’re clear!” he yells over to Steve, but even as he says it dread sits heavy in his gut. He takes one step towards the car before he hears it- a sharp release of air.

Fire blooms up at the base of the building closest to Steve, the crack of the impact enough to rattle Peter’s teeth and throw him to his knees. It’s the last straw. The building makes a horrible noise of grinding cement, like a scream, and Peter knows enough from experience that it’s close to collapse.

“Steve!”

He sprints to where the man is trying to limp away. His eyes find him, their blue shocking through the dust and smoke. “Peter. You have to get out of here-”

“Not without you.”

Before the man can object, Peter pulls his weight over his shoulder and makes it his burden. He wonders distantly where the fourth rocket launcher is and why they haven’t been blown sky high yet.

But then glass and cement falls down around them like rain, and Peter realizes. Because the building will finish the job for them.

“We’re not going to make it,” Steve says through ground teeth. His hold on Peter’s shoulder is bruising. “Peter, please.”

The building sways again. They have a couple seconds. Nothing more.

Then Peter sees it. A manhole.

“Here,” he gasps, dropping to his knees and tearing off the cover. Every alarm bell in his head is screaming, but it’s the only option. The only way they’ll both have a chance. “Go.”

Steve drops in, disappearing into darkness and landing below with an aborted shout. Peter kicks his legs in just as the building crumbles. Fear stops the breath in his chest and he slides the rest of the way in. He falls and lands hard, head spinning, before finding Steve’s arm in the darkness and pulling him deeper into the sewer.

There’s a couple moments of silence.

And then the world erupts.

Peter will remember later how the force of the impact threw both of them off their feet and how it was impossible to keep his grip on Steve’s arm. He’ll remember the deafening noise of the building smashing onto the street above them, of the great plume of dust that filled the tunnel and blinded him.

He’ll remember falling, his legs jelly, and struggling to his knees.

He’ll remember wishing he had called Tony.

But none of it registers in the moment. There’s only terror.

And then there’s nothing.

----------

“Peter. Come on. Work with me here.”

Awareness brings pain. He strays.

“Nope. No. Peter. Open your eyes.”

The voice belongs to Steve, Peter realizes in a stilted disorientation. Steve, who had been hurt. Steve, who sounds very much alive.

It’s enough for Peter to lift his heavy eyelids. His surroundings are dark, but he can see the Captain’s worried face swimming in front of him, warping in and out of focus as both of them release a breath of relief.

“Thank God,” Steve says.

“Are you okay?” Peter murmurs, surprised for a moment by how unwilling his vocal cords are to cooperate. There’s new blood on Steve’s face and the torso on his suit is torn.

“It’s you I’m more worried about.”

“Mm. Why?”

Steve might respond, but Peter doesn’t hear it, his awareness slipping like the close of a stage curtain. Strong hands shake him and the sting of his injuries are enough for him to struggle back into wakefulness.

“Stay awake, kid. Alright? Tony is on his way. Keep your eyes open.”

Peter didn’t remember closing his eyes, but sure enough, when he tries they open. “Tony?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

There’s a tightness in his chest, and Peter coughs against it. It sparks a sharp pain behind his ribs and he curls his fingers into the ground as Steve braces him by his shoulder. His ribs are definitely broken. His leg throbs and the skin on the right side of his face itches terribly with drying blood. He blinks a couple times to try and alleviate his double vision, but it does nothing.

“What happened?” Peter asks.

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

Steve’s expression pinches like he’s just eaten something sour. “The building above us collapsed, but don’t worry about it too much. Tony will be here in a flash.”

Collapse. Peter sucks in a panicked breath and it makes him cough again. It hurts worse this time, and his vision goes gray. He comes back to himself in Steve’s lap, his whole body shuddering and then man’s hand clamped protectively against his back.

The new perspective shows Peter a growing red stain on the Captain’s side.

“Steve,” he gasps, uncoordinated fingers reaching out to press against the wound.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not- it’s not nothing-”

Before Steve can retaliate further, their coms crack back to life. Peter winces against it, his fingers reaching up to struggle with the edges of his mask. Steve pushes his hand away. “Leave it. It’s helping filter your air.”

“Peter? Rogers?” Tony’s voice comes through in a mess of static. It reminds Peter of Ben’s favorite radio station that had been broadcasted too far to have a good connection. “I’m here. Oh Christ, I’m here. Are you okay?”

“Steve’s hurt,” Peter mumbles. It’s important Tony knows.

“Rogers?”

“Just hurry, Tony,” Steve says. There’s a pressure in his voice that Peter’s too tired to translate.

“The explosion caused the river to flood. You’re under about three feet of water right now.”

“We’re airtight.”

“For now.”

Peter feels himself dip further into Steve’s lap and the man’s steadying hand is delayed. Weaker. “Peter? What did I tell you about staying awake.”

“What’s wrong with Peter?”

“Queens. I need you to put pressure on this for me. Don’t give up on me now.”

Peter groans. For once, he doesn’t care how young it makes him sound. He struggles up anyways and replaces his hand obediently over Steve’s side. It paints his hands red and he tries desperately not to think of Ben.

“Rogers-”

“I got it, Tony.”

There’s a weighted silence. Peter bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself lucid. The static in his brain reminds him of the time he had gotten stabbed, and wonders if he’s bleeding somewhere too.

“Okay. I found a weak spot. It shouldn’t cause too much damage. Are you ready?”

“Go for it.”

There’s another lurch of shifting rock. Peter can’t help but cry out, his muddled brain struggling to comprehend that this time, it’s to help. Then there’s a loud crash, a weak beam of sunlight, and the rush of water.

Within seconds, the cold spray is up to their waists. Peter grinds his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against reflexive tears the biting temperature brings. It gives him a boost of adrenaline, and when he opens his eyes again, his vision is more clear.

Tony is with them moments later, hovering above the water. His hands reach for Peter, but Peter shys away. “Steve first,” he pleads. “He’s bleeding-”

“You’re bleeding too-” Tony starts, but even as he says it, Steve lists dangerously to the side. His face is pale, his breathing shallow. Tony catches him by the shoulder. “Don’t move,” he tells Peter, and works to lift Steve up towards the hole.

The water is up to Peter's chest now. It steals the breath from his lungs and he scrambles to stand. Somewhere in the journey the ground above him groans and he loses his footing. He hears Tony yell out for him, feels metal hands push him hard, and then he’s completely underwater. There’s more noise. More pain.

He breaks the surface, stuttering on his breath and his teeth clattering. More sunlight has entered the tunnel, and it’s easy to piece together what had happened.

“Tony!”

Peter fights against the current to reach his mentor’s side. His suit is pinned under a large slab of concrete by his left leg, the water already sloshing up to his neck. Peter practically collapses beside him and digs his fingers under the weight, but his ribs scream in protest so violently that his vision goes white.

“Easy!” Tony yells, catching him by his arms when he falters. “Kiddo, listen to me. The suit will let me breathe for a while. You need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. FRIDAY took some damage, but she’s recalibrating my boosters. I’ll be able to get out.”

“No,” Peter chokes, trying again to lift the concrete keeping Tony pinned. “I won’t leave without you.”

“Peter-”

“I’m not losing you too. I can’t- I can’t-”

Tony’s voice is more gentle, his hand reaching to cradle the side of Peter’s face. “Listen to me, bud. I know this is scary. But you have to trust me. You have to go. For me.”

Peter shudders. Feels hot tears pool under the tight confines of his mask. “Told you I have Parker luck,” he says.

Tony finds it within himself to laugh. The water is at their chins. “I know, kiddo. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’ve got each other now.”

“Tony-”

“Go.”

The water rises over his mouth. He wouldn’t be able to answer even if he wanted to. Then Tony’s head is submerged, and icy terror closes around Peter’s heart.

He dives under and reaches once more for the weight on Tony’s leg. He pulls and struggles and feels Tony’s hands on his arms, trying to pry him off and pull him away. The light is gone in the murky water.

Please. Please.

The concrete shifts. It takes everything in Peter not to gasp out at the pain it causes, to waste the precious air he has left.

Please.

It shifts again. Tony has given up on trying to push him off and is instead helping to lift the weight. Just a little bit more.

Peter screams, tiny bubbles escaping and carrying whatever he had left away. His body loses strength just as the concrete is alleviated. He thinks he feels Tony’s hands close around his numb body. But really he can’t be sure.

Tony is safe.

And it’s all that matters.

-------

“Peter. Don’t do this.”

“Breathe, Queens. Oh God-”

“Steve. What do I- I can’t- I can’t-”

“Keep the compressions going, Tony. Keep going okay? Don’t stop.”

“I can’t do it without him. I need him, Steve. I need-”

“Keep it together. He’s going to be fine. Right, Peter? You’re going to be fine. You just have to breathe for us.”

“Kiddo. Baby. Please.”

It’s all water down a drain.

A swirling, murky mess.

And it takes Peter with it.

-------

Parenting for Dummies: Chapter 12.

Love them unconditionally.

Tony hasn’t left his kid’s side for hours. He’s been glued to him, the boy’s limp hand pressed between his own like a lifeline even when the doctor’s had worked to splint his leg. Every breath, every rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a miracle, and Tony stares at the heart monitor until his eyes burn.

May is dozing in a recliner in the corner, her glasses crooked on her face. It’s just nearing three in the morning.

There’s movement behind him, and Tony turns to find Steve. He’s traded his hospital gown for a pair of loose sweats and a white shirt, the skin on his arms wrapped with thick bandages. The Captain turns and sees May. When he speaks, his words are almost a whisper. “How is he?”

Tony shrugs, a sudden lump monopolizing in his throat. “He’ll be okay.”

“Has he woken up yet?”

“No.”

Steve sighs. He limps to Tony’s side, but still manages to keep some distance. “He was brave today.”

“If by brave you mean dumb, then yes.”

“He saved our lives. We both know that you wouldn’t have been able to blast out of there by yourself.”

Dread sits heavy in Tony’s gut, because it’s true. He would’ve said anything to get Peter to safety. His blasters weren’t recharging. Weren’t even close to functioning.

But the kid had been too selfless for his lie. Really, Tony shouldn’t be surprised.

And now every time he closes his eyes he sees Peter. Hurt, small, Peter. Jerking with the last of his energy to free Tony. Of going limp in the water, no more air leaving his lips and remaining totally unresponsive as Tony fought to return the life to him.

“I wish it didn’t have to be him,” Tony says.

“But it is. It was.”

“I know.”

Steve lays a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He’s too tired to flinch away from it. “Let me know when he wakes up.”

And then he leaves.

Tony runs his thumb over Peter’s knuckles. “Wake up,” he says. Pleads.

But with his usual stubbornness, Peter doesn’t show signs of waking for another hour. First his fingers twitch. Then he groans. His eyelids flutter and Tony nearly collapses in his relief. Soft and weary eyes turn to find him, and Peter’s lips turn into a smile.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs.

“You have no idea how angry I am with you right now,” Tony says, but any heat behind his words is lost behind his relief. Peter must see it because his smile only widens.

“You don’ look angry.”

“Furious?”

“Nope.”

“Enraged?”

Peter laughs, then winces. He looks down and notices Tony’s hand clamped on his own. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Peter looks up. Tony tightens his hold.

“Maybe I don’t have Parker luck after all.”

“We’re breaking the cycle,” Tony agrees. He lifts Peter’s hand and presses a firm kiss to the back of his hand. Peter smiles again.

“Pepper told me you bought a parenting book,” he says, eyes drooping.

“That woman is nothing but a liar.”

“Mm. I believe her.”

“Sorry to break it to you kid, but whoever would want to willingly parent a danger seeking, heart attack inducing kid like you would have to be crazy.”

Peter squeezes Tony’s hand. “Sorry to break it to you, but I guess that means you're crazy.”

Tony’s heart compresses with warmth. “Yeah kid,” he says, “I guess I am.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

Yeah in case everyone forgot, this is in fact a writing blog 😐 I'm sorry for not posting in so long, I was just in this weird writers block for a while 😔 anyways, enjoy :)

Monsta X reaction to somnophilia

Shownu

As the leader of a group of 5 rambunctious man-children (well, more like 4, kihyun isn't as much of a handful) he tends to be exhausted by the time he comes home but at the same time he wants to be able to get intimate with you so he finds himself in a lil bit of a conundrum. Once he stumbles upon somnophilia he honestly doesn't know why he hadn't thought of it sooner. So one night when he gets home, he finds you in the bedroom reading a book and flops down beside you. He starts to leave a trail of lazy kisses along your neck and talks about the new thing he learned. You don't need to be asked twice before you're palming the bulge in his pants as he slowly starts to doze off. His voice ends up getting higher in pitch as he falls asleep, his hips constantly jerking up into your touch. He's in the same boat as Wonho in the sense that he wants you to mark him up so he can see them the next morning. The soreness he feels in his bones when he drags himself out of bed in the morning makes him even crazier for you if that were even possible. All in all he loves you more than life itself and the fact you can use him whenever you want turns him on a lot. 

Wonho

You'd have to be crazy to think he wouldn't be into this. Wonho's is so sweet and pliant and just willing to do anything for you at the drop of a hat so you like to treat him sometimes without him having to worry about pleasuring you. The best way to do that is to take care of him when he's sleeping. He looks so cute with his lil cheek squished against his pillow, his shorts riding up to show off even more of his lovely thighs so you can't really stop yourself from being all over him. His favorite thing is when you leave marks all over him while he's sleeping; hickeys that cover his chest, thighs, and neck and well as red lines from your nails raking over his skin or small bruises from where you squeeze him particularly hard. He loves to wake up to the lovely ache all over his skin and he's pleasantly surprised when he looks in the mirror and sees how you've marked him as your own without his knowledge. He'll get all giddy and stare at the marks for hours if he can cause he loves them so much :,))

Minhyuk

Poor puppy can never seem to take his mind off of you, especially when he was sleeping apparently. Of course you loved having intimate time with your boyfriend but you were a little less than enthusiastic when it was at three am and you had to get up for work in four hours. You were suddenly reminded of the conversation you had had with Minhyuk last week, when he told you if he ended up bothering you when you were sleeping with his "problems" (since it happened more often than you would think) you could use him to tire his body out since that seems to be the only way his past partners had been able to solve it. That was what led you to edging his unconscious body four times before deciding to let him cum. It definitely helped diffuse the situation but you couldn't help yourself, he just looks and sounds so pretty moaning for you. It's not like he'd ever stop you from doing it. If the way he came as soon as he woke up to his cock in your mouth was any indication, you were certain he liked it too. Sometimes when he's just starting to wake up in the middle of a session you like to tease him because his brain is so fuzzy he can only chant one phrase over and over. Like if you say "You're my sweet lil puppy, aren't you baby? Such a whore, letting me use your body like this." He'll end up in an endless loop of saying "Your sweet puppy! Your slutty little puppy!" Over and over again until you finally let him cum. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't taken a picture or two before 👀

Kihyun

Not only does he enjoy it, he encourages you to. How can you possibly resist someone so pretty and pliant just waiting to be used?? On the days he gets home before you, he'll make sure to put on some pretty lingerie before falling asleep for you to find when you start running your hands all over his body. It really is impossible to resist him then. You also found out that you could make him start to cry even when he's asleep and you've made it your mission to watch him do it every time after that. His eyes will be closed, some pretty lace adorning his body as his body twitches and spasms in your grasp and after edging him for a little while you see the tears start to trail beautifully down his cheeks and you're certain you've never seen him look more beautiful. He'll be hella embarrassed when he wakes up and feels the tears on his face and he'll jerk his head to the side and bury it into the pillow so you can't see the beauty of his tears which is slightly disappointing but his embarrassed whines make up for it.

Hyungwon

Oh my god he's the biggest slut for somnophilia. There is nothing he wants more than to wake up to the feeling of your strap thrusting into him, his orgasm washing over him as he struggles to comprehend what's happening in the world around him. He loves when you use his body for your own pleasure so he encourages you to use it whenever you want. He also doesn't like being woken up in the middle of the night for anything so it's better for both parties if you just do what you want and let him sleep. And his little whines and whimpers when he's sleeping are even cuter somehow?? It's mostly because when he's awake he's embarrassed by his own noises so he tends to keep them down, but when he's sleeping he no longer has control over how vocal he is so he'll whimper and squirm with the lightest touch. You'll be lightly trailing your fingertips over his inner thighs, watching his breathing pick up before you rake your nails down the sensitive skin just to hear his sweet whimpers as his body jerks under you. He's the prettiest like that so who are you to pass up that opportunity?

Jooheon

I don't know why but I can imagine him being a lil bit of a sleep talker, like if you talk to him when he's sleeping he'll say something back even tho he isn't awake so when you start touching him when he's asleep he'll start babbling even tho he isn't really conscious. You could be touching him and he'll start whining and squirming and if you ask him "How does this feel baby? Knowing I can use your body like my own little toy whenever I want to, huh?" And he'll just start babbling about how good you feel and how much he likes it and it's all kinda slurred together because he isn't awake but it's super fucking cute so you love to do it. Jooheon does enjoy waking up to you playing with him, telling him what a sweet boy he is for you and praising him nonstop. And he already cums relatively quickly but he's so much more sensitive when he's asleep so by the time he wakes up you've already made him cum like three times but he doesn't mind. It's one of the first things he comprehends when he finally does wake up so he starts begging you to milk him of everything he has. It's even cuter if you get some of his cum on your fingers and shove them in his mouth cause he still can't fully comprehend what's happening so his head will flop to the side and the cum you had on your fingers just kinda drips from the corner of his mouth, covering both his cheek and the pillow beneath him. Overall, Jooheon + somnophilia is a true blessing to this world.

Changkyun

2nd biggest slut 😔✊. You can really do whatever you want with him when he's sleeping, he's given you full permission for everything. The only thing off limits is blindfolding cause obviously if he wakes up to being tied up and blindfolded he's gonna freak the fuck out, but everything else is on the table. That being said, however, no matter how many times you've made him cum, if he wakes up to you playing with him while he's tied to the bed he will become hard as a rock. If he doesn't wake up during (somehow) then he immediately gets turned on when he wakes up the next morning to the stinging red marks on his wrists so then you have another problem to deal with. Changkyun is such a sweetheart when he first wakes up as well (if your playing with him) so he'll just sit there with no complaints as you absolutely ravish his tired body. He's so much easier to deal with when he's sleeping cause he can't talk back to you so maybe you should savor the time you have before he fully wakes up, just saying-