#‘my dad buys me whatever food i want at the grocery store.’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moa-broke-me · 1 year ago

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this is incredibly true, but let me add my own ideas real quick

Piper: Has no idea how much things cost. she is the epitome of that 'it's just a banana, Michael, what could it cost? ten dollars?' meme. she'll spill her coke on a genuine Valentino white bag and just get mildly upset because 'aw that's my favorite one :c' and not. like. MORTIFIED at how much it costs and how oh crap, it's ruined now. because it's fine, she can just buy another one. it's like she just can't see the price tag on anything, like she just mentally blocks it out

Percy: This guy, on the other hand, is constantly on the lookout for ways to save money. he'll call Annabeth up and ask her on a brunch date and she doesn't even need to ask if this is because he found a two for one coupon for Denny's in his mailbox yesterday, she already knows. he knows all the secret codes for free food at every restaurant, he has to fight the urge to shoplift whenever he's buying snacks at a gas station because hey, there's no cameras, there's no scanners at the door, why pass up free candy?

Annabeth: Messy. not like, 'a little dirty laundry on the floor' kind of messy, I mean 'can barely see the floor' kind of messy. she judges Percy for dirty socks and candy wrappers under the bed, meanwhile she hasn't emptied the garbage can beside her desk in two months. anytime anyone asks her about it she just shrugs and says 'executive dysfunction is a bitch' and like... yeah actually, that's fair. but still, get it together girl (lowkey projecting on this one ngl)

Hazel: always overdressed. for everything. it's not, like, out of a desire to make her friends self conscious or anything (although that does happen), it's just those pre-second wave values of 'women are always supposed to be pretty so you have to dress up every time you go out in public'. she NEEDS to be the hottest person at the grocery store. she'll put on a full face of makeup and a pearl necklace and Frank will ask her where she's going and she shrugs like 'oh just the laundromat' it's the most frustrating thing. and the worst part? half the time, the outfits she picks aren't even seasonally appropriate. she's so used to Louisiana climate that she'll just. forget that winter exists. (I'm also projecting on this one a little)

Frank: This guy makes being Canadian a personality trait. he gets so mad at Percy for making New York his thing, meanwhile he responds to every insult with 'at least I have free healthcare'. it's a little bit less annoying than Percy's because aside from Frank, none of them have been in Canada for an extended period of time, so it doesn't come off as condescending. but that also means that he can just. make up whatever bullshit he wants about Canadian culture, and they have no choice but to believe him. at this point, everyone is convinced that these two have some kind of beef with each other and are using their respective hometowns as PVP, like a 'my dad could beat up your dad' kind of thing

Leo Valdez: He's the kind of guy to respond to everything with 'that's what she said'. he will moan into the speaker while you're on the phone with your mom. he will take powdered sugar and pretend to snort it like it's cocaine, just so it'll show up in the background of your snap story. and yet, if you're watching a movie with him, and a sex scene comes on, suddenly he's as innocent as can be. he's scandalized, he's flabbergasted, he doesn't know how to handle it. he has to leave the room and wait for you to come knock on the door and tell him it's over. and the next day, he'll go back to talking the talk, knowing full and damn well he can't walk the walk

Jason Grace: Jason Grace is a furry. everybody knows this. and anyone who rushes in to say 'oh no, Jason's not a furry' is a liar and a coward. But here's the thing; furries are cool. it's not that he's a furry that's the problem. No, the problem is that he, himself, is in denial of being a furry. he will fervently defend himself against the furry allegations, and lose. he is SO ASHAMED of being a furry that he trash-talks other furries and the whole furry subculture just so he doesn't have to admit to himself that he's a part of it! he doesn't wanna be! he wants to be a normal teenager SO BAD but the weirdness just keeps following him no matter how he tries. it's kind of sad, really

h.o.o. characters & their icks

characters: percy jackson, annabeth chase, jason grace, piper mclean, leo valdez, frank zhang, & hazel levesque

content warning: slight cursing

word count: 853

author's note: idk if some of these are necessarily icks? but 😆

percy jackson

percy thinks he’s sooooo cool for growing up in nyc 😒😒

he’d say some new york specific lingo and would be all like “oh hah sorry, i forgot you aren’t from new york.”

it is not that serious percy.

somehow he always finds ways to relate things back to new york. you could be talking about a weird homeless person outside a convenience store, and he’d be like “well i’ve seen worse in new york.”

percy lost his metrocard one time, but you guys needed to take the subway somewhere so he tried to act so nonchalant about hopping over the turnstiles.

“oh yeah, i do it all the time. i’m basically a pro.”

then, he went to jump over it only for his foot to get caught. he face planted onto the floor. when percy got up, he tried to act like he didn’t care, but you could see the embarrassment in his eyes.

not his best moment!

annabeth chase

in her own way, annabeth lowkey mansplains a lot 😭😭

she doesn’t mean to, but whenever she explains certain concepts or ideas, she comes off as super condescending.

it could be the most niche subject ever, and she’d be peeved when you don’t know anything about it. i’m sorry i don’t know shit about a random philosopher who died hundreds of years ago 😒

(i’d let annabeth mansplain to me any day of the year)

jason grace

if no one orders for him, jason’s go-to are chicken tenders and fries. it’s not that he’s picky, it’s just that he’s so accustomed to ordering it, that he simply forgets he can order other things.

it’s as if his eyes just ignore everything else on the menu and only look for chicken tenders and fries. like, it’s okay to eat something other than that… 😕

when he orders at restaurants, the waiter always gives him the strangest looks. because why is a 6’0 athletic-looking teenager in here ordering chicken tenders off the kids menu.

speaking of kids menus, jason treats the little activities on them so, so seriously. not to say that the activities aren’t fun, but he’s oddly obsessed over them. he gets genuinely upset when food or drink splatters gets on it because he likes taking them home?? jason please tell us why these little word searches and connect-the-dots matters so much to you.

piper mclean

piper always claims that animals love her. (they do not)

whenever she encounters wildlife, she’d start calling it over just for it to run away from her. “oh no, i think you scared it off” is her excuse 90% of the times.

i know for a fact it wasn’t me. it was definitely you and your bad excuse for a squirrel call.

she’s also convinced she can charmspeak animals too. last time she tried, the cat ended up smacking her across the face.

when will piper learn 💔

leo valdez

to all the leo lovers out there…i’m sorry to say that he’d have that little mustache after he drinks anything. he’s always rocking that milk mustache!!

after a long day of working in bunker 9, you’ll see him walking around camp with a bright red stain above his lip. you won’t even have to ask him to know that he was drinking fruit punch gatorade.

leo even gets that little stache with water?? it’s not as prevalent, but it’s definitely there. if he’s under the right lighting, you can see his top lip just glistening.

you always have to remind him to wipe his mouth after taking a sip of anything. but it’s just as worse when he wipes his mouth because he uses the back of his hand or his sleeve…

if you go through his closet, there’s a high chance that you’ll find some of his shirts with different colored stains at the bottom of the sleeves. someone get leo some napkins please!

frank zhang

whenever frank wears flipflops, his toes always hang over the edge of them. the worst part is that he really does not see an issue with it. he thinks it’s fine because “it’s just loungewear.”

yes it may just be loungewear, but i promise you that no one wants to see your toes hanging out like that.

even if someone buys him a bigger size, he’d still find a way to have his toes over the edge.

at this point, everyone just thinks that frank finds it comfortable so they don’t say anything anymore.

hazel levesque

hazel’s the type to enter those random instagram giveaways…

she’d tag you in the comments and would text you asking you if you could follow the account and tag five people too.

please hazel, you’re not gonna win that $300 amazon giftcard or that new laptop. give it up!!

somehow she finds so many different giveaways?? you’re always tagged at least once a week. it’s gotten to the point where she’s entered so many giveaways, that people start recognizing her username. they feel genuine pity for her because why is @horselover1217 entering a giveaway for the third time this week.

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im-a-shitpost-god · 1 year ago

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It's my dad's birthday today and for the first time in the 22 years I've been alive for I haven't wished him a nice day or another happy year. It made me feel really guilty of course, but I don't think he deserves it. Almost four whole months of not talking to him have gone by, and he has asked around about how I've been and what I've been doing. He's not been brave enough to ask me though. Four months and he hasn't asked why I don't speak to him either. I assume he thinks it's because I'm ungrateful and greedy, interested only in his money. It's hard when it's the only thing someone has to offer you and no matter how many times you try to explain and how you fade away over the years and how they stop knowing you completely. The worst is the extent you can pull yourself from someone's life without them trying to stop you or wanting to know why. So I haven't wished him a happy birthday and I feel horrible about it but I have enough self respect for myself to not do it.

Two weeks ago I got a bus ticket going to work, because I didn't have enough money to get one. I've had to miss doctor's appointments and reschedule therapy for weeks because I can't cover it and the guilt I feel for my mum having to go back and forth angry texting my dad to give her 30 pounds is worse than missing it. We've only been able to get groceries once the past three weeks because she can't cover it more often than that and I've been scrapping together dinners and lunches for work with whatever we would have on hand. I have debts I haven't been able to pay off in months and things I've needed for weeks I keep pushing off because I can bearely find enough money for food let alone stupid shit I can stretch without for a little while longer. The ammount of work one has to put into something as stupid as not starving lays heavy on my heart on the bus ride home from work. I stare out of the window as it's pouring outside, the window foggy from the heat of the bus and the people inside it. It's the only moment of my day I have enough time to consider how I'm feeling and I'm not feeling well. I feel like my heart's growing heavier with each year of my life and I yearn for the times where I worried about my friends and my grades and how other people saw me and how sad I would feel and I had enough time and friends and people around to worry about.

I digress, my dad's birthday is today and soon I'm suing him for aliments. It's not a pleasant thought and not a pleasant thing to do and not something I want to do at all if I had any other choices. I feel guilty for it, but even more guilty for my mum who is left arguing with my dad and worrying about how she will pay for our house bills. My dad seems like he doesn't have money to cover any of this, judging by how angry he gets about these things, or how he used to make me beg and plead for him to help me pay for groceries in uni. My sister, in the same position but with perhaps less quiet anger and pride bubbling up inside her broke off her silence after months to beg and plead. When she talks to me about what she has to say and do to get 40 pounds for petrol and a doctor's appointment I feel sick and all the more I feel my silence is okay. I am not like her and have never been like her. I'm not one to scream and yell and storm off and ignore someone for months out of anger. My anger always feels like it's brewing quietly for weeks, months and years before I get so fed up I up and leave. I don't ever explain why, to anybody. So, my dad has so much money. I grew up more well-off than any of my friends, never even looked at the prizes of things in stores, never wondered if we would go on holidays to someplace fancy and never wondered if I asked for something if my parents would decline. I had private tutors, expensive shoes and money-consuming hobbies. Dad didn't blink twice sending me off to America in highschool, spending enough money on it to buy a brand new car. So yeah, inviting me to his new house last year, staring at his imported from Britain wallpaper that cost more than my life had the past 6 months and at his designer fucking frigde that cost more than my life had in the past year and a half? The quiet rage kept growing and growing, every time he would yell at me asking where my money had gone studying abroad that month because food isn't that expensive and I have to be lying to him.

So, no happy birthday.

I feel like I am drowning in on myself, always have been that kind of person. I have suprisingly always been well-liked, well-known, like the kind of person that managed to be recognized by most people I passed. A smile always plastered on my face, teasing and talkative. Engaged into everyone I turned my attention to as if we were the best of friends. First time I walked away from someone was from my first friend group in highschool. They were all nice kids, way more quiet than me and consistent in their presence. But I've always been loud and a bit annoying and really too trusting and too honest. And I had like a fucked up situation happen there and I promise as selfish as I am, that was not my fault. I got semi-dropped but I earned back my way into that group and then fucked it all up again only a couple months after for this girl I was really in love with. My best friend had feelings for her and confessed all this shit to me when I was away in America and it obviously didn't go all that well. I dropped the poor girl before I left, but for some reason things between us always have been this way like a slow magnetic pull always. And so I tried to ditch her to save my friendship with this person I really loved and cared about. But then shit happened and I got pulled back in and then again stupidly promised I wouldn't see her because I loved my friend that much. Despite how earnest I was to do this I obviously didn't last all that long and two months passed and we were stuck at each other's hip again. Kept being blown off by my friends who seemed to have moved on from me to some extent and it hurt me a lot so I dropped them completely. I was depressed for months but moved on later, whatever. Similar thing with the next friends I made. I don't confront people about things. I quietly hope they will shake themselves and realise they are being assholes. So again, I wasn't treated the best. I pulled away. Some people would try to come back into my life but I wouldn't let them. Gave them a chance once, which they fucked up so badly I refrained from doing that ever again.

I used to be really trusting, overly so. People would take advantage as people do. I don't like to trust people now. I have friends but kept at arms length, ones I've known for years who I am not close enough with for them to fuck me over too bad. I have other friends, in countries I don't live in anymore, who I wish I got to see but can't. I am a really lonely person. I yearn to have people I can rely on but I also like to push people away. So when I'm on the bus staring out at the route I've taken since I was thirteen, so familiar to me, I wish I had someone close. I am not interested in surface level friends like I used to be. That came after losing the first real friends I had. I don't know. Many times I've found out my closest friends would call me annoying and too much behind closed doors. I can honestly see what they meant but the diluted version of me that exists now makes me sick to my stomach. I used to be just as happy and excited and loud as I used to be sad but it was a whole me. Now I feel like a fructured mess of nothing and nothing to offer and nothing to want or need. Last time I made friends was maybe three years ago and since then I'v e felt less and less like myself.

So, anyways, off topic a bit. Sometimes walking through a busy street, on a train getting home and in a pasta aisle of a grocery store I want to start screaming and not stop. Start sobbing my heart out and have people look at me weird and pull their children away and call the security. I want to finally break and do something so crazy that at least somebody will look at me. I just still feel like that about everything- like a slow slow light and gentle brewing anger, non-spilling and not hot. Just bearely there if you don't look at it right or close enough. I don't know. When I was younger I used to think that if I killed myself then at least people would notice. I don't think I was that far off

#rant post #personal rant #ranting #negative #kill me #thoughts

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dyzziiii · 2 years ago

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BIG and HUGE venting under the cut ignore if u know me irl pls lol. ill die of embarassment otherwise. thank u.

it gets harder and harder and harder to ignore that its beyond time for me to just stop trying to have a connection with my parents and that they will never be anything like the people i want them to be so much.

i don't know why my brain won't just grasp that this isn't fixable and they won't magically love me the way i want them to love me. they've had 30 years to try and I've run out of things to offer them as payment.

i go back and forth on this rollercoaster of grieving for them even though they're still alive, and then being hurt by them because i can't unpin my self esteem from how they treat me or ignore me.

deep down, it just feels so fucking hollow and soul-shattering to realize that the only people who were supposed to love me unconditionally never really got that attached to me. I'm a prop on their life journeys towards whatever fucked up selfish end they're after. When it came down to it, they both chose themselves over me.

My dad has all these stories he loves to get credit for about being a young, single dad working so hard just to take care of adorable, precious me, and how he would sometimes put back some non-essential groceries so I could get a comic book at the checkout line, and how he once made me a whole toddler-sized furniture set out of hand-me-downs and cardboard boxes because i wanted to live with him even though he didn't have a proper bedroom for me yet, and its like, yeah, I thought he was great too, but then everything changed when i was a preteen and teen and he let his new wife berate me nearly daily until my self-esteem was so low i wanted to die.

When I moved out at 16 because i was missing so much school from being stress sick all the time, I begged him to make it safe for me to come home, thinking that finally (after years of watching me break down at her emotional abuse) he would take me seriously-- or miss me, or want me around-- and then... he didn't. He never really tried. I never went home.

I ask myself some questions a lot that I'm terrified to get answers to:

How long before he stopped looking for me? When did things no longer seem out of place without me in his life? How many trips to the store before he stopped buying the snacks I liked? When was the first time he set the table and didn't have the urge to grab a third fork and knife? How many days before I wasn't an hourly thought? Daily? Weekly? i'm terrified it's a low number. Something in me knows it is.

He once told me (on accident) that things got easier after I moved out. He tried to walk it back but I already heard it and it wasn't a surprise.

Those classic cartoon episodes where someone does the "I wish I was never born!" thing and then they see that all their loved ones are miserable without them??? stupid.

And my mom, too! I gave up so much to take care of my mom as a kid. From age 7 onwards, I was her primary caretaker.

I knew all her medications by heart and went to nearly every blood draw, doctor's appointment, and ER visit. She'd tell people I was her angel. I was so proud to be that for her. She said she survived all the times doctors told us she'd die because she wanted to live to see her kids grow up. Sounds like such a sweet story.

I put hundreds of hours into gameboy games because I spent so much time doing nothing, by her side. Because she wanted me there, like how old people want a lap dog.

I thought she needed someone to do everything for and with her-- get her drinks, make her food, raise her son (6 yrs younger than me), be her therapist, give her demerol shots, entertain her addict friends, babysit their children, hang around disgusting houses full of terrifying men while she disappeared into back rooms to get just a little extra xanax to get her through the week, sang loud songs with my brother in the bathroom with the door locked so he might not hear my stepdad threatening to murder us again, clean the rat-infested house covered in dog shit and nicotine stains, stayed kind while she let most of our pets die horribly or decided she would rather sell them when we weren't home, held frozen food to her head while she had a seizure because we didn't have any ice, promised not to call 911 or else CPS would take my baby brother away forever, snuck out to the strawberry fields to steal enough to eat, accompanied her to graveyard shifts at the gas station and ran the registers so she could take hour-long smoke breaks, slept on a dirty, cigarette-burned mattress from the 80s that had old period stains from stepdad's older sister, carried our 1 lightbulb room to room when we had power, or unplugged the fridge so we could run the microwave when we didnt have power (for months at a time) and just had 1 small powerstrip running from the neighbor's house, staying up all night to herd her away from the toaster she kept jamming a knife into, locking her in her room by sitting up against the door all night and holding strong when she threw her broken body at it, gently bringing her out of her medication-twilight where she thought she was still in high school with her whole life ahead of her and having to watch her come to terms with being a permanently disabled ex-teen-mother living in severe poverty and domestic abuse and being an addict all over again and grieving her life together while she cries, dressing her when she'd wander the house high and naked... you know, normal sick-mom-caretaker-daughter stuff you do until you beg your dad to come get you one day at 4AM when you're 12 years old and ready to break, after which you swear to yourself you'll never stay there after dark ever again, and the decision haunts you because you wanted to be stronger for your baby brother but you know if you stay, you'll never pass 7th grade.

And then eventually, in my late 20s, she disowned me and my brother for (more or less) saving her life for the dozenth time. She doesn't even remember doing it because she was so gone, but for the first time since I was 12, I made her feel the impact of her choices and stopped seeing her in real life beyond the barest minimum. I stopped calling and only answered when I felt strong enough to keep her at arm's length. My brother moved away for a while.

I waited for her to miss me.... and to need me. She needed me, right? That's why I suffered so much for her. She needed me. I was her hero and she couldn't live without me, right?

Wrong. She never needed me. She just... moved on. Life went on. She apologized but hasn't tried to change anything about her lifestyle in the slightest. She won't manage her health. She won't stop seeing the people who give her the things that ruin her. All the things I thought I had to do to protect her and keep her alive were just conveniences for her. She quickly found other people to do those things for her. Someone else hears about her problems now. Someone else pays for her to stay in trashy motels to hide from her husband when he picks up the meth habit again or has a mental episode and turns scary. Someone else rides in the ambulance with her and lists off all her medications by heart.

A few years ago my stepdad called out of the blue and told me my mom was on a ton of xanax and pain pills and just kept begging him to go outside and yell for me. She thought I was a little kid, out playing in the yard, and she wanted me to come inside and sit with her because it was getting dark out. He wanted me to talk to her and tell her I was okay and I'd be home soon, so she would calm down and go to sleep, because she hadn't slept in days. She was crying so hard, scared for the little girl version of me who loved her and wasn't coming home. She needed me again. I wasn't there.

It's so fucking haunting. I'm still so angry he called me, and I replay it all the time in my head. She loved me (in a selfish, broken way) really deeply, but when it came down to it, she would rather have her addictions than me.

Sometimes it's like I have to mourn for the sweeter, softer versions of myself who died when I left these places. It's like I'm looking for them, too.

I should hate my parents but I miss them so fucking much.

But not really the them I've known, but just the them I thought they were, or that I made up in my head as a kid, maybe? The little snapshots of them when times weren't so bad all mashed together into what I wanted them to be? I don't know.

I want some better, kinder, less selfish version of them to love me and be proud of me and I want to feel whole in the way people can when their parents love and are proud of them.

its so STUPID. I shouldn't care. I'm an adult. I hate that I care!

Am i going to be like them? Forever locked into some selfish stupid pursuit of what I think my ideal life should be? Dad wanted a "normal" household with a wife and kid and dog and white picket fence and he got that in my stepmom and the baby they had when I was 15. Mom wanted to escape her chronic pain and live like the teenager she didn't get to finish being, and here she is, partying away her 50s in the most destructive way she can.

Is my version of that being a kid again and feeling safe and loved and creative? That's even worse, honestly. I want to grow up.

i gotta stop because ive been spiraling really bad yikes yikes.

shout out to my dad for deciding to visit and critique every aspect of my life, and my mom for sadtexting me how she misses me while actively ignoring my calls because she can't stay sober for logner than a few days at a time

#personal #vent #scream #sad #seriously pls do not read if u know me for real

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rjalker · 2 years ago

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February 12th 2023: don't donate until this part is removed! someone stole my fucking wallet.

I'm making this my pinned post because I am tired of suffering.

Here's the link to my actual About post. Read it if you're going to follow me, it has my DNI as well as tags I use for things so you can blacklist them if you want/need to.

====

Hi I'm fucking too disabled to work but have to get a fucking lawyer to get fucking disability SSI from the stupid fucking government because it's literally designed to make people give up before they get their gods damned money.

I literally don't even eat even a single meal each day.

I'm also trans and would like to fucking medically transition someday but at this point I've just fucking give up that hope because I will literally never be able to afford it unless capitalism gets smashed tomorrow. in which case none of this matters, but that's not going to happen because that's not how revolution works so fucking anyways

also we're out of ibuprophen and I have fucking menstrual cramps right and yeah I should probably get fucking tested for endomitroiosis or whatever the fuck it's called but you know what else I don't have? Health insurance. Because I'm too disabled to work, and even if I could work literlaly no one will give me a full time job that wouldn't literaly just end up killing me.

====

Here's the gofundme link.

My paypal, venmo, and cashapp are all "Rjalker".

Here's the link to my redbubble store if you'd rather buy something.

You can also tip me through tumblr.

====

I have the Redbubble prices set so that when you buy a product I actually get a decent cut instead of $2 max. If you buy a pin, for example, I get $9.

My paypal icon is the same flower design as my tumblr icon. I don't think cashapp and venmo have icons but if they do I'll make sure they're the same too.

Check out and request more pronoun pins on my sideblog @custom-pronoun-pins

This post is being made November 30th 2022 but unless they suddenly invent No Longer Disabled pills it's just not going to have a fucking "this is no longer relevant" date because this shit isn't going to get better.

Here's what your money will be going towards if you donate:

rent, $500 a month for my half

phone bill, $35 a month

water bill, around $35 a month

internet bill , $45 a month

cat food, cat litter, and vet visits

groceries

clothes

fixing the washer or just buying a new one

fixing the dryer or just buying a new one

all the fantasy and scifi books I'm going to write that I will literally be giving away for free because if it's not clear enough yet I fucking hate capitalism. You will be able to download the books for free endlessly and the only time you'll have to pay money is for the cost of the materials to make the physical book.

we literally have not had a functional washer or dryer for the last like five fucking years in a row. All our clothes have to be washed in the fucking tub and then hung up in front of a fan to dry, or put in the fucking pop-up air dryer we found that takes for fucking ever and can't hold more than a few things before it stops working almost entirely.

I'm making this my pinned post because I'm tired of suffering. I'll fucking put the other one back when capitalism ends or I get the fucking disability SSI I literally would have been getting from birth except for the fucking idiot in the government who decided to fucking remove us from the fucking disability list when we turned eighteen when they took us off the fucking survivor's benefits of our fucking dad dying.

No I am not fucking joking. My twin and I were literally born four months early. We were literally guaranteed disability SSI from the moment we were born because of all the shit that went wrong and the fact that both of us were blatantly fucking autistic and had dyslexia and all this other shit.

And some fucking government worker fucked up when we turned eighteen and not only took us off the fucking survivor's benefits SSI, which overrode the disability SSI, but also fucking took us off the list for the disabled SSI.

Literally assigned abled at eighteen.

And I still haven't even fucking been diagnosed with anything for my physical disability because again! No health insurance! Because I can't work! Because I'm disabled! And since I can't work I can't get my disability diagnosed! Which means I can't get accommodations! It's literally a fucking endless cycle that will only stop if I or capitalism die!!!

======

Update 12/11/22: The water bill for November has been paid! Thank you!

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wrenreid · 2 years ago

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Off Limits

content warning: mention of alcohol

Part Three

I wake up to the sound of my little brother talking too loud, his high pitched voice sounding excited. I roll out of my bed, my feet touching the cold hardwood floor. With a weird little dance to keep my feet off the floor as much as I can, I get to my slippers and step into them.

I trudge to the my bathroom and brush the morning breath out of my mouth. After glancing at my unruly brown hair, I brush it out. Partying and sleeping hard last night made my long strands tangled.

As I half walk- half jog down the stairs, I hear more of why Jack is doing his happy squeals. From what I make out, there’s breakfast in the kitchen. One of his favorites I presume. Which means it’s either waffles or donuts. The kid loves sugar.

The cool air of the AC hits my bare legs as I make my way to join in on the food. The blue pjs I changed into last night consist of a soft short sleeve button up and shorts that reach just below my ass.

I’d almost forgotten Spencer was here until I walked into the kitchen to see him pouring a glass of orange juice. He sets the cup down in front of Jack then looks up to me with a soft smile.

He’s dressed in a light weight, cozy looking sweater, nice pants, and worn out black converse. His boy-band style waves I teased him about last night looks charmingly messy on top of his head.

A soft smile spreads across my lips at the sight of him. The way he interacts with my little brother makes me happy. He genuinely likes watching after him.

—————

When Jade walks into the kitchen, I pretend not to notice her clothes. She’s just in pajamas, but the shortness of her shorts catches me a little by surprise.

“Good morning,” I say with a friendly smile, giving her an awkward wave that I regret as soon as my hand’s in the air.

“‘Morning, doc,” she says before making her way to Jack. She plants a kiss to his head before stealing a donut from his plate.

The small boy protests, shooting her a dirty look while he whines. “Mean!”

Jade ruffles her brother’s hair with a devilish chuckle.

I grab the box of donuts I had bought just half an hour before. Jack had happily gone with me, and I let him pick out his favorites. “There’s enough for all of us,” I say with a soft grin.

Jade opens the box after shooting me a grateful smile. She and Jack both grab another.

“Thank you,” she says, looking to me as she heads to the cabinet to grab a cup for her juice.

“No problem,” I tell her before sitting down next to her brother and eating a donut for myself. Chocolate sprinkles are my favorite, and it seems like she likes them too since that’s what she grabbed as well.

Jade pours two cups of coffee and grabs cream and sugar. She sits next to me and slides a cup of coffee to me.

I was too busy getting Jack situated to get myself the coffee I’d started brewing ten minutes ago.

“Thank you.” I grab the container of sugar and pour in about four spoonfuls into my coffee.

Jade raises her eyebrows, looking at my mug. “Want a little coffee with your sugar?”

I glance over to her. “Says the one who just poured a cup of creamer into hers.”

“It was not a cup!” She laughs softly, rolling her eyes. “It’s still brown, thank you.”

A soft chuckle releases from my lips. “Whatever.”

Jade grins teasingly at me, and we finish our breakfast.

“Can we watch Spider-Man?” Jack asks, hopping down from his chair.

“Sure, buddy,” I say with a soft smile, following him to the living room. I turn the tv on and sit next to him after finding the Spider-Man cartoon he requested.

Jade follows after us after a moment, sitting on the chair she was in last night when we stayed up talking. She gives me a soft smile as she sees how happy Jack is this morning.

—————

Jack, me, and Dr. Reid- wait, Spencer, watch cartoons most of the day until I decide to be a good daughter/ big sister and go to the grocery store. Dad has a habit of ordering takeout too much instead of buying groceries and cooking.

“You’ll be okay here with him?” I ask Spencer, knowing the answer. He’s good with him.

“Yes,” he says assuringly. “I’ll make some lunch with whatever I can find.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle softly. “Dad’s notorious for an empty fridge. Aunt Jessica usually does the grocery shopping and cooking.”

“I can’t judge,” Spencer tells me. “I hardly go grocery shopping either. It’s hard when you’re in and out all the time.”

“I guess I could understand that,” I say. I’m dressed in ripped jeans and a cute long sleeve top now, my keys in my hands. “Hey, since you’ll be here for a while is there anything specific you want me to get?”

Spencer thinks for a moment. “Actually, could you get some popcorn? It’s a good late night snack.”

I chuckle softly. “It’s added to the list.”

While plopping the boxes of popcorn, butter and kettle corn since I’m not sure which one Spencer likes, into my shopping cart I turn around to see an old friend of mine.

Kailee smiles. “Jade, what’s up?”

“Oh, hey!” I shoot her a friendly grin back. “Just back in town for Spring Break. You?”

“Same. Actually, I’m throwing a party Friday at my sister’s house. You should come,” she tells me.

I think for a moment. “I don’t know if I should leave the babysitter alone with my brother.”

She frowns. “Boo.”

I think for another moment. Spencer made it clear he doesn’t mind watching after Jack, and he’s a responsible grown adult. And maybe Dad will be back by then. “On second thought, I think you can expect me there.”

Kailee gives me an excited grin. “Good! I’ll text you details later.” She goes back to her shopping, and I see a great selection of beer and tequila in her cart.

“You don’t have to cook dinner too, Spencer. I’ll do it,” I tell him as he starts getting some groceries out of he fridge.

“I don’t mind. I don’t get to cook a lot, but I enjoy doing it,” Spencer says in protest.

A sigh releases from my lips. He’s stubborn. So am I, but I’ll let it go this time. “Suit yourself, doc. If you need any help I’ll be upstairs with Jack.”

Spencer nods, and I leave him be in the kitchen.

Jack forces me to play with his action figures and even a game of hide and seek. I would let him hide for a while and not actually seek him, but I haven’t seen him since Christmas break and I don’t have the heart to be a rude big sister.

Spencer peeks into Jack’s bedroom, knocking on the door gently. “Dinner’s ready.”

My brother and aunt both look up at him excitedly. I think the smiles on our face shows we’re both starving. My eyes rake down his arms involuntarily. Spencer’s sleeves are pushed up to his elbows, the soft muscles on his forearms revealing themselves to me.

Jack’s hungry run out of the room snaps me out of my slightly inappropriate trance. I stand up, following Spencer who’s following Jack down the stairs.

We eat dinner together. Spencer cooked us pasta and garlic toast.

“I think you should cook for us every night. Dad’s specialty is Hamburger Helper,” I say as I wash off the dishes.

Spencer lets out a soft laugh from behind me.

I turn around, grinning at him.

I put Jack to bed sometime around 8:30. We call Dad too so he can talk to the both of us. He says he should be back Saturday afternoon, and hopefully he’ll be home the whole next week to spend time with me. With a kiss on Jack’s head, I head back downstairs.

Spencer’s on the couch, and I join him, sitting on the other end. “Hey,” I say with a soft smile.

“Hi,” he says back.

“I appreciate you cooking dinner,” I tell him.

“Don’t mention it,” he says.

“Dad said he’ll be back Saturday, so you’ll be released from the grasp of the Hotchners soon,” I say with a chuckle.

Spencer grins, shaking his head. He averts his attention back to the tv briefly. There’s boat on on deep blue water on the screen. “Did you know there were 319,093 boats sold last year?”

His words draw out a soft scoff-like laugh from me. “Why would I know that?”

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed.

“But it’s cool you do,” I tell him. “I’ve always been impressed with your random ass knowledge.”

A tight-lipped smile grows on his face.

“I remember one time when I was 16 we were taking about France for whatever reason, and you told me that the Eiffel tower can get a little taller in the summer because of thermal expansion,” I chuckle slightly.

“About 15cm taller,” he says with a faint smile. “You remember that?”

“I remembered basically anything you told me at that age,” I admit, my cheeks growing a little warmer.

If I didn’t know any better, I’d say his did too; they look pinker for a moment before he looks back to the tv screen.

“What happened to your leg? It looked like you were limping in the kitchen.”

“I got shot a few months ago,” Spencer says nonchalantly.

I give him a furrowed-eyebrows look. “What? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine now. It hurt for a while, but it didn’t completely shatter my knee cap, so it heeled quickly enough,” Spencer tells me.

“That’s good,” I say, it more like a question since it isn’t entirely good.

“But now I can tell people I got shot and seem badass,” he says with a chuckle.

I laugh with him. “Yeah you’re so badass,” I tease.

“Hey! I could be badass.”

“Could you though?”

“You’re not nice. What happened to the sweet Jade?” Spencer asks, hiding a slight grin.

“She went to college and grew up,” I joke.

“I think she did,” he says, looking to me.

For some reason, his words and his gaze sends slight chills down my back. I bite my lip, taking a breath. It’s my turn to avert my eyes to the tv.

My mind is wondering to places I’d rather not go to. Maybe teenage me is still in there somewhere, crushing on my father’s young employee. But I’m not a kid anymore, and I can’t be thinking about how attractive he looked with his sleeves pushed up earlier. Well, maybe it does no harm thinking about that as long as I don’t let it go any further. A mostly- innocent thought about a guy is no big deal.

We talk for a while longer until I finally head upstairs. He’s easy to talk to, and it’s refreshing having him here.

four

tags: @pauline5525mgg @theintimatewriter @lilibet261 @greysviolets @jazzymariexoxoc @one-sweet-gubler @thatsonezesty13 @necromaniackat @awhoreforspencerreid @sebs-oxygen @crynroom @scarredelirium @reid1nspiration @bts-sugaplum @awesomeness1679 @preciousbabypeter @yazzyu @cynbx <3

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outerbankies · 3 years ago

Text

new light part 11: just one night — rafe cameron

new light masterlist

summary: rafe finally gives his father the ultimatum he’s been sitting on for months; you immediately, if unknowingly, show him that it was one hundred percent worth it.

pairing: rafe x reader

warnings: swearing, alcohol, suggestive content/very VERY light smut not sure if u can even call it that but minors dni thanks

a/n: holy shit hiiiii!!! thanks for waiting on this one, and thanks to my moots who talked it through with me <3 alright, there will officially be 12 parts of new light, followed by an epilogue. so just one more after this! buckle up, enjoy, come talk to me afterrr

my writing

but if you give me just one night

Rafe gets one more kiss on the cheek from you before you leave him for the night. He’s walking you to your front door like he normally would, making sure you and your dog get inside safely, not turning and walking back to his truck until he hears you deadbolt the door. It’s the same but so different—nostalgic but still new again at the same time. It’s almost like the beginning of your relationship when you were getting to know each other all over again, becoming used to each other in a different way.

And it’s this weird place in between being back to what you once were, and hopefully carving out another new part of this relationship. Rafe couldn’t explain it if he tried—you had barely assured him at all verbally, but he almost feels like laughing once he gets back inside his truck, cheeks flushed from the cold and from you, smiling the whole way home, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel as he just breathes.

He realizes halfway home he has to circle back to the grocery store, where he’d completely abandoned his original plans once he ran into you, and you both literally dropped everything. He’s thankful for the sweatshirt and hat combination he’s sporting, not keen to interact with anyone he’d recognize that might ask him why he’s smiling the way he is.

“Sorry Wheez,” he apologizes upon his arrival at home, ruffling his youngest sister’s hair as he greets her in the kitchen. He tosses the box of hot chocolate packets she’d requested onto the counter, leaning up against it. “Got a little caught up.”

She looks up from her phone, considering him skeptically. “For over an hour?”

Rafe just shrugs. “Busy. It’s Thanksgiving this week, y’know. Lot of people buying a lot of food and… whatever.”

“Okay. Whatever. Do you want some?”

“Sure,” Rafe nods absent-mindedly, mind already miles away from the kitchen in which he stood.

The adrenaline of seeing you, getting to touch you and hold you again, was quickly shedding off of him in waves, shattering, cracking, and peeling until he’s barely anything more than an anxious mess with nothing to do but wait for you to be ready. Which he could do, he reminds himself.

“I’ll have one too, sweetie.”

His father’s voice immediately sets Rafe’s spine straight as a board, thoughts of you clearing and eyes shifting to the man standing in the entryway of the kitchen. Rafe doesn’t say anything in greeting, just nodding before glancing to the other end of the kitchen, ready to make his exit if—when—he needs to.

“Okay, so three mugs,” Wheezie murmurs, busying herself with pulling things out of the cabinets.

Things were always tense between Rafe and his dad, he can’t remember one moment recently where they hadn’t been—actually. But ever since his birthday, things had only been worse. You hung up on him and his hands shook with his next moves, typing in his dad’s contact to have the conversation he should’ve demanded months ago.

“Rafe, did you check in with Ezra like I asked?” Ward asks, the smile reserved for his sisters slipping off of his face in an instant once he addresses his son.

“Yes, sir. We wrapped up today for the holiday weekend.”

“You’re not working at all tomorrow?” Ward asks, looking surprised.

“No,” Rafe says, eyebrows furrowed, nerves coming to the surface. “Ezra said he cleared it with you, that the financial team was done today, ’til next Monday.”

“Huh,” Ward says in consideration. “Alright. If you feel like you’ve earned that.”

Rafe can feel Wheezie looking at the two of them, knows she’s picked up on the tone shift just like he has. Rafe almost sighs, concedes to logging some hours tomorrow. But then he thinks about you, what he told you, promised you. And himself. “I do. My department’s off tomorrow, dad. So I am too.”

But as much as he hates it sometimes, Rafe is his father’s son, because Ward doesn’t back down either. “Let me guess. Big plans with Y/n? Kelce’s dad told me about his uh—party?”

“It’s a bar crawl.”

“You’re taking Y/n to the bars?” he asks, sounding as if he’s barely holding back a laugh. Rafe doesn’t feel the same inclination to throw something at him like he would have a few months ago whenever his dad so much as mentioned your name, but it’s not exactly a terrible thing that there’s nothing within his immediate reach right now.

“Dad,” he warns, shooting him a look.

“Just seems a bit… beneath her.”

Rafe immediately heads for the doorway in which his father came, not stopping to look for confirmation. “I’ll meet you out on the deck.”

His father gives him about five minutes to pace the deck in contemplation, before appearing with a freshly poured finger of whiskey, one hand tucked into his pocket and an exasperated look on his face. “What now?”

“What now—dad,” Rafe starts, doing his best not to slip into son mode. He knows his father will be more receptive if Rafe treats this like business. He briefly contemplates an alternate reality, where he’s actively seeking out his father for advice on how to treat you right, not working overtime to protect you from him instead. But that’s a false reality his father had been chipping away at for years, until it was staring Rafe in the face over the summer. “I thought we understood each other, when we talked on my birthday?”

“Your birthday?” Ward asks, swirling his glass. “Ah, you mean when you called me after I sent you a nice bottle of champagne to berate me for looking out for you?”

“Look—looking out for me?”

“I’m just trying to get you to be realistic about this girl, son. She’s distracting you, and she doesn’t care how hard you work—”

“No. Stop,” Rafe says, willing his voice not to waver from the sheer frustration thrumming under his skin. “I told you to back off of her.”

“Huh,” Ward says, glint in his eye. “And yet I can’t seem to figure out why. Because it seems to be the consensus around town that you two aren’t really an item anymore.”

Rafe doesn’t let himself freeze, show any sign of trepidation or give any indication that he’d been caught out. He knew this was a possibility, your hometown was way too small sometimes. This self-preserving lie he’d kept up for so long—half out of his own assuredness you’d somehow find your way back to him, half out of the fear of the told-you-so look on his dad’s face, the one he’s getting right now—he knew it’d only stick for so long before he was found out. He feels his jaw twitch, but that’s all he gives before clearing his throat. “Yeah, well. Check your sources, then—just dropped her off.”

His father’s eyebrows unceremoniously shoot into his hairline, and Rafe feels the slightest sense of victory. “Really?”

“Really. But you know what? That wouldn’t even matter, dad,” he says. “I don’t care what happens—you can’t talk about her like that. Not in front of anyone, and not in front of me.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, son,” Ward says around a chuckle, bringing his drink to his lips again.

And then there’s this ugly, dark pit that had been settled in Rafe’s stomach since his sophomore year of college, when his father made him come home to work for him for the first time. And not just the minor tasks he’d been picking up since he was fifteen, or the ride alongs to construction sites he’d always loved as a kid. The first time he’d really had to work for his dad, be his son and his employee simultaneously. The first glimpse into what he’d always thought would be the rest of his life—what he’d warned you about that night on your roof when he asked you to be his. And he’d pushed the feeling about it down for as long as he could, ignoring the anxiety it’d cause him, the pure exhaustion and anguish it often left him with to work for his father.

Until he couldn’t anymore, on the night John B had pulled him aside at that stupid party to ask about you and Ward. When things had already been off between you two for weeks, and he could come up with no good reason as to why. Then you’d looked up at him through your tear-soaked lashes, wobbling lips and shaking voice repeating the words his father said to you. Everything clicked into place when he realized you’d internalized it, had been carrying those words around in your heart and in your head for weeks until you weren’t looking at Rafe the same way anymore, the way he’d finally gotten you to see him after all these years.

This is the first time he’s going to ever verbalize it, but this feeling had been pressing down on Rafe for years.

“You’re right,” Rafe says. “I can’t. All I can do is make it clear to you that this is a deal-breaker for me.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” he says, “She’s here to stay, alright? And I refuse to put her through the wringer with you. She’s smart, she’s kind, she’s so fucking good for me, and just so much more than think you she is—she’s the love of my life, dad. And I can’t be involved in the business like this if it’s hurting her. I actually won’t.”

“Won’t what?” Ward asks, looking thoroughly confused at this point.

“Work for you, dad,” Rafe finally admits, wishing he’d grabbed a whiskey too at this point. “She’s—Dad, that girl is everything to me, she always has been.”

“You’d quit the business for her?”

“If I had to put distance between the two of us, I would. And that’s the only way I can think to do it.” Rafe has to take a long breath to quell the tightness in his throat, staring up at the sky and blinking rapidly a few times before speaking again. “Not like there’s much else to our relationship.”

“Rafe, bud—”

“I love her, dad. And if you can’t respect that—well, I guess I should polish up my cover letter, shouldn’t I?”

Rafe swears he sees hurt flash across his father’s face, but it’s hardly an emotion he’s ever seen in him before, so he can’t be sure. And he’s straightening himself out and taking another pull of whiskey, steeling himself before Rafe can even get a read anyways. “Okay. And where will you go?”

“I have options,” Rafe says. This wasn’t how he expected this to go at all, and maybe the slightest glimmer of hope you’d given him at the pool, the tiniest way you’d let your guard down—just like he’d seen you do the first time at the start of the summer—maybe that’s what gives him the push. He thinks about the internships he’d withheld from his dad over the past few years, the resume he’d built, contacts in a network he’d made all on his own. Because maybe in the back of his mind he’d always known it’d end like this. Fuck, he’d even finally accept Beau’s LinkedIn request if he had to—because he knew he deserved better than this, and so did you. “Plenty.”

“This is exactly what I was afraid of, Rafe,” Ward sighs, pinching his brow in anguish. If Rafe hadn’t spent years and years trying to prove himself to this man, only to be met with empty praises or unimpressed write-offs, he might have it in him to be affected by the disappointment. “She’s pulling you away.”

“No,” Rafe says, voice raising in anger. “No, that was all you. Okay? Maybe she gave me a reason. But it’s always been like this between us—you can’t even try to deny that.”

Ward sighs again, polishing off the rest of his glass. “She must be some girl, Rafe.”

Rafe grunts in frustration. “Dad—don’t you like, with Rose? Wouldn’t you protect her from anything you had to?”

“Your little high school sweetheart is hardly comparable to my wife—your stepmother.”

“Maybe to you. But shouldn’t the fact I’m willing to go to these lengths… that should tell you something, dad. And if it doesn’t, I’m not sure what else we have to talk about.”

Rafe leaves his dad’s frozen figure on the deck then, waving his little sister off when she asks about the hot cocoa and taking the stairs to his room two steps at a time, trying not to think about what he just did.

—

mccall: ok everyone is wondering so i’m just gonna ask. have you talked to redacted

davis: i think what this bitch MEANT to ask was how are u doing bb!? how’s home!!!

delilah: no but like… wren is asking too

y/n: he just dropped me off

The group FaceTime call commences in seconds, much to your chagrin—although what could you have expected at this point? Your friends had absorbed Rafe into their orbit within minutes of meeting him, even if it took McCall a few shots to warm up, she came around too once she got to know him. Just how everyone always did around him.

“Hey,” Delilah says, her voice breaking through the mess of log-on sounds and cut off conversations first. She gives you a sympathetic smile. “How are you, Y/n/n?”

“No, don’t answer that yet,” McCall says, voice cutting through before she’s turning back to someone off-screen. “Give me a sec. Mom, it’s my friends. Ex-boyfriend stuff, very important.”

Wren peeks into Delilah’s frame then, readjusting his hair and then waving at the camera. “Hey, Y/n. What’s going on down south?”

You’re rushing to shut your door, glaring at Dylan’s disappointed look aimed at you from across the hall, turning on your fairy lights. “Not much, um. Kinda late here.”

“Okay, I’m here,” Davis announces, his line finally connecting too. “What did I miss?”

“No—wait,” McCall urges. “Cyrus, get the fuck out or I swear—okay. Okay, I’m ready. What did he do?”

“Who? Hometown?” Wren pipes up. “Y’all back together?”

“Oh my god, Wren,” Delilah sighs, giving you an apologetic look. “Babe, please go refill our drinks, yeah? I’ll catch you up after.”

“But—”

“Please.”

“Okay,” Davis starts, blotting a serum into his face once Wren walks off. “Everyone should just shut the fuck up. Let her speak, then we judge later. You saw Rafe?”

“Yeah, on accident,” you emphasize, looking at McCall’s little FaceTime square, her unimpressed expression doing nothing to put you at ease. “I swear, we just ran into each other. There aren't many places to be on this island, alright?”

“Okay, and then what? Wait—did you guys hook up? Did you yell at him, or—”

“McCall,” Davis warns, eyes straying away from his mirror to shoot her a look through the phone.

Delilah is the first one to pick up on your distress, shushing the others. “Hey, so what happened? Was it good?”

“We didn’t—we just talked,” you say. A smile pulls on your lips despite yourself. “Actually, it was nice. He took me to the pool.”

“Ah, good one,” Wren says, appearing in the frame once again, head burrowing into Delilah’s shoulder after he presses a kiss to her head.

“Not gonna lie, have to agree with Wren here,” Davis concedes, hand over his mouth as he grins. “That’s cute.”

“No, stop, you’re all way too romantic. It’s literally so fucking hard being the only earth sign in this friend group,” McCall sighs. “Focus, Y/n. What did he say?”

“Oh, god,” you sigh, falling back onto your bed finally. “Like—everything. We talked about everything. And I didn’t just—guys, you know I wouldn’t just let him off.”

“McCall made sure of that,” Davis grumbles.

“Excuse you.”

“Excuse you, I live there too. I had to listen to every single lecture,” Davis says, readjusting his skincare headband. “Every fucking one.”

You’d tuned the lectures out at a certain point, exchanging listening to McCall’s opinions about the terrors of long-distance and hometown boyfriends for your own fantasies about you and Rafe getting back together. You loved her, and she meant well—but she was scarred, and it definitely affected her judgment. Against her will, too, because you knew she liked Rafe deep down. Very deep down, in a place usually only unearthed by alcohol. “Alright. Guys, I appreciated this Socratic seminar. I think I’m just gonna sleep on it.”

“No, wait—we could put it to a vote,” Delilah says. “Two votes for Rafe.”

She doesn’t even glance at Wren when she says it, who just nods his head and brings his beer to his lips all the same.

“You guys,” you groan. “Come on.”

“Do I get a vote?”

“No, McCall. Because we all know what it is and you still won’t win,” Davis says.

“Alright, go easy on her guys. Make good choices. Good night, Y/n/n,” Wren says, making the decision for everyone else to leave you alone. He ducks out of the frame again after a wave.

“I’ll be off too, my sweet. You got this,” Delilah says, waving. “Text us!”

When it’s just your roommates left, an awkward silence drags until Davis clears his throat. “McCall, hang up.”

“What!” she squawks, mouth falling open in indignation. “I’m being helpful.”

“Nope.”

“Y/n,” she tries, directing her words toward you now. “You know I’m just worried about you.”

“I know, and thank you, really,” you say. “I’ll text you later, yeah?”

“Ugh, fine. Bye uglies,” she says, resigned as she hangs up.

“Talk to me,” Davis says when the two of you are finally, blessedly alone. “What are we thinking?”

You suck in a breath before you unload. “Davis, it was… like. I literally had to physically make myself walk away before I just jumped all over him, or—”

“Okay, that’s not necessarily bad, Y/n.”

“I know, it just means I trust him,” you admit, because it’s true. “I don’t know, though. It was weird—I just felt like I needed to give myself some time?”

Davis nods, squinting in consideration. “I think it’s good that you’re thinking it through. Your man is nothing if not charming—”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m kidding,” Davis concedes. “But also not. The pool? Come on. But look, he’s great, Y/n—you know I like him for you. And if you trust him, then I trust you. Even so, there’s still nothing wrong with taking some time. Maybe a few weeks while you guys finish out the semester?”

“Weeks?” you squeak, head rearing back from the screen.

“Okay, sorry,” he laughs. “Alright. What about at least a few days? After the holiday.”

“Days… plural. Yeah,” you nod, convincing yourself. “I guess I can think about that.”

“You don’t have to take any more time than you need to, you know that, right?” he says, voice softer. “You’re not an emotional thinker, Y/n. Trust your judgment.”

“I know,” you breathe, thinking of the way you’d felt seeing him. Everything had felt like it clicked into place immediately, but you had made him prove it to you anyways. And he had, ten times over. “I know.”

“But hey, what about the other stuff?”

“What do you mean?”

“You had some regrets too, didn’t you? I know you were beating yourself up over the thing with his dad. And the baby. Maybe you’ll feel better about all this if you tell him about that?” Davis says, lighting a candle in frame.

“Yeah, we talked about that too,” you confirm, nodding your head. “I think we’re okay there. He’s shit at accepting apologies, but—”

“Of course he is, he’s a man.”

“But, I think I got my point across. I hope I did.”

“Then what, my dear,” Davis says dramatically, finally finishing up his routine and giving you his full attention. “Are you waiting for?”

“I don’t know,” you groan.

“You’ll know when you’re done waiting,” he assures you. “It’ll feel right.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Davis sighs, smiling softly at you. “You’re not going to sleep at all tonight, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you agree. “I just wanna see him.”

“Go see him tomorrow,” Davis says.

You just look at him, smiling slightly. “I think I’ll be able to wait that long.”

“Bitch, you don’t even have to do that!” Davis says, clapping his hands. “There are no rules here—chug some chard and show up on his doorstep right now. It’ll be dramatic, and so, so romantic.”

You let yourself briefly consider it, shaking yourself out of it immediately after. “No, I—no. I’m too nervous. What am I even gonna say?”

“Okay, let me get some wine and then you can practice on me tonight. Grab a notepad.”

—

You’ve been sitting on the back deck since sunrise—maybe even a little before. It’s all a blur at this point, the sleep you got and didn’t get, the numerous scenarios you talked through with Davis until you couldn’t stand it anymore, the physical ache your body feels knowing Rafe is within your reach just down the road, all you wanted since August, and you’re not even being held by him.

The skyline of the town you grew up in, beautiful and familiar as it is, isn’t enough to distract you from your thoughts; if you overthought it, if you’re making him wait too long, if the way you feel like Rafe’s an ocean whose tide has always been pulling you in should scare you. Or if you should just run into it, arms and heart open, let him crash over you in waves.

“You’re up early,” your dad says from behind you, two mugs of coffee in hand. You shake your head and smile as you accept one from him, shaky hands settling around the warm ceramic as you bring it to rest in your lap.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“I know,” your dad chuckles. “Heard you stomping around all night. Thought Rafe might have been scaling the wall again.”

“That was one time,” you say around a smile. Rafe still has no idea your dad knew he was sneaking into the house all summer, and couldn’t care less considering he liked Rafe and you were both grown. Your dad had texted you the security camera footage the very next morning: ‘Might wanna tell your boyfriend if he isn’t going to hide his gigantic truck down the block anymore, he may as well start using the front door, too.’ You never shared it with Rafe because you knew he’d quite literally never come over again, and you were a teeny bit selfish.

Your heart sinks a little at the specific memory, Rafe showing up in the middle of the night. So worried about you—seeking your reassurances when you were the one that had been holding back. The first time your relationship was tested, and all it took to iron it out was you being openly vulnerable with your feelings for him.

You have to sideline the memory to give your dad your full attention—or as much of it as you can muster. “But I did see him yesterday, at the store.”

Your dad looks over from where he’d settled into a deck chair next to you. “Did you? That explains the stomping. And the fact that you came home with nothing.”

Your cheeks heat up, realizing for the first time he was right. You might have bid Rafe a good night quick enough that your family (sans Dylan, who texted you immediately to ask if that was Rafe’s truck he heard outside) didn’t see him on the porch, but you guess your dad was more attentive than you thought. “Yeah.”

“What’d you think? Need me to straighten him out for you?”

You roll your eyes, finally bringing your coffee up for a sip. You figure you can’t get any more nerve-y at this point, and you could use the extra energy as you tried to plan the rest of your day. “No, dad. It’s not like that.”

“I’m teasing, I’m teasing,” he says, a hand patting your forearm gingerly where it rests on the chair arm. “I know it’s not.”

“He’s not—he loves me, dad. I know he does,” you sigh, eyes welling up. “I don’t know why I’m holding back.”

“You’re protecting yourself. Maybe a little too much.”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking over at him. “Is that bad?”

“Not all the time,” he says, drinking his own coffee. “I’d rather you be too careful than not enough.”

Too careful. It’s something that you’d always been in so many different ways, but especially when it came to boys and love—when it came to Rafe Cameron.

It started with completely ignoring him whenever you couldn’t hide your feelings around him as a young teenager, no longer talking whenever he’d join a group, sitting as far away from him as possible in whatever classes you shared—even though you’d somehow always get paired up anyways. And it evolved into this practiced indifference that came across as disinterest once you two got older, once Rafe seemed to discover girls and you boys, but never each other. Even though you always knew. Even though you couldn’t help the times you slipped up around him, looked at him too long or pushed a “just friends” boundary too far, and could now look back and recognize the moments when he couldn’t either. These random moments of longing that never amounted to anything, and then you ran far, far away from him.

But the distance and the lessened communication that came with college did nothing to help you shake him. Just like Rafe, you were always prying for information from your friends, or seeking him out at house parties during spring breaks, even if just to exchange greetings and a quick hug. It was just years of hiding, pining, running—until you couldn’t run anymore, until you didn’t want to.

And you realize, you still don’t. And you’ll never want to again.

“Okay,” you say, standing abruptly, handing your coffee off to your dad. He smiles up at you. “I’m gonna go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Where is this you’re going?” your mom says, making her way out to the patio as well, looking far too put together for this early in the morning. “Will you be back by lunch? You said you’d be home to help before tomorrow, remember? Speaking of—did you invite Rafe?”

“I’m going to see him,” you say, barely paying attention to your mom’s rambles until you hear his name. “Right now, actually.”

“Y/n,” your mother says, sounding slightly scandalized, taking in your attire. “Well not like that you’re not. At least run a brush through your hair, or put on a dress, sweetie—”

But you don’t care, can barely hear her, your messy hair and old embroidered college sweatshirt a mere afterthought as you made your way back into the house in search of your car keys.

“Relax, honey,” you hear your dad reassure her. “Rafe won’t care.”

—

If you could focus on anything besides how nervous you were, you might be the slightest bit regretful you hadn’t taken your mom’s advice. It was a rough night, and you could see it in your face as you sat parked outside of Tannyhill, the driving visor in your Range Rover flipped down so you could take in your appearance. Your best bet is to at least throw on some backup perfume and cherry chapstick from your center console, which you still don’t even do, forcing yourself out of the car as soon as you clock only Sarah and Rafe’s cars parked in the driveway. You really didn’t mind seeing Rose most of the time, but seeing Ward’s SUV in the driveway on the rare occasions Rafe would invite you over to Tannyhill was always enough to put you on edge, so you’re thankful when they’re nowhere to be found even at the early hour.

It’s not until you’re walking up the path to the front door that it dawns on you your realization moment had come nearly at the crack of dawn, the sun higher in the sky at this point but still low enough to paint it hues of pink and blue.

“Y/n?”

Your second thoughts about the early hour dispel at the sound of Sarah’s voice, and you’re waving at her lamely as she looks at you in disbelief. Ah, so Rafe had told her. “Hey, Sarah.”

“Uh, hey,” she says, breaking into a smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Rafe’s home, right?”

“Yeah, he’s home. Think he’s swimming though,” she says, making your eyes widen. “Don’t worry, inside. And Wheezie went to work with Rose.”

“Ah,” you say, nodding in understanding. You rock back onto the balls of your feet a bit awkwardly, hands clasped in front of you. “So, uh—how’s school? Did you end up rushing?”

“No,” she says, smiling. “My friend, Kie—she has this whole thing. Apparently sororities can be, like, wildly unethical?”

You nod, feeling yourself relax a little at the menial conversation. Sarah had always been great at talking your ear off whenever you came around, not that you minded. You always saw the effort Rafe put into connecting with Dylan, and you had no problem doing the same. “Well, I hope you’re still having fun.”

“Yeah,” she says, adjusting her bag in her arms, still smiling at you. “Are you here to like, talk to him… or—”

Sarah’s mischievous prying is thankfully cut off when the crunch of gravel distracts you both, signaling another vehicle pulling up in the driveway—the most disgusting brown van you’ve ever seen in your life.

Your unlikely partner in crime is waving from the driver’s seat to Sarah. But then John B sees you and he just points, a huge smile on his face. You have to refrain from laughing in disbelief, just smiling and pointing right back at him before you finally turn and make your way inside the house, patting a confused Sarah on the shoulder as you pass her by. “Have fun!”

The house is practically dead silent when you enter, the echo of the sound of the door clicking shut bouncing off of the walls.

The drive here and the walk-up was all fueled by pure adrenaline, surprise, fumes, sleep deprivation—who knows. Pretty much anything but the courage you actually needed.

Now you stand in Rafe’s foyer, only your insecurities standing between you and what you wanted. You blackout on the walk down the hall to the Camerons’ indoor pool—hardly the Olympic size Rafe was used to at Kildare Academy, but he said it did the job. If he wasn’t swimming in it during off-season, he was sneaking you and a group of friends in when his dad was out of town in high school—more often than not ignoring anyone else in the vicinity while he hovered around you.

But with so much time spent away you realize you no longer immediately associate Rafe’s home with the high school days—those memories replaced by the last summer you spent here. Intimidating dinners with his family, the random glass of wine with Rose every now and then, hangs with Kelce and Topper in the pool house, the times you’d crouched over the dining room table to help Wheezie with her practice SAT essays.

Rafe sneaking you upstairs to his room whenever he could, leading you out to the Druthers with a smile on his face, or the two of you quietly slipping down to the cellar near the basement to grab a bottle of wine before you went to sit on the porch swing and watch the sunset together. This version of Rafe that used to seem new, but was in actuality all too familiar.

You roll your neck and take one last shaky breath before you’re sliding the door to the pool room open.

He’s sitting on the side of the pool when you enter, chest heaving like he’d just finished a few laps, looking down at where his legs rest in the water. His hair is a wet mess, his goggles pulled up to his forehead. Rafe must not hear the door, because he makes no immediate move, stuck staring into the turquoise water until you clear your throat.

“Y/n/n?”

You’re both frozen for a second, until you speak again, realizing he was waiting for you to respond. “Rafe, hi.”

“W-what are you doing here?” he asks, his facial features slipping into worry once he assesses yours. “What’s wrong?”

“Can you—” you gesture wildly to where he’s still in the pool.

“Yeah,” he says, lifting himself over the edge. He grabs a towel resting over one of the chairs, running it quickly over his body and his hair, and part of you is just a little angry he’s shirtless and dripping wet while you’re trying to have this conversation with him—a conversation that requires judgment and focus. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking. A lot,” you start. “Since last night. I really didn’t sleep that much.”

“Okay,” he nods, hands on his hips. He runs the towel over his hair again, gesturing to one of the chaise lounges as he nears you. “Do you… wanna sit?”

You shake your head firmly. “No.”

He sighs, shoulders deflating. His hair is stuck up every which way, goggle impressions encircling his eyes. You know he only swims nowadays when he’s stressed. “Okay. Whenever you wanna—you look… you’re scaring me, sweetheart.“

“No,” you say, hopefully stopping that thought before he can even think it, shaking your hands out. “No, don’t be scared. I’m just, like, really trying to hype myself up a bit here.”

“No?” he asks, stepping closer to you. “Y/n, I know you needed time. And I don’t mind, I was even thinking… if you need it, we could wait ‘til the holidays? And then we can talk again. I mean, I’ll still be… yours and everything—“

You shake your head again. No more time, no more waiting.

“No, no more time. I don’t want any more time, Rafe. I want…” you trail off, a hand coming to cradle the side of his face, your thumb swiping under his eye and your other fingers tangled into his wet hair. Rafe holds his breath, eyes never straying from your own as you search his entire face. “I want you. Now. We’ve already waited so long, and—I love you, Rafe. And I knew you were struggling a-and I didn’t say anything because I was scared, and I didn’t want you to know that I knew you were freaking out—and I should’ve just fucking told you about the baby as soon as I found out—”

Rafe grabs your hand where it’s on his face, squeezing it lightly. “Y/n/n, hey. No that’s okay, really—”

“No, it’s not, Rafe. Because I was worried just like you were, and I wanted to keep all of the hard stuff away because finally letting myself fall in love with you was just like—it was so easy, Rafe. Like I always thought it would be since I was a kid. But I wasn’t ready for the hard parts,” you say, breathing heavily at this point, trying to ground yourself through your touch on his face. “I thought it’d be easier to just not deal with it, but then not having you—after I finally got you. That was the actual hard part.”

Rafe just nods. “I know.”

“So it’s gonna be hard sometimes, yeah? But we have to figure it out,” you say. “I wanna figure it out with you. Everything with your dad, and where we end up, all of it.”

“I know, me too.”

“But you have to—Rafe,” you say, your voice breaking. You can finally say it, what you bit back at the airport, what some part of you had always known. “You have to know you’re it for me, right? Like there’s nothing—there’s nobody else better for me, that can give me more or be what you think I need, there’s nobody, baby—it’s just you.”

“It’s me?”

“It’s you,” you breathe. “So you don’t get to just freak out and break up with me.”

“Fuck—I know, never. I mean it.”

“You know?”

“I know.”

“So, can you—”

“Gonna kiss you now, Y/l/n.”

And Rafe’s glancing between your eyes and your lips several times, then finally bringing you into the kiss you’d been aching for for weeks, neither of you paying any mind to the way his hair is dripping water onto your forehead, his wet swim trunks leaving a watermark on your sweatshirt and jeans where he has your hips pulled flush into his, one hand on your back and the other immediately in your hair. He pulls back after a while, practically gasping. “I love you. So fucking much.”

“Love you too,” you say, arms around his neck as you tug him back down. “Missed you.”

“Missed you. More,” he claims, pulling back long enough to look into your eyes. “And I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

“No more secrets, for real this time,” he says, a hand under your chin. He kisses you when you nod. “I’ll tell you everything later.”

“And Rafe, with your dad… I just really want you to be happy, okay?” you say, pulling back to stare into his eyes. “I don’t care if he doesn’t like us together. Figure it out however you need to, and I’ll be there for you.”

Rafe sighs, eyes slipping shut as he thinks for a second. “I know. I’m figuring that one out, Y/n/n. It’s not going to be easy, but… think I have my priorities in order now.”

“Me too,” you smile, so happy that your breakup is already something you’re talking about in past tense. You bite your lip, eyes flicking across his face before you venture on. “I want you to know that I haven’t watered your plant once, by the way. And it’s still alive and kicking.”

Rafe grins at that, all attempts to keep you dry completely gone as he finally pushes you back into the main part of the house, hands firm on your hips. “Well, I didn’t even open that essay you edited. Found an old draft and just turned it in. B minus.”

“Rafe, I would’ve gotten you an A,” you say, reaching up and kissing just his bottom lip. You swipe your thumb over it, grin matching his.

“I will buy you a new plant,” he says, hand sliding into the strands of hair at the nape of your neck, still attempting to kiss you, talk to you, and lead you through Tannyhill simultaneously. “Promise. And you should also know you and those stupid jeans ruined my favorite movie franchise for me.”

You laugh out loud at that, fading into giggles as Rafe pecks your cheeks and chin where you’re pressed up against the stair banister, making his way down your neck before he has to pull himself back. “Yeah? Haven’t been able to listen to that indie band you hate in weeks, Cameron.”

“Okay, I’m not apologizing for that one,” Rafe laughs, the sound resonating in your chest. “I did you a favor. Also, I kept finding your hair everywhere.”

“Mm, wait—kinda love that one,” you preen, a hand scratching lightly at his scalp. “Still mine?”

“Still yours. Always been yours, baby,” Rafe says, glint in his eye when he pulls back again. “You didn’t correct that waiter at dinner, in California, did you Y/n Cameron?”

You have to push him off of you just long enough to actually make it inside of his bedroom—which he obviously makes harder than it needs to be. And then it’s water dripping all over the floor, your shoes being kicked off, a flurry of your bodies trying to reconnect in every single way as your voices did the same.

“I know. And I kept your shirt after you left,” you practically whine, still flustered from his last confession, letting him strip you of your sweatshirt as he presses kisses down your neck.

“Knew it was missing. I thought you might have added it to the collection,” Rafe laughs, walking you back toward his unmade bed easily. Your skin sings at the familiar brush of his cotton sheets. “That has to be at least five at this point.”

You just look up at him where he’s still standing over you, smirk on your lips. “Well. Six, if you count high school.”

“Mine,” Rafe breathes, practically melting down into you, lips pressing into every accessible part of your skin, two fingers tugging one of your bra straps down and to the side when he runs out of room. “Always been mine, too, yeah?”

“Yes, Rafe, fuck,” you keen, feeling his hand finally slip to the button of your jeans. He pauses his work on your neck, leaning back to gauge a reaction from you before he continues.

“Can I?”

“Please,” you nod, nerves on fire as he finally drags your jeans down your legs, dropping them to the floor underneath him. It’s barely 7AM, you got here maybe ten minutes ago, and you know you must look a disheveled and over-tired mess by the time Rafe has you nearly bare and back in his bed again.

But your boy just looks down at you in wonder, one hand holding himself up as the other tries to find a place to settle on your body, finally resting on the side of your face, thumbing at your bottom lip. He leans down for a searing kiss, basically just two smiles pressing together when the lust momentarily wears off and you’re both just grinning idiots; Rafe pulls back just far enough to whisper something against your lips.

“Hi again, dream girl.”

—

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dreamcatcherrs · 4 years ago

Note

streamers finding out youre pregnant?

the mcyts reaction to finding out their s/o is pregnant

+ this is a reaction to if you had been wanting to get pregnant, and that you and the specific mcyt had been wanting this for a while. so only fluff, no angst :) I can do an angst version, though?

dream:

after you told him the amazing news his whole face just lit up

he’d lift you up in the air

and spin you around

would set you down and then give you a big fat kiss on the lips

“I’m gonna be a dad?”

you don't think you'd ever seen him that happy before

he’d tell everyone almost immediately

and would want to go out and buy a bunch of baby stuff

just to be ready

would shower with you in the bath tub

with, like, a specific bath bomb you'd mentioned before

and washes your hair for you

always has an eye on you

and doesn't want you lifting heavy stuff

ever

won't let you do anything that contains more work than lifting a finger

very protective over you

georgenotfound:

would be really surprised at first

just imagine the grin on his face

I mean, he would be smiling till his cheeks started aching

pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head

“this is crazy. I just…I can't wait.”

would make sure you go for walks together

because he says then your baby will learn the area quicker

and you explain that the baby can't actually see out of your stomach

but he just brushes it off

will rage eat with you

just buys a bunch of fast foods and eats if with you

whilst simultaneously making sure you're eating all of the right things

he literally has a list of foods you should eat

speaking of lists, he also has a list of names

boy and girl names

he’s just so excited to be a dad

sapnap:

“are you serious?”

would punch the air in happiness

and then hug you tightly

but not too tightly cause he'd be afraid to hurt the baby

even though there wasn't really a baby yet

would take so much care of you

you need a snickers bar?

he’ll buy every single candy in the world

your back is hurting?

he’ll be your personal massager

or he’ll get you one

he’ll take days off just to be with you and the growing baby

LOVES touching your belly bump once you get one

and will definitely be talking to it

and calling the baby “he” because he is so convinced that it's going to be a boy

he’s cute or whatevuh😩

badboyhalo:

“you’re pregnant?!”

immediately gets on his knees and rests his forehead against your stomach

“that’s my little baby in there... I can’t believe it, pumpkin.”

gives you kisses all over your face

he will always remind you of how beautiful you are

and how you have a natural glow to you now that you’re pregnant

and he tells you how much he loves you all the time

and that he’s so excited to have a baby with you

makes sure you’re fed all the time

because now there has to be enough for 2 people

also makes sure not to eat the things you can’t eat during the pregnancy

would do everything for you and always looks out for you

technoblade:

when you told him the happiest smile broke onto his face

techno is a softie when it comes to you

so having a baby?

he is gonna be the sweetest dad is all I can say

hugs you and kisses you

he’s just in awe that he’s gonna be a dad soon

treats you like royalty

even if you're just calling for him because you're hungry

he will stop his stream and be with you for the rest of the day

or for multiple days if that's what you need

he’s still his usual techno self

(and by that I mean he still takes care of you quietly)

but you do feel his stares on you sometimes when you're doing literally nothing

like, even just when you're standing up from the couch once you have a bigger bump

he’ll be ready to be by your side if you need help

afraid you'd fall

very soft (but that’s just a fact we all know)

wilbur soot:

“really? baby, that's great!”

like dream, he’d spin you around

and then gently place a hand on your stomach

and just smile at you

he’d always be smiling

and makes sure you're never uncomfy

would buy you a special soft pillow

so you’d sleep better

he’d almost always have a hand on your bump

or look at it from a distance

wilbur as a dad is just🥺

would probably want a little girl

so he could braid her hair

(even if it looks horrible)

but nonetheless he’s just so happy to be a dad

skeppy:

I could just imagine him screaming “are you serious?”

he would then grab your face in his hands and then just stare at you

until his eyes gazed down at your stomach

he would be panicking

because he didn't know what to do

at the grocery store he would've made a list of things to get you

and would be running around trying to find them

has his eyes on you at all costs

“don't lift that!”

“are you trying to slip and fall?!”

even if you were literally just walking to the fridge

is a little scared about the whole birth thing

but doesn't want to scare you as well

so he just pushes it to the back of his head

because how bad can it really be?

for him, at least

would want to do a gender reveal as a youtube video

but only if you wanted to

very dramatic

but very loving

karl jacobs:

he would have his hand over his mouth when you told him

then starts laughing

“we’re gonna be parents?”

he’s honestly just so speechless

cradles your head in his neck and just smiles

almost cries

almost

he’s gonna be such a great dad

I mean have you see him with tucker?

he’s just so cute (yes, I’m a karl simp)

will rub your feet

or your lower back

or wherever you need to get those muscles loosened up

can get kinda scared sometimes

about the whole dad thing

but feels a lot better after talking to you about it

just like he makes you feel better, you make him feel better as well

buys cute little socks literally 8 months before the due date

bc he thinks they’re cute

fundy:

his surprised expression would slowly turn into a smile

would mumble out something in dutch

before hugging you so tightly

like, you actually had to say you couldn’t breathe for him to let you go

“I’m sorry baby, I’m just so happy!”

buys a bunch of baby stuff… the day after you told him

he just can't wait

always holds your hand during doctor’s appointments

and makes sure you're seated or laying down comfortably

especially once your bump gets big

talks to the baby through your stomach

so they can recognise his voice once you've given birth

always makes sure you feel beautiful

by complimenting you every day

multiple times

because if anything you look more beautiful than ever

will brush your hair

and brush his fingers through your hair

makes sure you feel loved all the time

quackity:

panic

as in pre-parental panic

but quickly recovers and tells you how fucking great it is that you're gonna have a baby together

and that he just can't believe he’s gonna have an actual baby with you

you bet he’ll be looking up tips for being a dad

he wants to do everything perfectly

and tries his very best to be there for you

does all of the chores

and still makes time for you

you'd get worried about him overworking himself

but when you tried to help him

he’d just make you sit down again

“you're not doing any work. too dangerous for little q.”

you'd accomplished making him stop doing all the work by luring him over with cuddles

he’d get you any food you wanted

fast food, healthy food

whatever you wanted, as long as you're always full, he’s happy

punz:

“really? you're serious?”

mans’ smile is brighter than the sun

pulls your shirt up to kiss your stomach all over

and then rests his hands on your hips and kisses you gently

“you're gonna be the best mom, you know that?”

like dream, he gets very protective of you

won't even let you get something that you can't reach by an inch

never drinks any liquor or coffee while you’re pregnant

because he knows you can't

highkey really loves your big bump

and tells you all the time

as well as how sexy you are

and will stay up late until you fall asleep

especially on those nights where it seems unbearable for you to fall asleep

the two of you would paint the room for the baby together after the gender was revealed

and then buy furniture that matches the room

he’d suggest exercises you could do for pain relief he’d seen on the internet

and even do them with you if that’s what you wanted

anything to make you happy

awesamdude:

HE’S SO HAPPY OMG

would cry if he wasn't so fucking excited

squeezes your hand

while putting a hand on your stomach

he can't wait to see the growth

he wants you to feel absolutely no stress

because he can't imagine the amount of emotions you must already feel with your baby growing inside of you

so he does everything for you to avoid that

and if you do feel stressed he suggests cuddles

then yoga for pregnant women

and then more cuddles

cooks delicious food for you

and buys cute little outfits for the baby

and tiny little shoes🥺

eret:

picks you up right then and kisses you

all over the place

“holy fuck, y/n. this is just… I’m so fucking happy right now.”

does literally EVERYTHING for you

laundry? he’s got it

dinner? he’s got it

waking up early because you can't sleep and then massages your shoulders because he's an absolute sweetheart? yep, he’s got it

fucking loves everything about you being pregnant

but he’s sure you don't like it just as much

I mean, you're the one who’s carrying a literal baby

so he believes it gets pretty goddamn hard for you sometimes

and therefore takes many breaks from streaming

just to hang out with you

you’d go to baby furniture stores together

until you found the perfect things

feeds you loads of chocolate

or ice cream

whatever you want, really

he discovers that he fucking loves pregnancy

hope you enjoyed this! never written something like this before, but it got me all soft…

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iwadori · 4 years ago

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hmm how about grocery shopping trips ?? for some reason that is one of my favorite things to do it makes me feel like a grown up hchxnxn

When they take their child grocery shopping for the first time (Iwaizumi, Bokuto, Atsumu, Kuroo)

genre: possible angst, fluff

masterlist

AN: a trolley is a shopping cart. The part with Kuroo actually happened with me and my dad.

Iwaizumi: “Daddy, Daddy Look!” your child screeched at Iwaizumi, pointing at the big toy on the top shelf. Iwaizumi looked up at the high shelf, knowing that even if he were to buy your daughter that he definitely wouldn’t be able to reach it. “Sorry sweetheart, but your mum said not to get you any toys,” he said, giving your daughter a pitiful smile, laughing at the way she pouted and folded her arms which Iwaizumi thought looked just like you. “No fair! Mummy didn’t say that, you just said that because you can't reach” she complained “if Uncle Tooru was here, he’d get it for me, since Uncle Tooru get’s me everything.” Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at the mention of his tall best friend. “Well it seems none of us can reach, so I guess we’ll have to get it on another day when Uncle Tooru can get it for you.” He plops his daughter in the trolley and the exit the toy aisle, with him muting out his daughters constant complains on his short height.

Bokuto: “Daddy can I have something to eat?” your son asked, Bokuto as he pushes the trolley. “Sorry kiddo, can’t right now but after we finish shopping then before, gotta get the food quick before your mum goes crazy.” “But mummy lets me eat in the store,” he complained looking up at his father with his ‘pleading eyes,’ that Bokuto always go weak for “she lets you eat in the store?” Bokuto questioned, not really buying your kids story. “Yeah! She does, she’ll let me have some of the grapes out of the trolley...I don’t know why probably because kid’s get it for free?” Bokuto didn’t really believe it, but it seemed plausible that you would feed him on your shopping trips, so Bokuto decided to pick out whatever his son wanted on every aisle letting him open and eat whatever he wanted. However, it seemed Bokuto didn’t know that he had to pay for everything his son ate, so when you got the call from your 5 year old saying “Daddy got stopped for stealing!” explaining how his dad let him ‘eat whatever he wanted, just like you did.’ You facepalmed and drove to the supermarket, glaring at your husband as he gets released from the place he was being detained with a sheepish smile on his face.

Atsumu:”Are we going to Uncle Osamu’s restaurant?” your daughter asked him, feeling excited about the aspect of going to eat her Uncle’s onigiri. “Nope, we are going to the supermarket today instead,” he said. “But what about mummy? Why isn’t she coming,” “Your mum has work today so it’s just you and me doll, so you can be your mummy and your special job is making sure we have all the right foods. Okay?” his daughter beamed at being given a special role in the shopping, especially if it was being just like you. When they were shopping your daughter was taking the role seriously, picking and choosing all the items that you’d usually get anyways making Atsumu pretty shocked at how good her memory was. When Atsumu got to the bakery section, he was so excited to pick up everything he could see because it seems like whenever you went you didn’t get much cakes and things, so he wanted his hands on everything. However, after Atsumu picked up a triple chocolate fudge cake, it was quickly rejected out of the trolley by your daughter and she shook her head at her father and said “No chocolate cake allowed daddy,” “Says who!” he retorted, glaring at his daughter. “Mummy says that you’re not allowed too have any chocolate cake because Uncle Haji said that you need to be in tip top in shape for your volleyball games!” she said, nodding as if she agreed with her mum and Iwaizumi. “But Darling please,” he pleaded, “just a little chocolate,” she pulled a thinking face, before she said “i guess so, only if you let me have bubblegum ice cream after dinner” she bargained putting out her hand for her dad to shake. “But your mum said no ice cream after dinner…” he countered, but lost that thought when his daughter waved the chocolate cake in his face and he was sold. He rushed to the checkout and paid for the shopping, with him and his daughters with mischievous smirks on their face knowing what they secretly bought. However, their glory was soon outlived as when you walked in on them in the pantry shoving their faces with chocolate cake and blueberry ice cream.

Kuroo: “Daddy, I need the bathroom” his son asked pulling on his dad’s shoulder, they were standing in a long queue ready to go to checkout. He looked down at his son, and then back at the long queue they were in, wincing. “Can’t you hold it for a few more minutes, we’re nearly done and then after when we get home you pee to your hearts content” he tried to persuade, not wanting to lose his place in the line. His son shook his head saying “but I need to go now…” Kuroo sighed and got ready to leave the queue “I can go on my own! I know where it is,” his son assured, looking confident. “Are you sure? Theres no problem with me going with you.” “It’s no problem dad, i’m a big boy now” he flashed a smirk at his father which was a reflection of Kuroos “mummy lets me go on my own, whenever we go it’s just over there” he pointed to the bathroom which was in eye distance. Kuroo sighed again but gave his son permission to go telling him he’ll be in the line and if he’s done at checkout he’ll be waiting outside the bathroom. His son trotted off to the toilet and Kuroo eventually got to the front of the queue, finally being able to scan and pay for the shopping he brought. When he was done, he waited patiently outside of the bathroom, assuming that his son would’ve came out any time soon. But he wasn’t, 5 minutes passed and his son still wasn’t out at first Kuroo assumed “maybe he’s just taking a dump,” but then 10 minutes passed and Kuroo was in full blown panick mode, he tried to calm himself down and figure out something to do before he had to call you. He was about to go into the toilets until he heard “Kuroo Testurou, can you come to the front desk. Can we have a Kuroo Tetsurou at the front desk, we have your son with us.” Kuroo rushed to the front desk, nearly bursting out into tears seeing his son safe in the hands of a shop worker. “What happened to you?” he asked pulling his son in a hug “Um I couldn’t remember which checkout line you were in, so I went to the front office instead thats what mummy said to do if i get lost.” Kuroo didn’t really care, as long as he was safe, he put him into the trolley and went home, having to bribe his son £10 so that he wouldn’t tell you.

General taglist [bold can’t be tagged]: @saxuuxi, @iimoonii @hamdehlesmis @Shoyosupremacy, @iambashfulperson @kayleighbeccaa @dearkousei @bakugouswh0r3 @xedspirits @borpcorp @soft-angel-clouds @foxxtrot-116 @Xogiaaa, @jesssobs @apple-poptarts @galagcica @letssssus s @random-734 @rinyx @rybunie @cant-think-of-a-username @kuroohoeee @kellesvt @jojowantstocry @shinsouscatpisssmell @succulentmom @crystal-lilac@jihyunieeee @mysterystarz @flushphoria @tetsunarin @joyaphoria @elektrosonix @maizumis @fandomsgotmefucked @drageonix22 @uwu-queen-420 @crapimahuman @tesoromia @pelicanpizza @conchetucona @akaashis-wife @crystal-lilac @bokutoslittledoll @taroboba111 @asaitashi @arrogantsonofabiscuit @jihyuniepark @mariyeahh @mariyeahh @milktyama @pansexualproblemchild [join the taglist here]

AN: IM NOT FEELING THIS AT ALL, but what do ya think

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bbyheedeungie · 4 years ago

Text

Fluttering Machinery | Robot! Sunghoon AU

Genre: Fluff, mild angst

Pairings: Robot! Sunghoon x Reader

Warnings: Character death, little suggestive content

Synopsis: Sunghoon was a humanoid built by your father, with the sole purpose of taking care of you once he passes away. But it seems like taking care of you came with discovering emotions that wasn't necessary for cooking, cleaning, and keeping you safe. What is this warm fuzzy feeling that resonates deep inside Sunghoon's mechanism?

It's been months. 6 dreadful months since your father has passed away. The doctors have warned you that he didn't have much time left, but that didn't make the goodbyes hurt any less.

You were 4 years old when your mom left you and your father for another guy. A more successful guy. Your father was bright, with an insatiable hunger for discovery and invention. But his field of work didn't always bring food to the table. And so on most days you had to, well, compromise.

But you loved your father so much, and still do. Although you didn't grow up to be a scientist like him, you knew the basics on automation and robotics. You were 11 years old when you first saw it, the humanoid that he worked on for years came to life before your own very eyes.

He had no skin nor face that made him look human yet. Just a chunk of metal with a head, arms and legs that moved mechanically. Nevertheless, you will never forget the joy and pride in your fathers' face as he watched his creation. The humanoid was a work in progress and you knew one day he's going to change the world. Unbeknownst to you, he was going to change your world.

And now here you are, years into the present as you stood infront of the humanoid who had his eyes shut. Yep, he's a he now. He is Humanoid SH-1282. Your father made him for the purpose of serving the community, to help people. But when he discovered his illness, he started making alterations to his design. He made SH-1282 to serve as the perfect companion, but only to you.

He filled the humanoid's hard drive with everything that he'll need to help you and take care of you. He input cooking, cleaning, and even martial arts. You sighed, remembering your father's last words.

"I'm gonna leave him in your care now, err leave you in his care or whatever. Take good care of each other okay? I love you both so much."

You were such a crybaby, holding on to your father's arm as the nurses were ushering you to wait outside because the doctors are about to perform surgery.

"You'll be okay." Your father mouthed as he smiled knowingly in content.

You reach for the humanoid's neck to find the power button, finally deciding to activate him after holding it off for months.

You held your breath as his eyes open, immediately scanning his surroundings. His eyes land on you, a smile forms on his lips.

"Hi, I'm SH-1282. It's nice to finally meet you, Y/N." He said naturally, offering his hand. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was a normal boy.

You let out a shaky breath as you accept his hand. He frowns, it seems like he is studying your facial expression and posture.

"You seem like you are in distress. Are you alright?" He asks in concern.

"Yeah, I am." You reply weakly.

"Will a hug improve your mood?" He asks. He was programmed to know about the benefits of physical intimacy, but he was also programmed to know consent and so he will not do anything unless you want to.

You contemplated, biting your lip.

"No, thank you." He simply nods, stepping out of his charging port.

"Will you show me around the house?" He asks and you nod.

"Damn this feels so awkward." You think to yourself.

"So here's the living room." You say as SH-1282 takes a good look around the area, his eyes falling to the dirty coffee table with tons of papers stacked messily. The couch looked greasy, with breadcrumbs stuck to the sides of the couch cushions. He scrunches his nose, involuntarily adding a new emotion to his database: disgust.

And as you led him to the kitchen, this emotion intensifies as he sees the containers of Chinese takeouts and cup ramen littered around the counter. He walks to the fridge and finds it empty except for a carton of milk that you put into your cereal for breakfast.

This awakens another emotion for the humanoid, frustration. He pinches the bridge of his nose as he contemplates on what to do with the mess, aka you.

"This won't do. You have been living unhealthily which may reduce your chances of living a long life."

You scoff, "Excuse me?" He gives you a dead stare, an eyebrow raised.

"No, excuse me while I clean up all this. I'll leave you to your own devices, thank you for showing me around today." He says sassily as he goes to find where you hide your cleaning utensils. You stood there dumbfounded.

"Unbelievable." But you let him be anyway. He wasn't wrong, you've been a total mess this past few months but that was all because of the grief. You basically had no family now.

And so for the rest of the day, you lock yourself in your room and do homework. About 5pm, you hear a soft knock at your door.

"Hello, it's me. Can you spare me a minute? I have something to ask of you." You inwardly groan, not really wanting to face the humanoid.

"Can you accompany me to get groceries? I swear this will only happen one time. It is only because I am not yet accustomed to my location. But after I mentally note the directions, you won't have to come with me next time." He didn't really want to bother you, but he knew that going out by himself and getting lost will be much more bothersome for you.

"Sure thing, just let me change into— oh no, you have no other clothes. It's kinda chilly outside today." You mentally facepalm yourself. Why didn't I go shopping for men clothes first before activating him?

"That is fine, I am immune to any temperature." He says as-a-matter-of-fact. You roll your eyes.

"I know that but people will probably get suspicious to see a man walking around in a shirt and jeans when everybody else has coats on. We need you to fit in as much as possible."

You search for your father's old coat that you refused to throw away even months after he's passed.

"Sorry dad, but he kinda needs this right now." And so you dress the humanoid in your oversized university sweatshirt (which surprisingly fits him perfectly) and your father's old coat.

"How do I look? Will I fit in now?" He asks as he scans his appearance in the mirror.

"You look—" absolutely breathtaking. You had every urge to slap yourself. Your father really didn't play around when he made the humanoid's face. He could pass up as an idol. And the cute little mole on his nose was a good addition to his features that made him even more realistic.

"Great. People won't suspect a thing."

The two of you head out. Contrary to your expectations that he would marvel at everything he sees outside, he just casually looks around. You ride the bus together, and the humanoid processes everything that you do, noting how everything works.

What caught you by surprise though, is how he immediately stands up in instinct to let an old lady sit down in his place. He sure was programmed with manners and chivalry. You smiled at the thought.

You made your way inside the grocery store, only intended to grab a basket but the humanoid insisted on a push cart.

"We have so much to buy, I've taken a mental note of everything we'll need." You simply roll your eyes and let him push the cart around as you wandered behind him. You look around as he reads the nutritional facts of every single thing he sees.

"This is definitely going to take a while." You muttered.

"Y/N? Is that you?" A voice squealed. You hissed and attempted to turn away, pretending you didn't see her. The humanoid saw how you reacted and swiftly rushed to your side in a protective stance. The stranger eyes the humanoid, her eyes sparkling at the sight of such a gorgeous man.

"Why hello there. Y/N you didn't tell me you've been busy with your boyfriend, we haven't hung out in a while." Both of your eyes widened at the misunderstanding.

"Oh, no he's not— we aren't—" You tried to explain but she just laughed out loud.

"Look how flustered you are. You know what, it's okay. But we have a lot of catching up to do!" She said, squishing your cheeks in a playful manner.

"So what's your name, handsome stranger?" She asks, turning to the confused humanoid.

"I'm S—"

"Sunghoon! His name is Sunghoon." You blurted out. Sunghoon was the name of your childhood crush when you were like 7 but that'll have to do. Unfortunately, it seems that the humanoid got even more confused.

"I am Y/N's—"

"Neighbor. He lives next door to my apartment. I was just showing him around because he just recently moved into the city." You say quickly. She can't know that you're living with a guy. Even if said guy wasn't human.

"Awww how sweet of you to go shopping with your neighbor." She said, winking at you. She's definitely not convinced.

"I'm Yeonmi, Y/N's friend." She introduced, offering her hand to Sunghoon. He took her hand reluctantly.

"You mean my super obnoxious friend." You roll your eyes.

"Shut up, you love me." She teased. Admittedly, you've been avoiding her for months now. Ever since your father passed, it was as if you didn't want to deal with anyone anymore, with the fear of being left behind again. So you shut everyone out. You know it was a very selfish move and must've made everyone worry, but you have yet to figure out how to fix things back to how it is.

You said your goodbyes not without a long, tight hug from Yeonmi and Sunghoon noticed from his scanners how your vitals greatly improved from it. This made him feel another new emotion: relief. He was very thankful for your friend who made you feel better.

You continue venturing down the aisle of food, and you find the humanoid smiling to himself. He notices your attention on him and he shakes his head, as if shrugging his thoughts off.

"What?" You asked.

"You gave me a name. Although I'm unsure if it is necessary, thank you." He says genuinely as he smiles at you, your heart skipping a beat.

"You're welcome, Sunghoon." You smiled back.

He picked up lots of fruits and vegetables, with you whining the whole time. Your whines unlocked another emotion of his; annoyance.

"No wonder her father thought she is in need of taking care of, she acts like a child." He concludes, running his fingers through his hair as he lets you get an ice cream of your choice. Oddly, seeing a bright smile on your face as you show him what flavor you got seems to put him at ease.

The two of you got home at dawn, with quickly stacking up the groceries into the cabinets and fridge, with you slumping down on the now squeaky clean couch.

It had been quite a long day and you found yourself dozing off. You woke up from the light tap on your shoulder, eyes fixating on Sunghoon with your apron wrapped around his torso.

"I could get used to this." You thought, admiring how adorable the humanoid looked but quickly pushing the thoughts away.

"Sorry to wake you, it's time for dinner." He announces and you lazily nodded, not before yawning and stretching your arms.

"Uhh, what is this?" You asked, eyeing your plate.

"It's your dinner." He says nonchalantly, expecting you to start eating. Your face shows utter disgust at the plate of vegetables.

"Please don't make me eat that." You begged. Sunghoon rolls his eyes; a trait he adapted from spending just a day with you.

"Don't be dramatic, vegetables are good for you." He states, taking the plate from you and attempting to feed you.

"Come on, say ah." He says playfully. After realizing how much you acted like a child, he researched on how to take care of children and downloaded it into his database. You scrunch your nose, leaning away from the food and shooting him a glare.

"Sunghoon, I'm not a kid." You deadpanned.

"Oh, but you won't get your ice cream if you don't eat this." He says, pouting at you teasingly. He's really good at this. With a sigh, you open wide and allow him to feed you.

"Yep, definitely a kid." He thinks to himself as he smiles in satisfaction, another emotion unlocked.

That night, you decided to move his charging port (with his help) from the lab into the spare room of the apartment.

"You know, I'm completely okay with staying at the lab." He reasoned but you quickly hush him.

"Nope. That is no way to treat a person. You deserve your own room, okay? A room that you can fill with your own stuff and decorate with your own preferences. End of discussion." You sassed as you fix his charging port into place. Sunghoon blinked at you, unable to express how grateful he is of how kind you are to him.

"She wants to treat me like a real human being." He thinks, his mechanical heart overwhelmed with gratitude.

Days went on with a routine, with him cleaning all day and you attending online classes. There were occasional bumps in the road, with you getting annoyed with how much of a neat freak he is and him getting irritated with how lazy you are at taking care of yourself. You've also taught him how to watch tv, deciding not to let him use the internet yet because he might gain too much unnecessary information online.

And so on a saturday night, you sat together on the couch as you watched figure skating competitions. Sunghoon was at complete awe the whole time, studying how the skaters moved through the ice.

"I want to skate too." He states absentmindedly, attention still on the television. You smiled, thinking how it was the first time he actually said he wanted something.

"Then let's do it, let's go skating tomorrow." You say, his head immediately shot to you.

"What, really?" Sunghoon asks in disbelief, his eyes widening.

"Yes, really. Although I'm warning you, I don't know how to skate." You laughed, with him chuckling as well.

"Then we'll learn together." He promises.

What a total lie that is. He didn't need to learn, as you watched him move swiftly against the ice, the wind in his hair as he circled around, his focused eyes twinkling in the fairy lights. He looked ethereal. You could have sworn there were tears there as you cheered him on like a proud momma. Ah, they grew up so fast.

People at the park also stopped to watch Sunghoon, whispering about how talented the young man is. His eyes caught yours, and you weren't sure if you were seeing things but you thought you saw him send you a wink and smile.

"The TV been teaching him things." You muttered, blushing but not from the cold. Sunghoon skates towards you, pulling you with him. You're eyes widened in fear.

"N-no Sunghoon I can't—" but he was already leading you through the ice, eyes never leaving yours.

"You can." He whispers, taking you by the waist as he spun you around. You giddily laughed as you threw your arms out, savouring the chilly air. You didn't even notice the people watching and cooing at you as some joined in as well.

That night, Sunghoon felt something he never felt before, and you in a long time. You felt happy.

"Say aaaah~" Sunghoon said as he fed you chicken soup. You caught a cold from skating yesterday and now you're wrapped in a super cozy blanket with Sunghoon worrying about you.

"You know I can feed myself right?" You said, swallowing the food.

"I know, but I just feel responsible because I was the one who wanted to skate. You got sick because of me, and that kinda defeats my purpose because I'm supposed to be keeping you healthy." He rambled. You roll your eyes at him.

"Colds are normal, okay? Besides, I haven't had that much fun in a while. Thank you for that, Sunghoon." You say, reaching up to tussle his hair playfully. He froze, cogs in his mind unable to process as something inside him stirred, but in a pleasant way.

"So you dance while rubbing your body on a stranger?" Sunghoon questions, but he's not sure if he wants to know the answer. Tonight, you wore a simple black dress that teasingly showed a little bit of cleavage and a decent length of fabric that hugged tightly around your upper thighs but had a daringly high slit. Sunghoon approves and disapproves at the same time.

"Yeah, it's kinda like that. But don't worry, I won't be doing that. I'll just stay by the bar the whole time." You reassured as you struggled to put on your strappy heels. Sunghoon kneels down infront of you and helps you clasp the straps around your ankles, handling it very delicately. Your heart thumps as he looks up at you.

"Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?" He asks for the fifth time as he follows you around the house like a puppy. You sigh, actually considering it. Although it was supposed to be a girl's night according to Yeonmi, you thought maybe having Sunghoon tag along wouldn't do harm.

But it did. It did harm to you, alright. And you wanted to harm those girls who kept on grinding their asses onto Sunghoon as slow, sexy music played. You were fuming, regretting dressing Sunghoon in such fashion that screamed big D energy. Why am I being so possessive? But then again, Sunghoon does look uncomfortable. I should go save him. Yeah, I'll do that.

"Hold my drink." You tell Yeonmi as you made your way to Sunghoon.

"You go girl! Get your man!" Yeonmi cheered drunkly.

Your train of thoughts were blurred by the alcohol as you struggled to walk straight. You had only one clear thought in mind: Sunghoon. I need to get to Sunghoon.

Sunghoon stood uncomfortably, eyeing the girls who rubbed their bossoms and derriere all over him. Is this supposed to be fun? He thinks innocently. He sees you walking towards him, swaying your hips side by side as you strode towards him like a predator.

Girls hovering around him going unnoticed as you were the only one he could see.

Stunning, beautiful. He thought.

"Hey handsome, care to dance?" You asked, pulling him to you before he could even answer. The girls spat at you, telling you to 'get in line' but you just shot them a smug look.

"Sorry ladies." Sunghoon apologized, but his smile told otherwise as he let you pull him away from them.

"You don't know how badly I wanted to get away from—" He froze in his spot as you wrap your arms around his neck, inching closer than ever before. You felt bold, but maybe that was just the alcohol in your system. And as you started moving your body against Sunghoon, you knew it wasn't just you who felt the heat. His large palms go down south, resting on your swaying hips as both of you moved to the sultry rhythm.

His mechanism was going nuts, threatening to malfunction as his sensors detected your very close proximity to him. Whatever you were playing, it was dangerous. But Sunghoon couldn't help but to want more, to desire more.

"Y/N." He whispers, and you look up at him with half lidded eyes. And damn did he find you so sexy right there, under the strobe lights. No girl in the club could ever compare.

"Home?" You suggested.

"Home." He agrees.

As you got in the cab, you immediately find yourself half straddling Sunghoon's lap as you attempt to kiss him. Luckily, Sunghoon can think clearer now and concludes that a drunk Y/N is a very horny Y/N. And though the thought that it was only the alcohol that made you want him made him feel sad, he knew it was wrong to demand such things from you.

And so with your futile attempts to get into his pants, he gently lays your head on his shoulder and hugs you to keep you still. But even that couldn't stop you from squirming to get away from his hold, trying to get some action. He chuckles as he held your hand tightly in his to prevent it from landing into his crotch.

"Now now, you have to stay put. I won't be taking advantage of your state." He scolds gently. And by the time the cab had stopped in front of the building of your apartment, you were fast asleep in Sunghoon's arms.

Times like these were when Sunghoon is glad he was made of aluminum. He scooped you up in his arms like a pillow as he walked up to your apartment. You snuggled up into his chest, looking so innocent as you soaked up his warmth. Sunghoon cooed about how adorable you are, talking to you in your sleep.

He placed you delicately on your bed, contemplating whether to change your clothes or not. He decided not to, noting how your privacy is important to you. You're too drunk and asleep to give him permission right now anyway. He took off your heels and wiped your makeup off very gently, and tucked you in properly.

Long minutes pass as he studies your face, stroking your hair softly as the corners of his mouth lift up unconsciously. He really loves taking care of you. He loves you.

This realization hits him like a truck of overwhelming emotions, but it all makes sense to him now.

"I love you, Y/N." He whispers, leaving a soft kiss on your forehead before retiring to his own room.

848 notes · View notes

estrel · 4 years ago

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for #spnprideweek day 1: coming out + flags

↳ summary: cas tells sam a secret that he hasn’t (really) told anybody else. surprisingly, sam has one too. PRIDE series | gen, sam & cas | word count: 1.7k

[READ ON AO3]

Sam’s grimacing a little at the grease from the fries on Cas’ plate. Cas would usually make a comment, here, about Sam keeping his eyes on his own paper, or that it isn’t nearly as bad as the veggie burger sitting on his plate at Sam’s behest. This is the recompense, Cas wants to say, but his mouth is dry and no words are coming out even if he wants them to.

Accompanying the inability to speak is the twisting feeling in his gut that won’t even allow him to pick up the burger. The smell is too much, too, and Cas hates to admit it but it’s probably the grease, so he sits back a little against the peeling seat of the booth to calm his nerves.

It’s just Sam. He can do this. It’s only that this is the first time he’s telling anyone, and that definitely ups the stakes a little.

Well, that’s somewhat of a lie. Cas had told the nice woman at the grocery store check out last week when he’d seen her little pin on her work uniform and asked where he could get one.

He hadn’t actually bought one, of course, but Cas eyed the small bin full of brightly colored pins on the way out, convincing himself it was stupid to get back in line again for something so small and inexpensive. Still, he’d thought about it on the drive back to the Bunker, and that night in his bed, and the full week following, up until now.

Now, Sam was looking at him with concern, and wiping his mouth in that way that means he’s about to get serious.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, pointedly looking down at Cas’ loaded plate. He’d barely taken a bite, except for a few nibbles of his admittedly greasy fries. And it was weird because since becoming human, Cas' appetite had grown considerably, much to Dean's delight.

And—Dean. That's what this was all about, wasn't it? Sure, it was more than just Dean, it was all the humans that had made Cas' body ache like it hadn't before, had made him think of what it means to be in this vessel—his body—and be attracted to other...humans.

It was odd. In hindsight, things in Heaven had been so much easier in this regard. Cas had spent most of his life clueless to the capabilities of human attraction, and then he met Dean and it all came crashing down around him. Only then, Cas was ignoring it. He was facing the other way, because though he felt human, he wasn't. Not really.

But everything is different now.

Cas clears his throat.

"Well," he starts, "no. I am feeling what I believe you’d call...anxiety. My stomach hurts, I find I'm unable to eat, a-and my hands are—"

"Cas," Sam interrupts. Shaking. Cas' hands are shaking.

Sam's fully set his fork and knife down now, hands clasped together on the edge of the table. "Talk to me."

Cas licks his dry lips.

"It’s not...it isn’t a big deal, really,” and yet Cas can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He sucks in a breath. “But I’m, uh. I wanted to tell you that...I like men.”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, but he blinks at Cas once from across the table.

“Okay.”

Cas raises an eyebrow, pulse slowing down a little with his next exhale. “Okay?”

Maybe it was that simple, and Cas was worrying over nothing. It’s just...this feels like it should be bigger. Earth-shattering. Like Sam should either hug him or tell him he never wants to speak to Cas again.

Instead, he just shrugs, picks up his fork and pushes bits of his salad around his plate.

But then Cas’ gaze moves to Sam’s face and...Sam’s frowning. Cas feels his heart thumping hard again, waiting for the ball to drop. It feels a little like when Dean sat him down to “talk,” right after he lost his powers, and, well. Cas knew how that had ended. He braces himself for the worst, schools his features to something more neutral.

“I’m,” Sam clears his throat, “I’m sorry you got nervous over all of that. I-I get that coming out is...” he laughs, “usually a bigger deal, but. You don’t have to worry with me, you know? I get it.”

That makes Cas pause. “You...do?”

Now Sam’s looking at him, eyes a little wide, but he works his jaw and gets the words out. “Yeah. Uh... well I guess now’s a good a time as any to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

The fork is set back down again. The bell over the diner door jingles.

“In college...you know about Jess,” Sam says, jogging Cas’ memory. He knows, so he nods and Sam continues, “Well we uh. We actually met in a Gender Studies class. I thought, ‘pff, easy A,’ but it was actually way more complex than I originally thought, so she kind of...tutored me.” Cas raises an eyebrow, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Actually tutored me. Whatever. Point is, I learned a lot—‘cause she was a great teacher—and...not just about the class, but about myself, too.”

Cas nods slowly, beginning to catch Sam’s drift. “Okay...”

Despite his tone, Sam’s posture stiffens a little, like he’s uncomfortable, or not really used to this type of conversation. Cas does his best to relax into his seat to ease him, unfolding his arms.

“What I’m saying is,” Sam shrugs, “I’m...not...cis. Like, I don’t....I’m not um, a guy, I guess. Well, sort of. I’m non-binary.”

Cas is silent for a second, mulling it over in his head. Eventually it becomes long enough for Sam to say, “Uh...you know what? You can forget it, man—”

“No!” Cas says, almost knocking over his plate in the process. The silverware clatters as it falls onto the table, and Sam flinches a little. “I was just thinking...I want to apologize if anything I’ve said about your gender has ever made you uncomfortable, or if you—”

Sam’s out-facing palm makes Cas stutter to a stop. There’s a weird guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, and the anxiety that he’d thought was gone is back full force again. Cas tears off a piece of his napkin.

“Cas, dude. Calm down,” Sam laughs. He takes a deep breath, and Cas follows his lead. They breathe in and out together for a beat, and when Cas feels fairly calmer, Sam pushes both of their plates aside.

“There’s no need to apologize for something you couldn’t have known about,” he starts, shaking his head a little, “and you haven’t done anything wrong, either. I still use he and him pronouns, and sometimes they and them. And besides, it’s not like I go around telling people. Especially with, uh, the way I was raised...I’ve been hesitant, you know? It was great in college, people were really supportive when I told them. But then when I started hunting again...I don’t know.

“My dad...uh. I tried telling him, once. Didn’t go too well, so I didn’t try it again. I think that’s why Dean...” he shakes his head, frowning down at the table again. “It wasn’t easy, growing up the way we did. You could probably understand that.”

Cas nods. Under the table, his napkin is shredded into bits.

“I do. I think, in a way, I also understand being trans.” Sam jerks their head up, intrigued.

“Angels...we don’t experience gender the same way humans do. In fact, the concept is entirely nonexistent in Heaven. So, when we take vessels...”

“You’re essentially defining yourself,” Sam says in awe. It makes Cas smile to see them back in their element, leaning forward a little to listen better. “I never thought about it that way, not really.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m not sure all of my siblings did, either. Many chose according to which vessel would best suit them and their form. That was definitely a factor in me choosing Jimmy, but I also found the thought of looking like a human man...greatly appealing.”

Sam’s nodding now, gaze darting to different parts of the table. Cas knows that means they’re mentally crafting an essay right about now, or thinking of what books in the Bunker might further help in their research about it.

“Wow,” he says, “that’s—I mean. Wow, Cas. Thanks for telling me that. And uh, the other thing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

There’s a comfortable silence between them now, and Cas takes it as an opportunity to sip from his slightly-melted iced tea.

“So,” Sam starts again slowly, “have you told Dean?”

Cas sucks in another deep breath, and Sam nods. “Yeah,” he says, “me neither.”

It surprises Cas a little that Sam hasn’t told him, and he expresses that with an inquiring eyebrow.

Sam purses his lips and dodges the unspoken question. “Dean’s not a bad guy. You probably know that better than anyone except me. You know he’d still love you if you told him.”

Cas’ heart pounds at the mention of the word. When Sam notices, he feels his ears begin to heat with a blush.

“Oh,” Sam smiles, “that. I figured. For a while now, but I didn’t wanna say anything.”

Cas tries to will away the heat on his face. He doesn’t say anything, so Sam leaves it be.

The waitress gives them a worried look when she brings the check, eyeing their barely touched plates. They both smile apologetically, insisting that their food was “great” when she whisks it away.

On their way back home, Cas asks if Sam can stop at the store. They don’t ask anything more than, “we need groceries that bad?” and Cas dips inside. He knows this is just like any other grocery run—going in and out as quick as possible with the things they need—yet his heart hammers all the same when he stops in front of the bin near the door. The same employee from last week is working on lane six, and he’s sure to check out at that one with his goods. She gives him a knowing smile.

Cas flops into the passenger seat, a little out of breath.

“That was fast,” Sam starts to say, before noticing Cas’ lack of grocery bags. “Dude. What d’you buy, air?”

Instead, Cas brandishes two brightly colored pins. Sam tentatively takes the yellow, white, purple, and black one, eyes wide.

“For me?” they ask.

Cas smiles, running his thumb over the rainbow one in his hand.

“For both of us,” he says.

[@spnprideweek]

#b*gen #bookshelf #spnprideweek #sam and cas #rambleoncas writing #roc original #my post #theedorksinlove #userdainty #klinejack #usershey #creativecaviar #userpris #usersully #spnclownpals #hope it was okay to tag!!

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jaceyneedsabetterusername · 4 years ago

Text

Hayloft (p.1)

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts...)

Warnings: Abuse, mentions of drinking, misogyny, reader’s mother is dead

Word Count: 3.2k

A/N: My first slow(er) burn fic! Let me know what you think!

__________________

When your car finally pulled up the old dirt driveway to your family's farm house, the sun was already setting, casting an orange hue over the acres of land that your father had inherited from his father. It was beautiful, really. The sun was behind your old two story home made of wood planks that were covered in chipping white paint. The door’s paint was also chipping, only this time it was old navy blue paint - at least that’s the color it was supposed to be when it was painted who knows how many decades ago - that peeled back to reveal the wood beneath.

Your father’s truck wasn’t in the driveway yet when you pulled up and you sighed in relief because it gave you the opportunity to get dinner started before he got home. You headed straight for the kitchen. The only moment taken for yourself was the moment of silence when you leaned against the counter top and stretched out your back from the long day's work at the diner. The refrigerator was mostly empty and you made a mental note to run to the store after work tomorrow before your father could notice the lack of food. Thankfully, there was still enough scraps to piece something together for tonight between the fridge and the cupboards.

The house was swimming with the delicious scent of herbs, onions, potatoes, and stock as you boiled a stew on the stove when you heard the front door open. “Hi, Daddy! How was work?” You asked over your shoulder before you even heard his steps enter the kitchen, not actually caring but knowing he’d be upset if you didn’t ask.

He came around the corner but you could hear from the moment the door opened that there were the footsteps of more than one person entering your home. With a frown, you turned from the stove and took a few steps so you could see around the wall that blocked your view of the front door but your father and new mystery person stepped around that corner and into the kitchen before you could get that far. You stopped in your tracks, startled by their sudden appearance, and your hand flew to your chest as your eyes widened in surprise. “Sorry!” You chuckled awkwardly, apologizing for your jumpiness, “Didn’t think you’d be comin’ in here.”

It was a man about your age that stood just behind your father, a navy baseball cap twisted in his hands and his footsteps light so as to not knock dirt off onto the floor from his work boots, both welcomed displays of manners that you appreciated, unlike your father who left a trail of chunks of dried mud and grease everywhere he walked. This new boy, though, he was cute. Short curly hair that was messy, either from work or wearing the hat, big expressive brown eyes that reminded you of a puppy in the best possible way, a tight lipped expression that showed he was a little nervous and uncomfortable to be here, they were all a welcome, albeit unexpected, surprise.

"Work was good. This here is Arvin Russel. He'll be staying with us, at least for the night." Your eyes flicked back to the boy you now knew as Arvin when your dad introduced him and your heart skipped a beat at the eye contact.

He nodded his head slightly, a small cordial smile flashing on his face for just a moment, "Pleasure to meet you,..."

"Y/N. It's nice to meet you as well. If you're staying the night, let me add some water to the soup and then I'll go make up the spare bed." You pointed your thumb over your shoulder towards the pot of stew that was nearly done.

"That's very kind of you. Thank you."

Before you could notice him moving, your dad was already beside the fridge and you reached out to try to stop him before he could open it. "Let me get you something! What about you, Arvin? You want a beer or some water?" You scurried to try and beat your dad to the fridge that you knew would earn you a reprimanding that you didn’t deserve.

You were too late though and your dad already swung the door open wide. You stepped back nervously, rubbing the sharp edge of your nails against your thumb. "It's damn near empty." He noted, voice stiff and dissatisfied. He stood, managing to produce the last two beers from the refrigerator before slamming it shut.

You flinched at the loud sound, hearing the few glass jars of preserves and jams clanging against each other inside from the force. Your eyes rolled beneath closed lids at his overdramatic reaction, even though it was one you expected. "I'm gonna hit the market after work tomorrow but I checked that we have enough for dinner tonight and breakfast tomorrow." Your voice was sweet and placating, careful to respond in a way that would keep his temper in check.

"It's that damn job of yours. I told you women shouldn't be working. They belong in the house where you should be. Now look. You went and let the kitchen run out." He passed Arvin a beer, which he reluctantly accepted, watching the way your father pointed his finger at you accusingly. “Ain’t no man gonna want a wife who can’t even keep the kitchen stocked up.”

Your tongue was raw inside from biting down on it so hard in order to keep yourself in line, as he called it. You didn't need a blow out tonight, not with Arvin here. "I manage to work and keep up with the house just fine, Daddy. We just got a little low on groceries but I'll be heading to the market tomorrow to fix it. Don’t you worry." Even you were surprised with how even and sweet your voice came out, that ever present fire of anger towards your father having been fanned into a decent blaze.

He popped the tab on his beer and sighed, dropping the topic for the time being, "Fine. But make sure to pick up some fixin's for that chicken roast you make. Patty is lookin' nice and fat in the coop so why don't you cook her up tomorrow."

You grimaced at the thought. Patty was one of the chickens in your coop out back that had been pretty slow when it came to laying eggs but you’d grown attached to her nonetheless. Ever since you were a young girl, your daddy warned you not to become attached to the animals out back but you never listened. Back then, you’d had your mother to step in and convince him not to kill the animals for whatever reason she could come with and opt for buying meat from the market instead. You hadn’t been able to convince him like that since she’d passed. Everything had been different since she passed.

“I don’t know, Daddy. Patty’s been layin’ a lot of eggs lately and we’ve been gettin’ extra money from sellin’ all those eggs. Why don’t I just pick up a chicken in town tomorrow at the store.” You insisted, walking back over to the stove to stir the stew.

“Don’t go wastin’ money on things we already got! We got some chickens out back. Just cook one of ‘em up tomorrow!” Your father’s voice was hard and stern now, enough to fill the air with tension in Arvin’s presence. You turned slowly, making eye contact with Arvin briefly before quickly avoiding it. You didn’t like the way he stood awkwardly, silently watching the interaction he clearly didn’t think highly of. Your father was already getting worked up and it would only get worse the longer the night went on.

Biting your cheek, you nodded, “Yes, sir. Now why don’t you boys go get cleaned up. Dinner will be ready in just a minute.”

Dinner went relatively well, despite your father’s occasional grumblings about there not being any beer. Once you finished, you stood up and picked up yours and your father’s bowls before noticing Arvin’s was empty as well. “Did you want some more? There’s just enough for one more if you’d like it.” You offered Arvin that last bit of stew but he just shook his head and stood up.

“Oh, no thank you miss. Dinner was delicious though. Let me help with that.” He grabbed his own bowl before your hand could reach it and then took the bowls from your hands as well before setting them down at the sink.

You chased after him, “Thank you but you don’t have to do that! Please, sit. I’ll make your bed up when I’m finished cleaning up dinner.”

“She’s right, son. Kitchen ain’t no place for a man. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you the room you’ll be stayin’ in.” You father’s chair screeched against the beat up wooden floor as he stood, beckoning Arvin to him.

Arvin was standing right beside you, his arm only a few inches from yours as he lowered the stack of bowls into the sink. He looked over at you with deep soulful eyes that seemed to look right through your calm facade in a way that made you feel seen like never before. It was highly uncomfortable, almost violating after all these years of hiding away what you felt for the sake of keeping the peace, and you forced a smile, “Please, you’re our guest. It wouldn’t be right to make you do the dishes. You go with him.”

He gave you a drawn out hesitant look but turned away nonetheless and walked towards your dad. “Thank you again for letting me stay here till I get things figured out. It’s mighty kind of you.” Arvin thanked you and your father for your hospitality, shooting you one last glance over his shoulder before following your father down up the stairs towards the spare room.

You made quick work of the dishes, having cleaned most of them as you were cooking earlier anyways and scurried to the closet that held your extra sheets. As you passed the bathroom, you heard the shower running and knew it was your father bathing after his long day of work, like he always did right after dinner. The man was a creature of habit.

With your arms full of neatly folded faded steel blue linens and the thicker burnt sienna colored wool blanket, you made your way towards the guest room Arvin was staying in to find the door wide open and the man looking through his bag that was set on the bed. “Knock knock,” you announced your presence, waiting at the entryway for Arvin to notice you before entering.

He spun around, dropping something that you didn’t see quickly into his bag and pressing it down while flashing you a small polite smile, “Hello, ma’am.”

You walked into the room, raising the linens in your hands, “I brought some sheets so I could make up your bed.” You walked over to the wooden chair and set the top sheet down before making your way back over to the bed, unfolding the bottom sheet as you did, waving it up and down in the air to straighten it out before laying it flat on the bed.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, miss,” He moved his bag to the ground and jumped to lift the corner of the mattress and tuck the sheet beneath it.

You blushed at his kindness, not used to such help from your father, but shook your head, tucking the sheet beneath the mattress on the opposite side of the bed “If my daddy came in and saw you fixin’ the bed yourself, he’d kill me,” you chuckled to make it sound like a joke but you knew better than that. He wouldn’t actually kill you but you would certainly get some less than kind words thrown your way, maybe even a few beer cans thrown your way depending on how drunk he was.

Arvin shook his head, his hands falling on his hips, “Looks like you do most the housework ‘round here.” What he was insinuating was clear even though his tone didn’t change but you didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn’t need to concern himself with the difficulties between you and your father.

“So how’d you and my dad meet?” You changed the topic, going to grab the top sheet and unfolding it. You laid it over the bed and tucked your side in, Arvin reaching down to tuck his side in as well in a silent act of defiance against your insistence that he didn’t need to help. It occurred to you suddenly after the question left your lips that you didn’t actually know anything about this boy but, for some reason, you still didn’t feel uneasy around him.

Arvin pulled the top corner of the sheet up to the head of the bed as he answered, “I just started workin’ at the garage with ‘im.”

“You like cars?” You questioned, spreading out the final layer on the bed, the wool blanket.

Arvin shrugged, “Never been really into ‘em but I can fix ‘em alright enough. Just needed the work and happened to see the wanted sign when I was passin’ through town.”

Your brow raised in curiosity, “You were just passin’ through and stopped in this old town cause of a help wanted sign?” The little town you lived in wasn’t terrible but it was far from a destination that people really moved to for work unless you a doctor desperate for a place to practice or something like that. “You must really be desperate,” you joked but immediately felt a slight pang of regret when a shred of truth could be seen in his eyes.

“Just tryna figure out where I’m goin’ ‘n what I wanna do. Figure I’ll find somewhere I like eventually.” Arvin picked up his bag and set it off to the side where it was a little more out of the way.

You stared at the man standing before you, taking every bit of him from the grease stains on his white t-shirt to his scuffed up brown work boots to his messy hair, dirty from dried sweat. It wasn’t until you locked eyes with him that you realized that you’d been staring in a settled yet weirdly comfortable silence. You stood up straight and smiled to diffuse the awkwardness you’d unintentionally fostered, “You’re more than welcome to take a shower. My daddy should be finished any second. I’ll set some extra towels in there for you.”

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you.” He nodded in appreciation but offered no further conversation. You could tell from the moment of silence that it was time for you to make your exit.

“Well, uh, I better head to bed. You need anything before I go?” You asked, backing towards the door and swinging slightly with it once your hand hit the old bronze knob.

Arvin shook his head, “No, thank you. ‘M all set.”

“Alrighty, then. You have a good night.” You chewed your lip as you opened the door to make your exit.

“G’night, miss Y/N.”

Butterflies flew wildly in your belly as you walked to your bedroom. It had been a long while since you’d seen somebody worth looking twice at in this old town but now a mysterious handsome man rolls into town and stays with you. In your house. It probably wasn’t the safest of situations but Arvin genuinely looked like a nice man. From your very brief interactions with him, you couldn’t really imagine him trying to hurt you or your father for no reason. Even if he did, you knew where your daddy kept his shotgun and you had no problem defending yourself. But like I said, you had an unearned sense of peace with Arvin that you hoped wasn’t a misjudgement.

“What’re you smilin’ ‘bout?” Your father’s gruff but thankfully not entirely drunk voice made you stop in your tracks and turn towards his room with a suppressed groan. He stood in the doorway of his bedroom in nothing but an undershirt and long johns with his suspenders hanging loosely at his sides.

You shook the smile off your face. “Just thought of somethin’ funny that happened at work,'' you lied. “You need somethin’?”

“I watched you come out o’ that boy’s room with a big ol’ grin on your face. Better not let me catch you ‘n him. Ain’t no daughter o’ mine gonna be whorin’ around with some boy blowin’ through town, y’hear?” He threatened, his hands reaching down to pull up his worn out long johns.

Your blood boiled at the accusation and despite your best efforts to keep peace while Arvin was here, you spat words with venom, “I wasn’t doin’ nothin’ with Arvin. God forbid I have a damn smile on my face.” Your voice was low enough so that you hoped your guest hadn’t heard your outburst but when your father’s face darkened and he began taking slow, heavy steps towards you, you weren’t sure if your charade of normalcy would last much longer.

Your father hovered over you, exaggerating the size difference between the two of you, “I put a roof over your head. I put food on the table. You play make believe with that little diner job but I'm the head of this house. I'm your father. You watch that fuckin’ tone with me girl."

Your jaw was clenched tightly, matching your fists, as you glared up at him with indignantly furious eyes. Father your ass. He once had been your father, an imperfect but loving man who used to try. Now he was merely a selfish broken sperm donor. He inherited this house from his father, didn’t pay a darn cent, and you couldn't remember the last time he pitched in a dime for anything but alcohol and the occasional dinner he made when he was in a good mood. He did do that- have these strange out of character nights where he pretended to be kind and loving. They were far and few between though and, while you enjoyed the change of pace, it felt like walking on eggshells in some fantasy world.

A heavy silence settled between the two of you that crackled with a tension that could snap at any moment and turn into a full blown fight. Your eyes were narrowed on his as you refused to let him think he intimidated you anymore. Nevertheless, you turned on your heel, nails digging into your palm, and walked down the hall towards your room, leaving him alone.

“He wouldn’t want you anyways, fuckin’ attitude like that.” Your father grumbled to your back, hoping for one last reaction out of you that you refused to give.

It took all the control in the world to not slam the door in his face but you knew there was no way it would escape Arvin’s attention. You’d have to resort to the therapy of muffling your furious tear-soaked screams into your pillow until you finally fell asleep, like you did many nights.

#arvin russel imagine #arvin russell x reader #Arvin Russell #arvin x reader #arvin russell x you #arvin russel x you #arvin russel x reader #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #The Devil All The Time #tdatt #tdatt imagine #tdatt fics

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