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nataliedanovelist · 4 years ago

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GF - Amalia

For @artsymeeshee. Thank you for everything you do for us, for providing plenty of fluff, over-protective Ford content, and angst with a happy fluffy ending. Love you!

~~~~~~~~~~

The snow reflected the tiny amount of sunlight the capital of Iceland received. Spring was coming, though still a ways off, but the large island still welcomed the sun that was starting to rise earlier every day and stay longer as February was coming to a close.

She opened her eyes as the sunlight reflected on the Sea and sparkled like magical dust. She stood proudly on her beam, her favorite Nest, and stretched her back and paws, letting her claws escape her tiny little beans, and then hide again, a secret weapon for any enemies, though she had few. Really, apart from some rude Cubs shooting tiny metal balls at her, the world was fairly kind to her. Big Animals in thick coats gave her Pets and occasionally Food, coming in big Machines and soon left. Some of the Machines made dark clouds, some looked like they were controlled by fluffy white clouds. She liked them all, and was Happy to make sure no Bad Machines or Bad Animals in thick coats came on her Land.

Sometimes, when things were quiet by the sea, she would go Exploring. Cubs would play with her, maybe a Bad Animal or two would try to hit her with a collection of straw at the end of a stick, but she was fast and agile and was never hurt too much. Nothing she couldn’t handle. Today she thought she might go Explore her Land, but something caught her attention. An Animal was standing on a Machine.

The fur on the top of it’s head was fluffy. She wanted to play with it. It had glass in front of it’s eyes, for whatever reason, and had a coat like her’s: thick and blue, but a darker shade, not light like snow, like her’s. She blinked at the Animal and watched it. It took in a deep breath, smiling, and a Hole opened on the side of the Machine and a Path appeared, sliding down onto her Land. “Come on, Stanley, we have a lot to do today!”

“What’s your rush, Sixer?” Another voice could be heard as the Animal left it’s Machine and a second Animal appeared. This one had something red on it’s head, though it didn’t appear injured, and it also had glass in front of it’s eyes. She didn’t want to be seen right now, so she hopped down from her favorite sleeping spot and hid behind some boxes. “We’ve got all day, and if you really wanna sight-see we can stay here tomorrow, too.”

“Yes, I suppose so, but then we’ll have to wait another day for Mabel’s package for us in Ullapool, Scotland.”

“Good point. But we can always visit this place again on our way back to Oregon.”

“Fair enough. Well, how about a quick walk and then we’ll restock on supplies.”

“S’long as we can stop at that bar tonight.”

“Deal.”

The two Animals smelled similar, but not identical. They were a Pack. A Herd. A Family. She watched them venture further into her Land, but she let them. They were Good. She could tell. She emerged from her hiding spot a little after they passed her and watched them go. She wanted to go with them, but she didn’t want to be caught. She would have to be sneaky.

She carefully walked behind the Animals with glass in front of their eyes and watched them. The Animals were a wonderful Pack. They talked and laughed and played, pushing every so often, playing like she used to with her brothers and sisters, and she smiled at knowing they were having fun and learning how to be good fighters. When the Animals were joining other Animals on busy parts of her Land, she climbed up the stone Dens and walked on the tall place to watch them and be close to them. She was good at being sneaky; they did not know she was there.

Sometimes the Animals would go inside the Dens. When this happened she would sit and wait for them to come out. Sometimes they came out with nothing new, other times they would come out with Gain in their holds. When they walked, she walked with them, either behind them or above them. Too soon the Sun was setting again, and she found the Animals going back to their Machine. She was Sad, but walked behind them at a safe distance and watched them enter their Machine.

Behind the boxes, she laid on her belly, resting her face in her paws, Sad that the Animals were going away. She liked them. But then she heard something that made her lift her head and her ears stop being droopy. She looked up at the Machine and found the Animals coming back! They had no Gains with them; they must have left them in their Machine, and decided to go out Exploring again! She watched from behind the boxes as the Animals walked into a Den not too far from the Sea, and she made a Plan.

She had been Sad when she thought the Animals were going away forever, like all the other Animals did. Very Sad. She never wanted to be that Sad again. She carefully sniffed the Path and decided that it was Safe, so she trotted on it, through the Hole, and was on a Machine.

She was a little bit Scared. She had never been on a Machine before, but she could smell her favorite Animals everywhere and could feel the Sea beneath her. She loved the Animals and the Sea, and she knew she was Safe. She decided it was time to go Exploring! This Land was big, but not too big, so it wasn’t Scary. She walked around and could smell more of her favorite Animals’ scent from inside the Machine, inside the Den. There was a Hole with a small opening, leaking out the smell and light, so she pushed the Hole open a little more and entered the Den.

The den was Warm and Safe and smelled of her favorite Animals whom she loved. There were tiny Suns here and there inside the Den. There was something big and Cozy in the Den, away from the Hole. She hopped onto it and pawed at it and rolled around it. It smelled like the Animals the most and she almost fell asleep, but she wanted to Explore some more. And she was hungry. Maybe the animals had Food in this Den.

She stood and sniffed. Something smelled Good. Smelled of Food. She followed the smell to something tall that held weird rectangles with black scribbles on them. There was a small container Animals used to hold Food. This was wet and black, but she lapped at it anyhow, but it was not Good. Not Bad, but not Good. Oh, well. She would find Food later. She wanted to Explore some more.

She hopped down from the tall place and smelled as she Explored. The Land went down at the farthest part from the Hole. It looked a little Scary, but she could still smell her favorite Animals, so she hopped, hopped, hopped down carefully. She was surprised to find two fluffy Nests inside this deep part of the Den. This must be where the Animals slept. She could tell; it smelled the most like them. She smiled and hopped up onto one and rolled around and played with the fluffy stuff. It was Fun and Cozy and Warm and Safe and Good.

She stopped to stretch and yawn. She was Tired. She decided to sleep here, but where? She needed her own Nest. At the end of one Nest, there was a box. She loved boxes, and this one had a tee tiny Hole that could be made into a bigger Hole. She hopped down and stretched her front paws and head into the Hole, pushing through it. The whole box was filled with Warm fluff that smelled of her favorite Animals. She was excited. Her own Nest was Warm and smelled like her favorite Animals! She slipped in, circled, and tucked herself in to go to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

After some tasty food and warm beer, the brothers returned to their home on the water, tired and ready for bed. It was very cold and bitter out in the night hair, but that only made the warm boat more welcoming and more appreciated. However, Ford was a little annoyed at finding the door cracked open, letting in cold air. “Stanley, I thought I told you to close the door all the way.”

“Sorry, Ma, I was hungry.” Stan said sarcastically and shrugged as they went inside.

Ford sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed and locked the door tightly. “Good thing I’ve almost perfected our security system so we won’t have to worry about being robbed.”

Stan rolled his eyes and yawned into his hand. “Welp, I’m beat. You coming to bed or do I gotta drag you there myself?” He asked, shrugging his trenchcoat off and throwing it on the couch on his way to the stairs downward for the bedroom.

“No, no, I’m coming.” Ford said tiredly and followed his brother down into their bedroom. “I’ll be taking a shower so if you want one you’ll have to wait.”

“Nah, I’ll take one in the morning.” Stan answered, peeling off his beanie and yawing again, ready to collapse into his warm bed and not move again until sunrise.

Ford moved to the far end of the bedroom, where the bathroom was located, and turned on the shower so the water could warm up. Meanwhile Stan groaned, seeing how Ford had done laundry that morning and now his twin had to pull the warm extra blankets and quilts out from the chest at the foot of his bed.

Stan opened it groggily, not expecting to stare down at the context for a full minute until he was capable of speech, but here he was.

“Uh… Sixer?”

“Yes, Stanley.”

“We have an expected guest on board.”

Ford stopped unzipping his blue hoodie and joined his brother at the chest, who’s eyebrow was raised in unapproval. The aged scientist, however, was stuck with a blank facial expression while he tried to digest the fact that there was an animal curled up on top of the stack of blankets and quilts.

It looked like a cat, though it was unfair to call her a cat. Passersby may assume so without a second glance, but this creature appeared too abnormal to be a kitten. She had pointy ears coated in thick fur to keep out cold hair, light-blue fur that could blend into snow, a tiny button black nose between huge, round, baby-blue eyes, a small floof of fur on the top of her head, and a skinny tail with fluff for fur at the end. It appeared so small and helpless in the mess of blankets, looking up at the brothers with shiny eyes filled with wonder. After a moment of silence, Ford grinned and placed his hands on his knees to be closer to the anomaly without frightening it, and he spoke to her with a voice as quiet as a mouse and soft as silk.

“Hello. Where did you come from, my dear?”

“Dunno, don’t care.” Stan moved towards her and said, “I’ll put her back outside.”

Ford’s senses heightened and he gently grabbed his brother’s wrist to stop him. “Hold it, Stanley, there’s no reason to kick her out so quickly. She’s not doing any harm.” Ford returned his smile to the anomaly and cooed softly as he reached for her and let her sniff his six-fingered hand. “Come here, little one, it’s alright.”

The anomaly happily sniffed Ford’s hand and rubbed the side of her head onto his palm, begging for pets, which he happily gave. The eldest twin carefully scooped her up into his harms and scratched her, finding her favorite spot, until she was practically putty in his hold as he scratched her under her chin.

Stan stared in disbelief and snorted. “Are you kidding me? You spent most of your life around dangerous monsters and you’re gonna let one on our boat?”

“She’s not a monster.” He scolded lightly and smiled again as she purred against his chest. He held her out to him to see better and added cheerfully, “Look how cute she is, Stan!”

“Yeah, until it decides to eat our face!” Stan argued, a hand up in defense.

“She won’t hurt us.” Ford said firmly and held her close to his chest again, letting her lay on her back so her four little limbs were up and trying to catch his wiggling fingers. “I bet she was cold and hungry and was trying to find shelter. Isn’t that wight, wittle one?” He cooed in a low voice. “Who’s a hun-gy wittle anomaly? Are you, are you?”

“Don’t feed it!” Stan yelled after his brother as he went upstairs. “Then it’ll want to stay!”

“Great idea, we’ll feed her so she’ll want to stay!”

“That is NOT what I said!”

Ford rolled his eyes and laughed down at the anomaly when she caught his fingers and licked him with a rough tongue. She wasn’t even trying to hurt him. She was playing and happy to give his hand a little bath. “Don’t worry, my dear. Stanley is right about one thing: I’ve met many aliens and monsters and anomalies in my day, but I can tell when one has nefarious purposes and when one does not, and you don’t. You’re a good little girl; I can tell.”

One handed so he could still cradle her, Ford opened the freshly filled cabinets to hunt for something the strange animal would eat. “Hm, let’s take a look at your teeth.” He gently pulled down her mouth and as surprised how little she fidgeted and fought him. “Interesting. Only half of your teeth are carnivorous. You must be able to adapt to plants or berries if needed. Very well, let’s see… oh, here. You’re lucky Stan talked me into picking up tuna.”

At the time it seemed ridiculous to buy canned tuna when they could fish for dinner whenever they wanted, but Stan said they should still get it because canned goods never expired and fishing wasn’t always successful, so Ford opened the can and placed it on the table and sat the anomaly down while he tidied up a bit, stacking his notes and books and putting his cold coffee in the sink. From the sounds of it, Stan had hopped in the shower since Ford was apparently too busy playing host to bathe, which was fine by him. He sat in a chair, watching how the anomaly ate.

She was definitely not skin-and-bones, but she ate quickly, plunging her face into the can and eating happily. Ford chuckled and pet down her back. She was fairly clean, if not a little weather-beaten. Clearly she could take care of herself, but why should she when he could? Okay, sure, Stanley was a little apprehensive about taking in a strange anomaly as a pet, and perhaps Ford shouldn’t be so quick to take her in as a pet. She might not be happy cooped up in a boat with two old men. In fact, if she lived on this dock, she might do this often, visiting sailors for food and shelter and then leaving in the morning.

“Well, if you want to leave, I won’t stop you,” Ford said to her as he watched her eat. “But if you want to stay, you’re more than welcome to.”

The fluffy anomaly sat up and looked at him with kind eyes. Ford smiled at her, and could have sworn she returned with a tiny smile. He slowly reached for his journal, a green book with a golden six-fingered hand and a crescent on the cover, and opened it carefully so as to not scare her. The anomaly sat perfectly still, watching him, as he turned to a clean page and pulled out a pen to begin sketching her. He titled his head to the side to get a better angle of her, and he stared to find her doing the same, mirroring him.

Ford smiled and titled his head the other way, and sure enough the little one followed his lead. Chuckling, he decided to push his luck and he straightened his head and stuck his tongue out at her just a little bit. The anomaly stared at him, and sure enough, a tiny pink tongue poked out at him. Ford snorted, bit his lip, and continued sketching. He noticed her tail was wagging, like a dog’s might when happy, and he added that to his notes. He had no idea what to call this species, so he left the title blank for now, deciding he would come up with a species title once he had more information.

They must have been at that table for an hour or so, because soon Stan’s rough voice called from the bedroom sharply, “Sixer, if you’re not down here in two minutes…”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Ford called back and grinned as the little anomaly yawned, making the tiny tongue stretch out and curl inwards slightly. The old man carefully pick her up and carried her with him into his shared bedroom. Stan was in his undershirt and boxers, shaking his hair dry with a towel as he sat on his bed, and he growled when he saw the animal still in his twin’s arms.

“Please tell me you’re not taking it to bed.” He snarled.

“No, of course not.”

“Good.”

“She deserved her own space.” Ford said as he pulled a pink blanket out from the chest and placed it neatly, still folded, on the floor between the beds. “She can have her own bed.”

“What!?” Stan yelled as Ford got on his knees and let the anomaly climb down onto the blanket to give it a try. “I’m not letting that thing sleep in here! What if it turns into some blood-sucking monster in it’s sleep and kills us both?!”

“That won’t happen, don’t be so paranoid.”

“Oh ho! That’s a new one!” Stan laughed harshly, but quickly turned sour again. “Can’t believe you're not a bit more guarded with that thing? What makes you think you can trust it?!”

Ford shrugged. “A lot of people lately have proven to me that I can trust others. Besides, there’s good in her. I can tell.”

Stan blinked at his brother. It was like this was a completely different man than who had come out of the portal. Well, okay, Ford knew that before they had even started sailing that Ford wasn’t the same person he was when he punched Stan in the face, but still. Stanford Pines really had changed a lot.

“It’s just for one night, Stanley.” Ford eased as he took off his hoodie and slipped off his boots, preparing for bed. “She’ll leave in the morning and find some new friends to provide food and shelter from the next cold night, I’m sure of it.”

Stan rolled his eyes and laid down with his back to the fluffy pair. “Fine, whatever.”

Ford had to admit that he was a little chest-fallen that his brother was a little cold towards their temporary house-guest, but he can recall their niece telling Ford that Stanley appeared to have a burning hatred for a certain pig, but everyone knew he loved Waddles very much. Perhaps he was trying to prove he was still a tough guy, or perhaps Stanley didn’t want to get attached to the anomaly so he wouldn’t be disheartened when she was gone. Ford knew he could handle her leaving tomorrow if she wanted to, he would be happy to have met her and that she was happy, so with one final scratch between her ears, ruffling her little floof, Ford took off his glasses and turned off the lantern, letting darkness overtake the bedroom.

“Goodnight, Stanley.”

“G’night, Sixer.” The younger twin managed to grunt.

Ford smiled, relieved that at least his brother wasn’t angry at him, and he slept soundly as the warm boat kept the cold late-winter air away.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was the first one to wake up. Or at least the first one to rise out of their bed. He slipped on his glasses and was happy to find the little anomaly where he had left her last night: curled up like a kitten on her folded blanket. He took the time to scratch her behind her ears before heading towards the shower.

The aged explorer could understand why Mabel was so attached to her pet pig, Waddles. There was immense satisfaction in caring for something or someone and having them care for you in return. While that is the fundamental basics of human relationships, homo sapiens tend to over complicate such relationships with intense emotions and lack of logic. Other species, like most animals on Earth, allowed this principle to be basic and easy, simple. Give love, get love.

Throughout the years, Ford had indeed come across hundreds of thousands of different creatures. True, a vast majority wanted to eat his face, but to be fair he had been in their climate and they were hungry. That was the beautiful circle of life. Some creatures were perfectly friendly and could even offer some companionship, but none of the creatures Ford had met would stay for long and he knew better than to get too attached; he was too busy trying to take care of himself to add a pet to his list of responsibilities. However, if an animal who enjoyed his company wanted to walk with him in the forest or up a mountain, he wouldn’t stop it or go out of his way to scare it off, knowing full well something else would capture it’s attention or Ford would have to hop through a hole in space-time and the animal would run off, less inclined to follow the kind stranger to an alien world.

Still, a small part of Ford had missed the idea of having a pet. He can remember enjoying Shanklin’s company as a child and being very sad when he had died, though not nearly as heartbroken as Stanley had been. When he had discovered the Shapeshifter as a hatchling, there was a reason he had quickly associated it as a pet, despite Fiddleford’s arguments against it. Perhaps if the encounter hadn’t ended so ugly or if he hadn't been so distracted with Bill and the portal, Ford might have taken in a pet to give him company when it was time for Fiddleford to return home. Maybe a low-maintenance cat or something unique and different. Maybe he would take in a plaidypus. He had enjoyed that anomaly’s company.

As the warm water made it easy for the old sailor to think, he seriously considered adopting the new anomaly as his pet. He knew that Stanley would warm up to her eventually, he just needed time to trust that she wouldn’t go savage on them. Really, there was no real issue or obstacle in his way. They were financially stable, so they could afford to take care of her, there were no other pets that might get jealous of her, they would always be around her so she would never be neglected or abandoned on the boat. Really, the only obstacle Ford could see was that the anomaly might not want to stay.

If Ford had learned anything about wildlife is that animals pick the humans just as much as humans pick the animals. There must be a mutual agreement to love and care for each other in their own unique way, but if one if not willing or incapable of returning the affection, then the arrangement wouldn’t work. There was a large possibility that the anomaly was perfectly happy being a peaceful stray and didn’t want to be tied down to one boat and one pair of sailors, which was perfectly fine. Like Ford had said last night, if she wanted to leave, that was okay. But if she wanted to stay Ford would be nothing short of delighted.

As Ford emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist and a towel in his hand, shaking his fluffy charcoal gray hair dry, he found the sweet anomaly on his bed, playing with his blankets, rolling around and pawing at the soft fabric. He smiled and hung up the towel in his hand as he approached the anomaly, who stopped playing to receive pets and lick his six fingers.

“Good morning, my dear. Sleep well?” He whispered, knowing full well she couldn’t respond, but she looked so happy and well rested, even her fur appeared to host some bed-head. Ford glanced over at his twin, who was still fast asleep, limbs sprawled everywhere and snoring peacefully with his mouth wide open. He grinned, having an idea, and he gently picked the anomaly up from his bed and placed her on Stan’s bed, just by his legs.

As Ford got dressed for the day, he watched as the anomaly pawed at the blankets and then walked up to Stan’s face, then sat and watched him for a moment. Ford had to bite his lip to keep from laughing when the anomaly lifted a soft beanie paw and gently smacked Stan’s nose, playing like she had found a ball. By the time Ford was fully dressed the anomaly had climbed up to Stan’s chest and sat close to his face, happy to only watch him sleep.

The sudden weight on his chest stirred him and Stan groggily opened his eyes and was shocked to find two large baby-blue eyes staring closely at him. “ARG!” He yelled and sat up quickly, making the anomaly jump down from the bed and hide under the bed.

Ford laughed good-naturedly while Stan growled in his throat and put on his glasses. “Ford!”

“Good morning, Stanley.”

“What is that thing still doing here, I thought she was only staying just for the night!”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll leave once we leave.” Ford reasoned as the anomaly slowly crept out from under the bed and rubbed herself against Ford’s legs.

Stan grunted, not sure if he should believe his wishy-washy brother, but it was too early to fight this battle, so he yawned and popped his back and made his way upstairs to make coffee.

The anomaly followed Ford everywhere he went. When he went upstairs, so did she. When Ford sat at the table, she hopped onto it. He smiled and got up for a second, seeing how she turned her nose at his coffee, and he poured her a small plate of milk. She happily lapped it up while the twins sipped their coffee and went over their plans for the day, one purposely ignoring her and the other occasionally petting her or scratching her behind the ear.

About an hour later Stan and Ford were ready to leave for some sightseeing while at Iceland’s capital. The anomaly followed them out of the cabin of the boat and hopped on the wall of the Stan O’ War II and watched them walk away. Ford even waved her goodbye, not sure if this would be the last time he would ever see her or not. Again, it was totally fine if she decided to leave. But the fact remained that Ford would be immensely grateful if he found her still on their boat when they returned.

Stan privately decided that it was best to get his brother’s mind off that little menace, so hopefully when they left the dock and set sail tomorrow morning they could leave this whole ordeal behind them. The two brothers had a good time cracking jokes and laughing as they visited historical sights, museums, and other amazing things the capital had to offer about their culture and history. For lunch they sat at the park with warm sandwiches and listened to a street performer sing and beat a drum about a mountain troll wanting to get married.

Having seen everything they had wanted to see, Ford and Stan decided to head to the Stan O’ War early and leave the docks before dinner. Ford was a little disheartened to find the anomaly no longer on the wall of the Stan O’ War, which again, was fine. She was a wild animal and could do whatever she wanted. And no, Ford was not upset over the fact that she wanted to move on.

So why on Earth was he so jubilant, could feel his heart do a cartwheel of joy in his chest, why he grinned so happily, at the sight of her on one of the lounge chairs, bathing in the sunshine and only awoke because she sensed someone’s presence and she smiled up at him and went to rub against his legs again.

Ford picked her up and held her close to his chest, alone with her since Stan had gone inside to start on dinner and probably didn’t even know she was here. The old scientist sat in the lounge chair and petted his new pet softly, making her purr against his hold.

“You’ll need a proper name, my dear.” Ford thought out-loud. To help decide which best suited her, he listed some names out to see if they sounded right for her. “Luna? Ivy? Amber? Periwinkle? Maybe something more sophisticated, like Alessandra? Stella?” Ford tilted his head to the side as they looked at each other. She coped him curiously.

He chuckled and rubbed her head. “You are a strange anomaly. Hm… while Anomaly isn’t a suitable name, maybe something along those lines. Maybe… Molly? No, close, but you don’t quite look like a Molly, my dear. How about…” And then suddenly, he had it. Ford knew what to call her. It was perfect. It was unique, just like her. Ford smiled peacefully at her and settled with, “Amalia. I’ll call you Amalia from now on.”

“Alright, Sixer, we ready to set… oh, great.” Stan stopped when he saw who Ford was with and he glared at the strange anomaly.

“Say hello to Amalia, Stanley.” Ford said happily and held her up to him to see. She poked her little tongue out at him.

Stan glared at his brother. “Amalia? You named it?!”

“Yes. So? Is there a problem?” Ford asked with a raised eyebrow, bringing Amalia back to his lap, a little tired of Stan’s cold attitude.

“Stanford, you’re not supposed to name it.” He growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Once you name it, you start getting attached to it! Now get it off the boat, we’re leaving now.”

Ford looked down at Amalia, who was curled up in his arms, and then back up at his brother firmly. He hated to push him, but this was important to him and he genuinely felt like Stan was being unfair. “No.”

Stan blinked at his twin. “I’m sorry?”

“No,” Ford said calmly. “Stanley, please. I think she wants to stay, and I want her to stay. Yes, she is probably a wild animal and can take care of herself, but she shouldn’t have to. Why should she when she could have a loving family who takes care of her? I know you’re a little apprehensive that she’ll turn on us, but as my brother I’m asking that you trust me and let me keep her. Please.”

Stan stared, no longer visibly angry. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Ford. He did, more than anyone, and if someone who used to not trust anyone found this little ankle biter worthy of his hard-earned trust, then Stan had to give that little fur-ball some credit. Not to mention that Stan could remember a time when the tables were turned and someone had agreed to help keep a certain possum a secret. At the memory Stan couldn’t help but smile.

He sighed, rubbed the back of his neck, and admitted defeat. “Fine, she can stay. But she’s your pet, which means you feed her and clean up after her, you keep her out of my stuff, and if one day we wake up missing a finger or an eye, I’m blaming you.”

Ford grinned; he could see right through Stan’s tough-guy persona. “Thank you, Stanley. You won’t regret it.” He stood and hurried off the boat. “I’ll go buy some supplies for her before we leave! Thank you!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stan muttered, shaking his head. He couldn’t believe how happy his brother had looked when given permission to keep that little gremlin. Stan hadn’t seen Sixer that happy since they first began their adventure.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford couldn’t find a pet store within close range, but he did find a convenient store that might have the bare minimum he was looking for. Cans of meat, maybe a soft bed, toys, a brush, etc. Though there was no sign saying “No Pets Allowed,” Ford wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t allowed to bring Amalia inside with him, so he decided to play it safe and hide her in his hoodie.

At first she was tucked in by his chest, her tiny claws clinging to his sweater with no pain to his skin, but Amalia soon climbed up his neck and he had to put his hood up to hide her. She made her way up the right side of Ford’s neck, curling around the back of his head, and resting her front half by his left shoulder, giving Ford a small, furry scarf around the back of his neck, and curling up for another short nap.

And no, Ford was not crying next to the shelves of cat litter.

pt.2

#GF #gravity falls #fanfiction #gift #ford pines #stan pines #sea grunks #amalia #anomaly pet #CUTE!!!#fluff #mostly fluff #and a little fluff #more to come... probably #I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!!#Thanks for reading!

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missdawnandherdusk · 5 years ago

Text

A Silent Night

Hufflepuff!Reader X Draco

Am I allowed to look at her like that? Could it be wrong When she's just so nice to look at?

I'd never tell No, I'd never say a word And oh, it aches But it feels oddly good to hurt

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Summary: Winter break promises soft moments in the snow and laughter... or does it? There’s a darkness looming ahead and it’s harder to escape now than ever before. It doesn’t help at all with how you two feel about another.

A/N: Alright! Y’all told me to follow my heart so here’s about 7k words of a winter holiday that has fluff and angst. Also She by Dodie was on repeat as I wrote this (the lyrics are above). If you’re like me and need music to read, give that song a shot. Also I 100% stan Narcissa in this chapter. There were a lot more cute moments I wanted to add, and rewrote a lot of this, so if you want a headcanon list of things that were going to happen let me know! (Welcome to Christmas in the middle of the summer)

Miss Y/n,

It delights me that you have invited us to your home for the holiday. Draco speaks adamantly about you whenever his father is not around. I must apologize for having him keep you from his father’s knowledge. I know it pains him to have to keep you hidden, but I fear at the moment it is for the best.

I must thank you for your understanding and kindness. The burden that he bears is steep and I wish nothing more to see him through it and to keep him safe. You have taken years off of his eyes and heart and now I can begin see my young son shining through.

Draco and I will accompany you for the holiday. Lucius will be away all of the winter holiday and I feel as if it would do Draco some good to see you as it aided him over the summer holiday. I have written a letter to your mother as well, so she is aware. Draco will arrive in the morning of the 24th and I shall join him later in the evening for dinner.

You are a bright and wonderful young wizard with a heart so pure to see what I see in my son. The same thing that keeps us both fighting for him. Thank you for everything you have given. I am in your debt for bringing back my son even for a little while.

Narcissa Malfoy

I read the letter again as I sat in bed late at night. Tomorrow would be the day that Draco came for Christmas and butterflies had a permanent residence in my chest. I put the energy to good use and spent the few days scrubbing the entire house top to bottom and decorating every square inch. Mother taught me a few new cleaning spells to use and I was getting pretty good at them.

The morning came and I was up before the sun making sure that everything was perfect for when Draco would get here. Not that I thought he would judge me for anything out of place, but I had a sinking feeling that he hadn’t had a proper Christmas in a while, and I wanted things to be almost perfect if not completely.

Keeping myself busy with peeling and cutting apples for a pie, I heard the doorbell ring and almost tripped on my way to opening it.

Draco was there, an amused smile on his face as his eyes darted over my form.

“Hi,” I breathed out, grinning.

“Hello,” His expression was amused and his voice quiet. “Nice apron,”

I flushed, remembering I donned my grandmothers cooking apron that had tiny little snitches buzzing about the fabric.

It wasn’t fair that he looked so angelic on my front porch, almost at home among the snow. He was a bit more formal than I was used to seeing him: a blazer and turtleneck all in dark colors. It only enhanced the contrast of his pale features and the snow. I led him inside, closing the door. Shedding his jacket and setting down his bag, he followed me to the kitchen where I continued to chop apples. He took one, unpeeled from my pile and took a bite.

“Those are mine,” I baited. “Now you have to help,” As if it were the only option.

“Oh, I do? Do I?” He smirked, taking another bite and grabbing a knife.

He watched me for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure what to do before he began to slice the apples the way I did, narrowly missing his fingers a few times. I tried hard not to laugh as I finished chopping up two to his half of one.

It earned me a small pout from him. Laughing this time, I pecked his cheek and took our harvest and a large bowl filled with the rest of the filling ingredients and tossed them in, mixing them with my hands until they were all incorporated evenly. Draco studied me all the while.

“Can you hand me a pie crust from the fridge?” I asked, rinsing my hands. Frowning at the refrigerator he opened it and scanned the shelves.

“Middle shelf, blue ceramic,” I hinted.

He pulled the right dish out and set it on the counter. I lifted the bowl of filling and started to pan it into the doughy crust.

“Here,” I nudged him and nodded to the precut strips of dough on the counter. “We weave them to make a lattice.”

I showed him how to do the first few then left him to it, watching his slender fingers with such care create the woven pattern. Taking a fork, I pressed down the sides of the dough, sealing them then placing the pie in the fridge to be baked later.

“I think that was the most muggle thing I’ve ever done,” he muttered softly, pulling me into his arms properly for the first time since he arrived.

“Not too bad I hope?”

“Nothing unbearable,” he teased.

“Oh, Draco,” my mother greeted making us jump apart. “I didn’t hear you come in darling,”

“Mrs. Y/l/n,” Draco greeted politely.

“It’s so nice of you to join us. Y/n has hardly been able to keep quiet about your arrival,”

I flushed red and rolled my eyes nonchalantly and Draco chuckled, offering his hand for my mother to shake.

“Thank you for the invitation,” I recognized the tone he use: the same one that was present at the Ball from the summer, the one he used when he had someone to impress.

“None of that, really,�� My mother scoffed pulling him into a hug that made me laugh. “You’re family here,” She insisted the turned to me. “Well cookies still need to be made before tonight, Y/n you know what to do. I’ll be out for a bit,” my mother gave me a hug before hurrying out the door.

“Cookies?” Draco mused sounding unsure.

I grinned and took out the ingredients to make sugar cookies from scratch and taught Draco how to make them. He padded around my small kitchen in cashmere socks. It warmed my heart to see him so domestic.

Rolling out the dough, I started to press the cookie cutters into the thin confectionary and Draco crowded next to me, taking another cutter and stamping the dough. Preheating the oven, I left him to cut out the little shapes as I began to work on peeling potatoes and sweet potatoes.

“Don’t you have house elves?” He asked, leaning against the counter, finishing his apple, watching me.

“No,” I spoke softly. “Father never liked the notion, and I guess mother kept it that way...” I took a breath in. “And these skills aren’t the worst things to know,” I smiled. “Will you start dicing these?” I gestured to the peeled potatoes with my peeler.

“I suppose,” He mused, picking up the same knife we had used for apples and began to cut the potatoes into small cubes.

When the oven went off, I got up and slipped as many trays of cookies as I could into the oven and set the timer. Throwing the cubed potatoes into a pot, I filled it with water about half-way and set it on the stove to boil.

Draco followed me around the kitchen all morning, helping where he could, confused about some things I did, but there was an explanation for everything. Around lunchtime my mother returned, arms filled with parcels and packages. Last minute shopping I supposed. She shooed us out of the kitchen and outside after lunch.

After a short argument��I didn’t see a need for things like gloves, a scarf or a beanie, but Draco put his foot down and bundled me up—Draco and I were both clad in winter gear and walking outside along the few acres that my mother and I shared together. Our hands intertwined; we didn’t speak much, just enjoyed the quiet moment together. The butterflies in my chest fluttered happily.

“Want to let Pinnae fly?” He asked, thoughtful.

“Maybe later,” I leaned against him. “Don’t wanna fly when you’re still on the ground,”

I caught his eyeroll in the corner of my vision and the redness on his cheeks darken slightly.

“My mother is quiet taken with you; you know.” Draco gave off-hand.

I hummed in acknowledgement thinking of the letter sitting on my bedside table. We meandered around the grounds, heading back to the front porch and inside to warm up.

“Reading anything riveting?” Draco teased as we curled up in the den by the fire.

I laughed softly and stood, taking his hand. I ignored his questioning and led him to the room adjacent from mine: my studio. The entire back wall was covered in floor to ceiling bookshelves holding all of the books, both muggle and wizarding, I had collected over the years.

_________________________________

Draco stared at the wall of books and trinkets. Some he recognized: old textbooks from prior years and items like a Sneakscope and Timeturner. Some things were clearly muggle: the pictures that didn’t move or the snow-globes that weren’t enchanted.

He had never seen so many muggle books resting so peacefully next to wizarding books. Some were new and the gold leaf still shined at him whereas others were dull and faded and he could barely make out the titles. Carefully he ran his fingers over the spine of the nearest book.

“Pride and Prejudice?” He muttered, frowning looking at the cluster of Jane Austen books.

“Sense and Sensibility is better,” You mumbled, and his eyes flickered to the well-worn book beside its sister. “And it’s too complicated for me to try and pay attention to right now. Get out of Jane Austen,” You advised, pulling him a bit further down.

“Of Mice and Men?” He mused, looking at the smaller book that was also well worn.

“Ugh,” You scoffed. “Awful ending.”

“Then why are you keeping it?” He gave you a pointed look.

“Not all books have happy endings, it would be stupid to only keep the ones that did,” You whispered softly.

His eyes followed the names of the books not being able to distinguish one from another— Animal Farm, The Princess Bride, Catcher in the Rye, Lord of the Flies, The Great Gatsby, The Scarlett Letter, The Crucible, The Phantom of the Opera, Fahrenheit 451. His eyes passed over your Chronicles of Narnia collection, one book missing—the one that he had.

“Romeo and Juliet?” His eyebrows furrowed.

The name was familiar to him for some reason. The book nested between Taming of the Shrew and Macbeth.

A laugh bubbled through your lips, a quiet amused sound.

“That’s worse than Pride and Prejudice,” You giggled. “Have you ever read Shakespeare?”

His eyes flashed to yours. You knew that answer. No, of course he hadn’t. Rolling your eyes, you took the book of the shelf and flipped to a random page of the wellworn book.

“Tis but thy name that is my enemy;

Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.

What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,

Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part

Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!

What's in a name? that which we call a rose

By any other name would smell as sweet;”

You looked at him and he blinked, his mind unravelling the words. It was almost worse than Divination books.

“They’re plays,” You explained. “Takes a lot of studying and there are versions that have a bit more updated English, but well,” You shrugged and slipped the book back into its place.

“Are they all like that?” He asked, looking at the row of Shakespeare books.

“Pretty much,” You sighed. “Here,” You reached across him and next to your Austen books, pulled out a book. “This should be a good book to read.”

“A Christmas Carol?” He read the title off the faded cover.

“It’s a classic,” You took his hand again and he let you lead him downstairs and back to the small sitting room with the lit fire and curled up on the couch under an afghan.

You began to read A Christmas Carol, and again he was lost in your words and expressions:

“Marely was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. And Scrooge’s name was good upon ’Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to.

Old Marley was as dead as a doornail.

Mind! I don’t mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country’s done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a doornail”

Just as you began to read of the first ghost that came to Scrooge on Christmas Eve, your mother came into the small den.

“Y/n, Draco’s mother will be here within the hour, you need to get ready,” She eyed your casual attire of jeans and an oversized sweater.

You huffed and handed Draco the book, he kept the page and watched you head upstairs, sulking only slightly. It was such a you thing to do—complaining about being taken away from your book and forced to prepare to socialize.

Your mother hovered in the den and took a seat at the armchair adjacent to the sofa he resided on. He tensed, ready for backlash against the something he must have done wrong, but an amused smile reached your mother’s lips—one that he had seen on you more than a fair share of times. You didn’t look much like your mother, the only thing Draco found was that you two shared the same smile.

“I have to thank you Draco,” She spoke softly. “She is my entire world since her father passed, and I always feared that she would never let herself open up. You have done her a lot of good, and I know that her father would approve of you,” There was your smile on her lips again.

“I must thank you as well,” Draco spoke in the same soft manor. “For allowing her to be with me and for Pinnae. I know she probably would have found a way to do it anyway, but it means the world to her to have your support, as it does to me,” His eyes met the same shade as your eyes as he looked up—another similarity. “And I must apologize for the last month of summer. I thought I was keeping her safe by keeping her away,”

“All is forgiven, darling,” The pet name on your mother’s lips reminded him of his own mother’s habit. “Merlin knows I’ve tried to keep her from things to keep her safe... but she has a way of finding herself there anyway,”

“She is stubborn like that,” Draco mused, thinking of the first night that he knew of your Animagus.

“Yes, she is,” Your mother sighed.

“Is she staying healthy?” He asked. “I know she has a habit of not keeping warm,”

Your mother mulled over the question then spoke.

“The winter has been affecting her more than before, she’s up half the night and sleeps half the day.” There was a soft sigh in her voice as worry blossomed in Draco’s chest at the new information. “She’s getting enough sleep and enough to eat, but I do worry about her. Ever since the change, she’s a bit more spontaneous in her sleeping habits.” The latter information pacified some of his worry.

“It’ll probably take some time for her to figure out,” He said mostly for his benefit. “But she won’t be alone in doing so,” He vowed.

“I know,” Your mother rose, smiling at him once more. “She might not have many friends, but the ones she does have are the most loyal I’ve ever seen,”

He nodded, thinking of Abby and even Pansy.

There was a chime from in the house and your mother rose heading to the foyer. Draco knew that it would be his mother at the door and stood as well. Greetings were made and just as your mother was about to call up to you, you descended the stairs, in a deep green dress he had never seen before. The fabric hugged you to your waist where it then flowed loosely to you knees. The long sleeves and high collar gave him comfort that you would be warm. The sheer black stockings you had paired with the dress seconded that comfort.

Draco gaped at you, deciding that he loved you in green. The night of the summer ball flashed in his mind and the green dress you wore then. He knew that it was stupid to give into house colors with you but Merlin you looked great in Slytherin colors.

“Mrs. Malfoy,” You greeted with the same decorum as the Ball.

“Miss Y/n,” His mother smiled. “It has been too long my dear,”

You flushed and looked down, coming to stand beside him, your hand slipping into his as your mother led the lot of you all into the dining room. It was just as immaculately decorated as the rest of the house, though nothing was overdone or gaudy. It was simple, classy.

Your mother must have taken over cooking to allow you to spend the rest of the day with him, explaining the heavenly smells that emitted from the kitchen all day. There was something different about the food at your home. It was a bit messy and not all of the dishes matched and not everything was perfect, but Draco almost preferred it that way. He had spent too long in perfection; it was nice to have something new.

His mother spoke respectfully to you, asking you about your classes this year and how they had gone. A few times he had to nudge you before you slipped up about Pinnae accidently. Draco would never get over how much his mother absolutely adored you. You had stolen into her heart the same way you had his. If only you could do the same with his father.

As dinner ended, you rose to clear the table, and he joined you, having never done such a thing in his life. You set things carefully on the clean counters of the kitchen and it only took a few trips to rid the table of dinner and replace it with dessert.

__________________________________

I kept my eye on Draco all throughout dinner, worried that something might go wrong. Narcissa proved to be no trouble and his father was never in the topic of discussion. I still knew that Draco missed his father the same way that I missed mine on the holidays.

“Well, I must thank you for your hospitality, but I’m afraid I must be off now,” Narcissa rose gracefully with a kind smile. “Draco, be home before too long yes?”

Draco gave a curt nod as my mother saw Narcissa to the door. Draco slumped beside me, both of our facades falling.

“Well, that could have been worse,” I mused.

He chuckled and rubbed his face. I could see the weariness in his features.

“Dray?” I asked softly.

“When did everything get so complicated?” He mumbled.

I sighed and laid my head on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and wrapped an arm around me.

“At least there’s presents? And Christmas? And us?” I offered. He hummed in acknowledgment.

Now that it was the Christmas season, I could officially watch The Sound of Music—a Christmas classic at home.

Draco studied me as I set up the DVR and hit play, curling up beside him on the couch. Since it was winter, the sun had set some time ago, leaving us in a soft darkness. The credits began to roll, and I laid my head on Draco’s shoulder, curling under an afghan.

“This is ridiculous,” He muttered halfway through.

I shushed him. I felt him sigh as his arm draped around my shoulders.

“Are you two ready?” My mother asked, coming in with three mugs.

“Ready?” Draco murmured in my ear as I sat up.

“Presents?” I grinned. “We do them on Christmas Eve, it’s our tradition. Then we undecorate on Christmas Day.”

“What?”

“Her father always insisted that as soon as Christmas is over all the decorations should come down. So, we take them down tomorrow.” My mother explained, handing us both mugs.

With the parcels covered in shiny paper distributed, I watched Draco marvel at the number of gifts in his lap. I nudged his shoulder letting him know that it was alright to start.

I started with my mother’s present to me—a new cloak that was a silvery white, matching Pinnae’s feathers. I thanked her and undid the recognizable paper from Abby’s gift. It was a leather-bound photo album. Frowning, I opened the cover and saw Abby and I as little kids dressed up as princesses. I smiled at the photo and ran my hand over the giggling girls. I looked over to Draco, wanting to show him and I paused; he was lost deep in the delicate pages of my gift to him: the entire Narnia collection in one leather bound book.

“It’s charmed,” I explained softly. “If it’s not me or you to open the book it reverts to an old book of spells,”

“Really?” He sounded surprised, not looking up from the carpet pages of finely detailed artwork.

“Mom helped me with the magic,” I stole a glance her way and she was beaming at us.

She stood quietly and gave me a look, leaving us alone in the den to have a few last moments alone.

“You mean you didn’t read me the first book?” He muttered.

“Well, you walked in on me reading the second one,” I poked his side. “Here, this is from Abby,” I placed the photo album between us.

I opened the first page and he laughed at the picture of Abby and I. “You were such a dorky kid,” He chuckled.

“Yeah well,” I rolled my eyes.

The next page was our first day at Hogwarts, my hair was still impossibly long as Abby and I sat together on the Hogwarts Express. I laughed and pointed out Draco sulking in the background of the photo.

“Creep,” I teased.

The photos were a mix of muggle and magic, some moving, some static. Abby and I through the years: getting sorted into Hufflepuff, Christmases, summer vacations. Then there was a page that didn’t hold a photo, but a note:

From Ernie, Blaise, Hannah, Emme, Pansy and me~

The next page held a photo Draco and I at the third task, sitting in the stands. I felt secondhand awkwardness from the two of us in the photo. It was minutes before my entire world ended... or had just begun. The next photo was two of us in the hospital wing, fast asleep in each other’s arms. I ran my fingers over the photo.

Draco took the book from my hands and studied the photos, drawing the album closer to his face. I looked over his shoulder as he slowly flipped through the pages. Each of them was dated and titled:

Draco chasing off after Y/n, Yule Ball, June 21st

Draco and Y/n, Yule Ball, June 21st

Hogwarts Express, Draco and Y/n are prefects, Sept 1st

Draco staring at Y/n and smiling, Sept 13th

Draco and Y/n walking down the hall Sept 19th

Hogsmeade Trip, Oct 5th

Halloween, Hufflepuff Common Room, Oct 31st

Gryffindor v Slytherin Quidditch match, Nov 2nd

Draco fighting Harry, Nov 2nd

Y/n worrying over Draco after the fight, Nov 2nd

Draco and Y/n sleeping together again, Nov 3rd

Late night studying, Dec 12th

Draco and Pinnae, Dec 18th

There was another note at end along with the picture of the four of us the day Pansy found out about Pinnae in the snow:

Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light.

Tears well in my eyes as I rested my chin on Draco’s shoulder. He flipped a few pages back and untucked the photo of us sleeping together in the hospital wing. His slender fingers brushed over it before slipping it into the middle of his new book.

“That’s mine,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to his neck softly.

“Not anymore,” He smiled. “You have good friends,”

“We have good friends,” I corrected him softly, wrapping my arms around his neck.

“We do,” He shifted, closing the book and setting it with his before reaching into his coat and pulling out a small satin box. “This is from me,”

I stared at the box and with a shaking hand I took it, thumbing it open. Inside was a small locket with a shifting roaring lion engraved onto the front of it and familiar words onto the back:

“He isn’t safe, but he is good,” was written in a delicate script.

“Draco, I can’t take this,” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes at the emotions that rushed in my chest at the thought and love he put into the small gift.

“You can,” He pressed. “And will. Here,” He took it from my hands and released the locking mechanism.

A scene sprung to life before me, a halo of light. Balanced on top was a forest with dancing fawns and dwarves and centaurs around a bonfire. Lyre and flute music radiated from the scene. The sight shifted to a lion roaring atop a broken stone table. Then to a familiar ship on the high seas with a dragon circling it. A battle between a man and a snake in front of a silver chair. Then again, a lion, standing tall, proud.

“Draco,” I whimpered out, closing the locket and throwing my arms around his neck. “Thank you, thank you,” Tears fell down my cheeks as I buried my face in his shoulder.

His arms curled around me as he pulled me close.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen, or what the future holds,” He murmured. “But don’t give up on me.”

“Never,” I vowed. “Course he’s not safe,” I pulled away, running a hand through his hair. “But he is good. He is king,” My fingers softly stroked his cheek.

With the locket hung around my heck, Draco and I curled up together, watching the end the Sound of Music. My fingers toyed with the locket, rubbing over it again and again, afraid that it might just disappear.

I had to bid him a good night as the hour got later and we were together on the front porch alone. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He responded immediately and pulled me close deepening the kiss, his hot breath mixing with mine. He tasted like tea and apple pie, a sweet intoxicating flavor.

Draco’s hand slipped down to the small of my back, pressing me against the warmth of his body. My fingers tangled and tugged at his hair earning a low throaty sound to emit from his chest. I responded with a soft mewl.

He pulled away, his hot breaths panting across my face.

“Happy Christmas,” He breathed out.

“Mhmm,” I hummed out. “Christmas, yeah,”

He chuckled and pressed his lips back to mine fleetingly.

“Goodnight, Feathers,”

“Night, Dray,”

___________________________________

Draco melted into his bed that night, watching the photo of you and him sleeping peacefully. There was an amity about the both of you, there was no worry or fear on his face and yours was smiling softly as you clung to him even in your sleep. It was almost as good as the book you had given to him.

Your mother’s present was lying beside him on the bed. He wasn’t supposed to show it to you, your mother had said: it was your father’s wand.

He sighed and looked at the note that came with it:

Draco,

This was her father’s wand. She doesn’t know that I still have it. And she doesn’t know that it belongs to you as soon as you turn sixteen.

Lucius Malfoy killed Walter Y/l/n.

Lucius forfeited the wand, but it will respond to you. It has been a burden to me all of these years but perhaps it can find some peace with you. This is a secret that I share with you. This wand is unique: it knows to protect her, and it is loyal to you.

Keep her safe, I pass her and this wand to you, one Slytherin to another. You will always have a home in among this family.

He sighed and laid back in bed, twirling the wand in his hands. It was similar to his own in length. Birch with a unicorn hair. He wanted to be bitter towards your mother for keeping this secret from you, but the words she said earlier stopped him:

“Merlin knows I’ve tried to keep her from things to keep her safe...”

Was this keeping you safe? This secret that he now held? He knew that if nothing else, it had kept you a pure heart. He couldn’t imagine you’d ever give him a chance if you knew what his father did. He wondered what would have changed...

The morning came along with the small Christmas that he and his mother shared together. It was a quiet affair. He had gotten her a new bottle of ink and a golden quill for her drawings.

“This is from your father,” Her tone held disdain as she handed him a small velvet box. “It belonged to his father and now he passes it to you.”

Nested inside was nothing like the gift he had spent months making for you. Instead it was a weighty silver ring with the Malfoy crest on it. Slipping it onto his finger, the enchantment took place and resized to fit him perfectly.

“Any word of when he will return?” Draco asked, somber.

“January 10th.” His mother sighed.

Draco nodded and drifted to the sitting room that held his piano and began to play familiar Christmas melodies before shifting into his mother’s favorites. She sat behind him on the sofa, working on her embroidery as he played. His melody shifted into something new. He frowned, knowing that it wasn’t anything that he had learned before.

“Composing?” His mother mused.

He didn’t comment. Instead he chased the melody that was fading from his mind, desperate to bring it back. Then he realized that his mind was chasing after you. You were his melody. With you at the forefront of his thoughts, he spent the next few days playing and writing the composition down. When he was certain that it was perfect and represented everything that you were to him, he smiled to himself.

Draco could still have you when his father was home. He would have no idea the melody was wrapped up in you.

“It’s beautiful,” His mother commended. “She’ll love it. You can play it for her tomorrow when she visits,”

And he did. With you sitting beside him on the piano bench, he played your song to you. You were absolutely mesmerized and asked him to play it again. Without knowing it, you had taken something else his father had forced him into and turned it into something beautiful.

Sitting in the rose garden as the stars came out, the year changed. A new beginning, and you were beside him. It was a muggle tradition, but he did kiss you when midnight came. Not that you’d complain.

When you pulled away from the gentle kiss, he about said something that he had forbidden himself from ever saying. No matter how sweet you were, how kind, how long you stayed, how loyal, no matter how much he cared for you, missed you when you were gone, and vowed to keep you safe, he couldn’t say what he wanted to.

He couldn’t tell you that he loved you.

He couldn’t trap you like that. He knew his future was dark and it loomed over him. He wasn’t going to tie you to him like that.

____________________________________

I held my tongue, a thousand confessions waiting to be unfurled. But I would wait. I would wait until Draco was ready to hear them. I didn’t let myself think that a few months would change everything that had him tied down and scared. I wouldn’t coerce him into anything. I would give him time to figure out his emotions and I would wait for him to heal.

Because I loved him.

And I would love him while I waited. I would love him while he healed. I would love him as he went through darkness and despair. I would love him as years of neglect and abuse untied him. I would love him until he was ready to love me.

So, I didn’t say a word.

I spent the next week over at Draco’s, like I had in the summer, but this time, we were working on spells. Everything that I had learned from D.A. I taught to him. His mother suggested to invite Pansy and Abby over as well during the afternoons to join our efforts.

It was a lot easier to cast Disarming and Stunning spells on Pansy and Abby than it had been on Draco. Narcissa joined us one afternoon, watching us, guiding and aiding where we were failing. Draco was losing focus too easily, Pansy needed to work on her wand movements, Abby needed to pronunciate more and I needed to put my heart behind wanting to perform the spells.

“You’re thinking about them incorrectly.” Narcissa stood behind me. “Think not about the intention to attack what’s in front of you, but to protect what’s behind you. Draco, come,”

Narcissa and Draco switched places, he was standing behind me and she was before me, her wand out and raised. I took a deep breath in, understanding what she meant. I had no ill will against her, but I would protect Draco.

We bowed, entering a proper duel. She cast a hex and I blocked it easily, before rebounding it with my own jinx. She deflected it effortlessly and almost knocked me down with a Stunning spell.

“Mean it Y/n!” She coached. “You want to protect him!? You want to save him!?”

“Mother!” Draco argued.

“No,” I panted softly. “I can do this. She’s right,”

I blocked her jinx that in my deflection almost hit Draco, who dropped out of the way thankfully. Enraged I turned back to her.

“Impedimenta!” I shouted.

And it worked.

She was frozen in the snow.

“Expelliarmus!”

Her wand flew from her hand. Beaming, I undid the Impediment Hex and picked up her wand which had landed in the frost by my feet.

“Very well, my dear,” Narcissa glowed. “There is a fighter in you yet,”

Draco picked me up in a twirling hug and Pansy and Abby were all cheering. We went back to dueling, now it was more for fun than work. Narcissa watched us still, encouraging and teaching us. Until she tensed, the color draining from her face.

“Bellatrix,” She hissed, vanishing from the backyard.

Draco cursed and grabbed my hand, pulling me behind the nearest shrub. With the cloak that my mother had given to me for Christmas, I almost blended in with the snow. Pansy and Abby were crouched down with us.

“Y/n, you need to get out of here,” Draco’s eyes were fixed on the house. “Now.”

“But what about Abby?” I squeaked.

“She’ll be fine,” Pansy nodded to me. “Bella likes me, she’ll be safe with me,” I met Pansy’s stark green eyes and an agreement passed between us.

Nodding, I tried to keep my breathing under control.

“Pinnae!” Abby whispered at me as if it were obvious. “Get out of here Y/n!”

I looked at my friends and closed my eyes, morphing into Pinnae and taking perch deep within the shrub.

“Don’t go until we’ve cleared the house.” Draco ordered.

I chirped and watched them all head towards the house, disappearing inside. Then I took off into the sky.

_____________________________

“Draco, darling,” Bellatrix cooed wickedly. “You remind me so much of your father,”

“Aunt Bellatrix,” He greeted politely.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce me to your little friends?” Her wild eyes flashed to Pansy and Abby.

“Bella,” His mother chided. “Draco was just seeing them off. And you know Parkinson. The other is a classmate.” Her voice left no room for more questions or argument.

His mother gave him a stern look and he quickly ushered Pansy and Abby through the front door. His eyes immediately scanned the skies for you. He thought he could make out your form perched on one of the barren trees, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Pansy,” He started.

“I’ve got it. Abby will talk to Pinnae. We’ll give word that she’s safe.”

Draco nodded and headed back inside, pacing the halls. He headed to his bedroom and slammed the door, casting a Silencing Charm on the room before letting out a roar of frustration. He didn’t know how much time passed as he paced the room but jumped when there was a chirp from his window.

He relaxed when he saw that the owl wasn’t you, but a screech owl, a letter tied to it’s ankle.

~ Malfoy,

Pinnae is home.

Parkinson

Draco sagged in relief and threw the letter into the fire lit in his hearth. Just once in his life he wanted a day where nothing would go wrong. He just wanted to be happy and safe with you. Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, it was for the last few days of the winter holiday.

Epilogue:

“The Dark Lord is adamant about his recruitment,” Bellatrix purred. “A fine young mind to mold into the ways of the Dark Lord.”

“He is my son, Bellatrix.” Narcissa snarled. “He is not of age until the summer. When that time comes the choice belongs to him and him alone. Until then, you have no business here,” A cold glare passed between them.

“Do I sense disloyalty?” Bellatrix tilted her head, mocking a pout. “The Dark Lord does not tolerate disloyalty, sister mine,”

“I do not belong to the Dark Lord, sister mine,” Narcissa gritted out. “Or have you forgotten?”

“No,” She scoffed. “A foolish mistake. Who else deserves loyalty but him?”

“My family,” Narcissa snapped. “And my son.”

“I am your family!” Bellatrix shouted. “Have you changed your mind about the war perhaps? Deciding to follow the footsteps of our dear sister? Or perhaps our outlawed cousin? You were admirable little sister, before you went off and married that foolish Malfoy.”

“I will not stand here and allow you to speak of my husband or my son in such a manner. You have no business here Bellatrix. Leave this place.” Narcissa’s tone was ice cold.

“His time will come Cissy, and he will belong to the Dark Lord,”

A loud crack and Narcissa was left alone in the cold house once more.

“I wouldn’t be so certain,” She whispered to the empty room.

Chapter 5

End Note: Please let me know what you think! Your words and reblogs are so important to me always! Don’t be afraid to reblog and comment! I’m nice I swear!

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87 @artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @dolphincommander @bisexualbumblebeesstuff @fuzzy-panda@bitemebro522 @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey@theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi@katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte@mccloudchloe @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @go-whovian-universe @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco @the--queen-of-hell @langdonzvoid @cmxreader

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pumpkinpot · 4 years ago

Text

Hoshi

A/N: this is part of the Citrus Dome Sci-Fi collab. this is also pure fluff. no smut, no real angst. just spooky summer vibes and poly love. I hope you enjoy. (I’m sorry for grammatical errors in advance.)

synopsis: since beginning your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou and Ochako Uraraka you’ve developed a love for exploring abandon places with them whenever you three have time to explore. This time, so happens to land on a derelict observatory. (additional head canons for this story on my tik tok under pumpkinpots)

“It says here it was abandoned in the mid-nineteenth century due to the spike in light pollution with the growth of the city,” you say, pointing to the dome at the peak of the building. “All of the mobile telescopes were transferred to the university's observatory, while this placed rotted away.

Uraraka half listens, levitating sheetrock from the doorway and discarding them in the nearby field.

“Why just abandon it?” Katsuki asks, fiddling with varying lenses in his camera bag. “Couldn’t this have been a museum or something?”

“Yeah,” you agree, shifting a glance to make sure Uraraka doesn’t need help. “It looks like it was bought by a merchant in the eighties who wanted to turn it into a house, but he was indicted for tax evasion before the renovations ever finished. It hasn’t been touched since.”

He scoffs with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Rich idiots.”

Uraraka brushes specks of dust off her palms across her cut-off shorts before urging us alone. “Shall we?”

It takes two and a half pushes to nudge the door wide enough to squeeze through. The observatory opens to us with a groan of whining metal and the scratch of loose dirt on concrete.

Centered in the main foyer, a gaping mural of blue and white cobblestone depicts a dusty map of astrology stars.

Katsuki has to be coaxed with a promise to be flashed to pose under the Taurus constellation for a picture, meanwhile, Uraraka floats just above Pisces with a cute puffy cheeked expression.

Names, small sayings, and symbols decorate the wall in vibrant graffiti, the place a cocktail of color and wild Ivy.

"It's a lot more lit than I thought I'd be," Uraraka says, stuffing her flashlight into her bag.

Katuski keeps the light attached to his camera lit as he weaves in and out of rooms, zooming in on old books and broken equipment.

We follow him through a puzzle of what seemed to be living quarters and small classrooms, ending in a half oval auditorium.

At the center of the stage a white globe balances on a pillar of cement.

“What’s this?” Uraraka asks.

You touch where someone had attempted to derail the sphere like a baseball before trailing your eyes above the layered seating. “It's a projector ball. Technicians would likely project light from there into the ball to make it seem like the planet or star they were studying. That's why it's,” you knock on the sphere's cool solid surface. “Crystal.”

Uraraka shines her phone’s light into it, the shattered pieces reflecting shapes in a dim glow.

Katsuki points the camera into the orb, the bluish tint reminds you of the similar one in the abandoned lighthouse you’d explored with them two years ago. Though that one would have lit from the inside.

Quickly you explore the base and second levels, eager to get to the actual observatory. It's evident where the renovations to make this a home had been started and never finished. Small cracks in the floor, sealed with caulk, loose wooden planks pillaring knocked in walls.

It could have been a beautiful home, you think to yourself.

Up the second flight of stairs gradually more and more light fills the space until you are bathed in the orange glow of early dusk. A large open scare slits the dome, edging with rust and ivy. The circular room holds nothing of true value, nothing left behind but broken tables and a ladder to the viewing balcony tailing the opening of the dome.

“The big telescope that would have been here-” Uraraka says, fiddling with the screw holes in the floor, “- would have been a refracting telescope. It uses small bits of glass to magnify what you’re looking at, then is bent back through the telescope hitting the eyepiece. The other kind is a reflector,” she continues, “It's got a primary mirror at the bottom of the lens into a second mirror than a third eyepiece mirror. This one is mostly used to see the different parts of a star to see what it's made out of.”

Katsuki and you exchange looks of pure astonishment. "how do you know all this?" you ask.

She fishes a gum wrapper from one of the holes, tossing it to the side. “Before I was accepted into UA I was really considering going into astronomy. I thought it fit so well with my quirk, but the courses were too expensive.”

"More expensive than UA?" Katuski asks, refocusing his camera.

She nods, seeming just as dumbfounded as us.

“Do you think it could work on my explosions?”

“If you were in space maybe,” you hypothesize, “but in that case, we probably wouldn’t see it for a long while.”

He seems semi disappointed as if his evening plans had been somehow derailed.

You run your hands across the walls of the dome, dusk sun baking its metal frame like a soup pot.

For a moment you just watch them. It’d been so long since the opportunity arose for the three of you to go exploring. With you still temporarily stationed in the American hero commission and those two workings in Japan it was rare to find time to skype let alone go on adventures. You were lost in the bliss of having your partners so near without having to scream about a lost wifi connection when your hand hit something protruding from the wall.

“What are these?” you ask, inspecting circular gears attached to a crank.

“It looks like the wheel to turn the dome,” Uraraka says.

Katsuki zooms in on the puzzle of rigid plates. “This bitch turns?”

“Yeah, that slit doesn't move so the dome has to, to accommodate where in the sky they were looking.”

Katsuki fingers the gears a moment, mapping its track all across the sphere. He traces along the parts not layered in rust until he’s back at the start. “Do you think it still works?”

“Not without some serious lube and strong arms.”

“We’re one for two,” you suggest.

Katsuki hands over his camera to Uraraka, positioning himself opposite you to push the lever, while you pull left.

At first, the dial stays put, its stance unforgiving, but after a bit more pull than push a deafening whine reverberating through the entire observatory.

No visible move happens until the second crank roundabout when the shift of light against concrete becomes clear.

Katsuki’s eyes light with sheer amazement as the entire dome rotates around you. We are halfway through a full rotation before Uraraka shouts for you to stop.

You push on the lever stilling its movements as quickly as you can.

She holds a finger head tilted to the side. “Do you hear that?”

Your breath balloons in your chest as you lean in closer. The tiniest of whimpers echo around the dome from the viewing balcony.

One after another you file up the ladder, hopping on the edge of the dome. Balancing on the concrete crease between the moving track and the rest of the building you search for the sound.

“Here!” Uraraka yells from the other side.

You sprint as much as you dare, teetering along the two-story edge.

She squats over the body of a squirming animal, a tuft of fur caught in the track of the dome's rotation. She coddles its little frame, before reaching a hand out to you. “Y/n, your knife-”

Hesitantly you hand it over. She snips away the stuck pieces muttering thanks that none of the actual tail got caught. She folds the blade back into itself, pinching leaves and sticks from the animal's fur and tossing them over the side.

She holds it up, floppy ears and a black nose making it a nearly recognizable creature. A puppy.

He looks to be light brown, but that could be the soot.

Katsuki checks around the dome for any signs of a litter or mamma, before joining us with a shake of his head.

The pup squirms and with an open mouth, letting all sorts of noises tumble from his dirt-covered tongue.

Uraraka floats the puppy to the floor of the dome, as we file down the ladder. You empty the contents of your water bottle into a cup for drinking and the rest onto its back for cooling.

His fur peaks through white and brown spotted under layers of grime.

“Well,” Uraraka says, “we’ve been talking about wanting to expand our family.”

“I suppose there’s no better place to start,” you add, both of us looking to Katsuki for consensus.

He passes glances between the three of us. “Fine, but I get to name it.”

“Alright, but we get veto power.”

“Explosion-”

“Veto,” you say in unison.

He looks around puffy-lipped. “I didn't even get to finish.”

“Explosion nothing,” Uraraka clarifies.

He’s silent for a long moment looking around the space. “Hoshi?.”

“Star?” you confirm.

“This observatory was used to study the stars, wasn’t it?” He bats.

You and Uraraka exchange a satisfied, yet surprised look. You hadn’t expected something so- normal. This is after all the same man that made you name your golden pothos “boom boom boi” in his honor.

“I like it,” you say.

“Approved,” adds Uraraka.

We better take our picture before it gets too dark,” he says, turning away so you can’t see the blush on his cheeks. He switches out his filming camera for a smaller polaroid, propping it up on the edge of a broken table.

He runs back as the timer ticks down. He slides to your right side, Uraraka on your left. Their arms link behind you as you hold Hoshi up to your mid-chest. Clicking down from five you all give your cheesiest grins. A rectangular card spits from the bottom of the camera.

Ochaco shakes it a few times, swapping you a picture, for a puppy.

You wait for the picture to pixelate before opening the ninety-cent notebook of film slips and position it in the next available spot.

Urarka’s cut-off shorts and Katsuki's tanned shoulders are a stark contrast to the puffy blue coat and chunky knit beanie from the last abandoned mansion expedition last time. Before that, the three of us accidentally matched our windbreakers to Midoryia during a tour of The Ghost Candy Shop in Kyoto. We look like a group of tourists.

The small book seemed to be filling quickly despite the rareness of time to get away. Memories pile up from when it was just Uraraka and Katsuki to when you became a staple to their adventures. They’d given you responsibility for the book to garner your importance to them in their relationship until the reasoning for the gift became nothing more than routine. You were theirs, and they were yours.

Now a new member had sprouted in your little family, and if you squinted, you could imagine the rest of the pages being filled with the pup in aged years to maybe more as time goes on.

Right now, you were happy with the three and a half of you.

#bakugou x reader #uraraka x reader #bakugou x uraraka #ochako x reader #mha x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x y/n #Uraraka fluff #mha fluff

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nxrthmizu · 4 years ago

Note

Hi babie! Here for your event 👀 can I request a fluff with Daichi? 😩💜 my head has been FULL of this man. I see myself as a friendly person and I tend to be not awkward when talking to someone I’ve just met. You can also say that I have ambitions and clear goals of what I want my future to be like! But I have very low confidence level. It’s very hard to get my confidence up there but very easy for it to plummet down. Thank you for doing this babie! Congratulations again 💓💓

| Wishes and Takoyaki | Sawamura Daichi

»»——⍟——««

prompt | #1- Snow

pairing | Sawamura Daichi x Reader

words | 1.3k

author’s note | Aww thank you Ana! Hope you enjoy this dose of childhood bestfriend!Daichi fluff~

»»——⍟——««

[Year 2000]

“Hello! Are you lost?”

He looked up to meet your eyes, tinted yellow by the candles around the two of you. Snow had started to fall softly, gathering in clumps on his dark green beanie. The Snow Lights Festival was being held at Shojing Shrine, which sat atop a little hill. The path leading up was decorated with snow lanterns, which emitted a soft yellow glow amidst all the white.

“Y-Yeah.” He answered shyly, rubbing his hands together. He had gotten separated from his parents due to the crowd a while ago. “My parents said to meet them at the top if I get lost.”

You tilted your head at him, smiling. “I’m lost too! Let’s start walking up!”

“But- But it’s so far away.” He complained, pouting. “I can’t walk that far.”

“Sure you can!” You insisted fiercely. “Just think of the food at the top! If you make it up there you can eat! And you can make wishes on emas, too,” You added. “But most importantly there’s food at the top.”

He hesitated. “Are you going up, too?” He asked hopefully.

“Yeah!” You grinned. “I’m here with my sister. She said if I get lost I gotta meet her at the top, so let’s go together!”

Nodding slightly, he took your outstretched hand, blushing a soft pink in contrast to all the white around the two of you. “Okay.”

“Oh, my name’s L/N Y/N! You can call me Y/N.”

He frowned. “But what about formalities?”

“We’re friends, right?” You smiled widely. “Then you can call me Y/N.”

“Oh... In that case, you can call me Daichi.”

[Year 2001]

“Daichi!”

He turned around, smiling even before his eyes met yours. Your voice was instantly recognisable by him, the tone and note memorised right down to the last detail. “Hello, Y/N.” He replied.

After last year’s festival, Daichi’s parents had acquired your older sister’s phone number so that the two of you could hangout and become better friends. You had spent countless days at Daichi’s place and could probably walk to his house blindfolded.

“Let’s go!” You grinned, tugging at his hand. Daichi glanced back at his parents, who only nodded in approval, calling out to the two of you to be careful. He let himself get dragged up past the snow lanterns and up the slope towards the shrine, the memories of the year before fresh and renewed in his mind.

“Wait here.” He told you, running off into the crowd as he left you by the side of a tall lamppost. You frowned in confusion but waited anyway, and he wasn’t gone long. In two minutes, he had returned with two wooden plaques in his hand. “Here’s yours.”

A beam slowly stretched across your lips as you realised what he had handed you- An ema, a little wooden plaque where you could write wishes on. “Thanks!” You smiled brightly, the two of you heading over to the station where pens were provided. Your sloppy, seven-year-old handwriting spelt your wish on the plaque- ‘I want a puppy and to be friends with Daichi forever’.

You peered over his shoulder curiously. “What did you wish for?” He instantly repelled away from you, grabbing his shinto tightly in his palm.

“You can’t do that!” He said indignantly. “It’s a secret.”

You pouted. “Fine! Not like I wanted to know anyways.”

[Year 2005]

Before you knew it, it was the Snow Lights Festival again. The two of you had turned eleven as pages of the calendar flew past in a blur. Daichi had dropped his slightly shy nature and become a more confident pre-teen that exerted the slight aura of a leader.

“Y/N!” He called out your name, a slight look of amusement on his face. “Were you lost?” He teased, having noticed how you had been wandering around aimlessly as you searched for your best friend, who you were supposed to meet at the shrine.

“I was not.” You defended yourself, crossing your arms.

He chuckled. “Sure, you weren’t. Where’s your sister?” He peered behind you, glancing around. “Isn’t she normally with you?”

“She got asked out for a date.” You replied giddily, incredibly proud of your sister, who had been an awkward single young-adult for the past five years.

“Oh.”

A silence fell between the two of you. Daichi looked like there was something he wanted to say, but decided against it. “Well, I brought money to buy takoyaki. You hungry?”

“Hungry or not, I’m always down for takoyaki.”

[Year 2010, Current time]

“Daichi! Sugawara! Asahi!” You grinned brightly as you spotted the trio. Junior high had came and left, and now you were halfway through senior high. Daichi had become a tall, broad-shouldered volleyball player that was greatly respected. His leader aura had only gotten stronger, giving him a reputation of being an incredibly reliable student.

The grey-haired boy nudged your childhood bestfriend. “Asahi, I’m going to the toilet. Want to come?”

“Err... Yes! Of course I want to come.” Asahi coughed awkwardly. “Y/N... We’ll see you guys at the shrine?” He offered, but was dragged off by Suga, who seemed very hasty to leave.

You stared at Suga and Asahi’s retreating backs oddly. “Isn’t the toilet in the other direction?”

Daichi seemed to choke on his saliva. “Um. Is it?” He laughed nervously. “Let’s... Go up first?” He suggested, gesturing to the slope that you had now become so familiarised with.

“I’m going to get some takoyaki. You want some?” You offered, already reaching inside your bag for your wallet.

“Go ahead, I’ll go buy us two emas’.” He smiled at you. “We’ll meet back here?”

You gave him a wink. “You got it!”

A few minutes later, the two of you met back under the lamppost, exchanging what you two had bought. “Here’s your ema.” He handed the wooden plaque to you, holding his own, an identical-looking one in his hand.

“Thanks. Oh my gosh, it tastes so good when it’s still hot.” You moaned, feeling the warm takoyaki ball inside your mouth. “It’s so good!”

He smiled in amusement.

“Oh yeah, Suga and Asahi sure are taking a long time in the toilet, huh?” You brought up, feeling suspicious. What were those two doing in the toilet??? (Asasuga??? wink wink)

He coughed. “Um. Maybe we should go write our wishes first?”

The two of you crouched by the pen station, writing down your respective wishes. You wished for good grades and an uneventful year, plus good luck for Daichi, Suga, and Asahi’s volleyball team. Daichi tucked his inside his coat pocket as soon as he was done writing, being very discreet and suspicious about the whole thing.

“There’s no more space!” You grunted in frustration, trying to squeeze your ema onto the fence provided to hang the plaques.

Daichi chuckled, taking your plaque from you. “There’s space at the top.” He reached up, easily tying it on one of the higher bars. “There. Okay, um. I need to tell you something.”

You raised an eyebrow. “If you make a remark about my height, Daichi, I will slap you.” You warned playfully.

“No! It’s not about that.” He laughed, a blush colouring his cheeks. “Okay, um. Remember the ema I hung up when we were seven?”

You scratched your mind for the memory. “Oh yeah! The one you wouldn’t let me see.”

“Yeah, well. About... What I wrote.” He coughed nervously, rubbing his arm restlessly. “I- I wrote that I wanted to be friends with you forever.”

You cooed. “Aww!” That’s what I wished for, too. Guess the wishes do come true, huh.

“The thing is, I want to take that back.” You must’ve looked panicked, because he rushed to reassure you. “No! Not like that. I... Don’t just want to be your friend.” He explained awkwardly.

The two of you paused for a moment until an old lady coughed, the two of you apologising in embarrassment and moving out of the way so other people could hang their emas.

“Oh.” You replied softly.

“So...?” Daichi prompted. “You can say no, it’s fine, really. I just... Wanted to shoot my shot.”

You giggled. “Then maybe we should get another ema.”

He raised an eyebrow in confusion. “What? Why?”

“So I can wish for us to be together forever.”

»»——⍟——««

[Haikyuu!! Light Festival]

Here you go Ana! I hope it’s satisfactory~

Also I googled Asahi x Suga and apparently it’s a thing-

»»——⍟——««

#daichi sawamura #sawamura daichi #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #sawamura daichi fluff #sawamura daichi x reader #daichi x reader #karasuno #karasuno x reader #childhood bestfriend! daichi #sawamura daichi x y/n #cadyh2o #cady writesss «#cady's requests #haikyuu!! light festival

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lu-undy · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 67 - SBT

Here it is!

"Mmh… Pearl let me sleep…"

Mlem, mlem, mlem…

"Pearl…! Please…"

More mlems.

"Fine, fine, here, I'm awake… Happy?"

Mewls of joy resounded in the van. Mundy's fluffy family headbutted him, brushed themselves on his face and overall drowned him in fluff.

"Alright, alright, take it easy, eh?"

He kissed them all and hugged them.

"I guess you're hungry?"

The concerto of meows and mewls was a very clear answer. Mundy got out of bed and shared his breakfast with his feline family. Coffee for him, and cat and kitten food for them.

He got dressed properly, with gloves, a beanie and a thick scarf.

"Guys, c'mere, you need to dress up, 's cold."

Perle led the way and Mundy wrapped her in her pink coat. Next, the kittens came closer. The girls had fuschia little coats and the boys, blue ones. Soot was hesitant but accepted his green one.

"Right, now let's get some fresh air."

Mundy opened the door that Perle had been scratching. As soon as he did so, the herd of fluff spread outside.

"Let's have a walk, babies, c'mon, follow up, chop, chop!"

Mundy could see his own breath when he spoke. He led the way through the forest and the cats trotted by his side. The kittens were curious about everything from the crunchy leaves to the tree trunk that their parents were scratching with their claws. Ooh, yes, that felt good on the claws!

The Aussie occasionally kicked the piles of dead leaves and watched the kittens pounce on them. How dared those crunchy leaves stand in front of Gramps?! Such disrespect!

Mundy played around with the cats. He watched Perle and Soot climb the trees and follow him from above while the babies struggled to climb. They would try countless times and again on different trunks but their claws were still a bit on the soft side. Nevermind then! They would follow Gramps on foot, or on paw rather.

The morning was cold and crisp but Mundy and the cat family enjoyed the fresh air hitting their skin and their fur. It was a habit now. Each day they would start with a stroll in the forest. But soon the mewls were loud.

"What is it, babies?"

They were around a tree trunk trying again to join their parents.

"You're too small for playin' Tarzan, guys. Also, it's good to give Mum and Dad a bit of time alone, eh?"

The mewls did not stop.

"Alright, c'mere."

He scooped two kittens and put each on his shoulders. The third one he put at the back in his hoodie.

"And c'mere, you."

Lu' Junior had the privilege to stay in Gramps' arms. The Aussie had an unspoken special affection for the smallest kitten. Maybe it came from his name and his looks, maybe he just saw what he wanted to see in him. In any case, Mundy crouched down and cupped his hands for the kitten to jump in.

"Oh… What's this…?"

He frowned and pushed the leaves away on the ground.

"Hooves' prints? There aren't any wild horses in here…"

Lu' Junior jumped in his Gramps' hands and curled in a small ball of fluff against his gloves. Mundy held him like a baby.

"There aren't any horse tours either this time of year… Hm, weird."

The Aussie resumed his walk, the kittens clawing to him and mewling repeatedly.

"Did you like the fish yesterday, guys?"

More mewls.

"Yeah, but you, Glovy, you had too much, eh? You never know when to stop eatin', you're gonna end up like one big ball of fur with a tail, rolling around, eh?"

The black kitten with white paws mewled back but his mother meowed at him from a branch high up in the trees.

"You heard Mum, don't talk back, and eat less, or run around more and don't nap as much, you fat kitty."

The kittens on his shoulder went to his hoodie at the back and so Mundy was effectively carrying three of them on his back and one in his hands.

"What d'you think of the forest guys? You like it? Yeah, it's good, isn't it? We should come back in spring and summer. Why? Well cause then the trees have leaves and everythin' is green and beautiful, eh?"

"Meow?" They asked.

"Yeah, I swear. And I'll take your parents too. I doubt Mum and Dad have ever seen anythin' like it."

"Meow?"

"Why? Cause your Mum was raised in the city, to be a posh little kitty. And your father, ah, your father comes from the streets, but still from the city. You guys have no idea what it is to see nature and stuff. It smells of all kinds of things and you've got lots of colours goin' on too."

The kittens mewled, asking a million questions.

"Hey, hey, lads, one at a time, alright?"

The kittens climbed out of the hood and went on his shoulders.

"Careful, folks, you're gonna fall, no, no, claws, claws!"

Mundy stopped and crouched down.

"There you go, let's go back now, ok? There's a little stream not far, actually, you guys can probably see it or hear it."

They walked a bit more and stopped at the stream. Perle and Soot came down from the trees and the cats drank from it. Mundy crouched down to watch them.

"Fresh, isn't it? I should have brought a bottle and filled it. That's proper water, eh."

The kittens lapped at it and touched it curiously with their paws before realising that indeed, water was wet. But it made funny lapping noises and it seemed a bit agitated as the stream flowed fast, bouncing on the rocks at the bottom of it.

"Careful not to fall in, eh?" Mundy pulled back Diamond who was being dangerously adventurous. "You guys don't like it when you get wet."

He watched them for a bit longer and sighed. This was as close as the near forty-year old would ever get to having children...

"We've walked quite far, lads. Let's go back."

Perle and Soot walked along their children and Mundy. The Aussie watched as Perle's fluffy white tail waved and danced around Soot's. The black cat could barely understand it all. All of a sudden, he had food, a warm bed and a family with whom he purred all day long. Life couldn't get any better. Well, if one forgets the bath, that is…

They walked back to the van and Mundy went to get his fishing rod.

"Hold on…"

He crouched down and looked at the ground. On the shore, he could see hooves prints not far from his campervan.

"But there aren't any horses here… Jesus-?"

He frowned. Something was odd. Next to the hooves prints were footprints. A human's footprints. Someone had come not far from his van and as usual, Mundy hadn't locked it. He went inside, followed by the herd of fluff.

"Pearl, keep your babies inside."

"Meow?"

"Somethin's odd. Someone came here close by. They might have seen the van."

"Meow?"

"Well, you're not really supposed to camp here. I do it anyway cause no one checks but… And the bloke's on horseback."

Mundy rummaged through his belongings, checking that nothing had been stolen.

"Meow?"

"Would you roam around on horseback now? And it's only one set of footprints and hooves. You don't take tours alone on horseback here. No, so chances are the bloke's not supposed to be there either."

Soot gathered the kittens on the sofa.

"Meow…" Perle brushed herself on Mundy's legs to calm him down. Well, someone else was in the forest, why be scared?

"I came here to be alone, baby. Not to have people get close. Next thing you'll know they'll come and talk to me. I don't want any of that…"

He sighed and turned left and right, restless on his feet.

Perle opened one of the cupboards and pulled a can of cat food.

"Oh, yeah, you guys must be hungry…"

Little ears pricked up and the mewls went on louder.

Mundy poured the cat food for the kittens and watched them eating as he went deep in thought. He should move away with the van. Go somewhere else and camp there. The forest was wide enough and he knew it like the back of his hand so it wouldn't be too hard to find a quiet spot.

The problem was the lake!

He had come to fish and really enjoyed it. The lake was wide, yes, but chances are, if he moved to another bit of the shore, the bloke roaming around would find him in no time.

Mundy sighed.

Bah, screwed as he was, he might as well face it. He would talk to them and if they were some sort of park ranger and asked him to leave, he would…

Mundy raised his eyes to the windows and walked to them. It was odd anyway. Who in their right minds would have a walk around these parts, so far from town, now that it was freezing…?

"Hm. I'll be right outside to fish. You guys stay safe and warm, ok?"

The mewls and meows agreed.

"Good kitties."

The Aussie stepped out of the van with the fishing equipment. He sat on his foldable chair and started. The lake was calm, so calm. He sighed. Not a sound and nothing to see either. Fishing was always an exercise of patience, and the ex-hunter had plenty of it.

He waited there and laid his long legs in front of him. He put one leg on the other and watched the lake. The only thing he could see was the periodic cloud of vapour as he breathed. He would sometimes see a few ripples at the surface of the water, but not much else.

It was peaceful.

"Meow?"

Mundy frowned as Perle jumped on his lap.

"What are you doin' here? I thought you were home with the hubby and the kids?"

She laid down and curled on his lap, wrapping her tail around herself.

"Wanna stay with Gramps?"

"Meow." She protested.

"Rather wanna stay with Dad?"

"Meow…" She meowed and purred under her father's fingers.

"You know, you make me feel old, baby." He chuckled. "I feel old, so bloody old, especially now that you have the babies… I don't have grey hair yet like your Papa did, but still."

"Meow?"

"Yeah, remember Papa?"

Perle blinked slowly.

"Course you do. The most handsome man the Earth has seen since bloody Casanova. He had grey hair, like Lu' Junior has white patches. Hm. I didn't know I could like a bloke with grey hair, and I didn't know I could like him that hard."

Mundy's fingers scratched the fluffy cat.

"D'you think he watches us from where he is?"

Perle purred.

"I like to think he does. It helps. But also, I hope he isn't… Y'know… Disappointed."

"Meow?"

"Why? Cause Eddy, Victoria and Maurice are right. I haven't moved on to anything else. I can't. Movin' on means I have something I want to get to, a target. I don't have anything but you, baby. You're the only one I have and you're my everythin', the same way that he was. But y'know, sometimes I think about him and I wonder what he'd think of me now. I think…" Mundy took a deep breath. "I think he'd be sad for me. If he sees me from up there, I'm sure he's thinking about us, hoping he did the right thing."

"Meow?"

"But at the same time, he's with his fiancée and kid. So I guess he can find a bit of peace with that… Actually, he probably takes care of them, they keep him busy. That's what he wanted initially, avenge them."

"Meow?"

"I don't know, it's hard to tell, eh? Did he do the right thing or did we just… Did we just mess the chance we had because we were both blinded by revenge? I mean, yeah, ok, we killed Duchemin. I made him suffer beyond what I thought I could do to anyone. It was weird. It's just that… thinking about what Mum and Dad had to go through… I just wanted him to feel it too because… Because it's unfair."

The fishing rod moved and Mundy pulled on the thread to reveal a sizable trout. He put it in the bucket on the shore and threw the bait again.

"Meow…"

Perle stood on her back paws and hugged her Dad. She pushed her head against his cheek and brushed herself there, lovingly.

"Y'know, I never really said it but uh… I guess I have to one day. You need to hear it before… Y'know… Before the end."

"Meow?"

"You're making me understand what my parents felt when they adopted me. I never doubted their love, even with my Dad."

"Meow?" Perle laid on her Dad's lap and rolled to offer her fluffy belly to him. She raised her feline blue eyes to Mundy.

"Yeah, I used to fight with him all the time… Seems nonsensical now. I mean, I do have regrets. I shouldn't have talked to him that way. Deep down I understand he was just worried for me. I regret it now, yeah. Can't do much about it. When I go and see him, I ask him to forgive me, yeah."

"Meow?"

"I don't know, baby, I really don't. But at the same time, yeah, I think I love you like they loved me. I mean, of course you're a cat, but you're not just a cat. Lu' rescued you and… and then we adopted you, raised you like our, well, our baby. He taught you to cross the street like a proper person and I guess I taught you how to accept people."

"Meow!"

"Even if you're still grumpy about them, eh. At least now you let them approach you when I tell ya."

Perle purred and rose to her feet to headbutt her Dad and rub her fluffy head against him.

"Yeah… I love you too, Pearl… I really do, baby… Huh?"

Mundy heard something. He turned his back and couldn't see a thing through the forest of dead trees and leaves. Hm. Whatever.

"Right, hold on here. The fish is bein' slow today, I'll get the sax and play."

He left Perle on the chair and came back with his saxophone. The lady cat sat at his feet and watched him. He put the black mouthpiece in his mouth and started to play. The waves of air that he blew out of his golden instrument were slow and mellow. The original song was upbeat and quite faster in tempo than what Mundy played.

But he had lost any and all rhythm in his life. The cycles of day and night were only still a thing because of the cats. Without them, he would be living to the periodic summons of his stomach and would hardly leave his bed.

Can't take my eyes off of you…

A song he had played back in the days when he played in a small band, in pubs. It was easy for the crowd to sing along to, even when they were drunk. But the way he interpreted it now was far from the version he used to play. No, now it was tainted with melancholy, with regret. It was slowed down to the rhythm at which Mundy dragged his feet from one day to the next. He had played everyday for the past few days and felt a bit less rusty now.

He closed his eyes and let himself be invaded by the wind of music, not realising that he had an audience besides Perle; an audience consisting of a single man. But sometimes, as Mundy now knew too well, a single man could make all the difference.

The hermit left his horse and approached, his footsteps as silent as a feline gait. He slithered through the tree trunks, walking in a straight, resolute line, yet torn apart by doubts.

Would his feet lead him all the way to the musician? Would he chicken out? Again? He had spent the past few days listening to the concerts everyday until he had caught a glimpse of the campervan. And everything had been turned upside down in the hermit's mind and body. Would he find the courage to confront him, to utter at least a few words to him?

His feet went on and he was now in the open, not surrounded by the trees anymore. He was only a few metres behind the musician and stopped. It was foolish. Breaking the silence, blowing up the solitude he had dived in for more than a year in that forest… It was foolish. More than that, it was idiotic, it was stupid and he should not under any circumstances do it. Because if he did, all that time spent far from any and everyone would have counted for nothing.

He was now within arm's reach. He could put his hand in the old mitten on the musician's shoulder. His curious digits floated, hovered gently, they perhaps even trembled at the mere thought of -

"Huh?!"

The musician had jumped out of his chair and spun fast on his feet to hold the intruder from behind, a hand blocking his arm and the other putting a blade under his throat.

"What the hell're you doin', mate, hm? Thought you could rob me and me van? Well, bad luck, the kitty saw you and twitched."

"Gnh?!" The hermit felt the cold metal of the blade against his throat.

In the rush of the movement, his beanie had slipped off his soft, salt and pepper hair and his ponytail went undone.

"And you're old at that?" Mundy said. "You prey on poor campers like me at your age, mate? Did no one catch you before?"

The hermit had frozen and raised his hands left and right, surrendering.

"What the-?" Mundy looked down and Perle was brushing herself on his legs and the hermit's. "Baby? What the hell…? Oi, you still don't move!" Mundy pressed the blade against the stranger's throat harder. "Pearl, you never liked people…?"

The lady cat purred.

"She recognised me." The hermit with the French accent answered and Mundy's heart stopped. "Besides, you are holding my blade like a butcher, Bushman."

Mundy's ears rang loudly, deafeningly, his legs gave up and he fell to the floor, the blade escaping his fingers.

"He will beat me up for this." Lucien chuckled, looking at his unconscious lover. "And look at you, mon bébé!"

"Meow!"

He opened his arms and the cat jumped to him, brushing herself on him as he carried her and spun round and around.

"Mon Dieu! Comme tu as grandi!"

[My God! You have grown so much!]

He kissed her again and again, squeezing her in his arms as she meowed and purred repeatedly.

"Oui? Tu me reconnais! C'est Papa!"

[Yes? You recognise me! It's Papa!]

He kissed her again before letting her go. He picked up the blade from the sandy ground.

"Va réveiller Mundy. Si je le fais, il va m'en coller une."

[Go and wake Mundy up. If I do it, he will surely punch me across the face.]

Perle went to her Dad and meowed, sniffing him and licking his eyebrows and his hair.

"Wha-...? Baby? What the…?" Mundy gained consciousness again. "What the hell am I doin' here…?"

Mundy raised his eyes and saw a man with loose, salt and pepper hair, falling on his shoulders, crouching next to him. He wore a short beard and his ice blue eyes were riveted on the blade with which he was playing between his fingers.

"Bloody hell!"

Mundy jumped to his feet and ran to his van a few metres away. He put a hand on his chest, his heart was beating so hard, it might have burst out of his chest. He was breathing loud and hard, his back against the side of the van.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck… Now I see him… I see him, I see him, I see him…"

Lucien tilted his head on the side and his hair gently followed the movement of his head, flowing to one side.

"You also hear him."

"What the hell?! Look, sorry mate, you just look like the spittin' image of a mate of mine. Y-you actually sound like him too, oof…" Mundy bent down and rested his hands on his knees. "Man, that's the most terrifyin' thing I've ever seen…" He tried to catch his breath.

Lucien put a hand on his shoulder and gently tapped him.

"Yeah, give me a second… You just are the goddamn spittin' image of a mate of mine that passed a year ago and uh… Ooh, you look the same but with long hair and a beard… Gosh, ah…"

Lucien chuckled at how ridiculous it all was. Mundy refused to believe it was him. He stood straight up and adjusted his clothes.

"Look, I'm sorry to have threatened you and all, I just know this forest like the back of my hand and I know there isn't anyone here at this time of the year."

Mundy raised his eyes to the man in front of him and his eyebrows jumped. The resemblance was striking… Almost too real. He leaned back on the side of his van.

"Silly." Lucien said, handing the blade back to him.

"What?" Mundy frowned, accepting it.

"You are incredibly silly."

"Listen, mate, you might not get it, but you gave me the fright of my life. You just… you look like him too much!"

Lucien rolled his eyes and crossed his arms on his chest.

"Meow."

Perle brushed herself against his legs and Mundy frowned again.

"She usually doesn't trust strangers unless I tell her she can."

Lucien chuckled again, trying not to burst out in laughter.

"What? What's so funny?" Mundy asked.

"If I told you, you would beat me up. Again. For the hundredth time."

The Aussie's jaw dropped.

"No…? Really…?" He wanted to believe in the resemblance, he really did.

Lucien crouched down and scratched Perle's head. He stood back up again.

"Oh you would, without a doubt, you have beaten me up for far less than what I have been doing for the past five hundred and three days."

Mundy frowned.

"No…"

Lucien took the step that separated him from Mundy and went for what he had dreamt of doing for the past five hundred and three days. He put a hand on Mundy's cheek and the Aussie's back went flat against his van. Lucien grinned with the same simple, arrogant, trademarked smile of his. The Aussie got taken aback by the suddenness of the stranger's moves but the more he stared, the more he was convinced. It had to be him. But it couldn't. Yet, he recognised him.

"You're dead…"

"I had to. But non, I am afraid that the news of my death was greatly exaggerated."

Mundy smacked a hand on his mouth. His eyebrows rose on their own, his eyes burnt hot and tears started streaming on their own as he closed them. He leaned his head in the hollow of Lucien's palm more. The Frenchman smiled. Mundy's hands hovered up, slowly, to Lucien's cheeks.

"Is it really you?"

"What do you think?"

"Bloody hell…"

Mundy's fingers sank in Lucien's long hair and the Frenchman closed his eyes, rolling them up slowly in bliss. His hands slid to Mundy's chest.

"What's with the hair and beard?" Mundy sniffed through his tears.

"I could ask you the same. You have cut your hair?"

Mundy's beanie had slipped away when he fainted.

"Well, fuck me…" He muttered in disbelief. Lucien was alive?

"Well that is quite upfront, mon amour."

"No, I - argh, I didn't mean it like that!"

Lucien chuckled and oh my God, Mundy remembered that melody! He remembered the velvet purring that was Lucien's chuckle!

"I… I… No, seriously, it's you…?"

"You still don't believe it, hm?"

"You've been dead for more than a year, luv'!"

"And you've taken care of Perle, as I asked you to." Lucien looked down at the white cloud slithering between their legs, meowing repeatedly.

"Lu'...?"

"Oui?"

"Say it."

"I will doom the both of us if I do. Again."

"Not this time."

"Why?"

"They've killed you once. They won't kill you twice."

Lucien smiled.

"Perhaps you are right."

"So say it." Mundy insisted.

"Honey, I'm home."

Mundy grabbed Lucien by his waist and pulled him into the dearest hug he ever gave in his life, digging his fingers as hard as he could there. He burst out laughing and sobbing at the same time, he didn't know what to feel! Tears streamed but he was laughing his socks off!

Somehow, he had Lucien again and wouldn't let go of him! He didn't care if he was dreaming or not he had the man he dreamt of in his arms! He moved away from the van, pulling Lucien by the hand.

"Mundy-?"

"Shut up and c'mere, you!"

The Aussie crouched slightly and swept Lucien off his feet, spinning him round and around in his arms like a mad man.

"You're back! You're back!" He voice broke and reached octaves it had never explored before.

As he turned and spun, they eventually fell on the sand, on the lake's shore, Lucien landed on Mundy. They both laughed and when they calmed down, Lucien looked down at him.

"I am glad you haven't beaten me up for this."

"I could." Mundy cheekily answered.

"And I would complain."

"You'd fight back and kick my arse…!" Mundy chuckled.

"This is domestic violence, Mundy!"

"Pfff domestic - wait, does that mean you're really back?" Lucien smiled. "Like back like it was before and - hm…"

Lucien slowly dived to meet Mundy's lips with his own. The beard was definitely something new against Mundy's mouth but he loved it. And that long hair looked and felt amazing… It was like curtains around their faces, salt and pepper curtains of pure silk. They kissed on the sand and would have spent the entire evening there…

Lucien broke the kiss.

"Was that-?" He asked.

"Well, yeah, it was my stomach growlin'…!"

"So much for romance. Again." Lucien stood up and offered a hand to lift Mundy off the ground.

"Oi, you interrupted my fishin'! I'm gettin' hungry!"

They looked each other in the eye and smiled.

"Give me an instant." Lucien headed away.

"Nope!" Mundy followed him.

"What are you doing?"

"Followin' you."

"Why?"

"I lost you once, not gonna happen again." Mundy held his hand. "I'll be stuck to you forever now, even if you have to take a bloody piss!"

"Bushman!"

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

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darks-ink · 5 years ago

Text

What A Nice Surprise CH.11

Almost at the end! Also I have such a good time writing these family fluff scenes, not gonna lie.

First Chapter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter AO3 - FFnet

The doorbell rang, and Maddie looked up from the dinner she was preparing, startled. From the corner of her eye she could see Jack do the same, the invention he was tinkering with immediately put down on the table.

“D’you think that that’s Phantom?” her husband asked, turning to glance at the clock. “A little late for him, don’t you think?”

“He might be in trouble.” She put down her knife, glad that she hadn’t put anything on the fire yet. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

Jack nodded, following her towards the front door. “Right you are, Mads.”

When she opened the door, she was immediately – instinctively – scanning over Phantom’s appearance. Glow was bright but flickering – emotion, maybe, instead of exhaustion – and no ectoplasm stained his suit. No visible injuries, tears, rips.

Then she noticed the ghost hovering next to him, almost identical in appearance, and she blinked in surprise.

“Hi Maddie, Jack,” Phantom said, a lopsided smile on his face. “Can we, uh, come in?”

“Of course.” She stepped aside, and both ghosts floated in. The other ghost glanced around, green eyes wide with curiosity, which further cemented Maddie’s suspicion that this wasn’t a duplicate gone wrong. Not that she thought Phantom was capable of duplication, anyway, but he had a tendency to surprise them.

“Who’s this?” Jack asked, smiling at the girl ghost. He offered her his hand, and hesitantly, she took it. “I don’t think Phantom ever mentioned your name, kiddo.”

She glanced from Jack to Phantom, then back again. “I’m, um. Danielle. But call me Dani, please?”

Jack released her hand, instead patting her on the shoulder with his massive hand. “Dani, nice to meet you! I’m Jack, and this is my wife Maddie.” He gestured over to her, and she reached out to shake hands with the ghost as well.

“Pleasure to meet you,” she said as they shook, smiling at the young ghost. Younger than Phantom even. By a couple years, if she had to guess. And so similar that they must’ve been siblings. “I didn’t know that Phantom had more ghosts in his family, to be honest. He’s never spoken of you.”

Dani laughed awkwardly, glancing over to Phantom again. The other ghost came to her rescue, nodding towards the living room. “Ah, yes, well. I’ve got a good explanation for that, and one that maybe… we should sit down for?”

Maddie caught a concerned look from Jack, and silently agreed. To Phantom, she nodded. “Yes, of course. Come, have a seat.” She added the last for Dani, gesturing at the couch.

She, herself, sat down on the couch itself, Jack by her side. Phantom and Dani both perched on the armchair, simultaneously, each taking an arm. The two ghosts shared a look, one she couldn’t decipher, but she did catch the shrug from Dani and the exasperated eye roll from Phantom.

Definitely siblings.

“So, now that we’re all situated…” She leaned forward, hands interlinked, expression patient and open but waiting. “I think we would both like to hear more.”

“Right, right.” Phantom looked over at his probably-sister, comfortingly patted her on the shoulder, then turned back to her and Jack. “So, basically, the short version is that Plasmius tried to clone me but didn’t do a very good job of it.”

Maddie felt her jaw drop, and Jack produced a strange noise between a cough and a surprised yelp.

“Excuse me?” she said, already seeing that they were serious – Dani looked seriously uncomfortable, and Phantom was clearly trying to make her feel better despite the circumstances. “But how? Why?”

“Because he sucks,” Dani mumbled under her breath. More loudly, she added, “He wasn’t happy with how well Phantom was doing. He still wanted to train Phantom, but he stood no chance of getting the actual Phantom, so he figured he would make his own.”

“Except that that was easier said that done,” Phantom continued, picking up the slack for Dani. “No matter how he tried, he couldn’t produce a stable ghost, one that could last. So he, uh. Decided to go a little more traditional on how ghosts are formed.”

The ghost wrapped an arm around his supposed clone, pulling her against his side. “He decided to use human DNA, too. I’m not sure what he was expecting – maybe that the human side would die and help guide the formation of the ghost? But I do know what ended up happening.”

“Well, it must’ve worked somehow.” Jack gestured at the two ghosts perched on the armchair, frowning. “Although he must’ve done a bad job with the DNA either way, if she ended up a girl.”

Dani glanced between Phantom and Maddie and Jack, brow creased. Then she nudged Phantom. “I’ll just show them. That’s easier, right?”

“Probably,” the ghost acknowledged. To the two humans, he said, “Trust me, there’s a good reason why I’m confident in saying that things didn’t work out as Plasmius expected. And there’s also a good reason why we came here.”

The clone nodded, pushing off of the chair. Rather than float, however, she settled with her feet set on the floor. She balled her hands into fists, then resolutely raised them in the air.

Maddie was about to ask what she was trying to achieve when a bright spark formed close to the girl’s waist. It expanded rapidly, forming a ring of white light around the ghost. One ring became two, slowly splitting apart and moving across Dani’s body.

Admittedly intrigued by this, Maddie sat back and watched with a strict eye. The area between the rings, which they had passed over, seemed to change in appearance. Rather than the black-and-white suit which she wore, reminiscent of Phantom’s own, an oversized blue hoodie and red shorts appeared. Her bare legs had the same skin tone as her face, that strangely human tint, and eventually blue-and-white sneakers appeared as well.

Then the ring passed over her head, over her scrunched-shut eyes and her hair… and white turned pitch black. A red beanie appeared, but it did little to hide the messy black haircut.

She gasped, and Dani opened wary eyes. Blue eyes.

The girl – ghost? – flinched under the watching eyes of her and Jack, folding in on herself, and Phantom quickly laid a calming hand on her shoulder.

“Shh, it’s okay Dani,” he soothed, pulling her back onto the chair and against his side. “They’re just surprised because they’ve never seen anything like that before. It’s okay, right, Jack, Maddie?”

Startled back to the present, she quickly nodded. “Yes, of course. It’s just…” She gestured at Dani, vaguely. “I’m not sure I get it. Is this not just a form of shapeshifting? A little strange, of course, if it’s not a power you possess, but–”

“No, no,” Phantom cut her off, shaking his head. “She didn’t just change on the outside. She became human. V- Plasmius, he used human DNA, right? And now Dani isn’t entirely ghost. She’s part human, too.”

She frowned, looking over at Jack. Surely that wasn’t possible…? They had looked into it before, the possibility of combining living matter and ectoplasm, but they deemed it impossible. One couldn’t be alive and dead at the same time. Ectoplasm simply wasn’t complex enough to sustain such a thing.

But wasn’t Phantom virtually alive, too? With a heartbeat and organs, and a need to breathe and eat and sleep?

“Do you know whose DNA he used for the human side?” Jack asked, seemingly unconcerned by whether or not this was scientifically possible. “To what extent does she resemble you, Phantom? Any traits carried over from when you were alive?”

The ghost started, eyes big and staring at Jack. “Well, um. We don’t know where the DNA came from, so. We don’t know how much came from the human DNA, and how much might’ve come from me. We think it might be 50/50, but we can’t prove it.”

“And I’m not really interested in finding out anyway,” Dani confessed with a shrug. Her sneakers thumped against the chair, legs too short to reach the floor from where she was perched on the arm again. “The whole… genetics thing, I don’t care about. I wasn’t born, so as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have a real family. A blood family.”

Jack snorted, then hummed. “A family doesn’t have to be related to be a family. And, the same way, people can be related to you and raise you your whole life and not be your family. It’s all about caring.”

Phantom raised the arm that was wrapped around Dani to ruffle her hair. “And you’re still my family, anyway, lil sis. We share DNA, and I care about you, so you’re my family twice over.”

Her face twisted into a shaky smile, and she shoved Phantom. “So you keep saying.”

“I keep saying it because it’s true!” the ghost protested, barely holding onto the chair, fingers digging into the plush material. “I called dibs, you’re mine now! Don’t make me lick you to prove it!”

“Lick me?” Dani repeated with a questioning frown and a smile. “What’s that supposed to–”

Phantom lunged, suddenly, wrapping both of his arms around Dani and pulling her against his chest. Then he stuck out his ecto-green tongue, pretending to lick her, before ruffling her hair. “There!” he exclaimed loudly, “Everyone knows that once you’ve licked food it’s yours, so obviously the same rule goes for siblings, right?”

“Ew, dude.” Dani made a disgusted face, attempting to grapple Phantom off of her again. “That’s disgusting!”

Maddie felt herself smile involuntarily. Jack nudged her, and she looked over to see him grin widely as well.

“Remember when our kids were like that?” he asked, face so bright she wouldn’t be surprised if he glowed like a ghost.

“Are you sure these aren’t ours too?” From the corner of her eye she watched Dani, her crystalline blue eyes and her roughed-up black hair. The shape of her face, so similar to Phantom and so similar to… to Danny.

Her eyes softened. “Jack, don’t you see it as well? They don’t know where Dani’s human DNA came from, but…”

“You think it’s Danny too?” He wrapped an arm around her, pressing a kiss against her temple. “Well, I’m not opposed to having another kid.”

“Phantom is practically ours as well,” she agreed, a soft smile on her face as she leaned against her husband. “But we’ll have to ask the kids too, honey. Phantom only drops by occasionally, but I won’t let Dani do that. She has human needs, and deserves to be raised that way, too.”

“Do you really mean that?”

Maddie started, suddenly reminded that Phantom and Dani were there too, and looked over to the two. They had halted in the middle of a fight, Dani sitting on Phantom’s chest, her wide blue eyes staring at Maddie.

“Do you really… Are you really saying you want me to stay here?”

“Well… Of course, sweetie.” She shifted, and Jack took the silent message and let go of her. Standing up, she crouched down next to Dani. “Phantom is virtually our family. And if you’re his family, then you’re ours as well.”

Dani blinked big watery eyes at her. Then suddenly she sprung forward, her twiggy arms wrapping around Maddie. She stumbled, barely catching the girl, but held her nonetheless.

The couch creaked behind them as Jack got up too, moving closer. He wrapped an arm around the two of them as well, tugging Phantom closer with his other. “We’re all a family, Dani, Phantom. Blood-related or not.”

She nodded against Maddie’s chest, warm in her arms. Her breaths – short and stuttery due to her tears – were hot against Maddie’s bare neck.

“Thank you,” Dani muttered between sobs, “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Maddie untangled one hand, gently wiping a few tears off of Dani’s face. “I don’t care where you came from, sweetie. If you’ll have us, we would love to be your new family. We’ll have to ask our other kids, but they’ll be happy to have you, too, I promise.”

“If you say so…” Dani fidgeted, shooting a fleeting glance over at Phantom. Catching the underlying meaning, Jack dragged Phantom even closer, one arm slung around the ghost’s shoulders. Once he was close enough, Dani dug her fingers into his jumpsuit, pulling him into a proper hug, the two of them sandwiched between her and Jack.

Phantom spluttered, surprised, color fading from his extremities as he instinctively tapped into intangibility. But Dani held on, and once he realized what was happening, Phantom melted into the hug, too. He was cold where Dani was warm, his snowy white hair gently waving on a non-existent wind. But he was no less real for it, soft muscle and sharp bones in a too-lean body.

A green flush spread on Phantom’s cheeks, his glow warm and soothing, illuminating the matching red blush on Dani’s face. The two of them were curled into each other, with her and Jack’s arms wrapped around the both of them, pulled against both of their bodies.

She wasn’t sure how long the four of them ended up sitting there. Eventually she became aware of the hum Phantom seemed to emit. The ghost didn’t seem aware of it, despite it steadily increasing in volume, but Jack’s wide-eyed look suggested that he heard it, too. Felt it, as well.

It was… it was almost like a purr. With his eyes scrunched closed and his face soft and pleased, Phantom looked – and sounded – like a content cat. Did ghosts purr, somehow? Had they simply never noticed before, too occupied to hear the soft sound?

“You’re purring again,” Dani murmured, voice soft and somewhat sleepy as she nudged Phantom. “It makes my core feel weird.”

Phantom’s eyes opened as he squinted at her, and the hum quieted. It didn’t leave entirely, though, as he protested, “It’s not a purr. It’s just my core humming.”

“It sure sounds like a purr.” Dani grinned, lopsided. “You sounds like a cat.”

Luminescent green eyes opened further just so Phantom could roll them, and he pushed himself slightly further out of the embrace just so he could look at her properly. “It’s a hum. It’s normal for ghosts, in case you didn’t know, when they’re content and around their family.”

“So it is a purr,” Jack teased, a faux-thoughtful look on his face. “Like a happy cat.”

The ghost gasped, offended, as his gaze swept over to Jack. “Not you too! It’s not a purr, it’s my core!”

“Are you really upset that we’re comparing a phenomenon we’re not familiar with to a much-beloved equivalent in cats?” Maddie asked, ruffling Phantom’s hair. “A ghost core is strange to us, as is its behavior. The purring of a cat, however…”

He huffed, a childish pout on his face as he crossed his arms. It only lasted for a few moments before he broke out in a laugh, chuckling. “Alright, alright, fine. I’m not mad.”

“You almost had me going, kid!” Jack laughed too, clapping Phantom on the shoulder. “I was worried for a sec!”

Maddie watched the three of them laugh, a soft smile on her face too. Then she caught sight of the clock on the far wall and froze.

“What’s wrong?” Phantom asked almost immediately, clearly worried. His glow flickered anxiously.

“Nothing, nothing. I just saw how late it was getting,” Maddie confessed, starting the arduous task of untangling herself from the pile of limbs. “I barely got started on dinner, and I’ll need to make more now. Phantom, sweetie, will you eat along too?”

“I, uh, shouldn’t.” He made a complicated face, then patted Dani on the shoulder. “You’ll be okay without me, right? I’ll stick around so you can get introduced to the Fenton kids, but I really should go afterwards.”

Dani looked hesitant, but relaxed a little as Phantom explained. She nodded. “Okay, I guess. I can’t force you to stay, anyway.”

“If you couldn’t make it without me I would stay, of course.” He nudged her, keeping half an eye on Maddie as she wrestled herself out from in-between the ghost and the half-ghost. “But Maddie and Jack will take care of you, you know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Dani agreed, expression softening as she looked at the two of them. “Yeah, I know that.”

Phantom patted his sister-clone on her shoulder once more, then he lifted in the air. Phased himself out of the pile, which allowed Maddie to pull herself out as well.

Jack, seeing the pile get broken up, pushed himself to his feet as well. “I’ll call the kids down, then. Get everyone introduced.”

She nodded at him, dusting off her jumpsuit a little. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Call me over if you need me for anything.”

“Will do,” he agreed with a nod, helping Dani to her feet as well. “But I’m sure it’ll be alright. We’ve got some great kids, Mads.”

“Even more now that we had before.” She smiled over at Phantom and Dani, watching them react simultaneously; both blushed, turning to face away from them. Laughing a little at the identical display, she started making her way to the kitchen.

It didn’t take her long to realize she was being followed, and she glanced over her shoulder to see an awkward-looking Phantom. Quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Figured I would see if I could help,” he explained, rubbing the back of his neck as he floated after her. “Since I’m kind of responsible for the hold-up, and all that.”

“You really don’t have to, sweetie. It’s not your fault.” She paused in front of the pan of already-peeled potatoes, frowning at the crumpled things. Without their skin, they hadn’t lasted.

“Maybe not,” the ghost acknowledged, “But I feel responsible anyway, and I want to help.”

She clicked her tongue, then turned to hand him the pan. “Well, if you insist on helping, get rid of these for me, please. But really, Phantom, it’s alright. You can calm that rabid sense of responsibility, I promise.”

“No can do.” He huffed out a laugh, grinning at her as he moved to the trashcan. “It’s an uncontrollable beast.”

“That honestly sounds a little worrying.” She watched him with a creased brow. “You’re just a kid, Phantom. You shouldn’t feel responsible for so much stuff. Even what you’re doing for Amity Park, it’s a little much, isn’t it?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Phantom groaned. Then he stilled entirely, flushing bright green, staring wide-eyed at her. Embarrassed, apparently, at having called her ‘Mom’. Like she and Jack hadn’t been telling him for forever that he was basically one of their kids, born to them or not. Maybe if he would tell his own parents he wouldn’t go searching for new ones.

But it wasn’t like she could just tell him that. He would clam up.

Instead she crossed her arms, stared him down impassively, one brow raised. “Is that so? Because you look a little thin, Phantom, have you been eating properly? Honestly, you’re as bad as my son.”

Phantom spluttered, pressing his hands against his face but peeking between his fingers to watch her. The white gloves stood out starkly against his flushed-green skin. “Are you for real?”

“Oh, I’m for real.” She smiled at him, then decided to take mercy and turn away. Instead she started rummaging through the fridge, hoping to find something to warm up – cooking an entirely new meal would take too long. “I feel like he never eats, and I’m not sure why. And you, Phantom, might be busy, but that’s no reason to skip meals!”

The ghost continued to sputter behind her, and her grin grew wider. Not that he could see, anyway, since she was still facing the fridge.

Speaking of which, wow, what a sad sight. She definitely needed to do groceries. Might as well take a trip to the mall too, take Dani along so she can buy some more clothes. Her hoodie and shorts certainly seemed like actual human clothes, but Maddie highly doubted that she owned a lot of those. Maybe even nothing besides what she was wearing. And really, that wouldn’t do.

She clicked her tongue, straightening up again. But the kitchen was empty – Phantom seemed to have left. Strange. She hadn’t heard Dani call for him, but maybe he had left to escape the situation. That, or maybe he had just gone invisible. Really, she had no way to tell.

Instead she wandered over to the living room, pausing in the doorway. Watched her husband sitting on the couch, Dani curled up next to him, with Jazz sitting on the armchair and Danny standing close by. They were all talking animatedly, but Maddie couldn’t overhear from where she stood.

They looked happy, though.

The bellowing voice of her dad startled Jazz into awareness. She blinked, dully, at the open book in front of her. Then she rubbed her eyes, frowned at the clock, and got up. Was dinner done already?

She exited her room, trying to neaten her hair back into her hairband. Made her way down the stairs and saw her dad sitting on the couch, Danny sitting next to him.

Stopped. Looked again.

That wasn’t Danny. That was some girl who, for whatever reason, looked almost exactly like Danny. What the hell?

“Dad,” she finally managed to say, eyes still locked on the girl sitting next to him, “Who is that?”

“Jazzy-Pants!” he cheerily greeted her back, one massive arm curled around the tiny girl. Her black hair was mussed up, looking like it had been subjected to Jack’s ruffling several times already. “That’s what I was hoping to talk to you and Danny about! Do you know if your brother is coming, too?”

“No clue,” she answered, moments before hearing a door slam upstairs. “Oh, no, there he is already. Never mind.”

And, as if timed, Danny appeared at the top of the stairs. Looked over from her, standing at the bottom, to the couch with Jack and his female look-alike.

“Huh,” he said, eyes darting between all of them again. “That’s… huh.”

The girl on the couch giggled, but when Jazz looked over at her she buried her face in Jack’s side to hide. Hmm. Shy, maybe?

“That’s a good way to summarize it, son.” Jack grinned brightly, patting the girl on her back. “Come on, have a seat. It’s kind of a complicated story.”

“Please tell me you didn’t accidentally create a new kid in the lab,” Jazz muttered darkly, claiming the armchair as hers. “Because while I’m not opposed to having a baby sister, there are more normal ways of acquiring children.”

“Well, you’re pretty close actually.” Jack scratched his cheek, and Jazz felt her brain grind to a halt.

“Excuse me?” she snapped, wide eyes darting back to the girl. She really did look suspiciously much like Danny, except younger. Just slightly off. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Pretty sure he was about to tell us,” Danny grumbled, pushing her back into the seat. Instead of sitting down as well he simply leaned against the arm of the chair, his own arms crossed. “So if you’ll just settle down…”

“How are you not freaked out about this?” Her eyes shot between him and Jack and the girl curled against Jack’s side. “He just said–”

“That you were close, but not entirely right. So let him talk, big sis, and he’ll explain. Right, Dad?”

“Uh, right.” The man in question nodded exuberantly, then ruffled the girl’s hair before leaning forward. “So, yes, she was created in a lab. But no, we didn’t do it nor were we responsible in any way.”

“But…” Jazz turned to stare at the girl, meaningfully. “I mean, come on, can you not see the resemblance?”

“A ghost called Plasmius created her. Cloned her, sort of,” Jack started to explain, gesturing with his hands. “He tried creating a clone of Phantom, but apparently that didn’t work out well. So he used human DNA as well, of an unknown source.”

“Oh,” she said. Next to her, Danny remained silent and still. His gaze was locked on the girl. And Jazz might not know what was going through his head, but she sure knew what was going through her own. The resemblance was uncanny. It was incredibly unlikely that Plasmius could’ve combined the DNA from Phantom and a random human being that wasn’t Danny and ended up with someone so much like him. Right?

Jack cleared his throat, smiling comfortingly. “So, yeah. This is, uh, Danielle. She goes by Dani.”

“With an I,” the girl – clone? – said, speaking up for the first time since Jazz had joined them. “It’s Dani with an I.”

“But wait.” Jazz held up her hand, halting the conversation. “If she’s a clone from Phantom, wouldn’t she be, I dunno, a ghost? Or at least have like… white hair or green eyes or something?”

“She does,” Jack started to say, while Dani simultaneously protested with “I do.” The two of them paused, turned to look at the other, then shrugged. It was Dani who spoke up again.

“I do,” she repeated, crossing her arms with a disgruntled huff. “But only in my ghost form. I’m half ghost, but I can shift between which side is more dominant. So now I look human, but I’ve still got a core, and by triggering it I can become more ghostly, and I’ll look more like Phantom.”

Beside her, Danny hummed, thoughtfully. She turned her head to quirk a brow at him, but he ignored her to keep looking at Dani. At his sort-of probably clone? Wow, that was weird to consider.

“So… I’m guessing she’s here for a reason?” Danny cocked his head at the two on the couch. “Is she just here temporarily, or…?”

“Well,” Jack scratched his cheek, grinning sheepishly, “We were kinda hoping you kids were okay with her staying here permanently. Phantom is already basically family, and, well.” He gestured at her, and both Jazz and Danny nodded their understanding. “Plus, she’s just a child. She needs – deserves – a family, and you can bet that the ghost who created her wasn’t planning on giving her one.”

A pregnant pause. The idea made sense, at first glance; a ghost who was willing to just create new life like that likely wouldn’t make good family, no. But neither did they, and it was already hard enough to handle the household with the four of them. Who knew what kind of complications a half-ghost clone could bring?

Before she could say anything, though, Danny blurted out, “I’m alright with it.”

“What?” Jazz snapped, whirling around to look at him. Danny himself fidgeted under her stare, an uncertain smile on his face. “Danny, no offense, but do you really think that we’re the right family for her?”

Dani gasped on the couch, and Jazz turned to look at her again.

“Well, yeah,” Danny started to explain himself beside her, forcing Jazz to look away from the sparkling blue eyes on the couch. “I mean, if she’s part ghost she should be with ghost experts, right? And we already know Phantom, so. Obviously we’re the best family for her.”

Jazz blinked at him. “Did you just… Yeah, no, I guess you’re right. That makes perfect sense.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Danny grumbled, rolling his eyes at her. “I’m not that stupid.”

“Sure don’t look like it.” She shook her head, then turned to look at Dani again. “I guess they both have very good points, so. I’m okay with it too. Dani, if you want, welcome to our family.”

“It’s a mess,” Danny warned dryly, a wide grin on his face as he pushed away from the chair. “This is your first and only warning.”

Dani laughed. “I think I’ll be alright,” she managed in-between giggles. “I’ve got ghost powers, how bad can it be?”

“Not sure if ghost powers can protect you from ecto-powered food, to be honest.” Jazz hummed, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “Little brother, do you think you can go intangible to avoid getting bitten by the Franken-Weenies?”

“Probably not,” he answered with the same tone of faux-thought. “Although if she can shoot ecto-rays on her own power she might be able to fend them off.”

Jazz snapped her fingers, turning to point at Dani. “That’s perfect! Now we won’t have to use a baseball bat if the turkey comes back to life!”

“That was one time!” Jack grumbled, resigned but with a fond tone beneath it. “And so were the hotdogs!”

“Not if you count up all the separate times food came back to life.” Jazz quirked a brow at him, and he huffed. “Just because they’re different products doesn’t take away that it shouldn’t be alive.”

Before they could bicker more, however, Maddie joined them. “Speaking of food, kids, anyone opposed to having pizza today?”

“Hadn’t you already started on dinner?” Jazz frowned at her. Sure, the thing with Phantom and Dani had probably taken a while, but surely not this long?

“It kind of wilted away while we were talking with Dani and Phantom,” her mother admitted with a sheepish smile. “Besides, we’ve got something to celebrate, right?”

“I’m okay with it.” Danny shrugged, a wide grin on his face. “Pizza is never wrong.”

“Boys,” Jazz huffed under her breath. Not quiet enough, apparently, based on the soft giggle from Dani on the couch.

Well, would you look at that. She had a good sense of humor, too. Maybe a tad more common sense than the others, too. Wouldn’t that be something?

#danny phantom #phanfic #dp fanfic #phanfiction #dp fanfiction #danny fenton #dani phantom #jack fenton #maddie fenton #jazz fenton #dark writes #what a nice surprise

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fandomoniumflurry · 5 years ago

Text

The Rover

Jo Harvelle x Trisha Kay Johnston(OFC)

Rating Mature

@spnabobingo Square: Alpha Female

@spnsongchallengebingo Song: Closer by The Chainsmokers

Warnings: abo dynamics, angst, fluff, unbeta’d

word count: 4.6k

taggers: @becs-bunker @keepcalmimthecupcake @janai-mcgarrett @hunterswearingplaid

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All my life, I was trained in the way of the Omega. I was expected to be a submissive and quiet mate, bearer of pups and able to raise them with softness and compassion, able to cook and clean and please my Alpha, to be the perfect little housewife. I hated every moment of it. The years of schooling and practicing, it was like I was a delicate little princess, locked away in a tower, unable to experience the world and be myself. I could cook but all I wanted was Mcdonalds, I could clean but I wish I could be lazy. I could sew, mend and press my dresses but I just wanted to put on a comfy pair of sweats and stay in my bed. My hair was curled and combed, colored and soft and I wished I could just throw it up in a bun on top of my head or stuff it inside of a beanie.

The only thing I loved about my training is my interaction with children. I adore kids and honestly I wouldn’t mind having pups. I’m good with kids and they love me. I don’t think it has anything to do with being Omega or at least training to be an Omega. I hadn’t even presented yet. People were actually starting to worry that I was just going to end up being Beta, which heaven forbid, would be the worst thing ever. It actually sounds far better than my alternative.

Every woman in my family has been Omega. They pride themselves in the purity of the genetic line. Most of the men have been Alphas but they aren’t as big of a deal apparently. They can be Betas and they wouldn’t be treated any differently. But they’d be looked down on if any of them turned out to be an Omega. Like it’s against nature if we turn out to be anything other than what we’re expected to be. We have no control over our biology, we shouldn’t get shamed or thought less of for what nature chose us to be.

It never made sense to me why women /had/ to be Omega and men /had/ to be Alphas. Who made the rules? Who set the standard? It was like gender identity and sexual preference. It’s your life, who dictates the rights and wrongs for our existence? But I digress. This story isn’t about me climbing up on my soapbox and giving my opinion. This is about how a cute little Omega girl turned out to be a strong Alpha female.

Like I said, I was raised to be an Omega, just like my older sister and my mother before me. Dinner parties, dances, recitals, debutante balls, the whole nine yards. I was a pretty pretty butterfly and yet I felt like an ugly caterpillar suffocating in my cocoon, one that my mother tied wings to and paraded me around in the disguise. I love my mother, don’t get me wrong but she doesn’t know a thing about me.

She knows the girl she created, the young woman she wanted me to be, the woman she was molding me to be. My name is Trisha Kay Johnston, named after my mother Trisha and my Dad Kent. Everyone calls me Kay. I’m the straight little girl, holding onto her purity for the knot of her one true Alpha. But no one knew the real me.

The truth is, I was far from straight and definitely far from pure. I have always led a double life, always been different, never truly the person anyone wanted me to be. I tried to confide in my sister, tell her about the private me but she told me to keep it to myself and it was never brought up again after that. The group of friends I had at school, the private all girls school, saw me one way while the friends I had outside of school never knew about my feminine side.

I had a best friend once, someone who knew me inside and out. It was just for a short time, back when I went to an actual public school with boys and girls and people who didn’t have to wear plaid skirts and perfect little black shoes that killed your feet. Sam Winchester was a cool kid, kind of short and scrawny but stronger than he looked. He was smart, funny and an awesome listener. He never treated me like a delicate flower, never spoke down to me and saw me for who I was. We were equals and became tight very quickly. But he was gone after only a month. We tried to keep in touch but we were young and you know how it goes. Out of sight and out of mind. I never forgot about him though and I’ve always hoped that maybe one day I’d see him again.

Looking at colleges was fun, my mom wanting to send me to a women’s college in state and me just wanting to go to a normal school out of state. My mother always tried to keep me under her thumb and not wishing to rock the boat, I mostly just fell in line and followed her orders. I just kept telling myself, ‘just a little while longer then I can graduate and be on my own, finally be free.’ But the only way I could do that was to fight for my right to go to college far away. It would be quite a feat to try and get my mother to let me go but thankfully, I had my dad’s help.

If there was any one person that loved me for me, supported me and tried to get to know me, it was my father. My mother was quite a fiery little Omega and even though my dad was a tall Alpha, he was the sweetest and quietest man I’ve ever known. I always questioned my parent’s bond, wondering what brought the Alpha and Omega together. They never spoke of their past, never told the story of their mating. I have seen the mark on my mother’s neck and the matching one she gave my father but I never understood how the two of them found each other and stayed together for so long. They never really fought but they never showed affection either. It was an odd relationship and not the one I wanted to mirror.

Anyway, I ended up in college a few hours away, living in the dorms and living my own life. I could finally dress the way I wanted, hang out with who I wanted and do everything that I wanted. I got to experience what life could be like outside of my mother’s control. But I still hadn’t presented. It wasn’t entirely uncommon. Some people just presented late or maybe I wasn’t going to present at all, which I was still hoping for.

Senior year finally came and the moment I stepped into my room for my last year, I stripped out of my dress, shedding my summer identity and relaxed after months of being home. I had the same roommates for the past three years, Tyler, Kiera, and Mike. We started together so we swore we’d end it together. What no one had expected was Mike’s mom to pass away unexpectedly and him dropping out to stay home to help his dad take care of his three little sisters. That meant that there would be a last minute roommate thrown into our suite.

Not that I hated the idea of a new guy but training them when we were all set in our ways wasn’t something I necessarily looked forward to my last year of college. And from what I heard, it was going to be a freshman which made it even more annoying. But I wasn’t going to let it bother me, I was going to look on the bright side and all that.

How was I supposed to know that the new roommate would arrive before me? So there I was ripping my dress over my head, bearing it all without even thinking about it and the poor freshman was frozen in the middle of the room. With dropped jaw, her eyes were not on my face. I stood there in my underwear, in front of a gorgeous blonde, lost in silence as she looked me up and down. My skin warmed and I knew I was bright red. She, on the other hand, smirked and her arms moved to cross over her chest.

“Quite the first impression, Miss Johnston.” She cooed and my lips parted in a sigh at the sound of her smooth tone.

I wanted to say something, wished I could make a sound of any kind but for some reason I was completely enraptured. Stunned and locked in my own body. This wasn’t the first woman to ever see me nearly naked and yet I never felt this hot. I couldn’t explain the way her gaze made my skin burn and tingle, the way she smelled, the way she made my heart race and nearly burst from my chest. The butterflies in my stomach turned to bats then into pterodactyls before I was bent over in pain, covered in sweat.

It was unlike anything I had ever felt before. It was painful and yet arousing. My core clenched around nothing and I was panting and breathless, writhing on the floor. She was on her knees and at my side within a second and the moment her skin touched mine, it seemed to ease the pain just a little. But it also left me wanting more. I groaned but it sounded more like a moan as her fingers burned a trail down my bare arm. I could hear her own breathing speeding up and her eyes were wide and dark, holding something I could only explain as desire mingled with her concern.

Her smell became overwhelming and intoxicating, to the point it was making me lightheaded and dizzy. My eyes closed as I breathed her in and the way she continued to touch me, assured me that I wasn’t the only one affected by whatever was happening between us. I didn’t know what to do, how to respond or what to say in that moment but when my eyes opened and caught hers, I knew I was a goner.

“Alpha.” The word was a whisper on the girl’s tongue and I was confused. She took my hand and lifted it to press it against her heart. It was as quick as a hummingbird’s wings and the feel of it made me hum with appreciation. I still didn’t understand but when she laid down on the floor next to me and curled herself against me, I didn’t care what was happening. “You’re going into rut.” Her lips were within reach of my own as she breathed the words against me.

My eyes widened in fear at the realization. I was presenting. And I wasn’t an Omega. I was Alpha. The fear turned to relief and the relief turned to elation, a wide smile parting my quivering lips. My arms wrapped around the petite woman and my lips crashed against hers hungrily. She melted into my kiss and molded her body tight against me, hands touching, exploring, memorizing each other. I never studied the ins and outs of the Alpha/Omega dynamics, the science behind bonds and mating and all that. But in that moment, it all just seemed to click.

“Omega.” My voice was husky against her mouth and I swallowed down the moan the word dragged from her. Years of training to be an Omega, I never could have expected to present as an Alpha. I never could have expected the rush, the pain, the pleasure, the desire of a rut and the high and Omega’s heat caused. And that’s what was happening. The moment we were thrust into the same room, she triggered my presentation and I sent her into her heat.

“Jo.” She breathed as I nibbled on the soft flash of her neck. I hummed in question at the word and when she said it next she was a little louder and her nails dug into the muscle of my shoulders. “Jo Harvelle. My name.” She didn’t say anything for a moment as my tongue laved into her clavicle. I seemed to hit a sensitive spot because she moaned my name. “Trisha.”

“Kay.” I corrected, nibbling on her skin with a chuckle. “Call me Kay.” She had clearly done her homework, learning my name so she didn’t come in blind. It was more than I had done. I didn’t even check to make sure when she was coming in. But now I was hyper aware of her and I couldn’t believe I had ever lived without her.

There we were, on the floor, making out like horny teenagers, me in my underwear and her in these ass tight jeans and thin black tank top. She was humping my thigh and making the most delicious noises as she grinded herself closer and closer to climax. I had made out with plenty of girls, had plenty of one night stands and yet none of them were anything like this. They had all been Betas, everyday average girls that smelled like vanilla or cotton candy. But Jo. She was so much different than anything I had ever known.

She smelled so sweet and tasted even sweeter. I couldn’t wait to taste the slick that I could smell and I could feel the heat against my thigh. We knew nothing about each other, other than the fact that we were made for each other. I rolled her onto her back and resting my knees on either side of her hips, I rutted against her as our tongues tangled and she pulled at my hair.

The clearing of a throat wasn’t even enough to pull us away from each other. Whoever had walked into the room obviously gave up when they smelled the intense mingling of our arousal. No one intruded again after that. Good thing too, because for hours we were on that floor, orgasm after orgasm and I didn’t understand how it would be possible for an alpha female to knot but I learned quickly and I learned I loved to make her scream.

I never realized how long a rut could last especially the first one but I was out of commission for nearly a week and poor Jo missed the first days of classes because of her heat. But we really got to know each other. Hours of talking in between hot and sweaty fucks. We talked about dreams and wishes, fears and pains. It wasn’t until the fifth day that we started talking about our families.

I learned that her father had died when she was young and that it had just been her and her mother ever since. Her mother was controlling and wanted something for her that she didn’t want at all. She didn’t even want to be in college but went anyway to please her mother. We commiserate in the fact that we both had overbearing mothers. Her mom sounded a lot better than mine though. But Ellen and Bill were both Beta so Jo wasn’t expected to be an Omega. She told me about how she had never been with an Alpha. What was even more surprising was the fact that she had never been with a woman before. She could have fooled me. It sounded like her mother would be accepting and supportive of her choice of an Alpha.

Mine was going to be a different story. My mother was going to have a cow when she hears that I presented as Alpha. What makes it worse was the fact that my Omega was a woman. A woman that was four years younger than me, a girl just starting her college career. She was from Nebraska, she had a knife collection and knew how to shoot a gun. She had been raised in a bar full of hunters, rugged, Alpha males wearing plaid and smelling like blood, sweat, and liquor. I didn’t know Bambi killers had their own hangouts but Jo just laughed at me when I said that. This girl was everything I wanted and everything that my mother didn’t.

The relationship was kept hush hush. There was no way I could tell my parents, at least not right now. I just needed to focus on graduating, getting a job, and starting my own life. I needed to get to know her, have her to myself and not deal with the drama sharing her would bring. So our friends knew about us but outside of the campus property, no one was the wiser.

I always thrived at college, got good grades, excelled in my classes, I even managed a full time job along with getting all my assignments and projects done. It was no surprise that I was able to maintain a relationship at the same time. Jo didn’t seem as easily acclimated to college life. She tried working part time but between classes, homework, and being with me or friends, she just wasn’t keeping up. The only friends she knew were mine, the only parties she went to were ones I took her to, she quit her job and still couldn’t keep up with her schoolwork. I was starting to think after only one semester that she wasn’t cut out to be here. She even said herself that she didn’t want to come in the first place and even though she was glad she did because she met me, she really didn’t think she would stay after I graduated.

I told her to at least finish out the year. She agreed and when we parted for Christmas, she made me promise that I would try and talk to my mom about everything. I told her I would try and talk to her as often as I could but it didn’t make it easier to part. When she dropped me off at the airport, we waited until the last moment to pull away and I nearly missed my flight because I didn’t want to let her go. She was crying as she waved to me and I just smiled comfortingly as I waved back and disappeared.

I know I promised her that I’d talk to my mother but I had talked myself out of it during the short flight home. Unfortunately, it wasn’t like I could keep some things secret. The moment I drew close to my parents who were waiting for me in the airport, I knew that they knew. The reactions were totally different. My dad seemed surprised but indifferent, almost as if he had expected it. My mom on the other hand, was utterly mortified. This of course, led to quite the fight. Between my Alpha temperament and my mother’s fiery temper, we could have easily gone to blows if it wasn’t for my dad.

She tried to get me to go to get a forced transformation, still trying so hard to get me to be Omega. When I told her I couldn’t do that to my Omega that started a whole new discussion. She looked down on male omegas which I found funny and she hated that I was laughing when I told her I didn’t have a male Omega. I finally just walked away and locked myself in my room. Jo was the first person I called. I hated when I cried but I couldn’t help it, I broke down. She offered to drive down and get me and as much as I wanted to be with her, I couldn’t run away right now.

I managed to have some time with my dad and got to have a quiet conversation about everything. And that was when he finally told me the real story behind him and my mother. A lot of stuff began to make sense the more information he shared. They had dated in high school but broke up when my dad went off to college. They didn’t talk for all four years while he was away and in that time, my dad had found an Omega. He said that she was his one and he even claimed her.

A terrible car accident had taken her life and dad nearly died as well. He survived but he wished that he had died along with his Omega. But somehow he carried on. He was in a hotel bar one night, traveling for his job and he saw my mom for the first time in years. She was beautiful and he was lonely. Things got heated and somehow they ended up in the back of her Rover, a mattress in the back since she had been living in it for the past few months. He didn’t know what happened but somehow he ended up claiming her that night. My dad, the good guy that he is, stayed with her even though she wasn’t the one he wanted. My heart broke for my dad but at the same time I had respect for a man that would take care of my mother even though he didn’t love her. He grew to love her but it wasn’t the same love he held for his lost Omega.

I didn’t understand why he was telling me now after all these years. But the more I thought about it, the more it made me understand my mother. It didn’t justify her actions or her attitude but it made me realize why she was the way she was. She was claimed, had been taken care of by a man that didn’t even want to be her Alpha. She had a home, a family and yet she never had that person, her true mate. Her Alpha’s heart would always belong to someone else, not fully to her. She had wanted to live vicariously through me and my sister. Make us into the best Omegas and then help us find our true Alphas. It still didn’t explain why she was so against me being Alpha and finding my Omega. So I decided I’d go ask her.

She heaved a sigh and I knew I was in for a long story. Another story that I wasn’t prepared for and definitely wasn’t expecting. “I wasn’t presented yet when I originally met your father in high school. Like you, I was being raised to be an Omega, just like my mother before me. I liked your father but I had my eyes on someone else. But because of my family, I couldn’t be with that other person. I was only dating your father so I could secretly see this other person. He never knew. The poor guy seemed heartbroken when we broke up. But I was glad to hear that he had found his Omega. In the meantime…” Her lip quivered and her eyes looked down for a moment, the words she was about to say clearly painful. I hadn’t meant to bring up old painful memories but I needed to know. I nodded for her to continue and she sniffled before nodding in return.

“I presented as an Alpha.” Her words shook me and I couldn’t do anything but stare at her with wide eyes. She nodded, assuring me that she spoke the truth. I couldn’t say a word and so she continued with her tale. “My friend…she was Omega.” The pieces seemed to fall into place and my jaw dropped. My mother’s story was exactly like mine. “My father found us, at a concert in Tucson. Drug me back home and I never saw her again. I’m sure she thought I abandoned her. I never forgot her but eventually I had to move on.” She pulled the shoulder of her blouse down, showing me a tattoo of a butterfly with the name ‘Stacia’ within it. “My mother made me go through the transformation into Omega. It was a long painful process, something I never would wish on anyone.” She looked at me and I could see the apology written in her gaze. I just took her hand and nodded, giving her my wordless forgiveness.

“I was running away again when your father found me at the hotel bar. We were both heartbroken and lonely and one thing lead to another and we ended up claimed in the same Rover where I had almost claimed my own Omega. I love your father, truly I do. But we both lost the loves of our life all those years ago and we have just never been the same. He’s my best friend and we’ve helped each other through everything.”

“Then why do you want me to be an Omega? If you were forced to be changed and you lost your chance at an Omega, why would you want to do the same thing to me? I would think you’d want to encourage me to go after the one thing you never had.” She began to cry as I spoke, nodding her head before she sobbed. I regretted my words and I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. She sobbed for a while, releasing years of pain and sadness and the weight of it made me cry right along with her. I understood my mother now more than ever.

As if she could shut off her emotions, her head shot up and she looked at me with intense wide gaze, her hands resting on my shoulders. “You have to be with her. Don’t let her go just because of your family. You deserve to be happy. Don’t settle, don’t change for anyone. Go after your happiness.” Her tear stained cheeks wrinkled as she smiled softly as she caressed my cheeks. “You’re perfect just the way you are and I’m so sorry I tried to change you.”

“Do you still have that Rover?” I asked with purpose. Her eyes lit up as her smile grew. She nodded and quickly rose from her bed and took my hand, rushing from the room. Dad didn’t seem confused as we rushed to the garage to the pile of rubble and junk. She let go of me and frantically began to dig, things being thrown left and right. A tarp finally came into view and when she was able, she ripped the fabric away to reveal the old Land Rover that I knew my mother could have never been able to afford.

She smiled and leaned into the front seat and pulled out the keys and turned to me. She placed the keys into my hand and then hugged me tightly. “You’ll put it to better use.” She pulled back and gave me a wink. “Put the mattress to use again.” She giggled when my cheeks turned pink. “Go get your Omega. Bring her back here. I would love to meet the woman that was lucky enough to get you.” A tear slid down my cheek and I hugged her again. After I pulled away, I wasted no time and hopped into the SUV, hoping that it still ran. I wasn’t surprised though when it roared to life. I was sure that my mom would keep it up and running if not just for nostalgia’s sake.

I called Jo, told her about my mother and all the stories I had been told over the day. I told her to pack a bag and that I was on my way to Nebraska.

#spnabobingo #spnsongchallengebingo #closer by the chainsmokers #alpha female #ofc #jo harvelle #spn #supernatural #jo x ofc #closer #the chainsmokers #abo #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega #bingo #mikey writey #idk wtf this even is #but here ya go #unbeta'd

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silverfootstepswrites · 7 years ago

Text

Butterfly [42]

summary Nosy neighbors know nothing everything.

“I’m dead serious, Inuzuka,” Shikamaru declared. He sat up straight, hands clasped on the table. The proper posture made Kiba’s eyes narrow.

Kiba lifted a slice of persimmon to his mouth. He crunched through it, eyes filled with suspicion as he continued to glare at Shikamaru.

“You’re sure?” asked Kiba.

“100%,” answered Shikamaru, face solemn.

Kiba’s eyes darted to the doorway. Shikamaru’s did too.

Through the open door, they could see Sakura standing at the sink, her back to them. The water running in the sink masked most of what she was saying. But as she turned her head to the side, they could see that she was laughing. She handed off a dish to Itachi, who was apparently in charge of drying. Kiba’s head whipped back. He ducked his head, as if that would somehow make him invisible.

“You’re absolutely certain?” Kiba demanded one last time. Shikamaru gave a single nod of his head.

Kiba stole another glance through the doorway. And then he shrugged.

“Okay. I mean, I don’t see it, but you’re the smart one. I guess he likes her,” Kiba muttered, expression still filled with doubt.

“Sensei. Your phone is ringing,” one of the students called out. But then she saw that Sakura was up on the ladder and ran to fetch it instead. She hurried back, reaching back as high as she could.

Kiba’s name flashed across the screen in silent. Sakura accepted it, mouthing ‘thanks’ to the student as she swiped her finger.

“What’s up, Inuzuka? It’s rare for you to call during the day,” she said. With her free hand, she slapped the spines of the books so that they all stood up straight. She gripped the side of the ladder as she spoke.

“Hey. Come see your cat,” Kiba said over the phone.

“Inuzuka. It’s not my cat,” she huffed. She was starting to feel like a broken record.

“Okay. I’ll see you later when you come visit. Bye!” Kiba yelled in one breath. He hung up before she could say anything else. Pulling the phone away from her ear, Sakura stared at it. She shook her head before she slipped it into her skirt pocket. One of the students steadied the ladder as she climbed down it.

“That sounded urgent, Sensei. Is everything okay?” one of the girls asked. Sakura made a face.

“It’s not worth repeating,” she sighed in response.

The girl who had retrieved Sakura’s phone leaned against the book cart.

“Back to my question, Sensei. What do you think I should do?” she insisted. She shook the cart a little. It rattled on its locked wheels.

Sakura blinked, as if to clear her thoughts. “Oh, yeah. Well, uh, did your parents say why they were so opposed to you going to Tokyo for university?”

She wasn’t really well-equipped to offer this kind of life advice. Sakura had never really experienced parental opposition and she had never really gone through teenage rebellion. Still, she could understand why some of the students were frustrated by the rules put in place by their parents. Sakura could also see how those rules were trying to protect them. The best she could was try to explain both sides.

Most of the time, the students grumbled that she wasn’t helpful. On the rare occasion, she said something that seemed to click. But Sakura was starting to see that it wasn’t really her fumbling advice that these students came to hear. They just wanted someone to listen to them.

The bell rang to signal the end of lunch. The girls helped move the cart to the back room. They greeted Sakura in a cheerful chorus before they left the library.

She ran into Shikamaru in the hallway. He was mid-yawn, arms stretched above his head.

“What’re we doing for Christmas?” she asked, falling into step beside him. She saw the odd look that flashed across his face. Just for a second. But a sly smile stretched her mouth.

“Unless you’ve already got plans? Who’s the lucky lady blessed to have a date with Nara Shikamaru?” Sakura demanded, poking her fingers into his side. Shikamaru swatted her hands away with his clipboard.

“Ow! Quit it! No one!” Shikamaru insisted. And when Sakura pouted, he bumped his fist against her shoulder.

“It’s just the singles club this year. And beer. And a cake, I guess,” he listed. Sakura considered this, nodding.

“Doesn’t sound like the worst party ever,” she said.

“Yeah,” agreed Shikamaru, sighing. And then he crossed his arms behind his head.

“I heard you’re adopting a cat,” he then commented.

“I’m going to murder Inuzuka and then you,” she declared. Shikamaru chuckled as they headed into the faculty room together.

Once school ended, Sakura headed to the rink. Kushina greeted her from the counter. She pointed to the new newspaper clipping she had taped to the wall next to the counter. The title of the article read, “The story behind figure skater Shimizu Haku’s programs this season.”

“They mention you a bunch of times in the article!” Kushina told her. And Sakura smiled, equal parts embarrassed and thankful. What had started off as a tiny space had grown into an enormous clump. Just like her mother had done, Kushina pounced on every mention of her name in the news. Newspapers, magazines- even online publications. Kushina posted every single thing she could.

The smile lingered on Sakura’s face as she headed onto the ice.

One of her favorite bands had released a new album just a few days before. She let the entire album play as she glided back and forth across the rink. A few of the songs caught her attention. They were worth choreographing something to. But she didn’t focus too much on that. Just moving the way that the rhythm guided her. She waved at Naruto when he slipped inside after finishing his homework. She wasn’t really in the mood to chat. And he let her skate unbothered, leaning against the side of the rink to watch her.

“Nee-chan, let me walk you home. It’s getting dark,” Naruto offered when she changed out of her skates. Sakura spared him a glance as she laced up her boots.

“Aw, that’s sweet, Naruto. But I’ll be fine,” she replied. She pulled a beanie over her messy hair. Clapping him on the shoulder, she hoisted her duffel bag onto her shoulder and walked past him.

And though she had made up her mind to ignore Kiba, she couldn’t help but glance down at her phone. The clinic would be closing soon. But Kiba would still be around. Sakura hesitated, turning this way and that on the road. Weighing the options.

Heaving a sigh, she decided that it would be just a little too cruel to ignore Kiba. And on the off-chance that he actually had a good reason for asking her to come by, Sakura took off in a steady jog in the direction of the clinic.

By the time Sakura arrived, it was completely dark outside. She walked in through the front door. The bell attached to the door jangled. The reception desk was empty. The door leading further into the clinic was ajar, though. And then she heard Kiba’s voice.

“Haruno?”

“Hi,” she replied. She pushed past the door. She peered into the examination rooms, but they were empty. All the lights off. She wandered deeper in. The cages where they kept the patients staying overnight were empty too. The little dog she had seen last time had gone home to its owner.

Finally, she saw light shining out from the storage room. Kiba sat on the floor.

The box housing the kittens was tucked into the corner, closer to the space heater. Kiba had swapped out the towels lining the box. They were purple now.

Sakura crouched beside Kiba. She swatted his back once.

“Alright, drama queen. Why did I absolutely have to come here?” she questioned.

Kiba pointed.

“They opened their eyes today,” he announced.

One of the kittens waddled away from its mother. Mewling, it crawled up near the edge of the box to reveal bright blue eyes. A high-pitched noise escaped from Sakura’s mouth.

“Oh,” she said.

“Look. She comes right to you,” Kiba pointed out, nudging her with his elbow. Sakura rolled her eyes. Because it wasn’t just one kitten that was making its way towards her. In fact, she wasn’t sure which one was the one she had held last time out of these balls of fluff. But Kiba picked one out without hesitation.

“Here she is. Say hi to your human mommy, buddy,” Kiba said as he deposited the kitten in Sakura’s hands. The kitten weighed a bit more than she had the last time. She still mewled as she wiggled around in her hands. But as her hands closed around her, the kitten looked right at her. Eyes startling blue and watery. Her nose and mouth were still pink. Her ears were starting to look a little less nubby.

“Hi! Look at you. Aren’t you beautiful?” Sakura cooed. But then she saw Kiba smirking at her.

“I’m not going to adopt her though,” she added in her normal voice. Kiba just nodded, looking completely unconvinced. So she asked, “Why are you so crazy about me adopting this cat anyway?”

Kiba picked up another kitten. Raising it to his face, he planted a kiss on top of its head. And then he shot her another smug look. “Not telling,” he retorted, sticking his tongue out at her. Sakura snorted.

Sakura stroked the kitten’s fur, marveling at how soft it was. She noticed Kiba checking his phone. He set his kitten back down in the box before getting to his feet.

“Ah, shit. My mom says she needs my help. I’m gonna head next-door for a bit,” he told her.

Sakura’s eyes widened. She held up the kitten, who had begun to doze off against her thumb.

“Uh. What am I supposed to do?” she asked.

Kiba looked the kitten over. Gave a shrug. “He looks comfy. Let him nap- just don’t drop him. I’ll be back soon,” he answered.

“Inuzuka? Inuzuka! Get back here!” she hissed after his retreating back. When the door closed behind him, she looked back at her hands. The kitten had draped her tiny paws over her hand. The mother cat watched her from the box. Sakura looked at her.

“So, uh... do you want your baby back?” she asked.

The cat blinked at her before letting out a yawn. She laid her head back down, eyes drifting shut.

“....Great.”

Kiba ran into his house as soon as he closed the door to the clinic. Akamaru came out of the house to greet him. But Kiba couldn’t spare him a scratch in his rush. He barreled straight into the kitchen, nearly toppling his mother.

“Kiba! Don’t run in the house!” she scolded. As she opened up the rice cooker, steam erupted into the air.

“Sorry, Ma! Gotta make a call!” he replied, fumbling to pull his phone from his pocket. He struggled to even out his breaths as the line rang. Tsume stared at her odd son but stayed quiet as he held the phone up to his ear. The call connected on the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Uchiha! Heyyyyy, man,” Kiba said too loudly.

“Hi. Is everything okay?” replied Itachi.

“Huh?”

“....You called me. So.... is there a reason?” Itachi explained.

“Reason? Um... um... “ Kiba fumbled. It struck Kiba then how unfailingly polite Itachi truly was. He even waited as Kiba’s eyes darted all around the kitchen. Trying to find an answer to such a simple question. All he could really see were the sautéed mushrooms sitting in the frying pan.

“D-d-do you like shiitake?” Kiba blurted out.

There was dead silence on the other end of the line. Tsume stared at Kiba. Truly perplexed at how she could have given birth to such a strange and stupid son.

“Shiitake mushrooms? ...I like them,” Itachi answered.

“Cool! Good! Great! Because- uh... my mom made a bunch. And...uh....she- she wants you to come to take some,” Kiba stumbled over his words. And as he spoke, Tsume began protesting that she had only made enough for their dinner tonight. Kiba flapped his hand at her, whispering for her to put them in a container.

“I know, Ma! Just do it! For love!” Kiba hissed, hand clamped over his phone. Tsume’s eyebrows rose.

“No! Not me! For Haruno!” he amended.

Tsume huffed. She glanced from the mushrooms to Kiba. Slapping him upside the head, she moved past him to find a clean container.

“Well, that’s very kind of her. I could come by a little later,” Itachi said.

“Come right now, dude! She uh.... um... Ma?” Kiba petered off. He shot his mother a pleading look. Tsume pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers. She thought for a moment and then whispered, “Tell him to get them when they’re fresh. To have with his dinner tonight.”

“Ma says to get them when they’re fresh! So you can eat ‘em today!” Kiba relayed. Tsume shook her head as she closed the container. The green lid snapped into place.

“Oh. Well, I’m actually in the middle of dinner now. So that would actually be a little inconvenient for me,” Itachi informed them, quite reasonably.

“No can do, dude. Ma says to come now. And you know you should always respect your elders. Okay. Bye,” Kiba babbled out with a nervous laugh. And then he hung up before Itachi could say anything else. Tsume leaned her elbow against the counter, frowning at Kiba as he lowered his phone.

“.... I’ve never even dropped you on your head. Why are you like this?” she wondered.

Itachi walked across town to the Inuzuka Vet Clinic. He had been to the Inuzuka house a few times before. But he had never really spoken to Kiba’s mother beyond small talk. Still, it was very kind of her to think about him and to cook for him. He didn’t want to return her kindness with rudeness.

As he neared the house, his phone buzzed.

‘Mushrooms in the clinic. Go through back door,’ Kiba wrote.

(”Why would you leave it in the clinic? That makes no sense,” Tsume pointed out. “SH! MA!” Kiba snapped, crouching behind the curtains.)

Itachi read over the text twice. And then he slowly made his way around the clinic to the back door. There was a light on. His hand closed around the knob. It turned in his palm, door creaking open.

“Hello?” he called.

Silence answered.

Itachi took one step into the clinic. Then another. Deserted hallways always had a way of creeping him out. Maybe it was all those horror movies he had grown up watching with Shisui.

“Hello?” he said again.

This time, there was an answer.

“Inuzuka, get over here. I’m going to die. Isn’t it bad for this kid not to sleep next to her mom? Am I allowed to put her down? Do I put her down on her butt or the feet things?” Sakura’s voice drifted down the hall. As Itachi stepped closer, he could hear soft meowing. He paused just in front of the room that said ‘storage closet’. He pushed the door open.

Sakura sat on the concrete floor, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. There was a kitten snoozing in her hands. Other furry little figures bobbed around in a cardboard box at her feet. Her head whipped around as he stepped inside.

“Inuzuka!” she snarled. And then her eyes went wide.

“....Hi,” Sakura whispered.

“Hello,” Itachi said in return.

They stared at each other.

“...Are you... crying, Haruno-san?” Itachi finally asked.

“He just left me! With these- I mean. What do I do? I don’t want to wake him up. Is that going to cause kitten trauma or something?” Sakura babbled. Itachi blinked several times.

“I.. was just told that there were shiitake mushrooms back here,” he simply told her.

“What?”

Kiba cackled from behind the curtain in the living room. It had been several minutes since Itachi had walked into the clinic.

“What exactly is the plan?” his mother asked.

“Duh, Ma,” Kiba retorted, looking away from the window, “A guy and a girl alone in a room. You always warned me about that for a reason.” He wagged his finger as he spoke.

Tsume snorted. “Yeah. When you were 16.”

Kiba’s phone rang. He answered without looking, turning back to spy out the window. A grin stretching his mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Why did Uchiha Itachi call me to tell me that you lured him into your clinic with mushrooms... and all he found was Haruno crying with a kitten?” Shikamaru inquired.

“Dude. You make it sound so weird,” Kiba scoffed.

“Dude. That is weird,” Shikamaru pointed out.

“Whatever, man. Just call me Cupid,” Kiba stated.

There was a long silence on the phone. And then he heard Shikamaru call, “Hey, Mom, I’m going over to Kiba’s..... No, he did something weird again.”

#writing #butterfly #itasaku

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prettylilparker · 7 years ago

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a snowman and a snow angel

my masterlist :)

summary: peter parker asks you, his very own snow angel, to meet him on the roof of your shared apartment building complex. but what does your dork of a boyfriend have in store for you?

warnings: wintertime fluff to make u hate cuffing season even more bc u have no one to do this with

word count: 1k

author’s note: in honor of it snowing where i live today, here's a cute fluffy fic of what i want in a bf exactly during wintertime. someone best cuff me soon. u hear me universe? mhm u sweetie! (ALSO, ASK ME TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST!)

You tugged on your knee-high boots, peering out over the open window leading to your fire escape. Snow almost covered the black metal entirely. You shivered, a gust of wind blowing into your tiny bedroom, prompting you to put on a warm winter coat, rub your cold hands together, and maneuver yourself onto the fire escape as swiftly as possible.

You smiled to yourself when your two feet planted firmly onto the white powder, the thought of him waiting for you tugging at every string in your heart.

“Y/n! You forgot your hat,” your mother called. You turned around, stunned, your lips parted and eyes wide.

“Mom, you weren’t supposed to s-“

She tossed the black beanie at your chest, turning around on her heel and grasping your room’s doorknob. She whipped her head around, grinning playfully. “Say ‘hi’ to Peter for me.”

“Wha-“ the door closed while you stood there, still dumbstruck. “How did sh-“ You’re stopped midst your slight internal crisis as you feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket. You dug into the back of your jeans, pulling out the device to see a text from Peter.

Hurry up, loser. Your lips curved upwards at the grey bubble lighting up your screen, staring at it long enough for it to go black, your phone turning off by itself. You shove it back into your pocket, not caring to reply as you’d see the boy in a few seconds anyway.

You pulled on the hat that your mother had given you, trekking up the fire escape carefully as to not fall down the ten flights to the concrete ground.

You were almost at the top, your foot stepping up the last stair when your right heel slipped, jolting you backwards. You screamed, your hands fumbling to catch onto the rail, but proven hopeless as your fingers slip as well.

Quick hands gripped your forearms before any real damage could ensue, a flash of red and blue before you were tugged into a chest. Frantic breaths left Peter’s lips as his hand shakily cradled the back of your head.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god...” was all that he could manage to utter, stroking your hair as you clutched the grey fabric of the sweatshirt that he’d thrown lazily over his suit.

“Are you okay, beautiful?” Peter asked, shuffling backwards to get a good look at your face. He placed his hand against your cheek, then his eyes moved, taking a full body inspection of you, as if he’d be able to see any injuries through your heavy layers of clothing. He watched you intently while you stared at him blankly, the words swarming in your brain failing to leave your lips.

After a few minutes of Peter’s caring eyes not wavering, you gathered your thoughts, coherently saying them aloud. “Peter, I’m perfectly fine. I promise, just a little shaken up. Glad I had my very own superhero to save me is all.”

Peter nodded in response, rubbing a circle along your cheek bone with his thumb. You both simultaneously went in for a kiss, your lips melding into an odd warmth despite the frigid cold surrounding the two of you. He then remembered the surprise he had for you and pulled back gently. He thought that it would surely cheer you up, the previous worried grimace plastered on his face being replaced with a charming smile.

Just the sight of his coffee eyes turning into a bright caramel uplifted your mood, his expression changing yours as well. “So, what is it you wanted me up here for?” You asked, pulling down on the right string of Peter’s hoodie, trying to even out the length of the two pieces of dangling fabric.

Peter watched your fingers, grinning. Simple things like that, fixing the strings of his hoodie, was a constant reminder of his utter head-over-heals love for you. They were simple, minor things that reminded him of how lucky he was to have such an extraordinary (and sometimes very clumsy) girl be such a big part of his life. Hell, he’d even say his whole life. The thought of you being his and doing things like fixing his hoodie made him so damn grateful.

“Earth to Peter,” you chuckled, a blush rising to Peter’s cheeks as the realization hits him that he’d just been staring at you, beaming subconsciously, completely zoning out. How could he help himself? He was in love. The every-thought-consuming kind of love that made him lose track of the world around him when he got the chance to look into your gorgeous eyes.

“Right,” Peter said, intertwining his fingers with yours as he guided you across the snow-covered roof carefully. You had already slipped once tonight, and Peter was doing everything in his possibility to make sure you wouldn’t again, his steal-tight grip on your hand an indicator of this.

You saw a large packed-down ball of snow on the ground and you immediately knew the exact reason Peter was so desperate for you to meet him as soon as possible. The dork wanted to build a snowman together.

“Y/n, meet Bob. Bob, meet Y/n.” You shoved Peter’s shoulder playfully, before he grabbed your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss the freezing skin. Soon, he was packing more snow onto the slowly growing pile, excitement coursing through him like a child playing in snow for the first time.

“You’re such a dork, Peter Benjamin Parker, you know that?”

“A dork who has an unhelpful girlfriend! We have a snowman to build, beautiful! Hurry up!”

“Okay, okay.”

After a day full of snowmen, snow angels, falling in the snow on top of one another, a snowball fight, snow being shoved down each other’s backs, and a whole lot more of snow, the two of you ended up on the couch in Peter’s living room, snuggled up together with cups of hot chocolate made by the one and only May Parker.

Your teeth were chattering slightly still and Peter saw this, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you to sit in between his legs, allowing you to lie down on his chest as he kissed the snowflakes melting in your hair. His hands soon found their way in the strands, lolling you to sleep, but before you were completely out cold you heard Peter whisper, “snow angel,” and you swore you could feel the two of your hearts beating the same rhythm.

tags: (ask if u want to be added) @darling-parker @augurydemon @spidey-schxyler @pillow223 @honeynutholland

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thedefinitionofbts · 7 years ago

Text

Pink Flower Petals (M)

Pairings: Park Jimin x Reader ft. Min Yoongi

Genre: Fluff and Smut, Childhood Friends to Lovers

Words: 9K

Description: Because flowers have to choose the right time to bloom.

Warnings: Mildly Explicit Sexual Content

Dandelions | New Beginnings

You were twelve years old when you received your first flower from Park Jimin.

He was a sweet little kid, your neighbor for as long as you can remember and someone you, more than occasionally, encountered whenever your mother told you to take out the trash or retrieve letters from the mailbox. Despite living right next door, with only a patch of grass and a cement sidewalk separating your two houses, the two of you had barely had any direct interaction, that is, until he walked up to you one warm summer afternoon with a dandelion in his hand while you were sitting on the steps of you front porch reading a colorfully illustrated book.

At the time he was only eleven years old and good half a head shorter than you, not having hit his growth spurt yet. His eyes were curved into crescent shaped moons as he smiled thoughtfully and handed you the fluffy flower shyly, only to bashfully run away after you had awkwardly accepted it.

Park Jimin was the type of kid who made wishes on dandelions and wholeheartedly believed they would one day come true, and that was exactly how you decided to label him after that day.

Orange Daffodils | Childhood Friends

Of course, you did see him again…and again…and again.

Sometimes you caught him staring at you while you were playing with your dolls in the garden of your backyard. Although he would attempt to quickly hide behind the fence, hoping you didn’t catch him red handed, he would often clumsily make too much noise in the process of doing so. You didn’t know if he was just shy or a weird kid in general, but you didn’t think it could hurt to ask him if he wanted to play.

“Hi, I’m Y/N” You say as you walk up to him while he remained “hidden” on the other side of the picket fence, thinking you weren’t aware he was there.

“H-Huh? Oh, m-my name is J-Jimin” He says nervously as he realizes he was terrible at being sneaky and slowly steps out to reveal himself. He was wearing a plaid green and yellow button up shirt under a pair of dark blue denim overalls. His hair was dark and feathery, bangs lazily covering his almond shaped eyes, but you could still see the signature half-moons as he smiled enthusiastically despite the growing embarrassment manifesting in the form of his lightly flushed cheeks.

“Do you want to help me plant some flowers?” You ask, looking at him curiously.

He nods excitedly and squeezes through the space between two adjacent pickets of the fence separating his backyard and yours. Once he’s through, with virtually no struggle at all due to his petite size, you show him over to your mother’s flower garden and the various pots of flowers that had yet to be planted.

Your mother’s flower garden was beautiful, and it always made you feel very grown up knowing that it was your job to take care of it while she was away for work. There were rows upon rows of blue morning glory, pink carnations, yellow chrysanthemums, lavender hydrangea, red tulips, and orange daffodils. You mother loved flowers, and whereas most people would save space in their gardens to plant edible vegetables, your mother opted to fill hers with all of her favorite flowers.

“See? You just dig a hole and then you put everything in the pot, soil and all, into the hole and you cover any spaces with more dirt.” You explain while you show Jimin step by step how to transport the flowers from their pots to the ground.

You watch as he follows your instructions with no complaints at all, satisfied at his charmingly obedient attitude and enamored by his innate docile aura. He was indeed one of the sweetest little boys you’ve ever met, and a quick learner too. After you deem him ready to work on his own, you proceed to plant more flowers yourself.

“Here” He says minutes later, handing you an orange daffodil that he had plucked from one of the unplanted pots.

“Jimin!” You shout. “You’re not supposed to separate them from the roots!”

He jumps a little, started by your sudden reaction. “Oh, sorry” He looks down at his feet, worried that you wouldn’t want to be friends with him anymore after what he did.

You sigh softly. “It’s ok”

Relief floods his face as he slowly looks up and sees that you are smiling again.

“It sure is pretty” You comment as you reach over and take the flower that he was still holding out towards you. It was the brightest shade of orange, and the bottom petals flared out like warm rays of sunshine. You couldn’t help but beam at the endearing sight of it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to pull it out” He apologizes again.

You lift your hand and pat him gently on the head. “Don’t worry, it’ll grow back.”

Jimin takes it as a sign that you still want to be friends and secretly smiles to himself.

A week later, Jimin comes over to your house and invites you to play soccer with his friends, Hoseok and Taehyung, you don’t want to turn down his offer but you also pretty much failed at all sports so you decide to just tag along and watch them play.

You sit on the sidelines as you admired Jimin juggling the ball with his feet, agile movements captivating your eyeballs. Jimin was fast, flexible, and more athletic than most boys his age. Although he was small, his muscles were already well defined. You soon learn from Hoseok that Jimin also enjoys dancing, which explains why his body was able to move so fluidly.

At one point, Taehyung kicks the ball a bit too far and Jimin has to run into the bushes to retrieve it. You turn your attention to the other kids playing at the park, but Jimin’s voice snaps you back towards his direction.

“Look Y/N, I found one!” Jimin squeals as he eagerly runs over with what looked like something orange in his hand.

You get a closer look as his figure approaches you and realize that it’s another orange daffodil. It was smaller than the ones planted in your mother’s garden back at home, but nevertheless vibrant and eye-catching.

“Where did you-?” You begin to question, but realize it was no use. You smile and shake your head in defeat. Park Jimin just loved giving people flowers, and the burst of excitement expressed in his face is just too contagious.

He laughs a little when you scrunch your nose to smell the flower. It was the first time you heard the musical giggle escape his throat, and it was heart warming, truly and utterly heart warming.

Purple Lilac | First Emotion of Love

High school came as quickly as middle school ended. Those awkward pre-teen years were finally a thing of the past and everyone was ready to start a new chapter of their lives, moving on to the next steps in the process of growing up. There were going to be a lot of new challenges to face, the biggest being dealing with puberty and newfound crushes on those of the opposite sex or same for some people.

Although you and Jimin had attended separate middle schools, there was only one high school in your town, so of course the two of you inevitably ended up in the same one. He even had some of the same classes as you, namely literature and math, and you guys also shared the same free period, in which you would attempt to work on homework at the library so you wouldn’t have to do it at home later, but more often than not you would be too distracted by random conversations or the latest gossip to even be remotely productive.

“So I heard there’s this really cute guy on the basketball team” You say to Jimin during lunch one day. The two of you were sitting under the shade of a large oak tree, watching other students play Frisbee on the football field. It was sunny, but the signs of autumn were unmistakable. The crunch of dried, dead leaves could be heard as people ran through the grass, and the wind that blew by contained the light, muffled scent of the approaching winter.

“You mean, Min Yoongi?” Jimin asks, raising his eyebrows and turning to you. He had finally grown to be taller than you, puberty hitting him like a train the summer before freshman year. Even his features had gotten sharper, prominent jawline, large almond shaped eyes, and baby cheeks all but a thing of the past. Despite the change in physical appearance, his personality remained relatively the same and he still retained that distinctive eye smile that you’ve grown to know him by.

“Yeah, that’s his name” You reply eagerly. “I’ve only seen him once, but he seems really cool.” You clearly recall an incident last week, one that you had been replaying over and over in your mind, like some broken tape stuck on repeat. Black beanie, blonde hair peaking out, dark mysterious eyes, and one of the most charming smiles you’ve ever seen.

Jimin laughs nervously. “Yea, he’s really cool…” His voice trails off before he quickly clears his throat. “I mean, he’s not only good at basketball, he’s got some real talent for music too.” He says before taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Really?” With your interest stimulated, you scoot closer to Jimin. “How do you know?” You question, barely able to contain your excitement as you wait for him to finish chewing and answer.

“He’s in my music class.” Jimin replies. “He’s plays the piano and even composes his own songs.”

You gape in awe. Unable to contain your amazement at the new information Jimin has just shared with you.

Jimin gazes out at the field, and a moment of silence passes between the two of you as you continue to drool over this Min Yoongi whom you barely even knew. You don’t notice Jimin sigh, but you do hear his next comment.

“You interested in him?” He asks. He wasn’t looking at you, but instead still staring at the field. “I can set you guys up.” He offers, this time turning to look at your eager face.

You nod enthusiastically. This was it. You were finally going to meet the guy you had accidentally ran into last week, like literally ran into, bodies colliding and everything. The one who had knocked all of the books you had in your arms to the ground, but acted like a gentleman and helped you pick them up. It felt ridiculous to admit it, but ever since you saw him wear that signature black beanie of his, you would mistakenly assume everyone in a black beanie was him.

Park Jimin was reliable, just like you’ve always known him to be because not long after he had offered to set you up with Yoongi, you found yourself staring at his phone number through a text message Jimin had sent you.

Nervously biting your lip, and uncertain if this was being too proactive on your part since it’s usually the guy chasing the girl, you final summon the courage to text Yoongi after an hour of mental debate.

To your utter surprise, Yoongi agrees to grab lunch with you on Saturday. You couldn’t believe it even as your eyes remained fixed on the words glowing from your phone screen. You covered your mouth and squealed in your room for a good half a minute, and even had to bury you face in your pillow so the neighbors wouldn’t think you were crazy.

When the day finally arrived, you woke up extra early, almost earlier than you had to wake up on a normal school day, which was insane because sleeping in on Saturday had always been your favorite time of the week. But the excitement had you all riled up since the night before, and because everything had to be perfect, you also spend double the amount of time putting on makeup and tried on almost every outfit in your closet in search of the perfect one. You decide to settle with something simple, white t-shirt and ripped black jeans; assuming that Yoongi mostly likely wasn’t a fan of the super girly look by the way he liked to dress himself.

And as expected, Min Yoongi was exactly the gentleman you had imagined him to be, already waiting for you at the cafe even though you had even gotten there five minutes early. You notice that he’s wearing a leather jacket and he’s got that same beanie on. He looked so handsome, sitting in the corner, sunlight shinning down on him through the glass window pane, eyes completely focused on the sheet of music in front of him, that you almost don’t want to disturb such an artist in his element. But you take a deep breath and sum up every last ounce of courage to approach.

“Yoongi?” You voice as calmly as you can.

He slowly looks up. “Y/N?” He says, voice oh-so-low and smooth as honey.

You nod shyly, while internally reacting like the teenage girl you were.

The two of you have a relatively silent lunch. Exchanging some generic questions, small talk if you will. There wasn’t that moment of clicking that you had imagined there would be, and Yoongi was clearly trying to be nice by answering some of your stupid questions like, what’s your favorite color and do you always wear a beanie. You blame it on the butterflies in your stomach, but it was blatantly obvious that the two of you barely had any shared interests.

When the two of you finish eating, Yoongi walks you home, past the soccer field and grass-lined roads, through the tunnels under the highways, and across familiar neighborhoods that you grew up driving by sitting in the backseat. You try to strike up another conversation, but you find yourself at loss for words. Yoongi was understandably extremely passionate about music, but you didn’t know squat about it, let alone could voice any deep opinions about artists and song lyrics. He played basketball, that you knew, but sports were never really your thing either. You had only ever been an observer, an admirer from afar.

“Yoongi…?” You murmur nervously.

“Hmmm?” He hums before stopping and turning towards you.

“Are you…ummm….d-dating….” You don’t know what you’re doing, and you don’t know what invisible force was giving you the audacity to ask, but you desperately wanted to get it out into the open and this seemed like a chance, or so your frenzied mind thought.

He pauses and looks at you with kind eyes. “You’re a really sweet girl, and I had a good time with you today, but I don’t think I’m the one for you.” He says reading your thoughts entirely and indirectly answering your primary question without you even having to voice the words out loud. He slides his hands in his pockets and glances at the kids playing soccer in the field.

Your bottom lip quivers, and you don’t know if you heard right, but it most definitely sounded like he was rejecting you. “W-what…?” You utter almost inaudibly. You quickly look down at your feet, feeling the growing embarrassment creep up your neck.

“I may not be the one for you, but I know someone who is” Yoongi says as he looks at you. His gaze was soothing, and his voice light.

You lift your head and look at him confused, raising your eyebrows and opening your mouth to ask, but before you can voice a question, Yoongi speaks again.

“He told me about all the things you like, all the things you don’t like, what to do when you’re upset, stressed, sad, and lonely. Your favorite color, food, song, and movie…” Yoongi goes on and on, until his voice eventually stops and you’re left there dumbfounded.

He turns to look at you. “I’m sure you know who I’m referring to.” Yoongi ruffles your hair and flashes that signature smile of his before walking away.

Maybe you didn’t know and maybe deep down you knew all along, but now that Yoongi has dragged it straight out into broad daylight, there’s no way you could ignore it any longer.

His crescent shaped eye smile appears in the back of your mind and his soft musical laugh echoes in your ears. You recall the time he helped you with math homework all night even though he had a biology exam the next day. The time he gave you his lunch when you had been an idiot and accidentally left yours at home. That cold winter day when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, and that hot summer afternoon when he ran two miles to the store just to buy you ice cream. You look at the patch of dandelions on the side of the soccer field and are reminded of the very first gift you ever received from him, their fluffy seeds carrying the wishes of a boy who dreamed of being with you.

“Jimin” You whisper out loud before turning and sprinting towards his house.

You race past the schoolyard, through house lined neighborhoods and abandoned gas stations, finally reaching the front porch of the house next to yours. There was a basket of purple lilacs on the porch; endearingly reminiscent of the ones Jimin had given to you back when you two had first started high school. Taking in large gulps of air in an attempt to calm your heavy panting and pounding heart, you tentatively lift a hand to knock on the door. Was he home? Will he find this strange?

There was a moment of silence before you heard the lock on the door click.

“Y/N, what are you-“

You jump and wrap your arms around him before he could finish his sentence. Tears were beginning to well up in your eyes, and you knew this was probably not how you should be handling this situation, but you couldn’t help it.

Jimin stands there frozen and clearly confused for an infinitesimal second before slowly wrapping his arms around you. You feel his shoulders begin to relax from their previously tense state.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Are you ok?” Jimin’s concerned voice cuts through your sniffles.

You slowly let go of the hug and wipe your tears with your head facing the ground as to not show Jimin the total mess you looked like.

He reaches over and cups your cheek in his hand, lifting your head, and wiping away your streaky tears with his thumb.

“Y/N?” He repeats the syllables softly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be doing this.” You whimper.

“Was it Yoongi?” He asks, looking into your glossy eyes and wrinkling his forehead in concern.

“No, no it’s not like that” You reply. You bite your lip, trying to decide if being this straightforward in such an embarrassing situation was the best thing to do. But there was no turning back now. “I-I realized…”

Your voice was so soft that Jimin had to lean in closer to hear you. You could smell his cologne and feel the warmth emanating from his body, making your heart pound even harder against your chest.

“I like you” You finally say out loud. You look away, afraid to meet him in the eye.

Jimin looks down at the ground and secretly smiles, he tries to hide his excitement, afraid to scare you off, but in his sixteen years of life, his heart had never felt fuller than it did the moment he heard you say those words to him.

He walks in front of you and puts his hands on your shoulders, looking you straight in the eye, leaning in so close that your noses were basically touching.

“I like you too, Y/N” He whispers, words carried to the crevice of your ear by his soft breathe. “I’ve liked you, for a long, long time.”

Red Rose | Passionate Love

Four years of high school soared by like a rocket ship headed for the moon, and you could barely remember the details. All you knew was that you and Jimin officially started dating sophomore year, and what matted was the two of you are still going strong now. Both of you would be going off to university in the fall, which entails only seeing him in the summer and other breaks, and having to deal with a long distance relationship during the school year, which you weren’t overly worried about, but who really knew right?

“How does going to a movie sound?” Jimin says while he was watching you pack your clothes into the last suitcase you had available. It was hard trying to decide what to bring to college, and you couldn’t stop worrying about whether it’d be better to just pack the bare minimum, making it an easier move in terms of physical labor or to bring everything you could, just in case you happened to need it during the school year. Going to university was a big change; after all you were basically moving your whole life to a new city and starting a brand new adventure.

“Jimin, it’s our last date before going long distance, and all you want to do is watch a movie??” You stop folding your blouse and turn to look at him. He was sitting on your bed and swinging his legs absentmindedly.

“Y/N, I was kidding,” He says with a sly grin, eyes disappearing into perfectly shaped crescents once again. “I’ve been planning this since we got our acceptance letters. You should know me better than to think I, of all boyfriends, would be that lame.”

“I’m just waiting for the day you screw up” You joke, while turning back to the packing task at hand. It wasn’t long before you were tucking in the last pair of socks and zipping up the largest compartment of your luggage.

Jimin had waited patiently the entire time, helping you organize all your things and doing all the heavy lifting (aka carrying the large boxes filled with toiletries and supplies down to the car).

By the time everything was set to go for tomorrow, it was already lunchtime.

“Wanna grab something to eat?” You ask Jimin as you place your hands on your hips, admiring the packed boxes and suitcases stacked in your parents’ SUV.

“Yeah, and then we can get this date started” He grins.

As expected, Jimin didn’t disappoint. He wasn’t kidding when he said he hand been planning this date for ages. That afternoon, he took you around to all of the places that you guys have loved and share fond memories of growing up. The lake where you guys road paddle boats in the summer, the park where you used to go tree climbing and chat just sitting in the branches for entire days at a time. It was an afternoon filled with nostalgia and melancholic emotions, like that gust of change at the end of summer or that transition phase of entering the mystical hour of twilight. You know that feeling when you’re gazing out the car window at the scenery passing by while listening to the type of music that is just perfect for the moment? That’s what it felt like to take a stroll through the past with Jimin by your side, your hand fitting seamlessly into his as he intertwined his fingers with yours and lightly swung your arms back and forth.

In each place he took you, he would bring up old stories that had happened between the two of you, that even you forgot. It was amazing that he still remembered.

“Like that one time you had to pee so badly but didn’t want to go home so you just went in the bushes and I had to keep guard?”

“Oh my god, Jimin, why do you still remember that!?” You huff a sigh of disbelief. “Honestly, what was that? Six years ago?”

He laughs. “I’m sure your brain just wanted to wipe that memory off the face of the earth, but it was pretty unforgettable for me.”

Jimin had a good memory, way better than the average person, which was understandable because he dreams of being a doctor one day, and those biology courses are going to require a ton of memorization. But even someone with a skilled memory like his would have a hard time recalling details as specific as the way you smelled when the two of you went on your first date or the color of your eye shadow at prom.

“I made a reservation for that restaurant downtown.” Jimin says as the sun was beginning to set and the streetlights were gradually turning on. “You know, that one on top of the skyscraper that you’ve always wanted to view the city from.”

“Jimin!” You gasp, immediately floored by such a wasteful decision. “That place is super expensive, I can’t believe-“

“Y/N” Jimin interrupts you. “It’s fine, I promised I’d take you one day.”

“When did I request for you to do that?” You gasp, wondering how you could be so spoiled as to demand Jimin to take you to eat at such a fancy place when you knew neither of you broke ass soon-to-be college students could afford these kind of luxuries.

Jimin laughs. “When we were both thirteen remember?”

You stare at him wide-eyed, mouth hanging slightly agape. You should’ve known this was something that happened a long time ago, something insignificant yet of course Jimin would take seriously enough to remember up until this day.

“B-but, how…?” You trail off, wondering how he could’ve saved up the money.

“I saved some money from that part time job I got last summer.” Jimin replies nonchalantly.

“You told me you were doing that so you could buy a new pair of dance shoes.”

“Yeah, well I figured I could buy that later. Today is dedicated to us.” He smiles, rubbing his thumb against the back of your hand.

Jimin takes you home so you can both change and look more presentable. You didn’t have time to go through a full on makeover, so you just throw on a black dress, tie your hair in an extravagant looking but easy to make bun, and finish your look off with a pair of shiny black heels. When eight o’clock comes around, the two of you are both seated and ready to order.

The food was absolutely delicious, and the atmosphere was calming with mood lighting and soothing music playing in the background. You were even willing to bet the chief had to be an artist because everything on your plate looked too pretty to eat.

You and Jimin sat by the large glass windows overlooking the city lights below and the moon that was a bright ivory crescent floating in the dark night sky. You chatted until it was almost closing time, and there was virtually no one else left. When the waiter finally came by to pick up the last empty plate, he stopped to compliment how good the two of you looked together, a statement that triggered a proud smile to spread across Jimin’s face and a light pink flush to wash over your cheeks.

Like the gentleman that he is, Jimin drove you home and walked you up your front porch steps a ritual that the two of you have practiced all throughout high school. As the clocked continued to tick away, you were starting to grow aware of the imminent end of one important phase, knowing that you had reached the first major turning point in the story of your life. It was scary in way, making you feel apprehensive about what the future holds, wondering whether or not you were perhaps losing some things along the way, some things that may never be the same.

Nevertheless, the one thing that gave you comfort was the fact that you knew Jimin was probably feeling the same way, sharing your thoughts and emotions, staying by your side because in this turbulent period called youth, every one needs a constant that keeps them grounded. That’s what Jimin was to you, and that’s what you were to him, the firm and resolute constant that succeeds at doing something the ever-changing world is unable to.

“Y/N?” You hear Jimin murmur.

Turning to face him, you swear you can see stars in his glossy eyes, the way his irises shimmies and flickers under the moonlight like they were born to grace the night sky.

“Hmm?” You wait for his response, but he continues to sweep his gaze across your face, as if he was trying to memorize every shape and crevice, every emotion and color written in your expression.

He leans in closer, to the point where you can feel his warm breath on the tip of your nose and smell the faint scent of his familiar cologne. You close your eyes at the same time his lips make contact with yours. It starts off slow, but quickly becomes more urgent as he begins to move his lips against yours and you can feel his tongue requesting access in which you grant almost immediately.

“I’ll miss you,” He whispers, lips breaking away from the kiss but hands still gently caressing your cheek.

“I’ll miss you too” You smile, as you grip onto his wrist.

“See you during break?”

“Yeah” You nod as you watched him turn and walk back to his house, only to turn back around and wave again…and again…and again, until he finally reached the front porch of his house and disappeared inside.

…

You did see Jimin during breaks, but during the school year, more often than not you would wonder if he was doing what normal guys did in college. Partying, getting drunk, sleeping with girls…it was not only possible, but also extremely likely especially since the two of you were now long distance and Jimin was reaching his sexual prime. Although you had known Jimin since childhood, people change when they start new lives in university. That was all normal, and it was not your right to hold him back from doing what he wants. You’ve even tried to convince yourself several times that it shouldn’t matter if leaves you because he found his real soulmate or whatever. Constantly reiterating to yourself that few couples are able to stay together since childhood and go through a long distance relationship during college, and that it’s an absolute miracle you and Jimin have made it this far as it is.

To be completely honest, all of those thoughts were a kind of self-defense mechanism or so you liked to think of it as, because it was much easier to avoid disappointment by giving up hope than to clutch onto senseless expectation and pray that it won’t fly away. You figured if you didn’t place so much importance on your relationship with Jimin, it would give him less room to hurt you if that’s what it really came down to in the end.

But it was the day you were alone with his college roommate Jeon Jungkook, that you got all the answers to those questions that had been gnawing at you while you and Jimin were apart. You were visiting Jimin at his university during Spring Break and just like all the previous times you went to his dorm, his roommate Jungkook was there, he was normally always either gaming or working on some school project on his laptop. And it was the day you were alone with Jungkook while Jimin went out to lunch with the students in his Biochem lab to celebrate the successful publication of one of the Grad students’ papers, that you found the perfect opportunity to converse with Jungkook one on one.

“So Jungkook” You begin to say as you watch him grab a loaf of bread and a jar of Nutella from the fridge to make himself a sandwich. He was a total player, you could tell just by looking at him and the way he carries himself. Seductive face, tall, attractive, muscular, butt chin and all. It didn’t give you any more consolation about the whole Jimin is probably sleeping with other girls behind your back theory you had conjured up. Especially not with a playboy roommate like Jungkook, who probably temps him to go clubbing and whatnot. “I see you and Jimin are pretty close.”

“Yeah, we share some common interests and he kind of reminds me of my brother.” Jungkook replies, grabbing a butter knife to spread the creamy concoction on the slice of bread he cut.

“What do you guys like to do together? Like on weekends and stuff.” You ask, as naturally as possible, without letting Jungkook think you’re using him to get the inside dish on what Jimin does behind your back.

“Well, we sometimes dance or play soccer…” Jungkook shrugs as he takes a large bite of his sandwich and begins munching on it like a bunny.

“Do you guys go drinking on Friday nights?” You push the topic a little further, ignoring how adorably innocent he was looking at the moment, because you were a woman on a mission and this was an opportunity you weren’t planning on wasting.

Jungkook huffs a laugh. “I wish.” He says shaking his head. “Man, we could have so much fun if he were into that stuff.” Jungkook says staring into space and losing himself in his thoughts before realizing you were still there, and that you were Jimin’s girlfriend. “Uh…I mean, guys night out, you know?” He nervously laughs, trying to hide the fact that he was totally referring to something else.

“You don’t party at all?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course I do!” Jungkook says defensively. “I’m not some lame nerd who does homework on Friday nights. ”

“Did you just call Jimin a lame nerd?” You ask, trying to muffle a laugh.

Jungkook stops chewing, mouth hanging open as he searches for a response to the mess he just put himself in.

“Y/N, look, Jimin…he’s not your average male college student.” Jungkook sighs. “He’s really seriously about his studies, and he literally never shuts up about you.”

Your expression softens at Jungkook’s words.

“I’ve known him for almost two years, and I still admire his devotion to everything he sets his mind to, whether it’s medical school or being a faithful friend and boyfriend from what I can tell.” Jungkook takes a sip of water before continuing. “To be honest, if he wasn’t so attached to you, I’d probably date him myself.” He finishes. “I mean, if I were a girl, you know, cause I’m straight as a pole.” He quickly adds, eyes widening in disbelief that he just said what he did.

You giggle, unable to contain it any longer, but if it weren’t for Jungkook’s humor, you’d probably have tears welling up in your eyes because of the way he described Jimin. Your Jimin. The sweet little boy who you should give more credit to because he truly deserves the world.

…

“So Jungkook told me some stuff,” You voice while you and Jimin were walking home from dinner that night. Jungkook’s words were still fresh in your mind, but you had the goal of provoking Jimin to defend himself tonight, to have a little fun and “test” how he would react.

“It was about me wasn’t it?” Jimin sighs.

“Yeah, he told me all about how you seduce other girls” You lie, trying to hold back a giggle, and hoping Jimin will take the bait.

“Y/N, you can’t possibly believe that can you?” Jimin says, turning to you. He grabs a hold of your wrist and stops walking.

You avoid eye contact by turning your head away, afraid he might see that you were just playing around.

“Y/N” Jimin says, trying to get your attention.

Your heart clenches at the desperation in his voice, and you almost want to stop the acting right there, but Jimin speaks before you can tell him you were just kidding.

“I don’t know what Jungkook’s plan of telling you stuff he made up is, but can you trust me when I say there’s not a day that goes by when I don’t think about you?” Jimin’s hand slackens, and he lets go of his grip of your wrist. He sighs heavily and stares at the ground as he voices his next words. “You’re the first person that comes to mind when the rays of sun peek through my dorm room curtains, and your warm touch is the last sensation I feel before I fall asleep. When I’m sitting in class alone or walking around campus, I imagine the jokes you and I would come up for so many random things, and when I’m stressed from studying for an exam or feeling mildly depressed because of what the future holds, the thought of you is what brings me to a better place. I know this sounds like something from a shitty romantic movie that probably got crappy ratings, but I-”

He doesn’t have a chance to finish his last sentence because you were already flinging your arms around him and lacing your upper body around his neck. You look up at the clear moonlit sky, attempting to stop the tears from spilling over due to Jimin pouring out his heart to you.

“Jimin” You whisper into his ear. “I was kidding” You sniffle, having failed to prevent your emotions from overwhelming you.

“Oh, thank god” Jimin says as he wraps his arms around your voice.

You laugh in between sniffles. “You’re not even mad?” You ask surprised.

“Nah, I’m just glad I don’t have to kick Jungkook in the crotch anymore.” Jimin smiles, and the reflection of the moon twinkles in his crescent shaped eyes.

You lean in for a kiss before your rational mind can ponder over the action. Jimin cups your face in his warm hands and entangles his tongue with yours, expertly maneuvering it to express his desire.

You feel a heat begin to swell up in between your legs. And you can feel the pace of Jimin’s breathing pick up as he continues to kiss you.

“Should we, find, a more” You try to get the muffled words out, while at the same time, not wanting to break the kiss that was still making you see stars. “private place?” You finally manage to get out. You feel Jimin nod, and hum an agreement at the same time, while his hand moves to rest on the curve of your lower back.

You can’t explain exactly how, but the two of you manage to make it back to Jimin and Jungkook’s dorm without ripping each other’s clothes off before entering.

“Is he here?” You breathe as you look around to see if Jungkook is around.

“He sleeps over at the frat house on Fridays” Jimin answers. “We don’t have to worry about him all weekend.” He grins at the last part, and you step over and pull him into another kiss.

Jimin guides you over to his bedroom, and gently lays you down on your back. He pulls away from the kiss just so he could take a moment to look at you endearingly. His eyes run down your flushed face and heated body, and a look of lust that you had never seen in him before flashes across his dark orbs, sending shock waves running down your spin and an eagerness to churn like butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Y/N” He whispers, breath uneven and airy. He leans back in and leaves a trail of soft kisses down your neck as he unbuttons his shirt. You felt a mixture of nerves and growing need start to build up around your center. You didn’t plan for this to happen despite having it cross your mind in the past, and you certainly didn’t know what to expect. First times weren’t supposed to be perfect, that you knew, but your mind couldn’t completely dismiss the fact that there would be pain involved. What if it hurt too much to continue? The last thing you wanted was to stop in the middle and leave Jimin hanging.

“Jimin?” You murmur just as his hands had slid on either side of your hips and was about to pull your pants down. At the sound of his name, he instantly freezes, fingers still gripping the waistband of your jeans.

“You ok?” He asks, lust leaving his eyes to immediately be replaced with mild alarm. The concern tangled in his voice is slight, but makes your heart tug in ways you didn’t think two words could.

You bite your bottom lip and nod, trying to figure out how to organize your racing thoughts, wanting more than anything for this experience to feel natural and special for both you and Jimin.

“Tell me if you want to stop, ok? We can stop anytime.” Jimin leans back down and kisses your cheek, making sure you knew he wouldn’t want to do this unless you were absolutely sure that you wanted to.

It was not long before your pants and underwear are off, you sit up to lift your shirt, the dampness from your sweat making goosebumps appear on your exposed skin. Jimin helps you unhook your bra and you help him unzip his pants. As your fingers tugged on the zipper, you were repeating words of encouragement in your mind telling yourself that you were in fact ready for this. But the tent that forms as the zipper is released refuels the fire burning in your loins erasing all feelings of uncertainty.

When both of you are undressed, you slowly lay back down as Jimin leans his body over you, joining you on his bed. He places one hand on the pillow next to your head, supporting himself as he maneuvers his other hand to massage your breast. You spread your legs to make room for him to fit comfortably.

“I’ve imagined this countless times in my head” Jimin murmurs as he leaves a trail of kisses down your neck and towards your chest, nibbling at your nipple when he reaches your breast.

“Oh, so you were pretending to be innocent this whole time” You exclaim, jokingly calling him out for acting all harmless for so many years.

“I’m still a guy you know,” He mutters, manhood taking a blow thinking you’ve never thought of him in any kind of lustful way like he has when it comes to you, countless times in fact. But you knew that, that wasn’t true at all, because you’ve had numerous sinful dreams about him as well.

You smirk, reaching down and pulling his throbbing member out of his boxers. It would’ve been a tad bit nerve-wracking, but you were feeling braver now that the jokes were out and three seconds of audacious adrenaline hit you all of a sudden. A courage that stemmed from the calming and amiable understanding that had blossomed between the two of you, a result of having known Jimin for so many years, you knew there was nothing to be self-conscious about and it was undeniable that he had never judged you, not your body nor your feelings, and the look in his eyes right now was speaking volumes on how much he wanted you, how much he needed you.

Jimin tenses momentarily at your sudden touch before letting out a guttural moan. “I-I think Jungkook has a stash of condoms laying around somewhere. Hold on.” He says as he begins to get up.

You grab his arm before he’s able to leave to search for them. “I’m on birth control.” You quickly announce, giving him a tentative glance. “H-Have you been with anyone else?” You ask, not knowing if this was his first time too, telling yourself it’s ok if you don’t happen to be his first like he was yours, but simultaneously secretly hoping he would say no.

Jimin smiles and shakes his head, still looking at you with furrowed brows. “But what if-?” He was about to say what if you decided to sleep with other people in the future, but your voice interrupts him.

“I’m planning on only having one partner in my life.” You murmur, feeling the rush of heat flood your cheeks as you voice the statement.

At the sound of your words, a look of endearment washes across Jimin’s expression, tenderness and adoration occupying the glittering specs in his eyes, the corners of his lips twitching into a smile. He begins caressing you once more, leaning back on top of you and massaging your breasts, teasing your opening, and patiently finding the right time to begin slipping one finger in, and soon two. Getting you more and more ready for the moment of truth, edging you closer and closer to the point of no return.

“Ready?” You hear his low and seductive voice penetrate through your ragged breaths after half an hour of foreplay. Biting your lower lip, you nod as you stare into his sparkling eyes, his plump lips that looked softer than clouds, his features that were engrained in your brain never looked so clear and tangible. He slowly enters you, pausing after each centimeter to allow you to adjust to his size. You feel a sting, your opening forced to stretch out more than it ever has.

“Are you ok?” He would look you in the eyes with genuine concern each time you whimpered a little. Biting your lip, you would give him a small but reassuring nod, conveying to him that you were absolutely ready for this, and that you wanted this more than anything.

When he’s fully inside, he pauses for an extra long period of time, asking you again for permission to start moving. Once you grant it to him, he slowly begins to slide out and back in, thrusts gradually gaining in speed and kicking up in pace when you voice to him in a lustful moan that the pleasure is beginning to kick in to mask the pain from before.

Jimin makes love to you gently, yet with just enough intensity to make your senses go wild. His hand never leaves the side of your face, as he sensually caresses your cheek, gazing into your pupils to read every emotion delivered by your eyes, tending to your needs and frequently leaning down to peck your forehead and suckle on your lips. It is unlike any situation you’ve ever had the capacity to conjure in your mind because the unimaginable sincerity in each of his small movements, each miniscule whisper of “you’re so beautiful”, and each breathe he inhaled to soak in your scent and the heat of your body, is a reflection of the precious, caring boy that is Park Jimin and his undying love for you. The affectionate boy whose patience and honesty can be matched by no other, whose promises are not tied to his words but in his everlasting actions proving his devotion to you and now finally marking you as his.

Thus, here you are, feeling the heat swell in your core while nearing the brink, knowing deep down in your heart that as Jimin gazes into your eyes lacing the affirmation that it has never been anybody but you and will never be anyone else but you with the swirling ways of his tongue, you let yourself believe this is the closest thing to the start of a forever. And that is all you need to be thrown over the edge, the warmth building up in your core bursting in enraptured beams of pleasure, distorting your vision and overwhelming your conscious thought. Your cries of euphoria are all Jimin needs to send him crashing right after you. The intensity ultimately reaching that moment of pause as he lavishes in the feeling of your hot juices coating his cock the same time he releases his load before cautiously sliding in and out again, making sure to ride you through your high and his, making every second of bliss last that much longer.

“Wow…” He breathes as he tenderly pulls out and rolls over to lie next to you.

“Jimin…” You murmur as you turn on your side to face him. Eyes tracing the outline of his side profile and smiling at the way his frizzled bangs are now sticking to his sweaty forehead and how his chest continues to rise and fall from the exertion.

He turns and beams at you, those two crescent moons sending lovely tingles to your heart like they always have. He then reaches over to his bedside drawer and pulls out a vibrant red rose, it’s color partially hidden under the faint yellow lamp light.

“More flowers?” You huff with a grin.

Jimin shrugs. “Saw it the other day and thought it would come in handy soon,” He laughs softly. “You know what it represents, right?”

“You may be attractive, but you have thorns so better be careful?” You jokingly laugh.

Jimin shakes his head but joins in anyways, and the two of you giggle until the room falls silent once again.

“Y/N”

“Hmmm?”

“I love you.”

Pink Flower Petals | Eternal Love

Park Jimin matured into the man you always knew he would. Ever since he gifted you your first flower back in the first summer you officially befriended him when you were merely eleven years old, you knew his inherent character would shine through any number of years of trials and tribulations, and be safely retained in a person so authentic and pure, because how could a kid with a smile as bright as the sun not grow up to be a man that shines ethereal light from the center of his heart?

He had long past those days of being the adorable neighborhood kid, high school more-than-friends type of best friend, and long distance college boyfriend. Past seasons of shedding and blooming, his facial features had begun to reflect the amount of hardship from his stressful days in medical school and hospital rounds, saving people’s lives and building long lasting relationships with his patients who all adored the doctor with the smiley eyes; jawline sharped by age and baby fat cheeks long gone. Attractive, handsome, and sexy were now adjectives that described his physical appearance and his mental wisdom, with beautiful and charismatic being used to define his mind and personality.

It had been five years since Jimin last offered you a flower of symbolism, the ones that he had continuously gifted you in the past, and you wonder if he’s lost interest in doing things only associated with young love.

“So after proposing you’ve finally given up on giving me flowers, huh?” You look down at Jimin who is still positioned on one knee, a calm smile resting on his lips as he waits for your response. A gently breeze drifts by, tickling his fluffy chestnut hair and carrying the familiar grassy scent of spring and the sound of rustling leaves. It was a lovingly mild day, something that Jimin had planned with his constant checking of the weather and putting faith in its accuracy, sunny with a hint of marshmallow clouds. He had invited you for a walk in a moderately empty park to do what he had wanted to since the day you accepted his confession of love.

“Look around” His smile transforms into a playful grin. You slowly turn to gaze around the park, there were cherry blossom petals floating everywhere, coating the ground in blankets of rosy pastel and speckles of white. The serene atmosphere only heighted the sensation of another gust of a romantic breeze that carried over a single velvety petal, smooth and soft, painted a gradient of baby pink into your line of sight. “Of course I can’t forget the symbolism game, pink flower petals for eternal love.” He says.

You grin, eyes still tracing the path of the pretty pink petal. “I can’t believe you were thinking of this starting from when you were eleven. What weird eleven year old has these kinds of thoughts?” You turn and nudge him playfully on the shoulder as he stands up.

“It wasn’t intentional. It’s not like I knew what those flowers symbolized. I just saw them and in each stage of my life when I saw a certain flower, I would think of you.”

He slowly removes the sparkling ring out of its nesting spot in the dark navy case and gently slides it onto your fourth finger.

You smile while looking at the way the crystalline stone danced under the sunlight, refracting the light at different wavelengths, causing rainbow sparkles to flutter in the air.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” Jimin whispers, as you look up to meet his eyes that had already been gazing at you affectionately.

You must’ve fed hundreds of starving children in your past life because even though you’ve never wished for fairytale endings or impossible miracles, the actual angel that is Park Jimin still insists that your far from flawless ass is the perfect one in the relationship and that he’s lucky to have you. Unbelievable. You slowly shake your head, smile still plastered on your face.

Blushing and wondering how in the world he was still able to make you feel things you thought would have long grown stale, you knew that just like the flowers he gifted you at different stages in your life, your love would always continue to bloom.

...

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bangtan bookclub #btswriters #armiesnet #bts fluff #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #park jimin #bts scenarios #bts jimin #park jimin #jimin smut #park jimin x reader

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chimchimchoo · 8 years ago

Text

Sightless :: 11

Genre: Fluff/Angst

Word Count: 1,827

Pair: Yoongi x Jimin

Chapter: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 (of 13)

“On a typical Saturday, a near-fatal accident destroyed his eyesight.

Now Park Jimin feared Saturdays. Whether it was the most beautiful, clear day out or a rough, raging storm. Every Saturday, he would go into hiding, away from the world, away from any danger.

But then Min Yoongi shows up, picking up the little pieces of life Jimin lost and tries to show him that Saturdays can be, in fact, the safest day of the week.”

A/N: Every chapter switches perspectives, the name of that person (Jimin/Yoongi) will be in bold before the start of the chapter.

YOONGI

Yoongi called his mother countless times. He begged her over and over. But when he found the tickets sitting in his mailbox, he knew that his stubborn mother would refuse to end the battle. She already ended his apartment lease, kicked him out of his own school and cut off his bank account. Yoongi didn’t have a choice but to go back, his mother was far too powerful for him to keep running away.

He was going to tell Jimin as soon as retrieved the train tickets, but that being so long ago, it got harder and harder to tell him as the day drew closer. It made him feel like a coward, but Jimin was already dealing with so much. He couldn’t bear to see a pained expression on his face. But what really, really pushed Yoongi to the edge was that the train took off the same day as his surgery. Of all days.

Of all fucking days.

Yoongi didn’t know how long he would be gone for, but knowing that it’s his mother, of all people, it wasn’t going to be an easy battle. But for certain, he was going to go home, talk some sense into her and try to get his life back.

But with this weight hanging heavily on his shoulders, Yoongi was at a complete loss of whether he should keep his distance with Jimin because he was afraid of growing too desperate from the slightest touch, or to spend every moment inches away from him, holding his warm hand, staring into his colorless eyes.

The kiss, oh god the kiss. It was everything he ever wanted and also the worst decision he ever made. The fact that Jimin initiated it was absolutely no help at all. He wanted more, he needed more. He was desperate for Jimin’s gentle touch and he craved for his presence when Jimin wasn’t around.

Yoongi resisted though. He kept a small distance between the two of them and was going to stay that way until he left. Anything else more would make him break.

As much as it pained him terribly to make this decision, it was something he needed to do.

----------

“No, Jimin. Put the apple away.” Yoongi scowled when he caught a glimpse of Jimin rummaging through the kitchen. “You’re not supposed to eat anything.”

“But I’m...so hungry. It’s the bored kind of hungry, which makes it worse.” The pumpkin haired boy whined, tossing the apple back into the fridge.

“Then let’s take a walk.”

“But it’s cold, what if I get sick?” He continued whining as Yoongi threw his hands in the air.

“You’re not going to get sick if you bundle up well. Come on, there’s nothing to do and clearly you’re ready to claw the walls any second now.” Yoongi gathered their clothes, wrapping a scarf tightly around Jimin’s neck and shoving a beanie onto his pumpkin hair. He slipped on Jimin’s black glasses and gave him the white cane before opening the door, a blast of cold air blowing in.

But what caught his eye was that the scenery in front of him was covered with a blanket of a white, fluffy substance. At least two inches of it.

“Jimin,” Yoongi called with a smile. “Give me your hand, I want you to feel something.”

With a confused expression, he watched Jimin hold out his arm as Yoongi scooped some of it and pressed it onto his bare hand, watching him jump in surprise until he registered what it was. “Snow? Is there snow?” Yoongi observed Jimin’s eyes growing wide in marvel as he rushed outside, hearing the snow crunch under his shoes. “Let’s go down! I want to play in the snow!”

It only took seconds for Jimin to run to the elevator and impatiently waited as it carried them to the ground level. Without wasting a moment, Jimin dropped his cane and ran out into the small grassy field covered with untouched snow just outside of the apartment complex.

The boy plopped onto the snow and rolled around, his dark clothes getting covered with a layer of white dust. While he had the widest grin on his face, Yoongi wore a frown on his.

It was only less than 24 hours until his surgery, only less than 24 hours until Yoongi’s train took off. The time with Jimin was so limited, but he wasn’t going to stop fighting. He would do everything he could to get back to Seoul as soon as dealt with his parents.

Shaking his head, Yoongi bent down and scooped up a pile of snow with his bare hands, smashing it together until it formed a somewhat decent sphere. Aiming at his target, he threw his arm up in the air and tossed the ball, hitting Jimin square on the back.

“What was that?” Jimin suddenly asked until he began laughing, rolling a ball of snow in his hands before throwing it toward Yoongi, but failing miserably. With a teasing tone, he made fun of Jimin’s terrible aim as he stomped he way toward the grass

He bent over and packed snow together continuously until it became a ball that grew bigger. Rolling it along the snow, it stuck to the ball until it was the height of his knees and made another one just a bit smaller.

“What are you doing?” Jimin asked as he finished his snow angel.

“I’m making a snowman as ugly as you because I have no snow sculpting abilities.” Yoongi stated as he stacked the three snowballs together into a somewhat lopsided snowman. He found two large stones nearby for the eyes and a twig with a single leaf on it to be the nose. “Check it out, what a masterpiece.” Yoongi boasted as Jimin felt it’s rough edges with a warm giggle.

“You’re right, it is ugly.”

“Just because I said it was ugly doesn’t mean you can agree with me!” Yoongi lightly pushed Jimin’s shoulder, causing him to lose balance and slip on the icy grass, pulling Yoongi down with him.

With a loud thump, Yoongi heard Jimin’s body hit the white powder as he landed on top. “Are you okay?” He suddenly asked, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you. Right before your surgery of all days too.”

“I’m fine.” Jimin gave him a reassuring smile, his eyelashes sprinkled with small flakes of ice, his pumpkin hair contrasting against the white ground. Jimin’s frozen, nearly purple fingers reached up and rested them on his cheeks, sending a chill down his spine. “Your cheeks are so warm.”

Yoongi eyed him carefully, observing and remembering every small little detail about him. His nose and ears completely turned pink, his cloudy, pale eyes always looking just a little off angled from Yoongi’s when they glanced at each other. His pumpkin hair always pushed back because the fringe got into his eyes and bothered him.

He ran a thumb along his lip, his head slowly leaning closer toward them, but froze when their lips were only centimeters apart. He could feel the heat radiating off of Jimin’s skin, hearing the soft inhale of his breath.

Feeling a painful throb in his chest, Yoongi backed away and stood up instead, brushing the snow off of his pants. “We should go inside before you get hurt.” He glanced at Jimin, his face carried a troubled expression. Yoongi felt regret grow inside of him, but it was for the best.

At least he thought it was.

----------

“I’m so nervous.” Jimin said as he walked out of the bathroom dressed in a hospital gown, his clothes folded neatly in his hands. “What if it doesn’t work?”

“Jimin, you’re overthinking it. You’re going to wake up and see all the colors of the world. Okay?” Yoongi took the clothes from him and put it in the small duffle bag that sat by Jimin’s assigned bed. “Take a deep breath.” Yoongi breathed in, watching Jimin mimic him and breathed out. It was written all over his face, Yoongi had never seen him more nervous about anything before.

Following with a knock on the door, a nurse entered the room with a small pole on wheels that carried a few items used for physical examinations. “Park Jimin? If you could please sit on the bed, I need to check your vitals as we prepare the operation room.”

Sitting on the stool beside the bed, Yoongi watched the nurse pull out the different objects one by one. She checked the boy’s ears, his mouth, the heartbeat, nodded a few times and scribbled some words on her clipboard. “Everything seems to be in perfect condition, Mr. Park. Have you eaten anything in the past 24 hours?”

Jimin rapidly shook his head, pressing a hand on his own stomach. “But I’m starving though.” He whined as the nurse chuckled.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have food prepared for you afterwards. You can eat all you want then. Sound good?”

Beaming, Jimin gave the nurse a hopeful nod as she cleaned up the supplies, hanging them back onto the pole. “Doctor Oh will be with you in just a minute, your procedure will begin in about ten minutes.” The nurse stated before exiting the room, closing the door behind her.

“Jimin, listen to me.” Yoongi’s voice was soft, so soft as if he lowered it only enough for just Jimin to hear it. “No matter what happens after you wake up, you must not let anything ever stop you. Okay?”

“Yoongi, what are you talking about?”

“I’m just saying, whether you see or not, do only the things you want to do, not things that you’re limited to. Whether you’re alone or not on Saturdays, take some time to walk outside, see your friends. Do dumb things with them, especially Taehyung. If you ever fall back into your previous state, or something triggers you, you have to remember that you will not get hurt. These past Saturday's we’ve gone outside have proved it to you. Just keep reminding yourself that what happened in the past will stay in the past forever. Promise me this.”

“Yoongi,” Jimin laughed quietly, growing with concern. “Why does it sound like you’re-” He was interrupted by a knock on the door as the doctor walked in, dressed in scrubs.

“Hello Jimin, Yoongi.” Doctor Oh greeted with a friendly smile as nurses behind him dragged in a gurney. “Are you ready for this, Mr. Park?”

Nervously, Jimin nodded his head as the doctor guided him toward the bed, carefully laying him down. Jimin turned his head in the direction of where Yoongi stood, holding a hand out. “Can he come with me?”

“Of course, but once we hit the operation doors, he has to stay out here. Does that sound good?” With a nod, they began to drag the bed out of the room, down the quiet hall toward the operation room. It was far too early in the morning for anyone to wander down the halls. All the patients were still sleeping, the nurses sipped their coffee and chattered quietly in the corners.

Yoongi took Jimin’s hand in his, squeezing it tightly as the doctor explained the procedure and the side effects for when he woke up. The operation doors came into view as Doctor Oh gave Yoongi a nod, signaling that it was time for them to go in.

“You’re going to be here when I wake up right?” Jimin asked quietly.

Clenching his jaw tightly, he fought back the words he really wanted to say. “I’ll be right here.” He hated lying, he hated it. He hated knowing how broken he was going to feel, that he wouldn’t be there when Jimin opened his eyes. He hated knowing that Jimin was going to spend his Saturdays alone. “Taehyung and the others will be here soon, we’ll all be waiting for you.”

Yoongi felt Jimin’s warm fingers slip out of his hand as emptiness grew inside of him. “I’ll be right here.” He muttered as the nurses began rolling the bed toward the doors.

“Hey Yoongi.” Jimin yelped as the entryway opened to a new hall. “I’ll see you soon.”

While Jimin disappeared behind the doors with the biggest smile on his face, Yoongi fought to hold back his words as his eyes brimmed with tears. He felt so much joy for Jimin, but at the same time he was in so much pain. It hurt. It hurt so fucking bad.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Yoongi fell onto his knees as his body gave in. Tears spilled down his cheeks as choked sobs erupted from his throat. Clutching his chest, he gasped in between his sobs, regretting the very decision he had to make. “I’m sorry Jimin. I’m so, so sorry.”

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #yoongi x jimin #yoonmin #fluff #angst #bts imagine #yoongi fanfiction #allifanfic #jimin fanfiction #sightless #blind!jimin #jimin #yoongi

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kpop--fics · 8 years ago

Text

Jeon Wonwoo fluff

[Roommate AU]

I wrote this with @theliqht check her out! She writes amazing stuff! She is an adorable fluffy marshmallow who I like very much :D

—

beanie boy

you had seen him walk around campus a lot of times

but never really payed much attention to him

like he keeps a really really really low profile

but now

you walked into your new dorm room

and there he was.

you kinda freak out bc you know it’s gonna be really awkward with someone like him

“um,, hello, i’m y/n”

you only got a small nod and a quiet but decipherable “i’m wonwoo.”

and at first

you thought he was really cold and kinda hated you

but

he’s just shy to people he first meets

what a cutie

he’s alsoo,, often on his phone

you’ll be 2 meters away and he’ll message you instead of talk

like both of your study desks are opposite each other

so when you two both sit down at your own desks, you’ll be back to back

and wonwoo would just msg u like

“hey do you have an extra black pen”

like yes sure ofc

smh

but hey bonus to having this roomie !!

you get an extra friend called kim mingyu

wonwoo and mingyu are practically inseparable

moreover

hangouts with just the three of you

super fun and lame at times

after a while wonwoo gets more comfortable with you

and he just,,, walks around the dorm happy all day

the emo wonwoo gone!!!

like boy

what happened here

OH yeah

some time ago mingyu brought a dog over

because “it looked cute so I took it with me”

you never saw wonwoo so scared

he was practically in the curtains

and he screamed a lung out istg

also

this boy is a good rapper but dAMN

he can sing too

bc apparently ‘he was supposed to become a vocalist

but became a rapper

so he does both really well

what can’t this boy do, you ask?

well it’s playing the piano

he really practises hard but,,, no

“wONWOO STOP PLEASE”

“NO Y/N I’LL NEVER LEARN THAT WAY”

“wonwoo you’re just hitting random keys on the piano that’s not learning”

wonwoo just side-eyes you and

“SH”

he also reads a lot

like a lot.

he has a whole shelf of books in your room and it’s like a little library corner

when you have nothing to do he just recommends you some of the favs and they’re honestly pretty good

and he has a thing where he kinda whisper-reads the book aloud at night

and omg yoU LIVE FOR THAT

his voice is just sooo soothing and you just fall asleep to his mumbles

it’s like childhood all again ;; bedtime stories !!

and wonwoo always covers you with extra blankets bc you always curl up into a ball at night and you look cold so

and he has tons of sweaters and pullovers and hoodies

like more than an average human being has

and he surprisingly doesn’t mind when you just wear some of them

bc he likes your little cute sweater paws

so yuppp that’s wonwoo as your roommie

#jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen #roommate AU #collab

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imagineimuptonogood · 8 years ago

Text

JugBug || Jughead J.

Word Count: 2266

Warnings: None:)

A/N: Riverdale is my newest obsession and obviously my favorite character is Jughead Jones. I’ve never read the comics but I’ve seen that there he is asexual, however, I’m pretty sure the show is changing him (AKA Bughead) and that’s how I want to write him. I’m sorry if that offends you, but come on, who doesn’t want a little fluff/smut from the mysterious closed-off hottie in the gray beanie? Also, I wrote this at 2 AM when I couldn’t sleep so if it is complete trash, let me know. I value you all comments unless it involves hate. :)

Sidenote: Thank you to all of the people that followed me after Holy Trench Coat! I love you all so much and you are the best!

(gifs are not mine)

It was Friday, the typical day that you rejoiced all your happiness because the week was finally over. You didn’t have to go to school, and you could sleep for as long as your mother allowed you to before she decides she needs to vacuum the house and wake you up.

Normally, on Fridays, You would have a fantastic breakfast of waffles and bacon at Pop’s with a certain raven-haired boy as he typed and you drew, before you headed out to a prison that forced learning upon you. After you would serve your eight-hour sentence, you and sometimes Juggie, if he hadn’t already walked there, headed to Pop’s. Yes, you do interact with people on the way. It is a fair few and normally short conversations as your sarcastic humor is just not appreciated as much as it should be.

However, today is different. Your alarm casually didn’t go off and you were rudely awakened by a loud fist slamming into your door. Ever since you realized that your door had a lock on it, you made sure to use it and last night was no different. It definitely helped when your mother decided you didn’t need to sleep anymore.You thought you had fooled her but you were wrong and that was when she began to use the vacuum as punishment and to this day you can’t stand to look at that Dyson Dirt Devil. It even has devil in the name!

Groaning, you stuck a pillow over your head trying to drown out the banging. After what felt like an hour, but was possibly only five minutes the knocking went away. A soft sigh left your lips as you snuggled deeper into your covers waiting for sleep to overtake you once more.

However, you were sadly mistaken. The intruder did not go away and just as you were perfectly comfortable, your blanket was snatched off your body and the cold air from the AC unit blew goosebumps on your skin. Your eyes immediately sprung open and you sat up.

The raven-haired boy didn’t even say anything, but as soon as you stood up his smug expression changed. You watched the smirk drop from his thin light pink lips and his brows furrow.

“What the hell Juggie? How did you even get in?” Your eyes watched as his hand lifted to show the key that you had given him at the beginning of summer.

“Oh, makes sense,” You concluded sitting up further as you were now wide awake. With your small hands balled into fists, you rubbed them against your eyes to make sure they were clean of any sleep gunk before letting out the most un-ladylike whale noise and stretching both your arms to the now invisible stars.

“Is that my shirt?” Jughead’s voice brought you back to reality and you immediately stopped your daily routine of the infamous “whale stretch” and looked down. The old hunter green v-neck was big on you. Not too big to be over-sized, but enough so that if you stood up your lady-bits would be covered. It was your favorite shirt to sleep in. The softness of the tee was just right and if you were being 100% honest with yourself the only reason you started to wear it was because it smelled just like Jughead. Pinewood, Old Spice, and burger grease were now only a memory of scents since your mother decided to wash it after finding it on your floor one morning. Now, it was “blessed” by the scent of Gain Moonlight Breeze fabric softener and it came at a far second to the original. You still wore it, it made me feel closer to him.

Heat rose to your cheeks. You didn’t ever expect him to see this shirt ever again, let alone you in it. “Uh, yeah. Maybe.”

That seemed to break Jughead out of his trans he was in as his blue eyes raked over your figure. “That’s where it went.”

Deciding to not let the moment get any more awkward than it already had, you broke the silence. “So, what are you doing here JugBug?”

He winced at the nickname still not too fond of it, but for some reason he let you use it. “It’s Friday and you didn’t come into Pop’s this morning for waffles, so I knew something had to be wrong. However, I can see it was just laziness and you didn’t wake up to your alarm.” He smirked at her once more, dropping himself into her black computer chair that was to the left of her queen-sized bed. Her comforter laid abandoned on the ground in front of him.

She rolled her eyes at him but smiled. “I apologize Juggie, I didn’t know my presence was of such importance to you.”

This time it was his turn to roll his eyes. “It’s not.” Lies “I just wanted to make sure you weren’t the second person murdered in the crazy town.”

Even though he meant it as a joke and deep down you knew it was one, your heart crack slightly. Having a crush on Jughead wasn’t easy. He didn’t often show affection, his sarcastic humor most of the time got the best of him, and you were almost completely sure he had no feelings for you what so ever. That didn’t stop you from loving him, though. You loved his humor, his style, his determination, his detective skills, his love of movies, honestly, there wasn’t anything you disliked about your Jugbug, except maybe his father and the way he always put himself down, as if he wasn’t that important in anyone’s life.

“Ouch Jugbug, my heart, it hurts.” His lips twitched up in an almost smile and I wanted to do a victory dance.

“Yeah, yeah. Now, get up. We have six more hours of torturing ourselves while listening to old bags droning on and on about subjects only half of us care or pretend to care about.” He stated getting up from his chair and throwing the comforter back at you.

You groaned again falling back against your pillows and looking over at the clock. He was right, it was only ten AM. Your arm fell over your face in defeat. That was until a brilliant idea struck your brain. “I don’t think so Juggie. I’m going to sit this one out.”

“You’re skipping?” He questioned stopping to lean against the door frame. You could almost feel his amused expression behind your arm that guarded your eyes.

Dropping your arm back to the bed, you drug your glaring eyes to stare at him. “You act like I haven’t done it before.”

He shrugged. “You haven’t done it in a while. But don’t let me stop your fun.”

He went to walk away, but you called after him. “Are you just going to leave and go back to scision?”

His head popped back into the doorway with confusion written across his face. “Scision?”

You smiled at him. “School-prison.”

He raised his eyebrows clearly not impressed with the word. “Please, don’t ever combine two words again and try to make them into new ones. Or else I’m going to start calling you a River Vixen who says like every few sentences and the words ‘awesomesauce’ and or ‘tots fab’.”

A smirk worked its way onto your lips. “Why not, that would just be amazeballs?”

“Now you are trying to scar me.” He retorted walking back into your room and dropping his bag near the end of the bed. “But, yes I have to head back. Betty wanted to talk to me about something.”

Jealousy popped in your veins thinking about Betty anywhere near your Jugbug. Yes, the three of you were friends, but lately, after Archie confessed to having no feelings for Betty what so ever, it seemed she was flirting with Jug any chance she could get and it irked you to no end. Jug was yours. Well, not really but still. She knew you had feelings for him, he’s supposed to be off limits.

“So, you wouldn’t even stay if we watched this?” You slid your hand over to the nightstand and help up Pulp Fiction. You could see his conflict in his eyes. To go or not to go seemed to be the question.

“And I might even pay to have Pop’s delivered in about an hour for lunch?” That was the cherry on top. You knew that Jug couldn’t resist free food. Especially cheeseburgers from Pop’s.

“You had me at skipping.” He clarified dumping his dark brown coat on your chair and sliding off his shoes, before coming over to the other side of your bed and slipping under the recently thrown dark blue comforter. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized you were staring at him. “What are you waiting for? Put the movie in Sunshine.”

Sunshine was his nickname for you. It had come about just after Jugbug. He definitely wasn’t a fan of your name for him so he decided to call you something that annoyed you. Secretly, you thought it was the cutest thing, but you weren’t about to tell him that so he would stop.

Rolling your eyes, you stood up and put the movie into the DVD player before returning to the bed.

During the whole movie, you couldn’t help but feel like someone was staring at you and after looking over at the raven-haired boy, you realized someone was: Jughead. It would happen every few minutes. You would start to feel as if someone is watching you and you’d slightly look to your right. Immediately Jughead was intensely staring at the movie screen. You swore the guy might get whiplash.

But as the first movie was coming to a close, you caught him staring one more time. This time, however, he was staring at your body and when you looked over to ‘catch him’ he didn’t even seem to notice.

“Jugbug, what are you staring at?” You whispered, not sure you wanted to know the answer.

His head immediately swung up to meet your eyes. Those bright blue orbs shined as they widened. He glanced back down for a brief second before he looked back up at you. “I like you wearing my clothes.”

The room’s temperature soared and you felt your whole body flush. “W-what?” You weren’t usual the one to stutter, but hearing those words come from Jug’s mouth made you very flustered, very fast.

Suddenly, Jug leaned closer staring into your eyes as if he was searching for something. “Why do you like wearing my clothes?”

“Because they remind me of you.” The truth just blurted out and it seemed to take the poor boy by surprise and he leaned back but continued to stare at you straight in the eyes. You decided since this moment was coming to a turning point of good or bad you would finally try something that had to do with your feelings.

“Can I try something?” You whispered once more, this time you were the one leaning closer.

Faintly, Jughead nodded and you took your moment.

The blue spheres watched your every move with anticipation. He had been waiting for this moment since freshman year when he finally began to see you as more than just his best friend. He just never had the balls to do this himself. Plus, he didn’t want to ruin the friendship that you both shared with unrequited feelings.

You closed your eyes as your lips fell onto his and in that moment, you kicked yourself for waiting this long. You’d always thought that his lips would be rough, chapped, maybe even cracked from all the frustrated biting and constant licking that he did to them when he was writing, but they were as soft as butter. Smooth, pink, lines molded onto yours and a moan was let loose. You couldn’t tell if it was from you or Jug, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was when your lips touched his, he only tensed for a second before wrapping one arm around your waist and the other cupping your cheek as he held your lips together. He tasted like peppermint mixed with chocolate and you couldn’t get enough of it.

The need for air was the only thing that broke you two apart.

Sliding back from him, you licked your lips hoping to taste him just a second longer. You hadn’t realized it, but your body now sat on his lap straddling him as his arms encircled your waist.

For a few seconds, no one said anything and you two just looked at each other. This time, however, it was Jughead who broke the silence. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for that to happen.”

“I have a pretty good idea.” You whispered causing him to smile. A real smile this time. You mirrored his expression as the two of you leaned your foreheads together and pressed your lips against each other’s one more time.

His hands squeezed your hips in happiness while pressing you closer to him. “I really like you, Maya.” He whispered. His eyes were closed while his forehead laid against yours. Your chests were pressed together adding to the temperature of the room, but neither of you moved. At first, you thought it was just yours, but soon you concluded that his heart was beating just as wildly as yours.

Bringing your hand up you caressed his cheek with your thumb. His bright blue eyes slowly fluttered open to stare into yours. “I really like you too Jugbug.”

#jughead jones #jughead x reader #riverdale #jughead #jughead x oc #jughead imagines #riverdale imagines #jughead fanfiction #jughead fanfic

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losttalongthewayy · 8 years ago

Text

happy happy (late) Christmas, happy new year, happy January, happy all y’all!! I’m still in a semi-hiatus due to being home and all the family business but here’s still this ball of fluff! You may have to squint a lot to find a plot, but oh well.... <3 <3 Thank you @csjanuaryjoy for putting this together! :)

CSJJ Day 5: two little Ducklings…

January 27 Storybrooke, Maine.

According to Storybrooke’s humble, yet magically accurate weather advisory, the blizzard of the decade is supposedly hitting their little town in the next few days. So far winter has been oddly mild; the first snowfall of the year happening only a few days after the New Year. It'd even been beautiful; overnight the town was covered in fluffy white snow, hiding just about every inch of their little town behind the white blanket.

Winter in Storybrooke is certainly beautiful.

But, it is also worth dreading when your job is chasing after big bads despite the weather conditions. Last Emma heard, they are supposed to get at least three feet of snow over the weekend —at least.

She isn't exactly looking forward to it —although, there is always the chance that it gets cold enough that even the usual offenders will choose against their petty crimes and drunken misbehaves in turn of warm shelter.

Because of the blizzard, so as long as there is no real emergency in Storybrooke, neither she, nor her father, are going to show their faces at the station for a few days. Emma can't even pretend the idea of a couple of days of snuggles, movies and comfort food doesn’t appeal her.

Tonight as she gets off her car, the walkway up to their house is already particularly slushy. There is snow falling, but for now, it is still just a light shower that is melting before it even hits the ground.

Emma knows it’s only a matter of time before this changes though, and it’s almost a sure thing that tomorrow they’ll wake up to a more than picturesque white Storybrooke.

Eventually, once Emma finally walks in the house, she immediately feels relief. She shivers as she closes the door behind her. She can hear small voices coming from the kitchen, and almost instantly, a smile makes it to her face.

She steps out of her boots and shrugs off her coat hanging it on the rack by the door. She gets rid of her scarf and beanie as well, and relishes in the feel of finally being home. The house is warm and it smells an awful lot like cinnamon and other spices. Her mouth waters inevitably before she even makes it to the kitchen.

It’s a small moment later that she does and Estella’s little head lifting up to greet her is the first thing Emma sees.

“Hey mummy!” Estella grins in her usual cheery way.

They are all sitting around their kitchen table, Estella sitting between the boys, markers scattered everywhere as well as at least five of Estella’s coloring books around them.

Emma tilts her head and smiles. “Hello…” She lifts an eyebrow at Estella’s little face covered with everything from flour, dry up dough, and most definitely marker’s ink on her nose and cheeks. Her hair is messy, wild loose curls escaping the ponytail that isn’t quite holding anymore. Emma’s pretty sure Killian has been trying his best to control that hair of hers all day, but she is her daughter, and some days that hair of theirs is simply impossibly wavy and out of control.

Today is certainly one of those days for Miss Estella Jones.

“Hey mom,”

“Hi kid,”

Henry is closer to her, so Emma greets him properly first, leaning closer to him and planting a kiss to his cheek. He gives a grunt that is more for show than actual annoyance so Emma smiles. Estella is sitting between Henry and Killian, so Emma goes to greet her little duckling next.

Estella’s up on her knees ready to offer Emma not just a kiss hello, but also a hug. Now it’s Emma who grunts when Estella squeezes her just a little too tight. “Hey there little duck,” she whispers sweetly anyway, kissing Estella’s cheek. “You teaching the boys how to color nicely?”

Unhesitatingly, Estella nods her head. She looks over at her Daddy’s pages and then at Henry’s, before looking back over at Emma. “They need more practice,” she tells her seriously, and that’s all they all need to start laughing.

Emma smiles fondly at Estella, before giving her just one more hug and continuing to give her hellos to Killian.

He’s smirking at her, shaking his head ever so slightly at Estella’s comment.

Emma meets his eyes, grinning goofily before she kisses that smirk off his face at once. “Hi,” she mumbles against his lips, and while Estella finds their PDA funny and giggles, Henry at the other end of the table again grunts.

Emma can see out of the corner of her eye the half smile he’s trying not to smile, so she chuckles and kisses Killian one more time before straightening up. She looks over at the table again and her heart feels so happy and full. Here she has both Killian and Henry, both grown men, one of them literally centuries old, indulging Estella and her never-ending need to color with them, without batting an eye.

And Emma knows they don’t mind. She knows they love spending time with the little one. They love every time she tells them their coloring is pretty or how big her eyes get when they draw something just for her and her entire day is made because of them.

Emma adores them.

All three of them.

And right this minute she falls in love with them all just a little more.

She puffs out a little breath and gives up trying not to smile. She tilts her head searching for Killian’s eyes, and it’s less than a beat later that he meets hers. “Nice job,” she tells him, and that smirk of his returns in instants.

“What is it about a rainbow assortment of washable markers? I do declare...”

Emma can’t help shaking her head at him playfully.

The countertop behind her however, is pretty much screaming her name at this point, so Emma shifts just enough to see the three trays of freshly baked cookies already frosted and ready for her to gobble them up right there.

“You wanna color too?”

Emma scrunches up her face at that, turning toward Estella. “Mommy wants to eat,”

“You can’t have’em,” Estella singsongs as though she knows something Emma doesn’t.

“Yes, I can,” she tells the kid anyway.

Estella shakes her head decisively. “Daddy, tell her,” she says then, although her eyes stay on Emma and not Killian.

Emma shifts her eyes to him just enough to see a mortified look on his face. “What?”

“I’m afraid there’ll be no cookies until after dinner, love…”

“Nuh, uh,” Emma lets out immediately. “I’m the mom, that doesn’t apply to me, Estella…”

“Yes it does,” Estella singsongs knowingly once more. “Right Daddy?”

“Afraid so, Swan,”

Emma frowns, staring at him, knowing well enough she can’t actually tell him to go fuck himself right now. She hopes her deadly stare gets the message across regardless though.

“So…” Estella breaks the silence, then. “Do you wanna color with us now?”

Emma pouts, shaking her head at Estella. “Not fair,” she says, but that’s all the complaining she’s going to allow. Promptly, Emma takes a seat across from Estella and Henry, and right next to Killian, and despite the deliciousness in front of her that she can’t touch yet, she feels happy as can be.

/-/-/

The next morning, Killian wakes up first. It’s not unusual, in the least, so as always he’s quiet getting up, allowing his Swan a few more moments of restful sleep.

As soon as he walks into the living room a while later, he finds their little kid knelt in front of the large front window.

“Morning Estella…”

“Hi,” she says not turning from the window. When Killian moves to stand behind her, she tilts her head back and looks up at him. “That’s a lotta snow Daddy,”

He’s looking at her softly, and can’t honestly keep the smile off his face if his life depended on it. “It is, Duckling,”

“So much,” she insists and he laughs.

Killian then just scoops Estella up in his arms, and brings her up close to his face. Estella is a wee one still, just about 6-years-old and to him, still light as a feather. Some mornings she still wakes up cranky and just in need of several extra moments of quiet cuddling to get her started on her day. Some others mornings however, mornings like today when the world outside her window is so quiet and yet so magical and wonderful, she’s up completely ready to start her day.

Gently Killian rests his head against Estella’s and relishes in how perfectly this little girl still fits in his arms. “Are you going to ask me to go outside?”

Estella looks at him oh-so guiltily at the question. “Can I Daddy?” She asks him, then adds... “Just for a little while?”

Killian draws in a deep breath and pretends to really consider it for a moment.

“Please?” Estella says then, but her tone is less urgent now and instead a lot more playful. She already knows her Daddy is going to say yes, but she still needs him to actually say the words.

“Fine fine, little duck,” he tells her at last, grinning at that little cheer that Estella lets out.

“I’m gonna get my snow clothes on Daddy!” Estella informs him immediately, as she squirms her way off his arms and rushes down the hall to the mudroom.

Killian winces then when he hears things from the racks just falling and crashing to the floor. He’s about to head to the mudroom as well when Estella just reappears in front of him.

“I can’t do it myself!” Estella tells him, letting out the sweetest laugh. “I need your help, Daddy!”

Killian laughs too, then nods and just follows his little love down the hall.

“You gotta be quiet though Daddy, mummy’s still sleeping…”

“Too right, Estella…” Killian indulges her because he just can’t help himself.

This little lass has had him wrapped around her finger from the very start, and he truly wouldn’t change it for anything in this world.

(or any world)

/-/-/

When Emma walks into the kitchen, she finds Killian right away. He's at the stove, comfy pajama pants on and hair messy as he hums to some happy tune making breakfast.

By the smell of it, Emma guesses omelets and toast are in her future. There's hot cocoa on that stove for sure as well, and she’s glad he knows her so well.

Rather quickly though, she notices their small, if loud and rambunctious, little girl isn't anywhere in sight. It's not completely unheard of that she might have chosen to entertain herself while Daddy fixes breakfast, but it is still odd enough that Emma frowns a bit looking around the room.

She's just about to ask where Estella is, when Killian’s voice comes first. He doesn't even turn from the stove, simply speaks as he continues to chop veggies for their eggs. “She's outside, love,” he says softly. It's then he chooses to spare Emma a tiny look over his shoulder before returning his attention to the food. “She managed to convince me to let her play out back for twenty minutes,”

Emma relaxes and even smiles slightly at that. Killian probably didn't even want her out in the cold but Estella has her ways to get her Dad to say yes to her, and that is just a fact.

In the end, Emma simply hums as a reply and moves toward him. She wraps her arms around him from behind and rests her cheek on his back. They are quiet for a bit, she closes her eyes and takes in the moment.

“How long it's been?” She whispers against his back.

Killian looks at her over his shoulder once more; Emma opens her eyes, tilting her head up just enough to see him. She grins and he simply regards her softly before replying. “Fourteen minutes,” he answers and then adds. “Give or take…”

Emma’s smile widens mischievously, knowing Estella has been out fourteen minutes, not thirteen or fifteen, but exactly fourteen. She doesn’t know how exactly, but she knows he has a way to keep track of time perfectly in his head and if his agreement with Estella was twenty minutes of alone play in the snow, then he's going to be retrieving their little girl from the cold as soon as those twenty minutes are up.

“How long now?” She asks him then just to mess with him and is delighted to hear that low laugh he gives as he shakes his head.

“Fifteen minutes, 27seconds…” Killian can't help answering with a slight grumble, knowing his reply will make her laugh.

Sure enough, her soft giggles come just a moment later and she tries to muffle them against his back.

It's futile and he relishes in the sound of her laugh this early in the day.

“Do you want me to go get her?”

Killian doesn't answer right away. He chops the last of the tomato he was working on and then turns to Emma once more. “Can you pick whatever cheese you want today? I’ll fetch Estella, then I'll finish working on these after she's indoors,” —and warm, he leaves unsaid, but Emma hears it nonetheless

Emma shrugs anyway, dropping a kiss to his back just because and then finally letting go. “Suit yourself,” she says as she moves to the fridge. She spends a moment deciding on which cheese she's feeling like it, and then by the time she turns to him once more, he's setting down the knife he's been using on the cutting table.

Emma guesses they are probably at least at minute eighteen now.

She watches with a smile as Killian walks to the back doors and swiftly puts on the winter boots he's left there prior. He peeks his head out and calls for Estella. However, instead of waiting for the kid to return on her own, he ventures out, calling for her once more.

Emma stays behind smiling. She shakes her head walking to the counter with her cheese and setting it on a cutting board to grate.

She busies herself with this for a few moments and while she’s not nearly as great at mental minute counting as Killian is, it’s not long after that she frowns noticing Killian and Estella aren’t back yet.

She doesn't think much before putting down the grater and the cheese, and moving to the back doors. She opens the screen door and braves the freezing cold air sticking her head out in hopes to either see them or hear them.

She can't manage either.

Instead, her frown deepens and before she can process it, she's reaching for her jacket and rushing to the mudroom for some boots to head out.

Emma’s not out in their yard long before she spots them. She doesn’t stop frowning though. There in the far corner of their backyard, Emma sees both Estella and Killian crouch down. Killian is hovering over Estella but Emma can’t tell just what they’re doing.

“Hey, you two okay?” Emma asks, unable to keep the concern off her voice.

Estella jumps a little at her words and turns her head immediately. There are tears in her eyes that Emma doesn’t miss. “Mum!” She whines as Killian turns to her as well.

He’s looking uneasy and the not knowing why, is starting to get to Emma more and more the longer she’s lost about what’s happening. She moves close to Estella, Killian still looking at her as Emma’s eyes finally find the source of their daughter’s seeming anguish.

“Oh, no,” Emma lets out immediately.

Estella whimpers at her words and turns, merely jumping into Emma’s arms.

Emma holds her tight on instinct and kisses her little head. She looks up at Killian who’s still looking just as affected as Estella and then back at the cause of their grief; there in the corner, half buried in the snow, two fluffy little things lay rather lifeless.

“It’s okay…” Emma coos at the kid, who’s now crying softly against her chest. It breaks Emma’s heart at once; Estella may not always show it too openly, but her kid is a sensitive one and there’s no question two hurt little birds will get to her.

In any case, at her words, stubborn as ever, Estella shakes her head against her and grunts. “They’re dead, aren’t they? They are totally dead!” She cries, burying her face deeper in Emma’s chest. “I can’t look! I can’t even reach them!”

“Oh Estella,” Emma sighs, looking up to share a look with Killian. He doesn’t speak but she knows he thinks the couple birds (she hopes there aren’t more completely buried) are indeed dead. “Here Estella, how about you let mommy check? Maybe we can still help them...”

Estella is quiet; she doesn’t move for a beat or two before she finally does lift her head from Emma’s embrace, looking up at her sadly.

“We can’t just leave them there, right?”

“No,” Estella replies softly. She takes in a deep breath and after considering it for just another moment, she nods. “Okay…”

Emma nods as well, and slowly helps Estella off her. She reaches into the bank of snow hesitantly, it’s stupidly cold outside and of course she didn’t think to bring gloves.

Still, despite the cold she manages to get the first bird out with a bit of force from the frosty snow.

It’s not until Emma is holding it, that she realizes it is actually a tiny duckling and not a random bird. Its fur is mostly brownish, with bits of yellow near it’s face; probably a Mallard, but maybe even a wood duck. Momentarily, Emma wishes her mom were there so they could know for sure.

“Oh mum,” Estella cries then; she reaches for the duckling before Emma can have a say. She cradles the little thing in her equally small hands and brings it close to her chest. “Shush shush…” She coos for no reason whatsoever only wanting desperately to make the little bird better. Without thought, she uses her teeth to take off one of her gloves so that she can hold the baby bird easier. “You okay, you okay…” she whispers. “You’re going to be okay…”

Emma feels her heart sinking but then she just shakes her head and goes to grab the second little duck. That one is just as cold as the first one and just as with the first one, Estella doesn’t think twice before taking it from Emma.

“We gotta make them warm,” she says and Emma shares then yet another —concerned— look with Killian.

He’s by now knelt down next to Estella as well, and has his eyes solely on his little girl’s uneasy face looking at those little ducklings. “Estella love,” he starts. “These two have been out here probably all night,”

Estella shakes her head at that, and stands up before Killian —or Emma— have another chance to say anything else.

It’s not the easiest thing to walk in her snow puffy clothes while at the same time holding oh, so carefully onto those two birds, but somehow Estella manages.

Before either has a chance to put a word in, Estella is already walking in the direction of the house and the two of them are just staring at one another.

“I suppose we can help her make them warm, no?”

Emma sighs, accepting Killian’s hand as he helps her to her feet. She looks over at him and sadly nods. “She’s going to be crushed once she does and realizes those two really are…well…”

“Aye…” he agrees knowing already what she means without her having to finish that sentence. “Still…”

“Yeah,” Emma nods, smiling softly up at him. “We can still help her…” And with that they resume their walk to the house.

However, they aren’t even all the way back in, before a definite strange sound sends them turning to each other in confusion —again. “Are those…?” Killian’s question trails off as a series of ‘peep peep peeps’ cut him off.

Emma narrows her eyes but Killian can see the start of a smile as she takes off her boots and rushes inside the house.

He follows Emma to the living room only to find Estella crouch down in front of the fireplace, her back to them. They both walk toward her, kneeling down at each side of her, looking over at the small ducks cradled in her arms.

“I made’em warm,” Estella grins oh so widely turning first to Emma and then immediately to Killian. “You think they are okay?” She asks with a sea of hope in her voice.

Killian takes another look at the ducks and then at Estella. “It appears so little love,” he tells his daughter with a small, unsure smile.

Sure enough, the ducklings continue to peep in Estella’s arms as the little girl’s smile widens even more as she brings her eyes back down to them.

They all watch the small, oddly alive ducklings for about a minute or so before Emma taps Estella’s shoulder slightly. Estella is still grinning madly when their eyes lock. Without thinking, Emma matches her daughter’s smile as she tucks a little wavy strand of hair behind her ear. “What did you do, huh?”

“I made them warm!” Estella repeats; her tone proud and steady this time. She chins up a little before crinkling her eyes and chuckling. “I knew they had to be okay!”

Emma nods, simply unable not to get caught up in her daughter’s joyfulness.

“Did you just bring them close to the heat love?” Killian asks her softly then, Estella’s head shifting to him at the question.

She huffs out a breath and laughs. “No silly,” she tells him with a playful roll of her eyes. “I used my magic!” she tells him, stressing the word playfully.

Killian’s eyes widen slightly and he clearly sees the way Emma’s do too.

“They were too cold, Daddy,” Estella continues. “They felt like little icicles, I had to help them quickly!”

“Of course,” he says, completely unable not to give his daughter all the credit right now. He’s feeling awfully proud right now but he’s also very curious as to what exactly she did.

And sure enough, Emma is certainly asking herself the same questions because just as he’s about to form more questions for Estella, Emma beats him to it. “You used your magic?”

“Mmhmm,” Estella nods. “I made them all warm and better!”

“And better,” Emma echoes, before just sighing and smiling at her little girl. “You’re pretty great, you know?”

And of course at her words Estella beams. “I know that!” She says chuckling before bringing her attention back to her ducklings. “You guys are pretty great too!” She adds then making them all laugh softly.

Emma looks over and Killian and they share a look of awe at their kid. They’ve always known just how very special she is, but actually seeing it is pretty incredible too.

“Mum?”

“Yes?” Emma says turning from Killian, still smiling.

Estella matches their smile, her chest puffing out proudly. “These two are mine to keep now, right?”

/-/-/

Now, neither Killian nor Emma are exactly the kind of parents that can’t say no to her children; they most most certainly can. Every day Emma makes a big deal of showing her kids she loves them, but at the same time, she knows letting them do as they please isn’t exactly the best idea either.

Still, when her daughter pretty much performs a small miracle of her own, and then afterwards gets attached to the couple little creatures she single handedly healed and has been nursing back to health ever since, then it truly takes all Emma has to say no to said daughter’s requests.

So she doesn’t.

It’s February 5th, and Emma Swan oh so easily agrees to allow her kid to officially keep her now pet Ducklings.

Is not like something can really go wrong from this decision, right?

And at first nothing bad really comes from it. It’s even truly amusing to have the little ducklings around. It’s the day before Valentine’s Day and Emma comes home to find her daughter (and Buttercup and Westley as she oh so lovingly named her ducklings) playing in the sunroom.

Emma doesn’t think any of it until she walks in to greet her kid and it’s then she takes a look of the ducklings.

Estella is on the floor with them, looking up at Emma with a grin that very well could break her little face.

Westley, the dirty blonde, more brown-ish duckling, the one Estella deems as a boy duckling, is looking rather dashing wearing both a black paper cupcake cup as a bottom, and a teeny tiny black bow tie around his neck.

Buttercup on the other hand, the blond-ish duckling that Estella is positive is a girl duckling, is looking just as fashionable wearing an equally precious yellow and white paper cupcake cup as a dress.

The ducklings are peeping away as always, so Emma doesn’t think they are particularly bothered by Estella’s antics.

“Don’t they look fancy mum?”

Estella’s overly adorable little voice breaking Emma from her thoughts comes then. She turns to her kid and it’s all it takes to have her grinning wider than before. “Oh they do kid,” she admits. “They look impressive,” she says indulging Estella, yet not really lying at her; her ducklings most certainly look incredible right now.

“Daddy helped me…”

“What?!” Emma’s voice comes high pitched and silly and Estella can’t help laughing at that face her mum is making.

She smiles cheekily, her eyes crinkling at the edges in that precious way that reminds Emma of Killian every single time. “Mmhmm!” She says happily. “It was my idea, but Daddy helped me lots!”

“How did—how did Daddy help you, huh?”

“Oh,” Estella says. “He helped me with the scissors mum!” She tells Emma excitedly. “Those are a bit hard to use, you know? And we needed to make holes in the cupcake liners to get them in them…”

“Oh Estella, I love you...” Emma smiles and reaches to hug her. “What’s the occasion huh?”

Estella looks up at Emma, her smile sweet and excited. “Well,” she starts. “Daddy says since Buttercup and Wes are brother and sister they can’t get married.”

Emma nods at that. “Daddy’s right.”

“Yeah,” Estella agrees, although she does roll her eyes a little. She’s still smiling though. “Well, then we thought we still needed to have a celebration of sorts, so…guess what?”

“What’s that?”

“I’m making them royalty mummy!”

“Um?” Emma asks and Estella burst out laughing at her for some reason.

“Mum!” She whines playfully. “I’m a princess, you know?”

“I know,” Emma tells her, faking silly annoyance.

Estella snickers. “Daddy says I have the ‘thority to celebrate them and make Buttercup a princess and Wes a prince too…”

“Hmm…” Emma considers her words playfully for a bit, before she just smiles and nods. “Well…” She says, and it takes all she has not to smile at Estella’s nervous, yet excited little face. “Do you think mommy can be invited to their coronation?”

“Mum!” Estella whines, but she laughs then too as Emma pulls her back into her arms and kisses her head. “You can be the guest of honor, okay?"

“Okay ducky,” Emma replies softly. “Thank you,”

Estella takes in a breath and nods her head. “You’re welcome…”

/-/-/

For a few more weeks, everything with the Ducklings and Estella seems to be going…well. It isn’t the most normal thing to walk out of her room and watch Estella walking down the hallways with two little Ducklings peeping behind her, following her everywhere, but it’s not such a terrible thing either

The ducklings don’t go to school with her, but as soon as Estella comes back from school, they are first to greet the kid and stick to her for the rest of day — and night, until it is time for Estella to head off to school once more.

It is one week night, while trying to make dinner with Killian that it hits Emma. Estella is working on her homework in the kitchen; Ducklings close to her under the table. Emma is chopping veggies, while Killian is prepping the chicken, when Estella needs to use the bathroom and excuses herself. Apparently she goes without her little ducklings noticing and Emma gets to see the moment the Ducklings do notice Estella is gone and proceed to pretty much freak out.

They start walking clumsily, bumping into each other, desperate moving around the room. Emma guesses they are looking for Estella but for that moment, she just watches them. When the sound from the toilet flushing comes, the Ducklings take notice rushing that way at once.

It’s only a moment later Estella comes back into the room, ducklings in tow in perfect harmony behind her.

Killian chuckles when he sees it, but then quickly goes back to his chicken. Emma on the other hand, keeps on watching her kid and the Ducklings; Estella sits back at the table, picks up her pencil again, and goes back to her work easily. The Ducklings on their part, completely settled and peeping quietly, move to be just by her feet once more. Estella’s little socked feet are bouncing back and forth, every once in a while knocking one of the ducklings or both of them. While Emma would think that would bother them, the reality is that they seem to get excited every time it happens

And it’s then when it hits her.

Naturally, she reaches over to Killian and slaps his chest.

“Hey!” He cries, turning away from his chicken.

“Killian!” Emma hushed whisper comes, ignoring his alleged pain.

He rolls his eyes but still gives her his prompt attention. “Aye, what?”

“They think she’s their mom!”

“What?” He asks her back confused. “What are you talking about?”

Emma again slaps his chest then making him playfully cry out. “HEY! Stop that!”

“Killian! They think she’s their mom!” Emma repeats, this time pointing at Estella and the Ducklings under the table.

Killian’s head tilts as he watches over at his daughter and her ducklings. His hand goes to scratch at his head and he smirks when Emma looks back his way. “Does that mean we’re grandparents now, love?”

“UGH!” She cries, and this time she actually uses a good deal of force when she slaps his chest—again.

“HEY!”

Emma’s the one smirking then when their eyes lock.

/-/-/

One afternoon a few weeks later, her mother comes to the station out of nowhere. Despite everything, Emma immediately thinks something is wrong. Things in Storybrooke area lot less chaotic and crazy now than they’ve been years ago, but she still isn’t shocked any time something completely bonkers happens.

Still, while what her mom comes to tell her isn’t exactly good news, it isn’t still the kind of crisis Emma had had in mind when her mom walked in her office.

For her daughter however, it’ll likely be the worst kind of crisis though.

It’s mid-March when Mary Margaret finds who she thinks are Estella’s ducklings’ family. She tells Emma that day at the station, Emma tells Killian, and the two of them tell Estella.

There are tears, there are hugs, there are pleads to let her keep them.

Estella is sad (devastated really); she’s grown to love her little ducklings so much and she just has to give them up now?

It’s a hard thing to explain her the best thing she can do for her Ducklings is give them up, but Emma and Killian still try. In the end, they all decide to go with Mary Margaret to find the mama duck and all the other ducklings. It’s a pond awfully close to their place. Estella is used to play there all the time during the summer but as they approach it this time, they all can tell she’s dreading it; she’s walking slowly, her shoulders hunched, her sad little eyes and head down, and the tears just threatening to fall at any time.

It’s equally devastating to see their daughter this sad, but this is something they’ve all agreed is the best thing to do so that’s why they are here.

Once they are just a few steps from the edge of the pond, and yes, mostly definitely a family of ducks and ducklings about the same size as Estella’s ducklings, they all stop walking and Mary Margaret kneels down in front of Estella. “There is something you should know, sweetheart,” she says. “If it hadn’t been for you, these little guys wouldn’t have survived. You saved them, Estella,” she tells the child, with a soft smile on her face. “And now, well, now you are going to reunite them with their family…”

Estella is at the verge of tears, fighting them so much it’s breaking Emma’s heart —literally breaking it, she can already feel tears of her own in her eyes. She steps forward then, kneeling in front of Estella as well, using her hand on the kid’s shoulder turning her. “Grandma is right, you know?”

Estella nods, sadly.

“Think how much their mommy must miss them?” Emma asks Estella, she gives her a knowing smile and an encouraging nod. “If it was me, I’d be completely heartbroken if I never got to see my little duckling ever again…”

Estella cracks the smallest of smiles at that but she’s still sad, her little face falls only a few seconds later.

“You’re going to miss them a lot, you know? You’re going to be a bit sad for a little while, and that’s okay. I’ll remind you what a brave little girl you are. How you nursed those little babies to health and how you ducky, are the reason these baby ducklings are back together with their mommy and their brothers and sisters…”

“I’m going to miss them a lot, mummy…”

“I know…” Emma agrees simply. “Me too, Ducky,”

Estella sighs deeply, looking at the baby ducklings peeping in the little pouch she’s using to carry them. She kisses them, one by one, softly on the head. Then, when she looks up, determination is all over her tiny features.

It fills Emma up with so much pride she finds herself fighting tears of her own one more time for some reason.

“Okay Grandma,” Estella says, filling up her lungs with a fresh intake of air.

Mary Margaret walks next to Estella and holds the little girl’s hand. Killian helps Emma to her feet and wraps his arms around her as they watch Mary Margaret and Estella walk to the where the Mama Duck is.

They approach the ducks slowly, without realizing it, Emma tenses in Killian’s arms, holding her breath —and tears— as Estella and Mary Margaret kneel on the floor in front of the ducks.

Her mom thought ahead and brought some food to attract the ducks and oh so slowly she starts feeding them.

Her little girl is all but surrounded by all the other little ducks in seconds. It’s then when she turns, looking Emma’s way.

Emma holds onto Killian a bit tighter before smiling at Estella and offering an encouraging nod of her head.

And that is all Estella needs before reaching into her pouch and slowly lifting the first duckling out.

It is Buttercup, Emma can tell. Once more Estella kisses the duckling, says something to it, and then gently puts him on the floor next to the others.

She watches the little duckling peep away to the others, for all of a minute, before reaching into her pouch one more time —one last time.

She repeats the routine, kissing Wes this time, and most likely saying some farewells words to her little duckling.

Emma can see Estella taking a big deep breath before setting the second duckling on the floor.

Her little lip is trembling and Emma notes so is hers. Mary Margaret reaches to hug Estella, and Emma inwardly thanks her.

At the same time, Killian holds her tighter, and for one reason or the other, her very own damn dam breaks and she starts crying —then quickly it turns to sobbing. She’s not being loud, the sobs just shaking her body as some tears fall.

She buries her face in Killian’s chest, lets him be her rock as she falls apart without complete certainty as to why.

If Killian’s thrown off by her, and whatever this outburst is, he doesn’t say or lets on for that matter.

A few moments go by before Emma feels his lips pressing to her hair. She wipes at her eyes and shyly looks up at him.

She knows he has something at the tip of his tongue, but what she has to say it’s more important so she rushes to say it first.

“I think Estella may just be able to keep one little duckling at home, after all…”

Killian is clueless at her words; completely. But thankfully, he is a lot less so, later that same evening after they —Emma— take three at home pregnancy tests.

They all come back positive of course —sudden crying fits a definite sign for her—, and sure enough, less than eight months later, November 6, at 8:15am of course, their newest baby duckling joins their family.

He’s loud and pink, squishy and fragile. Certainly, their love for him knows absolutely no bounds as soon as they meet him.

Estella climbs in the bed by Emma when her Grandpa brings her to the hospital. She’s quiet, unsure as her mummy holds her with one arm, and then her Daddy places a sleeping little baby on the other.

He’s wrapped up in a blanket, like a little burrito, with his head clad in a white little hat Estella helped choose a few months ago. There’s one lone yellow duckling sitting on one side of the hat and that had been her favorite part

After a moment, she finally braves a finger, inching it closer to the babe. Estella looks up at her mom and when she nods, she goes ahead and touches the baby’s cheek gently.

It’s soft, and when the baby doesn’t stir, Estella does it again, this time running her little finger up and down his soft cheek.

Estella breathes out then at last…deeply, relaxing in Emma’s embrace at last.

Emma smiles; can’t possibly help it and when she looks over at Killian, he’s smiling impossibly wide as well. His eyes are sparkling with unshed tears and so are Emma’s.

Their eyes simultaneously shift back to their children in that moment; Estella speaks before they can though. Her voice soft, soothing.

“Hi there little duckling,” she says. “I’m your big sister…”

Emma reacts first; a watery chuckle escapes her as unimaginable amounts of love for her family fill her.

She kisses Estella’s cheek, smiling —more so idiotically grinning, when Killian follows suit and with a watery chuckle of his own, moves to kiss the top of Estella’s head.

He shares a kiss with Emma as well, soft, happy, and then he moves cupping the little —so little— head of the newest addition to their family.

Killian drops the softest of kisses to his son’s forehead.

He locks eyes with Emma immediately after; Estella’s head resting on her chest as she continues to study the baby —her brother.

“Two little ducklings, love…” he says, then stresses. “Two…”

Emma’s heart is so impossibly full, she knows she’ll end up crying —happy tears— yet still tears, if she tries to speak.

So she doesn’t.

She simply nods at Killian; her smile huge, completely happy in spite of the exhaustion, and physical aches in her body.

Right now, all she cares about are the two little humans in her arms…

Her very own two little ducklings, alright…

FIN

#cs ff #csjj #cs January joy #Captain Swan #cs fluff #Momma Emma

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