#put that half-foot in some dad clothes

[snuffysbox]

chilly charles

#put that half-foot in some dad clothes #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #artsy stuff

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: You once again found yourself face-to-face with Eddie not even twenty-four hours after he checked into the motel, and your interactions left you with more questions than answers. (3.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, grumpy Eddie, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter two: here today

Bzzzzzz!

Your alarm clock blared its tinny ring at 1 PM. The sun was bright, a welcome change from yesterday’s overcast skies and steady rainfall.

You stretched as you awoke before shedding your oversized shirt and shorts, padding over to the shower and waiting a full five minutes for the cold water to turn lukewarm. The thinning bar of soap formed sad suds in your palm, and you lathered your skin as best as you could.

Despite your best efforts, you kept thinking about your encounter last night—that morning, really—with Eddie Munson. There was a cocky edge to him, evident by his initial refusal to put out his joint, but at least a shred of humanity; after all, he did eventually comply. There was even a semblance of…something that’d you’d shared in your brief interaction.

Or maybe it was just your imagination, the summation of your exhaustion and his high.

The towel scratched as you dried the water droplets from your bare skin, and though the cloth dampened, you could have sworn that it wasn’t wicking any moisture. Dad had been saying for years that he’ll invest in new linens “as soon as business picks up.” But business never picked up enough to do anything more than barely break even for the year, so the ancient towels stayed.

Picking the lint off of your purple T-shirt, you tucked it into your jeans and shoved your feet into your sneakers without bothering to unlace them first. One look in the mirror determined that you definitely needed makeup to look half-decent, or at least awake. There was no earthly way you would sacrifice a minute of precious sleep, so you swiped on some mascara in favor of an intricate routine and quickly fixed your hair. 

You plucked a granola bar from the stash on your dresser: your usual breakfast, tossed into your backpack as you headed out the door towards the lobby. The bus would be arriving in about five minutes, giving you just enough time to get to the stop before the doors closed. Barring any traffic, it followed a consistent schedule; one of the few certainties in life. 

“Hi Dad; bye Dad,” you called out, stopping in your tracks when you saw an obviously irritated Eddie standing in front of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot anxiously tapping. At least he was fully dressed this time, clad in a faded band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and the same denim jacket he was wearing last night when he’d first walked in. “Everything okay?” 

Dad motioned to Eddie. “Our guest is having some issues with his TV,” he said, his raised eyebrows indicating that the guest was being quite persistent about the matter. “Can you help him?” Before you could answer, he looked at Eddie and explained, “my daughter’s better with this technology stuff than I am.”

There was a temptation to argue that it was probably just a matter of smacking the side or replacing the remote batteries, but you didn’t have time to waste. “Yeah, sure,” you relented, turning to Eddie and waving him over. “Come on.”

Eddie waited to speak until the two of you were completely alone. “That was your dad?” 

You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets and keeping your walking pace until you reached his room. 

“So what’s the problem?” you asked as he turned the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment before it fully unlatched, and he opened the door with a shove.

“The reception’s shit,” Eddie muttered, keeping his fingers splayed on the door so you could walk in first. “Every time I try to put on MTV, it’s all static. Tried it last night, too, but I figured it was because of the storm.” He gestured to the now-sunny skies. “But that shouldn’t be affecting it anymore.”

You offered a wry smile, the way you always did when delivering bad news to a guest. “Nothing’s wrong with the reception,” you explained, “there’s just no cable.”

“What?” His brows shot up in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s simple.” You shrugged. “Cable costs money, we don’t have money; ergo, no cable.”

Eddie raked a hand through his messy curls. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His feet could have worn holes in the floor with the way he was pacing. “Where can I watch MTV around here? Like, is there a bar or something?”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s one right down the—” You turned to the window but stopped mid-sentence, your stomach sinking as you watched your bus fly past. You heaved a dejected sigh as tears prickled at your eyes embarrassingly, and you blinked them away. 

It’s okay; I haven’t been late at all this semester, you silently reminded yourself. You could take one of the dollar cabs that runs up and down Jamaica Avenue. It wouldn’t get you exactly where you needed to go, but it would be close enough.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, eyes trained on the TV. “Fuck,” he grumbled, sucking through his teeth. 

“The clock radio plays music,” you offered as you hiked your backpack higher up on your shoulder. “I know it’s not the same as watching videos, but–”

“It’s not about the stupid videos!” he snapped, curling his palm into a tight fist and biting down on his forefinger knuckle. Dark eyes exuded distress, and you couldn’t help but think that his sheer panic mismatched the problem’s minimal severity.

You recoiled at his sudden outburst and took an instinctive step back. He noticed this, his expression instantly softening. His hand unfurled and fell to his side. 

“Shit, I–”

“I’m gonna be late to class.” You composed yourself, straightening your posture and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But the bar is right on 144th and 89th.”

He sputtered as he searched for the right words to apologize and explain himself. If you had time, you’d wait for him to unscramble his thoughts, but you were already behind schedule now that your bus was long gone.

You strode across campus like you were on a mission, feet flying over the pavement. The cab had left you at another bus stop closer to school, and that bus had thankfully arrived on schedule. At this rate, you would only be ten minutes late to class. 

Sweat trickled down your back from midday sun’s warmth and your fast pace, but you kept walking until you reached the lecture hall’s double doors. This class was a smaller one, only twenty or so students, so there was no sneaking in unnoticed. 

You shot your professor an apologetic look that she accepted with a polite nod, sliding into your usual seat next to your friend Nora. 

“Is everything okay?” Nora whispered, moving her own bag from the chair. The concern on her face was palpable; if you weren’t able to make it to class, you would have called her. 

“Yeah, just stuff at the motel going haywire as usual,” you reassured her with a small smile, digging out your notebook and a pen. You flipped to the first blank page and scribbled today’s date next to the right-hand margin. “What did I miss?”

Nora shook her head as if to say, nothing. “She just gave back last week’s homework. I grabbed yours, too.” She handed you a sheet of paper with a bright red A+ on top. “I figured if something had happened to you, you could be buried with your most recent perfect paper.” 

She winked, and you rolled your eyes to mask your burgeoning pride. 

Truthfully, you’d worked hard on the assignment. You might have already been accepted to graduate school, but NYU’s prestige didn’t come without a hefty price tag, and you still needed to apply for scholarships in order to afford it. 

Now was not the time to slack. 

You tried to pay attention to the lecture, but your mind constantly drifted to the way Eddie had behaved in his room, having a meltdown like an overtired toddler. The man who had lost his temper over a television channel was starkly different from the one who had readily swapped playful jabs with you the night prior. 

Maybe whatever buzz he’d managed to acquire before you’d interrupted him had made him uncharacteristically pleasant, and today’s outburst was indicative of his true self. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and willed yourself to focus on the case study being presented on the board rather than your own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the mystery that was Eddie Munson. Guests had had their choice words with you before—there was a reason why you had pepper spray at the ready—but this felt different. When most guests screamed like he had, they were specifically angry at you; it was the reaction you had expected when you’d told Eddie that he couldn’t smoke pot in the motel. Others simply were not in their right minds and didn’t realize that they were shouting at a random woman and not their mom or childhood bully or the monster under the bed. 

Eddie differed from both categories in that he’d recognized his mistake. That he was frustrated at the situation, not at you. That he had started an apology that he might have finished If you had stuck around.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he would have continued yelling, face growing red with rage. Maybe he would have stopped his tantrum but stormed out to the bar without a second thought. 

You looked down at your notebook page, still blank except for the date. 

Maybe you should stop playing this game of what-ifs and actually listen to the lecture. 

After your professor handed out the rubric for the final paper and dismissed the class, you and Nora made a beeline for the food cart outside the building. Dining hall food was too expensive and bland; besides, Niko knew both of your orders by heart. 

He greeted you with a chipper smile as soon as you approached the cart. Bacon sizzled in its own fat, drowned out only by the sound of the chopper scraping against stainless steel as Niko scrambled the eggs.  

“Better enjoy this nice weather while it lasts,” he said, fuzzy gray brows pinching together. He grabbed two styrofoam cups from a stack and filled them with coffee. “Temperature’s s’posed to skyrocket this summer.”

You grimaced, pulling a few bills from your backpack’s front pouch. “If food service doesn’t work out for you, Niko, you should look into meteorology.”

He brushed off your sarcasm and adjusted his apron over his protruding belly. He added cream and sugar to the coffees and slid them towards you. “Been doin’ this a long time,” he said, gesturing to the food cart set-up. He took your four singles and handed you back two quarters, doing the same for Nora. “Longer than you two’ve been alive. And some things never change: you kids always have somethin’ smart to say.” 

Your mouth watered as he toasted the rolls and added a slice of American cheese to yours before combining the ingredients into hearty sandwiches. He carefully wrapped them in tinfoil and handed them over. 

You smiled, uncovered the sandwich, and took a hearty bite. Melty cheese oozed out from the roll and clung to your lip, and you collected it with the tip of your tongue. “At least we’re consistent,” you teased, waving goodbye as you and Nora walked to the bus stop. 

“What went down at the motel today?” Nora asked, chewing her food as she spoke. “I mean, I’ve seen you get to class early during a blizzard,” she added with a knowing grin. 

You remembered that day, February winds whipping around you and cutting through your layers of clothes like a knife. The snow stung your nose and cheeks and made it nearly impossible to see three feet ahead of you, but you’d made it to class before the professor had even arrived.

“Nothing really,” you tried to say nonchalantly, taking another bite of sandwich to keep your mouth busy. You don’t want to think about the way Eddie had raised his voice at you this afternoon; more specifically, the shame that tugged at you for being disappointed. You’d had one decent interaction with him and you’d foolishly assumed some kind of mutual respect had been built, but it all boiled down to the basics: he was a guest at the motel who would be checking out on Friday, and then you’d never see him again.

Nora wrinkled her nose, not quite believing you, but any further interrogation was interrupted by the bus squeaking to a stop. You dropped the five quarters into the tray before squeezing your way through the aisle.

“Just…” Nora dropped her voice to avoid drawing the ire of your fellow commuters, grabbing onto a pole to steady herself, “you didn’t need to break out the pepper spray or anything, right?” 

You gave her a grateful smile. “Nothing like that. I promise.”

“Good.” She reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze, careful not to brush up against anyone else. “Because I need my study buddy in one piece.” 

“I’m fi—” The bus lurched forward suddenly, the driver slamming on the brakes just as the yellow light turned red. You tightened your grip on the pole and planted your feet into the floor to keep your balance until coming to a complete stop. The other passengers grumbled and groaned as they shifted, leaving trails of mumbled sorry’s in their wake.

The Metropolitan Transit Authority would likely cause your demise well before any motel guest could get to you.  

It was barely after six PM when you got back to the motel. The sun began to creep down from its pedestal into purpling clouds and teased dusk’s beginning. Horns honked as rush hour traffic dragged along the expressway as though their cacophony would make the other cars evaporate into thin air. 

You had about four hours before your shift started; it was just enough time to work on the paper, take a quick nap, and boil water in your electric kettle to make some Cup Noodles. 

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Eddie leaning against the wall, a cigarette burning between his pointer and middle finger. It was freshly lit, but he still extinguished it under his foot before stepping closer to you. His brown eyes flickered from the ground to your face and back down again. 

“Hi.” Short but polite, your customer-service smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. You could see Mom through the glass door, leafing through paperwork that was almost certainly a stack of past-due bills. 

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffing one Reeboked heel against the pavement. “I went to that bar you told me about.” He said it all in one breath as though he expected you to take off running. 

“Oh.” One corner of your mouth quirked up in a hesitant half-smile. “Did you, um, did you get to watch your show?”

He nodded, a forlorn look clouding his eyes. His right incisor dug into his lower lip. “Yeah. Thanks.” He paused, and you started for the door once again before he spoke up. “Sorry, I—you said you had a class today?” he asked, clumsily tripping over his words.

There was no sense in lying; not with your backpack hooked over your shoulders. “Mhm.” 

“Were you…” His tongue swiped nervously over his lips. “Did I make you late?”

You shook your head. “I got a dollar cab.” Not quite a lie, just omitting the truth. At this point, you were willing to let him smoke weed again if it’d result in easy conversation.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, head tilted slightly as he assessed your response. He seemingly accepted it at face value, exhaling a quiet, “that’s good,” and fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette. 

You took that as your cue to leave and ducked into the lobby to greet your mom with a quick wave. She returned it with a weary smile, eyes creased at the corners. The soft lines etched into her forehead had deepened over the past few months. The Reagan-Bush trickle-down economy era might have come to an end, but its remnants still affected small businesses and the even smaller people running them.

“How was class?”

“Good.” 

The usual exchange, no real information revealed. The mother-daughter song-and-dance performance of the ages. As long as neither of you disrupted the routine, the music played on.

Ten PM rolled around too quickly, and you plodded into the lobby with a stomach full of sodium-drenched noodles and your tote bag full of books. A street light flickered outside, more off than on, illuminating the sidewalk in a hazy glow every so often.

Mom handed over the register keys and placed a kiss on your cheek before she left to go to bed in the room she shared with Dad. Nighttime was the only time they got to be together uninterrupted, and it was spent sleeping.

That wasn’t what you wanted. When–if–you found somebody to share your life with, you wanted to have conversations with topics besides financial upkeep. You wanted to talk about meaningless topics and make each other laugh. You wanted to lay with your head on their lap, gazing into their eyes and revering in the beautiful silence. Nothing forced or planned. Just being.

You positioned yourself behind the desk, spreading your supplies in front of you. You’d managed to draft the opening paragraph for your essay before sleepiness overtook you and you’d had to nap, and your goal tonight was to revise it to perfection. The upcoming weekend would be spent at the public library, nose deeply buried in every psychology book they owned while you outlined the body.

Red pen marked up your page, commas added and removed three times over. Arrows shifted sentence order, while some sentences were altogether crossed out with heavy lines.

It was perfect. It was all wrong. You loved it. You hated it.  

Maybe I should scrap it altogether and start over. 

Your palm pressed to the notebook page, ready to tear it out and crumple it into a ball with jagged edges that would dig into your skin. 

“Hey.”

In your intense focus, you hadn’t even heard anyone walk in. A rookie mistake; somebody could have snuck up on you and you’d be none the wiser.

Eddie stood there, a folded one-dollar peering out from between his thumb and forefinger. He shuffled to the desk and held out the money, his eyes offering a silent apology. 

“I owe you for the, uh, cab,” he mumbled, lips forming a tight, nervous smile. “And don’t argue with me. I know my bullshit made you late, so…” He flitted his free hand as if dismissing potential concern.

You clicked your tongue in mock disapproval. “You’re not from New York City, are you?”

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, fingers scratching at a stubbled patch along his cheek. “How’d ya know?”

“A New York man knows better than to tell a New York woman not to argue with him,” you teased, capping your pen. “Also, you tried starting a conversation with me earlier, and any New Yorker knows that’s a cardinal sin.”

“Having a conversation?” 

“Making small talk with a stranger.”

His nose crinkled in adorable bewilderment as though the thought never occurred to him. “We’re not strangers. We met last night.”

The innocence of his remark drew a genuine laugh out of you. “I see the same people on the bus every day,” you told him, “and they’re still strangers. Being more than mildly aware of someone's existence doesn’t mean I know them.”

“Fair point,” Eddie conceded, leaning in slightly, “but I’d argue that we know each other’s names, so we’re not total strangers.”

Humming your acknowledgment–but not necessarily agreement–you plucked the dollar from his grasp and tucked it into your back pocket. “I’ll put this towards your bill.” 

“Oh, yeah. About that.” Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are there any pawn shops around here that’ll buy a guitar?”

“No, sorry.” There had been one down the street but it had already been shuttered for a few years. Guests would go there all the time to hock whatever they could to pay for another night at the motel.   

He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Shit. Okay.” The playfulness behind his eyes faded. “Um, thanks anyway.”

He turned away from the desk, shoulders slumped. You knew that look all too well; it was the stance of someone who just needed life to cut them a break.

“Eddie?”

He swiveled back around, his curls a half-second behind. “Yeah?”

“Do you know how to re-wallpaper a room?”

“Huh?” Your question caught him by surprise, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I mean, yeah, kind of. I did it for my uncle’s trailer once. But I’m not, like, a professional.”

You smiled. “No professional experience necessary.” You gestured to the various spots on the wall where the paper was cracked and peeled. “If you can make this look presentable, you can stay a few more days. Free of charge.”

His expression immediately darkened, eyes narrowing and crossed arms closing off his body. “I don’t need charity,” he asserted through a tensed jaw.

“It’s not charity; it’s a favor.” The harsh reaction caught you off-guard, but you refused to let him unsettle you again. “Look around: do you really think we can afford to hire someone to install new wallpaper?” 

You didn’t bother to wait for his response before continuing. “We need to fix this place up, and you need a roof over your head.” Shrugging casually, you held onto the hope that he would also view this as a mutually beneficial offer and not a pity handout.

Eddie just scoffed, a rejection in itself, compounded with a growling reprise: “I said, I don’t need charity.” 

Spikes jutted out from his words and pinched your skin, each one a reminder of your uncanny ability to worsen every problem you tried to solve. 

Offering a job to someone you barely knew? He gave you a buck to pay for the cab you only had to take because of him—not exactly the best character statement. The man could be a serial killer who preys on low-budget motel owners and you’d be none the wiser, signing his checks like you weren’t his next victim. 

Maybe next week, you could hire Ted Bundy to change bed linens. 

“Understood.”

He looked at you so intensely his pupils should have bored a hole right through you. Behind his eyes wasn’t an ounce of hate or even anger. 

It was raw shame. 

I’m sorry got caught in your throat and didn’t reach your tongue until he had disappeared back down the hall, out of sight. 

--

taglist:

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#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Teach My Mouth a Lesson

Toji x fem!reader

Synopsis: You've caught the interest of your friend's sleazy dad. And he's caught yours.

Content: age gap (reader is mid 20s, toji is late 40s), self pleasure(toji), he's kinda mean, voyeuristic scene (reader watches toji)

Wc: 1.5k

Part Two

A cold iced coffee sat nestled in your hand, pulling it to your lips as you listened to your best friend complain. About her father no less. It was usually the same. "He only calls after I beg him to." And, "Can you believe he missed my birthday again?" You didn't really have room to comment, not having the best relationship with your own father. Plus it wasn't really new information, he was barely in her life as it was. "Doesn't he usually miss your birthday?" You commented and she only pouted. "I thought it'd be different this time." With a sigh, she fiddles with her drink before her eyes widen. "Let's go shopping!"

"Again?" You shook your head, bringing the cold, foamy liquid to your lips. It's not like you really had a say, her hands already wrapping around your arm as she tugged you, almost making you drop your coffee.

You spent the day in store after store, watching as she tried half the clothes on and only buying a handful. You got some cute things too but ultimately were a little more frugal with your money than she was. She was always spending whatever she made as soon as her paycheck was deposited. By the time you'd finished, the sun was setting and she was dragging you, yet again, to a bar. It's not that you were opposed to drinking, it just didn't take much to make you tipsy let alone full-on drunk. Which is exactly what happened.

Both your friend and you, hailing a cab as your combined giggles filled the chilly air. She managed to clumsily tell the driver her address before you two sang, off key, some random song that happened to be stuck in your head.

The cab came to an abrupt stop, the driver giving a glare to both of you before she randomly threw a few twenties at him as you fumbled out of the car. Giggling and bumping into each other as she barely managed to get her keys, it took four tries before she finally slotted it inside the lock. "Shhhh," she giggled. "I don't know if-hicc-my Dad's home." Your alcohol filled brain scoffed at the carefulness. "What's he gonna do?" You giggled, and she joined before she excused herself to the bathroom. You rested yourself against the kitchen counter, head hanging backwards as you watched the ceiling spin.

"The fuck are you?"

A deep voice swarmed into your ears, making you jump as you leaned your head forward. A tall, beefy man stood in front of you. Jet black hair that went in all sorts of directions. But that's not what you noticed first, no. He was shirtless. Thick muscles lined his torso, arms, and chest. Fuck, he was built. He snapped in front of your face, "Hello? Ya deaf? Who the fuck are you?" You swallowed the lump that'd formed in your throat as you tried to talk. Failing miserably. Your brain couldn't even process that this was more than likely your friend's dad. "The girl who lives here…her friend."

"That so?" He clicked his tongue as he ran a hand down his stubbled chin. "Told her not to bring loud ass troublemakers in here."

"Excuse me?" You answered, annoyance making its way into your voice. Standing now, your hands balled at your sides, trying your best to be intimidating. Kind of hard when the man you're trying to scare has at least a whole foot, maybe more, on you. "My house, my rules. Got a problem?" He sneered, looking down his nose at you. In your inebriated state, it only made you more annoyed. "Yeah actually. You can't talk to me like that. You don't know me." He scoffed, "Scuse me Princess, didn't mean to insult the invisible crown you put on that pretty little head of yours."

Your eyes widened, stomach filling with a warmth as it proceeded to do somersaults. What the fuck? Your body was betraying you but you weren't about to let this dick know that.

"Whatever," you responded back, crossing your arms. A smirk played its way onto his lips. You didn't like the look of that. "She come home with ya?" He walked into the kitchen, switching on the light and illuminating the area. Now you could truly see every dip and curve, bump of his muscle. Fuck, who sculpted him? The clink of a beer bottle being pulled from the fridge pulled you from your daze. "Bathroom. She's in the bathroom." He hummed, tipping his head back as he popped the lid off with his hand. His throat bobbed, a few drops of the liquor ran down his chin. But he made no attempts to wipe it off.

"Ya sure you're her friend? Feel like I woulda remembered a laugh that obnoxious."

And there he went again, he truly was as much of an asshole as your friend said. "Like you'd know, you're barely home. A real deadbeat." You crossed your arms, a sick angry feeling filling your gut. He didn't say anything, the silence was deafening until you heard heavy footsteps. Toji moved through the kitchen and stopped just in front of you. His fingers grasp your chin, causing you to gasp as you look up at him like a deer in headlights. "Got a mouth on ya.." His rough thumb pressed against your bottom lip. "Someone should fix that."

A loud crash sounded from the bathroom and he pulled away. "I swear to God, if she broke her fucking neck." Toji sighed, craning his neck to get a better look at the bathroom door. Which in turn, gave you a better look at him. Heat was radiating off his skin, his enormous pecs were practically the only thing in your line of vision. Soon the bathroom door slammed open and you hadn't noticed till now, but he'd moved back to behind the counter. "Shit," your friend giggled. "Hope that didn't wake up my-" She paused, eyes slowly blinking as she assessed the situation. "Dad!" She screamed, rushing over to wrap her arms around his neck. "Can't believe you forgot my birthday," she pouted. Leaving her father to roll his eyes, pushing her off him. "Ya get enough during the year, you don't need a celebration." Your friend only pouted more as she crossed her arms. "S'not fair." Her bottom lip wobbled but Toji didn't buy any of it. "Not gonna work," he replied, taking another generous swig of his alcohol.

"Ugh, asshole." She turned on her feet, heading up the stairs. He shook his head, "Bitch." And he only received a finger in response. What a strange dynamic.

"Ya gonna go with her or stare holes into me for the rest of the night?"

You blinked, eyes coming back into focus. "Like I'd stare at you." You tried your best to sound annoyed, ignoring the lingering heat you felt in your stomach. Had he really grazed your lip with his thumb like that? The feeling was still there. He only hummed, dragging his eyes up and down your body. "Just fucking keep it down ya?" Toji finished off his beer before crushing it, tossing it into the trash and headed back upstairs. And you finally felt yourself breathe for the first time.

'What the fuck?'

You thought, trying to shake it out of your mind as you went upstairs too. Giving about a minute or two after her dad had left, you trudged up the stairs. Any alcohol that was in your system had subsided, leaving you a fuzzy mess. And you couldn't help but sigh when you entered your friend's room, where you found her passed out, face down in the bed. With heavy limbs, you pulled yourself to her bed and laid down. Tugging some of the blankets before falling asleep.

It was roughly 2am when you woke up, the heavy weight of your friend's leg on your stomach had triggered the urge to go to the bathroom.

With a huff, you moved her off and walked out of the room. Eyes halfway closed as you walked to the bathroom. Doing your business with a yawn, sight and hearing both a little muffled and blurry from just waking up. After finishing up, you open the door only for you to pause. Low grunts and moans made their way into your ears. Curiosity burned and you softly shut the door, tiptoeing towards where the noise was coming from; the living room.

Holy fuck.

You quickly covered your mouth to prevent your thoughts from escaping your mouth. There, on the couch, was Toji. Hand slicked with spit as he stroked up and down his thick cock. God, it was huge. How did he even walk around with that thing? You wondered. You couldn't tear your eyes away. His rough thumb pressed against his slit, smearing the beads of pre that formed there around the tip. Long, thick, veins ran up the length, pulsing each time he ran his hand over them. You should stop watching. This was private…and he was an asshole! You reminded yourself. But your pussy had other ideas. Already, you could feel yourself get wet watching as the scene unfolded.

His head rested on the back of the couch. Teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he fucked his fist. You pressed your thighs together, easing the growing ache.

"Ya just gonna watch, or are you gonna join me?"

A/N: There will be a part 2, promise♡

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you

[mediumgayitalian]

“Oh, gods.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, gods.”

Nico scowls, wrenching just eyes away from Will’s poorly-covered grin and shaking shoulders.

It’s not that bad. It isn’t.

Sure, the complete lack of lighting except Greek fire torches makes the cabin look like a little piece of the Underworld, right here on the surface. But that’s comforting. Honestly. Nico knows the Underworld. It’s — familiar.

And, yeah. It would, probably, be pertinent to have some furniture, or something. At least somewhere for him to store his clothes, because he has more than one set of those now, and maybe a shelf, or something. And, admittedly, the obsidian altar could take up a little less space than it currently does.

But it’s not that bad.

“Are those. Coffin shaped beds.”

The tone of Will’s voice is unlike he’s ever heard it. He turns back to face him, slowly, and finds him biting his fist, hard, every muscle of his body tense as live wire.

“I was twelve godsdamn years old,” Nico snaps. “Forgive me if interior design wasn’t my passion.”

Solace loses it.

In his defense, not that Nico is too worried about defending him, he does appear to try very hard to not lose it. When the first giggle slips out of his lips, he clamps his jaw shut tighter. When his whole body begins to shake with the force of repressing his laughter, he curls inward, as if making himself smaller might reduce the chance of a lapse in control.

But then he glances back inside and looks, really looks, at the dreary, stone walls, the lone skeletons standing guard, and the plush, teakwood black coffin bunk beds, and he collapses to the floor.

“I’m going to open a chasm beneath you,” Nico threatens. “You are going to fall and crack your spine into a million pieces on the bank of the Styx, rotting there with every other forgotten hope.”

“You are a Black Parade lyric personified,” Will wheezes.

Nico doesn’t know what that means, so he kicks him. Unfortunately, he only laughs harder.

“I mean it, Solace. It’s a long way down to the Underworld. You will spend the entire fall petrified with the knowledge that nothing can save you.”

For added effect, Nico makes the floor under the medic’s body shake, makes the tip of a skeleton hand peek out from the earth.

Ironically, this stops Will’s laughter, but not for the reason Nico was aiming for.

“Hey!” A bright blue flipflop-clad foot darts out and collides With Nico’s ankle, sending him sprawling. “I said no spooky magic for the next two months! Put that skeleton away!”

“Fuck off, Solace! It’s barely half a bone! You are so annoying!”

“That’s my specialty.” Will pushes himself upright. He waits until Nico sits up, too, so he can catch his eye before his face splits into a dazzling grin. Actual sparkles seem to flicker beside his face. “And you are ever so easy to annoy.”

Nico stares, unimpressed.

“Anyways.” Will coughs. “You can’t stay here, Neeks —”

“Don’t call me that.”

“— it’s straight-up too depressing.” He peers inside. “It’s also cold, and, like…borderline unliveable? So. As your doctor, I can’t allow it.”

“You’re a medic,” Nico says, raising an eyebrow, “first of all, not a doctor. Second of all, you can’t tell me what to do. Third of all — where am I supposed to sleep? The woods?”

“Hm. Good question.”

Will gets to his feet, brushing the dirt off his shorts and offering Nico a hand. After a second of hesitation, he takes it, allowing Will to haul him up.

“C’mon!”

Nico snatches his hand away, face burning. (Gods. Why does Will have to be so…touchy-feely? And why does it always do weird things to Nico’s stomach?) But it hardly takes a look over Will’s shoulder before Nico’s feet are following after him, without his permission.

“Where are we going?”

“Well, my dad’s kind of a hoe,” Will says matter-of-factly. Nico chokes. Will’s grin widens. “And our cabin was built with that in mind. I know we’ve got an extra bunk or two for ya. Hurry up!”

This…cannot be allowed. Nico doesn’t have a ton of Camp Half-Blood experience, or anything, but as far as he knows, Hermes is the only cabin that can really do that. He doesn’t want to incur the wrath of Apollo, or whatever, by staying in his cabin uninvited.

Well. Will’s inviting him, technically. And there’s a confidence to his offer, like maybe this isn’t the first time he’s done it.

“What if I don’t want to live in your stupid sunshine-y cabin,” Nico grumbles, trying to cover up his nerves. “Holding hands and singing about how much I love being alive isn’t really my cup of tea.”

Will snorts. “Oh, di Angelo,” he says dramatically, shaking his head, “you are in for a world of discovery. Welcome to the Cabin Apollo. Take your shoes off at the door and remember that Kayla bites.”

———

Living in the Apollo cabin is strange.

Four days in, and Nico is only just starting to get used to it. He’s not entirely unused to sharing space with people — he’s had two sisters — but the Apollo kids argue like they enjoy doing it. One minute, Will and Kayla will be screaming at each other at the top of their lungs about touching each other’s shit, then they’re teaming up to pull Gracie off Yan’s face for the exact same argument, only now they offer sage advice on respecting boundaries and compromising. It’s bizarre.

(Austin is pretty chill, actually. Nico has noticed him starting quite a few fights — it was he, in fact, who moved Will’s shit and then gracefully framed Kayla — but he has a very powerful eyebrow raise and a very powerful image as Unproblematic. He has quickly become Nico’s favourite.)

He’s only just barely beginning to understand how they work together, and the struggle comes in because everything is so chaotic. When Nico spent time with Hazel in New Rome, she was in the barracks. He never really had to worry about squabbling over counter space in the bathroom with her, because she had her own little toiletry caddie like everyone else, and bathrooms were public. With Bianca — well. There’s no one alive who knows this about her, but she was bossy. She was sweet and wonderful and self-sacrificing and brave and kind and the centre of Nico’s life, but by the gods, did she take her authority as a big sister seriously. She ordered Nico around all the time. He never had to worry much about when he would have the chance to use the bathroom they shared at the Lotus, or who got the T.V. remote, or who go to sit on the bus instead of standing, because he was not the one deciding. He could stick his tongue out and whine all he wanted, but she was boss. He knew that.

The Apollo kids are not like that.

As well as Nico can figure, it’s kind of a free-for-all. You want first shower? Either wake up the earliest — a strategy only Will every manages to employ with any success — or manage to jab an elbow in someone’s rib and sprint. You want whoever’s humming to shut the hell up so you can sleep? Make sure your threats are quick and believable, or just straight up start throwing shit until they finally stop. You want the coveted middle of the bench spot at breakfast? Well, tough shit on that one, actually. Nico has yet to make that one happen for himself.

He won’t admit it, but he has kind of learned to enjoy it. It’s annoying, and the Apollo siblings do indeed sing at all hours of the day (although the content usually skews more towards diss tracks and delighted insults, if not straight-up curses), and it is so godsdamn bright in there, seriously, is it a gimmick or what, but there’s something to be said about the fact that he’s so surrounded by people and chaos that he hasn’t even had the chance to feel lonely. Not even at night, panting to himself after a nasty nightmare, because all it takes is a particularly loud snore from Will one bunk down to remember where he is. To remember that he’s safe — by demigod standards, at least.

But, still.

He kind of misses his privacy.

“Will,” he whispers urgently, on his fifteenth day of rooming with the Apollo weirdos.

The medic hums noncommittally, attention very focused on the test tube in front of him. Nico has been fighting the urge to try and launch a piece of dust inside it for forty minutes, just to make him explode.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Sounds good, Nico.”

Nico narrows his eyes. “You’re ignoring me.”

“Uh-huh. Agreed.”

“I can say anything I want right now.”

“Sure. Maybe double check with Austin.”

“…I’m going to put a colony of ants in your pillowcase.”

“Good idea.”

“Then I’m going to douse your hair products in gasoline and set them aflame.”

“Baller.”

“After that I’m gonna read your super secret diary to the entirety of camp at singalong tonight.”

“You betcha.”

“And then I’m going to shadow travel to Russia.”

Will blinks, frowning. “Hey, no shadow-travelling. What’s this I hear about shadow-travelling?”

Nico rolls his eyes. “Nothing, stupid. You were just ignoring me.”

Will smiles guiltily. “Aw, I’m sorry, Neeks. Got focused on this. I’m finished in twenty, then I’m all yours?”

“…Don’t call me Neeks,” Nico grumbles, furious with himself for how quick he’s relented under wide blue puppy-dog eyes.

“Sorry, Neeks.”

Huffing at Will’s quiet laughter, Nico slides off the nurse’s station counter and wanders around the empty infirmary. Things have luckily finally cooled down in here, nearly three weeks after the end of the Giant War. Some of the exhaustion has faded from Will’s features now that he’s had time to sleep properly.

Not that Nico has noticed, or anything.

“Okay,” Will says a few minutes later, holding his hands up protectively in front of his geeky little setup. “I just gotta do this last step, so long as I calculated it right, it should be fine…” He squeezes a drop of something into the liquid bubbling over the burner, freezing immediately. One, two, three seconds pass and nothing happens, so Will relaxes, sighing in relief and turning to face Nico fully. “Okay, we’re good. What was it you wanted to —”

The text tube contents explode in his face, dousing him in slimey green goo.

Nico bursts out laughing.

“Great,” Will says darkly, swiping the stuff from his eyes. “The one day I don’t wear goggles. Great.”

Nico gasps, sides aching. “Oh my gods —”

“Feel free to help, di Angelo.”

“— you look like a cartoon! Your face!”

It takes Will twelve cloths and seven whole minutes to clean himself and the nurse’s station off of the goo. Nico cackles at him the whole time, and tastefully does not mention the many globs of goo that remain caked in his hair.

“Whenever you’re done.”

Will is very, very bad at being stern when he doesn’t really mean it. And he doesn’t really mean it now, because every time he tries to glare at Nico, his mouth twitches.

“I’m good,” Nico finally wheezes, forcing his face back to normal. “I’m good, I’m good.”

He very pointedly does not look at Will’s hair.

“Dick,” Will huffs, fondness bleeding into his tone. “What did you want?”

He must notice the change in tone at his asking, because he clears the bench fully, hoisting himself on top of it and patting the spot next to him. Nico hesitates for half a second, then crawls up, sitting criss cross applesauce, knees touching.

“I need to move back to my cabin,” he manages, finally.

Will’s face betrays no judgement or emotion. “Oh?”

“Yes.” He picks at a loose thread in his jeans. “I need — space.”

The thread loosens, allowing Nico to tug on it. A hole begins to unravel along the seam as he pulls and pulls and pulls. He stops himself before it gets too wide, tearing the thread off and winding it around his fingers.

“I can tell everyone to tone it down,” Will offers softly, eyebrows creased. “We’ll be more quiet, we’ll —”

Nico places a hand on his knee, cutting off his sentence. “It’s not about that, I promise. You guys have been great.”

A wounded look still pulls at Will’s strong features, as much as he visibly tries to pull his face back to something more supportive. “It’s not?”

“No, no. It’s just —” He frowns, trying to articulate the tangled mess of his thoughts. “I have my own cabin.”

“So?”

“And I can’t stay in yours forever.”

“I mean, you could.”

“Chiron’s been giving me looks, Will.”

“So what! I’ll — write you a doctor’s note, or something!”

Nico snorts. “A doctor’s note letting me sleep in your cabin?”

Will nods fervently, although he seems to acknowledge the ridiculousness of his suggestion, if the grin on his face is any indication. “Yes! For medical reasons, you know.” He mimes writing. “‘Patient’s cabin is dank and sad. To avoid bouts of misery, patient must sleep in the presence of the coolest and best and prettiest and most uplifting people in camp.’”

“Hm. Not sure Chiron’s gonna buy that last part. Not sure I buy that last part, actually.”

“Hey.”

Nico dodges Will’s shove, chuckling.

“Seriously, though, Will. This was never a long term solution, right?”

“I know. You’re cabin just — sucks so bad, man. No offense.”

“I take great offense to that, actually. My cabin is art.”

“Sure, Eddie Cullen.”

“I don’t know who that is, so that’s a horrible insult.”

“Travesty, honestly.”

Outside the open infirmary windows, Nico can hear distant, triumphant screaming, laughter, and the clang of metal. Today’s a good day. The weather’s balmier than usual, for late August, and some of the gloom that’s hung over everyone’s head for the bast few weeks seems to have lifted.

“You can’t go back to your cabin like it is,” Will says into the silence, startling Nico, “but —” he grins when Nico begins to protest, holding up his hand. “We can definitely change it up.”

He slides off the bench, botching his landing and almost sprawling on the floor. He holds a dramatic hand out to Nico when he rights himself. Nico ignores it, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet by himself.

“C’mon,” Will says, grabbing his hand anyway. Sparks shoot up Nico’s arm. “We need to go ask Chiron for the van keys and approximately five hundred dollars.”

———

Three hours is too fucking long to be in a vehicle. Especially when Will is driving, because all he does is play nonstop country music and let everybody cut in front of him.

“I’m driving us back,” Nico informs him as they (finally) get out of the stupid van, snatching the keys from his hands.

Will shrugs. “Sure.”

Nico had expected more of a fight, honestly. But he supposes neither of them are legally allowed to drive, age-wise, and besides, Nico technically has seventy years of driving experience on Will.

(…The Lotus had a racetrack.

Nico was very, very good at it.)

“What is this place, anyway?”

“This place,” Will says grandly, throwing an arm over his shoulders, “is essentially the mortal version of the Labyrinth, minus, you know, the soul-sucking terror.”

“Okay. All that’s telling me is that you have horrible ideas and we should leave immediately.”

Will rolls his eyes. “It’s a furniture store.”

“Well, then —” he punches Will’s shoulder, huffing when he only laughs. “Say that, then!”

“But then what would I do with all the drama in my heart?”

“Choke on it, hopefully!”

Ikea is weird.

Since Will did not tell him what the plan was, he didn’t draw up any plans. Luckily, Will has the dimensions of his cabin — although where he got them, Nico does not ask — so they spend an hour or so in the cafe drawing out a plan.

“You need more than two beds, Neeks.”

“Uh, no I don’t. Unless my father has something very important to announce to me, I need a bed for me, and a bed for Hazel.”

“What if I want to sleep over?”

“You can sleep on the porch.”

Mostly, they wander around the sets. Nico isn’t really sure what he wants his cabin to look like — he has to remind himself that yes, actually, he cares about the space he’ll be spending at least the next three years of his life in. It’s a startling reality, to have control over his own space. He must’ve had some say in his childhood bedroom, but he has no memory of it. He spent the most time in his and Bianca’s room at the Lotus, but that was already furnished when they got there, and besides, it only felt like they were there for less than a year. It always felt like a hotel room, never his room. Westminster was no different. His room in his father’s palace had already been designed, too. In fact he’d based his cabin on it.

What does Nico want his bedroom to look like, without someone else deciding for him?

“I’m not getting a fucking Lightning McQueen bed, Solace.”

“But it would be so sick! And look — it’s got little cubbies!”

“I’m going to ditch you, and shadow travel back to camp,” Nico threatens. “And I have the van keys, so you’ll be stuck here for real.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” Will looks at him sternly, hands on hips. “No shadow travelling for you, Death Breath. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fade into nothing on my watch.”

“I’m joking,” Nico says, exasperated, but cannot deny the warmth that fills him up at Will’s concern.

In the end, he decides on a pretty normal bed. It’s bigger than Will’s bunk (“Or anyone else’s bed,” Will grumbles, “you lucky asshole.”), but not ridiculously designed. He picks a similar size for Hazel, only the frame is white, not black, and the bedspread that comes with it is a soft, coral pink that he knows she will like.

“Wanna see if they’ve got a Mythomagic bedspread for yours?” Will teases.

That would be the coolest thing ever in the entire world, Nico thinks, and is so embarrassed that he shoves Will, shrieking, into a giant basket of pillows for making him think it.

“Obviously I don’t want that.”

“You are such a turd! I’ll get you, di Angelo!”

He does not. Nico is way too sneaky for him, and after the fifth time Nico manages to give him the slip, he gives up, sulking in a display for a bedroom of a nine year old girl.

“Fitting,” Nico teases, gesturing to the princess wallpaper. “You drama queen.”

“Buzz off.”

Next, they look for furniture. It’s pretty easy — Nico doesn’t need much, and he’s not too concern with cut or style or anything. He quickly picks out two dressers, one to match Hazel’s bed frame, and one to match his, and then a couple bookshelves.

Four hours into their trip, Nico is exhausted. They have a three hour drive ahead of them, they’ve been out all day, and he wants to go home.

But Will stops him before they go get all the boxes for their furniture.

“This is still pretty bare bones,” he says quietly, then grins at his own accidental pun. Nico shoots him a venomous look, warning him against making it more obvious, and for once he actually listens. “You know, we’re still under budget. We’ve got around $200 left — we can get a motel, stay the night, then we don’t have to drive back right away. And tomorrow, maybe we can check out some other stores, look for smaller decorations and stuff. And if we don’t have to drive back tonight, we’ve maybe got another hour in here, if you wanted to get a couple more pieces.”

Nico opens his mouth to refuse — that’s way too much effort to spend on one person’s cabin, c’mon — then pauses, thinking about it.

Chiron hadn’t even thought about it before handing them the money. Will had barely gotten the words out before he’d started counting out the bills.

“I want you to make a home here,” the centaur had said, touching his hand. There was a pain in his kind eyes, stopping any protests. “I made a mistake, Nico, the first time you came here. In another life, you felt welcome enough to stay the whole time. Take what you need.”

What does he need? What does home look like, to him?

“There was a beanbag chair, in our room at the Lotus,” he says, pushing the words past the lump in his throat. “Me and Bianca used to fight over it.” His voice shakes. A tear gathers at the corner of his eye, and he blinks it back. “It wasn’t real fighting. When I called mercy she’d — scoop me up and throw me on it and squish in after me, and we’d sit together and play video games. Or read. She liked to read.”

Will squeezes his trembling hands. “We can get a beanbag chair.”

“And I — don’t like the blackout curtains. The dark makes me think of — the pit.”

“Okay. They sell lotsa lamps here, too. Might be nicer than the Greek fire.”

Nico nods. There’s — more, far more ideas, now, flooding his brain; Hazel crowding over him on a rug-covered floor, shrieking as he teases her about Frank; a desk tucked in the corner where Will sits, mouthing along to his textbooks as Nico sharpens his sword; Jason running his fingers along rows of books on a big, cluttered shelf; Reyna with her fist curled around her mouth, studying a chess board across from him, hair shining under the natural light from the window.

He can have that. He can have that.

Thankfully, all their stuff fits in the back of the van. Despite his insistence earlier, Nico hands Will the keys, and he drives around until he finds a shitty motel with a vacancy sign flashing out front. He pulls into the farthest corner of the parking lot, killing the engine, then waits.

“You okay?”

Nico shrugs. “I’m…not sure.”

“That’s okay,” Will assures, pressing a fleeting touch to his shoulder. Nico grabs his wrist before he moves away, tugging down his hand and linking their fingers together.

For once, it doesn’t make him feel all sparky. The warmth of Will’s hands is grounding, and so is the gentle squeeze, the smile he feels pointed in his direction.

“C’mon. Let’s check in and sleep, huh?”

Nico’s exhaustion compounds in the walk from the car to the lobby, so by the time Will is speaking quietly to the host, he’s half asleep, leaning on Will’s shoulder. He vaguely feels it when Will shifts his weight, sliding a hand around his waist to hold him better. He blinks and they’re standing in front of a door.

“Almost there, Death Boy,” he murmurs. “Hold on a sec.”

It takes him six separate tries to make the keycard work. He gets huffy when Nico snickers tiredly at him.

“Finally, yeesh.”

He guides Nico in, dropping the backpack he brought somewhere near the door. As soon as the bed is within Nico’s sights, he makes a beeline, barely remembering to shuck his shoes and jacket.

“Please do not sleep in your jeans.”

“Mmmfuck off,” Nico groans, already sliding under the covers. He’ll regret it in the morning, but whatever.

“Goober.” Callused hands brush through his hair, resting lightly on his forehead. “Goodnight, Nico.”

Nico’s out before he can even think to respond.

———

He wakes up, in the middle of the night, scream caught in his throat and heart pounding in his ears. The air smells like smoke and fear. The rushing of the Phlegethon is so loud it’s overpowering.

A loud snore knocks him back to reality.

Crawling desperately towards the source of the sound, he hangs over the bed, eyes adjusting rapidly to the dark to see a curled lump on the floor, head resting on his own hands. A quick glance behind him confirms the other half of the bed has been left untouched.

“Stupid,” he mumbles, tiny smile chasing away the last of his fear.

He tugs the blankets off the mattress, pulls off the two pillows, and joins his dumbass, selfless friend on the floor.

———

“Question,” Will asks, swallowing the last of their disgustingly delicious greasefest of a breakfast. “Were you alive when Walmart was invented?”

“I was alive before your great grandmother was.”

“No, I mean — were you out and kickin’. Have you strolled the endless aisles of corporate soullessness, basking in the wonder of American overconsumerism?”

“…You’re such a weird, particular person.”

Will looks delighted. “You’re a Walmart newbie!”

He pulls into the dead, cracked parking lot way too happily for this hour in the morning. Nico would even say he takes the nearest exit to get to the store gleefully. He is embarrassed for him.

Walmart is…underwhelming.

As stupid as it is, Will had hyped it up so much that Nico was almost a little excited. It just looked like any other basic superstore. Will, for whatever reason, seemed delighted by that fact.

“I do not like this store,” he explained when Nico asked, expression not matching his words, “it just means so very much to me that you are joining me in the misery of having experienced it.”

They spend more time than they mean to just dicking around. At one point they nearly get thrown out by management, because Will finds a pair of NERF guns that some child dug out of its packaging and no words need to be spoken. They gear up and scamper off, hunting each other through fluorescent-lights hell.

“Please just get your shit and leave,” says the very tired looking manager, and they have the good gall to at least appear embarrassed as they mumble, “Yes, ma’am.”

It doesn’t take long when they have their head on straight. They get some fairy lights, a couple cool posters, dorky little trinkets that Nico probably doesn’t need, per se, but what was he supposed to do, leave the little plastic crow skeleton behind?

Unlikely.

With his own money, Will buys several cans of paint and a CD. He explains neither of these purchases. The look on his face gets steadily more infuriating as they make their way through the line, and Nico really, truly considers leaving him behind.

The purchase of the CD becomes very obvious very quickly. Even though Nico is driving, and therefore Nico should get music control, Will pouts and pleads until Nico gives in and lets him play his stupid country album. He justifies his decision in his own brain by noticing the radiance of Will’s smile as he belts out the words, badly, at the top of his lungs. He then spends the rest of the drive back to camp convincing himself not to be embarrassed for having said thoughts.

They get back to camp about lunch time, and Will destroys any attempt for a subtle reentry by whistling the second they cross the property line.

“Austin! Kayla!” he hollers, making Nico jump. “Come help us unload!”

“We coulda done it ourselves,” Nico grumbles.

Will pats his head condescendingly. “It has been twenty-four long, long hours since I’ve bosses my siblings around, Neeks. I need this.”

It does go by quite a bit quicker with Austin and Kayla’s help. Lou Ellen, Cecil, Yan, and Gracie come to help, too, but Gracie’s too little to carry much more than a small desk lamp. Instead, they lay down the biggest box — Nico’s bed frame — and let her climb on top of it, carrying her like she’s a queen atop a throne back to Nico’s cabin. She has the time of her life, giggling to herself like a madwoman.

By the time everything’s unloaded, a couple hours have passed, and the Hades cabin looks like a clusterfuck.

“Maybe you stay in Apollo a couple more nights,” Will suggests.

“Might have to,” Nico agrees. Will looks inordinately pleased with himself.

All in all, it takes about two days to disassemble the old furniture, get rid of it, and start putting together the new stuff. Will helps for most of it, but he has a few shifts in the infirmary, so Nico ends up trying to do a fair bit on his own.

“May the wrath of Zeus come down upon this fucking piece of shit, no good, poorly designed garbage-looking idiotic mother fuc —”

“Maybe time for a break from furniture assembling?” suggests a voice, accompanied by a quick knock in the open door. Will leans on the doorframe, grinning, box propped up on his hip.

“Will, thank the gods,” Nico sighs, relieved. He angrily shakes a tool in his direction. “Allen wrenches are fucking useless. I’m three seconds away from throwing this through the window.”

“Definitely time for a switch, then.”

Will’s smile is wide and crinkles his eyes. He’s got dimples, too, Nico is now noticing, and then very rapidly un-noticing then because gods above that is a dangerous path.

“Did you and Rachel get into another prank war?” he asks, praying the flush on his cheeks goes away.

Will glances down at his paint-spattered clothes. “Nah, this is just my painting outfit. Why ruin more than one set of clothes, you know?” He sets down the box in the middle of the room, then heads for the half-built furniture sprawled all throughout the cabin, tugging it all towards the middle. Nico inches towards the box, curious, and finds it full of dozens of paint cans and brushes, including the ones he got at Walmart.

“I didn’t know you painted.”

He flashes another grin in Nico’s direction. This one has a little mischief to it, a little teasing. His stomach swoops.

“Gotta have at least one artistic talent or my dad would disown me. Help me tape down this tarp, will you?”

It takes them twenty minutes to prep the room, protecting the floor and the furniture. Once everything is ready, Will jogs over to the CD player he gave Nico a few days ago, flicking through the stack of CDs and choosing one at random. Soft opera music begins to float around the cabin.

“Okay,” he begins, clapping his hands, “first we need a base coat. Get the white paint and the rollers.”

It takes them the rest of the day, painting until dinner, then waiting past sunset for it to dry. Nico follows Will back to his cabin that night — he wouldn’t let him sleep around the paint fumes — and the two of them return the next morning, re-donning their paint-spattered clothes. Will braids his hair, this time, tucking the little pigtails behind a kerchief. It makes Nico smile every time he looks at him.

As much as he’s in painting clothes, Nico doesn’t really do much of the painting. He stays in the centre of the room, half assembling furniture, half watching Will bring his walls to life with more colours than he’s ever seen in one place.

Will doesn’t ask what Nico wants him to paint in his murals. Instead, Nico watches as the streets of Venice begin to unfold on one of the walls, bright and blue and exactly as he remembers, even though he knows for a fact Will has never been. The shining fruit of his stepmother’s garden is next, with a notable absence of the pomegranate tree, and then the hills of New Rome, the sunflower field in rural New York Nico used to visit, the Chinese mountainscape from the first big shadow travelling jump he ever made. Even the poplar forests of the Underworld, looking much kinder and livelier in Will’s rendition than in real life, with Mrs. O’Leary and Cerberus chasing each other through the flickering leaves. Beautiful, colourful, breathtaking scenes; Nico’s favourite places, Nico’s many homes.

“I get a lot of dreams,” Will admits, dragging a smear of rich purple near the ceiling. “You’re in a lot of them. These are the places you’re smiling, the most.”

“They’re beautiful, Will.” Nico’s throat is drier than any desert he’s ever been to. “Gods, they’re more beautiful here than they are in real life.”

“Liar,” Will teases, although his smile is shy.

Nico has never seen him smile like that. He’s seen a lot more of Will in these past few days, actually; his softness, his kindness, his love.

He has only knows Will for a little over a month, he thinks. But Will loves him. That much is obvious.

“Hey.”

“Hm?”

His eyes are still trained on his work. He is on his tiptoes on a step stool, one leg extended precariously, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth. The curve of his brush is careful, meticulous. Only the best for his friends, for Nico. That’s Will.

“Hey,” Nico says again, more urgently. He steps forward, wrapping his fingers around his wrist.

“Just a sec, Neeks, as soon as I’m done we can —”

Nico pulls until he loses his balance, falling into Nico’s arms. He stares into wide, blue blue eyes, for one second, two, then presses their lips together. Will’s squeak of surprise is swallowed by his mouth, hands sliding up his arms to cup his face, tilting his head to the side.

“Oh,” he sighs, eyelashes ticking Nico’s cheeks as they flutter close. “Oh.”

He melts into Nico’s hold. There’s a thunk and a crinkle as his paintbrush falls from his loose fingers, splattering onto the tarp, and paint-wet hands tangle into his hair. Nico finds he doesn’t mind.

“You love me,” he murmurs in between breaths, lips brushing Will’s with every word.

“Yes,” Will breathes. He kisses Nico again, and again. “A lot.”

“Good.” He’s not sure if it’s the paint fumes making him lightheaded, or the odd, slightly uncomfortable position, or the intoxicating, delirious feel of Will’s warm skin. He’s not sure if he cares. “Good.”

It’s not quite an I-love-you-too. The words won’t form on his tongue, so instead he tightens his hold, sending them that way, and presses closer, closer, closer.

Will smiles into the kiss.

He understands just fine.

#i could write an essay about how i think they’re dynamic would be immediately post three days in the infirmary #also i fit SO MANY of my personal headcanons in here hell yeah #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #nico di angelo #will solace #solangelo #nico/will #will/nico #gently falling in love #love #i’m tagging it bc. will loves so clearly in this one it kills me a little #fic #my writing #longpost

[lostgirlfandom]

Dad's Got Your Back

Pairing: Father!Hannibal x GN!Teen!Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence

Words: 594

Your dad was going to be so mad when you got home.  

The fact that your clothes were torn in places and your face was bruised over your right eye and cheek. A split lip and a small scrap at your hairline had a bead of blood that was dried on your forehead. There were also bruises lining your right jawline and scraps on your elbows from when you fell.  

You hated the kids at school. Especially the ones that didn’t like how quiet you were and barely showed emotion... very much like your father. And so, some of the other students thought that was weird. And some students can be cruel.  

Your father was also more than likely going to retaliate with your help if he asked for it. Just like your father, your anger was quiet and came when they least expected it. Very unpredictable.  

-

Getting off the bus at the drop off corner, you walked down the street to the house with your bag on your shoulder. One of your arms was across your stomach as it twinge with pain every time you moved a certain way.  

Walking the block and a half to the house, you sighed as you realized that your dad was going to be pissed. Your head was down as you took your key out and unlocked the door and walked in.  

You kept your head down as you took your shoes off and put your bag down on the hallway hook for your bag. You started to head towards the stairs but you were cut off by your father in the kitchen entrance way with a towel in his hands, cleaning them.  

You didn’t greet him like you usually do... which made him suspicious.  

“Y/N...” his tone of voice made you freeze with your foot on the first step of the stairs.  

“Hi, dad.” You spoke softly as you took your foot off the step and turned halfway to him. Your head was tilted down.  

You heard his footsteps as he walked to stand next to you. Without saying anything, he took your chin and tilted it back up and towards him. “Never lower your head to anyone.” He told you as he examined your face. You looked into his eyes for a brief moment before looking at his forehead, never fully able to look into his eyes for very long.  

But you did notice his eyes turning hard and cold as he took in the damage.  

You sighed as he chucked your chin. “Bathroom. I’ll have to clean it. And while I’m doing that, you’ll tell me all about what happened.” He told you as he turned your body to head to the dining room, putting his hand on your shoulders to sit you down before going to get the first aid kit.  

Sighing, you stared at the wall.  

-

He came back with the kit and set about cleaning you up. He stayed silent, knowing you will eventually talk about it.  

Which you did.  

And his mask slowly got harder and colder as you explained the other teens at school not liking the fact on how well behaved or stoic you were.

As he finished cleaning you up, he sighed and nodded. “I believe it’s time to stock up again, Y/N.” he smirked and chucked your chin again. “You’ll help me, won’t you.”  

You gave tight grin and nodded.  

He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, at your hairline where the injury was. Your eyes closed and you smirked internally.  

Like father, like child.  

#hannibal imagine #hannibal x reader #gender neutral reader #reader insert #platonic reader #daddy hannibal #fandom imagine #fandom one shot #mads mikkelsen imagine #mads mikkelsen one shot

[billthedrake]

THE AD AND SON (PART TWO)

It was the third day at the cabin and uncharacteristically, Brian woke up before his dad.

He slipped out of bed and found some sweats to put on. He'd hoped to spend the week in the cabin without putting on clothes, but the air was nippy this morning.

As he stepped into the living room he could see why. Outside the plate glass window a foot and a half of snow blanketed the ground.

Brian took a minute to enjoy the serenity of the view then went to make coffee, mostly for his father, though he'd been drinking it more the last month, trying to make himself like it. Partly because he felt it was the grown-up thing to do, and partly because it was something his father enjoyed.

Brian wasn't good at cooking, and his dad usually made anything more complicated in the Casey home. But Brian could do breakfast and he proceeded to cook some bacon and get the eggs ready.

His dad had an eager look on his face as he stepped in, wearing his university sweatshirt and some pajama pants. "Man, this is a treat," he said, taking the coffee mug from Brian's hands. "How long you been up?"

"About a half hour," Brian said. "Looks like we got a snow storm last night."

Dan padded over to the window and looked out. "Well, I'll be." He looked over at Brian. "Hope you're not hoping to go anywhere any time soon."

"We're trapped here?" Brian asked, a little concern in his voice.

"Trapped's a strong word. But it'll take a few days for the snow to melt enough to be passable. Still not wishing you'd gone to the Caribbean instead?" he laughed.

Brian plated breakfast for the two of them and came to sit at the counter next to his dad. "Eat up old man. We're going out and playing in the snow after breakfast."

"Is that right?" Dan smirked, stuffing a piece of bacon in his mouth.

"Yes, sir."

That's what they did. They geared up with thermal shirts and wool socks and hats and gloves and trudged out into the fluffy white snow.

"It's all fine powder. Shouldn't take long to melt once the sun comes out," Dan said.

Brian reached down and gathered up some of the snow. "Damn, won't make a snowball."

"And who the hell you think you're going to be throwing snowballs at?" Dan chided playfully.

"Christ, Dad, where's your sense of fun?"

Dan's eyebrow raised up. "I'll show you, you little fuck," he growled and charged toward Brian, knocking him back into the soft powder. His muscular body landed on him with an oof!

Brian got over his surprise and started giggling, like a kid almost, and Dan started, too.

"No fair," Brian laughed.

"Who said I was fair?" Dan said with a triumphant look on his face. Damn, his son could make him feel twenty years younger.

Just then Brian craned his face up and met his father in a kiss. Dan's body froze stiff, surprised by the action.

"Come on, Dad," Brian said softly. "No one out here but us. Let loose a little."

Dan nodded and now initiated their kiss. It was liberating as hell, making out with Brian out here in the open air. And Brian was on the same wavelength, he could tell responding to his kiss eagerly.

"You're one hell of a kid, you know that?" Dan said. Finally he stood up and offered his hand to help Brian up. "Come on," he urged.

Instead Brian ignored his father's outstretched hand and sat up, reaching out to the button on the man's jeans.

"Jesus, Brian!" Dan gasped.

"What part of letting loose do you not understand, Dad," Brian asked in a challenging tone.

He had to admit the kiss and now Brian's actions were making Dan erect as he could remember. The air felt cool on his cock once Brian freed it but it wasn't exposed for long. His son swallowed it and started blowing him, right there in the open.

When it came to blowjobs, Dan preferred to give rather than receive. Part of it was Brian's inexperience. But mostly it was just the way the father was wired. He never came quickly getting head and sometimes he didn't come that way at all. Meanwhile, the feel of a hard cock in his mouth and of cum gushing down his throat was the biggest turn on.

Only now, Brian's mouth was bringing him off. Maybe it was the naughtiness of the situation. Maybe his son's cocksucking skills had gotten better. But Dan Casey was gonna cum right into his boy's throat.

"Oh Bri, Oh fuck, I'm there, son." With that he gripped Brian's head and fired his semen in a sweet wave of release.

He barely regained his senses as he watched Brian spit out a health gob of his father's semen in to his hand and reach down to smear it on his own exposed hardon. Excitedly he stood up. "Think you can stay hard, Dad?" he asked. Brian was clearly eager to get off himself.

Dan nodded. No way was his cock going down now. He watched dumbly as Brian shucked his jeans down his thighs and turned around. Those amazing butt cheeks were displayed once more.

"Put it in me sir," Brian ordered.

His son's hole was still damp with lube from their fuck the night before and it took Dan only a few seconds to work his way inside.

"Oh yeah," Brian hissed. "I think your load is still in me."

It was. Dan could feel the semen deposit on his cock as he fucked Brian in this standing position. It was cold out but their connection felt hot. After a few strokes he felt his boy's ass constrict tightly against his rod. Brian was surprisingly nonverbal as he came, just grunting as his cum shot out into the snow.

They uncoupled carefully, and each man pulled up their briefs and jeans. Dan now met Brian in a kiss. "Thanks for getting me out of my shell. That was hot."

"It was." He gave his dad another quick kiss. "Ready to go back in sir?"

Dan could tell Brian was starting to feel cold. He nodded and wrapped his arm around his son's shoulder as they walked back to the cabin. "Maybe we can play in the snow more later," Dan said hopefully.

"Yeah," Brian replied.

Dan let Brian shower first, to clean off and warm up. His son looked much happier as he stepped out into the living room in his sweats. "Your turn."

The two spent the afternoon reading. Dan was reading one of the spy novels he liked reading when he had free time. Brian was studying for his accounting class.

The afternoon was going by and Brian closed his computer, stretching his body on the sofa. Dan set down his book. "Done studying?"

Brian nodded and reached down to cup his crotch. "Too horny for accounting," he grinned.

Dan slid over and removed Brian's hand so he could see the erection forming in the jock's sweatpants. "That's probably something I can help you with," the man grinned.

"No, that's definitely something you can help with," Brian countered and pulled down his elastic band, showing off the sizable boner.

"Fuck, that's beautiful, son," Dan sighed as he stroked it up and down.

Brian smirked. Something about his dad's excitement over his cock gave the 19-year old confidence. Made him cocky even.

"You know what's even more beautiful?" he asked.

"What's that?" Dan asked looking up to meet his son's gaze.

"Your mouth around it."

Dan growled at the suggestion and hunkered down between Brian's strong legs.

Brian hissed an exhale of air as his dad took the cock into his mouth. "Aw yeah, that's it sir. Go down on me, Dad. Further. Swallow your boy's cock."

Dan did, excitedly. He'd learned to suppress his gag reflex and now could deep throat Brian's decently large size without issue. And he could give long strokes with his mouth and throat, up and down, in almost a milking action.

Thankfully Brian had held off on his initial impulse to cum and was riding out the sensations. Their sex in the morning had taken the edge off and the men could both enjoy a nice, slow suck session now.

Dan took the time to build Brian up then hold him off, licking the nuts and kissing the insides of Brian's thighs while the young man looked eagerly on his father.

About twenty minutes into the blow job, Brian came, almost suddenly in fact, shooting hard and heavy into Dan's hoovering mouth.

The father was all smiles as he pulled back. "Whoa, stud... I think that was a record."

Brian nodded, smiling himself. "Yeah, I'd say so. Fuck, that was incredible, Dad."

Dan had a proud look on his face as he leaned back on his haunches. "I think we earned ourselves a beer before dinner. What do you say?"

The men watched some weather on the TV and some Sports Center while they had their beers and relaxed.

The sun was setting as Dan got up to start on dinner.

After they ate, Dan had an impish grin. "Feel like going out into the snow again?"

Brian smiled. "I think someone liked being a little kid again," he teased.

Dan shrugged. "Truth be told, I liked being with you out in the open. Kissing you like that." He blushed a little. "I'd like to blow you out there this time."

Brian chuckled. Sometimes he thought he was the one with the bigger sex drive but his father was a horndog, too.

Dan tried to read his expression. "Or do you need more time to recover?"

Brian shook his head no. "Oh, I'm good for it, Dad. Fuck, let's do this."

They were giddy as they put on their warm clothes, which had dried off since the morning.

They stepped out into the snow, which came up to their knees as they trudged on. They walked down toward the lake. There was some dim moonlight out to light the way.

"Think anyone else is staying near the lake?" Brian asked as they came to a spot with a good view.

"Doubt it," Dan said. "If so, they surely can't see us." With that he stepped up to Brian and kissed him softly. His son returned the embrace, holding onto his dad tightly.

"I like this," the younger man said. "A lot."

"Me, too," Dan said, kissing his boy with more passion now. Finally he leaned back. "I believe I promised my son a blow job."

Brian nodded excitedly and gulped as his father squatted down in the snow. It was a real trip getting serviced like this out in the open. They were probably out of sightline for anyone but the idea that they weren't thrilled Brian, who grew harder inside his dad's bobbing mouth. Maybe he had a bigger exhibition streak than he realized.

Dan was able to take his time on Brian's dick, knowing his son's hair trigger probably wasn't going to be an issue so soon after the last blowjob.

But finally Brian felt himself getting close and he pushed his dad's shoulders to ease him off. "I don't want to come yet, Dad," he said. "Let me do you for a bit."

They traded positions and Dan exhilarated once more in the sensation of his only son blowing him. Brian was definitely getting better at this he decided. His son treated him to a few minutes of head before backing off.

"Turn around, Dad," he ordered in a husky tone.

Dan felt nervous about what his son was asking but he was also turned on. It took a little maneuvering with the depth of snow, but he turned to face away from Brian. Then he felt his boy's strong hands on his hairy ass, kneading the muscle.

"My old man's got a hell of an ass on him," Brian growled, slipping his fingers deeper into the crack.

"Bri, buddy..." he started. "I should let you know..."

"What Dad?" he asked, kissing the left ass cheek then the right.

"I've... I've never been fucked."

He could feel Brian freeze behind him. "For real, Dad?"

"Fraid so, son. I'm not sure I'm ready..." he started to say, but Brian interrupted.

"It's OK Dad."

Dan relaxed then felt his son's face nestle in his crack. He wasn't going to, was he? Sure enough, Dan felt Brian's tongue snake forward and start licking Dan's hole.

Of all his 46 years, Dan Casey had never been rimmed. The idea had even been a little repulsive to him, either giving or receiving. But here was Brian opening him up to the experience. The first licks shocked him and made his body shake but then Dan decided it felt good. Better than good. Brian's asseating had him hard a rock and dripping too. And his boy's actions were getting more confident, his tongue swipes deeper.

"That's it, boy. Eat your daddy's hole," he growled, no longer concerned someone would hear. The night was otherwise still and quiet.

Brian ate him out excitedly. He'd seen this in porn videos and had been eager to try it out for real. Finally he had to take a breath.

"Goddamn, Dad. You got an amazing ass." His fingers explored his father's brawny butt before diving in to munch some more.

"Bri... son.... let's take this inside OK?"

Brian was all smiles as he stood up and tucked his hard cock back in his pants.

They kissed and Dan thought he'd be repulsed by the muskiness he could smell on his son's face, but the scent was a faint trace and not bad at all. It turned Dan on even, kissing the mouth that had just made out with his hole.

The two weren't in a hurry and Dan got off seeing the knowing smirk on Brian's face as they walked back to the cabin.

"You liked it," Brian said.

"I won't lie to you, son," Dan admitted. "I didn't think I was going to either."

"I'm going to eat your hole more tonight."

Dan loved take-charge Brian, he decided. "Is that right?" he teased.

"Yes, sir," the teen smiled, hands in his coat as he hopped in the heavy snow. "I can't believe I waited so long to do that."

"I can't believe my own son just gave me my first rim job," Dan growled.

Brian smiled. "No way! Hot."

They kicked off their boots inside and shed their coats. As they stripped they both had boners. "Feel like warming up in the shower?" Dan asked.

"Yeah," Brian said. "You can go first if you want."

"I got a better idea. We can go at the same time," Dan smiled.

It was an intimate experience showering for the first time together. They used the occasion to explore each other's bodies. And Brian hunched down to eat Dan out some more under the shower spray. The father braced his strong body against the tile and let his boy treat him to a range of amazing sensations.

Finally they turned off the water and toweled off.

They walked back into the bedroom and Brian pulled down the covers. "Get on all fours, Dad," he instructed.

Dan felt weird following orders like this but he did as asked. And was rewarded as Brian returned to rimming his hole.

This was so taboo and nasty, and Dan loved it. Brian seemed to get off on it even more, his young dick erect and reddened with excitement.

Finally Brian pulled back and spit on his father's pucker and pushed a finger inside.

"Oooh!" Dan hissed.

"Too much, sir?" Brian asked.

"I'm good kiddo."

Brian reached over for the lube and applied to his fingers. Now two were pushing in. His father was tight as hell all right but the man seemed to be taking it OK.

"I'd never do anything you didn't want me to, sir," Brian said. "But damn, I want inside you so bad."

It was time, Dan decided. He'd been hesitant to let another man inside him like this, but if there was anyone deserving, it was Brian.

"Go for it, kiddo," he said. "Only we're doing it face to face."

"Yes, sir," Brian answered, skewering his finger's into his dad's hole, which was starting to give a little though was still snug. "Another finger first?" he asked. His father didn't object so Brian gently pushed a third finger inside.

"Easy there, son," Dan hissed, but he lay his head forward and let Brian gently wiggle more inside. His hole felt full, very full now, but it wasn't hurting. And the more Brian twisted his fingers around the more he got used to it.

Pretty soon Bri was able to pushing his digits in and out, literally doing a finger fuck motion.

"OK, Dad," he said. "Flip over."

Dan was hard and excited but nervous. But his son's kiss felt good and he loved the sensation of his built young man on top of him. Thrusting that erect son cock against his own.

The boy hoisted his legs up and nudged forward. Somehow Brian had lubed his cock and it felt slick as it bore inside. A sharp sting travelled through Dan's body. "Oh!" he yelped.

Brian held steady. "Sorry, Dad," he said with concern.

"Give me a second," Dan pleaded.

Brian nodded, patient. "Remember what you said when you took my cherry? That it would hurt at first but it'd get better quickly?"

Dan felt emotional at those words. His own words tossed back at him. "If I'd known how you felt, son..." he joked.

"You would have still fucked me," Brian countered. "You were right Dad, it starts to feel great. If you let it."

Dan nodded and decided he'd do this for his boy. Brian pushed in and was soon buried inside. Dan felt full and more than a little uncomfortable. But the sting was gone. Then another thrust. And another.

Only Dan saw his son's expression change. "You gonna cum son?"

Brian tried to hold it off but he gave a little nod as he started to come inside his dad. "Oh fuck! Oh wow!" he sighed as he came off his orgasm and started resuming his thrusts.

It turned Dan on. The knowledge that he had his son's seed buried inside him. The idea that his stud of a son was going for seconds, just like that. The idea that Brian had so confidently taken his cherry.

It made the older man hard and his insides turn to pure pleasure. "Oh, fuck. Fuck me Brian!"

"Yeah Dad!" the boy exclaimed, thrilled his dad was getting into it.

"Fuck your daddy. Fuck my hole. That cock's so good. Harder, son!"

Brian really started fucking now. His dad was on the same wavelength, thrilled at the first experience bottoming. As Brian fucked, Dan stroked and his whole body grew hot and tingly.

"Gonna cum son."

"Come on my cock, Dad. Your own son fucking you, sir."

That did it. The taboo tripped Dan's wires and he was firing off all over his chest, just seconds before Brian began his second ejaculation deep in his guts.

After cumming the sensation felt uncomfortable once more and Dan urged Brian to pull out.

"You OK, sir?" his son asked, concerned.

"More than OK," Dan grinned. "Jesus, my boy can fuck."

Brian had a proud look on his face. "You inspire me, sir."

"Inspired two healthy loads from you," Dan teased, reaching down to touch his no-longer virgin hole. It was wet with lube and Brian's seed.

"I don't think I've ever been so turned on in my life," the young man observed. "Please tell me that wasn't the last time."

"That wasn't the last time," Dan muttered as he met Brian for a kiss. He lay back on the bed and caught his breath. "Fuck. 46 and learning new tricks."

Brian lay down beside him. "Wasn't sure how you'd feel about having the tables turned."

"Mentally I'm still processing it," Dan said. "But physically... well, that was intense. I don't think I've come harder in my life."

"That's all the processing you need, Dad. Don't overthink it."

Maybe that's what he'd been doing this whole time with Brian. Overthinking it. Or swinging from not thinking to overthinking, and back. A happy medium would be nice.

"I love you, son. Very much." There, it wasn't so hard.

"God, Dad, you know I'm crazy about you, right?"

They kissed and Dan cracked wise. "I dunno. I thought maybe you were just a horny kid."

"Oh I am. But, Dad.... you're overthinking it."

#drakestories

[eyeliketoeatpoosay]

ANYTHING ~ matt sturniolo.

summary ~ christmas eve and your mom does nothing but fight with you. you decide to leave and get stoned in some random parking lot when matt finds you.

warnings i! ~ ANGSTY ANGST, fluff, established relationship, soft!matt, use of petnames (baby), use of y/n (SUE ME), lower case intended !, mentions/details of suicide and depression. - tell me if ive missed anything !

a/n ~ hey ! haha🤣 so i was reading a fan fic and i started sobbing bc this song came on so i thought wait this is such a good song to write about💯💯‼️ so here i am💋 enjoy

not proof read !

✧༺💌༻∞

christmas eve. the last 24 hours before christmas day. the day of love and commemoration of the birth of Jesus Christ. the day of love, celebration, and hope.

christmas was the one day a year, besides birthdays, that kids looked forward to. the day that children got presents from family members they had never even heard of, it usually just being a box of chocolate and a card with ten dollars shoved in it carelessly. but, the children didn’t care. they saw ten dollars worth of candy and robux. they saw fifty new cavities for the dentists to worry about, toys for decades, and snow to lay in and create artificial angels.

however, christmas hadn’t been the same for you since your father died. the day felt dull, empty, lonely. december 19th 2016. one day after your thirteenth birthday, you walked into your parents newly organized bedroom to see your father’s limp and lifeless body with his feet floating 6 inches off the ground.

the day permanently imprinted in your closed mind. the way his skin faded white and his cheeks puffed up red. the way your father took his own precious life twenty four hours after you turned thirteen.

you were adding setting powder to your under eyes, making sure your makeup was perfect before putting your outfit on.

you, your mother, and sister always stayed indoors all day on christmas eve. playing board games, watching movies, drinking hot cocoa. it was like a tradition at this point. your father introduced it to your family when your mother was pregnant with you, now you were carrying on the legacy.

it wasn’t your favorite time of year, in fact, you dreaded the clocks striking midnight on december 1st. you wished you could stay in november forever. relive that last month of your life when your father stayed alive for every single day. when your father didn’t waste a single breath.

you shook the thought and wiped off the powder, curling your long and black lashes and swiping mascara across them. something about doing your makeup every morning was therapeutic, comforting. it wasn’t that you were ugly or insecure, no, it was just something to make your smile break out.

and something to make your boyfriend convince you that you didn’t need.

the brown fluffy hoodie that you stole from matthew sturniolo, your boyfriend, laid on your pink floral bedding. along with your red and black checkered pajama pants. it was a cozy and warming day. you weren’t going anywhere, so you didn’t bother with actual clothes.

it was now 10:07 am. matt was most definitely not awake, but you decided to message him. just to let him know you loved him. you couldn’t let anyone down ever again. you couldn’t end an interaction without an ‘i love you.’ or the guilt would eat you alive.

‘morning matt’

‘i love u’

‘merry christmas eve !’

‘tell ur mom and dad i miss them’

‘i already told nick and chris’

‘call me when u wake up baby’

‘love u so much.’

‘💌💌💌’

you sling your phone onto your mattress and tie your hair up. half up half down with a ribbon. just what your father knew and loved. what you know and love.

you stand in front of your six foot tall mirror and held your hands at your sides, looking at your reflection and not recognizing a single molecule of your body. from your toe nails to your hair follicles, you were a stranger. a complete stranger.

a deep breath escaped your lips as you switched your bright white led lights off and made your way to the living room where your mother was sat drinking a mug of black coffee, which was probably laced with vodka. her frail hands were shaking against the boiling ceramic piece, clearly already brain-dead.

your younger sister, monica, was slouching on the opposite sofa. her phone fixated in her sweaty hands which caused you to roll your eyes backwards into your brain.

you quickly glance over at the cats empty and stained food bowl, “has cookie been fed today?” you ask to a simple head shake and a mumbling of ‘no.’ you scoff and make your way into the kitchen, grabbing the cat biscuits from the cupboard and pouring a generous amount into her small bowl. you rinse away the three day old water and fill it with ice cold water for your cat.

you stroke your soft hand across her back as she wolfs down her food, storming into the living room. you snatch the mug of black coffee from your mother, holding it up to your nose and immediately being wafted by the smell of vodka.

you nod as tears gloss over your eyes, a pearly vision to them now. “you promised, mom! you fucking promised.” your voice started off as a yell until it breaks and the tears don’t even threaten to escape, they just do.

your mom furrows her brows, taking back the ‘worlds best mom.’ mug and shaking her head. her pupils were dilated and her scoff had the smell of alcohol. “i didn’t promise shit, y/n!”

“that’s bullshit mom and you know it.” you snap, monica shoving her wired headphones in and scurrying off into her bedroom up in the attic. “it was four months you were sober. now you’re off drinking vodka for breakfast. what the fuck is wrong with you?! don’t you care?”

your mom, ashley, laughs in your face like you’re a fool. like you’re just a piece of dirt she wiped off her shoe. “oh, so i’m a bad mom, is that it?”

“because i have tried so hard to suit your needs, y/n, but nothing seems to please you anymore.” she added.

you press your lips together tightly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “yeah, you are a bad mom. what happened, hm? ever since dad died you’ve been gone. it’s like you’re here but your head is in oblivion.”

your mom scowls, her fists in balls. how dare you speak to her like that? who did you think you were? your father?

“don’t speak to me that way, y/n. i am your mother.”

“are you?! are you my mother? because i don’t see you. i never see you anymore! you’re always in the clouds. you’re never here, you’re always in space.” tears flood as you speak your mind, as you bring up the same argument for the one hundredth time, hoping that she will finally listen, finally get help, finally be a mother.

your mom stands closer, her hand coming up to slap your face, ready to leave a red handprint in your pale skin, but you grab her wrist. she clenches her jaw and yanks her arm down. “i wish it was you that died.”

you immediately grab your tote bag and leave the house. making sure to slip your ugg’s on as you exit. you don’t even grab your phone, instead just sit in your car and drive off. no plan, no money, and a million thoughts.

number one priority is getting far away from your home, wether you get to australia or the local gas station, you had to leave. but, just your luck, the car ran out of gas as you pulled into a random parking lot. no clue where you were, you threw your head down onto the steering wheel, the beep continuing on for thirty seconds until you were finally cured of the sound.

the stress you received from your mother never failed to dig your grave further.

i wish it was you that died.

i wish it was you that died.

i wish it was you that died.

the longer you let the words sink into your brain, the faster your heart sank. the words stung. you knew when she’d sober up she’d apologize and cry, like she always did, but you were sick of the empty apologies. you were sick of the games. you just wanted it to be november 2016.

you rummaged through your tote bag, hands gripping onto a week old roll up that you and matt forgot to use. you took a deep breath and picked up the lighter from your glove box, holding the blunt to your cracked lips as you lit it. you wished matt was there to hold it to your lips as he lit it, blowing smoke into your mouth as you made out. you wished you were with him.

an hour had passed. a long ass hour. you were lucky for your watch. about twenty minutes in you realized your phone had been forgotten and left on your pink floral bedsheets. you had no idea if matt had texted you, you hoped he’d still be asleep.

since you were bored out of your mind, you took the nearly finished blunt with you and travelled around the entire parking lot on foot. over and over again until you spotted a bench outside of the target. you took a seat and stamped out the blunt, kicking it under the bench.

your fingers danced around on the arm of the rotted bench. you felt a coldness wash over your body and felt a human presence in front of you. matthew.

his hand pressed against your knee as he knelt down and looked at your face with worry and concern. “hey.. what’s going on, y/n?” he asked, his thumb swiping over your kneecap as a way of comforting you.

you frown, “what are you even talking about, matt? i’m fine.” you cross your arms and look away, but his free hand grabs your chin and turns your face towards him.

“you’re stoned at half eleven in the morning, baby. what happened?” he asked, soothingly, tucking a strand behind your ear. “you only ever smoke with me, and even then you’re cautious.” he sits beside you, waiting patiently for a reply.

“i don’t wanna talk about anything.” you mumble, “i don’t wanna talk about anything.” you repeat, a lot softer, glancing up at matt for a moment.

matthew sighs, rubbing his eyes, “did your mom upset you? i understand the time of year, but you’re gonna have to tell me if i’m gonna help you, baby..” matts lips twist to the side and he rests a hand on your shoulder.

“i don’t wanna talk about anyone.” you sighed, “i want to sleep.” a small chuckle escaped matts lips as you said this, looking at the store behind him.

“well, let me just quickly buy some more whipped cream and marshmallows since chris ate them all, and we can head to my house, ‘kay?” he suggested at you nodded, a small, soft kiss being planted on your temple.

it only took him ten minutes to grab what he needed. he took your hand and walked over to his car when he stopped in his tracks. “how did you get here?”

“drove ‘til i ran out of gas.” you shrugged, pointing at your car isolated across the parking lot. matt took a deep breath and look at you, shaking his head playfully.

“i’ll bring a fuel can down here later and drive it to mine for you.” matt smiled softly and opened the drivers door, climbing in and tossing his bag into the back seat.

this target was almost thirty minutes away from the sturniolo household, so you connected your phone to aux and played one particular song on repeat, ‘anything’ by adrianne lenker. you hummed the lyrics, staring out at the snow trickling down onto the sidewalks, kids building snowmen with their families.

your eyes shut as you stayed slouched in the passenger seat, your arms folded and your head resting on the inside of the car door. you took a deep breath before eventually falling asleep.

it was almost 12pm, afternoon, but you needed this nap. you needed this break. you needed matt.

4pm. you woke up in matts bed with three blankets sloped across your body. drool down your face with hair stuck to your cheeks. you took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes, sitting up slowly as you yawned and stretched your arms.

you blinked multiple times, still trying to come back to reality. your mind was foggy, cloudy, you had no idea what happened or where you were for a good few minutes.

matt suddenly walked into his bedroom and shut the door, jumping when he saw you staring directly at him. he smiled softly and walked over to kiss your forehead. he sat beside you on his bed and handed you your car keys, but you looked up with a blank expression.

“oh! i filled your car with gas, it’s out in the front.” he grinned and you nodded slowly, yawning again. he sighed, tilting his head and looking at you. “hey. what’s going on?” he kissed your cheek, “why did i find you stoned outside of a target thats no where near you?”

you finally start to wake up fully. wiping your drooled-face and shrugged, “don’t know.”

matt shook his head, “c’mon. speak up, baby.”

you sighed deeply and loudly, “i just hate this time of year, matt. my mom was literally drinking vodka at 10am. didn’t wanna fight, but she insisted.” you sob, laying your head in his lap and covering your face with your hands. “why did he have to die.” your words were muffled as you whispered into his lap.

matt felt sorry. he didn’t know what to do or say. all he knew was to be there for you. his fingers ran through your hair and he leaned down to kiss your head, “i know, i’m sorry, baby.” but he didn’t know. his father was alive and in the living room below them.

you choked on your cries, using his sweatpants as a rag. “i just don’t want to do it anymore, matt.” you say, sitting up and wiping your eyes. you look at his face, “i love you so much.”

matt nodded and kissed you tenderly, “i love you more, y/n.” he smiled softly and hugged you, “when we grow old and have grandchildren, we’ll give them a box of chocolate for christmas.” he chuckled, rubbing your back.

“with ten dollars in the christmas card.” you smiled back, holding his hand and pulling away.

matt nodded and spoke, “for now, we get to love eachother and be grateful for 8th grade science.”

@mattslolita @sturnprime

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #angst #fluff #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo

[iheartyouyou]

SWEETHEART | Jeremiah Fisher

Summary: After your parents file for a divorce, you’re forced to move in with your mom’s friend until the divorce is finalized. You wished you could stay with your dad and your friends, but when you meet Jeremiah Fisher, that changes. And now you’re wanting to stay in the Cousins. Too bad things don’t last forever.

Word Count: 2.0k

Part: 7

previous part series masterlist next part

Authors Note: Fun fact I made this part so long that I had to split it in half. Anyways, no spoilers but the finale of tsitp???? 😍 (Wouldn’t let me tag some people :( )

Why’d you have to be such a complete idiot?

Now everything was going to be awkward. Why didn’t you just kiss him? You barely knew the dude though, and didn’t he have a girlfriend.

You groan as another message from your friends’ group chat comes in, talking about plans for the yearly fair that happened every summer.

How do you tell them to stop talking about plans in the same group chat as you as it’s making you jealous and your life over here is going to shit.

Putting your phone on silent, you shove your phone somewhere underneath your pillows as you exit your room, walking to the bathroom.

“…to the dinner— Y/N!” Belly shouts, stopping you in your tracks as you peeked your head into her room.

She sends you a smile, mascara wand in hand. She motions to her flower crown “Susannah got us these, you don’t have to wear it but yours is on the nightstand.”

You don’t miss the way Taylor rolls her eyes, turning away so she can’t see you.

“Thanks.” You smile, grabbing the crown.

“You should get ready with us for dinner! You know who’s coming? Cam.” Belly says, turning back to the mirror so she can finish her mascara.

“Cam…?”

“Sextus.”

“Oh yeah, that guy. You guys are official?”

Belly shrugs, a blush forming on her cheeks. “We’re also going to a party later, it was Taylor’s idea. Maybe you can borrow some of her clothes so you can hookup with someone there.”

“My clothes probably wouldn’t fit her…” Taylor mumbles, putting on the flower crown as she stares at herself in the mirror.

“I have my own clothes anyway, plus I don’t really want to ‘hookup with someone’.”

Belly turns to face you, one of her eyebrows raising in confusion before it falls back down. “Oh right, you’re hooking up with Jere.”

“What?” You quickly ask, checking behind you to make sure Jeremiah (or anybody for that matter) didn’t hear that.

Belly rolls her eyes, “I totally walked in on some date thing last night.”

“We were watching movies because of a bet—“

“Yeah sure.” Belly sarcastically remarks.

The whole conversation seemed to take Taylor’s interest as she finally turned to face you. “We all know his rep, wouldn’t be surprised.” She said to Belly, even though she was staring at you.

You furrow your eyebrows, “What rep?”

“His “hooking up with everybody” rep. Don’t know a single person here he hasn’t hooked up with.” Belly jokes, finishing her mascara as she shoves it into her makeup bag.

Hooking up with everybody? So, what, you were just another name he was trying to check off the list? Is that why he tried to make a move after barely just knowing you?

“Surprised he hasn’t made a move on me.” Taylor says, putting her hands on her hips.

“Taylor.” Belly warns, rolling her eyes. “Look, Jere Bear hasn’t hooked up with anybody since you’ve got here… well I think, anyway you should be fine.”

“Oh…” You mumble, scratching your arm as your grip on the flower crown tightened.

Taylor whips out her phone, sitting on the edge of Belly’s bed as she scrolled through whatever.

“How do you like… I don’t know, know that he hasn’t hooked up with anyone.. since… y’know.” You find yourself hesitantly asking, shifting your weight onto your left foot.

Belly groans dramatically, “He always comes to me and talks about them, with WAY too many details, it’s so gross but he’s always like “what should I do? should I call them back?” She mimics him in the last part.

Jeremiah Fisher was attractive. Okay, well, he’s probably the hottest guy you’ve ever seen and probably the first and last hottie to ever show you attention. And you hated hearing about this newfound information Belly was giving you, and even if you did let Jeremiah Fisher kiss you in that pool, there will be someone better looking and you’ll just be another name crossed off the list.

Belly basically shrieks when her phone goes off, jumping up and down as she looks in between you and Taylor. “Cam’s here!”

-

Can someone please bury me six feet underground?

Dinner was so awkward.

Well, maybe just for you.

But you could feel the awkwardness between you and Jeremiah, he avoided looking and talking to you. It was like you weren’t even there.

And you tried to not look at him, but sometimes you kind of just had to. Like, your eyes drifted there and you wouldn’t even realize it until someone would smack the table from a joke or a loud laugh coming from somewhere around the table.

“So why don’t you eat meat, Cam?” Jeremiah asked, stuffing his food into his mouth.

“Uh, the meat industry is like the number one contribution to global warming.“ He shrugs before continuing, “And I just like animals.”

“Just don’t come for my leather jacket.” Taylor quips, a smile on her face.

So what? She was nice to everybody but you? What the hell did you do to her?

“Pretty sure you mean pleather” Steven jokes, acting offended when Taylor flips him off.

Your eyes feel heavy, you just want to eat, clean up, and go to sleep.

“Y’know, uh, Belly eats meat. So, you let her kiss you with those lips?” Jeremiah says, taking a sip of his water.

“Guys.” Belly starts, already annoyed as her face gets hotter and hotter by the second. “Stop”

Cam chuckles, “I don’t judge people for eating meat, it’s just a personal choice, I don’t care”

Jeremiah continued his questions, “So you don’t mind if her lips touch a dead animal and those dead animal lips touch your lips, right?”

Belly sends a hard kick to Jeremiah, earning a small “ow” as Belly looks over to you for help. You shrugged.

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works, Jeremiah.”

For the first time that night Jeremiah looked at you, eyes wide with amusement. “And how would you know? Have you ever kissed someone, Y/N?”

You feel your cheeks getting hot with embarrassment as you shake your head. “I have.”

He mocks a surprised face, “You just kiss certain people or…?”

“I don’t kiss wannabe playboys—“ You start, ready to get up and slap him across the face if you had to before Cam interjected.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind at all—in fact…” Cam turns, pressing his lips to Belly in a quick peck. Enough for you and Jeremiah to stop talking, as well as the rest of the table.

It was quiet for a few moments as you stared at Belly in shock before Jeremiah and Steven started making gagging noises.

“Alright, alright, Belly’s allowed to kiss.” Laurel defends her, before she points at fork at Cam. “But that’s it.” She then bursts out into laughter as if it was the funniest thing ever.

“Mom, please!” Belly groans, “You’re so not funny, no more wine for you okay?”

“I’m sorry but I just don’t understand why anybody would want to kiss somebody who once fully shat in the bathtub.” Steven grimaces, using his hands to emphasis the point.

“I was like two years old!”

“Two? You were like six!” Steven says, both him and Jeremiah laughing their asses off.

“Shut up, Steven!” Belly shouts.

And after a few more quips back and forth, you zoned out as you played with the remainder of your food. You could hear your moms laughter in the background, nice to know she’s all happy.

The last thing said was Belly announcing they were going to Nicoles party before everybody one by one left the table, cleaning up and putting their dishes away.

You were one of the first.

You managed to escape upstairs after you cleaned up, ready to take a hot shower and sleep until 1 pm before Belly the announcer, once again announced that Cam would be giving you guys a ride as Jeremiah already left.

-

“You mind taking a picture of us?” Taylor asks, already handing you her phone before you could respond. You clench your jaw before nodding, waiting for the two of them to pose before snapping a picture.

Tossing the phone back to Taylor, unbothered to see if she caught it or not your eyes scan the outside of the house. Cup pong was going on near the front door, music blaring from inside of the house and you could see multiple people in there from the windows.

You follow the two girls into the house, Cam following shortly behind you.

As soon as you walked in, someone was sliding down the rail of the stairs. Surprisingly no liquid falling out of the cup they were holding.

“Belly! You came!” You see Nicole come out, her arms held out wide as she engulfs Belly into a hug.

The two shared compliments before Nicole dragged Belly into another room to show everybody else her flower crown.

“I’m gonna go find a drink, what about you Y/N?” Taylor mumbles, already taking off to the living room.

Your eyebrows furrowed, following her nonetheless as a drink did sound good. Taylor was already pouring herself a drink, handing you a empty cup once you were next to her.

She lightly elbows you, motioning you to Jeremiah who was sitting close by. “There’s your boyfriend.”

You look over, seeing how close Jeremiah was to the guy across from him. He was already staring at you, making awkward eye contact before you broke it.

Grabbing the first bottle you saw, you poured it into your cup before taking a large sip of it. And damn was it strong.

By the time you looked back at Jeremiah, he was already making out with the guy.

Taylor scoffs, “Guess Belly was wrong, you could totally find a way hotter guy here. C’mon.” She takes you by the arm, dragging you into another room as she looked for a “hotter guy”

“What about that guy?” She asks, motioning to a guy who was chugging a drink.

“Uh.. no.” You shake your head, confused as to why all of the sudden Taylor was being nice to you. It was if the second Belly ditched her, you were the second best option.

“Yeah, probably not. But I mean any guy here is better than Jeremy—“ She starts, pulling your arm to pull you into another room before you stop her. “Why are you being so nice?”

“What?” She makes a sour face at you, letting you go.

“You were acting like a total bitch earlier and now you’re acting like we’re besties.” You say straight up.

She rolls her eyes, “Are you that sensitive? I’m just trying to help you find someone! Unless you wanna go hookup with Jeremiah over there.”

“Why is it always about Jeremiah?”

“Because he obviously has the hots for you, well had them because now he clearly wants nothing to do with you.” She hissed.

Oh how bad you wanted to smack this bitch so hard right across the face her flower crown would fly off.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Really? Because he wouldn’t stop mentioning you earlier, saying he would be the one to give you a ride here yet you third wheeled with me.”

You gritted your teeth, “Why do you even care? Why are you all up in my business? This has nothing to do with you.”

“Because Belly also talks about you ALL the time! Maybe if you didn’t do whatever you did and messed things up, you would be hanging out with Jeremy and leaving me and Belly alone. I’m her best friend, not you. You hardly know her, actually, you hardly know anybody in this goddamn place so why don’t you go back to wherever you came from and make everybody’s lives easier?” She stormed off before you could even answer, stomping upstairs and leaving you with your thoughts.

You looked around, seeing as a few people were staring your way. You moved around bodies as you made your way outside, itting on one of the chairs nearby.

You hate this place. Just a few more days, then you can tell Susannah you want to go home, she’ll fly you home, you can stay with your dad and never see any of these people ever again.

Taylor was just a bitch who was jealous that her friend had other friends who weren’t her.

Fuck your life.

Taglist: @mindflay3r @lexi-2004 @buckys2thicc @agoodmansaid @jeremiahfisherslover @yourfavoritefangirl @leslienjazzy @natsgaygf @justkayleighhere @puptails @simp4jackharlow @yobabygirlally @whenmypartysover @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @medusaslilsister @maexxc @siriuslysmoking @nowimyurdaisy @totallynotkaibiased @eevee0722 @theyallhaveluv4lyricb @wh0reforstefansalvatore @pariahsparadise @alice3612 @pancakelover837373 @angelbabyyy99 @lillygwenstacy @khloe-193 @buckysh0e @nctma15 @lovelygloomm @ashlenxx @yeosxxx

#the summer i turned pretty #tsitp x you #tsitp x reader #jeremiah fisher fluff #jeremiah fisher imagine #jeremiah fisher x you #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher fanfic #tsitp imagine #belly conklin #conrad fisher #jeremiah fisher

[peachdoxie]

Danny sped towards Sam’s room, barely able to hold onto his ghost form, let alone his intangibility – luckily, Sam had opened her window for him. Just past the threshold, he transformed back in midair and crashed to the floor. Danny tumbled head-over-heels and came to rest at the foot of Sam’s bed, upside down.

“Danny!” Sam and Tucker both shouted, rushing to his side. Danny just covered his face and groaned.

“Are you alright?” said Sam.

“You look terrible!” Tucker added.

And he did look terrible. Danny’s clothes were fine, and he was uninjured, but under his hands were deep undereye bags and wan skin more befitting his ghost half than his human half. He clearly hadn’t slept in far too long. If Tucker and Sam didn’t know better, they would have thought him a corpse, for real.

They looked at their friend with concern. “What happened, dude?” asked Tucker.

 “Vlad happened,” Danny said, voice muffled. He groaned again when Sam picked up his legs and moved them to the floor, but then he just curled up and lay there for a moment, dropping his hands from his face. Sam and Tucker waited for him to continue.

“I was chasing an ectopus through the park when I flew straight into one of Skulker’s traps,” Danny recalled. “He’s working for Vlad again, apparently. There was the usual gloating and mocking, and then he took me to Vlad’s mansion on the edge of town.”

Tucker and Sam exchanged a worried look: Danny was staring into space with a haunted look in his eyes.

He went on. “There was the usual Vlad monologuing, ‘I hate your father,’ ‘why won’t your mother love me?’, y’know the stuff, and then he put me in some new contraption that made me really tired, like even more than I already was being on three, uh, no, four days of no sleep. Only he didn’t tie me up right or something because I managed to get out when his back was turned and handcuff him to a pipe when he wasn’t looking, even though I could barely keep myself upright, I was so tired. And as I was trying to figure out what to do next, Vlad said ‘I loathe you, Daniel.’ And I said…I said….”

Danny trailed off, then groaned and covered his face again.

“You said….” Sam prompted, dread building in her body.

“What did you say, man?” Tucker asked anxiously.

“I said…” started Danny, face still hidden. “I was so tired, I said, ‘Love you too,’” – he peeked at them with a horrified expression and whispered – “‘Dad.’”

#danny phantom #phandom phight club 2023 #round 2 #anecdotes by peachdoxie #the prompt is the stupidest thing danny's done while sleep deprived

[hoodharlow]

The Bae Area (fic)

AN: I got a few asks from that concept about Jack and Miriam getting caught so I brought back the fic. The ending is also something one of @killatravtramp anons sent in and V let me use the concept <3

Requested? My anons <3

Warnings: smut, Shawn Mendes being messy. Also this does not reflect how I view Shawn. He's one of my fave Candadians even after the canola oil shit show.

Word Count:

“Water break.” Jack pulled away.

“Seriously?” Miriam arched an eyebrow at him.

“Bro, I just gave you two rounds, give me a fucking second.” He sat up and reached for his Fiji water, dramatically drinking half of the bottle. 

Not only was it the first time Miriam had the house to herself since she officially started to date Jack but he had a day off in between shows so she was going to take full advantage of that to get railed. Her parents went out for date night and were going to stay at the Beverly Hills Hotel for the night then going back home after breakfast. Joseph and Katalina were in Aspen for a few more days to ski.

Jack and Miriam hadn't had sex since her last night in Louisville before she flew to Aspen to spend Christmas with her family. They were supposed to have sex on New Years, but Miriam got too tipsy and Jack took care of her when they got back from the club. After that Miriam flew to LA for an audition. Jack flew back a few days later but focused on getting some studio time for his album and preparing for his California tour. 

Miriam was obviously joining him for his mini tour, except for the Pomona and SLO shows because both Cal Poly Pomona and Cal Poly SLO rejected. They were the only two universities that rejected her. (She got into all the Ivy Leagues, the UCs, NYU, USC and Stanford.) Miriam vowed to never set foot in those two cities after. They were lucky that Jack had a day off 

He hovered over Miriam, smirking, “where were we?”

Miriam giggled and wrapped her arms around him. Jack groaned as he slid back into her. It didn’t take long for them to find a pace. Her breath hitched at how good it felt. Jack must have noticed, and continued thrusting in that spot. The familiar feeling came over her once more. Miriam was about to come, and he knew it. His thrusts got more precise, hitting where she needed him the most. She was about to come undone when her bedroom door opened.

“Miriam–oh!” Her mom shut the door abruptly.

“Que paso?” Her dad asked her mom.

“Nada.” Isabela mumbled.

“El gringo está adentro verdad?” He pounded on the door. “Miriam, what did we agree on? When el gringuito is here you leave the door open. Me vale verga if me and your mom are not home. The door remains open. Understood?”

“Yes papi.” Miriam said as she threw Jack his clothes.

“Harlow, you have five minutes to leave my house.”

Jack cleared his throat, stifling his laugh. “Yes, sir.”

Miriam put on some flannel pajamas and pulled her hair into a bun. She caught herself in her vanity mirror and saw she was missing a hoop earring. 

“I saw this fall off your ear when we were fucking doggy style.” Jack said, handing her her missing up.

“Thanks.” she said shyly. She took off the other one and put them on her everyday jewelry tray in her vanity.

“I’mma go.” he said.

"I'll walk you out." She put on her ankle length Ugg boots. 

She opened her bedroom door and Daisy jumped on Jack. The almost two year old puppy got on her hind legs and nuzzled her face against Jack's hand so he could pet her. He gave her a few head scratches and then followed Miriam downstairs. 

They went to the living room where her parents were watching the 10pm novela on telemundo.. 

"Jack's leaving." Miriam said to them. 

"Aw so soon?" Mateo said, pretending to be upset. 

"I have an early morning at the studio before my show." Jack explained. 

"Okay mi'jo. Drive safe." Isabela said.

"Thank you. Have a good night." He said following Miriam out to the driveway. 

Somehow they ended up making out again. Jack had Miriam pressed against his car. One hand on her hip and the other was inside her shirt, cupping her breast. Miriam grinded herself on him and only pulled away to kiss down his jaw. Jack’s grip on her waist tightened when she got to his sweet spot. She licked and lightly nipped it. 

"Fuck, Miriam," he grunted. "I really gotta go." 

"Do you have to?" Miriam pouted.

"If I want to live, yes. I'll see you tomorrow?" He said climbing in the car.

“No,” she shook her head. “But I’ll see you in San Diego. Claudia and Cal are back from Mexico and are staying there for a bit.”

“I thought they were in London.” 

“They spent Christmas in London then flew out to Mexico for New Years because her tio, who’s basically her cousin, got married.” she explained.

“Who else is there? So I can save some tickets for them.”

“I think just them, her dad, and her other brother and his family. Yeah Danny, Mede and baby Sebas stayed with her mom for a few more days.” 

“The baby isn’t here?” he asked. 

“No.” 

“Good because I don’t want to get bitten again.”

“That’s on you, Jack. Why would you take goldfish from a baby?”

***

Jack spotted the familiar camera crew from when he filmed his own shoe shopping video as his Uber pulled up to the address of the sneaker store Miriam sent him. She was filming a shoe shopping video at her go-to store in Oakland. Last night, after his show in SLO, he and his crew drove up to San Francisco. They arrived around three in the morning. Jack slept for a few hours then had a team meeting to go over his schedule for the next few weeks. After he finished his shows, he was going to stay at least two weeks in San Francisco and work on his album. 

He grabbed his duffle bag and thanked the driver. He rated them five stars as he made his way over to Isabela. 

“Hi mijo.” she said, giving him a side hug.

“Hi,” he smiled.

He followed her to where Miriam was. She was sitting in front of a makeup chair getting her makeup done. She waved at him as he walked over to sit in one of the chairs next to Miriam's mom. He pulled out his phone and checked in with Chris and Neelam. He had a little free time before heading into a studio in San Francisco where he was recording a few songs he had written. 

“Jack?” Joe, the host of the segment said. 

“Oh hey, man how are you?” Jack smiled, extending his hand to shake his.

The two men caught up for a bit until a producer came over to get Joe. Jack sat back in the chair and watched Miriam and Joe. She seemed more relaxed than the night before when she was telling him that she was nervous because she’s not a sneakerhead, she just buys a lot of shoes that she thinks are cute. But she was doing good, in his biased opinion. She was articulate and explained her answers thoroughly without sounding pretentious which was something she was nervous about. She was probably also more comfortable because the store they were at is an actual store she shopped at and she knew the staff. The interview ended and it was time for her to shop. 

Miriam quickly hugged the clerk and they made brief small talk since it’s been a few months since she shopped at the store. Jack snorted as he watched her struggle to reach a pair of shoes that were on the top shelf. 

“I can fucking hear you laughing,” she frowned. “Make yourself useful and get those ‘fog grey’ ones.” 

“Damn not even a please.” he mumbled as he sauntered over to her. 

Everytime she needed a pair of shoes from the top shelf he looked at the camera like he was Jim in The Office before reaching for them. Twelve pairs of shoes later, and a lot of convincing on his part that she should get a pair of 990s because they were her favorite shade of green, they made their way to the cash register. 

“Okay that will be $2,326.” the cashier said.

“Oh don’t forget the usual.” Miriam told her as she pulled out her card. 

“Okay your total is now $1,340,546.87.” she said. 

Miriam nodded and swiped her card without a second thought. Jack, trying to be funny, looked over her shoulder as she typed her PIN number. She noticed right away and hunched over the card reader. The cashier handed her the receipt and her bags. Miriam thanked her and took the bags. Jack took the bags and helped her carry them to her car while she finished up her video. 

“Okay, I’m heading back to LA.” Isabela said when they were in the parking lot. 

“Is that why you rode with Saul when I could have driven us both?” Miriam asked her, gesturing to her parents’ designated bodyguard that they used when they traveled. Beto was on vacation until late January. 

“No, mi’ja, you’re a shitty driver and I don’t want to die.” her mom deadpanned. 

Now it was obvious to Jack where Miriam got her sarcasm. 

“I’m kidding–for the most part– I have meetings tomorrow morning with my team and then Kata is doing a shoot and she wants me there.” she explained to Miriam.

“Oh okay,” she nodded.

“Are you still going to see Tere?” Isabela asked, referring to Miriam’s grandma on her dad’s side.

“Yeah, I’m gonna hangout with her before Jack’s show tomorrow.” 

“Ok, se cuidan.” She bid them goodbye and walked over to the SUV where her bodyguard was waiting for her. 

Miriam waited for her mom to drive off the parking lot before unlocking her G-Wagon. Jack got in front of her and opened the door for her. Then he went around and climbed in the car for her. 

“What’s the 'usual'?” Jack finally asked Miriam when she drove out of the parking lot.

“Oh, I just buy out all, like, the clothes and have them donate it to women and homeless shelters.” she shrugged. “I’ve been doing it since I was at Berkeley. I usually do it at the start of each semester.” 

“That’s fucking amazing. I didn't know you were that giving." He teased her.

She scoffed. "You know damn well I'm fucking giving, or did you forget the blowjob I gave you the morning you left for San Luis Obispo."

"If I remember correctly you begged me to fuck your mouth and finish on your face." He smirked.

"Semantics." She waved him off. 

Forty minutes later, Miriam pulled into a neighborhood. Jack couldn’t put his finger on it, but the neighborhood looked very familiar. He looked over to the park across from the row of colorful houses. There were small clusters of people in ponchos and cameras taking pictures of the houses.

“The rain really doesn’t stop these people.” Miriam sighed as she stopped in front of a garage. She pressed a button on the garage opener.

“What do you mean?” he asked, hoping she’d explain because he was still confused.

“These are the houses shown in Full House.” she said as she drove into the garage. “There’s usually more people in the spring and summer.”

Jack only nodded. He knew that ‘Full House’ was a show very popular in the 90s but he has no recollection of ever watching it growing up. He assumed it must have been an iconic show since people were outside in the rain taking pictures. 

He followed Miriam out of the car and up the stairs that led to the kitchen. He was greeted by Daisy as Miriam put in the alarm. The two year old puppy nearly tackled him to the ground, but he caught her paws before they got to him. He gave her a few head scratches and kissed her head before he went to the sink and washed his hands then went up to Miriam.

“That fact that you kissed my dog before me is quite upsetting.” she pouted, crossing her arms.

Jack pulled her arms apart and placed them on his shoulders. He slightly bent down and picked her up by the back of her thighs, setting her down on the counter. He leaned down and claimed her lips. 

“How are you this hard already?” she giggled, glancing down to the very prominent tent in his sweats. 

“I’ve been hard since I saw you in your little shirt back at the store.” he murmured, sliding his hand in her crop top. He tugged on her nipples. “These were callin my name, begging me to touch them, to mark them up.”

Miriam's dog huffed dramatically and plopped in front of them. 

“I can’t do this with Daisy in the room.” Miriam mumbled. 

She hopped off the counter and took his hand leading down the hall to the stairs. They entered the room at the end of the hall. Miriam quickly kicked off her shoes and started taking off her clothes. Jack quickly did the same, staying in his boxers. He picked up Miriam, placing her on his shoulder, and tossed her on the bed. He climbed in bed with her and resumed the makeout session they were having in the kitchen. 

Jack slid his hands up to her breasts. His thumbs delicately ran over her pert nipples as she melted into his hands. Without pulling away from their kiss, Jack helped her out of her panties and tossed them to the growing pile of clothes. One of his hands made its way back to her hips and lazily ran his finger tips around her core, sending her goosebumps all over. With the other, he balanced himself so he wouldn’t squish her.

Miriam gasped feeling his ring and middle finger inside of her. Jack pressed his thumb to her clit and sped up his fingers. She whined and arched her back. She moaned as his fingers fucked into her at a deliciously slow pace. As if her hips had a mind of their own, they followed Jack’s fingers. 

“Jack–”

“I got you.” He pressed his thumb against her clit and increased his pace.

“Sh–Jack.” She climaxed.

Jack’s bright blue eyes were on her darkened brown as he slowly pulled his fingers out of her. He brought his fingers to his mouth, but Miriam circled her hand around his wrist. Without breaking eye contact, she slipped his fingers in her mouth. She sucked them, slowly bobbing her mouth. She ran her tongue along the length of them and sucked his fingertips. 

"You're unreal." He said in adoration. 

He pushed himself up, hovering over her. But Miriam wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him down so that she got his full weight on her. They kissed once more and lazily made out. Her hands wandered down his back until they reached the waistband of his boxer-briefs. 

"Please fuck me, Jack." She whispered. 

He nodded and stood on his knees. He pushed down his boxer-briefs to his knees and got on top of her once more. He bent his head down and kissed her.

A faint buzzing sound came from the pile of clothes. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Jack cursed. He slipped on his boxers and rummaged through the pile of clothes, pulling out his phone. He answered gruffly, “What?” He listened to whoever was on the other side, nodding along. “Let me ask her.” he turned to Miriam. “What’s your address?”

“Just say the houses from Full House. It should show up when you type it on the search engine.” she said, getting up from the bed. She went into her closet and came out dressed in baggy light grey sweatpants with ‘UC BERKELEY’ sewn in dark blue and a matching hoodie with the same logo as her sweatpants sewn across her chest. 

“Do you know when you’ll be done?” Miriam asked him as he finished getting dressed.

“Not until the evening.” Jack sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? This is your job.” she said, leading him downstairs. “I’ll have dinner ready when you get back.” 

“You cook?” he asked her in a teasing tone.

“Yes, and I’ll even make a dessert.”

“I don’t need dessert when you’re here.” he said in a flirty tone. 

“I can’t stand you sometimes.” she rolled her eyes at him. 

“You know you love me.” Jack smirked.

“Yeah, but I’m starting to question why.” she deadpanned.

Jack’s phone buzzed. It was a text message from Neelam, wondering which house he was at. He responded that he’ll walk out in a minute. 

“My ride’s here.” he said, sliding his phone in his pocket. “I’ll see you later. If anything changes, I’ll text you. Love you.”

“Love you.” she said, standing on her tippy toes to give him a peck. 

Jack walked out through the front door and jogged down the steps, tugging on his hoodie. Thankfully the rain picked up, and there weren’t any tourists in sight. The passenger van flashed the headlights and Jack went towards it. His bodyguard stepped out with an umbrella and opened the backdoor for him to go inside. He thanked his bodyguard and slipped off his hoodie since it got soaked in the two minutes he was outside.

“Didn’t know you were into crop tops.” Urban nodded his head at Jack’s nearly bare torso. 

Jack glanced down and saw that he was wearing Miriam’s black long sleeve instead of his. “Fuck, I must’ve taken Miriam’s shirt when I was getting dressed.” he said, also taking it off and grabbing another t-shirt and hoodie. 

“I think it looks better on her. She has the–”

“Don’t finish that sentence if you’re gonna talk about Miriam’s body.” Jack warned him. 

Urban lifted his hands in surrender,“I was gonna say personality.”

Jack had a pretty productive studio session even if he only managed to record one song. It was the song he planned on doing with Lil Wayne. Unfortunately, Weezy wasn’t able to travel to San  Francisco because he was doing other work, but he managed to do a writing session with Jack. Together they wrote his verse and he even recorded and sent over his verse to Jack’s producer so they could mix it into what Jack had recorded. He was now in the back of the passenger van on his way back to Miriam’s house. 

On his lunch break he got nosy and googled the house she lived in. He found several articles about her parents buying it because it was basically a landmark. Jack nearly choked on his turkey ciabatta sandwich when he read an article that her parents bought the house back in early 2016 for almost $8 million dollars. He knew the cost of living in San Francisco was expensive but he didn’t know it was that expensive. Hell, his mansion back in Louisville barely cost a quarter of that and it was at least three times bigger than her house. 

He was playing a super intense game of Uno on his phone with Urban, Clay, Druski and some other members of PG. Jack clicked on a blue skip turn card skipping Urban. 

"Are you for real?" Urban asked from across the SUV. 

"Don't hate the playa." Jack smirked. 

"You cheated, man." His best friend frowned.

"How the fuck do you cheat at Uno?" He frowned.

"I don't know, you tell me." Urban eyed him suspiciously. 

They ended their game shortly. Jack got a notification that Miriam posted and went to check it out. She was sitting on a stool in a sage green workout set and the shoes she bought earlier in the day. Jack commented on it. He scrolled through her post because her friends sometimes made funny comments, but he stumbled on a comment made by Shawn Mendes aka her old hook up from a few years ago. He rolled his eyes and exited Instagram. It shouldn't bother him, but it did. Shawn knew he and Miriam were together so it's not like he was shooting his shot unknowingly. 

"We're back at Miriam’s place." Chris told Jack. 

"Thanks." Jack nodded. He nodded his head at his baby brother. "You coming?" 

"Nah," Clay shook his head. "Knowing y'all, you're probably gonna go at it all night because you haven't seen each other in twenty-four hours." 

"Alright, see y'all tomorrow." Jack waved. 

"We're picking you up at noon." Neelam said. 

"Oh, Miriam’s driving us. Her grandma lives in San Jose so she's stopping by to see her…anyways bye." He nodded. 

Jack jogged up the steps and knocked on her door. Seconds later Daisy popped her head through the blinds and pawed at the window when she saw him. Miriam opened the door dressed in a grey-blue long sleeve knit maxi dress that had a slit down her left thigh. 

"Hey," she greeted him with a kiss. "The pastitsio needs like twenty minutes." 

"Damn, you really cooked for me." He chuckled as he followed Miriam to the kitchen. 

"Yeah, but I didn't make dessert for us." She said as she set the table. Jack was about to reach for the plates to help her out, Miriam smacked his hand away. "I got it." 

She finished setting the table and checked on the pastitsio. She saw that it was pretty much done so she changed settings of the oven to broil, removing the aluminum foil before closing it. She hopped on the counter and Jack wrapped his arms around her waist, laying his head on her lap. 

"How was the studio?" She asked, twirling one of his curls.

"Good, we finished the song with Lil Wayne and after the shows we'll work on  Clay's song?" He told her.  

"He raps too?"

"No, he's producing one. A few weeks ago he showed me a beat he was working on.  I liked it and we're gonna develop it." He explained.

"Oh I love that." She smiled.  

"How many tickets do you need me to reserve for you?" Jack asked, sitting up against the chair.  

"Three in case my abuela's partner can come. I'm pretty sure it'll be us two, but she mentioned it to Dominic." 

"You think your grandma will like me?" He asked nervously. 

"She will. My dad was the one you needed to get on his good side." Miriam reassured him. She stretched out her legs more, opening a bit to be more comfortable. 

"I'm on his good side?" Jack arched an eyebrow at her. 

"When you're not defiling his youngest child, you are."  

"But you like it when I defile you." He got up from his seat and stood in between her legs. He pushed her legs open, revealing her thong soaked through. He smirked and ran his knuckles over her thong, earning a soft plea from Miriam. He met her gaze. "You're basically begging me to defile you right now."

•••

Jan. 20

@'jackharlow: Life under the scope

@'mdm: not your hand blending in with the clouds 😭

-> @'jackxmiriam: not you gagging him

@'urbanwyatt: big daddy

@'exhookup: I'm in SF too let's link up 🤤

-> @'jackfan: girl we all saw the video of you trying to get his attention at his shoe in Sacramento, it was desperate even for you lol 💀🤡

@'claybornharlow: they're not ready for this new era

@'g_eazy: 🔥

View all 22896 comments

•••

Jack via Instagram Stories (Jan. 20)

•••

Jan. 22

@'mdm: SF❣

@'shawnmendes: ❣

@'russ: so how serious are you and your man

@'saintclauds: it's always the Leos and the dudes that are less that 5'6 trying to be messy 🙄 it's never gonna be you

@'alinahunter: no bc it was getting weird and they knows she has a man

@'miriamstan: oop not Shawn and Russ commenting and deleting 👀

-> @'mdmfan: the real oop is Jack not liking Or commenting 👀 esp since she's wearing his jacket in the last pic

View all 13,468 comments

•••

It had been a few days since Jack's mini tour ended. Jack was in the studio for most days while Miriam volunteered at the theater she used to volunteer when she was in college. They were doing a production of the Crucible, one of her favorite plays from high school. Since they both have been busy, they haven’t spent any real time together. But today in the evening they found some time and went out to have dinner with Miriam’s grandma at her partner’s restaurant. It had become their Friday night thing.

“I can’t believe I was Gilmore Girls’ed.” Jack said as they waited for their valet. 

“What do you mean?”Miriam asked.

“You know how Lorelai and Rory have to have dinner every Friday night with Emily and Richard. That’s kinda what we’ve been doing except at a high end restaurant.” He shrugged.

“Oh…wait, that's how I spent 80% of my Fridays when I was at Berkeley.” she said in realization.

“Miriam?” some called behind them.

She looked over and smiled. “Brian, hi. You’re a long way from Toronto.” She said, pulling him to a hug. She pulled away and gestured to Jack. “This is my boyfriend, Jack.”

“Hey,” they both greeted each other. Brian told him how he was at his show in LA and was a fan of his music. 

Jack looked between them and asked. “How do you know each other?” 

“He’s friends with–”

“Yo, Brian where’d you go?” Someone yelled.

It was none other than Shawn Mendes. Miriam’s old hookup buddy. As he approached them, Miriam took a step closer to Jack. 

“Oh, hey.” He greeted them. 

Shawn reached to shake Jack’s hand, but Jack just nodded. Jack pulled out his phone and called his mom. 

“I gotta take this.” He said, motioning to his phone. 

“I’ll go with–”

Jack cut her off, shaking his head. “Catch up with your friends.” He said cooly, before he walked over to Miriam’s car and took the keys from the valet. He pulled out a hundred dollar bill and tipped them.

Miriam got in the car less than five minutes later. She was annoyed and had told Shawn off for leaving comments on her posts. Especially since he knew she was dating Jack. Shawn tried defending himself by saying he was just playing but she put him in his place and said it was disrespectful and weird. 

Jack was still on the phone. While Miriam drove them back to her place, he was talking over his schedule and how he was going to be in Atlanta next week to film something. Then how he was going back to LA for Superbowl weekend to promote his upcoming single. He hung up just as Miriam pulled into the garage. He got out of the car without another word. Miriam walked straight to her room and took off her coat and heels. She was removing her makeup, still in her tight black backless turtleneck dress when Jack came in. He didn’t acknowledge her or try to get all flirty with her which was Miriam’s sign that he was upset. 

“You okay? You’ve been acting off since we ran into Shawn and Brian.” she said. 

“Oh you expect me to be happy to see your ex fuck buddy after he’s been leaving unwarranted comments on your posts?” he asked sarcastically. “Should I have greeted him with open arms? ‘Thank you for being a fucking creep and commenting heart eyes on my girl’s posts. And thanks for starting dating rumors.’” 

“Oh my god.” Miriam rolled her eyes. “You’re being so extra. Your exes do it all the time and you don’t hear me having a bitch fest about it.”

“There’s a difference. My exes aren’t famous nor do they have millions of fans looking for scraps to make some ship they’ve wanted for years.” He frowned. 

Miriam sighed and counted off from ten in her head to calm down. Jack was right and she shouldn’t have invalidated his feelings like that. She tiptoed to him and wrapped her arms around him. Jack instinctively placed his hands on her hips. 

“You’re right and I’m sorry for saying you’re overreacting.” she kissed his lips. 

“Damn, you must be sorry if you think I’m right.” he joked. 

“If it makes you feel better, when you were on the phone I pulled him aside and told him to fuck off.” Miriam mumbled against his lips. He hummed in response. “How about I make it up to you?”

“Get naked.” he groaned as she palmed him through his sweats. 

Miriam cursed as she struggled with the buttons on the back of her neck. She caught Jack through the mirror. He was already in bed in only his boxer-briefs. She sighed and finally got the buttons undone. She pushed off her dress and adjusted her thong. She turned around, ready to get in bed when she saw Jack was stroking himself.

“Hey, I was supposed to make it up to you.” she pouted. 

“Yeah, but I changed my mind.” He shrugged. 

“So am I just supposed to watch you jack off?” 

“Precisely.” He nodded. 

“Are you still mad about the shawn thing?” 

“A little.” He smirked. 

Jack took his hand off his cock and rolled to his side to the nightstand where Miriam had all her toys. He pulled out a rabbit vibrator then put it back in the drawer. He pulled out a clear dildo with heart shaped confetti inside and closed the drawer. 

“I’m not too mad, so you can have this inside of you, don’t get smart with me.” 

“Me smart?” she tilted her head. 

“Yes, you, smartass.” 

Miriam giggled. She leaned against the footboard of her bed and opened her legs. Jack knelt in front of her legs and moved her thong to the side. They held eye contact as he slowly slid her dildo on her. Jack leaned in and kissed her. Soon their kiss got heated and Miriam got handsy. 

“Hands to yourself or I won’t make you come.” Jack mumbled against her lips. 

“You’re no fun.” 

Jack ignored her and settled back on the bed. He fully removed his boxer-briefs and tossed them haphazardly. He took his cock back in his hand and took in Miriam. Ignoring her deep pout and her arms crossed, she still looked unreal. Her nipples were pert and erect begging him to run his tongue over them and for him to cover them with his release. He ran his thumb over his tip then squeezed it as some of his pre-cum leaked onto his hand for some sort of lube. 

“I’m so close, Miriam.” he grunted, speeding up his hand. 

“Good for you.” she rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t act like you’re not turned on. That dildo fuckin’ slipped outta you with how wet you are.” he nodded over to the dildo now halfway out of her core. 

“Who said you’re the one who made me wet?” She challenged him. 

Jack reached forward and pushed the toy back in her.

“Fuck, Jack!” she whined. 

“That’s what I thought.” He smirked. 

He pulled the toy in and out of her at the pace he was stroking himself. She tugged on her nipples and rubbed her clit, egging him on. Within minutes, he could tell Miriam was close.

“Let me come on your tits.” Jack groaned. 

“Please do.” She nodded eagerly, sitting up straight. 

Jack got off the bed and was lined up with her face. It didn’t take long for him to come. He cursed out Miriam’s name as his release landed on her neck and chest. He laid next to her panting. 

“You feel better?” she asked him softly, twirling his curls. 

“Yeah, sorry I got all ‘you can only fuck myself’ on you.” he panted. 

“I kinda liked it.” she smiled. 

“Yeah?”

“But don’t get too cocky.” 

He reached for the dildo. “Does this stick to your headboard?”

“Yeah, why?” she asked him, confused. It was a random question for him to ask her. 

He rubbed the toy against her entrance as he sucked on her neck. “Wanna fuck you while you choke on it.”

Taglist: @heavyhitterheaux @cherry4everrr ​ @carma-fanficaddict ​ @youngharleezyxo @youngharleezy ​ @babyharleezy ​ @that-90s-girllll ​ @alinaharlow @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @a-moment-captured @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract @whywontyoulovemecami @camificrecs

#jack and miriam #jack harlow #jack harlow smut

[zhounauts]

THE PALACE ALMANAC :: FEATURE 2 :: KNIGHT! PARK JONGSEONG warnings: cursing, embarrassment:: pairing: knightcommander!jay x aristocrat!reader

THE HALLWAY IS COMPLETELY DARK as you peek from behind a wall. you shuffle as quietly as you can in the large shoes and baggy clothing you had taken from some passing maids in the palace.

it’s a contrast to how you were dressed just half and hour ago, a glittering and extravagant ball gown for the ball the emperor had thrown to commemorate the end of the war against the monsters and demons that plagued the lands around the kingdom. you had been going to balls your whole life, yet that still didn’t change the fact they were incredibly boring and by the third hour of the ball you were ready to dip.

and that was exactly what you did. after making sure your father was busy and wouldn’t go searching for you, you quickly made your move, sneaking away through the back door of the ball room, tracking down some maids, and now exiting through the courtyard.

the night air is cold, and the three moons of the empire are distant and not incredibly bright. despite this, the excitement coursing through your veins of experiencing a commoner festival keeps you warm enough, and you scale the wall. you reach into the cloaks pocket, grabbing onto a rope that you had bribed the maids for after tossing them your pair of 18 carat gold, diamond encrusted earrings to them. safe to say, that without a word they had dashed away and got you everything you asked for without questioning you and then skipped away with their new wealth.

what you don’t expect however, is as you throw the rope over the courtyard wall, you hear footsteps behind you and then it goes quiet behind you. what the fuck— and then there’s something at your neck. something cold. something sharp.

“don’t move,” a man says, “or i’ll slice your neck”

you freeze in surprise, too shocked to move or say anything. “what are you doing on palace grounds? you aren’t supposed to be here are you?”

“no i—“

“who are you?” he hisses.

“i’m-“

“why are you here?”

“will you let me talk!?” you exclaim annoyed.

“i think your forgetting who has the weapon,” he deadpans.

“oh.” you mutter, “well that’s true…”

“take your hood off,” he commands.

“put your sword down,”

“take your hood off,” he demands again, not relenting. you bite the inside of your cheek. if it this man was a guard, he would definitely report it to your father, you’d be punished, and then you wouldn’t be able to set foot out of the estate for months. so you didn’t let it happen.

“i can’t!”

“what?” the man asks in disbelief.

“i’m….insecure!?” you spit out.

“….what?” the man asks again, “i don’t want to repeat myself, i am the one with the upper hand here,”

“no please i’ll uhm— surrender!”

“take your hood off,” he demands once again.

“i can’t!”

“i don’t care if you’re insecure!?” he asks confused.

“but you sound so—“ you start, your desperate, embarrassed and on the verge of stabbing your self, yet you still blurt out possibly the most stupid thing known to existence. “so cool! and uhm handsome! i feel insecure, i can’t take the hood off,”

now there’s pure silence behind you, the man seemingly so flabbergasted that he can’t even make any noise. and then before you know it the hood is ripped off and your yanked back by the man, you shut your eyes and try to hide your face. unfortunately, the man’s seen you and he exclaims in shock.

“lady jeong!?”

“nope! not me!” you exclaim, “just a maid!”

“i think your family crest is a dead giveaway, my lady,”

“please don’t tell my dad! do not tell duke jeong, please,” you look at the man, trying to forget your embarrassment earlier. the man is in fact actually very handsome, a little bit too fine for a palace guard but you can’t focus on that now. you watch as he sighs.

“my lady, i won’t tell your father,” he starts, “we should head back to the banquet,”

“i don’t have my dress,” you mutter,

“what?”

“my dress is gone,”

“how!?” he exclaims.

“I threw it in a closet okay!? I wanted out!”

“Now why would you—” the man sighs again, “my lady, you are not in any state to head back into the ball like this,”

“well—” you stop, not knowing what to say, only sheepishly looking down at the ground. you were known as the dignified, mature daughter of duke jeong, and now here you were acting like an actual dingus in front of this man.

“maybe. . .” the man stop, “i could—” he stops again.

“what?” you ask.

“if the town square is where you want to go. . .i can take you,” he says, “that might not be a good idea actually never—”

“oh. my. god. YES!” you exclaim, grabbing onto the mans arms. they’re strong and steady and you see the man flinch in surprise. “please! sir! whoever you are!”

“you don’t even know who i am!?” he asks offended.

“Uhm. . .no? sorry are you one of the guards at the estate? i spend too much time studying, sorry. . .” you apologize.

“i’m sir jay, the kingdom’s night commander,”

“oh,” you gape. you stare at the dude, jay in disbelief before snapping your fingers, “right! i knew that!”

“my lady. . .it’s okay,” he answers.

“no. no it is not. i was just attending the ball in your honor and didn’t even recognize you.” you murmur embarrassed, “man my dad would actually be disappointed in me for this,”. jay lets out a laugh, it’s light and unique, and from his chest.

“well, my lady, would you like to head out or not?” your eyes sparkle in excitement.

“yes, yes absolutely! thank you so much sir jay!” jay extends his arm towards you, and you place your hand in his. he brings it to his mouth, kissing it and bowing in front of you. you feel the back of your neck heat up at the action, and you bite the inside of your cheek. many lords and sir’s had done the same thing to you over your life, yet jay doing it made you flustered. he looks you straight in the eye and you awkwardly look away, taking your hand out of his and fixing your hair.

“am i too. . .cool and handsome?”

“aw fuck you!” you exclaim, whipping around, leaving him behind you laughing. and as he laughs, you can feel a smile breaking from your own face, before you join in with him, laughing underneath the stars.

taglist @soobincantswim @firstclassjaylee @yizhoutv @xuimhao @thesassy-mia @k-films

taglist is open!

a/n so i hated the original one i posted and then realized it was only HALF of the story. . embarrassment slapped me like a truck fr ngl

#jay x reader #enhypen x reader #k films #enhypen jongseong #royal au #enhypen royalty au #knight!jay #enhypen jay #enhypen au #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #engene #enhypen fic #✰✰✰ zhounauts #jay fluff #park jay #park jongseong #enhypen fluff #enha x reader #enha x y/n #enha x you #jay oneshot

[yongility]

NEO TV # ROCKABYE (taeyong x reader) 2/?.

genre: single dad au, ceo au, fluff, slightly angst, smut.

warnings: adult language, death mentions, idk there's not a lot of warning for this one.

word count: 7k (not proofread!!!)

a/n: if you want to be in the taglist, just lemme know;) enjoy!

When Taeyong was growing up, he always carried with him the memory of the wonderful family he had, a small yet at the same time, great family. He, his mother, and his father didn't need anyone else. They were always the three of them, and it was more than enough. Sure, his family wasn't always conventional, and there were obviously mistakes here and there, but that would never mean that Taeyong wouldn't be grateful for the life and love his parents provided him.

Taeyong was always a starry-eyed boy. Passionate about everything that interested him. As a child, he went through countless phases trying to discover what he wanted for his future... Would he be the same man as his father? Or would he choose another profession? Would he be a stay-at-home dad and dedicate himself to his family?

Like the hyperactive child he was... he never knew for sure, and if there was an exact word to describe Lee Taeyong, it would surely be unpredictable.

Unpredictable because no one had the slightest idea what the boy's next step would be. Unpredictable because Taeyong changed his opinions every half an hour unless he felt one hundred percent sure about what he was doing. That was Lee Taeyong, that's how his family and friends knew him, and that's how he was formed.

Nevertheless, the boy matured at a fast pace. Without necessarily feeling it present, the pressure regarding his father's company position was looming closer and closer, not explicitly, but it wasn't necessary to be so to know what would become of him once he graduated from university. He could always hear what others said about him: 'Oh, Mrs. Lee's son is a true gentleman, surely his parents will be proud of him' ... 'Will he really take over the Lee company? He's nothing more than a spoiled child who always had everything handed to him on a silver platter.'

There were always different opinions and criticisms from different perspectives. Yes, Taeyong knew he wasn't perfect, he was more than aware of it. Taeyong was human, he had made mistakes, stumbled along the way, but he always tried to put one foot forward and rise from every stumble he had encountered.

He wasn't a relationship guy. He was sure of that. Of course, he had had some teenage romances in his high school days. He had been on a few dates during college, and yes, he had had at least one relationship that had lasted at least a year.

Although this last one was more about social pressure than simply enjoying the company of the girl who was his girlfriend at his twenty-three years. He would never blame Joy and would never speak bad about her; in the end, Joy had been someone with whom he had spent part of his growth and accompanied in various moments, which was when they decided to try some kind of relationship between them and for the good of both families according to his mother. The Lee family and the Park family had been partners for a long time, so what better than to bring together both heirs of their heritage to reinforce both businesses? However, that didn't last long. Only a year, Taeyong appreciated Joy and vice versa, but definitely didn't see any future with her. He tried, he really tried. He wanted to do his best, he wanted to do things right, but he couldn't. He simply couldn't.

And with the pressure from his family and Joy's family, nothing could be contracted.

'Taeyong, we are very happy that our daughter and you are making such great progress, we can't wait to see a ring on my daughter's finger.'

'Taeyong, time is passing and you still haven't knelt before her, you know we can't grow old without seeing you at the altar.'

'Taeyong, today Joy and I were at the mall and we saw a spectacular baby clothing store, you're taking too long! How lovely it would be to already have a little one running through the halls of the house!'

Marriage, family, commitment. It was something that Taeyong didn't think about and didn't want to have at his twenty-three years. Sure, someday he would have to settle down and form his legacy, but he wished it would be with someone he truly loved, with someone he could see his future with and grow old together, but could he ever get all that someday?"

_______________________________________________

First Month.

Week one.

For someone with enough money, Taeyong didn't usually keep his apartment constantly in undergoing renovations. Lee Taeyong was a simple man, he preferred the minimalist and the modest. Nothing extravagant, nothing ostentatious. At the end of the day, there were few times he found himself at home, its only use was just for sleeping, if he had the opportunity to do so.

However, as many things had been changing suddenly in the last few days, it was no news that his apartment would be one of the things involved in one of those changes. So his apartment was now filled with piles of boxes here and there and a few cans of paint waiting to be used.

It would be a long process.

"If someone told me that, that when I return from America, I would be assembling a crib for one of my friends' daughters, I definitely wouldn't believe it," Jaehyun said slowly as he read some instructions.

"Hard to believe, but not impossible," commented Doyoung, snatching the paper from his hands and now reading the instructions.

"It's just that I only left for two weeks! And now I'm an uncle! As far as I know, that process takes nine months," exclaimed Jaehyun exasperatedly.

A thump on his head made him stop and he brought his hand to his neck to rub it as he complained slowly and looked at the cause of that attack.

"It was a nine-month process, idiot. It's just that we didn't find out about it until a little over a week ago," Doyoung told him, looking at him disapprovingly.

After that, and quietly giving up on how to build a crib, they left the room where they were and headed to the small baby carrier that was on the couch with a very peaceful Sun Hee inside it, or at least she seemed to be peaceful.

Doyoung and Jaehyun approached her, who either looked at them or made an attempt to do so, with her eyes wide open and babbling sweetly. The heads of both boys tilted as they watched the little one and her actions, almost as if they were examining her and trying to guess what her next move would be.

May the universe take care of the little one with such uncles she has.

"She looks like Taeyong," murmured Jaehyun.

"Well, of course she looks like him, she's his daughter," Doyoung replied obviously.

"She could look like her mom, who knows," the younger shrugged and continued to watch the little one. Who would have thought that one of their friends would be a father?, who would have thought that the very Lee Taeyong, who loved freedom, would become a father? The little one remained calm for a few more moments, until Doyoung and Jaehyun's gaze that was on her may have made her uncomfortable, because without further ado and letting out a whimper, she began to cry; causing both boys to look at each other and panic as they didn't know what to do next.

"Should I pick her up?" Jaehyun asked alarmed. He had never held a baby before. "Sun Hee? Calm down... calm down Sun Hee... don't cry."

"Where's Taeyong?" asked Doyoung, and the baby's crying became even louder. "Taeyong!"

"Sun Hee, please don't cry," murmured Jaehyun as he looked around, then took the remote control and turned on the TV. "Look! Look Sun Hee, the news! That so interesting, isn't it?"

"You idiot, what does she know about the news," snapped an upset Doyoung as he lightly hit his friend's arm.

"How would I know, I've never had a daughter! Where's Taeyong? Taeyong!" they called again for the attention of the father, who was not present, and the little one began to cry more and more. "Sun Hee, don't cry because I'm also going to cry," commented a very sentimental Jaehyun.

To the misfortune of both boys, Taeyong along with Johnny had gone down to the lobby of the building for a couple of things that would be delivered for the apartment renovation.

Who else but the great Lee Taeyong would leave a baby in the care of TWO adult babies? Nobody else but him.

Doyoung quickly grabbed a toy that looked like a rattle and after seeing his friend entering a great state of panic, he began to shake it trying to get the attention of the little one who seemed not to have precisely an off button, and instead of getting distracted and stopping crying with the noise of her toy, she seemed to become more uncomfortable and start crying once again.

Both friends looked at each other again, defeated. A one-week-old baby had more power over them. They would definitely be ready to be parents in about... thirty years.

"You idiots , what have you done to my princess?" Lee Taeyong questioned once inside his apartment, leaving the boxes he was carrying on the floor and approaching his daughter, lifting her in his arms and making her cry cease once she felt the warmth of her father.

"What did we do to her? What did she do to us!" exclaimed Jaehyun, bringing his hands to his face.

"You're so dramatic, Sun Hee is a sunshine," commented Johnny, approaching his friends and stroking the cheeks of the little one in Taeyong's arms. "Aren't you? You're a very pretty sunshine, Sun Hee, I bet when you grow up you'll be so pretty that everyone will be after you," he said in a high-pitched voice while Sun Hee seemed to be very familiar with the voice of her third uncle, who was making a very small attempt at a smile.

"Look at that, it seems like Sunnie already has favoritism towards one of her uncles," Taeyong said, smiling tenderly as he saw his daughter calmer.

"Johnny her favorite uncle? I'm the godfather!" exclaimed Doyoung offended.

"He's the godfather?" Jaehyun and Johnny asked incredulously, pointing at Doyoung.

Oh no.

Taeyong looked innocently at his friends and smiled slightly once an idea lit up his head.

"Whoever manages to assemble her crib will be her godfather. Isn't that right, Sun Hee?" the little one just babbled while her eyes closed, beginning to drift off to sleep.

He didn't need to repeat his sentence before his friends ran out of the room and ran towards the place that would be Sun Hee's room.

Taeyong laughed and left his little daughter in the baby carrier while gently rocking her.

It will be a long day.

_____________________________________________

First month.

Week three.

If there's one thing people know about Lee Taeyong, it's that he's a dedicated and determined man. A workaholic perhaps, and that might be the reason behind the great success and reputation of his company. Taeyong knew what he was doing, and he was the best at it. His investments always remained clean and on a large scale; any businessman would feel honored to work with the great Lee, or even to have a minimal connection with him. He was well-known in the business world, not just because of who his father was, but because of the great work he had done on his own to achieve everything his companies obtained after his father's retirement. A young man in big business, respected by the world.

That was Lee Taeyong.

He was also a man of routine and hated when it was affected. Over the years and as he grew older, Taeyong realized that the best thing for him was to have a schedule ready for each morning so that things would go more smoothly and efficiently. His days were mostly planned, but it was obvious that there would always be some unexpected event to deal with during the day. However, Taeyong always found a way to handle it as organized as possible.

However, with the arrival of Sun Hee in his life, and what it caused to change completely, his routine had to be terribly affected. He had been aware that this would happen, at least in the first weeks – or months – of Sun Hee's life. At least until he could take her to a daycare or until he could find a nanny he could trust completely to leave the most precious thing in his life in her care.

So for now, he had to play two roles, that of being a father and that of being the CEO of one of Korea's most important companies. Although now that he could see his life from two completely different points of view, he could assure that the first role was by far more difficult than the second.

He had heard a lot about being a father, even his mother had given him a book on how to be a father, he thought it would help, but it really didn't help at all. Being a single father was hard, especially being a first-timer; his mind was in chaos. Of course, he loved Sun Hee, she was his life, his ray of sunshine, but sometimes it was too much to handle, sometimes the diapers didn't fit as nicely as a pretty nurse had taught him... Sometimes Sun Hee didn't want to drink the formula that Taeyong offered her when she was supposed to eat – and according to his mother, maybe it was because the girl needed breast milk, how the hell could Taeyong do that? – Sometimes no matter how much effort he made, Sun Hee wouldn't stop crying.

And that's where he was right now. At three in the morning, with visible dark circles under his eyes, his hair disheveled, barefoot while rocking Sun Hee back and forth in his arms, who seemed to find no peace.

"Shh, Sunnie. What's wrong? You should sleep a little, don't you want to let Daddy rest a bit?"

The day for Taeyong had been difficult; there had been some mishaps in the company that couldn't be dealt with from home, so he had to go there with Sun Hee as his company.

The confused looks from his employees had not been of much help to him at that moment.

Nor had it been of much help that Sun Hee had been whiny all day. Taeyong didn't understand what was going on with his little one, it wasn't that she needed a diaper change, it wasn't that she was hungry... she just spent the day throwing little complaints.

And that had been too much for Taeyong. The pressure of business matters and the responsibility he had as a father became too much.

Sun Hee continued to cry in his arms, and Taeyong felt like he would cry at any moment too.

"Sunnie, please. I don't want us to be kicked out of the building for bothering the neighbors," murmured a very frustrated father. "Calm down, baby, can you do that for me? Can you calm down a bit, huh? Can you do that for Daddy?"

Taeyong stroked his daughter's cheek, who seemed to stop crying and just let out a few small sobs that hopefully would stop in a few seconds.

He sighed and relaxed his body, bringing Sun Hee closer to him.

And maybe... just maybe, he spoke too quickly.

Because as soon as he was relaxed, his daughter started crying again, and this time Taeyong couldn't take it anymore and cried too. He sat on his bed with her in his arms, and a few tears fell from his eyes.

Looking at his daughter and seeing the state she was in, he couldn't help but feel his heart ache. Sun Hee looked so fragile, so small. How could he keep her safe? How could he make everything alright? Oh, how he wished he had come into the world with all the knowledge about how to be a good father in his mind.

"I wish I could know what's wrong with you, Sun Hee, but I can't read your little mind," he murmured between sobs. Obviously, his daughter didn't respond, but rather continued with her act.

His lungs would probably hurt right now with all the crying he had done, and that terrified Taeyong, who stood in his place and walked to the bedside table, where he picked up his phone and entered his contacts list. He didn't exactly know what he was doing or why, but his desperation overpowered him, and in a moment his fingers were dialing the only number he could think of, he just hoped he was doing the right thing.

One tone... two tones...

It's three in the morning, Lee Taeyong, who would answer you at this hour?

Three tones... four tones.

"Hello?" a very sleepy voice was heard on the other end of the line, and Taeyong could feel the air returning to his lungs.

"Y/N?, I'm really sorry for calling you at this hour," Lee murmured as he left his daughter in her rocker and held his phone between his shoulder and ear.

(Y/N) recognized that voice after a few seconds and recognized those cries even more, making her sit up briefly in her bed and mentally forcing herself to wake up completely.

"Taeyong? What's wrong? Is it Sun Hee the one I hear?"

Of course, it's Sun Hee, idiot! What other daughter does Lee Taeyong have?

"Yes, it's Sun Hee... and I... don't know what's going on. Sunnie has been complaining all day and hasn't stopped crying for a while. I don't know what to do, I've already changed her diaper, she's already eaten, I even sang her some lullabies, but nothing works," explained Taeyong desperately. "I don't know what to do, I'm tired, my arms hurt from carrying her so much, I've memorized all the nursery rhymes, and Sun Hee doesn't seem happy with anything."

"Oh, Taeyong..."

"You were sleeping, weren't you? Oh God, I'm so sorry, I know it's late, but calling you was the only thing I could think of, I'm really sorry..."

"Taeyong?" (Y/N) called him. "Don't worry, I told you that you could call me if you ever needed it. I have no problem helping you, even if it's three in the morning," the girl could hear the soft laugh of the nurse on the other end of the line, and this created a great contrast between the incessant cries of his daughter and the sweet laughter of (Y/N). "What can I do for you?"

"I know it's late, but I can't think of anything else, can you come? Or if you want, I can put Sun Hee in her car seat and drive over there!" Taeyong explained quickly.

"Calm down, I don't think it's the best idea for you to drive stressed and with Sun Hee crying in the back seat. Send me your address, and I'll be there in a moment."

"Thank you, (Y/N), I wouldn't be calling at this hour if I really didn't need it..."

______________________________________________

The door of Taeyong's large apartment was knocked, and this alerted the boy as he carried his baby close to his chest. Lee headed to the entrance of his house, and when he opened it, he found (Y/N) in a very different contrast than he had become accustomed to seeing her. For obvious reasons, she was not in her work clothes, and now she was wearing a black sweatshirt with cute pants covered in puppy drawings all over. Her hair slightly loose and without a drop of makeup.

Even so, she looked pretty.

Taeyong blinked a couple of times and moved aside to let the girl pass while he continued to rock his daughter.

(Y/N) entered the apartment and approached the father and the little girl.

"Can you lay her down somewhere? I'd like to give her a quick check-up,"

Taeyong nodded without hesitation, walked to the room that had been adapted for Sun Hee, and laid her down in her crib. The crib that Johnny had successfully built, opening the fight between who would truly be Sun Hee's godfather... something they would detail later.

Once the little one was in her crib, (Y/N) lifted her clothes slightly to observe Sun Hee's stomach and see a few more things. The boy simply watched in silence, resigned by his daughter's cries and giving a couple of glances to the girl beside him.

I wish the call I made had been for something else and not for this.

Taeyong and (Y/N) hadn't had contact since that time two weeks ago when the former had left the hospital. Taeyong tried to call her a couple of times, to thank her again for everything she had done for them during the time she had been Sun Hee's nurse, but for some reason, he was always busy enough with his daughter and the company, and he didn't allow himself to do it.

He would have liked to invite her for coffee sometime.

He really would have liked that.

"I'm not exactly a doctor," (Y/N) spoke. "But I've worked with many babies to see these consistent behaviors. It seems to me that Sun Hee is suffering from colic; I think it would be best to take her to the pediatrician first thing in the morning just to be sure."

Taeyong nodded without saying a word, maybe because he was too tired to formulate anything or because maybe his mind was no longer processing anything. (Y/N) smiled tenderly, regardless of the little one's whining; after all, it was something she heard daily in maternal care.

"Can I?" she asked, pointing to Sun Hee. Taeyong nodded again, and (Y/N) took the little one in her arms. "Oh Sun Hee, it's been a while since we last saw each other; you look even prettier than two weeks ago, even though you won't stop crying," she murmured, earning a small laugh from Taeyong.

"Try spending three hours listening to her cry," the visibly tired boy replied.

"I work in maternal care, remember? I hear several babies cry at the same time."

"True," Taeyong sighed, "it's just that it's tiring, you know? Particularly today was a heavy day, and it seems that Sunnie has no intention of letting me sleep tonight."

"We'll try to fix it then," (Y/N) gave him a smile, glanced around the room, and when she found a rocking chair, she went there to sit down.

She placed Sun Hee on her lap face down and began to pat her back gently, then used her fingers to give her a little massage, delicate enough for her. For a moment, the crying didn't stop, but after a few minutes, the father found himself really surprised to notice that his daughter had managed to calm down.

From the doorway of the room, with his arms crossed over his chest... Taeyong smiled.

But what a sight. (Y/N) tried not to be distracted by this and continued to massage while clearing her throat.

"The nursery is very nice," she commented, trying to look anywhere but at the boy's figure.

Taeyong nodded and approached her slightly.

If you don't see him, you won't be distracted... if you're not distracted by him, you won't think anything impure...

"Yes, we set it up the first week Sun Hee was here. The guys and I went through a moment-" Taeyong laughed as he remembered the day- "Do you remember, Doyoung? He was the one who accompanied me on the last day at the hospital," (Y/N) nodded, "Doyoung, Johnny, and Jaehyun helped me, it was chaos, but we managed to set everything up... still, Sun Hee doesn't sleep here yet."

"Really?"

"Mhmm, Sunnie sleeps with me. In a way, it's easier for her to sleep if I'm by her side; I just put some pillows around her, and she sleeps in my bed," he commented, feeling his cheeks blush. In reality, it wasn't so much that Sun Hee had gotten used to him, but rather that Taeyong rested more peacefully knowing that his daughter was by his side, so he would know that, if something happened, he could respond immediately.

"That's very sweet," she commented, "how has everything been? It's been three weeks since I heard anything from you," she continued massaging the little one's back.

"Uh, it's been good, I guess. Sometimes a bit chaotic, but I have my parents' help and Sun Hee's uncles," he replied, "... my friends, they say they're Sunnie's uncles, and I agree with them, they're like my brothers."

"It's nice to know you have someone to lean on; it would be much harder if you were alone," she took the baby in her arms and rocked her as she saw her sleepy face.

Taeyong, surprised by the immense ability of the nurse, watched the scene with tenderness, which looked too domestic. Too much for Taeyong's liking.

"Yes, it's been hard, but they've been a great help. I've been working from here, so I have to take care of the company and Sun Hee at the same time. Sometimes it gets stressful, but I have to keep doing it, at least until Sunnie gets bigger and I can get a nanny... or take her to the company. I don't know which of the two options is worse."

"You'll surely find a good nanny or daycare," (Y/N) encouraged, "you know? We have a daycare at the hospital... well, not exactly in maternal care or in the hospital itself, it's affiliated. Sometimes I cover shifts there; maybe you should consider it."

"Yes, maybe," Taeyong smiled.

Both remained silent for a few seconds, (Y/N) still gently rocking the little one to not wake her from the sleep she had fallen into, and Taeyong discreetly looking at the nurse.

Never in his life did he think he would find himself in such a situation.

But he wasn't complaining; he liked the scene. It was nice to see.

(Y/N) also discreetly contemplated the scene and thought to herself: How is it possible for Lee Taeyong to look so attractive at three in the morning? Even with dark circles under his eyes?

It wasn't news that the man seemed attractive to her, but after three weeks without hearing from him, she thought she wouldn't think of him that way. Of course, Taeyong and Sun Hee were constantly on her mind; she wanted to know about them on many occasions, but she had no way to contact with him, and the hospital, for good reasons, wouldn't give her the Lee family's private information; after all, it's the hospital's policies, and she would respect them.

However, she was grateful that Taeyong had called her, even though it had been at three in the morning on a Tuesday, to deal with Sun Hee's irritated problem.

She just hoped that if they met again, it would be in a different situation...

______________________________________________

An hour and a half later, with a deeply sleeping Sun Hee in Taeyong's bed surrounded by pillows, and the clock showing four forty-five in the morning. Lee Taeyong and Kang (Y/N) were in the living room of the apartment, not saying much.

"I think I should go," the girl commented. "I start my shift in a few hours."

Two hours and fifteen minutes to be exact.

"Oh my God, (T/N), you should have told me you had an early shift; I wouldn't have made you come here if I had known," Taeyong exclaimed alarmed.

"Don't worry, really. I told you that you could call me if you ever needed anything, and I meant it. You and Sun Hee would never be a problem. I'm glad to help," she smiled.

"Thank you very much, it means a lot to me that you did this," the boy commented. For a moment, he thought about taking the girl's hands and giving them a slight squeeze, but he held back his thoughts. "I promise to repay you soon... maybe with a coffee?" the brunette asked, feeling a surge of hope in his chest.

He saw the girl's smile widen, causing him to smile as well, and he lowered his gaze shyly.

"Rest assured that I'll say yes," she replied. "I'll be waiting for your call, even if it takes three weeks again," she joked.

"I won't take that long this time, I promise you."

"We'll see about that... in the meantime, don't forget to take Sun Hee to the pediatrician tomorrow; anything you need, you can call me, Lee Taeyong. I'd like to know how things are going with Sun Hee afterward."

"I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Goodnight, Lee Taeyong."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)."

And so, at five in the morning, each went to bed with a small smile decorating their faces.

____________________________________________

For (Y/N), life was something she appreciated.

Perhaps that's why she chose to work in the healthcare field.

She grew up in a middle-class family. Nothing extravagant, but with everything necessary to live comfortably. Her family wasn't large either; it was just her, her two siblings, and her parents. A typical family with its ups and downs.

She was never demanding and instead tried to help with whatever she could. She liked making people feel good and enjoyed contributing whenever possible, something that made her parents proud.

She grew up as a normal girl, at least until she reached high school, where her parents' divorce took place. She never knew when it happened or what led them to make that decision, which left a scar on her heart.

Or maybe she always knew but never wanted to acknowledge it.

She must have noticed it when her parents started arguing over every little thing. She must have noticed it when her father was less present at home. Surely, she noticed it when her mother cried all day in her room when her husband spent the entire night away. Perhaps the times when her older sister was irritated and left home to hang out with people of dubious reputation were a sign of how her family was gradually falling apart.

However, she hoped it wouldn't be like that.

Still, despite how much that decision affected her, she continued with her life as best as she could, being a support to her mother and becoming the older sister when her brother failed in that task.

She became an independent woman. She didn't like relying on others for money, which is why she managed to work since she entered high school. It was a part-time job, enough for her to have her own money, and it was the job that allowed her to find her vocation and passion.

Her job wasn't complicated – or at least, it didn't feel that way because it was something she genuinely enjoyed. Every day, after finishing her last high school class, (Y/N) rushed to the Dongjak area, where on a small street, she found the daycare center that allowed her to find her path. At that time, she didn't fully interact with the children, as she lacked the experience needed and was still young for that, but she was the assistant to the caregivers there, and seeing them work excited her every day.

She didn't know if she had developed an emotional attachment there, after the conflicts that had arisen at home due to her parents' arguments.

But she enjoyed being there, she really did.

Then her sister, in an attempt to leave home and go with who she swore was the love of her life, got pregnant at a young age. It was a difficult pregnancy, and (Y/N) took part in taking care of her sister throughout the process. She appreciated everything she had learned at the daycare center, which allowed her to put it into practice once her nephew was born.

Her nephew was the apple of her eye and would always be.

She didn't blame her sister, she really didn't want to, but there were times when it seemed like she was the mother of her nephew herself. There were many occasions when she had to take care of Jisung. Her sister had to leave high school behind and get a job to cover her and her son's needs, especially after the man who swore to always be by her side had cowardly fled two months before giving birth, making the childbirth process even more difficult than it already was.

So, her nephew saw her as a pillar. Someone who took care of him, fed him, changed him, and cared for him. (Y/N) even witnessed his "firsts" before his own mother. His first steps, his first words, she even accompanied him on his first day of preschool, continuing until she had to go to university.

Having found her vocation early on made everything easier. She entered the Academy of Health and Pediatric Nursing in Seoul. Where she always got good grades and became an exemplary student, graduating with all the honors her academy could give her almost three years ago.

It wasn't difficult for her to find a job immediately, thanks to the recommendations some of her teachers had, she was able to find a nice position in the maternity and pediatric care area at Seoul General Hospital, where she couldn't feel more comfortable.

Where she was right now.

" Nurse (Y/N)!" a soft voice called from behind her, causing her to turn around and smile emotionally.

"Hello, little one," she greeted, approaching the bed of one of her patients. "How are you feeling today?"

"Very well, they told Mom that I can go home today, they say the treatment worked," the boy told her with a huge smile on his face.

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that! You'll soon be back to see your friends at school," she encouraged him.

"Yes, but I'll miss you a lot, so I made this for you," he said, pointing to the piece of paper in his hands. "It's you and me."

(Y/N) smiled tenderly and looked at the drawing Kaeyoon had made for her.

"It's very nice, Yoonie, thank you very much for your gift, I'll hang it on my fridge," she said as she high-fived the boy. Then she looked at the drawing and looked doubtful. "And who is he? Is he your dad?" she asked, pointing to another figure in the drawing.

"No, that's Doctor Yuta, and he has hearts in his eyes because he's your boyfriend!" he exclaimed happily, causing (Y/N) to widen her eyes and then release a smile.

"But Yoonie~, Doctor Yuta is not my boyfriend," she replied, still laughing.

"Then can I be your boyfriend?” he asked skillfully.

"Oh, honey, I'm afraid you're too young for me," she replied with a smile.

"And when I get bigger?"

"Maybe when you're big," (T/N) continued. "But by then, you'll surely have found another girlfriend that will have your age."

"But you're the prettiest! Besides, I have to beat Doctor Yuta," he muttered.

"What do you have to beat me in?" another voice chimed in, and (Y/N)'s body reacted to it.

"In nothing."

"In being (Y/N)'s boyfriend," Kaeyoon and (T/N) replied in unison.

Yuta opened his mouth and pretended to be surprised. "So it's a competition?"

"Yoonie's just kidding," (T/N) said with a nervous smile. "You know how kids are, doctor."

"Look, doctor! I've made a drawing for you too," Kaeyoon exclaimed, changing the subject drastically, and it was the perfect opportunity for (Y/N) to awkwardly step away from there.

She wrapped the drawing in the paper and put it in the pocket of her pants before starting to check the checklist and see which child she should attend to. She stood at the desk for a few seconds, checking and arranging things until she felt a presence beside her, one that she could easily identify.

"So you have little kids falling for you," Yuta commented with a mocking smile.

(T/N) smiled nervously. "That's how kids are. Two weeks ago, he was in love with Nurse Mina."

"But he was right to fall for you," Dr. Yuta continued, and (T/N) let out a laugh followed by him. "Would you like to go for a coffee in your next break at the hospital cafeteria? I mean, it's not the most elegant thing, but I'd like to spend some more time with you."

(Y/N)'s cheeks turned crimson, and she nodded, smiling. "Oh yes, of course. I would love to."

"Maybe I might win you over Kaeyoon," Yuta said as he walked away from the desk.

_______________________________________________

Second month.

Week one, Thursday.

(Y/N) had been right two weeks ago. Sun Hee was suffering from colic, and according to the pediatrician, it was due to the formula Taeyong had been feeding her.

Taeyong instinctively felt like a bad father; he had been feeding his daughter something her little stomach seemed unable to tolerate. But how could he have known? He had to completely discard those formula cans from his pantry and replace them with the new formula the pediatrician had recommended, and soon, Sun Hee's discomfort was diminishing.

Even now, he could sleep a little more at night.

Along with the massages he had learned the night (Y/N) had helped him and a couple of other routines, Sun Hee's colic decreased.

(Y/N)…

Although Taeyong had assured not to take three weeks again to contact her, it seemed that Taeyong really wanted to leave her waiting. Not to misinterpret, it wasn't that he didn't want to call her and invite her for a coffee, but his life was busy, and his priority was his daughter instead of throwing flirty glances around.

Although he knew that a coffee was the least Taeyong could offer her in gratitude for that time at three in the morning, he simply couldn't muster the courage to pick up his damn phone and dial a few numbers. Besides, he didn't want to misread the signs; who would want to date a dad?

"You should just call her," Johnny advised as he watched his friend from the other side of the couch.

Sun Hee rested on her father's chest as he stared at his phone incessantly.

"I don't know, John," Taeyong replied with a sigh.

"How long has it been? Two weeks? You should have called her the next day."

"I don't want to pressure anything... maybe she's not interested."

"The girl came at three in the morning on a Tuesday, do you really think she wouldn't be even slightly interested?" Johnny asked incredulously.

"It was for Sun Hee, nothing else. She said she wouldn't mind helping with Sun Hee whenever she could," the younger one confessed, stroking his daughter's back.

"You should give yourself more credit, Lee Taeyong. You're a coveted and handsome man; being a dad now doesn't change how attractive you are."

"I was hoping she would be interested, not you," he joked, and Johnny contemplated throwing a pillow at him for a moment, but after seeing his niece on his friend's chest, he stopped.

"You'll never know if she has even a little interest if you don't call her. Plus, for the favor she did you, it's the least you can do."

Taeyong fell silent and sighed.

"I know, I'm aware of that," he replied, closing his eyes momentarily. "I'll keep considering it."

"You're stubborn," Johnny commented, rolling his eyes.

"Alright, alright. Get your ass up and come with me to the supermarket; Sun Hee finished her formula, and she needs more."

"Anything for my niece."

______________________________________________

“What do you think of this?” Johnny asked as he showed Taeyong a jar of baby food.

Taeyong turned around and snorted.

“Sun Hee still can't eat those things; besides, the doctor recommended that once Sunnie started trying food, I should prepare her purees myself. It's more natural,” the father shrugged, glancing at his daughter strapped to his chest in a baby carrier.

“Wow.”

“Wow what?”

“I never in my life imagined you playing the role of a dad,” Johnny commented with a half-smile.

His friend sighed and placed a can of formula in the shopping cart before sighing again.

“I didn't either, but Sun Hee came, and I'll try to be the best father she could have,“ he replied, smiling as he looked at his daughter. “ Everything happened very quickly, but Sunnie is a ray of sunshine.”

“She is!” Johnny agreed, then cleared his throat. “When are you going back to work? At the company, I mean.”

“John, this isn't the place to talk about that,” Taeyong said, pushing the cart.

“Taeyong, you know it has to happen. At some point in your life, you have to return to your usual routine. You can't work from home your whole life. Even the day will come when you have to go out and have fun too!”

“Johnny, stop”

“You know I'm right, Taeyong.”

The younger one sighed again. "I know, John, but now isn't the time for that. Sunnie is only two months old; the day will come when I can take her to the office without her getting irritated so quickly or the day when she's big enough to leave her in daycare."

“Just promise me you won't put your life completely on hold. I know Sunnie is your priority now, and some things change when you become a father, but please, also give yourself some time. If you ever need it, you can ask your mother to take care of her, I could even be Sun Hee's babysitter for a day!”

“I'd rather leave Sunnie with Doyoung and Jaehyun than with you,” Taeyong joked.

“Hey! How could you prefer to leave my niece with those two clowns? They can't even take care of themselves!”

Taeyong chuckled and continued pushing the shopping cart while considering what groceries to bring home.

“Okay, Johnny, I really appreciate it.”

His friend kept talking beside him, but he wasn't really paying attention. Instead, he was focusing on the items on the shelves and what he should take home, gently rocking Sun Hee to prevent her from crying right there.

He stopped somewhere between the cereal aisle and the canned goods, and upon hearing a child's laughter, he turned to his right, finding a very familiar face. The girl was about twenty steps away from him, with a smile on her face as she listened to what a little boy was saying to her.

Taeyong was confused; his brow furrowed as he looked sideways at the scene. Was that girl (Y/N)? If so, who was the boy next to her? His eyes widened; could he be her son? But what about that time at three in the morning? She wouldn't leave her child alone somewhere to go help another family... What if she had a husband and left him with him? Oh no, no, no, no.

“Taeyong?“ a female voice brought him back to reality, and he focused on the girl coming towards him with a confused expression, then smiling as she recognized him.

“ (Y/N), hi” he greeted, once she and the boy holding her hand were in front of him.

“ Of all the places we could run into each other, it has to be the supermarket” she commented, laughing softly.

Taeyong smiled. "Yes, Sunnie ran out of formula, so I had to come for more," he explained, pointing at his daughter.

“ Oh, I see. How's Sun Hee? I haven't heard from you since about two weeks ago,“ she inquired.

“She's been better; she had colics because her stomach couldn't handle the formula she was drinking. Now everything's fine.”

“I'm glad to hear that,“ (Y/N) noticed how Taeyong discreetly observed Jisung and spoke, “ Oh, yes, he's Jisung*. He's my nephew; I brought him to buy his favorite cereal, and he's staying over tonight.”

The guy felt the blood rushing back through his body and smiled warmly as he leaned slightly to look at the little boy.

“Hey, hi champ. I'm Taeyong, and she” he momentarily uncovered his daughter's face “ is Sun Hee.”

“Hi, Mr. I'm Jisung, and I'm this many,“ he held up his right hand, raising five fingers and showing them to Taeyong, who smiled tenderly.

“Oh, that's a lot. You're almost catching up to me.”

“Yeah, he’s almost your age” she laughed off.

In that brief moment, Taeyong and (Y/N) exchanged a few more words. The guy was distracted by her, now seeing her in a different light. He had seen her in her work clothes, then in pajamas when he called her at three in the morning, and now he saw her in a floral dress and a thin sweater covering her, with her hair loose and slightly wavy, and a bit of gloss on her lips.

She looked phenomenal. Actually, she looked phenomenal no matter what.

In nurse's attire, in pajamas, he was sure she would even look spectacular in a sack of potatoes because she just shone in every way.

However, his little and discreet admiration was interrupted when Johnny's voice called him abruptly.

“Hey, Taeyong. Look what I found; this would look cute on my niece” Johnny spoke, lightly tapping his back as he reached his side. Then he realized the situation and smiled sideways, “Oh, I didn't know you had found someone. I'm Johnny Suh, pleased to meet you” the blonde commented, extending his hand to the girl and giving a high-five to the little boy.

“She's (Y/N),” Taeyong said, fearing the worst.

“Oh.”

“ Nice to meet you, Johnny. I'm (Y/N). I was Sun Hee's nurse while she was in the hospital” she spoke kindly.

Johnny smiled playfully and turned to look at his friend, who was looking at him barely shaking his head.

Taeyong could expect anything from his friend, and that was what he feared the most.

“Oh, so you're the nurse Yong wanted to invite for coffee?“ he innocently asked.

“Johnny.”

“Hmm, I don't know” she responded with a little laugh, “Am I?”

“Excuse my friend; he's a very busy and absent-minded man” Johnny explained, receiving a small punch in his ribs from Taeyong, who smiled falsely and continued talking to the girl, “Isn't that right, Taeyong?”

“Yes, sorry for not calling you back after that night; I've just been taking care of Sun Hee and working at the company, so I didn't find the right moment to call you” Taeyong spoke with his head slightly bowed, feeling embarrassed.

“Oh, don't worry. I figured you'd be busy. No need to apologize; I completely understand” she assured him with a smile.

“But what a lovely girl! You better invite her for coffee; otherwise, I'll do it myself” Johnny encouraged while still smiling, causing (Y/N) to laugh.

“Johnny...”

“I was just kidding,“ he raised his arms in a sign of innocence, “but I'll leave you two alone; I heard there's a sale on floral detergent. I can't miss it!“ he exclaimed so that, without further ado, he walked away from the aisle and left both guys with both children, alone.

“I'm sorry, really. Sometimes Johnny can be... extra,” Taeyong apologized quickly, shaking his head with a smile, “but what he said is true; I wanted to invite you for coffee, but I couldn't find the right moment to call you. I'm sorry for taking so long.”

She smiled sideways and nodded slightly as she placed her hand on the guy's shoulder.

“It's okay. I waited for your call after you said you wouldn't take three weeks to call me this time,” she said, laughing, “but I figured you'd be busy, so no hard feelings.

“Is it still time for me to invite you?” he asked, his big eyes shining. (Y/N) nodded with her cheeks turning red, “How about Saturday afternoon? I know of a café not far from here, and they sell amazing muffins. I'm sure you'll like the place.”

“You've convinced me with the muffins.”

“Of course” Taeyong laughed. “I'll send you the location by text... this time, I'll do it.”

“I'll wait for your message then,” she said, nodding, then staying silent for a few seconds.

Should they say goodbye now? Should he wave his hand? Or leave a kiss on her cheek? They still didn't have the confidence for that, did they? Would it be weird if he did? How complicated everything is!

“Auntie, I want to go now,” the voice of a little boy took them out of their trance, and they changed their view to the kid.

“Oh, of course, my love. Have you had your cereal?” the girl asked, and Jisung nodded, “Okay, then we’ll go,” she assured him, then turned her gaze back to the boy and the little one on his chest, “it's been nice seeing you; give Sun Hee a kiss from me, have a good night.”

“See you on Saturday.”

“See you on Saturday, Taeyong.”

______________________________________________

The boy approached his car where Johnny was leaning against it, waiting for him. Taeyong gave him a dirty look, and the blond raised his arms as he opened the back door.

“Don't look at me like that! “ he pleaded with a smile “I did you a favor, dude!”

“Just don't say anything and put the stuff in the trunk” Taeyong ordered as he placed Sunnie in her car seat.

Johnny obeyed his friend's orders and began to put everything inside the car. After a few minutes, he returned to Taeyong's side, who had already settled Sun Hee comfortably and asleep in her car seat.

“Come on, help me get rid of this thing, it's stuck,” the brunette said as he tried to open one of the zippers of his baby carrier, struggling with it.

His friend approached him even closer and tried to help in a failed attempt; the zipper was stuck, and it didn't seem to want to open even with all the force in the universe.

“Let me try, don't move,” Johnny requested as he held his friend by the back and put one of his hands on the zipper of the carrier, “why won't it come out?”

“What a beautiful family!“ the exclamation of an older lady was heard, causing both boys to look at her. She was looking at them with a tender smile as she waved at them. Then they looked at each other and at their current position, prompting Taeyong to quickly push him away with his hands, and Johnny cleared his throat as he turned around.

“You get rid of that by yourself”

I’m sorry I took too long for posting this!! 😭

Taglist is open, just lemme know if u want to be added! You can ask me something if you want here!

Taglist: @geminiml95 @zooana @cathamada

#nctzen #nct #nct au #nct imagines #nct x reader #mark #nct 127 #jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct x you #taeyong x y/n #taeyong x you #lee taeyong x reader #taeyong x reader #lee taeyong #taeyong #nct taeyong #single dad #ceo au #nct fanfic #nct fluff #Taeyong au #taeyong fanfic #taeyong fluff #taeyong angst

[pianokantzart]

By The Numbers (Pt. 2)

Luigi hoped to use one of his own special talents to give the Super Mario Bros. Plumbing company the leg-up it needed to succeed. But as usual, for all his good intentions, the younger of The Mario Brothers finds himself in over his head.

Part one: X Part three: X

Also available on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52624285/chapters/133658035#workskin

______________

Once more, Luigi’s eyes darted around in search of his brother. In the half-second it took for him to remember he was alone, his mind clung to Mario's name and face, and held to it like it was the only thing that existed in the world. He remembered when he was smaller, shuddering at everything from leashed dogs, to rumbling thunder, to overzealous distant relatives. He would clutch at his brother’s hand and press close, and Mario would smile at him with a big grin, full of holes from all the baby teeth they worked together to knock free.

“I got ya’!” That was what he’d usually say, taking on the intonation of one of the many superheroes he loved to watch on TV, beaming with pride in his own bravery.

He grew braver as they grew older, while Luigi merely found new methods of holding himself together. The words “sensitive” turned into less forgiving words: sap, sissy, pushover, wuss, crybaby.

In fifth grade, he and his brother stumbled home from school covered in bruises for the first time. That was when their dad first taught them to throw a punch. 

As obedient and attentive as Luigi was, Mario was far more eager to put the newfound knowledge into practice, and practice he did… over and over and over. If ever some inflated ego leapt upon Luigi’s meekness like a shark smelling blood in the water, Mario came out swinging. ___ Luigi barely kept his footing as he was thrust into a barely lit corridor deep within the subway, all but abandoned and perfectly empty in the early morning hours. His freedom was short lived. The moment he tried to retreat the ringleader took hold of him once more, one hand snatching his shirt collar as the other seized his sleeve. In a sleight of hand trick that, in any other circumstance, Luigi would have admired, the man pulled an ace of clubs from Luigi’s wrist cuff. “See?” Warren said, waving the card toward his three companions, “Told’ ya he cheated.” Warren. That was his name… the large man with the golden lapel pin; bad at poker, good at sleight of hand. Luigi had managed to overhear some of the muttered conversations while he was dragged away. The three others– who had thus far gone nameless– were uninvolved in last night’s gambling, but interested in helping Warren “settle the score.”

At once, the three were upon Luigi, tugging at his clothes in search of more hidden aces. “Wait! W-ait!” Luigi tried to argue, his voice hitching on every yank and shove, “The dealer would’ve noticed if I had played any extra caRDS-” A vicious tug on his vest broke off his sentence and one of his little golden buttons. Luigi bent down and tried to retrieve it from the ground, but before he could his left sleeve was gripped, yanked, and ripped along the length of the cuff, nearly dislocating Luigi's arm in the process “Ow! A-and even if he didn’t!” Luigi continued, trying in vain to guard his suit from further damage, “There were cameras on us the whole time! Surely someone would’ve noticed if– hey!” Luigi’s argument was halted when his hat was snatched from his head. He instinctively lurched to grab it back, but the two men on either side of him held tight to his shoulders while the third nameless thug turned the green cap inside out, gripped the inner lining, and began to rip it away, much to Luigi’s horror.

“No! Don’t! Not the hat! My Mom made that for me!” This sentiment caused all four confronters to erupt into gales of laughter, forgetting their fruitless search in order to mockingly yank at Luigi’s cheeks and ruffle his hair.

“Awe, his mom made that for him!” “Oh no! Did you hear that? Not his mom!” “Awe, is Mommy dearest going to chew you out?”

Luigi’s breath quickened. His cheeks turned red and hot as a tiny ember of anger flared up amidst his panic. Teeth grit, he redoubled his efforts to escape, yanking with all his might against his captors to the point that one of them was nearly knocked off his feet.

He was on the verge of wrenching a limb free when Warren, who had mostly stayed off to the side during the ordeal, charged him.

The plumber hardly had time to see the danger coming when a ham-sized fist slammed into his stomach, calloused knuckles blunted with golden rings knocking the fight clean out of him in one fierce, world-shattering blow.

‘Oh, he definitely has boxing experience’ drifted through Luigi’s mind in a moment of disconnect before the pain of the impact crumpled him to the ground, gagging and coughing, desperate to both reintroduce air to his lungs and keep dinner in his concussed stomach.

___

By ninth grade, their father was reconsidering the lessons he’d taught when Mario came home with a black eye and disciplinary note curled up in his raw fist. A classmate had shoved Luigi into a locker hard enough to send him to the ground in a mess of books and papers. Mario, predictably, leapt upon the bully like an angry cougar.

“Have you lost your mind? Did you think for even a second before doing anything?” Luigi heard his fathers frustrated voice through the thin wall of their home. Pressing his ear up against the wallpaper, he heard his brother respond, equal in tone and volume.

“I was just trying to protect him.” “Stop using him as an excuse! Luigi’s never gonna stand up for himself if you do all the standing up for him.” “He shouldn’t have to!” “Look at yourself, Mario! You're gonna get torn apart if you try to be his shield your entire life.” Things fell quiet for a moment. Their Dad was the first to break the silence, now speaking far more calmly as Luigi heard the disciplinary note crinkle in his hands.

“A week of out-of-school suspension won’t look good on any college application, but short-term it’s probably for the best. Luigi needs to learn to fight his own battles, and you need to learn to control yourself.” Stepping back from the wall, Luigi sat down and thought it over, letting the guilt swim deep inside his stomach as tears pricked the corners of his eyes. He wanted to do better. He intended to do better. He imagined a week where he stood firm, bracing against stray shoves and kicks with raised fists and an unwavering glare, the way his brother did. Be a man for once.

He didn’t, of course. He spent the next seven days on high alert, keeping his head down and his mouth shut, careful to avoid any hallway where danger lurked, spending lunch hours helping teachers shelve books and clean erasers. When the bell rang he dove into the center of his throng of peers to stay carefully hidden from view until he made it to the little light post right outside of school grounds, where his brother stood waiting for him at the end of every day so they could walk home together.

"So, what happened today?" Mario asked, eager to keep a tally of whoever needed to face justice when he returned to school. Luigi shrugged. "Nothing," he said, quietly and truthfully, eyes fixed to the sky overhead.

___

“Did you hear what I said?” Luigi felt his hat returned to his head and shoved over eyes by the same large hand that knocked him to the ground. “What did you do with my money?”

“Put- … put it away.” Luigi wheezed, grasping to create some sort of response as he still reeled from pain and fear. The few words he could whisper out proved coherent enough for Warren.

“Should’ve figured. A guy as smart as you knows not to carry that much cash around, huh?”

Luigi let out an audible whimper. Scattered laughter rippled through the nameless three before Warren continued. “I’m sure you won’t mind accompanying us to the nearest ATM? Get me my cash back, plus a bit of interest for all the trouble you’ve caused. Sound fair?”

Luigi felt something ice cold and agonizingly sharp pressing up against the side of his neck. He couldn’t see it, his hat was still held firmly over his eyes, but he had a guess about what it was. Message received: this was not a discussion.

“Sounds f-fair.”

And with that, a half-dozen hands laid hold of him and yanked him to his feet. Once more he was dragged away, ushered hurriedly through the lighted subway tunnels and up the stairwell to the city streets above. For a moment, Luigi felt a glimmer of hope that he might encounter a police officer on patrol, or find some opportunity to break away from his captors in a crowded location, where they wouldn’t dare attack him so boldly or make good on that knife’s silent threat. But it was still early morning, and though it was the city that never slept there were small dingy back alleys that wasted away in uneasy slumber, where any desperate screams would be met with turned heads and shuttered windows.

___

By twelfth grade, Mario had better control of his impulses, no longer jumping fences, climbing scaffolding or starting fights, no matter how noble the reasons. If he or Luigi suffered a particularly cruel offense settling the score was reserved for outside of school property, where fewer and fewer had the gall to actually face Mario man-to-man. As much as he looked like a thirteen year old with a mustache, he hit like an oncoming train, and did not know when to back down.

Given his behavioral record and mediocre grades, Mario’s batting average had been his best hope for getting into college, but in truth he had no interest in it. A scholarship was beyond his grasp, and coming from a blue collar family he felt he belonged there, and was excited to take part.

He liked working with his hands. He like working with people, staying active and solving problems. He didn’t want to be the brains behind any operation, he wanted to be on site doing the heavy lifting. It was no mystery to anyone what trade most captured his interest. Mario was already tearing through instruction videos and old manuals about waterworks and pipe repair. It had reached a point that family and neighbors didn’t even need to call in a professional whenever the toilet got stopped up or the bathroom sink sprung a link. He seemed to have a real knack for plumbing, and every time, Luigi was there to hand him whatever tools he needed.

“There’s a new business that just opened up.” Uncle Arthur said one night at the dinner table. He slid two bright blue business cards across the table toward Mario and Luigi that sported a “Wrecking Crew” logo and a phone number. “They specialize in small-scale demolition, but they do construction too. They’re in dire need of workers, so I don’t think they'll think twice if you ask to apprentice under whatever plumbers they’ve got on hand. Keep at it, and after you two get licensed and rise in the ranks, you can make up to eighty grand annually.”

“Now hold on, we all know what Mario's big life goals are. What about this guy?” Uncle Tony chimed in, elbowing Luigi so hard he nearly choked on his lasagna.

When Luigi recovered from a coughing fit, he found all the eyes of the dinner table upon him. He coughed a little longer to buy himself time to think, embarrassed to admit hadn’t seriously considered it. Of course, it had crossed his mind now and again. It was all anyone talked about at school: graduation and plans for the future. But Luigi did not care what he did for a living, just so long as it paid a decent wage and gave decent hours, allowing him time to do his chores and tend to his hobbies. He was not a man of wild goals or lofty aspirations, he simply wanted to earn his keep, live his life, and be with his brother.

“That’s good money!” Luigi agreed, picking up the business card and looking it over, “I’m interested if Mario’s interested.”

“Interested!? Ha! Just wait Lu!” Mario exclaimed, talking with a mouth still half-full of salad in his excitement, “When we’re done, there won’t be a single slow drain or leaky pipe anywhere from Brooklyn to Queens!”

Luigi smiled wide. Mario’s adoration of what everyone else considered “mundane” was infectious. Where one saw a job, he always saw an opportunity to change the world for the better– to be a hero in what little ways he could. “I’ve got ya’!” Luigi exclaimed, reaching out for a fist bump that Mario eagerly returned, “Nobody stands a chance against The Super Mario Brothers!”

___

Behind a poorly lit gas station was an ATM machine, glowing gloomily just off from the alleyway that separated a derelict motel from a liquor store. Luigi was escorted into the presence of the screen’s eerie glow where bold white letters read PLEASE INSERT YOUR CARD across the smudged screen. He breathed a quivering sigh and tried to pull himself together, attempting to look on the bright side.

Easy come, easy go. For all he’d earned, it was only one night’s work. It was one very lucky night’s work, but he couldn’t expect that sort of good luck not to come with a retributive flash of bad luck to balance out the universe. Maybe he could keep just enough in his bank account to get his clothes fixed.

He reached into his vest for his debit card… … and his fingers slipped their way through a giant hole, where the seam at the bottom of the pocket had been ripped completely, no doubt the victim of the aggressive treatment his clothes received in the abandoned subway station.

He swallowed, and hoped with all his heart he misremembered. He checked his other vest pocket and his pants, growing more and more anxious as the men around him grew irritated.

“Looks like someone’s trying to buy himself some time.” Warren muttered with a tone in which Luigi could practically felt that blade being unsheathed.

“I’m not! My c-card! You… l must’ve dropped it!” He let out a stressed chuckle while keeping his eyes on the ATM screen.

PLEASE INSERT YOUR CARD 

His hands went back through his empty pockets a second time as he felt the four closing in. The world spun and blurred as he tried to figure out his next move and calculate the odds. What could he say? What could he do? What was the likelihood Warren would make good on his threat? How many people had been killed for less? How many had he killed for less?

“Luigi!”

At first, Luigi thought the voice was nothing more than his imagination, but his captors perked up and turned to the source of the sound, so Luigi could not help but turn too.

His heart leapt and dropped in a conflicted dance of excitement and terror. There, standing on the darkened street corner, was a very angry looking Mario.

#my writing #Buckle in this one's chock full of headcanons and flashbacks #very much leaning in to the all-but-established canon that Luigi thinks about his brother a lot when in peril #fanfic #mario fanfic #super mario bros #super mario brothers #gambler luigi #Luigi #Mario

[neopuppy]

Okay so we had step bro.. but.. what about step daddy Johnny? ;)

🪦

warnings. step-dad.. obviously, daddy kink. I am who I am🫤

Johnny’s not married to your mom anymore, they got divorced at the end of last year, but that doesn’t stop him from insisting that you still consider him a father figure.

“I know your mom’s really busy, I mean.. that business of hers ruined our relationship.” he says with a hint of frown tugging the corner of his lip down. “but I’ll always be here for you, anything you need sweetheart.”

that’s amazing, of course, but it’d be better if his hand on your knee hadn’t managed to cover the majority of your exposed thigh.

it’d be better if the first thought that came to your mind wasn’t needing to feel your step-father’s large hands elsewhere.

“Johnny?”

he smiles warmly, glancing back and forth between your questioning gaze and the road ahead. “what’s on your mind sweetie?”

“when you say anything I need..”

“I mean it, absolutely anything for you.”

it’s easier said than done to take advantage of your step-father’s sweet words. he’s too nice, too charming, too attractive, and way too perfect for you to ruin the trust he’s given you.

that’s why you decide to sneak out with Jaemin the next week.

Johnny had made you a copy of his house keys, entrusting that you’d only come over when you needed a place to get away. he hadn’t set rules about having a guest over, and he was out of town anyway..

“nice place..” Jaemin whistles, slowly spinning around to take in lavish furniture decorating the living room. the interior really did scream single ‘bachelor life’, one with enough money to hire a maid while still maintaining a humble image.

“my step-dad’s house..” you mumble, spreading out on the couch to signal you’re not up for small talk right now.

it’s sick, bringing him back here to fuck you in Johnny’s house. as if you can’t just sneak him through your bedroom window like you have many times before. there’s just something more thrilling about struggling to breathe under Jaemin’s burly figure, easily imagining your step-father sitting on the recliner across from you. his deep voice rumbling about how pretty you are, the actual one whispering into your ear overshadowed by your secret desires.

“what the hell is this?!” the sound of Johnny’s voice almost feels too real now, digging your nails into Jaemin’s back as he pulls away slipping out of you with a sheer look of terror consuming his features.

“shit!” Jaemin scurries to gather his discarded clothing. standing in defense with a palm held up, profusely apologizing to your step-dad who appears to be fuming near the living room entrance.

“Johnny?” You ask, half dazed and disappointed. Missing your oncoming climax because of the sudden interruption. Jaemin’s hopping on one foot struggling to put on a shoe before he can get the daylight knocked out of him. He hardly even spares you a wave goodbye before racing out of the door apologizing like a broken record as he passes your step-dad.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Johnny doesn’t care about the boy that managed to escape, more focused on your trembling figure attempting to cover your bare bits with a throw pillow.

“Nothing..”

The look that takes over your step-dad’s face next crushes through the center of your chest. He’s not angry, he’s not confused, he’s disappointed. More hurt than anything, eyes burn into you filled with betrayal paired with a frown that makes you shrivel into yourself.

“I’m sorry..”

The truth is, you’re not sorry. Not even when Johnny crumbles down to his knees with his forehead plastered to the couch. He looks more than tired, drained from traveling back and forth on the train to finalize some contracts, the last situation he’d imagine to find himself in being this.

“Daddy?” Your voice is soft and sweet, just like the airy light touch grazing the shell of his ear. A gentle but soothing reminder that you’re still innocent, naive enough to allow him to lead the way and train you to be a perfect doll.

Johnny blinks slowly, turning enough to take in your worried pout, a small crease formed between your eyebrows as you continue to stroke straight locks of hair behind his ear. He shifts just a bit, resting his cheek against your knee. The backs of his teeth grinding together from the heat radiating off your skin, the scent of your arousal between your thighs spinning up to his brain within seconds.

“I said I’m sorry..” you repeat, hunched over to scoop the back of his neck.

Johnny’s face lifts, his chin buried in your inner thigh, tilting his head in a way that would feel like mockery if not for how pathetically upset he still looks. “Are you?”

“What?”

“Are you really sorry, sweetie?” He’s more raspy than usual, having to speak for hours today, throat rumbling on your knee where he stays pressed. “Why would you do this to me? You know I’d do anything for you.”

“I know daddy, I wasn’t—“

Johnny sighs long and loud, shushing you as he grabs onto your calves to sit on his knees properly. His palms engulf enough of your legs to ignite a shiver up your spine, smoothing upward to your knees, he pushes your thighs open further; the pillow held against your figure as a shield doing extra work to keep your core concealed.

“..but would you do anything for me?”

“Of course I would!”

Johnny visibly swallows, his long fingers stretching up to dip into the soft skin lining your inner thighs. Silky and plush beneath his fingers that dip deeper as they get closer to where you still manage to stay hidden.

“Of course you would, you’d do anything for daddy, right baby girl?”

Johnny’s lengthy eyes fan up as he finishes asking, biting down on his lower lip when he catches sight of your lips parting open releasing a gasp.

“Daddy..”

“You really hurt me.” His forehead wrinkles, eyebrows twisted together as he puckers his lips. “I thought you had more respect for me than this.”

“I do!”

“You don’t.” Johnny snaps quickly, gripping your inner thighs roughly. “It’s my fault baby, I’ve been too nice, too lenient, but no more.”

“Wha—“

Johnny tugs your thighs closer, the pillow loosening from your hold unveiling your glistening center, a perfect close-up view that has him salivating instantly. “Daddy will teach you how good girls act, whether you like it or not.”

#anon #nct 127 hard hours #nct hard hours #nct smut #johnny hard hours

[arkangel9]

guys yk what TIME FOR PT 2

The boys unpack without much conversation. Varadha decides to look for a place to stash his suitcase. He notices to save space the dorm had a in wall storage area but the empty suitcase was still pretty bulky and he couldn't just quite manage to move it in

(guys like there's such a storage space in me home okay. its like on top of the bathroom wall theres like a square of space b/w the bathrooms roof(false ceiling kinda) and the actual roof so thats what im referring here haha)

He almost trips when the suitcase's weight pulls him back.

Whoa hey there easy . I'll help out.

The boy-Deva easily shoulders the case and throws it up with little exertion he reaches his hand for Varadha's 2nd suitcase before lugging it over in the same manner. Varadha felt a little embarrassed at showing such a weak side of him. He did go to the gym but from the lines of muscles he could see peeking out from the other man's shirt. He was no match. He grabs Deva's empty bags too since he felt useless standing there like a dame in distress.

He thanks Deva who returns his thanks with a smile before crashing onto the bed to scroll through his phone. Varadha grabs a set of his clothes before making his way to the bathroom. He hangs the clothes on a rack before throwing his dirty ones into the basket in the corner.

*ONE RELAXING SHOWER SCENE LATER*

Varadha walks out to find the other man had fallen asleep. He checked the time on his phone before gauging he had a solid 2 hours till the welcome ceremoney. He sets an alarm before dozing off himself

Rough hands shake him awake. He wakes, blinking blearily. He sits up rubbing sleep off his eyes. His eyes connect with Deva's who seemed panicked. His quizzical expression prompted the other man to tap his watch. He hurridly grabs his phone before seeing he overslept.

not by 30 mins

not by an hour or 2 either

but by A SOLID FUCKING 5 HOURS

He had arrived in the early morning and now the sun was setting outside. The other man looked sheepish and from his rumpled clothes and sleep lines still tracing his cheeks Varadha understood that he wasn't the only one to sleep so much, Both of them also probably missed lunch . They both look at each other, unwitting partners in crime.

Varadha's brain raced to find a solution that didn't involve the dean making a personal call to his dad and him ending up getting chewed out by his Akka.

Somebody knocks on the door. The 2 men hold their breaths.

FUCK

Varadha quickly signals Deva to lend his ear. The youth bends a little but not enough. Varadha catches ahold of his face pulling it closer before whispering.

'I'll pretend I'm deathly ill and you can pretend you were taking care of me . Hurry go hold up a thermometer to the bulb. Ill arrange the wet cloth. '

The knocks at the door increase and a voice shouts at them to open the door unless they wish to be expelled before they even set foot in the classrooms. The men rush to set the stage. Varadha rumples himself up before getting some warm water to splash himself to act as sweat. He pinches his face to redden and slaps a cold towel on his forehead. Deva climbs on a chair to reach the bulb to get the fake thermometer reading. He makes sure to not make it too high to make it believable. He sticks it in Varadha's mouth before running to open the door.

The Dean stands there looking unimpressed.

Where were the both of you earlier. ? This is an incredibly rude thing to do and THAT TOO ON YOUR FIRST DAY. DO YOU KNOW HOW THIS REFLECTS ON YOUR PUNCTUALITY. IF YOU CANT EVEN MAKE IT TO A SIMPLE CEREMONY HOW THE HELL SHOULD I EXPECT YOU TO MAKE IT TO A CLASS IN TIME. DO YOU THINK THE PROFESSORS WILL COME HERE AND PUT YOUR HEAD IN THEIR LAP AND TEACH YOU.

Varadha rolls his eyes at the school teacher style scolding and barely masks a laugh at the last lines. He looks at Deva through half lidded eyes. The boy was staring at the Dean with apologetic puppy eyes, a picture of remorse.

Varadha bursts into a violent fake coughing fit to remind Deva his lines. Both pairs of eyes focus on him. Deva's filled with genuine concern. The fit startles Deva into rattling off how ill his roommate was and how his heart didnt allow him to leave the coughing retching young man alone. Varadha punctuates every other sentence with oscar worthy coughs and moans out an apology in a voice that sounds like he just rolled out of a coffin.

The Dean seemed convinced. He stalks over to Varadha's bed . Varadha fears the game will be up but Deva shouts.

Sir I think he might be contagious and at your age Sir. Is there a need to take such a risk?

The Dean lurches away from Varadha before turning to face Deva

Don't repeat this.

He shoots a glare to both of them before leaving . Deva watched from the open doorway till the man leaves his sight. He closes the door and locks it before sliding down the door , body shaking with laughter. Varadha tosses the wet cloth and wipes off the water . He throws the towel at the other man who descends into another fit of giggles.

Varadha joins in

#salaar #prithviraj sukumaran #devaratha raisaar #varadeva #varadharaja mannar #prabhas

[jqhotchner]

love of my life

chapter four

time passed by quickly! before you knew it your eldest daughter was three and your youngest was two and a half. by that time you were on your third baby girl and harry second album was a success! he was still dealing with olivia, even though you knew he was about ready to tell his team to fuck off, he still did it to protect you and your girls.

you loved that harry would do anything to protect his family, even hiding your relationship and dating someone who clearly didn’t understand boundaries.

but you hated how stressed he was. you even offered to tell his fans about your relationship. harry knew you weren’t ready for the world to know about you and your family just yet. he continued to tell you that he could manage this.

and he did, for two more years after that. now, pregnant with twin girls this time, you thought it was time for you to let the world know who you are. harry was overwhelmed with his relationship with olivia and the pressure her team was putting on him for a proposal of some sort.

he wanted to be able to hold you and care for you, love you and kiss you, he wanted to be able to be your husband privately and publicly. and you wanted to be his wife just as much.

it’s why he knew exactly what he was gonna do. he didn’t let anyone, not even you, know his plan. currently he was home with his family. he had to prepare for the grammys! he was announcing his third album to the world tomorrow night.

harry’s stylist, and one of his best friends, had stopped by with plenty of outfits for him to try on.

your daughters all stared at their dad in awe. they still didn’t understand that their daddy was an international rockstar. but they loved watching him dress up.

“what do you think, babe? is it too flashy?” harry asked nervously.

“pwetty, daddy!” delilah states.

she was four now and had the height of her father. your mom swore she was gonna be over six foot tall by the time she reached eleven.

“you like it lilah?”

delilah nods her head, her youngest sibling leaning her head on top of her shoulder.

“what about you, princess? you like this outfit on daddy? or should i pick something else?”

maybelle was only five, but she was really into clothes and fashion the most. harry just knew she’d most likely be a supermodel or fashion designer when she got older.

“like this one, daddy. makes your eyes glow.” she points to the outfit.

harry hums. he grabs the outfit, runs to put it on, and comes back out.

“she’s right! you look fantastic, babe.” you state.

“i love it! and i might have to hire your daughter.” lloyd jokes.

“she’s our little fashion genius!”

harry picks up his eldest daughter as he kisses her cheek gently.

“daddy, going?” nova asked.

“not until tomorrow night. and ill be back home before you know it darling!” harry states.

“you’re still going with o?” lloyd knew how much olivia stressed harry out.

“um—yeah. i am.” he sighs. he didn’t really like discussing this around the kids, or around you. you tried to hide it but he knew you were upset by this dynamic! especially because it was only supposed to to last two years.

but he just couldn’t wait until the brits awards. that’s where his plan to tell the world about you and his family would play in action. tonight he just had to smile for the camera with olivia on his arms.

you were currently sitting in bed watching the grammys. you allowed the kids to stay up late to watch their dad preform. you knew they’d be cranky tomorrow morning, but you would just suffer through it.

“look, there’s daddy again!” you point to the tv. they were announcing best pop solo performance. when they called his name you and the kids clapped.

“daddy won!” maybelle cheers.

the four of you watched as he gave his speech before going back stage. you knew he wasn’t gonna stay any longer.

“alright, bedtime. daddy should be here soon. ill make sure he comes to kiss you goodnight.”

“kay, mama.” you got the kids ready for bed. heading to your bedroom and getting ready to sleep as well. you heard the front door open.

smiling, knowing harry would kiss the kids goodnight before anything.

when you finally felt his arms around you, you sighed softly. “proud of you grammy award winner.”

harry chuckles. “can’t believe it.” your turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck. “i can, you’re a rockstar! it was only a matter of time.”

harry kissed you gently. “couldn’t have done it without you.”

“what are you on about?”

harry kisses your neck. “i mean, the song was inspired by you after all.” he smirks against your skin.

“you’re nasty.”

“i just wanna taste it. watermelon sugar, high.”

“stop!”

“can i get a taste now, misses styles?”

“you’re tipsy aren’t you? you’re always a little horny when you’re buzzed.”

“just a little, but can you blame me though? i have the hottest fucking wife ever! especially when you’re pregnant with our kids. love you so much.” he kisses you passionately.

you just giggle as he continues to love on you. “gotta be quiet.” you hummed.

“tell yourself that. you’re the one that’s loud.”

you giggle once more as he picks up and and gently plop your body on your bed.

the next two weeks went by fast. harry had gone to england for the brits awards three nights ago. tonight was the night he would publicly announce to the world about his wife and his three, almost five, beautiful children.

he was nervous, yet excited. unfortunately olivas team pushed them to go to this award show together, despite harrys team thinking it’ll be best if he goes alone. but they couldn’t deny the attention they both got at the grammys. ultimately they agreed that it would be good press.

“you ready, babes?” olivia smiles.

harry refrained from rolling his eyes. he knew that this would embarrass her, big time! but he had to do this. for himself, for you, and for the kids. it was long overdue.

“lets get this over with.” harry sighs.

once they got to the red carpet, everyone cheered and yelled for them. harry kept his hands on the small of her back.

finally, when he was seated and the show went on, he enjoyed himself, drinking and laughing. when it was time to preform he did a fantastic job. he felt more confident and relaxed when he was home.

he loved preforming in the us, but nothing was like preforming in your own country!

when they announced his name for song of the year everyone whistled and cheered. harry got on stage and accepted his award.

“wow! this is a huge honor. id like to thank the fans for always being supportive and enjoying my music. id like to thank my mom for encouraging me to pursue my dream all those years ago. and most importantly id like to thank my wife, yn and our three beautiful daughters! thank you all. i love each and everyone of you.”

you were stunned when you watched his speech. you didn’t know what to do or say. part of you was nervous.

this was a huge deal for you and your family. this meant the world knew about you. and even from the years before, when they found your instagram, you still get people trying to add you.

now that they knew you were more than just harrys friend, the amount of people requesting to follow you will triple.

another part of you was relieved. finally being able to be free and love your husband openly felt amazing. no more sneaking off, no more looking over your shoulders, no more paying paparazzi off, no more stress. that thought made you feel amazing.

your phone kept going off but you couldn’t care less about that. until you saw harrys name pop up.

“i can’t believe that just happened.”

“are you upset?”

“im—no. im actually relieved, harry. i can finally be open with you. i can finally shout to the world im your wife, and—you can finally tell the world you’re my husband. baby, this is the best gift you’ve given me. besides our kids of course.”

harry sighs in relief.

“how’s jeff handling things? i take it he didn’t know either considering you had to take liva with you.”

“yeah, he’s a bit pissed but he’s also kinda happy i finally spilled the beans. he just wished i would have told him. how are you and the twins?”

“when you said my name they kicked.”

“really?!”

“mhm! i think they’re proud of their daddy.”

“well it’s been a long time coming. you all deserve the world. no more hiding.”

“no more hiding.”

anyone wanna be added to taglist lmk

taglist:

@harryspirate

#harry styles x black!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry smut #harry styles fake ig #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles #jqhotchner #love of my life jq