He's Fuckin Unkillable

Lance - we were robbed. Robbed of seeing this beautiful man raising a child. Sweets would be such a good dad too. Caring, affectionate, understanding, patient, hilarious, and with one disappointed look have his kids in line apologizing.

Oh, I could just imagine the first few weeks of sleepless nights. Lance, being so excited, but also so terrified of messing up. He knows what its like to have shitty people looking after you, and he'd never want to be that way. But he also knows what it's like to have two loving (amazing) people take care of him and love him with unconditional love.

This of course, would cause him to take the brunt of the middle of the night feedings/check-ins. Lance, sitting in a rocking chair, softly singing Coconut by Harry Nilsson. It's no surprise when the kid knows all the words before they know the alphabet fully.

Just, ugh, nothing but love and laughter.

Any child of Jack's will be showered with affection, over the top gifts (what do you mean a thousand dollar playhouse is too much? It has a fully functional kitchen and a mini lab!), and a love and appreciation for all the beautiful things around them (bugs and all).

"Whose my little prince/princess of the lab?"

Jack would realize his mistake during the preteen phase. "Honestly, I don't know where the sarcasm is coming from. They're too quick for their own good." This of course, would be met with eye rolls, and really? No DNA test needed here. King of the Lab? More like King of Sass.

Jack would love to take the kid(s) to the lab. "This is a Carabidae, they belong to the Adephaga." He'd love to see their little faces light up with wonder. He'd never feel more elated then hearing the little giggles when he puts the beetle into his kids tiny waiting hand.

Wendell would be the sweetest most down to Earth dad. No child of Wendell's would ever know what it means to struggle - not if he had anything to say about it. That doesn't mean his kids wouldn't know the meaning of hard work - that's the one thing Wendell prides himself in. Working hard and knowing you deserved to be there.

Considering his own mother induced labor on a roller coaster, I'm sure Wendell would be there for unconventional methods. His kids would also know how to defend themselves - verbal and physically (No one would ever talk down to his kids and get away with it. And boxers fracture? His kids would know how to throw a punch and mean it - "only if they deserve it, you can't just go around just starting fights with anybody."

His favorite memory would be the first time he took his kid(s) onto the rink. Seeing them persevere and keep going until they got the hang of it - "That's right, you got it!"

Wendell would raise his kids to be prepared for absolutely anything. Car broke down? They would know how to fix the engine. Someone broke their heart? Cry, feel it all, then take a deep breath and keep going. Because no matter what - he'll always be there to back them up.

Vincent would be a dotting dad. A little over the top, but that's why his kids would love him. Any child of Vincent's would know more random facts than any other five year old. The calls from the kindergarten teacher would always be...interesting. "Yes, yes, I can see why talking about the amount of insect legs found in chocolate would be upsetting to the other children."

That of course would not and could not stop him from prattling out more facts every night. Facts were his love language - his bonding time. Every night, without fail, he'd tuck his little one into bed, rambling about any random thought that popped into his head until his child fell asleep.

Colin, sweet morbid hopeless Colin. Would have no idea what to do with a child until one evening when he hasn't sleep for four days straight - he can barely see, his mind and body more fuzzy than normal.

He's looking hopelessly at his baby in his arms, "What? what do you need from me?" His voice growing more weary and desperate. Until he see's it, a smile - then a small gurgle that could be mistaken for laughter. "Oh, you like that, huh, my misery?" He's welcomed by another gurgle and big beautiful eyes blinking slowly back at him. He feels it then - the warmth- the happiness creeping up in his bones. He's got a shot now - at something he never thought about before.

Oh, his kid wants to paint his nails? Sure, he's always got the time, and maybe some tips, a little sloppy on the corner there. It's okay- you're only six we'll get you there, kid.

Colin would be the type of dad to always complain about being dragged to something, but he would secretly love it. Sappy teen movie playing in the background? No, he's not interested. He's just going to stand here for 30 minutes eyes glued to the screen. No, he doesn't want to sit down. Wait- rewind - what are they arguing about? He missed it.

Colin would have a little mini me - both the complete opposite of him and so similar it was scary. His little partner in crime.

Zack would like to think he knows exactly what he's doing but he has no idea. He buys every parenting book known to man. Spends hours of research looking up different child development theories.

No, the baby did not in fact laugh. It's only been a month, a baby can't laugh until at least 5 months. He states that firmly until the next few days when Zack swears up and down he made the baby laugh doing an impression of Hodgins. I know I said that, but perhaps the baby just has my intelligence and early development.

Zack will be there front row and center for every recital, game, or event. Doesn't matter if he has no idea what the rules are or what is going on. He'll be there cheering from the side lines.

His favorite afternoon snack to make? Macaroni and cheese.

Cuddling on the sofa of your apartment—a temporary home in this madness you call borderland, your limbs in a mess of tangle with his as you're sprawled atop of his body, his arm around you and the other behind his head.

Niragi was a constant wild child but moments like this makes you remember that even someone as wild as him needs normalcy in his life too—that at the end of the day, he is a human too.

His arm tightens around your figure for a brief moment before relaxing, the flex of his arm seems unintentional. “Acting like you don't know? Tsk.”

“I wouldn't know unless you tell me, Niragi.” It was amusing to watch his frown transform into a scowl, the evident shade of red, no matter how small, bright on his ears as he glare at you.

It is quite adorable, ever so tough and cocky bastard, Suguru Niragi who crawls from death every damn time is flustered underneath you. His bandages cannot even hide it.

Instead of responding right away though, his arm that was behind his head shifted to reach over your face, settling on your jaw as his stare is on level with yours—eyes steel and cold softening until his lips curved into a damn small grin.

“Like this.”

Rugged, rough, and dangerous is what everyone who would see him describes him.

Yet the way he places his kiss on your lips is tender, soft and gentle like he's afraid to taint you but his hand that's gripping your jaw is firm and commanding, telling you to stay still.

What was the look you were showing him? You could've asked and persisted but he swallows your every breath, the parting of your lips merely serving him an opportunity to kiss you further, deeper, more.

The arm that's around your body draws small scratches of patterns and shapes, a slow dance and kiss as he attempts to close the 'non existent' space between the two of you with the proximity you already share.

Hips slowly gyrating against yours in a slow motion, not to get you off, but to simply feel you and your warmth.

For someone as lust driven and hungry as he is, just being with you was enough.

“Shit, you're so..” He couldn't finish his words, no, with how your taste left him speechless and the way your eyes flutter like a butterfly kissing your lids slightly open to look at him as he parts from your lips got him fixated on you.

You drive him mad.

And he's already insane enough.

He dives right back in when he felt you take a breath, the sweet sweet air you breathe in being taken right away, teeth grazing your lower lip, biting it to ask for your permission yet never waiting enough before he pushes his way through.

Every curve, every nook, he explored it like he's an adventurer on a quest—call him one because you are his world he is willing yo conquer.

Suguru Niragi is both rough yet gentle, tough yet soft, it is only you who get to see his vulnerability. “It seems last night wasn't enough for ya', pretty?” He murmurs through the kiss, sending vibrations through mouth as a small chuckle escapes his lips, once again capturing yours.

“I'll make sure you won't look at anyone the same damn way you're looking at me now.” It wasn't just a mere statement, but his tone sends a promise.

If it was merely an innocent kiss before, now wasn't.

It's aching, the core tht burns inside you as he pushes you into the pillow. The soft velvety pillows muffling the noises that you fail to contain with how he is moving. “Oh.. mhm, Niragi.. ”

It's like you're in a trance that you can't break.

Your wrist bound behind your back as Niragi uses it to his advantage, moving faster as he holds onto you. “Ya' like that, darlin'?” He drawls next to your ear when he leans, pressing a small chaste kiss on your shoulder, it was sweet, loving—

Until it switches back to him absolutely ravaging you like a madman.

“mhmm.. hah, y-yeahh..”

His hips repeatedly hitting yours, abusing the spot that he knows will make you see stars, knowing every damn well of your body.

The curve of your back, arched beautifully and every noise that breaks from your throat gets him going. Your legs are shaking from the intensity yet always lifted for him to take.

Niragi let's go of your wrist to take a hold of your neck, wishing to see your expression, “now why are ya' holdin' back your moans?”

The squelch squelch squelch is a repetitive melody to the room, hand twisting your neck so he can see what look you are making.

“There you are..” You could hear the smirk from his tone, lilt and amused upon seeing your face. Almost mockingly teasing until his lips finds the side of your mouth, “no one is here but us, scream all you want.”

“Wanna hear my name from your lips.”

Fast, deep, rough, then turning slow—after a thrust, his body gyrates and you can't help but follow after his. The stimulation is addictive. “Hah... Fuck, it feels damn good.”

His hand traces your body, fingers following the curve of your spine and to your ass where he palms the globe of it, feeling every inch of you and watching how his dick goes in and out of you.

The length of him pushing into you until your body flinches at the heat of the passion, squirming against him. Both trying to get away and push into him, asking for more, you don't know.

Maybe it was due to the heat of the moment that there's droplets kissing your skin, his sweat from the lovemaking—from how he's fucking you full, but something tells you that it's so much more. Your eyes, barely open and conscious glances at him briefly, until you couldn't with how he makes you close it by hitting the spot that brings you to heaven and back.

“Wanna see you look at me, like- hah.. like how you did earlier.”

“H-how exactly?” You still ask, small little droplets continues to touch your bare skin—tears of his love, vulnerability..

“Like I'm yours.”

Trust.