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talesofstyles · 4 years ago

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Good Morning Indeed

absolutely no plot whatsoever, just a bit of husband and dad harry in the midst of the family’s morning chaos 😂

Harry

“Go get the condom on.”

“I’ll pull out, I promise.”

“Your pull out game is weak.”

“Oi, them’s fightin’ words.”

“There’s a reason we’ve got six kids.” Says the missus with a roll of those pretty—but sometimes deadly (please don’t tell her I said this)—eyes. “‘Sides, I’ve just changed the sheets yesterday. You are not coming on the sodding sheets.”

“Fine,” I sigh and reach down to the bedside table. Why is the drawer filled with sodding Duplo and those tiny, pricey Sylvanian Family bunnies? I’m guessing kid number two, three and four have something to do with that. A few more seconds of rummaging before I finally found my treasure in the very back of the drawer. I lay on my back as I sheath myself up, and seeing as I’m already here… might as well, right? I smirk at her as I say, “hop on then.”

“Fat chance that,” she mutters. “Do I have to take off my top?”

“Nah,” I shake my head, it’s cold, and I’m a considerate husband. “A flash will do. Just give me a visual.”

She rolls up my shirt that she wears to sleep, a really old white rolling stones t-shirt that has two holes and a loose thread hanging on for dear life from the hem. She looks homeless. Gorgeous homeless though.

“Nice,” I flash her a boyish grin, like a teenage boy seeing his first pair of tits. “You’ve got great racks.”

“You’re just saying that…”

I know what she sees when she looks at herself in the mirror and I wish she could look at herself through my eyes.

“Hey, don’t you dare. My babies grew in that body, that’s everything.”

Her tender smile hits me right in the gut. “I love you.”

“Love me enough to ride me?” I say with a playful flick to one nipple.

“Nice try.”

“I love you,” I mutter near her mouth and give her a searing kiss. I run my tongue over her bottom lip, then I kiss her down her neck, her cleavage and her breasts. I slowly circle one nipple, and she giggles, knowing it’s a well-rehearsed move that is guaranteed to do what’s needed. See, her tits are kind of like start buttons. No matter the situation, a little attention to those bad boys switches things around real quick. Her head slams back against the pillow. And she moans, holding my head in place.

We’ve got ignition lads.

I nestle my body on top of hers, and there’s a bit of wayward angling and poking until I find my way inside of her. And then it’s on. Two bodies writhing on the bed. My hips rotate in long, slow circles.

“Bollocks!”

“What? The condom isn’t broken, is it?”

“No, it’s bin day. I forgot to take out the recycling bin.”

“S’fine, we’ve got time before the school run.”

The bin’s sorted, back to the shag…

I slide my hands under her, bringing us closer. Rocking us faster. My forehead hovers close to hers and I open my eyes so I can watch. What can I say? I’m greedy like that. I want to soak up every gasp, every flicker of pleasure across her face. Pleasure I’m giving her.

Her breathing changes. It turns panting and desperate, and I know she’s close. I move harder, grinding against her, inside her, with every forward push. Warms sparks tickle my spine and heat spreads down until every nerve in my body is shaking. I slam inside her, burying deep as her hips jerk upward. She spasms hard around me, gripping me tight.

I rock back my hips and pull almost all the way out, but then I freeze. Because a dreaded sound echoes across the room, grabbing our full attention. It’s coming from the baby monitor. It’s a rustling, the sound of cotton rubbing cotton. Like snipers in the jungle, we don’t move a muscle. We don’t say a word. We wait, until the rustling stops. And all is quiet again.

Too bad it’s not for long. Because two thrusts in, a light comes on in the landing. Followed by small footsteps heading down the stairs. Shit.

“Harry, just come already. They’ll all be up soon.”

“I’m close… don’t rush it, you’re scaring it away.”

She grinds her hips. Also another well-rehearsed move that she knows will get me off. But I freeze again, because there’s a second set of footsteps and the sound of a toilet flushing. Oh, and the babies next door are starting to whimper.

Great.

“I’M HUNGRY!” That’s James, darling little cockblocker number four who likes to be fed on time. He’s three.

“WE’LL BE OUT IN A SECOND!” My wife shouts over my shoulder. “Harry for the love of god-”

I pick up the rhythm. Small beads of sweat form on my brow. She grinds her hips again, and I try to focus. “Just like that, fuck, keep doing that.”

“Sshh, keep your voice down.”

“IS THERE ANY BREAD THAT ISN’T 50/50?” That’s Eleanor, child number two. She’s seven, and she’s one of those children who seem to possess a discernible palate that knows when we’ve changed brands of baked beans or attempt to bring sugar-free fruit squash through the doors.

“IT’S THE SAME,” I reply.

“NO, IT’S NOT. DO WE HAVE OTHER FOOD?”

“THERE ARE SHREDDIES.”

“DON’T LIKE ‘EM.”

“PORRIDGE.”

“I’M NOT A BEAR!”

Honestly, seven-year-olds gunning for a fight this early in the morning can go do one.

The babies are starting to gather volume next door so I try to focus again. It only takes a few more thrusts before ecstasy wrecks my body, making me shudder. I press my lips against her neck as I come back down to earth. But I don’t move yet. I know we should get going because things are already chaotic outside our door, but I just don’t have the will yet. I’m considering going back to sleep for a minute or two. She won’t mind, will she? Well, I’m wrong. Because she proceeds to perform the move that seems to amuse every sodding woman on earth. And causes every man to squeal like a bloody pig. Without warning, she uses her powerful muscle to squeeze my extremely sensitive cock.

Girls, grab a piece of paper and write this down. I’m speaking on behalf of every man to walk on earth here; we hate that. We don’t think it’s funny.

I jerk back, pull out, and roll off her. I try to look annoyed as she giggles, and obviously I fail, because that freshly fucked, flushed-face makes it impossible not to grin back.

“CAN I HAVE JAFFA CAKE?” That’s Victoria, child number three. She’s five, and she’s yelling as she thunders up the stairs.

“JAFFA CAKE ISN’T BREAKFAST,” my wife shouts back as she sits up and hands me a nappy sack. “Harry…”

I wrap up the condom with it and toss it to the bin. “You’ve just taken me life force, woman, give me a moment.”

“CUSTARD CREAM?”

“NO.” We shout in unison.

“HOBNOB THEN?”

“STAY AWAY FROM THE BISCUIT TIN!”

“You want to wrestle a biscuit-hunting kid out of a cupboard and 50/50 bread drama or fussy babies with full nappies?”

“Babies.” I hear a small child get whacked by a sibling downstairs and I feel like I may have got the better deal here.

Next door, the twins are not happy. They’re six months old now, and they’re both teething. Thing one glares at me as I walk into their nursery and thing two stares at me stroppily from the corner of her cot. Their cheeks are scarlet, and thing one proceeds to bark at me like a seal. I pick his warm, sleepy, cuddly body and cradle it close to mine as I lay him down on the changing table. I smell the dampness. It’s definitely wee. He’s soaked through, I think I didn’t tuck his willy in when I last changed him around three in the morning so it sprayed in some upward motion and drenched his clothes. See, this is why girls are better than boys. There’s no way they can pee upwards.

After I put a fresh nappy and a change of clothes, I put him down on the rug so he can wiggle around while I grab his sister and sort her out. After six kids, I’m definitely a pro with baby duty and can practically change their clothes one-handed. The whole thing takes only a few minutes.

I cuddle the babies on each side as I walk downstairs and into the kitchen. They immediately reach out to their mum who’s cracking some eggs as soon as they spot her, knowing she’s the only one who can cure their hunger this morning.

“Uniforms!” She says to the big kids as she takes one baby into her arms. “We’ll do breakfast after. Please, please, please…”

Desperate pleas lead them to saunter out and up the stairs. I follow my wife into the living room and hand her the other baby as she plops down on the couch. She rolls up her shirt and the babies latch instantly. Tandem nursing is harder now that they’re a little older and aware of their surroundings. They’re trying to scratch each other’s faces as they nurse. “Oi, what’s this? You each get a tit, stop fighting.”

They seem to somehow listen to me and have stopped trying to poke each other’s eyeballs. We’ll see how long that lasts. “Finish the eggs?”

I nod. “I’m on it.”

I brew some coffee, finish the scrambled eggs, and pop the slices after slices of bread in the toaster. Breakfast is done just in time as my wife walks back into the kitchen with two full and happy babies. She puts them in their high chairs and I scoop a bit of eggs on each of their trays for them to nibble on.

George appears back in the kitchen clad in his uniform with his also dressed brother trailing behind. We always lay his clothes the night before on his bed and he gets dressed all by himself in the morning. And he’s getting better at it, seeing he only missed a button on his shirt.

“Hi mate,” I say as I fix his button and he flashes a toothy grin at me. I plop him down on the chair, he’s graduated from the high chair now but still uses a booster seat.

“No toast!”

“What do you want then?”

“Chee-yos?”

I nod before I grab a handful of cheerios and set them on his plate next to his eggs. Then I take a few steps back across the table. “Hey, James, set it up.”

He flashes me another toothy grin before he opens his mouth wide and keeps it open. I hold a single Cheerio between my fingers while I bend my knees and bounce my hand as if I were dribbling a basketball. “Three seconds left on the clock, down by one. Styles got the ball. He fakes left, he drives in, he shoots…”

I toss the Cheerios in a high arc. It lands right into his mouth.

“He scores! The crowd goes wild!”

James holds both hands over his head. “Core!”

“Viv stole the biscuit tin, you know? She ate three jammie dodgers upstairs.” Eleanor says as she walks in with book bags and school shoes.

George, seeing his sister walks in, proceeds to open his mouth wide and flashes her the half-chewed eggs on his tongue. It’s his current thing and it annoys his sisters to death. The young’uns think differently though as they double over in laughter.

“Eeewww!” She shrieks. “You’re so gross!”

“VICTORIA, PUT THAT BISCUIT TIN DOWN AND GET YOUR BUTT IN THE KITCHEN! AND GO GET THEM HAIR TIE THINGIES…”

“I didn’t have any biscuits!” She yells and runs down the stairs.

This kid is the quintessential daddy’s girl. She climbs up onto my lap right away, handing me the brush and a hair tie.

“See, poppet, I would’ve believed you if you didn’t leave evidence all over your face,” I arch one of my eyebrows as I sweep a speck of raspberry jam on the corner of her mouth.

“You always do a ponytail,” she huffs.

“Either that or I give you a bowl cut with kitchen scissors. I reckon that fruit bowl will do. Your choice.”

“Can I have some more eggs?” George asks with his mouth full of his last bite.

“God, that’s like your third serving,” Eleanor grumbles.

“Nag.”

At that insult, Eleanor flings a piece of toast like a ninja. Before George can retaliate, my wife gives them both the look.

“Viv, will you at least have some eggs?”

“No.”

“Fine,” my wife sighs. “I’m gonna get changed then.”

I glance at the clock and, well, shit, I should get dressed too. “Can you lot watch the babies and try not to kill each other for the next five minutes?”

“Five quid each?” Eleanor tries to negotiate. “Babysitting isn’t supposed to be free, you know? That sounds like child labour to me.”

Bollocks.

“Two quid each,” I give her my dad look that says the offer is final and indisputable.

“Deal.”

#harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #dad harry imagines #dad harry styles #dad!harry #husband!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles ff #harry styles one shot #the styles gang

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ct7567329 · 4 years ago

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Welcome Back: Fives x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut (18+ Please! I'll mark where it starts, so you can still enjoy the first half!)

Words: 2.5k

Corellia was dark as always. You hated this. As you strolled down the crowded street, you held your breath in disgust. The filth of the planet made you gag, but, you felt as if Corellia was the safest place to be. Crowded and disgusting, the opposite of what you liked. During the Clone Wars, post wars plans were frequently discussed among your men. You often found yourself thinking about the plans the men had. Rex wanted to be a farmer, Hardcase an actor for an action packed holovid, Jesse a dad, and Fives, well, Fives didn't care what he did, as long as those plans included you.

Before you could spiral too deep into those thoughts, you shook your head, attempting to clear your mind. Order 66 had ruined all of those plans for everyone, and two years later, you still couldn't fully process that.

As you continued down the street, you constantly glanced around for imperial stormtroopers. It felt as if as more time passed from the Jedi purge, your touch with the force faded. You could no longer simply "sense" people's presence without thinking too hard about it.

Roughly one hundred yards away from you was a small group of stormtroopers. Out of instinct, you threw your hood over your head and tried to blend in as much as possible. As you got closer to the troopers, you ran your fingers along a soot covered bench and smeared it down your cheek, trying to disguise your facial features. On the rare chance any of those stormtroopers were clones, you could easily be recognized. The empire knew you were alive, and you didn't even want to think of the bounty over your head.

You wondered if any of troopers were clones. With there being only a few meters away from the soldiers, you glanced at them as any Corellian would. You felt one of the troopers eyes meet yours though his helmet momentarily. He watched you as you picked up your pace though the crowd, the slow turning motion of this head indicating this. After a minute or so of your quicken pace, you felt as if you were a good enough distance away from the solider that made eye contact with you. You paused and slid into an alley located only a few blocks from the run down apartment complex you call home. You sat on an empty crate and sighed, pulling your hood down. The last time you felt that stare was two tears ago.

Just like the last locked gaze you shared with Fives.

That last glance.

He was shooting at you. Through his helmet, you could sense his tears. Fives didn't want to hurt you, and you knew that. But, he had no other choice. You remember clenching your jaw, holding back tears. There was no escaping with him. You leapt from the building you were in and ran. You ran as far as you could. Far from Fives. Far from your life. Far from everything. Everything you knew was gone.

All you could ever wish for is that forever lasting nightmare to stop replaying in your head every time you saw a stormtrooper. But, that was a hopeless wish.

You ran your soot covered fingers through your hair and sighed. Just as you were about to stand up, the stormtrooper you locked eyes with was standing at the alley entrance, his blaster held lazily as his side. Figuring it was just a routine check, you began to reach for the identification card in your pocket. It was forged of course, but it always seemed to check out with the troopers. The trooper still hasn't spoken when you extended your arm, showing him your identification. His helmet tilted downwards as he read the name.

He chuckled, "Arilani Forrest? Creative!"

"No one has ever called me creative before," you mumbled, "but I best be on my way. I have a shift at the mining yard soon."

"Oh really?" his voice perked up, "would have never imagined you doing that." He began to walk towards you, forcing you to walk deeper into the alley.

You shrugged, "It was the best work I could get. Anything to better the empire." You HATED saying those words, "I'm honored to work for such a great-"

The trooper took off his hemet, making you stop mid-sentence. No wonder that glance felt familiar. It really was Fives.

Anger and passion fought within you as you stared blankly at him. Then fear hit. Quickly, you took a few steps back.

"Get away from me," you spit out.

Fives' smile turned to a frown, "Cyare, let me explain."

"You tried to kill me! You probably still are! And you just expect me to listen to you? To let my guard down and listen to the man who captured my heart and tear it to shreds?!"

"Don't act like that day was any harder for you as it was for me," he begged, stepping towards you, putting his blaster on the ground. "Remember Tup? I took that stupid chip out after that. That's why I cut my hair. I had to keep that a secret. For my safety, for your safety, for our safety!"

"Why should I trust you?" you murmured, trying to hold back tears.

Fives gave you a sympathetic smile, "Because you always used to tell me that I was the best shot in the 501st. You told me that there wasn't a single target I couldn't miss. If you really meant that, then why did I miss every shot I made at you. I wasn't even close. I was never shooting at you. If I didn't follow the order, I would have been killed right then and there. I knew you were capable of surviving. That's why I followed everyone else, knowing you would escape, hoping one day I could find you!" his smile grew, "it took two, long, excruciating years but you're here!"

You were quivering. As he stared at you, awaiting your response, you closed your eyes and exhaled, channeling the force. You came within arms length of him and placed your hands on the side of his head. Your heart skipped a beat at the touch. As you let the force speak to you, you soon came to realize he wasn't lying. There was no chip in his head. You let your arms fall to his neck as you pulled him close to you, your slow tears making his under armor around his neck wet.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist and pressed your body against his. The crappy armor felt uncomfortable on your cheek but you didn't mind. Fives twirled your hair around one of his fingers, the other hand stroking your back. The only reason why he "stayed loyal to the empire" was for this moment, no matter how long he had to wait for it.

Fives released your hair from his fingers and placed his hand on your chin, angling your face towards his. He took his glove off, exposing a clean hand, which he used to rub the soot off you cheek.

"Still as beautiful as ever," he murmured, studying your face as if he would never see it again.

"Fives, I-"

You were interrupted by his com link. He quickly threw his helmet and answered, explaining that he was simply doing identification checks, and he would report back soon. As soon as he ended the conversation, he took his helmet off and chucked in a nearby dumpster.

"I don't want to be a stormtrooper anymore," he sighed, his hands placed on your upper arms. "Please, get me out of here. They don't need me anymore."

You let out a small laugh, "While it will be a loss to the empire, let's get you, or, us, out of this nightmare."

The dark clouds over the Corellian sky finally began to give way, polluted rain hitting every surface. Rain on Corellia was vile, but in that moment, eyes locked with Fives, it didn't matter. He took off the rest of his armor and put it in the same dumpster as his helmet.

Digging through the trash, you found a battered cloak and threw it over him. "This will help you not stand out. I think the imperial logo on your shirt will give a little too much away. But let's get going. The rain is clearing out the streets."

He nodded in agreement and followed you to your apartment building. As you entered the elevator with him, you noticed he had a look of disgust.

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Fives shook his head, "would have never expected someone like you to live somewhere so disgusting."

"Exactly. That's why I'm here. You don't get options when the empire is out to kill you," you explained as you unlocked the front door.

The apartment was smaller than Fives expected. He thought the 501st barracks were nicer than your apartment, which was clearly saying something. He glanced to his right and watched you take off your robes, revealing an outfit similar to the one you wore during the Clone Wars. As much as he loved it, he hated it. He hated knowing that every other man in the GAR would stare at the way it hugged your body, making you look far better than any model on the holonet. But, he loved knowing that you were all his.

"Yes?" you laughed, catching Fives staring at you in awe.

Fives swallowed hard, nodding, "Just looking at the most beautiful thing in the galaxy." He slowly walked towards you and pressed his lips against the side of your ear, "we have two years of catching up to do."

Smirking, you hopped up to sit on your kitchen counter, "723 standard rotations to be exact," you winked, playfully grabbing his hands.

His forehead met yours as he whispered, "I think I forgot how it feels to kiss you and cyar'ika, I've thought about it every day."

SMUT INCOMING

"Then what are you waiting for," you lustfully groaned into his ear.

That was all he needed to hear. Before you had the chance to take another breath, his lips were on yours, filling your body with a euphoria you haven't felt since the order. It felt as if no time passed at all, he still had every square inch of your mouth memorized. Fives put his hands on your ass, pushing your hips into his, you both instantly feeling the heat coming from the other.

"We need to get you off this counter," he groaned, nibbling on your lower lip. You moaned something inaudible in response as he picked you up and shoved your body onto the nearby couch. Straddling over you, he took a moment to stare at the sight. He longed for the day he could see you under him again.

As Fives grinded his hips against yours, you couldn't help but notice the growth in his blacks on the brink of busting open the cheap fabric. Your hands made their way to his waistband, which you didn't hesitate to pull down, exposing a fully erect Fives. The sight alone was enough to push you over the edge.

"Like what you see?" he smirked, taking the rest of his bottoms off and tossing them across the room. But before you could respond, he pressed a finger against your lips, "Now this isn't fair is it?" he wined, tugging at the hem of your shirt. In one swift motion, your shirt and bra was next to his discarded pants. Still straddled over you, fully exposed, he gawked at the sight in front of him. As he was in la la land, you pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the same toned body that made your knees weak when you first met him. You reached up to touch his left peck, running your fingers down his chest.

"Oh my handsome ARC," you whispered, tracing the outline of his abs. Two years later, pulling rank still sent him over the edge.

"That's it," he groaned, pressing his chest against yours and grinding hander into your hips. You were gasping his name with every push, which only made him push harder. Fives slipped his fingers into your pants and softly ran his index finger up your soaked clit. He pulled his finger out, your moan being music to his ears, and licked his finger dry. Fives knew damn well he was driving you up the wall, and had no plans on stopping.

You quivered at Fives' touch, and pulled the rest of your clothes off. Fives collapsed his body onto yours, the sensation of full skin to skin contact making his body tremor. As you both laid there motionless, taking in the moment, his throbbing cock kept poking at your entrance.

"Fives," you groaned, knowing you didn't even need to finish your sentence.

Slowly, he pushed the tip of his cock into you, listening to you moan under the pressure. As Fives pushed in further, his eyes rolled to the back of his head. He steadily thrusted in and out, giving you enough time to adjust to his size. Every next thrust came faster and harder. Your jaw was clenched as you groaned, trying to hold back the orgasm.

"I know you're close cyare," he said between thrusts, "where do you want it?"

Breathing heavily, you put your hands on Fives' lower back, preventing him to pull out for another thrust, "The damn war is over and we can finally live our dreams," you gasped for air, "it's a risk we can now take." You let go of his back and he continued to pump into you. As soon as you felt as if he was on the verge of splitting you right up the middle, you let out a loud moan as your walls clenched around his cock, which was simultaneously, filling you up. Fives laid down on top of you, still inside you, as you both rode out your orgasms.

"Fives," you panted, running your fingers through his hair. He smiled and shut his eyes, placing his head on your chest, listening to your rapid heartbeat.

"Oh maker, I love you," he wined, nuzzling his head into your neck. He slid his softening cock out of you and got up, grabbing a blanket from across the room. You stared at his naked body, shining with the sweat you two just created. It was like staring at an ancient god. He laid the blanket over you and sat down, pulling you onto his chest.

"Welcome back my love," you smiled, tracing your finger on his chest.

"Hope I wasn't gone too long," he winked, watching you fall asleep in his arms.

It took two years, but finally, the post war dreams you shared were finally coming true.

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crispychrissy · 4 years ago

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Connected - Part 4

Summary: Dr. Austin's theory is put to the test, and she shows Tony, Bucky, and Steve the woman behind the mystery. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2976 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, stretching the medical science behind the super soldier serum, discussion of Bucky's previous trauma & a mention of the horrible things the Nazi's did A/N: I apologize for the late posting, I fell asleep so hard last night I didn't have a chance to queue this, and then I was out all day (good 14 hours out and about) so I am just now able to post the new chapter since I'm home now. As I mentioned in a prior post, I no longer have a forever taglist, but I will still tag series specific people if they request. You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)

Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Bucky made a quick call to Shuri who, after a thorough interrogation as to why he was asking, assured him his arm would not be affected by the magnets of an MRI machine. So now, Bucky was laying down on his back inside the machine and staring at the small glass covered camera embedded in the inside curve of the plastic above him.

“Stop staring at the camera, Barnes, you’re giving off some crazy resting murder face right now,” Tony’s staticky voice came through the pair of disposable earbuds he was wearing to protect his hearing from the noise of the scan. “Might sell these scans to Ripley’s Believe It or Not. You actually do have something going on in that head of yours.”

“As much as I know you want to answer, Sergeant Barnes, please do not speak or move,” Dr. Austin’s voice came through after what sounded like a small scuffle for the microphone.

Bucky blinked several times in an unnatural yet controlled fashion, and when he heard Steve’s laughter coming through the earbuds, he had to fight the urge to smile, knowing Steve got the message he blinked out in Morse code.

F-U-C-K Y-O-U T-O-N-Y

The scan was over almost a half an hour later, and Bucky couldn’t hide his exhale of relief once the table began to slide out of the massive scanner. Confined spaces still made his skin crawl and flash back to the cryo tube he was kept in, but the MRI was surprisingly open in design and not like the ones he usually remembered seeing in hospitals. When he brought it up to Dr. Austin on their way back to her office, she smiled at him and explained most of the soldiers they treat have PTSD and claustrophobia, so an open MRI design was necessary for the comfort of the patients she treats.

It made sense, and when they entered her office and Bucky’s stomach growled for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, she tossed him the orange he’d been eyeing earlier before taking a seat at her desk and flipping open her laptop.

“Normally we have to wait for the images to be reviewed by a radiologist, but I’m well versed in how to read brain scans,” Dr. Austin explained, clicking a few times before leaning forward to study the screen. “Oh, wow.”

“What?” Bucky asked, using his teeth to bite a chunk of the orange’s peel off since his right hand didn't have nails long enough, and his left didn’t have nails at all. Once he could see the flesh of the orange underneath, he slid his flesh finger under the remaining peel and began to remove it in large pieces, trying to avoid getting sticky juice on his metal hand.

Dr. Austin spun her laptop around to show Bucky the image on her screen. It was a scan of his head, he could tell that, but the mess of swirling bright colors on the inside where his brain was made his eyes hurt. There were bright greens and blues swirled with more vibrant reds and pinks dancing around inside the image. “This is your brain.”

“Looks more like those posters… the ‘this is your brain on drugs’ pictures if they were made in the sixties, Doc,” Tony said. “I’m guessing it’s not supposed to look like that?”

“No. There’s so much brain activity that it’s likely what’s been burning through your energy and why you’ve been hungry all the time,” Dr. Austin explained. “Any type of brain activity, including emotions and problem solving, requires energy, whether it’s planning a complex strategy of attack for a mission or a simple math problem or crying at a sad part in a movie. Overworking the mind usually leads to tiredness, which leads to sleep, naturally refreshing those energy reserves. Most humans don’t expend enough energy, even when the brain is very active, to require major replenishment. Take Mr. Stark for example.”

Tony looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes, you’re a very intelligent man, and I’m guessing that when you’re elbow deep in your inventions or developing something, you don’t sleep and will go days without rest… so you find you get somewhat hungry at random times, right?” Dr. Austin asked.

“Well, yeah, I usually keep snacks around the lab that I nibble on so I don’t have to leave to make an actual meal. It ruins the momentum,” Tony said, confusion in his voice. “Pep’s found me passed out over the kitchen counter halfway through making a sandwich.

“Your body shut down and went to sleep before you were even able to replenish that energy via food since sleep is more efficient. So, that is a normal human mind.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, when Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and switched analogies. “Fine, that’s a standard engine, if you will, that can easily be refueled by a small energy source for a limited amount of time before it needs to be shut down and rebooted,” Dr. Austin said, slowly twirling her right pointer finger in a circle.

“Alright, I’m following you so far.” Tony’s head was slightly moving along with the circular rotation of her finger.

“Now, in the case of our super soldiers here, imagine that engine, but amplified almost five hundred percent,” Dr. Austin began to rotate her finger faster and faster until it was a blur of movement. “The need for sleep is suppressed by the serum, since alertness is crucial in combat, so that reboot requirement is easier to put off. In order to keep this kind of engine going at the same speed and level of activity for prolonged periods, it would burn through a small snack, or a small source of energy, too quickly and would signal the driver of the car, if you will, that it needed more.”

“So you’re saying that something is making Bucky’s brain so active, and he’s burning through so much energy, that it’s manifesting as hunger to make sure he keeps up with what’s being expended?” Steve asked, his mouth slightly open in shock. “I mean, I always remember being hungry after mission strategy and planning meetings, but I just assumed it was because I was bored or had skipped a meal.”

Dr. Austin shook her head. “Nope. You were using your brain in overdrive, doing quick calculations and mission scenarios in your head to find the best possible plan of action, much faster than any normal human brain would be able to calculate. It makes you an excellent strategist, but that kind of brain power burns a lot of energy.”

Bucky snorted in disbelief and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “It makes sense. I was a good sniper when I was first in the Army during the war, but after Zola… after he injected me with that bastardized version of the serum… I could calculate trajectory angles and wind velocities and distances in my head in seconds, didn’t have to write them out to do the calculations. Didn’t even need a spotter anymore.”

Dr. Austin nodded. “Exactly. The serum allowed you extra mental acuity at the expense of more energy consumption.”

“But that doesn’t explain why Bucky’s brain is lit up like a psychedelic Christmas tree,” Tony said, gesturing to the laptop image. “Barnes obviously isn’t doing any kind of advanced calculus in his head right now.” Tony looked at Bucky. “You’re not right?” Bucky shook his head and Tony continued, “so why is his brain so active?”

“And that leads me to my theory about Y/N,” Dr. Austin said, standing up from her chair. “Follow me, gentlemen. And Sergeant Barnes,” he looked over and raised a brow as he trailed after her into the hallway, “please let me know if you feel any increased feelings of hunger or exhaustion. The effects might come on quickly, so please let me know if, or when, you feel anything.”

Bucky nodded, and looked over to where Steve was walking to his right. Thanks to their childhood friendship, Steve could always see anxiety and nervousness in Bucky even when he tried to hide it, like when he saw Bucky off the morning he shipped off to Europe. Bucky kept his face stoic, but when Steve hugged him goodbye, Bucky was practically trembling under the Army-hardened mask he had worn then.

Steve reached over and clasped a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze of reassurance.

The doctor led them down several hallways, until they reached another wing of the military hospital which held secure patient rooms that could be locked down if necessary, whether due to outbursts of violence due to psychological issues from recovering soldiers or to hold prisoners who had been injured and needed medical intervention. Dr. Austin stopped in front of a room at the end of the hallway and gestured to the one-way mirror in front of her.

“Gentlemen, meet Y/N Y/L/N.”

The three men stepped closer and looked into the room, all eyes frozen on the figure sitting upright in the hospital bed. Y/N had shoved herself in the farthest possible corner of the bed, her knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs. The photo in her file, and even the video of her they’d seen looked nothing like the woman before them. She looked almost emaciated, her skin a sickly pale that was almost translucent, and her stringy grease matted hair twitched slightly as her body trembled.

“Jesus,” Steve breathed. “She… she looks like those prisoners… the ones—”

Bucky swallowed and nodded. “From Natzweiler, yeah, I remember.” Bucky took a deep breath, fighting against the telltale tingle in his mind of a long since forgotten memory beginning to rise up like a wave. “Doc… is she eating?”

“She was when she first got here, but only if the food was left for her after she passed out from exhaustion,” Dr. Austin explained. “Now, ever since things have escalated, she rips out her IV’s, pulls out NG tubes, and refuses any food we bring her. I’m not going to sedate her just because it’ll make it easier to feed her, we haven’t reached that level of intervention yet, but we’re getting close. She told one of our staff yesterday, in Russian, that she was not going to eat any of our poisoned food, that she wasn’t some kind of lab experiment and that we were animals for not just shooting her in the head to get it over with.”

All of the air in Bucky’s lungs came out in one hard breath like he’d been punched in the chest, and he had to brace himself against the windowsill to keep his knees from buckling. “Fuck.”

“Bucky?” Steve gasped at Bucky’s sudden weakness, grabbing onto his friend’s arm and placing a gentle hand on his back. ”What? Are you feeling the stuff Dr. Austin mentioned?”

Bucky grit his teeth and closed his eyes at the onslaught of memory fragments bombarding him. “No, I’m… I don’t know, maybe? I just… she’s…” Bucky’s thoughts were so jumbled he could barely form a coherent sentence, even in his head. He made a choked off noise that sounded more like a sob before he lifted his head to look at Y/N. “She’s reliving my captivity with Hydra. This… this was after I was transferred from the facility the Russians held me in after they found me to the one where Zola did his experiments. They were, umm, they were testing the limits of the serum, trying to figure out what I could survive.”

Steve’s face dropped and he took a sharp breath in. Bucky’s captivity and torture was not something he talked about often outside his therapy sessions. Steve only knew a handful of stories, ones that had come directly from Bucky’s mouth, and even then they were very hard stories for him to tell—lots of starting and stopping, frequent breaks, and plenty of tears. But here, with two extra people with him, and one being a stranger?

“Buck, you don’t have to talk about it,” Steve whispered.

“No, I need… she said exactly what I said to the guards who brought me food one day.” Bucky swallowed hard, flexing his fingers against the painted metal of the windowsill, the cold against his flesh hand grounding him. “They were testing different poisons and how the serum would fight it off… arsenic, ricin, even different kinds of snake and spider venom. I had seizures, strokes, and my heart stopped so many times I lost count.”

“Fucking hell,” Tony murmured, leaning against the wall behind them, his face a few shades paler than it was ten minutes ago. “Y/N is reliving your memories, reliving your life.”

“We need to find a way to pull her out of this,” Bucky said, straightening up with determination even though his bones felt like liquid and his mind was full of numbing static. If Y/N was reliving his life, even if it didn’t seem like the moments were in order, he knew it was only a matter of time until she would experience how the Winter Soldier was born, how he was forged, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Dr. Austin nodded and looked back at her patient through the glass. “If my theory is correct, which I believe it is based on your shared memories and brain scans, Y/N’s mind has somehow melded with yours. And your memories, powered by your mind’s energy, have somehow taken over hers, suppressing her personality completely. I don’t know if it was some kind of dormant mutant ability that was activated by the trauma of her captivity and torture, or something else… but there is obviously some kind of link between the two of you that we don’t have the technology to test for and verify. You’re essentially feeding her your memories, which is why your brain is lit up like that and why you’re expending so much energy.”

“It’s like she’s stuck inside one of Stark’s virtual reality headsets and can’t take it off, experiencing everything I went through while my brain keeps playing her different…” Bucky trailed off and his eyes widened before his head snapped to look at Y/N through the glass.

In a flash of movement, Bucky grabbed Dr. Austin’s ID badge from where it was clipped onto her white coat and darted for the door to Y/N’s room, scanning the badge so the door opened with a green light and soft click. Bucky, ignoring the shouts of his name and hands trying to grab at him to pull him back, opened the door and shut it firmly behind him, engaging the door’s auto-lock safety feature that he knows secure wings of hospitals have. The group outside would need to find another ID badge to get in, which would buy him some time.

Y/N’s wide and terrified eyes settled on him, and she tilted her head in an almost confused dog-like fashion, her eyes softening with an air of familiarity. Bucky could feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach turn into sharp cramps that almost made him double over, and there was a soft circle of darkness starting to creep in around his vision.

Bucky took three large steps forward, and even though she flinched away at his sudden movement, Y/N didn’t scramble away to try and avoid his hands as he lifted them. Her weary bloodshot eyes were full of unshed tears, and the closer Bucky’s hands got to her face, the more she began to tremble.

“You’re safe,” he whispered to her in Russian, before repeating the same sentiment in English.

The moment his fingers, both flesh and metal, touched the skin on either side of her face, it felt like he was on the wrong side of an attack from Thor’s hammer. Whatever weakness and hunger he’d been feeling was burned out of his body at the sheer shock cascading through his entire being. It didn’t hurt, but it was bordering on wildly uncomfortable, and Bucky was afraid he’d never be able to let go, his hands stuck to Y/N like a magnet.

There was something different passing between them, more than what touch alone could provide. Trying to understand everything that was happening was overwhelming, but when Bucky focused, he could almost feel Y/N inside his mind, like another whisper of a presence, a ghost in his consciousness. When he reached out in his head for her where he’d felt the ghost of her presence, he was assaulted with bursts of memories he knew were not his own, images of unfamiliar people, places, and things flashing in his mind like photographs. Bucky's curiosity was almost childlike, awestruck and trying to understand what his brain was comprehending, sorting through what Y/N was showing him.

The more information Bucky absorbed, the darker each memory became until it felt like he was wading through molasses, each image being harder and harder to move past. A hoarse whisper of “No” echoed in his mind, and Bucky couldn’t tell if it was his own voice or Y/N’s.

A solid arm wrapped around Bucky’s middle, one much more firm than human flesh would be, and pulled him backward until his hands dropped from Y/N’s face, breaking whatever connection had refused to release him when he’d touched her. Reality came rushing back, and the room and people around him flashed into existence, the change in environment and sound disorienting him and leaving him panting for breath, his knees wobbling.

“She…” Bucky looked over at Y/N, who was just as distressed, and watched her collapse onto the bed, unconscious, before his vision blacked out and darkness took him as well.

***

Connected Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @that-one-gay-girl @fanofalltheficsx @joseyrw @lana-writes-04 @gia-25 @klanceiscannon14 @ahahafudge

#connected #part 4 #marvel series #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #reader insert #bucky barnes x y/n #angst #medical stuff

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we-love-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Order Up

Valentine’s Event: Day 3

Prompt: Mista + Restaurant

Ao3 Link

Author’s Note: This one is still a Gender Neutral Reader, but I do use the term ‘waitress’ in reference to you. God, I love Mista. My friend, who I recently got into Jojo, just finished part 5, and I was reminded how much I love this goofball while watching it with her. Anyways, on with the show!

Something was up with Mista. The gang all noticed how he held himself differently, put more effort into his appearance, and they really noticed how much better he smelled. At first, Bruno and Abbachio would give each other confused glances when they saw his back straighten up when they entered Libeccio’s, or how he’d abruptly excuse himself from the table, red in the face, but the truth quickly became clear to them.

Whenever you would come by to take their order, Mista would freeze up and stumble over his words; the usually jokey, confident gunslinger reduced to a flustered mess at your presence.

The older mafiosos thought it was kind of cute- he’d struggle to meet your eyes, but stare at you as you’d walk away. He was like a little lovesick puppy, hanging on your every word as if it were gospel. It was subtle enough that Fugo and Narancia didn’t catch on at first, but once they did, they teased him relentlessly.

“Mista,” Narancia nudged his friend with a sing-song voice as they approached their regular restaurant, “You think that cute waitress is gonna be working today?”

“Of course they are,” Fugo smirked, a rare show of his fun side, “-Take a whiff, he showered today!”

“Is that cologne?” Abbachio added from behind. Bruno just snickered to himself, unable to hide the little smile on his face. The whole situation was too entertaining to him.

“Damn, Mista’s got it bad!” Narancia chuckled, watching as Mista’s face went beet-red. He knew there was no use in hiding his crush from his teammates, they could all read him like a book. That was the curse of being in life-or-death situations with these men a few too many times over- they knew Mista and his little cues all too well. All the man could do was sit and take it, much to his displeasure.

“Okay, Okay,” Bruno interjected, making his way to the front of the group, “Knock it off, we’re here. Play nice with Mista, or else he might blow a gasket.”

Shuffling inside, the group made their way to their usual table in the back room where they conducted business. Some of the workers at Libeccio’s were a little afraid of them, off-put by the mafia conducting business in their place of work, but most of them were fine with it. It guaranteed their protection under Passione, and they didn’t come off as all that violent. Hell, Bruno had developed a reputation as one of their kindest, most patient customers, always leaving nice tips and keeping his rowdier guests in line. All the staff had to do was turn the other cheek when something shady was going on in their backroom; on Passione’s turf, that was the best way to save your skin.

Despite their good reputation, Bruno noticed how some of the newer employees seemed nervous when taking their order or bringing them to their table. So, a lot of the older staff dealt with them, the group having a few usual servers when they’d come to visit. However, it came as a surprise when you worked your way into that rotation. Seeing as you were brand new, it must have taken a lot of guts for you to deal with the mafiosos. You came off as confident, the new little waitress waltzing up to their table with no fear in your eyes. Is that what Mista saw in you?

Taking their seats, the group made casual conversation as they looked over the menu. They had eaten here numerous times before, so they already had an idea of what they all wanted- but hey, what’s the harm in branching out from time to time?

Suddenly, Mista’s back straightened to the telltale click-clack of your shoes entering the room, amused smirks painting the other men’s faces as you came in.

“Hello everyone,” you smiled, “How are you all doing today?”

“We’re all doing well, thank you,” Bruno replied, shooting a sly glance Narancia’s way to quiet his incessant giggling. The boy quickly quieted down when he felt his leader kick him under the table.

“Good! What will we be having today?”

Every man gave their order, Mista averting his eyes as he did so. You were just too damn pretty, and he knew he’d stammer over his words if he looked you in the eye.

You weren’t an idiot, noticing the man’s flustered expressions and how you caught his fleeting glances from time to time. Seeing as you were one of the group’s few servers, you got to overhear a few of their conversations from time to time. Mista- Guido, you think his first name was- was a funny guy, and his little offhand comments and weird conversation topics made you crack a smile and giggle to yourself on multiple occasions. Not to mention he was super cute, and the generous view of his abs gave you some nice eye-candy during a long shift.

Some of the other staff would tease you about it, noticing your insistence to always ‘handle’ the mafioso’s table. You shoved it off, telling them that they were seeing things, but you could never ignore the blush that dusted your cheeks after those conversations. God, did you really have a crush on a mafia man? A handsome, funny, nice mafia man?

“Would you like the usual strawberry cake with that, Mr. Bucciarati?” you asked, finishing up their order. The man simply nodded, thanking you as you dismissed yourself. As you went away, however, you looked over your shoulder to see a certain sweater-clad mafioso staring at you. Locking eyes for just a moment, you both quickly turned away, tiny smiles on both of your faces.

You returned a little while after, wheeling their food in on a little cart. After serving each of the men their own individual plates, you present the cake to them, in all of it’s frosting-covered glory.

“I sliced it into ten pieces, just how you like it,” you whispered to Mista before you excused yourself. The others looked at him, a little puzzled, as his face turned pink.

“What was that about?” Narancia playfully asked, “You two keeping secrets?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” Mista smiled back, seeing you leave the room from the corner of his eye. What he didn’t see was how you stilled behind the room’s entrance, trying to listen in on what he’d say about you.

“Remember that one conversation we had, ‘bout two weeks ago? About the number four?”

They all nodded, knowing most conversations with Mista led to his disdain of the number.

“Well, they used to cut the cake into nine slices. After we’d each have one, there would be four left. I dunno if they overheard me or something, but they cut it into ten pieces now, so there will never be four.”

“Are you sure it’s not a new policy or something? It sounds like extra work to cut a circle into nine pieces.” Fugo interjected, adding a dose of reality to the situation. Mista grinned as he shook his head.

“No- it only happens when they’re our server. They slice it themself.”

“Wow,” Bruno couldn’t help but laugh, letting his softer side through once again, “That waitress sounds perfect for you, Mista. No wonder you get so red when they come by.”

“Ah, it’s nothing. I don’t have the balls to ask them out anyways,” Mista shrugged, starting to nibble at his food, “Have you seen ‘em? They’re way outta my league.”

Your heart swelled at the comment, blushing furiously as you finally went back to your job. Did that hot guy really think you were out of his league? Did he really find you so attractive that he couldn’t even look at you? As your mind raced with thoughts, you found yourself making a few more mistakes than usual- confusing tables, refilling cups with the wrong beverage, and many more tiny slip-ups. While your manager would chastise you for these mistakes later, you couldn’t help it- you were so flattered by the young man’s words.

After finishing their meal and conducting their business, Bruno waved you over for the bill. You quickly went about adding up their total, printing out a receipt before going to collect Bruno’s money.

However, as you found yourself walking back over to their table, a wave of bravery washed over you. Taking the pen in your apron pocket, you scribbled down a little note on the receipt, taking a deep breath before entering their back room. To Bruno’s surprise, you put the bill in front of Mista, giving him a little wink before you left.

Curiously, the gunslinger read the receipt. His face lit up when he discovered the message was for him- your phone number.

“Call me sometime, Mista!” you wrote under it, “Xoxo -(Y/n)”

Since he wasn’t going to ask you out, you decided to do so yourself.

#jjba #jjba x reader #mista x reader #guido mista x reader #jjba mista #mista #guido mista #jojos bizarre adventure #JoJo no Kimyō na Bōken #Valentines Day event

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sleephyjhs · 5 years ago

Text

Asking to Touch Them (REACTION)

notes: all members are included below the ‘read more’ link. also namjoon’s is more fluff than i can handle so be prepared. thank me for tae’s gif later

rules | m.list | requested

KSJ

Despite your partner being a sucker for skinship, you always hated initiating it. You loved to cuddle and touch him as much as he loved to return it, but his personal space was something you’d always been more aware of.

You’d seen first hand in airports and in public how fans and employees tried so desperately to grab a hold of his arm or his luggage, and how uncomfortable it was for Seokjin when they managed to succeed. The last thing you wanted to do was startle him or panic him.

Sitting so far from Seokjin while watching a movie together just felt so foreign. All you wanted to do was cling to him for added comfort, and as much as he’d most likely want you to do that, you still had a lingering restraint that stopped you. It had been almost two years since you began dating, and it burdened you that you were still unable to initiate skinship.

“Can I get.. closer? Is that okay?” You asked, rotating your neck to look him in the eye. Jin’s eyebrows creased between his eyes as he look at you confused.

“Of course? Why do you always ask me?” He questioned as you shuffled over cushions to get closer. It was a wonder Seokjin had never asked before that. Despite you had your reasoning for always asking, you had dreaded the day you’d have to explain. Really, you knew it was perhaps a silly question to ask you partner all the time

“Just in case you want personal space. I don’t know, sometimes I just think you’d rather not be touched and messed with.” Your answer was more of a mumble, but the soon tilt of his head in dismay told you that he’d heard.

“Personal space doesn’t apply to you, baby. I want you to be comfortable around me. If you want to lay on me, I’m all yours.” Seokjin smiles as you pressed your face against his shoulder. He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your forehead that nibbled away at your concerns.

MYG

Some of the most difficult times for you were watching as your boyfriend rested at home in agony. Performing and rehearsing as much as he did was bound to leave him with injuries here and there, but it had been a while since he was hurt like this.

The muscles in his back had become ceased up suddenly. Medics hired by the company could only recommend rest as there was nothing else they were able to do. Thankfully, your capability to work from home meant Yoongi wouldn’t have to overexert himself to look after himself.

When you entered your apartment carrying bags of groceries for the week, you were surprised by your partner sat upright at the dining table, “Honey, what are you doing?”

“I’m trying to keep mobile,” Yoongi grimaced as he answered your question. Anybody would have been able to see he was in pain, “I’m alright.”

“Yeah, and you’re a crap liar. Really, you should rest before moving a lot. It’ll only get worse,” You knew well that he was already aware of this.Considering how many times he’d been in this predicament, you would’ve hoped that he’d just resume to medical advice by now, “Please Yoongi, I can see you’re in pain.”

For the first time since you’d walked into the apartment, he made eye conact with you. As a fan of using pet names, it was rare for you to address him by his actual name. However it allowed him to understand you were serious and maybe he should be too. Yoongi nodded, having considered your advice “You’ll have to help me though. It took me at least 10 minutes just to get here.”

You left the bags in the kitchen island and maneuvered towards the table. Yoongi curled his left arm around your shoulders and you slipped your arm across the middle of his back, “Is that okay?”

“Is what okay?”

“My hand being here... I just don’t want to hurt you more.” You began to guide Yoongi through to the bedroom, matching your pace to his careful stepping towards the door.

“You’re just fine, baby. I apprecate it.”

JHS

“Come here, angel,” Hoseok smirked, grabbing a hold of your hand and tugging you onto his lap. The evenings where he was in this kind of mood always turned out to be the best, “It’s been a long day.”

You placed your knees either side of his hips and sat back onto his legs, taking time to admire him, “I’m sure it has.” You smiled as he reached to fumble with the hem of your shirt. His delicacy when teasing you only made him more enticing.

“This is what you do to me when you leave for so long, you know that?” He asked, leaning into you to join his lips to yours. The gentle brush of his plushy lips against yours only pricked your infatuation with him. Hoseok’s ability to create sensual tension was overwhelming at least, but tonight he was just plainly driving you crazy.

“It was only a few hours,” you giggled, clasping your hands around his neck and pulling yourself closer to his torso. As you divulged into his irresistable kisses, a small alarm began to sound in your mind, “Do you mind this?”

“Mind what?”

“My hands being here,” you cleared. As an idol you were aware of how many times a day Hoseok had his personal space invaded and how much he truly hated it. Although he didn’t seem to mind it, causing him any discomfort was the last thing you intended to do, “I can move them if you like.”

Hoseok brushed a strand of fallen hair back behind your ear and thumbed the pivot of your jaw, “You’re perfect where you are. If ou wanted to get even closer, I wouldn’t mind.”

KNJ

It went without saying that your husband, Namjoon, was one of the hardest-working people you knew, and you had grown to learn that when he was in the zone and focused on his song-writing, it was best to just leave him to it. You had to time your snuggle attacks just right; you’d figured that your golden time was when he emerged to refill of caffeine.

Sooner than you expected, you heard the whirring of the coffee machine as it poured another coffee mixture into Namjoon’s used mug, “How’s it going?” You asked, sneaking into the kitchen and leaning against the counter.

“I’ll only be another half hour at most. Any longer and I’ll burn out.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes gently with his index knuckles. As much as Namjoon was a hard worker, many times he worked too much. It was only his determination to do well, but sometimes he struggled to know when to stop.

“Please don’t overwork yourself, honey,” you began as you stepped forward to reach your arms around his waist. Your head fell between his shoulder blades; hugging Joon from behind was often the best way, “Do you mind?”

“Hmm?” Perhaps you were too aware of his state of mind. He never usually minded when you went in for a bear hug, but for some reason you felt compelled to just make sure.

“Do you mind when I hug you like this? I don’t want to distract you or keep you from your work.”

Before you’d finished your explanation, Namjoon turned in your arms so your head laid across his chest. Without missing a beat, he slung his arms over your shoulders and crossed his hands to keep you close to him, “Of course I don’t mind. If anything, I’d love for you to do it more. I’m all yours, lovely.”

PJM

Jimin often went out of his way to make memorable moments to share with you. Even if some locations you had to visit more than a few times due to his tight schedules, the setting never undermined the thoughts of his actions. A certain park in Seoul often hosted late night walks; the midnight darkness was able to veil the eyes of the public ,giving you the privacy that was so rare to find.

“It’s kinda strange how cherry blossoms are still so pretty in the dark,”Jimin looked down with adoration at your face as you charted your observations, “not quite the same though.”

Jimin paused in his smile and sighed gently, but enough for you to notice, “I’ll bring you here in daylight soon, I promise. It’s just difficult to find time-”

“I know, Jiminie. I’m only playing with you.” Swiftly, you glaced at the floor to locate his hand, which was curled inside his pocket. Without it crossing your mind, you reached into his pocket and threaded your fingered in between his. Jimin tightened his hand around yours, but remained silent giving you time to question your actions, “You don’t mind, do you?”

“What? Holding your hand?” You nodded, notably changing your walking pace to keep up with him. Inside his pocket, he began to caress the back of your hand with his thumb, tellng yo already that it was no problem to him, “I was waiting for you to reach in, actually. My pocket isn’t too good at keeping one hand warm.”

KTH

Waking up beside Taehyung never felt real. The morning sunshine poured delicately over his soft features, highlighting his sculpted face that he watched you so adoringly with. When your eyes began to flutter in the bright lights of dawn, it was refreshing to be greeted by his meek eyes hidden behind fallen strands of curled hair.

“Morning, angel.” He smiled as his voice cracked, “Did you sleep okay?”

“Perfect.” You smiled back letting a small yawn escape from your lips. Taehyung chuckled to himself and rolled onto his back before scooting closer to where you laid. He raised his left arm and replaced it at the peak of your pillows, seemingly inviting you into his embrace.

Taking notice of his actions, you quickly readjusted to place yourself in his arms. His bare chest against your loose hair tickled your earlobe, causing you to nestle into his warmth. You took the time to look up at Taehyung and study his face. He might have thought he was slick, but you caught him changing his smile into a straight face, “Something wrong? I can move if you want...”

Without letting Tae answer you, you already began to remove yourself from his chest and back to the imprinted figure you’d left on the memory foam mattress. Barring you from rolling back any further was his outstreched arm, lightly pushing you back onto him.

“Nothing’s wrong, baby.” he reassured you, using his free hand to fondle and smooth over your hair, “Let’s stay here for a while, yeah?”

JJK

Usually, you wouldn’t accompany Jungkook at the airport. For your own privacy and protection, he generally discouraged you tagging along. However this occasion was different; the group was returning from the last stop of their overseas’ tour which you also had embarked on to visit family. There was every opportunity for you to leave the plane and get into a car before Jungkook and the boys, but he wasn’t about to let you risk your safety like that.

Behind the frosted screen doors, you could see all the flashing bulbs of gathered press and media. Already, it was beginning to taunt you, “There’s more than usual.” Jungkook mumbled, dodging to the side of a manager to get a better glimpse of the bursting lights. Surprisingly, his comment didn’t help an awful lot.

You exhaled deeply, catching his attention “You’re gonna be okay. Just stay by my side, it’s not as far to the door as it seems.” His words were well received, but your panic had already begun to settle. As he continued to watch past staff members, you took the chance to reach out for his hand.

“Do you mind? I’m just scared, that’s all.” You asked Jungkook, side stepping to be closer to his side. You couldn’t have felt any safer by his side.

“Of course not,” he beamed, wrapping his fingers tightly around yours and carefully swinging your conjoined fist back and forth, “I’m keeping you safe, okay?”

^ i’m so sorry about how long this took, for a while it really stumped me but thank you for requesting! this might be my most favouritereaction so far <3

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sweetwritertanya · 4 years ago

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Dressed Up For Halloween (Yoongi)

Summary: You go out with your friends for Halloween dressed up as Cat Woman. When you come back home, Yoongi’s reaction to your leather suit takes you pleasantly by surprise.

Warnings: SMUT! Be prepared for: swearing, erotic body touching, oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (be smarter than this, guys!), doggy-style position, multiple orgasms (female receiving), overstimulating (female receiving) (just a bit), kitten/master play, kind of a leather kink.

Word Count: 3662

You weren’t much for Halloween, you really weren’t. You weren’t much for parties either or dressing up, and yet here you were, currently struggling to fit your oversized body into a very difficult fabric to put on – leather. You were honestly second guessing your decision to go with your friends to this party, even if they begged you to go and complete their quintuplet of ‘female badass characters’ as they put it. As if turns out, you were assigned to go as Cat Woman.

It took a while, much too longer than you wanted to admit, but eventually you did manage to get the suit on your body and could now focus on your hair and make-up, as well as the accessories. Knee-high boots on and not forgetting to put on the cat ears, you take one last look in the mirror.

“Hum, not bad” you say to yourself with a proud smile.

You did look hot in the costume, more than you thought you would. In your head the outfit would only enhance your bumps, cling in to the crevices of your rolls, but instead it smoothed them all out and created this nice line of your silhouette you were not expecting. Pleasantly surprised, you take that bit of confidence out with you to your friend’s house, where all the girls were to meet before going together to the party.

Not only was your boyfriend busy anyway to go out with you and your friends, Yoongi wasn’t much of a party person either. Knowing that, you didn’t even ask him to go, you just told him not to wait up for you since you didn’t know at what time you would be back. You were half-expecting him to end up staying all night in the studio, working until morning. Instead, when you return home at barely one o’clock in the morning, you notice his sneakers by the doorway as you enter the house and the light from the bedroom illuminated the hallway.

“Yoongi?” you call out as you take your coat off and hang your purse alongside it.

Forgetting to take your heels off, they clatter on the hardwood floor as you make your way to the bright room of the house.

“I’m here” he answers back, and you can tell he is yelling from the bedroom’s private bathroom. “Home so early?”

“Yeah, I got tired” you confess, sighing with relief as you throw yourself to the middle of the bed and close your eyes for a minute. “Couldn’t keep up with them. I’m sure they went out for another club or something, but I just wanted to come home.”

“It’s understandable, pumpkin. I don’t know why you keep going out with… them…”

You slowly open your eyes as Yoongi’s voice grows closer and suddenly fades away as he seemingly loses his train of thought. Standing in the doorway between the bedroom and the bathroom, was Yoongi, wearing an old red stripped long sleeved tee and some loose black pajama trousers, one towel around his neck that he was probably using to dry his wet hair. His light brown sugar skin was a lot more pinkish from the hot shower, his small lips plump red, short hair dripping droplets of water to his hands and the fluffy towel. He stood with lips slightly open, sharp eyes wider than usual.

“Are you done, baby?” you ask, sitting up on the bed with effort. “I should go and take a shower too, get out of this outfit and into my pajamas.”

You force yourself to jump up to your feet and walk towards the bathroom, intending on kissing Yoongi on the cheek as you walk by. But as you lean in, he rotates his body your way, one arm coming to stop you in your tracks as it curves around your waist and your lips land instead on his. He presses his warm lips softly on yours in a sweet smooch.

“Changing so quick? I’ve barely even appreciated the costume you’re wearing” he complains, keeping his hand at your hips so you can’t move away.

“Hum? Oh, yeah, I went as Cat Woman. What do you think?”

You give him a twirl so he sees the full effect of the outfit, kitty tail and all. He smiles and bites his bottom lip as he looks up and down, a coy stare once his eyes reach yours again.

“I quite like it. You look sexy in it. Is this real leather?”

His hands busy themselves at your sides, rubbing the material up and down, creating unintentionally – or maybe not – a fiery trail underneath your skin.

“No, it’s faux leather. The whole costume was only about fifty bucks, if I recall.” You can’t help but notice how his fingers are resistant to drop from the material in question, eyes glued to where his hands were. It makes you wonder. “Why? Are you a fan of leather by any chance?”

“I didn’t think I was. Maybe it’s just the way it looks on you.”

He says the last sentence peering at your eyes, the ebony irises in his getting slightly swallowed by the dark pupil. Your heart flips at that suggestion and you smile bashfully at the ground for a moment, puling your hair behind your ear.

“I can keep it on for a while longer, if you’d like” you propose, clasping your hand behind your back innocently.

“I would like that very much so” he agrees, leaning in as his hands circle around your sides to pull your back towards him, bodies flushed together as he joins his lips on yours again.

As his mouth distracts you with heart-warming caresses and butterfly-inducing nibbling, he slowly guides you backwards to the bed and it takes your back coming in contact with the mattress to even notice it. Hoovering above you, Yoongi kisses at your lips and jaw and neck a few more times before settling besides you on his side, one arm folded under his head and the other hand magnetized to the curve of your covered hip, brushing up and down the leather material with contentment.

“Tell me about your night out. Had fun before you grew tired?” he asks, curious eyes set on yours as you roll to your side too to face him.

“Yeah, it was fun. I haven’t seen my friends in a while, so it’s always a blast when we get all together like this. They just have a lot more energy than me for partying and stuff.”

The greedy hand moves up from your waist to your protruding stomach, drawing lines across the fabric until his hand rests just beneath the swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel your racing heart even with the clothing and your skin in between.

“Looking like this, I bet a lot of guys had their eyes on you” he whispers darkly, a tone sounding like something in between anger and regret. “I should have gone with you.”

“Babe, I didn’t even ask because I know you don’t like this stuff. I don’t really either, but I went because they’re my friends. And if anyone was looking, I certainly didn’t notice. I only have eyes for you, Yoongi.” You place a reassuring hand cradling his cute round face, thumb brushing his puffy cheek. Gosh, this man was just as adorable as he was sexy.

“I know, kitten. Still, don’t be afraid of asking me to do something just because you know I won’t like it. I do stuff all the time for the members that I don’t particularly care about, but I do it for them. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I don’t do the same for my girlfriend?” he explains.

The teasing hand had brushed just barely over your left breast and moved down your back until it landed on your clothed butt cheek, apparently focusing on cupping the lower flesh, those wonderful fingers just inches away from your sensitive center. You gulped and tried to fight back the surge of heat creeping in your cheeks.

“Okay, babe. But what was that you called me? ‘Kitten’? That’s new” you notice, smirking.

“Sounds fitted right now” he declared, eyes looking up at your cat ears and the hand at your rump grabs the leather tail and pulls on it, making you gasp at the sudden tug. “Why? Do you not like it?”

Yoongi moves from his laying position to come and hoover above your body with his upper weight supported by his arms. Lips pulled into a conceited smirk, hair still damp framing around his face, eyes looking lovingly into yours.

“I actually don’t really mind it at all” you confess, rolling to your back and pulling him in by his neck for a much-awaited kiss.

The insides of your lower belly tightened and waves of arousal coursed down your spine as his lips engaged fervently with yours in a sensual encounter. He was reverent and passionate, moving his head further to the right in order to kiss you deeper, teeth scrapping your lips in the process. You moan into his mouth and your fingers pull the fabric of his t-shirt up until you can feel his smooth skin of his back against the palm of your hands. You are still wearing your leather gloves, with only the fingertips bare, and Yoongi shudders at your touch. He moves up just enough for him to remove his shirt the rest of the way out, leaving him in his naked torso in a captivating view. Coming down to reattach his lips with the skin of your jaw and neck, your nails claw down his spine and leave red stripes behind, making him grunt against your ear.

“My kitten has some sharp claws” he murmurs. “Careful now, you don’t want to hurt your Master, do you?”

Oh, that brings a swooping feeling in your stomach and you can almost feel the pooling happening between your legs. Your dark eyes with barely any colour left that hadn’t been eaten away by the enlarged pupil search for his, veiled with absolute lust.

“Never, Master. I’ll be good” you promise. You witness Yoongi’s lips smirk further and a renews tinkle in his sharp eyes.

“Is that so?” he nibbles at the exposed skin on your neck and you meowl. “You’ll be my good, obedient kitten?”

“Yes” you breath out, shakily.

He stops all of his doings and pinches your sides just enough to get your attention.

“Yes, what?” he demands, in an overbearing tone.

“Y-Yes, Master” you rectify, much to his pleasure.

“Better. Now, shall we remove this entrapping clothing from my sweet kitten?”

You couldn’t have been more eager to do so. Your skin was sweating with anticipation, body overheating due to his kisses, womb drenched and dripping. As much as Yoongi seemed to appreciate the leather costume, you wanted nothing more than to get rid of it since it stood between you and his skin.

It took a while and thankfully Yoongi helped you without you even having to ask for it, dragging the big zipper down and slowly revealing your bare skin underneath, kissing it as it showed up. You were only half-undressed, trying to pull the fabric out of your thick legs, when he undid the hooks of your bra. You gasped, followed by a moan, when you felt his hands come from behind and squeeze at your tits, palming your erect nipples at first before purposely pulling and tweaking at them between his fingers. Your back arches and breath hitch on your throat.

“M-Master…!” you whine, clutching your legs together in search of some relief.

“Be a good kitten and take off the rest of the clothes. But leave the ears” he orders, hot breath against your ear that he proceeds to lick before stepping back and letting you do as he asks.

Boots gone and tight fabric forced off your skin, you stand now in front of him in nothing but black silky panties and your cat ears. Like he had done before, Yoongi takes his time to look you up and down as he licks his lips hungrily. The dark pajamas pants were tenting at his crotch and your fingers itched to reach for him. But he had other plans.

“Take your underwear off” he commands.

Biting your lip, you hook your thumbs on the sides of the panties and push them down your legs, noticing the large stain they already had at the center. You look back at Yoongi with a mixture f nervousness and pure excitement.

“On all fours in the middle of the bed. And I want your pussy soundly presented to me.”

You gulp in dry, goosebumps originating at the back of your neck and up your arms. Obeying, you face the headboard and stand in all fours, curving your back enough so that your ass is up in the air and you feel the coldness against your singing core. Your heart hammers against your ribcage strongly as you await his next move.

Two rough hands suddenly come in contact with your ass cheeks, making you gasp, and the thumbs spread you open for his pleasuring view.

“My kitten has such a pretty wet pussy” he praises, to which you can’t really respond other than hiding your face in the pillows and moaning.

“That’s it. Don’t fight back those beautiful sounds you make, do you hear me, kitten?” he encourages you.

Before you can even nod, not trusting your voice at the moment, you feel Yoongi’s lips and tongue sucking and slurping at your fleshy rear, leaving out trails of saliva on your warm skin that rapidly grow cold at the room’s air. His hands are grabbing you by the spot where your botty meets your upper thighs, kneading at the malleable skin while his mouth remains attached to your meaty bum.

Of course, that only turns your already drenched cunt basically dripping between your thighs, his actions building a bonfire inside your womb so wild that you worry it will burn your mind permanently. And then his expert tongue slips in between your puffy lower lips abruptly. You are sure the sounds that left your mouth were never made before and if your mind wasn’t gone before, it would be completely shattered now.

He is avid and determined, tongue trashing up and down your slit, circling your throbbing entrance, finding your clit and sucking on it between his lips. Your face is buried against the mattress and you feel like you can’t breathe, something building up and up and up deep inside you. In a merciful move, that warm slick tongue slides easily in your aching tunnel and swirls at your lavish inner walls in the most delectable way.

Your juices runs down his chin as he slurps your essence, his tongue never resting as it fucks you and when he takes his thumb to wiggle at your hard nub at the same time his tongue continues the maddening work, your break down crying into the sheets, hips writhing against his face, legs twitching before almost giving out, only continuing on your knees due to his hands holding your waist.

“Good kitten, let me hear you” he says as he takes one hand to clean his face, watching you go through your orgasm. “Ready for the real thing?”

You gasp and almost choke as your feel his rock-hard cock suddenly rubbing against your still very much tender center, his hands on your waist bringing your pelvis back a bit as he kneels behind you to find his position.

“M-Master, it’s too soon! I-I’m too sensitive, Master!” you squeal, clawing at the sheets beneath you and looking back at your boyfriend in a plea.

“I know, kitten. I’ll use it as an advantage. Are you thinking of starting to disobey me now?”

“N-No, of course not, Master” you abide, pressing your lips together and closing your eyes as he continues rubbing himself between your legs.

“Good. Now be a good kitten and let me use this pussy of yours.”

With that he shoves himself in, out of nowhere entering your carnal tunnel and stretching your sensitive inner walls just right. Again, you meowl loudly as you take him all in, feeling him hot and stiff inside, your walls pulsating around him at the frenzied beating of your heart.

The strokes start out lazy, in and out slowly, Yoongi’s slim hips receding back until only the head was still inside only to plunge back in deep. Your head feels like it’s about to explode and yet it’s like you are not close enough to actually do so, not when he kept the pace like so. It was a different kind of torture you were not used to, being already on the bridge of another release so soon after the last and staying there without the necessary stimulation to reach it.

“Master, please!...” you beg, your hips starting to wiggle on their own, hoping to quicken the rhythm.

“Please what, kitten?” he asks, his torso bending down so he can start kissing up your spine, to your shoulder blades and the back of your neck.

“Fa… Ahh!” you were about to respond when his hands found your hanging tits and tease the erect nubs with rough pinches and pulls. You whimper before fighting to gather your thoughts. “F-Faster, Master. Please!”

“Anything for such a well behaves kitten” he whispers in your ear hotly.

His hands come to rest at your shoulders, hankering himself as he continued bend down with his torso against your back, but his hips moving faster now. He is also breathing raggedly against the skin of the juncture between your neck and shoulder, his hair tingling your skin, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the bedroom completely. His staff drags against the walls of your womb at a magnificent speed and they graze at that spongy spot that makes you see stars behind your eyes, making you wetter than before.

“Fuck!” Yoongi curses when he slips out accidently, a frustrated whimper leaving your lips at the loss of him. But he just takes himself in hand and slams back in, continuing the pace as if nothing had ever happened.

Your face starts twisting and insides start throbbing as his cock continues his assault on your cunt, his thrusts now so short but powerful that not only is your inner g-spot being stimulated, his ball sack also starts hitting at your engorged little pearl repeatedly and a few more plunges after that is all it takes.

That delicious feeling at the bottom of your stomach erupts, the sparks of your second orgasm eradiating from your core, the languid relief of release making you lose your voice as you try to scream. All the muscles of your body start twitching at the spread of bliss, your womb fluttering around Yoongi’s cock like a vice.

Unable to control himself any longer, Yoongi’s thrusts grow sloppier and frenzied until his own abdomen contracted and his cock twitched, filling you with his hot white seed in stuttered strokes. He grunts almost painfully and he came, holding on to you for dear life and your were sure there would be imprints of his fingers around your shoulders the next day. You couldn’t really care less.

Both spent and sweaty, you fall into the bed, Yoongi on his side and you on your belly. Your cat ears were still on but barely hanging on your head. After catching his breath, he notices how they were pulling the hairs at the top of your head and, with immense care, slowly takes them out without pulling at one single strand.

“Good thing I dressed up for Halloween, don’t you think?” you ask drowsily with a lazy smile, your face barely visible from in between the pillows.

“Maybe you should dress up in leather more often. Not just for Halloween” he suggests, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Better than okay. I’m great” you assure, eyes falling closed.

“Don’t fall asleep just yet, pumpkin. We still need to shower” he warns, and you feel him getting up from bed.

“We?” you repeat, eyes still shut.

“Yeah, I think I’m in need of another rinse” he states just before you hear the water starting to run in the bathroom. “C’mon baby, let me help you up.”

Yoongi helps you up the bed as well as cleaning your skin, washing your hair and even putting on your clothes. He snuggles with you until you fall asleep, already thinking of what other leather products you could buy that he would appreciate in the future.

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vex-bittys · 5 years ago

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Imagine the Possum-bilities: An Underfell Story (part 3)

The Possum Posse

The world of Underfell has gone to the possums!

Warning: child death mention

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Gloomfanger’s brood of tiny opossums easily integrated themselves into the daily lives of the skeleton brothers. Their instinctual desire to climb and cling to other living creatures proved endearing to everyone in the household, and there was no shortage of willing baby possum perches. The baby possums began their supreme reign over the home by electing the local regent, Doomfanger, as their second mother.

From the moment that they’d first emerged from Gloomfanger’s pouch, eyes barely opened and legs still wobbly, Doomfanger fascinated them with her silky white fur, rumbling purr, and insistent grooming. Eight small passengers could barely cram themselves comfortably atop Gloomfanger’s coarsely-furred back, but split equally between the cat and the possum, the baby Gloomies (as Red called them) enjoyed a roomy and luxurious mode of transportation.

It wasn’t until the baby possums were quite a bit bigger and significantly less fragile that they were allowed to clamber onto the other members of the household, but as soon as the first miniature pink possum hands wrapped around the skeleton brothers’ pant legs, the little possums secured their positions in Red and Edge’s hearts. The gruff brothers, unused to expressing positive emotions, both denied the tears of joy in their sockets, blaming allergies and invisible onions as the baby Gloomies played on their new skeleton jungle gyms.

“hey, Boss, check it out,” said Red one day, opening his jacket like a flasher to show seven little possums hanging upside down by their tails from various ribs. Gloomfanger herself peered over the waistband of Red’s shorts, where she was nestled in the bowl of his pelvis. Edge sighed.

“THAT’S VULGAR,” he scolded, arms folded across his chest. A very small baby possum head popped up from the folds of his tattered scarf and chattered a scolding of her own. The only female in the brood happened to prefer Edge’s scarf over any other perch, and Edge allowed her unprecedented access to it, and to his well-guarded affections.

The rambunctious baby Gloomies grew quickly. In order to tell them apart more easily, Edge made each small possum a differently colored bandana. The female of the group received a bandana in the same color as Doomfanger’s jeweled collar- a delicate rose pink just a few shades lighter than Edge’s magic. The other possums, a rowdy bunch of boys who loved greasy Grillby’s food as much as Red and Gloomfanger did, wore vibrant shades of yellow, orange, green, violet, midnight blue, pale blue, and dark red.

Admiring his handiwork, Edge scowled when Red announced that he had also chosen names for the entire brood. The tall skeleton had a feeling that Red’s choices would not meet his very high standards, and Red proved him right, holding up a possum in a green bandana and declaring with authority: “Dumpster.”

One by one, Red lifted the baby possums, Lion King style, and proclaimed their terrible names to an appalled audience of one.

The possum wearing the yellow bandana: “Rubbish.”

The possum in the violet bandana: “Trashy.”

The possum sporting the orange bandana: “Debris.”

The possums who had midnight blue and pale blue bandanas: “Filth” and “Scraps.”

Finally, Red lifted the baby possum wearing his namesake, the red bandana. “this little guy’s called Slop, or Junior for short.”

Edge swatted Red’s hand away from his beloved scarf-dwelling baby possum. “YOU CAN’T NAME THEM ALL AFTER GARBAGE,” he shouted, not wanting to hear the horrible name that his brother had chosen for his favorite possum of the litter.

“of course not, Boss,” said Red with a mischievous grin. “the little girl is called-”

Edge clenched his sharp teeth and braced himself for the mental onslaught of whatever Red would say next. “IF YOU CALL HER SCUMBELINA, I WILL END YOU.”

“- Anastasia.”

Edge blinked, and Red howled with laughter.

----------

Edge volunteered to take the young possums with him to the Capitol to give his brother and Gloomfanger a day to themselves to relax and stuff their faces with greasy junk food. The Captain of Snowdin’s Royal Guard would be meeting Undyne and the King for their annual status report. Edge tucked the eight little furballs into his armor, thinking that they would spend the entire time dozing off to his boring reports about inventory, training, and guard rotations. Of course nothing ever went that smoothly when Gloomfanger’s little ones were involved.

Anastasia, ever the dignified young lady, climbed up and nestled herself in Edge’s scarf underneath his chin and stayed quiet and out-of-sight during the visit. Her brothers, however, decided that they wanted to see what was happening around them, not snooze through the experience in Edge’s stuffy armor.

The first sign of trouble came when Edge felt stiff little whiskers tickling his ribs. He managed to turn a very unbecoming giggle into a much less embarrassing clearing of his nonexistent throat. Undyne was familiar enough with her skeleton counterpart to know something was amiss, but she chose to observe the situation instead of interrupting the report. Her instinct for hilarious chaos turned out to be right.

It didn’t take long for a triangular little face to appear through the armhole of Edge’s armor. Hairless ears brushed the underside of Edge’s humerus, making him yelp, a sound that could not be disguised as anything else. Undyne barely held back a laugh. The King regarded the skeleton with a frown. Edge’s mind raced, desperately reaching for any plausible explanation.

“I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I LEFT A LASAGNA IN THE OVEN,” he offered lamely. The King’s eyes narrowed skeptically, and Undyne sputtered.

“He really cares about his lasagna,” Undyne added unhelpfully.

More possum faces pushed their way to the potential exits at the neck and arms of Edge’s armor, and their movements made him twitch and spasm in a strange parody of dancing. Undyne doubled over, filling the halls with her raucous laughter. In response to the unfamiliar noise, the baby possums wrapped their tails around Edge’s arms, hissing in fear.

“What is the meaning of this behavior?” bellowed King Asgore, a monster to be feared and respected.

Edge spread his arms, and seven baby possums dropped into upside down hanging positions. Edge looked like he wore a fringed cape made of scruffy two-toned fur. Undyne rolled on the palace floor. Asgore leaned close to the possums to inspect them. Anastasia climbed out of Edge’s scarf to stand boldly in front of the massive ruler of the Underground. She chattered aggressively at Asgore, and there could be no mistaking her protective stance or ferocious noises. The feisty female possum would not allow Edge to come to harm under her watchful button eyes.

A slow smile spread across Asgore’s severe features. He chuckled and stepped back. Satisfied at having driven off the threat, Anastasia returned to her hiding place in Edge’s scarf folds. He gave her tiny head a gentle scritch with one sharp phalange.

“I see Snowdin’s Junior Guard is coming along nicely,” the King commented. “Of course, as Royal Guard members, these creatures are under my protection, and I trust you, Captain, to make sure all of the monsters of Snowdin know it.”

“YES, SIR,” replied Edge, silently thinking that this was the exact opposite of the way a royal guard actually worked but refusing to argue with his monarch, especially after such a gracious declaration.

“Do make sure you bring them along when you make your next report, Captain. You are dismissed.”

“YES, SIR.”

As Asgore turned and walked away, Edge spotted a very brave young possum, Scraps if he remembered correctly (and he always did), clinging to one of King Asgore’s impressive horns. Though the fearsome ruler pretended not to notice his illicit passenger, he proceeded to walk with exceptional care so as not to jostle the tiny creature. He also murmured to Scraps once he believed himself to be out of earshot of the two Captains.

Undyne laid on the floor, gasping for air. When she finally composed herself, she grinned an unsettling toothy grin at Edge. “The big softy,” she commented, and she would know since Asgore had adopted her when she was still very young. “He hasn’t looked at another creature like that since I graduated from stripes!”

----------

From the moment Red stepped across the threshold into Grillby’s restaurant, he could feel the purple fire elemental’s seething ire. His hunger overpowered what dismal common sense he possessed, so he sauntered up to the bar anyway and plopped his bony behind on an empty stool.

Grillby glowered at Red so hard that Red might’ve expected him to burst into flames… if he wasn’t already consumed by them on a daily basis. “Unless you’re here to pay your tab, Red,” growled Grillby, leaving the threat open ended.

Red blinked at the fire elemental with exaggerated innocence. “my bro’s going to pay it when he gets back from guard duty,” he explained.

The glower and purple flames intensified. “That’s what you said last time,” growled Grillby.

“yeah, but i was lying that time.”

“And are you lying this time?”

“probably. anyway, can i get a burger and an extra large order of fries?”

The pure audacity of the skeleton in front of him struck Grillby speechless. Before he could recover enough coherent communication skills to tell Red exactly where he could go and what he could do with himself once he got there in extreme graphic detail, eight small possums emerged from Red’s jacket and scurried across the counter to an abandoned plate of fries. The little ones picked up the now-cold fries in their little pink possum hands and nibbled them delicately, eyes half-closed as they savored the flavor.

Any monster who wasn’t as familiar with the expressions of Grillby’s not-quite-face as Red wouldn’t have noticed the agitation giving way and the sharp-edged flames softening. Grillby whirled and entered the kitchen, returning a moment later with a plate of stir-fried vegetables and a small order of fries. He cleared the plate of leftovers from the counter and set the freshly-made dish in front of the hungry baby possums. The possums descended on the food with gusto, making adorable small noises of pleasure as they tasted the gourmet cuisine.

Gloomfanger’s head popped up from the collar of Red’s sweater, and a smile rippled to life in the purple fire of Grillby’s mouth. “This must be the mother. A moment please, m’lady.” Grillby disappeared into the kitchen again and again he returned with a plate of hot fries and a burger with extra vegetables and no bun. He placed this offering in front of Gloomfanger who gave it an investigative sniff before picking it up and eating it like a hairy miniature Red.

Red reached for one of the fries on Gloomfanger’s plate, and Grillby slapped his hand away. “That food is for the mother of this adorable brood, not a degenerate lazybones who doesn’t pay his tab,” snapped Grillby.

“but what about my order?” pouted Red, watching the possum family chirp happily as they enjoyed their meals.

“Your order? Red, you’re lucky I don’t toss your free-loading ass out into the nearest snow poff.” Grillby folded his arms across his chest, but once again hunger outweighed sense when it came to a certain skeleton.

“i brought the possums to visit you though,” Red wheedled. Grillby’s eyes narrowed behind his ever-present (even indoors) sunglasses, or at least, Red assumed that what passed for Grillby’s eyes narrowed behind his sunglasses based on the low and dangerous tone of his voice. Red couldn’t actually see through the reflective material at all, but he knew Grillby fairly well after so many years of unpaid and antagonistic patronage.

“I suppose.” Grillby drew out the word suppose, letting Red know that he agreed but with extreme reluctance and utmost disdain.

“I might even be willing to forgive your tab provided that you bring these tiny guests to try out a few new recipes that I have in mind for them.” As Grillby spoke, little Trashy, the possum with the violet bandana, waddled up to him and gave his forearm a nuzzle. The tips of Grillby’s flames flushed blue, and he made a quick escape to the kitchen to hide the fire elemental equivalent of a blush.

Thinking that Grillby couldn’t see him from the other room, Red snuck a fry off of Gloomfanger’s plate only to see flames belch from the double doors leading to the cooking area and hear Grillby’s warning growl:

“RED!”

Busted.

----------

Usually, Red left Gloomfanger and her brood at home during his sentry duties, duties that his brother had signed him up for under the pretense of forcing him to “contribute to monster society” though Edge actually feared that without a task or a purpose, Red might fall down as so many other monsters did. Red was actually grateful for his brother’s strong-armed recruitment; it was during one of his sentry patrols that he’d found a massive ornate door hidden away in Snowdin Forest.

Red had knocked upon the door, not expecting an answer. He’d gotten one, though- a reedy female voice calling out the response “Who’s there?” Unable to resist, Red tried out one of his favorite knock-knock jokes.

“wooden shoe.”

A pause.

Then “Wooden shoe who?” spoken by the same female voice.

“wooden shoe like to know.”

Red knew the monster on the other side of the door couldn’t see him, but he grinned in eager anticipation, waiting for them to get the joke. The voice laughed a moment later, musical laughter that left Red wondering if he should perhaps try another joke.

He knocked again.

Sometimes he told jokes to the voice behind the door to the Ruins. Sometimes he just talked, passing the time by sharing his life experiences. The voice rarely spoke about itself, though it occasionally described happenings in the Ruins that he might find amusing. Red had a sneaking suspicion that the voice might belong to a certain missing Queen, but he didn’t bring it up, not wanting to upset her and lose his audience for the terrible jokes he thought up in his ample free time. His brother sure didn’t appreciate them!

Red even told the voice behind the door about Gloomfanger and her babies. The voice became demure, asking to meet the little ones and sighing wistfully. Red waited until the baby possums were old enough to make the journey through the frigid forest before bringing them to meet his partner in crimes against comedy. Anastasia had opted to do her civic duty alongside Edge, but the male possums wiggled with excitement at the sight of new surroundings. For the first time since he’d discovered it, the door to the Ruins opened, just a crack, just enough for Red to see a yellow eye peering out, watching the little possums wrestle in the snow.

Rubbish, bright yellow bandana flying like a flag behind him, broke away from his brothers and darted through the open doorway. The Ruins door slammed shut behind him, and Red leapt to his feet in a panic. He pounded on the door, causing echoes to boom through the caverns of the Ruins like subterranean thunder. A sickly sweet singsong voice called out a familiar response.

“Who’s there?” The words left a sinister silence after they were spoken.

“gimme my possum back, lady!” Red was in no mood for knock-knock jokes.

The chiming laughter from behind the door was tinged with madness now. “Give me my possum back who?”

“you,” snarled Red. “you gimme my possum back.”

Nobody answered. Red stood dumbfounded in the snow, Gloomfanger and her six unstolen little ones standing in a half-circle behind him. Unsure what to do next, Red pulled out his phone and called his brother for help.

Beyond the door, Toriel, the missing Queen, scooped Rubbish up and cradled him in her arms. The drowsy baby possum snuggled against her chest, letting her heartbeat lull him to sleep after the exertion or romping with his siblings in the snow. His prehensile tail, bright pink and hairless, curled around her wrist like a living bracelet.

“Let’s go to my house, my child,” the unhinged monster crooned. “I’ll bake you a pie, and you’ll be so happy that you’ll never leave me.”

Neither Gloomfanger nor her children had ever been known to turn down a free meal, so when Toriel deposited the little possum onto her kitchen table and began assembling ingredients, Rubbish tucked his feet underneath him and took a quick nap in the loaf position that he had learned from Doomfanger. Toriel hummed as she baked, and the kitchen became pleasantly warm, though the fragrance of baked goods was nowhere to be found.

When the timer on the oven chimed, Rubbish opened his shiny black eyes, watching Toriel don oven mitts and retrieve the pie. She placed it on the table in front of him. The crust appeared to be made of mud like substance, most likely mud by the smell of it. Snails, stunned by the heat of the oven, recovered themselves and attempted to crawl away from their pie pan prison.

Fortunately, possums regard snails as a delicacy, and Rubbish unfolded himself from his loaf position and trotted across the table to hunt the sluggish creatures. Toriel beamed at him like any proud mother would at a precocious child crunching up all of his snails at dinnertime. After Rubbish had finished his snail snack and groomed his long whiskers, Toriel picked him up and carried him into the den. Sitting in front of the fireplace, she opened a photo album, showing the pictures to Rubbish and describing them one by one.

“This is my first child, Asriel, and my adopted child, a human called Chara. They’re dead now, of course.” Toriel spoke in a cheerful voice despite her macabre words. “This child came along later. I found her in the Ruins, but she’s dead now too. My husband killed her, you know. I decided to move to the Ruins to make sure no other young ones would meet the same fate, but they all do, my child. They all do. All my children leave me no matter what I do to stop them.” Toriel stroked the pages of the photo album wistfully, lost in memory. Rubbish put his small pink paw over her hand as if consoling her.

“I even tried training my children so that they would be strong enough to defeat my husband and escape,” Toriel whispered conspiratorially. “Alas, that child also died.” Toriel remembered the scorch marks, all that remained of that particular child, and how long it had taken to scrub them from the cobblestones of the Ruins. No need to worry her newly adopted possum with that detail. Rubbish would not ever leave. She would see to that. Doors weren’t only for keeping unwanted visitors out…

Outside, in Snowdin Forest, the skeleton brothers sent flurries of futile bone attacks smashing into the door to the Ruins. They even summoned their Gast Blasters with equally nonexistent results. These doors were meant to stay closed, and stay closed they did. Gloomfanger was equal parts unimpressed by Red and Edge’s magic and dauntless when it came to recovering her lost little one.

Assembling her seven tiny troops, Gloomfanger walked right up to the heavy doors, gave them a precursory sniff, and began to dig. The possum excavated the frozen ground like a piece of heavy construction equipment being expertly operated by a seasoned professional, and her babies pushed the freshly turned soil out of the way to make room for more. In a matter of minutes, Gloomfanger and her brood had disappeared into the tunnel under the door on their rescue mission, leaving the skeleton brothers standing slack-jawed with amazement in the forest behind them.

When she emerged in the Ruins, Gloomfanger shook the loose dirt from her coarse salt-and-pepper fur. She helped each of her seven babies out of the tunnel, giving them a quick grooming as well. Once all eight possums were suitably presentable, they stormed the proverbial castle, seeking out the Queen who had possum-napped Rubbish.

Toriel faced down the mother possum who had entered her home, seven small soldiers trailing behind her; the former Queen was not a monster to be trifled with. Gloomfanger’s tail shot straight up in the air, she opened her jaws- a pink cavern lined with needle teeth like white stalactites- and emitted an unearthly screech. Rubbish waddled over to her, and she calmed down, chattering at him and checking him for injuries or poor grooming. Toriel’s face softened. She recognized a distraught mother when she saw one.

Toriel backed away, resigning herself to losing this latest adopted child as well. Gloomfanger darted in front of her, meeting dejected yellow eyes with her own glittering black gaze. She clicked her teeth at Toriel, then led her entire brood of baby possums over to climb on the goat monster’s robes. Toriel shuffled to her armchair, and the parade of possums followed.

When Toriel brought out her photo album, every single possum found a perch on her lap or shoulders (with Rubbish in the seat of honor atop her head) and basked in the dancing light and comforting warmth of the fire. Toriel poured her heartache out to the animals, and they listened with quiet compassion. Finally, the Queen closed her book and sighed.

“So you see, my children, you must stay with me,” she explained gently. Gloomfanger lifted her head and chuffed. As Gloomfanger rose from her seat, her brood of baby possums followed. Gloomfanger led them single file to the tunnel under the door, the tunnel that led out of the Ruins, out of Toriel’s life, and into the forest which had claimed so many of her charges.

“No,” begged Toriel. “If you leave me, I’ll be alone.”

Gloomfanger tilted her head in the universal animal sign of confusion, then vanished into the tunnel, followed by her little ones.

Toriel returned to her empty house, numb. She had not stopped Gloomfanger because Rubbish and his siblings were her rightful children, yet their loss left Toriel cold and empty, just like her house. Toriel extinguished the fire, preferring to sit in the encompassing darkness, the shadows wrapping her like a shroud while she wept. Everyone always left her in the end, and boss monsters did not fall down. She would exist in this misery and loneliness until time forgot her as the rest of monsterkind had.

The next day, despite Red’s disapproval, Gloomfanger and the Gloomy brigade tagged along with him to his sentry station. Red sat on the bench with a meaningful look at the possum, but she kept waddling along, babies in tow, towards the door to the Ruins. Red hurried after them just in time to see them entering the tunnel. Red shouted after them, but the last tiny pink tail tip had already disappeared from sight.

Toriel snapped out of her cataonic depression when she felt tiny paws patting at her legs. Nine angular faces stared up at her. She leapt from her chair and headed to the kitchen to prepare her children one of her famous pies. She referred to it as Butterscotch Pie, but Gloomfanger and her babies knew snails when they smelled them… not that they minded. After wolfing down as many snails as nine eternally hungry possums could eat, the visitors followed Toriel into her den to enjoy the fire and listen to the tragic stories that accompanied the appearance of the photo album.

Once more, Gloomfanger and her babies returned home to the skeleton brothers’ house in Snowdin, and once more, Toriel despaired. The pattern continued for weeks. Toriel’s nerves frayed. Each time the possum and her brood left the Ruins, the missing Queen believed that they would never return, yet they did. As time passed, Toriel began to expect the visits. At first her mind anticipated the visits with the bleak notion that surely they would stop at some point. Eventually, she was able to look forward to seeing her small, furry children without the nagging doubts.

One day, during the photos-and-bereavement session, Gloomfanger pointedly knocked the photo album to the floor. She waited, with her babies behind her until Toriel stooped to pick it up then waddled very slowly toward the tunnel that the possums used to travel between the Ruins and the forest. Curious, Toriel followed them, and this time, the baby possums trailed behind her instead of their mother.

When Gloomfanger reached the tunnel, she stopped. Toriel stopped too and stared at the possum. Gloomfanger turned to the giant door with its elaborate embellishments, puffed out her fur and hissed at it. Toriel and the young possums stood in contemplative silence for a moment. “What are you trying to tell me, my child?” Toriel finally asked, though she already suspected what the possum’s intentions might be.

Gloomfanger headbutted the door.

“You believe that I should leave the Ruins and return to a life amongst other monsters,” Toriel stated uneasily. It wasn’t a question, but Gloomfanger answered with an encouraging chirp anyway.

Toriel turned her attention to the photo album clutched in her hands. She had fled to the Ruins to escape from grief and loss, but heartache pursued her, even here. Isolation had done her no favors.

“I can’t face them,” she explained, voicing her fears aloud for perhaps the first time ever. “I can’t bear their pity or their heartless violence.” After spending so long convincing herself that constant abandonment and endless longing were her punishments for her failures as a mother, she did not know how to think differently. Gloomfanger, ever the wise and perceptive possum, trotted over and nuzzled Toriel’s leg.

Toriel’s troubled mind spun. She could choose. She could choose to hold on to her losses, to martyr herself by suffering alone until that torment consumed everything she ever was or dreamed to be, or she could choose to let go. She could choose to move forward. She could reintegrate herself into monster society. She could risk heartbreak, but she could also regain companionship to balance it.

Gloomfanger waited. Slowly, hesitantly, Toriel laid her photo album down on the smooth, familiar stones, giving the faded cover one last caress, then the goat monster faced the door, pushed it open with conviction, and stepped out into the cold Snowdin Forest sunlight.

Hope can be found in the unlikeliest places and in the most unusual forms. Some hold hope deep inside of them where it can never be lost or broken, and some look for it all of their lives without realizing that it's right there in front of them. The monsters of the Underfell Underground lacked all hope, inward and outward, until it arrived in the form of an unkempt, garbage-eating possum named Gloomfanger.

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#vexy writes #underfell #fellbros #underfell sans #underfell doomfanger #underfell papyrus #underfell undyne #underfell asgore #underfell grillby #underfell toriel #uf!sans #doomfanger #gloomfanger #uf!papyrus #uf!undyne #uf!asgore #uf!grillby #fellby #uf!toriel

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ecbenvolio · 4 years ago

Text

Antique (Affectionate)

“This is all junk,” says the man I presume to be Lev of Lev’s Pawnshop and Antiques, a man who buys junk for a living.

My heart drops.

I’d rounded up my most prized possessions in hope of collecting enough money to make the month’s rent. This was my last resort.

....

GiGi was a bitter old soul, but I loved her I guess. A trained concert pianist, she lost a good deal of her hearing in the war. I was never sure which war. Or how she ended up in a torn-down rural town like this one, produced my mother and uncle before becoming a thrice-divorced widow.

When I was young, she took care of me while Mother worked the night shift. We watched game shows on a fuzzy screened television and she fed me microwave meals. I would complain that they were cold in the middle and she would throw her hands up in frustration.

“These are not the hands of a cook,” she would tell me and I would silently agree.

GiGi tried her best to teach me piano, but with her hearing the way it was it was a difficult task. And she was not Beethoven. After several frustrating attempts, she would push me off the bench and begin to play her old favorites from memory: Mozart, Debussy, Elton John.

At this point, it would be late at night and the neighbors in the apartment would bang on the walls in protest.

“GiGi,” I’d yell “Quiet!”

But I think she took that as a challenge because she would play louder and louder. I learned to fall asleep with my head in her lap and Clair de Lune ringing in my ears.

Then one day, GiGi fell and everything I knew started to crumble. Mother and Uncle decided they didn’t have time to take care of GiGi and put her in a senior home. Senior homes are expensive, I guess because they sold the piano to make it cover the cost.

That was the first time, I’d seen GiGi cry—after she tried to strangle my uncle.

....

“So here’s the deal,” Lev says, “I’ll give you 10 for the TV and 15 for the microwave. Everything else is worthless. But I can take it off your hands for a disposal fee of 25.”

I decided I did not like Lev of Lev’s Pawnshop.

“I’m not a fool,” I say “That leaves me with nothing”

“It’s the best I can offer you” he leans on the counter.

My hands tighten around my bag, and I feel the shape of my tur last resort beneath the fabric. I look at Lev, if that even is his real name, and wonder if he really robs people for a living or if I just look that vulnerable, that lost.

I sigh. “You’re sign says you also buy antiques. Well, I have an antique.”

I pull the item from my bag and Lev’s eyebrows rise.

A music box.

It’s an intricately designed piece of art, not a box in form but more of a stout cylinder. On the outer layer are carved stars and moons encased in their own frames. The top is designed with a golden model of the summer starscape. The inside is layered with the mold of an angel. In the bottom piece, another metal figure of an angel stands straight in the center, its head tilted toward the heavens.

I wind up the lever on the back of the music box and let go. There’s a slight pause, then the notes of Clair de Lune fill the shop.

The shopowner’s dull eyes light up and he snatches the music box from my hands. He pulls the pair of glasses that were sitting on the top of his head down to set on the end of his nose. Unlike the previous items, he handles the music box with care.

“Now this,” he says, “This is beautiful. Don’t tell me—you found it at an estate sale? Another pawnshop?”

“It’s none of your business where I got this from” I cross my arms and tilt my head, “You seem pretty interested.”

“What can I say? It’s a decent piece of junk,” says the man that sells junk for a living. “Pre-war, ya’know?”

I want to ask which war but that question would really steer things out of my favor. Don’t want to sound young and unknowledgeable.

“It belonged to a concert pianist.” I explain “She played in grand performance halls in the city. Until one day, during a concert, they were bombed.”

Lev scoffs, “Who plays a concert in the middle of a war?”

“Who attacks civilians in the middle of a peaceful gathering?”

“Ah. So it was that war.”

...

“It was absolute chaos,” GiGi tells me as I sit at the foot of her bed in the senior home. I’ve heard her account of the bombing of the Grand Hall dozens of times. I could recite it by heart. It doesn’t get less distressing. Yet it’s the only story she tells these days.

“I barely made it out alive. But I did. And you the song I was in the middle of playing was—”

The nurse aide knocks on the door, interrupting to bring GiGi’s lunch. Which means I’m about to get lunch. It’s a silent arrangement between GiGi and me. The home staff thinks that she only eats when I visit. But truthfully, I choke down the bland sandwich and mushy vegetables and leave her to drink her tea and eat cake in peace.

“I lived on less during the war,” GiGi would complain loudly.

(“If she doesn’t start eating better, we’ll have to set up a feeding tube,” They told the family. Mother shrugged “Do what you have to do.”)

When the nurse aide returns, GiGi is nibbling on her cake and receives exaggerated praises for how well she’s eating.

We share a look.

She’s frail. That’s a fact. Somedays, I wonder if I’m no better than my mother and uncle in how I treat her. But every time, before I leave, GiGi takes my arm, looks into my eyes, and says “You are my heart. Don’t forget that.”

And that’s how I know I’m doing something right.

...

“Great story,” Lev says, “Your execution could use some work, but I’ll tell you what: forget the microwave and the tv. I’ll give you 75 for the music box. Cash.”

Oh. Well. Seventy-five is exactly what I needed to make rent. It was just what I needed except—

“That’s a pre-war family heirloom. Two hundred.”

Lev laughs. We don’t do negotiations here, but I’ll humor you: 85.”

“One hundred seventy-five.”

“Ninety.”

“One sixty.”

“Eighty-five.”

“You’re going in the wrong direction!”

“Tell me who you stole this music box from and I’ll give you 150. Cash. Best offer.”

“I didn’t steal this,” I huff, “It’s mine.”

Lev isn’t convinced. “Take the offer and I’ll tell you where music boxes like this come from.”

“I don’t need you to tell me. It’s from my GiGi.”

“Your...GiGi…?”

I throw my hands up, “My grandmother!”

Lev’s face morphs into a sneer, “Now I know you’ve been lying. Take the offer or get out of my shop. We’re closing soon.”

He sets the music box in the middle of the counter with a resolute thud.

There’s a moment where I think about it. I consider taking the offer. But I shake my head. No. No.

I snatch up the music box, shove it in my bag and go, leaving the rest of the items that I’d brought to sell.

“Goodbye, Lev, if that’s even your real name.”

....

“Are you happy?” GiGi asks me.

She’s staring out the window of her room at the senior home, absently stirring her tea. At first, I wasn’t sure I’d heard her. It’s odd. Normally, GiGi is very loud. It was as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer to my question.

I fidget from my spot at the foot of her bed. “I’m...ok,” I answer. Because why would I burden her with my problems? I’m not the one whose children forced them into a home and sold away my most prized possession.

“Ok?” she spits back. “I don’t know what that means. OK. I asked: are. you. Happy?”

I look away. “Are you happy, GiGi?”

She laughs. It’s a deep sound, full of sarcasm.

“Your GiGi is as happy as she’ll ever be these days.”

“Well, then so am I,” I answer finally.

“That’s no good!” She sets down her tea, then grabs her walker and moves to stand. I tell her to sit down. I’ll get whatever she wants but she swats me away. GiGi slowly makes her way to the dresser on the other side of the room and pulls open the top drawer. From the drawer, she retrieves a bundle of cloth. She takes it and hobbles back to her chair.

“Here.” She thrusts the bundle at me. For a moment, I stare in disbelief, thinking that she had just thrown her laundry at me. But there was some weight to the bundle. Something is inside.

I carefully unwrap it to find a finely detailed sort of container. The outside is enveloped in the raised designs of suns and moons and stars. I slowly turn it around in my hands and run the tips of my fingers over the beautiful lines and curves. Then, gently I open the container to find a just as colorful and detailed inside. There’s a figure of an angel at the center of it all rotating as music starts to play.

It takes no more than a second for me to recognize the song as Clair de Lune. It’s a much softer and sweeter melody that I remember from my childhood.

I look at GiGi expectantly, but her eyes are closed, hands stretched in front of her and fingers playing along with the notes of the song.

I’m happy as I’ll ever be, she had said.

The music box slowed to a stop, but she kept going. Humming the notes along and playing her own personal concert.

....

I found myself humming the notes of Clair de Lune on as I made my way home. The music in my mind did nothing to keep out the anxious thoughts that bombarded my mind. What was I going to do about rent?

Asking Mother was out of the question. Uncle barely had a dollar to his name and he wasn’t going to share it with me anytime soon. If only life was simpler. If only it was like it had been in the past when I was young. All I had to worry about was going to GiGi’s for the night and picking through cold microwave meals.

As soon as I got home, I went to bed. I grabbed the music box and settled under the covers on my futon. I wound up the music box as far as it would go and set it by my head. The familiar notes of moonlight pull me into a deep sleep.

GiGi was a bitter old soul, but she loved me, I guess.

A former concert pianist, a war refugee, a mother, a grandmother. GiGi was many things. She lived to instill in others a love of music and survived each time someone tried to take music away from her.

She always said she’d leave everything to me when she passed. When she did, I inherited a music box.

I inherited the music box.

...

In hindsight, I should have known. Or maybe I just wasn’t listening closely.

In the middle of the night, I get out of bed only to hear a loud thud followed by a few unmelodious music notes. In a panic, I turn the light. At the sight before me, I close my eyes and sigh.

The music box is laying broken at my feet. I gather the pieces in my hands. The hinge popped off leaving the lid detached and the angel figure is bent at 90 degrees.

“No, no, no” I mutter. My sleep-clumsy fingers attempt to force the contraption back together. Slow disjointed notes of Clair de Lune curl into the air.

It was hopeless.

Even the bottom was falling out of the thing. A sort of morbid curiosity makes me pull at the loose piece until the bottom of the music box is completely removed. As one would expect there are the guts on the music box. But shoved in next to the playing mechanism looked like folded paper?

I pick at it with my fingertips. Could it be a note? A letter?

No.

I drop the music box again. This time though, it lands on the futon along with the paper I pulled out.

It’s...money. Bills. Cash. I counted it up, hands shaking. There was enough to cover rent and more.

Your GiGi is as happy as she’ll ever be these days.

And maybe it’s time for me to be happy, too.

#writing #writeblr #creative writing #antique #my writing #short story #writing prompts #clair de lune

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uncreativetitletrack · 5 years ago

Text

To Go See You

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader

Word Count: 8.6k

Genre: Fluff

Summary: All he wanted to do was go to the convenience store with you, but that simple desire ends up costing more than he thought.

You and Minho are walking out of the convenient store with Minho holding a grocery bag filled with snacks. He’s nibbling on a sausage while you’re eating an ice cream.

“I can’t believe you’re eating ice cream in the middle of the night.”

“And I can’t believe you’re eating a sausage.”

“Hm…true.”

You check the grocery bag, making sure that you bought enough for the members back in the dance studio. You look at the time on your phone, and it’s midnight. A second later, you check again, and ten seconds later, you check the time again. Minho can sense how tense you are.

“What’s going on?”

“I dunno…This is my first time doing this…you know…sneaking out. Like, I know I’m not supposed to let you guys eat so much unhealthy food…What if we get caught??”

He nudges you on the shoulder. “Oh god, what are you so scared about? It’s just once.”

“That’s what you said last time, and the time before. This isn’t a healthy habit!”

“Geez, stop being a goody-two shoes, Manager. You gotta live life to the fullest.”

“Sneaking out to buy candy and snacks isn’t living to the fullest…”

“Whatever, mood killer.”

“What??”

“Nothing.” He playfully replies.

You punch him on the arm, laughing along with him.

During the midst of practice, the members were craving for something—anything—to eat. Unable to bear hearing the cries of hunger from the members, you volunteered to sneak in some food from the cafeteria. Minho, who usually maintains his diet pretty well, also raised his hand up to go with you and even persuaded you to get junk food from his favorite convenience store. While you did retaliate at first, you ended up going along with it and immediately regretted it.

You sigh. “We should’ve gone to the cafeteria instead.”

“Why?”

“I think we’ve been out for too long. What if the CEO sees us sneaking in with these bags?”

“He’s currently overseas, so don’t worry about it! Besides, all they have is salad tonight and I don’t feel like eating it.”

“But what about—”

“You worry way too much!”

Minho wraps an arm around you, pulling you in for a hug. You nearly stumbled but was able to catch yourself. When you look up, your face is nearly centimeters away from him. You heart stops beating, and when Minho smiles, your heart skips a beat. You move away, pressing the ice cream on your cheek so that it can cool down.

“I-I just want to be safe.”

His smile fades away and becomes serious. There are moments when Minho enjoys playing around with you, and he knows that you get shy easily. You always tell him to stop, but your warning goes in one ear and out the other.

“Oh, come on, are you really that upset that we didn’t go to the cafeteria?”

You shake your head. “I’m not upset, I’m just scared,” you chuckle nervously. “But it’s still nice to spend some quality time with you.”

He doesn’t respond immediately. “Mm-hmm, it’s hard to talk to you without having the other guys interrupting. We should hang out more like this another day.”

“We should! I haven’t seen your cats in such a long time.”

“I said that we should hang out with each other, not you with my cats.”

“But I spend less time with them compared to you. I’m just kidding. But back to the point, I really like hanging out with all of you guys, but I’d like to spend time with each and every one of you.”

“Hey, hey, hey, just me, okay?”

You laugh. “You sound like an obsessive boyfriend, but wouldn’t you consider this be considered as our first date?”

He stares at you blankly, pausing before replying. “No. This isn’t a date. But since you brought that up, yea, let’s do it.”

“Do what?”

“Go on a date. Just us two, alone, nobody else. You and me. (L/N) (Y/N) and Lee Minho.”

“What?!” You immediately cover your mouth to avoid grabbing attention. “What…??” You whisper.

“We’re not doing it because we’re romantically interested in each other right? It’s just for fun, but we’re really going as ‘friends’.”

You don’t know how you two got from talking about snacks to going on a date. You almost laughed to lighten the mood, but seeing how serious his face is, you have a feeling that he isn’t joking. You weren’t thinking as the next hangout to be considered as a date, but since you’ve never gone on a date before, so you thought, why not?

“Sure.”

He extends his pinky finger. “Alright, promise me?”

You find this a little cute. Minho, a fully grown adult, wanting to do a pinky promise with you. You grin from ear-to-ear, curling your small pinky with his. “Promise!”

But…amidst the fun, unbeknownst to you and Minho, there’s a strange man wearing a face mask and cap, hiding his identity and crouching behind a bush, taking pictures of you and him together.

==========

It’s been a day since you snuck out with Minho, and now you’re in the building just coming out from a meeting. It was a briefing to schedule a day to go a radio show that they usually go on for every comeback. Usually, the members are a part of the meeting, but they’re so busy with dance practice that you decided to cover it for them. They’ve gone on the show so much that the producers from the radio are familiar with them.

You look through the schedule on your tablet, seeing how busy they’re going to be next week. You sigh, not excited to see them overworked. They already lack sleep and a member is always receiving a new injury every day, but with the inclusion of going on shows and having cameras on them constantly is just another add-on to their stress. Then again, this is a part of their job, and the best you can do is try to make it as easy as possible for them.

“Miss (Y/N).” Calling from behind you is the head of the casting department’s secretary, Miss Choi.

You give her a polite smile, bowing slightly. “Good afternoon!”

“Choi Eunha would like to see you in her office.”

“Right now? I was just about to head to the boys’ practice room.”

“Yes, this is urgent, and she needs you immediately.”

You don’t like the sound of that. You rarely see your boss, and when you do, it’s usually because you get into quarrels with her. It was like that as well when you appointed yourself as Stray Kids’ manager even after she deemed you as too unprepared to handle a boy group.

You sigh, but you also crack a smile. “Okay.”

==========

In Eunha’s office, the walls are covered in dark green wallpaper, shelves filled with music scores, trophies, and how-to books on building successful businesses. Hanging on the walls are photos of when your boss was younger, shaking hands with the J.Y.P. along with other important figures. Her desk has a folder organizer, which is basically a convenient metal divider that holds paper. On the opposite end is her desktop computer.

Sitting on the other side of the mahogany desk is you, your shoulders crunched up as you look around the room that you’ve seen many times before. There’s a stern look on her face, meaning that what she’s about to tell you isn’t going to be in your favor. She types, tapping each key individually with her long, witch nails painted red.

Once she’s done that, she rotates her computer around to show what’s on her screen. “Read this for me. Aloud.”

Displayed in front of you is an online article. There’s the title in bold fonts. “Lee Know of Stray Kids Spotted with an Unidentified Woman at a Convenient Stor—WHAT?!”

You cover your mouth with both your hands in utter shock. Underneath the title is a picture of you and Minho, and his arm is around your neck. You can clearly see a side view of Minho’s face, but thankfully your face has been obscured, only revealing your back. Even then, you were wearing your hoodie over your head, so it isn’t even possible to see you entirely.

But still, it doesn’t solve the issue that you and Minho have been caught together. Judging by this picture alone, you can already sense the enormous amout of backlash from both the entertainment world and the consumers. This speaks high volume that this looks like you and Minho were on a date.

“You should be kissing God’s ass right now that the netizen couldn’t get a picture of your face, but who knows when they’ll dig up your identity. Care to explain why you and Lee Minho were out so late at night?” Without even having to ask her, she’s clearly trying to reserve her anger.

“Uhm…okay…it’s not what it looks like, Ma’am…Minho and I wanted to get some fresh air.”

“And why did you guys decide to go out when you guys could’ve just hung outside the building?”

“Well…uh…you see…the boys were getting hungry. They were starving! So I couldn’t let them practice in that state, so I offered to go buy food for them and Minho tagged along with me.”

But you’re unable to convince her, so she opens her mouth to begin her lecture, but you think of anything to interrupt her. “Look, Ma’am! It’s not what you think!! You know how journalists are!! Ah ha ha…they make things seem more dramatic than usual just to get the clicks. Minho and I weren’t going on a date. They were craving for some snacks, so we went out. That’s all! There’s nothing going on between me and Minho. Absolutely nothing.”

Eunha raises an eyebrow, crossing her eyes as she leans back in her chair. The lack of response makes you anxious, internally begging for her to just say something, anything.

“I know it wasn’t your intention to be caught, and I’m gonna go on the limb and believe that you and Lee Minho aren’t dating. However. You still violated the rules. You should be well aware that, as their manager, you must keep your relationship with them professional.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

“And! During their dieting phase, they must not eat any junk food. I trusted you with that responsibility, but you failed to maintain it.”

“I’m very sorry!” You bow. “This won’t happen again! Please, do whatever you want with me, but don’t punish the boys.”

“Hm…very well. Then I have something in mind for you.”

==========

“What?!” Everybody shouts in unison.

In the dance practice room, the nine boys surround you in a semi-circle. Your head is sow and your shoulders are slumped with shame. Everyone is devastated with the news, but Minho is the one who’s been impacted the most.

“What are we going to do?!” Hyunjin pulls his hair.

“That’s it. We might as well say our goodbyes to each other. We’re not gonna last a week,” Changbin says, like he’s reciting a line from a soap opera. “We’re gonna die.”

“Changbin, it’s not the end of the world. You guys will be fine,” You elbow him playfully, although it was a bit forced. “As much as I don’t want to separate from you guys either, there’s not much we can do.”

Eunha has decided that you will not be with them during their comeback. In order to avoid more gossip, she thought it would be safest if you did work at home, scheduling and making phone calls, and wait until the rumors have died down until you can work with them again. Not only that, but you also can’t text or call them, and if you had something to say, you would have to contact their temporary manager. You can’t even be in the building if they’re in the building as well. You’re practically quarantined from them.

“Isn’t this a bit too much…?” Felix asks with a saddened tone.

“It is…but honestly, this is better than being fired, am I right?” You said that as a joke, but nobody laughs.

“So…no texting? No calling?” Hyunjin asks.

“We can’t even say hi to you?” Seungmin also asks.

You shake your head. “You guys have to pretend that I don’t exist. But don’t worry! It’ll just be temporary. Once the public forgets about it, then I’ll be back in no time. I’ll sure the temp manager will take care of you guys well.”

“But…it’s not gonna the same without you.” Jisung sulks

“Who’s gonna carry my stuff? Our stage clothes? My gaming consoles??” Jeongin tries his best not to panic.

You lower your eyebrows. “Your new manager will do all that for you. And I’m your manager, not your bellboy.”

“I know…but what if the new manager glares at me if I ask him to carry my stuff? At least you understand.”

“Guys, we shouldn’t be whining about it. It’s technically our fault too,” Chan chimes in. “We’re the ones who kept begging for food, and we were well aware of the rules too. The decision has already been made, so what we can do now is continue training and prove that we can do this ourselves!”

“Remember when Chan had to be our manager for a time because we couldn’t afford one?” Woojin adds. “Having (Y/N) babysit us made us forget that we’ve did it before, and we can do it again.”

“Well…don’t prove too well that you guys are independent. Otherwise, I’m not gonna have a job.” You jester.

“Yea…yea, you’re right. We got this!” Jisung cheers, fist pumping the air.

“But…I’m still gonna miss you.” Felix says, but instinctively in English.

“I’ll miss you guys too, but it won’t be for long.”

You love each and every member, especially for how positive their mindset is. Even though they go through their own individual struggles, they do their best to overcome them and help each other. They started from scratch before, so not having you isn’t going to be a problem.

…Or at least that’s what you hope so. You turn to Minho, who hasn’t said a single world since you broke the news. “Minho? Are you okay?”

Almost like that was a trigger, he marches out of the practice room. He’s clearly upset by this, but even more than the members. You run after him, following his heavy footsteps.

==========

Minho is standing by the elevator, tapping his foot as he waits for the doors to slide open. His arms are crossed, and although his expression is like his usual blank look, there’s fury behind his eyes, like he’s about to start a fire.

You catch up to him before the doors open, leaning over and putting your hands on your knees to keep you up. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to talk to your boss.”

“What?!”

“It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

“You’re the only one who’s being punished when I played a part in it too.”

The elevator dings and the doors open. Before he enters, you grab him by the sleeve. “Wait! You’re not serious about talking to her, are you?”

His silence is his way of saying ‘yes, I’m serious.’

“Please think about it carefully. I’m sure it’s because you guys are releasing a new album soon and punishing you guys will just intervene with your schedule. She probably wants you guys to focus on practicing.”

“Then why didn’t she say anything to us? Why is it just you? Did she not say anything about us at all?”

You let go of his sleeve, scratching your chin. “…She didn’t say anything…But! I guarantee that it’s because you guys are working and being disciplined is not going make things any better. If anything, if you want to be cynical, then it could also be because she didn’t want to get in trouble herself! You guys are well-loved, so if she was caught yelling at you guys, it’ll just bite her back.”

He stares blankly at you, but his mind is somewhere else. This goes on for a few more seconds before he nods his head as if he just agreed to the conversation he had in his mind.

“Ah…I get it now.”

“Get what?”

“Your boss is technically punishing us.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yea, by taking you away.”

…Really?

“Ugh, that bitch, because of her we can’t go on our date.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone there, Minho. I’m on temporary leave, not fired. But if you keep calling her names, I’m seriously going to lose my job.”

“What? Don’t deny the truth.”

You can’t believe he called her that with such anguish. It almost makes you laugh, turning this situation more light-hearted. Plus, his priorities are definitely not in the same playing field as the rest of the members.

“And you’re upset about the date? I thought we were just kidding about that.”

Again, he stares at you with his wide, blank eyes, then he shakes his head. “No. I was being serious. Why would I joke around about that?”

Your smile fades, then your cheeks become red. You don’t know how he can remain calm by saying such bold claims. “Minho…stop saying stuff like that or else we’ll get into more trouble.”

He sighs. “I was so excited about this date too, and I don’t want to wait any longer than I should.”

You’re flattered that he wants to go on this date with you, but you actually weren’t intending for him to mean it. However, you can’t bear to break his heart any more than you should, so regardless if he’s joking or not, it’s best to cheer him up.

“Alright, think about it this way: once the rumors died down and I come back, then we’ll plan out this…’date’.”

Light returns in his eyes, and he smiles from ear-to-eat. He gasps subtly, unable to contain that thrill in him, already thinking of places to take you.

“Okay, okay, but wait at least. Give or take a few weeks, then we’ll see each other again, alright? For now, take care, and please take care of the other members too.”

“…Alright.” Minho spreads his arms wide, wanting a hug. As much as you want to hug him, you don’t dare repeat the same mistake. For all you know, there’s probably an employee watching you two.

Wait until everybody forgot, you convince yourself.

You hate that you’re doing this, but you walk around Minho, pressing on the elevator ‘up’ arrow. The door rings open, and you enter. “I-I’ll see you soon, Minho! Good luck on the comeback!”

You keep waving until the door closes, and the last thing you see is his unpredictable, hollow gaze. You don’t know what he’s thinking, but for all you know, you probably upset him for ignoring his hug. You bang your head on the wall, sighing heavily.

“They’ll be alright…right…?”

==========

Hello, this is JYP,

Firstly, we sincerely apologize to STAYs who have been left with confusion these past few days. With the bottom of their hearts, Stray Kids love and appreciate each and every STAY and would like to clear the dating rumor between Lee Know and the woman in the photo. It is confirmed that the idol and the woman are not dating.

The woman has officially been identified as a JYP employee and would like to remain anonymous. She has violated one of the rules and endangered the idol by sneaking him out late at night, so she has been put on temporary leave. Once again, we would like to apologize for a late response. Please look forward to Stray Kids’ comeback as they worked endlessly for you STAYs.

…Even though you know that this isn’t intended to offend you and to just divert the fans’ attention away, but it still felt like a direct attack toward you. Already from Naver, you’re getting immense backlash. Many of the fans are criticizing you for exposing Minho to danger, then there are others who are outright calling you insulting names.

However, you don’t blame them. The notice itself is vague, and it painted you as somewhat of a villain. It isn’t like you can reveal yourself and beg them to understand your side of the story; it’ll just make the situation worst by revealing your face.

You lean back on your living room couch, tossing your phone to the side. In your one-bedroom apartment, the curtains are blocking every possible opening. You’re afraid that an obsessed fan or netizen is going to take a picture of you through your balcony sliding door or from a window.

It’s been a full week since you last had contact with the guys, and it’s getting lonely. You’ve dedicated most of your time with them that you never really had the chance to make friends. Since you’ve been separated from the boys, you never realized how much of a pitiful life you’re living. You don’t even have a pet to keep you company.

But on the bright side, the release of their new music video went smoothly. They’ve been receiving praise for it, which is a definite plus in the right direction. Fans should be focusing on this, not some half-assed apology that some faceless employee wrote. They became fans for the members, not for the drama.

“I wonder how they’re doing…”

You shouldn’t worry too much. They’re all grown men who live together, and they haven’t burned down their dorm yet, so that’s a good sign that they’re doing fine. Despite that, you still miss hanging out with them.

You sit up straight with a new determination in your eyes. Even if you’re not physically there for them, it’s still your duty as their manager to take care of them. For all you know, they’re probably starving themselves. Luckily, their current manager sent you their location in case there’s an emergency. You search up the name of their favorite fried chicken place, download their app, then placed an order.

Once that’s over with, there’s an option to add extra customer notes. You do have something in mind, but you feel bad for whoever is going to have to do it. You decide to go along with it and pay more in tips. When you’re done, you send a text message to the temp manager to give him a heads up.

==========

The nine boys return from the backstage and back to their private space. They take off their coats, using handheld fans to cool their faces down. The staff members are putting cooling packs on their faces. They rest silently, none of them saying a word as their temp manager is nonchalantly playing on his phone. The boys stare at him, somewhat waiting for him to say words of encouragement. However, he simply continues playing games, tapping aggressively on his screen.

Even though they assured you that they’ll be fine on their own, but they didn’t specifically say that they’ll be alright in the long run. With each passing day, their spirit falters more and more. Although they’re always encouraging each other, it doesn’t feel the same when you’re not there to give them a pep talk.

“I’m so bored.” Hyunjin says to end the silence.

“It’s too quiet…” Seungmin adds.

“My mental energy is deteriorating…I need something refreshing.” Jisung continues.

“Something…sweet…and nice…and bubbly,” Changbin lists. “…And has pretty eyes…contagious smile…and positive attitude…and very good at managing us.”

“Shh! Don’t say stuff like that.” Chan elbows Changbin, flicking his chin to point at their temp manager.

“Ow! What?? I’m just being honest!! It’s not like he’s gonna hear us. He’s blasting the hell outta his video game!”

And he’s right. The manager has his earphones plugged in, so into his game.

“Still. Be careful with what you say.”

“…I miss (Y/N).” Felix bluntly states.

Chan tries to think of something, but he can’t help but agree with him as well. Everyone here misses you. One of your traits that they took for granted is your gentle nature. No matter how dark things get, you always turn it around into a positive light. Even though criticism is always welcomed, it doesn’t hurt to hear your praise every so often.

But out of the nine members, there’s one who’s taking it the hardest. Minho is sitting on the floor over a blanket, watching a video on his phone. Jisung lays down next to him and looks over to see what he’s watching.

“Hey, hey, whadda you watchin’?”

In the video, Minho is the one holding the phone, and he’s recording a video of his cats playing in his parents’ home. His voice can be heard cooing at his three pets as they claw at their new toy. Within seconds, Jisung is already bored and was about to leave before he hears a second voice in the video.

“Soongie, come here!” Your legs entire from the right side of the screen, getting on your knees and crouching over to get his cat’s attention.

You spread your arms out for her to run in, and Soongie stares at you suspiciously before slowly approaching you. She rests in your lap, and you hug her.

“You’re getting bigger. Minho better be raising you right.”

“Of course, I’m her owner, after all.”

You laugh. “That’s the problem.”

Jisung is able to quickly see the date that the video was recorded, and it was before their debut. Judging by the hairstyle you have in the video, it was taken right before the filming of Hellavator.

Minho pauses the video, staring at a freeze-frame of you smiling at the camera. Jisung gives him a concerned look, raising an eyebrow at his sanity. He then zooms in to your face, gazing at it a few seconds longer.

Unable to handle it any longer, Jisung hits him on the arm. “Hyung, what are you, a creep?”

He stares at him with his emotionless eyes. “No.”

After responding to that rhetorical question, Minho stakes a screenshot of your face—ten times. He presses the home button on his phone, exposing his home wallpaper to be a close-up of your face.

“What in the…”

Despite the rule of erasing any connections that leads back to you, Minho isn’t making it subtle in the slightest. Minho stands up and walks to the counter where it’s filled with snacks and drinks. He picks up a can of soda, flicking it open and the carbonation fizzling into the air.

Jisung follows him, his jaw still hanging open. “Hyung…are you okay?”

“Mm, I am,” he takes a sip then picks up a piece of fruit and shows it to him. “Han, did you know that this is (Y/N)’s favorite fruit?”

“Hyung, can you at least not mention her name?? For all we know, there could be people listening.”

Minho gazes at the soda. “Doesn’t this drink look like her too?”

Jisung slumps his shoulders. “…I think you need help.”

“Why? I’m fine.”

But that response doesn’t do much to convince Jisung. “We all miss her too, but you can’t just keep waving your phone around in public. It’s just going to incriminate her more.”

“You know, I didn’t even get to hug her before she left.”

“Are you even listening to me?!” He sighs. “Sometimes I wonder if your brain is complicated or you’re just single-minded.”

Minho gazes at the soda like it’s his long lost soulmate, rotating it around to see its every beauty.

“Did you guys order chicken?” A staff member enters the private sector.

The members look at each other, giving each other puzzled looks. The temp manager flicks his eyes at the deliverer then sets his phone down. “Here.”

He gets up and takes the boxes of chicken. The boys can already smell the greasy, fried smell of the oil oozing from the containers. The manager sets it down on the counter, displaying the content one by one.

They circle around the food, Woojin opening it first and the brightest smile appears on his face. “Chicken!!”

“Whoa! Did you buy this, Manager??”

The temp manager shakes his head.

“Look, there’s a note.” Seungmin takes out a piece of folded paper.

He unfolds it, and while the handwriting is unfamiliar, the letter is recognizable.

Good job on the performance tonight, guys! Don’t stress yourselves out too much and use every chance to take a break. Make sure to eat a lot and please, please treat the manager kindly.

Even though it’s anonymous, it’s obvious who sent the fried chicken here. Even though it’s you, you made a special request for the chicken place to write a note.

“Managerrrrrrrrrrr…” Hyunjin drags the last syllable of your name, almost shedding a tear.

“Ah…I read that in her voice.” Jisung sniffs exaggeratedly.

The boys pass out the wooden chopsticks, each of them taking a piece and eating it. Each and every member savors the snack, appreciating your gift. Even when you’re not there, you’re still caring for them.

“Minho, are you gonna eat?” Chan turns to him.

But instead of answering, he glares at the box of chicken. Once again, no one knows what he’s thinking.

“…Minho?”

He takes his phone out from his pocket, scrolling through his contacts. Chan leans over to peek at his screen, and to his horror, he’s trying to call you.

“Minho?! What are you doing?!”

“Calling her.”

“Why??”

“Because I want to.”

“You can’t!”

He reaches out to swipe the phone out of his hand. But Minho moves back, pulling his phone away from Chan’s grasp. Minho nearly falls down as he avoids Chan’s hand. In the midst of their fight, his thumb accidentally presses on the ‘call’ button.

“Hang it up right now!”

“No.” He runs away from Chan.

They run in circles while the younger members plus Woojin are staring at their fiasco. Their temp manager doesn’t even bat an eye, piling his plastic plate with as many fried chickens that it can bear to hold.

“Are you trying to get her in trouble??”

“It’s just for a second.”

But this comes to a quick end when the ringing ends, which meant that you deliberately declined his call. Minho freezes on the spot, causing Chan to run into him. They both fall to the ground, his cheek hitting his phone.

“What the hell, Minho?!”

“She…turned down my call.”

“What?”

“She turned it down…” He repeats but in a more sullen tone.

Chan gets up, helping Minho up as well. After getting a good look at his heart-broken face, he’s no longer angry at him and instead, pities him.

“She…didn’t want to answer my call. She doesn’t want to talk to me,” he continues his muttering.

“Hey, hey, chill,” Chan pats him on the back. “She’s most likely following the rules and doesn’t want us to get into trouble again. I’m sure it isn’t because of what you think.”

Despite the comfort, his words go in from one ear and out the other.

==========

“What did I do, what did I do, what did I do…??” You ramble to yourself.

You didn’t mean to decline his call. You panicked, wanting to pick it up, but in the back of your head, you could hear your boss’s haunting voice threatening to fire you. In a split second, you tapped that red, glowing decline button.

While you thought that it was going to make you relieved, you’re now overwhelmed with guilt. You know full well that before you left, Minho made it clear that he was upset with your boss’s decision. Although you aren’t entirely sure why he would call you, it might’ve been important, so it only makes you feel all the more guilty.

“They…they have their manager…they should be okay,” you try convincing yourself. “It’s only for a little longer.”

==========

A few more days go by, and still no updates regarding you. No one has any idea what you’re doing, and they’ve been doing nothing but going to one performance after another. Every so often, they would go on a variety show, but then they would go back to performing again.

In the middle of their hectic schedule, they have a chance to take a break, but the boys settled with staying in their practice room to see if they can improve on their choreography. As their promotion is hitting home-stretch, their exhaustion is creeping up on them. It’s times like these when they become the most sensitive—the littlest thing triggering them into a tantrum or breakdown into tears.

And while the boys’ energy is being tested, Minho is the one who’s struggling the most. Every time they have an ounce of a break, he would dart straight to his phone, praying that he’ll see a call or text from you. But to his disappointment, it’s the opposite.

Minho rarely expresses distraught, so when it comes to times like this, they don’t know what to say or do to make him feel any better. The only remedy they could think of is bringing you back, but they don’t want to risk the factor of getting you fired or starting rumors.

“Okay, take ten.” Chan dismisses them.

Just as predicted, Minho glides across the room and to the counter where his phone resides. He turns it on only to slump his shoulders when there’s no notifications from you.

Jeongin and Seungmin watch from afar as they pity him. They’ve never seen him so depressed before. It’s so bad to the extent that they feel bad whenever they’re feeling cheery while he’s suffering.

“It’s like watching a monkey in a cage reaching for a banana that’s too far. So sad.” Seungmin states.

“Do you think we should ask our temp manager if he can put her on the phone? It’s hard watching Hyung in this state.”

“And risk her getting in trouble? You never know what stalkers are up to these days, hacking into our information.”

“Right…” Jeongin trails off. “But…why is Hyung like this? We want her back too, especially since our current…‘manager’…isn’t the best.”

Jeongin and Seungmin look at the corner, where their temp manager is sitting on a chair, completely out cold and snoring. On his stomach are crumbs of snacks that he didn’t bother sharing with the rest of the boys. His phone is on his stomach too, his game still on.

“Do you really think…Hyung and (Y/N) are…dating?” Jeongin brings up. “I mean, it has to be really serious for (Y/N) to leave us.”

“Hey, hey, don’t be crazy,” Jisung stands in between them, wrapping his arms around the two youngest members. “(Y/N) would never go for anyone like Minho-hyung, I think. Sure, he’s got the looks, but (Y/N) is wayyy out of his league. She should go for someone else…like me!” He points his thumb to himself with a bright smile.

However, neither of the two boys laughs. Jisung’s grin disappears, playfully punching Jeongin and Seungmin.

“No one will ever go for you, Hyung!” Jeongin teases.

“What?? Do you want to have a talk after this??”

“AHHHHHHH!!!!!”

This sudden scream nearly gives Jisung a heart attack. Without thinking, he jumps onto Jeongin, holding onto him so tightly that he can’t breathe.

“Wh-wh-wh-what was that?!”

The source of the shout came from none other than Minho. And just like that, he returns to playing with his phone. At an absolute loss from this out-of-sorts behavior, the boys stare at Minho, waiting for him to explain his outburst. Even the temp manager woke up from his nap and was startled by him.

“Min…ho…?” Chan calls his name questioningly.

He looks up with innocent eyes. “‘Sup.”

“Do…you need to have a talk?”

“No. I’m perfectly fine,” he laughs like an insane person.

“…Let’s have a chat.”

=========

On the third floor patio of the building, Chan and Minho are leaning over the ledge, drinking cold water bottles. The sun is setting over the horizon decorated with Seoul’s city skyscrapers. The sky is baby blue but fades into a burning orange as it reaches the land. Among the two men, the sounds of city noise wrap around them, the honking and car motors growling coming from cars.

But none of that matters, at least to Minho. He could care less about the city’s serenity. If he could switch the city to see you under the sunset, then he would’ve done it in an instant. And that’s the issue that Chan has with him.

“I think it’s better to cut to the chase, but you need to snap out of it.”

“Snap out of what?”

Chan sighs. “Get your head out of the clouds and get back to work! I swear, you need to stop acting like child begging for his mother. You’re a grown adult.”

His bluntness makes Minho return to reality. Even though Minho hardly said a word about what’s bothering him, it’s very obvious what the source of it is.

“Do you want to see (Y/N)?”

Mentioning your name catches his attention, darting his eyes to him. With how fast he moved, Chan jolts.

“Is she here??”

“What?? No! Maybe? Probably? I dunno. Look, I’m not bringing her up because she’s here, but there’s something that’s obviously bothering you more than you missing her, isn’t there?”

Minho doesn’t answer, so Chan isn’t sure if he hit the nail or not.

“Wuagh!!!” he shouts without warning, startling Chan. “Who gave that lady the right to boss her around like that?!”

Presumably by ‘lady’, Minho is referring to your boss, Eunha.

“Her boss treats her like shit because she just hates her!! This is why she’s forcing (Y/N) not to talk to us! This is a punishment for her, but why does it feel like I’m suffering the most?!” He slams his head against the rails, groaning like he’s in pain.

“…Did you guys end on a bad note before the separation?”

“…I was the one who told her that it’d be okay to go, it’s obviously my fault, but she took the blame. She did, not me. Then she ignores my call. She’s mad at me for getting her in trouble for what I did.”

“…Ohhh…I get it. Then why don’t you just clarify it with her?”

“…Clarify?”

He nods. “I mean, yea. It’s all mental barriers. When you think about it, there aren’t actually any limits. Just go talk to her, who’s stopping you?”

“…You’re right.”

“Yea, if you feel guilty, then stand your ground and let her know straight up.”

“Thanks, Hyung. I needed the encouragement. Instead of wailing like a baby, I should do something. This is my life, so I’m not going to let what others tell me what to do!” He chugs the water bottle until it’s empty. “Maybe she didn’t intentionally decline my call! I’ll confront her and ask her straight-up!”

“…What?”

With this newfound confidence, Minho crushes the plastic bottle and throws it in the recycling bin. He wipes his lips, marching back inside.

“W-wait…where are you going?”

“I’m gonna go talk to (Y/N).”

“Oh, ok—WHAT?!”

Before he knows it, Minho has already ran off.

“That’s not what I was talking about! I was saying that you should talk to (Y/N)’s boss, not (Y/N) herself!!!” Chan chases after him.

==========

Since you’ve been working at home, you feel like you’ll go insane if you’re holed up any longer. Earlier in the day, you went out for a quick walk around the park, spending most of the time sitting on the bench and enjoying the fresh air. It felt weird relaxing since you’re always working. You even forgot how it was like to take a break, so it was nice to take some time for yourself.

You wonder how the boys are doing, hopefully not overworking themselves as usual. You would text the current manager and ask him about them, but he would always reply with a ‘they’re fine’. The vagueness of it doesn’t soothe your distress. However, there’s not much you can do about it, so you have to trust his words.

You sigh. Perhaps you’ve become a workaholic—so much so that that’s all you ever think about. You even feel a little anxious if you’re relaxing a bit too much. Not only that, but ignoring Minho’s call also took a small toll on you. You pray that he knew that it was a misunderstanding. If he doesn’t, then when you get back to work, you’ll explain everything to him.

“I wonder how he’s doing.”

Then out of the blue, you hear fast-paced footsteps coming from behind. Curious, you turn around, and for a second, you thought that your eyes were playing tricks on you. Running toward you is none other than Minho himself.

“M-Minho?!”

He brakes, stopping inches away from you. You raise your arms up to protect yourself in case he runs into you, but luckily he didn’t. Without warning, he puts both of his hands on your shoulders, staring at you with his wide eyes as if making sure that it’s really you.

Feeling insecure, you avert your eyes. “Wh-wh-what are you doing here?”

Then he twirls his head around, checking his surroundings like he’s being chased. “No time to explain. Come with me.”

Without warning, he carries you over his shoulder. “O-oh my god…!!! Minho!!! Put me down!!” You kick your feet and flail your arms, but when he nearly drops you, you hold onto him. “W-wait, don’t drop me though!!”

“Sorry. Let’s go.” He runs off, still hanging over his shoulder.

==========

In a more desolated section of the neighborhood, Minho finally puts you down. He leans on the wall of a building, finding difficulty catching his breath. He slides down against the wall, hitting the back of his head on it.

You get down on your knees, scooting closer to him. “What are you doing here? You’re sweating enough to make a lake.”

“My legs…so sore.”

“You’re in your exercise clothes too. Did you just get out of practice today??”

His face turns red, heating up like a robot’s exhausted engine. You brush his bangs away so you can place the back of your hand on his forehead. His sweat rubs off on your knuckles, and while his face is red, his temperature is normal.

“Thank god you’re okay. Do you need water?”

But rather than responding to you, he takes ahold of your hand. You flinch, but you don’t jerk your hand away, unsure of what he’s going to do next. He closes his eyes, moving your hand to his cheek. Your heart skips a beat, but you’re so taken aback that you’re frozen. You can feel his sweat being wiped with your hand, making you conscious that you’re making his face dirty but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Why did you decline my call?” He asks bluntly.

His question throws you off, muddled with what you want to say. You two haven’t seen each other in weeks, and this is the first thing he says to you? Then again, this would’ve been the first that came to mind too when you reunite with him.

“I-I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t thinking and accidentally rejected.”

“…So you don’t hate me?”

“What? Why would I hate you?” You laugh. “Where is this coming from?”

“Oh, good,” he keeps rubbing your hand against his cheek. “I just wanted to ask you that.”

“…That’s it?”

“Yea.”

“…Really?”

“Yup.”

You stare at him blankly, then burst into laughter. “You’re so weird. You come here out of breath and sweaty just for you to ask me that?”

Even though you’re the one who’s giddy, he doesn’t have an ounce of laughter. He isn’t letting go of your hand.

“It’s not funny.”

His dead tone makes your laugh disappear. For a second, your heart dropped at the fear that you angered him for fooling around.

“I thought you were angry at me for not taking responsibility and didn’t want to talk to me anymore.”

“Responsibility…? For what? …Oh.”

Not once did you think that he was to blame. Of course, he was the one who gave you the idea to go to the convenience store, but you weren’t expecting this to haunt Minho. It’s almost adorable about how guilty he feels.

“I would never hate you or any of the members,” You crouch next to him, leaning on the wall with him. “If I did, then I would’ve quit a long time ago. I’m sorry for not picking up your call, but you can’t be calling me when we have to keep our friendship hidden until the coast is clear.”

Again, his disappointed look doesn’t go away. You contemplate about what to say next, but nothing comes to mind. With his unreadable expressions, it’s like tiptoeing through a field of mines.

“Why can’t I be happy without worrying about what others think of me?”

His fingers intertwine with yours.

“Why am I criticized for wanting to be with you?”

Suddenly, he kisses the back of your hand. Your eyes widen, in utter shock with what he’s done, but your mind is in shambles with how to interpret the kiss. While you’re still processing the flirtatious move, Minho takes this opportunity to make a move on you. He leans over, and you lean back. He keeps drawing closer and closer until you nearly fall down.

“W-what are you doing?”

“It felt like years since I last saw you. It was seriously hell…”

“Minho, language…”

“It felt like forever, but it was only weeks. I thought re-watching videos and keeping two hundred pictures of you would make it better, but no. It did nothing.”

“…Excuse me…?” You thought you heard him wrong, but two hundred?

“It made me wonder why I thought like that. And I think I know why…”

He lets go of your hand, wrapping his arm around you, pressing his face against your collarbone. With his weight on your shoulders, you fall on your bottom. His hot breath lays on your skin, making your skin tickle a bit.

“Hey…are you feeling well?”

“No. Not at all. Not even a little. I’m suffering so much that I could die.”

“Isn’t that a bit of an exaggeration…”

“No it’s not. How dare you belittle my feelings like that?” He sulks.

The two of you are on the ground, ignoring the germs of the sidewalk and focusing on each other. His cheeks have become red, completely infatuated with you. All he sees in his eyes is you, and all he wants is you.

You snicker.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re acting like a clingy child. It’s kind of adorable.”

Although ‘adorable’ was meant as a compliment, he took it as an insult. It made him think that you don’t see him as a man but as a baby brother. He’s not masculine, but an immature boy.

A little annoyed, he decides to prove to you the opposite. Out of the blue, he pins you against the wall. He corners you with his hands, his broad body hovering over you so that you can’t escape. Your smile is gone and your heart nearly stops beating.

“M-M-M-Minho?!”

He cups your chin, raising it up and forcing you to look at him in the eyes.

“Wh-what are you doing?!”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

You push him away gently, but he refuses to move. “P-p-people might be watching…”

“Then let them look. Let the entire world be exposed to us.”

He leans over, closing his eyes and puckering his lips. Although you’re a nervous wreck, a part of you feels an odd excitement for this—like you’re doing something scandalous, but it’s thrilling at the same time. Because the media rejects you as Minho’s friend and demands that you’re nothing more than a manager, it kind of hurts you too knowing that you don’t have the freedom to choose. Due to the rejection, you had no choice but to be separated from him and the rest of the boys.

You squeeze your eyes shut, being able to feel Minho’s body heat. He’s so close to your face that you can feel his breathing—you can even smell his natural scent. You’re so nervous that you can’t hear anything else other than your racing heart that runs faster than a speeding car.

“MINHO!”

Suddenly, Minho is pulled away from you. You open your eyes and is shocked to see Chan lifting Minho up by the shirt.

“(Y/N), are you okay?? Did he hurt you??”

You’re too surprised to say anything, so you shake your head.

“Minho, if you actually hurt her then I’ll report you—”

“I’m okay, really!”

“Don’t lie to protect his butt.”

“No, no, no, it’s fine. It’s not what it seems.”

“It’s exactly what you think,” Minho interrupts. “I did what you suggested I should do, Hyung. I confronted my problem.”

You turn your head to Chan, raising an eyebrow. “What?!”

“N-not like that! He’s twisting my words.”

Minho grins like he just had a load of weight off his shoulders. You feel like you were being played, but the emotions that he was conveying before Chan’s intervention was definitely not a joke, especially with what he was about to do just seconds earlier.

“Great…” Chan sighs. “Right when the rumors were just fading, who knows what’ll happen now.”

You don’t know either. You turn to him, and he looks a little gloomy when Chan brought up the issue about rumors again. You don’t even know if anybody spotted you and him. But when you think about it, you remember what Minho said.

“Rumors don’t really matter. If people don’t like him for doing what he wants, then they’re more than welcome to ignore it.” You look over at Minho.

For once, he actually has a change of expression, looking rather surprised. You smile, making his cheeks turn red. Chan looks at you, then at Minho, then back at you, confused.

“Then, can I kiss yo—”

“Doing things to people with their consent, of course,” you bluntly state. “But I can promise you that I’ll never quit being your manager, even if my boss fires me. You can guarantee that. Then maybe…” your cheeks slowly turn red. “…We’ll finally go on the date that we promised. I-if that makes you happy…”

You’ve never seen him so genuinely happy. That beaming smile on his eye—so wide that his eyes become crescents. His endearing giggle seeping through his teeth, making your chest become fuzzy inside. Perhaps, it wasn’t so bad that the netizens caught you two together, and now, you don’t mind if they caught you two again.

“I don’t know what happened…but okay…if you say so.” Chan lets go of Minho.

Now off the grasp of Chan, he dashes toward you, hugging you so tight that you can’t breathe. He rubs his cheek against yours, unable to stop his giggling.

“That means that we can date.”

“Date?!!” You blurt.

“Okay, that’s going overboard.”

Chan carries Minho, pulling him away from you.

“Let me go! Manager said that I can do whatever I want.”

“(Y/N), sorry for disrupting your day, but it was nice seeing you. We’re really excited to work with you again.” Chan hurriedly runs off while carrying Minho away.

And just like that, Minho and Chan disappeared as fast as they appeared. You’re absolutely confused with what just happened, but despite the confusion, you’re still flustered with what Minho did. You keep thinking about how he kissed your hand and then nearly kissed you.

You cup both your cheeks, crouching down and hiding your face. Minho is definitely unpredictable, but that’s a quirk that you find charming. You can’t wait to go back to work and see him again.

[End]

A/N: Thank you for reading this! This felt really rushed, so I hope this made any sense. :\ Anyways, thanks for spending some time to read this and have a good day! :)

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #lee know scenarios #lee know imagines #lee know #lee know x reader #lee minho #fluff #stray kids fluff #skz #kpop fluff #kpop #stray kids

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userarchive · 5 years ago

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Unexpected Circumstances Ch 9

Warnings: Language, talk of SVU job, SMUT

The squad was gathered around the white board in the bull pen, Olivia obviously letting you take the lead. You had headshots of Alejandro, his brother and yourself on the board, branching off to various smaller ones of drug dealers, arms dealers and women who you regularly worked with. The ones you knew either weren’t at the last bust, or had gotten out/dealt out with smaller misdemeanours. There was a smaller list to the side with pimps who Alejandro fraternized with and often had bring their girls to parties, a lot of which ended up being the underage ones that you were targeting to get out of sex trafficking.

“We’ll host a couple of smaller parties over the next few weeks, make it known that we’re back out there. New Years Eve is going to be the big one, it always was and always will be, people are already out to party and make bad decisions. We keep people positioned in nearby clubs, bars and private parties enticing more guests to us. I want Kat under as a madam with only two UC girls with her, I’ll fill the rest of her team myself so it doesn’t look suspicious that her girls don’t want to play. Fin, I want you there as a guest, you’ve worked narcotics, it’ll help.” You turned so Benson was in your eye line, “You bust in when I give the cue, and only when I give the cue, not a second sooner, I don’t care what you see or hear. I don’t care if there’s a gun pulled, we have our own security team on big nights like this.”

“I’m not sure if I’m com—“ You cut her off, not really caring that she was your Captain at the moment.

“I know what I’m talking about Captain, and if you want to actually catch as many of the scumbags that attend these things, you’ll wait for my go. If you bust in at the wrong time, or the wrong day and screw everything up I’ll be stuck back under for God knows how long.” You rotated to speak mainly to Sonny, “You should be ready for one hell of a battle, I’d call a second chair if I were you, but you better be damn well sure it’s someone you know and can trust.”

“Lotta big names?” He replied, knowing just how serious you were.

“The last time there was a ring this big being investigated Captain Cragen ended up with a dead hooker in his bed. I’d suggest you all watch your backs, and keep a clear mind on who ends up arrested, or the names that come up in investigation. You might have friends that were regular party attendees some of them are absolute garbage human beings, no matter what you think of them now, don’t let that cloud your judgement, let the ones who were there give their statements. There’s also a lotta brass at these parties, higher ups, people you definitely wouldn’t expect, about half are committing crimes, the other ones simply come to socialize. They don’t have anyone to go home to so they come find solace with us.” You shrugged, gesturing in a ‘whatever works’ motion.

“How much of this do you have documented?” Carisi asked, knowing that you’d always been very detail oriented when it came to your paperwork.

“All of it..And it’s far more than circumstantial. There’s a reason I offered to do the books for Alejandro.”

***

After the brief was done with the squad, the paperwork filed with Benson, she decided to send you home early, much to the joy of you and Sonny. You spent the afternoon entangled with each other on the couch, Sonny’s hands never once leaving you, weaving through your hair, lips meeting your skin at small intervals as you soaked up each others love for as long as you could.

You joined him in the kitchen, jumping up onto the island while he made your favourite dinner, taking little moments to share nibbles of food with you, or press soft kisses against your lips. You’d made sure to pick up a couple of bottles of his favourite wine that paired perfectly with the food. You hadn’t even bothered to move from the kitchen table after dinner, you simply curled up in his lap head leant back against his shoulder while you finished the wine. Sonny drained his wine glass, giving the side of your neck a series of soft kisses, murmuring against the shell of your ear.

“I wanna show ya how much I love you…”

“Sonny, you just made the best dinner, I know you love me.” He snickered at that, nipping at your earlobe.

“Doll, ya know what I mean.” You couldn’t help but smile, shifting in his lap so you were straddling his thighs.

“Oh I suppose I do…” You cupped his face in your hands, lips meeting his softly. They moved against each other with such a sense of intimacy, your arms wrapping around his neck while his tugged against your hips, pulling your flush against him. The kiss was deep, sensual, Sonny couldn’t get enough, tasting the wine on your tongue, but more importantly trying to savour the taste that was so distinctly you. You loved kissing him, you always had, and you knew you always would. His lips were just so fucking perfect, so soft, gentle when you wanted and merciless when you just needed him. You swore you could kiss him forever, there were many nights earlier in your relationship where all you did was kiss and some of those nights were even better than the mind blowing sex. He pulled away with the uttermost gentleness, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek, the look of complete infatuation and adoration in his eyes.

“I love you so much sweetheart.” You swelled, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I love you too Dominick.” The ribbons of warmth and love surrounded you, simply happy in each others arms, you could practically lose yourself in those ocean eyes. Hands trailing down his arms, you grasped his hand in yours, climbing off his lap. “I do believe you had something to show me?” You quirked a brow, adding the hint of lust back into the room, smiling at the sly grin on his face as he eagerly followed you to the bedroom.

Sonny kissed you again, this time with a slightly higher sense of urgency, lips moving with vigour against yours, groaning against your mouth. Your hands tugged at the hem of his shirt while you felt his glide under yours, relishing in the feeling of his fingers against your bare skin. The kiss broke long enough to tear the offending items of fabric off, Carisi was quick to make work of your bra, dropping it to the ever growing pile of clothes. His lips left yours to move down your neck, eliciting a shiver from you while your hands made work of his belt buckle. You swatted against his chest when you felt his teeth sink into your skin,

“No marks!”

“Sorry…” He murmured, returning his lips to yours as his hands cupped your breasts, pinching and rolling at the peaks, a sigh escaping you into his mouth.

You finally managed to get his pants undone, pushing them down along with his boxers, slowly dropping to your knees, you smirked up at him, hand wrapping around his cock. Sonny gasped at the feeling of your hand spreading his pre-cum around, giving him a couple of slow pumps. You mouth moved to his balls, sucking them into your mouth, moaning around them, eyes fluttering shut, you felt his cock twitch in your hand. Humming in appreciation, knowing he was enjoying this as much as you were you let them pop out of your mouth, your lips setting a gentle kiss on the head of his length. Sucking just the tip into your mouth, his hips jutted forward, a hand reaching out to cup your cheek, ever the gentle lover. You lowered your mouth, tongue dragging a broad strip from his base before you took him in, lowering as far as you could, hands bracing on. his thighs. Your tongue traced patterns around the sensitive skin while you pumped your mouth around him, hollowing your cheeks, a mix of saliva and pre cum swirling around your mouth and his cock. Sonny’s hips thrust forward, hitting the back of your throat, you let out a light gag, pulling off him to catch a breath.

“You okay Doll?” His soft eyes blown with lust but still concerned for you, you nodded, smiling up at him. He tugged on your hand, pulling you up to standing, “Pretty sure I’m supposed to be showing you how much I love ya though.” You giggled at that, meeting his lips in a tender yet carnal kiss as you collapsed down onto the bed. His lips dragged their way across your exposed skin, kissing and sucking at every inch he could, his teeth digging in to the underside of your tit quickly before he glanced up at you, “How ‘bout here?” He winked, already knowing the answer, simply wanting to leave his mark on you before he left. He was quick to bite and suck a burning mark into the tender flesh, his hands shoving at the waistband of your pants. He pulled them off you with ease, not able to wait before licking through your folds, moaning heavily at the taste of your juices.

Your hands flew to his hair, mussing up the perfectly gelled locks, hips grinding against his mouth while he continued his attack. His tongue darted out, lapping at the wetness oozing out of your pussy, murmuring about how fucking delicious you were, how much he fucking loved your cunt. He may have been the perfect little Catholic boy, but inside the bedroom he could be unbelievably dirty, and that dirty talk just edged you on, your walls clenching around nothing hearing the words topple from his mouth. The quickening pace of your moans notified him that you were already so close, despite barely being touched. You yelped when he sucked your clit into his gorgeous mouth at the same second he plunged two fingers into you, pumping quickly, your hand digging tightly against his hair. He moaned at the sting, the vibrations nearly throwing you over the edge, a whine of his name leaving your lips, it only took a few flicks of his tongue against your sensitive nub and his fingers grazing the spongey wall inside you for you to be shaking underneath him, cumming harder than you thought you could. Gently removing himself from you, a soft hand tickled its way up your side, curling against your cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly as his waited for you to stop panting.

“You still okay?” His voice was quiet but you could hear the desire in it, the lust begging eyes staring down at you, you chuckled, nodding once again.

“Roll over…” You husked, gently pushing him onto his back as you straddled his lap. Leaning down you kissed him gently, tugging his bottom lip between your lip before you sat up. Your hand reached behind you, grasping his cock, slowly pumping it before raising your hips, shuddering at the feeling of his head between your folds. Wanton moans leaving both your lips as you sunk down onto him, relishing in the feeling of his thickness filling you up so perfectly.

Bracing your hands on his abdomen you gave yourself a second, adjusting to his size and the sensation before slowly rolling your hips, gasping at the feel. His hands found your hips, gripping gently as you began to ride him, breathy moans breaking your lips, head lolling back. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your tits bounce, admiring the way that his cock slid into you so easily, your juices glistening around it. He dragged past your g-spot, causing your to clench around him, losing the control you had, collapsing against him, burying yourself into. his neck as you hips continued to pump. Sonny wrapped his arms tightly around you, bracing his feet on the bed to thrust up into you.

The entire experience was so sensual, so pleasuring, there was no doubt denying the love you held for each other. The little whispers and whimpers of each others names breathing through your lips, the sentiments of I love you’s shared in the moment of passion. You felt nothing but absolute desire and fondness, wanting nothing but the moment to last forever. You felt the coil about to burst within you, Sonny could feel your walls pulsating around him, it was a rare occurrence, but you ended up yelping out through your orgasms in nearly the same moment. You body shivering, burying yourself even deeper against him as his hips stilled against yours, you could feel the warmth of him spurting inside you, relishing in the feeling of it.

You laid a few lazy kisses along his neck, tasting the saltiness of the sweat while his hands lightly stroked down your back and into your hair, letting him soften inside you, holding onto the moments of intimacy. Eventually you pushed your body up, pulling off at him, the warm feeling of his release dribbling down your legs before you curled around him, a leg thrown between his, hand tracing patterns on his stoic chest. Sonny broke the silence after a few long minutes,

“D’ya have ta go in right away t’morrow?” You laid a gentle kiss to his chest.

“No… I’m gonna wait at least ’til after you go to work…Probably later afternoon..” You felt his lips on your hair.

“I’ll make ya breakfast.”

“Sonny..”You nearly let out a soft laugh, you knew this was hard for both of you, but considering how the op began originally, you weren’t surprised he was being overly affectionate. You settled for an easy response, “I love you..”

“I love you too…”

The calm quietness and relaxed breaths took over the room as the two of you fell into an easy sleep, blissed out and muddled in each others bodies, thankful for the time you had.

#law and order #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #Olivia benson #odafin tutuola #amanda rollins #sonny carisi #dominick sonny carisi #ada carisi #ada sonny carisi #ada dominick carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi smut #sonny carisi series #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi one shot #sonny carisi drabble #sonny carisi fanfcition

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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years ago

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Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 24

Word Count: 4226

POV: Tyler

Warnings: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Sorry this has taken so long to post, life just kind of got in the way. Also, it was a bit hard to concentrate today. I hope you all enjoy this and it at least makes you smile a little bit. Happy Reading! And if you read these notes at all go out there and hug the ones you love tonight. Sending all of you hugs!!

Since you’d asked (Y/N) to marry you, it seemed like you couldn’t stand to be away from her. Not that you didn’t have this feeling before, it just seemed to intensify now. So when you walked through the door of your house, there was almost a sense of relief that washed over, knowing that you’d get to have (Y/N) back in your arms. There was only one problem, you couldn’t seem to find your fiancé anywhere in the house. She wasn’t in the kitchen, your bedroom or any other room in your house. You even checked the outside to see if she was by the pool or out on the basketball court, though you couldn’t imagine her being out there by herself.

After about a fifteen-minute search, you gave up and decided to call her. “Hey, Ty. Did your plane land yet?”

“Babe, I’m home. I’ve been home for a while. Where are you at?”

“Huh? What time is it? Oh shit, sorry. I’m on my way home now. I guess I didn’t realize it was so late. I should be home in less than ten minutes.”

It was somewhat disappointing that she wasn’t here now. You’d gotten used to her being home ever since she quit her job. “Ok, but where are you?”

“Oh, I was at the mall doing some Christmas shopping. Do you know what you want to get your mom this year? I found some great things for Candace and Cassidy as well as my family, but I’m stumped for your mom.”

“Ummm. I hadn’t given it much thought.” You truly looked around at the house then, when you’d been searching for (Y/N) you hadn’t paid much attention to all the decorations around the house. The Christmas tree was up in the living room, lights twinkling and inviting, though you saw a box of ornaments that hadn’t been hung on it yet. In all your preparation for your proposal, you’d put the holiday season out of your mind. Thankfully (Y/N) hadn’t. “I’ll talk to my sisters and see if they have any ideas. By the way, the place looks great.”

“Thanks, but the decorator did most of it. I had her save some ornaments so that we could put them on together.”

“That sounds great babe. We can do that tonight.” You rummaged through the kitchen, looking for the cookies you knew she baked. “Baby, where did you put those sugar cookies?”

“Somewhere you can’t find them.” She laughed softly.

“That’s not funny (Y/N) you know that those are my favorite. I know you had to save me a couple out.” Opening the pantry door, you started moving around containers looking for the cookies (Y/N) had hidden.

“Tyler Seguin, if you mess up my pantry; I’m going to kick your ass.” It had taken (Y/N) a full week to organize the room to her liking. It had become a little game where you would move something out of place just to see if she noticed.

“Well, I wouldn’t have to mess anything up, if you’d just tell me where my cookies are.” The garage door opened and the pups rushed over to the mudroom door, to greet their mom.

“If you help me bring in these bags, I may give you one or two.” With that, she hung up the phone, and you rushed out to help her.

“Jesus woman, did you buy the whole mall.” She literally had the SUV stuffed full of bags and boxes. She was still getting out of the driver’s seat when you walked over and pulled her into your arms; your lips finding hers immediately. The last eight days had been hell not being able to touch her and feel her. Now that she was back in your arms, you didn’t want to let her go. You molded your mouth to hers and drank her in. Hands roaming down to her hips, you pressed her body into yours only to notice her bump stopped you short. You broke the kiss and looked down at her baby belly. “When did this happen?”

“Well duh, it’s been happening. Though I guess it just kind of popped out over the last couple of days.” It seemed as though you were missing everything on these long road trips, and while (Y/N)’s bump hadn’t grown that big, she finally looked pregnant. A huge grin broke out across your face as your hands roamed her tummy. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“What? I’m just happy. I love this. Do you know that?” She just shook her head at you. “I’m serious. You are so fucking sexy to me right now, you have no clue.”

“Oh stop!”

“It’s true (Y/N). And maybe if you don’t believe me, I’ll just have to show you right here.” You pushed her back up against the vehicle, your erection pressing against her so she knew how badly you wanted her; as you devoured her mouth again. Nibbling your way down her neck, you told her. “Can’t you feel how bad I want you, baby.” A moan escaped her, as you let your hands slide up her shirt and cup her sensitive breasts. Her head lulled back against the car as she gave herself over to you.

“Fuck Ty, I missed you so much.” Moving your thigh between her legs, you felt her grind down on you and your cock grew harder.

Her hands went to the waistband of your pants and she slipped the button free as she unzipped the flap. You stopped her from going further with your words. “Wait, babe, let’s go to the bedroom.”

“No.” She panted out as her hands reached inside your waistband to free your cock. “Here. Like this.” God, you loved this woman. Her words lit a fire inside you, and you pawed at her legging, stripping them off her in a frenzied pace.

“Wrap your leg around me.” She did as commanded and you thrust your cock inside her. Her pussy was warm and wet and felt absolutely delicious; so much so that you didn’t want to move at first. “God I missed you.”

“Please Ty.” (Y/N) pleaded with you and you rotated your hips into her. She whimpered in response, the sound going straight to your cock buried inside her. “Fuck, Ty, stop teasing me.” This time you flexed into her, your dick sliding deeper into her causing her to moan.

“You feel so good, baby.” You pulled halfway out, then thrust back into her, the two of you building a rhythm, and soon the garage was filled with moans of pleasure from you both. You nibbled on the exposed area of her neck, the spot that always drives her insane. You start pumping into (Y/N)’s pussy faster, and she shifts her leg, changing the angle you’re driving into her. Her legs start to tremble, and you gripped her hips to keep her upright, as her orgasm starts to hit her. She’s screaming out your name and with a few last thrusts, you’re following her. It takes a few minutes for you both to come down from the high you were just on; your forehead just resting on hers as you try to calm your breathing.

(Y/N) starts placing soft little kisses to your lips. “God I needed that Ty.”

“Mmm, me too baby.” Your cock starts to soften and you slide out of her slowly.

“What is it about this garage lately?” She giggles and suddenly, you feel your cock twitch back to life.

“I don’t know babe, but I guess we can say we’ve officially done it, in every room of this house.”

“Nope. We still haven’t done it in the nursery.” (Y/N) bent down to put her leggings back on, as you tucked yourself back into your boxer briefs.

“It just seems wrong to have sex in there.”

She raised an eyebrow at you. “It’s not like we’re doing it in there while the baby is sleeping or anything. The crib isn’t even in there yet.”

“So you’re saying you want to.” She shrugged her shoulder at you.

“Maybe. I mean if the mood hits and we’re in there.” You still weren’t sure how you felt about it, for some reason you considered it sacred ground. “But seeing as we’re in the garage now and this car isn’t going to unpack itself. We’ll save the nursery sex for another time. Now grab some of these bags will ya hun?”

You saluted her. “Aye, aye Captain.” Then went and grabbed half of the bags out of the SUV. She went to grab more than she should be carrying, and so you stopped her. “Babe, I’ll come back and get those.”

“I can carry some you know.” You gave her a look. “What do you think I do when you aren’t here?”

“Well, I’d hope these guys would help you.” All three dogs were surrounding you as you walked into the house from the garage. “Well, maybe not Gerry. He’d probably just make a bigger mess.” (Y/N) just rolled her eyes at you. “So these are all Christmas presents?”

“Yes. We have to buy for a lot of people.”

“Where do you want them?”

“Can you put them in the dining room? I have a wrapping station set up there.” There were a few rolls of paper, along with tape and scissors laying on the table. She had over a dozen packages wrapped in bowed in the corner. How you had missed all this, was beyond you. Heading back out to the garage you grabbed the rest of the packages before you joined (Y/N) in the kitchen, where she had a plate of cookies for you.

“And where did you find those?”

“I’ll never tell, but since you’ve been good; you can have a couple.” She pushed the plate over to you but grabbed a cookie for herself as well.

“Oh my god, these are delicious.”

“Thanks, babe.” She grabbed you both a glass of milk. “So, I was thinking.”

“Oh no, how much is this going to cost me.” She grabbed the plate of cookies back. “Hey!”

“With comments like that, you’re not getting any more of these.”

“Awe, come on babe, you know I was just kidding. So tell me what you were thinking about.” She slid the plate back to you, and you quickly snatched two this time before she could take them away again.

“Well, I thought that maybe you could call Jamie and I could call Jenna and we could all go out to dinner tonight. You know to try and hook them up.”

Your mouth was full, but you still answered her anyhow. “I think they’re already going to dinner tonight.”

Her head whipped back around to look at you. “What did you just say?”

“They’re already going out tonight. Jamie told me. I actually think he’s going to take her to the holiday skate tomorrow.”

“Why am I only hearing this now? And from you instead of Jenna? How do you know this?”

“Easy woman. They started getting close helping me plan your engagement. I think they went out a few times, basically under the premises to go over stuff for the party. But Jamie did tell me he’d called her a few times while we were away and asked her out to dinner tonight. I assume she said yes.”

“OOOO I’m so excited, but why hasn’t Jenna said anything to me?”

Grabbing one last cookie, you said. “I don’t know babe, she’s your best friend.”

“Well, I’ll just have to ask her tomorrow at the skate.”

“Mmm about that.” Grabbing the glass, you took a long swig of milk, before continuing. “I don’t think we should go.”

“What, why?”

“Well, I don’t really feel like going out there and skating by myself while you sit on the bench and all that. I cleared it with Monty, so we can just stay here.”

“Why do you think I’m going to be sitting on the bench? I have my skates all ready to go.”

She looked angry, like so angry she could spit nails at you; or worse. “Well, you can’t skate in your condition.”

“Yes, I can.”

Three words, that’s all she gave you; you waited for her to say more, but she remained silent. “Well, what if you fall.”

“I do know how to skate.” Her arms were folded across her chest and you’re pretty sure you could see steam coming off of her. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go to the holiday skate, you were just concerned for her and the baby’s welfare.

“Babe, I skate every day and I still fall.”

“You’re also flying down the ice, chasing a piece of rubber to put into a net.” Ouch! That comment hurt. “We’re not discussing this anymore, Tyler. I’m going with or without you.”

“Babe…can you just….” She started walking into the dining room, opening up the packages she bought.

“Ty, I said we’re done talking about it.”

You tried one more time. “But…”

“No buts. I’m going and I’m going to skate. End of story.” You sighed heavily. There was no sense in trying now, not when she was in this kind of mood, maybe later, when you had her in bed; she’d be more willing to listen.

“So whatcha doing then?”

“Wrapping presents, or am I not allowed to do that either?” Ok, now you really knew you were in trouble.

“Umm…I was just going to see if I could help you.” Maybe helping would get you out of the dog house with (Y/N). Picking up a roll of wrapping paper, you twirled it around resisting the urge to use it as a megaphone.

“Have you ever wrapped a gift in your life,” she scoffed.

“Of course I have.”

“Really? Because everything you’ve ever given me has either been in a gift bag or wrapped from the store.”

“It has not.” You started wracking your brain going over gifts that you bought her in the past. The necklace you just bought her was in a gift bag. “What about the Louis shoes?”

“In the box with a store bow on them.”

“What about that purse?” Even though you asked you were pretty sure you didn’t wrap that one.

“Nope, it was the same as the shoes.”

“Oh! I got it. I totally wrapped your jersey.” You could vividly remember going to the store and buying the wrapping paper.

“Nice try, but you had Cassidy wrap that one.”

“I did?” That part you didn’t remember at all.

“Yep, she told me she did it when you weren’t in the room. She said she came in when you were wrapping it and it was a disaster, so she volunteered to help you out.”

Damn, she was right. “Ummm…well, I can still try. I mean I can’t do the pretty bow thingy that you do, but I can try and wrap a box.” At this point, you’d do anything to make her smile at you. She handed you a box that said LOL dollhouse, it was a bit long but you thought you could handle it.

“That’s for Rylynn, she’ll get a kick out of it; if I tell her you wrapped it.” She put the finishing touches on her picture-perfect gift as if she was on some wrapping competition. Taking the box, you headed down to the opposite end of the dining room table to begin your wrap job. You watched her grab the next box in her pile, roll out the paper, then place the package on it to start wrapping. It didn’t seem that hard, so you did the same. Only the paper went rolling all the way down to her end.

“Oops, sorry.” It wouldn’t quite re-roll back onto the tube, so you just cut it and then pulled it over the top of the box. There was a lot of extra paper, what the hell were you going to do with it all? (Y/N) folded the paper all neat on the edges and then brought them up to tape them. Simple enough. Or maybe not, you tried doing the same, but the wrapping wouldn’t fold right. You finally felt like you had it ready to tape, but how were you supposed to get the tape? If you let go, the paper would go flying; so you placed your elbow on the box and reached for the tape with your free hand. There we go. You pulled the tape from the dispenser and about three feet came off. Your eyes went wide and you quickly looked to see if (Y/N) was watching. Thankfully she wasn’t.

There was no way to get rid of it, so you just stuck it on the box; then moved on to the other side. It ended up working out the same way as the other; only with a little less tape. Once you were done you turned the whole thing over and surveyed your work. It was bad, like really horrible. “So babe, how big can you make a bow?”

“I don’t know? Why….” She burst out laughing, at least she wasn’t mad anymore. “Ty, that is the worst wrap job I’ve ever seen.”

“It’s not that bad.” She raised her eyebrows and just laughed some more. God how you loved that sound. “Alright, maybe it is not the best. Can you fix it?”

“It may be beyond fixing, hun.”

“How are yours so perfect?” She truly had a knack for doing this. All the presents were going to look amazing under the tree, as long as you didn’t help.

“Years of practice.” She handed you another gift. “So start practicing.”

“But babe, look at this. It’s terrible. I think I should just leave the wrapping to you.”

She scrunched her nose up. “So I guess I’ll be wrapping all our child’s gifts.”

“Well I don’t think he or she will care when they’re super little, but they may start questioning things when they get older.” Leaning down, you grabbed the empty tube of paper and stuck the one end up to your ear and the other end on (Y/N)’s belly. “What’s that? Oh, right…I’ll tell mommy. HeShe says you’re a much better wrapper than me and wants you to do all their presents.”

This garnered you another laugh. “Well, then I guess you’re just going to have to be in charge of putting all the toys together.”

“Now see that, I can do. So how about we call it a day on wrapping and just go snuggle.” You went and enveloped your arms around her. “I’ve missed you.” You were pretty sure you were out of the dog house by now, but for extra measure, you started raining soft little kisses all over her neck.

“Well, I could use a break.” With that, you headed into the living room, cuddled up on the couch and threw on a movie. Things were perfect until the following day when (Y/N) grabbed her bag and was waiting for you to go to the arena for the family skate. “Ty, are you coming or am I going alone?”

“Babe, do you really think this is a good idea?”

“Ty, nothing is going to happen. Can we please just go?”

There was no point in fighting with her, you knew when she had her mindset, she wouldn’t be changing it anytime soon. At least if you were there, you’d make sure she wouldn’t fall. “Alright, let me grab a hat.” In no time you were at the arena, (Y/N) laughing and chatting with all the other players and their significant others. “Babe, want me to help you put your skates on.”

“Sure.” At least this way, you could be sure they were on properly. You laced her up and made sure the ties were double knotted so she wouldn’t trip over them. Then reached for her hands and helped her up off the bench. You made sure to hold on to her as she made her way to the ice.

“Here, let me go on first and I’ll help you until you get your footing.” You’d done the same for her last year, though she’d been more accepting then. Thankfully she didn’t argue with you, and as soon as she stepped on the ice, you wrapped your arm securely around her waist so she wouldn’t fall. The two of you were gliding around the arena and you saw a smile break out across her face. She looked so carefree, yet your heart was racing. What if she tripped, or someone knocked into her and she went into the boards? A million things were running through your head.

“Ty, you can let go now.”

“I like holding you like this.” While it was true, you also wanted to be sure nothing happened to her and this was the easiest way.

“Oh my god!” Her voice made you stop both of you, dead in your tracks. You felt her slightly wobble, and your arm tightened around her waist immediately. She seemed unphased as she said. “Look, there’s Jamie, and Jenna’s with him. Oh wow, they look so cute together.”

“Jesus (Y/N), you just scared the hell out of me. I thought you were going to fall.”

“Would you stop worrying and just enjoy this? Look everyone is laughing and having a good time.” Looking around the arena, you saw it through her eyes; all your friends laughing and smiling, most couples holding hands, some ladies even trying their hand at hockey. Everyone looked so carefree. “Let’s just have some fun.” Relaxing your grip on your fiancé, you decided that you could ease up a bit. “I promise not to let go of your hand if that will make you feel better.”

“I guess I can live with that.” You chuckled back at her.

“Good. Now let’s go skate over to Jamie and Jenna. I’m dying to know what’s going on.”

“Now who needs to relax. They just got out on the ice, let them have some fun on their own.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes at you, but you grabbed her other hand and started skating backward with her not too fast, yet it caught her off-guard and made her focus on you instead of your best friends.

“I suppose you’re right.” You glided her around in the face-off circle, several times until she threw her head back and started to laugh. She looked so beautiful, her cheeks a ruddy shade of red, a combination of the cold ice and your little one growing inside her. As you spun around, you pulled her closer to you, so that you could wrap your arms completely around her. Her hands locked behind your neck, and you bent your head to kiss her lips.

“Get a room you two.”

You looked over and saw Jamie and Jenna skating towards you. They were holding hands, something you were sure (Y/N) would take notice of. “Hey, we were keeping it PG.” You chirped back to your best friend.

“So Jenna and I were talking about having everyone over after this. Maybe order some pizzas or something. You guys interested in coming over?”

(Y/N) made a move to break out of your embrace, but you held tight to her, still somewhat reluctant to let her skate on her own. “We’d love to.” She answered your best friends. “Besides, Jenna and I need to catch up on a few things.” Jenna started to blush but then so did Jamie; which only caused you to laugh, which earned you an elbow to the ribs from your fiancé.

“Oof, hey that hurt.”

“Anyway, what time are you thinking?” (Y/N) said overtop of your whine.

“This is over an hour, so anytime after that.” Jenna chimed in.

“Great! We’ll be there.” (Y/N) told them.

“Ok well, we’re going to go spread the word. See you around the rink.” With that Jamie tugged Jenna’s hand and skated away.

(Y/N) twirled into your arms, shrieking quietly in your ear. “Eeekkk! They are so cute! I can’t believe they are having a party together; do you know what this means?”

God, you loved her enthusiasm, but she was jumping way ahead of the game here. “Alright matchmaker, cool your jets. They just started dating.” She rolled her eyes at you as if you were being the impractical one here. Just then you spotted the Bishop’s taking the ice. Ben’s newborn son strapped to him in some backpack type contraption in front of him. “Hey babe, check them out.” You pointed over to where they were taking the ice. “That’ll be us next year. We’re going to need to get one of those backpack thingies.”

“You mean a baby carrier or sling.”

“Well, sling doesn’t seem right, we're not going to be shooting our kid out of it, but yeah one of those carriers. Because I totally want to skate around with our kid.”

“But what if you fall? Or something happens?” Her voice was laced with sarcasm.

“Alright smarty, I see your point.” You placed your hands on her belly as you skated up behind her. “Now how about the three of us go enjoy this family skate.” (Y/N) nodded in agreement and the two of you set off enjoying the rest of the party.

#nervous regrets #tyler seguin #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #dallas stars #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars imagines #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

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anteroom-of-death · 5 years ago

Text

Life, For Dummies p9

a/n: a nice filler chapter. i woke up, edited this and now i must go back to bed. enjoy a cheeky bit of whatever the heck this is...

You woke up again, another confused morning. Not overall the biggest one yet, but you still laid there, half happy and yet, half sorting out everything. You smelled the coffee from the other room. His coffee was always such a comfort and beyond excellent. Never went stale or bitter either.

He really had you wrapped around his little finger, and what a way, via caffeine.

You stretched out in your bed and felt the collar shift around your neck slightly, and went to readjust it properly.

Closing your eyes and focusing on the now, you came to terms with all this slowly, the heat of the day slowly pouring in on your body and warming you up. You focused on feeling the rotations of the fan and the breeze on your bare midriff. You inhaled and held it for a few seconds before releasing it, as much as you were curious what terrible read that the Master was devouring and what the next logical step of this whole shebang was. But bed was good, bed was comfy, bed felt good with your nice duvet and fluffy pillows surrounding you. You felt lazy and a tad sore, so you let bed win out for a bit.

Once your loafing was done, you got out of bed and made a laborious moan and cracked your neck and sternum. You decided to prep slowly and let him wait a bit more. It was only right, waiting on one level, mini wait on another…

The coffee would be still piping hot.

You came out plain faced but a little tarty. He was lounging reading a book in what looked like an alien language, so no quippy remark this time from you. Maybe he planned it that way- he was tired of you ragging on his shitty taste in literature.You rolled your eyes and sat down to enjoy your coffee. “No fair- I can’t read alien scribbles.” You teased, lightly smacking him on the knee.

“It’s high old Gallifreyan. It’s a hidden erotic text from what construed as our dark ages.” He murmured, half lost in it. “Maybe teach me it, no fun if I can’t join in…” You teased, though erotica in the Master’s native tongue would be fun to read. Would allow more context on what made him.

You knew the amount of fanfiction you read probably shaped your subconscious in ways that you'd have to dig up Frued and have him work on you full time.

“That’s a thought…” He mused.

You nodded and went back to your mug. Your paranoia kept you waiting for the other shoe to drop. You placed your mug down and squinted hard at him reading. You rested your chin on the crook of your fingers and your arm on your thigh, tapping your thumb on the base of your throat in a half anxious way.

Eventually you sighed and motioned the book away from him, “So what’s the deal? What are we doing? All of this, are we leaving today or what?” You sort of pointed everywhere. You had a lot of questions. It was only fair that he didn’t leave you in an information lurch.

“I figured we’d laze around here today and work on moving you into the TARDIS again but I’d like to properly enjoy breaking you in again.” He winked.

You squinted again.

“You make out like I’m a pair of shoes you haven’t worn in a hot minute.” You did a light chortle. “That’ll inflate my self esteem.” You sarcastically added.

“Aren’t you?” He cooly retorted.

“Good one.” You wagged a finger at him. ‘You’re hilarious!”

“Oh, do I have to punish you?” The tone was lighthearted and jovial and yet it laid a real threat.

“Bring it on, Time Boy.” You pushed a little further. You grinned largely and stuck out your tongue.

He pulled you over suddenly and firmly by your ear and up towards your face. “Hmmm...looks like I do.” He was apoplectic yet smooth. “What should a brat like you get for questioning her Master?” He pulled you up over his knees and ripped down the shorts you had on. “So, I’m gonna spank you, but you have to count?” He stroked your ass gently with one of his hands while he supported your weight with the other by your neck.

“I’m thinking twenty?” You could hear a smirk from above you. You rolled your eyes, “How does that sound?” He stroked your ass again and grabbed a cheek with one hand, “Does that sound good, pet?” He let a finger linger on your cunt. You let out an anticipatory shiver. “Yes, Master.”

He paddled, you counted, after you reached twenty, you were doubting if you could sit after. You forgot how paddle-like his hands were. After twenty he massaged your ass and your clit, gently making sure he didn’t do any lasting damage. You still were irradiating heat and yet were gently brought to a gentle reward of an orgasm. He was a compassionate dictator, after all…

He brought you up and gently positioned you on his lap like a small doll. He pet your hair and kissed your jaw softly, gently moving up to your lips and nibbling softly, “Have you learned your lesson?” He breathed onto your lips.

You were intoxicated with the scent and woozy, “Yes, Master...I have.”

“Good.” Then he pressed his warm, supple lips against yours.

The day faded on lazily.

You got some boxes out of storage and started to move your precious items out into it to put back in your room in the TARDIS. It would be weird being back in there, you noted that you might have to change things up decor and interior design wise. You were fond of your tiny cottage and wanted to bring some of that into the hazy, crazy days of interdimensional space travel. You liked the slightly slow small town life you’d painstakingly made here.

You’d definitely try to enforce a policy of nights in front of a crackling fire in picturesque sights on occasion. Lazy nights in front of a fire with a nice drink were just the best luxury one could have.

Simple, yet relaxing.

You enjoyed a relaxing evening as much as you enjoyed everything else that the Universe could hold for you. Excitement and adventure had to be evened out with calm and relaxing. Both were good.

Emotions washed over you in waves. You really were in such a situation.

He was a good boy and made it up to you. You had to really give it to him for that. You found it ironic that he was the one in power yet you just applied the label “good boy” to him like he was a submissive or something. Maybe he was, but you were the one who kneeled here. That much was given. You were taken by him.

Oh, the minute yet twisted webs weaved.

You brought out the last of the boxes to the patio and screamed to the sky. How did you manage to accumulate such a crazy amount of stuff? Maybe Marx was right, something something consumerism fetish.

He peeked his head out of the TARDIS and gave you a quizzical deadpanned look.

“You summoned me?”

“How the fuck will I get this all in?” You panicked.

“Repeat after me ‘dimensionally transdimensional’, pet. It’s a whole other plane of existence in here. You know this.”

“Oh, right.” You knew, but sometimes it overwhelmed you and you rather would just kick a box. Which you decided to do. Maybe the Master was right, you were a brat… Oh well, you had a more pressing matter than your sore bum and the Masters hands milking you until you came.

You rolled your eyes at how eager you were to repeat the mistake of disobeying him. You bucked your hips as you tried to get your body back into packing mode and not cock-hungry.

Waltzing up you knocked on the door you waited for him to open it. "Help me get these into my room. I won't do them all." You shrugged.

He sighed melodramatically and joined you in moving and even unpacking them and putting your favorite mug in the kitchenette on display. "Easy access, like a certain slut I know." He tapped your nose, smirking then playfully slapping your ass.

You squeaked.

He rolled his eyes, "One more night here? We can have a fire like you like, even make a s'more. Always loved the idea of those. I read a book once as a child about alien cuisines and that was listed as a traditional Earthling dish…" His eyes lit up like a kid with a kitten.

You smiled and rubbed your ass gently, "Sure."

You indulged him in this and sat on your Master's lap, as the wicker and vinyl seating wasn't really the most comfortable seating for you at the moment. His thighs were cushion-y and the curve of them really supported you.

It was a lovely evening, you had to admit it. The Master's scent and the scent of pine trees and the maple wood on the fire. The chocolate and graham crackers were also adding a level of scent. If you could bottle up a scent for instant perfume production, it'd be this moment.

You quickly figured out that the main appeal was the open flame and setting the marshmallows on fire. "Remind me to never let you near a fondue bar or make souffles." You chided as you trimmed your hair from a bit catching fire ranting under your breath about mad men and flames. He was still giggling with the stick still blazing and dancing around the yard.

It was oddly endearing. Even if you had to give yourself a DIY haircut in your kitchen sink.

"Don't start a forest fire!" You screamed out the window. You exhaled sleepily. Despite the seven s'mores you had and the rollicking conversation you were having, you were still human, you needed to sleep. Big day tomorrow, you were moving and you were going back out on adventures. Your time here in this phase of your life was closing. You felt melancholic about it, but you wanted to see the stars again. The time off from it and the current start of your second relationship with the same Master gave you a newer, wiser perspective.

Was this growth?

If this was a story in literature class, you’d be if this was a bit of symbolism. Haircut and change. You laughed at yourself at that thought...

He came back from his fun run and asked you if you wanted to sleep, you nodded a bit and he led you into the bathroom and drew you a bath.

He really enjoyed giving you baths for some reason. Not that you minded, you were equal parts lazy and enjoyed the pampering of it. He was always so gentle with you in these times.

Your Master even blew dried your hair and helped set it.

He was a good Master, you were lucky to have him, you found yourself thinking as he tucked you away into the folds of your bedding like a burrito. He even kissed your forehead and turned out the lights. You found yourself thinking as you drifted deeper into sleep about ownership and how he'd been patient with you. Master was there to take care of you, all you had to do was obey him.

You could do that. You wanted to. You would obey….

#personal #i wrote this #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x reader #the master #master x you #master x reader #the master x reader #sacha dhawan #doctor who self insert fiction #citrus #yeet me into the sun

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hardyimagines · 5 years ago

Text

The Prison Guard’s Daughter

Drabble

Warnings: sexual

———————————————————————

“I think you need to be taught a fucking lesson.” He ground out roughly. His voice was deep and low, a sound that rumbled deep within his chest before rolling past his lips. The door behind him was bolted, locked and securing you away inside. You were trapped. It was your fault though, you’d been silly enough to wander down the corridor he was tucked away in and then even more foolish enough to converse with him.

Charles Bronson was very manipulative. Very attractive. He could be sweet if he wanted to be. And that was exactly how you’d wound up coming into his cell. The room was cold, grey, and dusty. It wasn’t welcoming at all and you found it quite difficult to get comfortable in the boring room. You perched yourself down on the edge of his bed before twisting your hands in the front of your blouse. He’d never hurt you. You knew that much. So then why was your stomach churning with nerves?

“Why’s that?” You whispered breathily. Your voice was flooded with the same nerves that tickled your tummy, dripping evidently with worry that a switch would flip inside him and the violence that he exposed to the guards would be thrusted upon you. Once again, you knew that he’d never ever harm you — but the worry was still present.

You were the Prison guard’s helper. His little assistant. His pride and joy. His daughter. He was so reluctant when he’d agreed to hire you because he didn’t want any of the men here to mess with you. For the most part, they didn’t. Nobody wanted time added on to their sentence or to be tucked away in a cell in a secluded part of the prison. Nobody except Charles Bronson.

He never bothered to bite his tongue or think about what he was saying when it regarded you. He’d made it clear to you on many different occasions that he had high intentions to fuck you silly, but you’d always brushed off his little comments because you knew there was no way that he’d ever get you alone. You were, in all truth, all for it. It was a bit thrilling to do something so forbidden...

“Prancing around here all day long, hovering outside my cell, sunshine.. if you wanted me, you know, all you had to do was open the fucking door.” He approached your knees, bent so your calves could lazily swing.

“I have duties, Mr. Bronson, and keeping a close eye on you alongside my other tasks are top priority. You’re the biggest threat here.” You informed him before slowly drawing your bottom lip in so you could suckle on it.

“How’s it feel?” He lowered his thick fingers to the belt that circled his waist. “To be stuck inside with me?” The fastening on the belt clinked softly, metal scraping metal as he undid it at a very slow pace. He wanted your mind to spin and your head to scream at you for being stupid enough to venture into his private space. He wanted you to know how absolutely idiotic you were for coming into his cell where he could feast on you and nobody in the prison would know.

Bronson was so much bigger than you. A boulder in comparison to a pebble. You swallowed thickly before slowly placing your fingers on knees. Smoothing down your trousers, you peered up at the threatening bloke who seemed to be growing cockier and louder the longer he looked at you. “You won’t hurt me.”

“It’s not about pain, sunshine. But you, yeah, you’ve got no idea what I’m capable of.” He whispered thickly before shrinking toward you. “Too much pleasure will become unbearable and you’ve just locked yourself away in here with me for god knows how long.”

“Maybe I did it intentionally.” You bit back before slowly standing. The bed creaked noisily at the loss of your weight being applied to the wood. Standing in front of him bravely, you stared up at him with a hardened stare before pushing past him.

“You intentionally locked yourself in a cell with me?” His stomach flooded with pride, a significant feed to his ego.

You rolled your eyes at his question. “Oh shut it.” You moved to the door. Your fingers grazed the cold handle before moving to the small hatch. Pushing it open, you called for someone to come and assist you, but it was silent.

“Guards don’t often venture down this far, now, do they? Seeing as I am probably their least favorite prisoner.” He bit his cheek roughly and watched the way your hips swayed.

“Their goal in life is to avoid you.” You murmured before letting out a breathy sigh as you rotated to face him. “And I’m not suppose to be anywhere near you.” You pouted childishly. He found it rather cute.

“Daddy’s not my biggest fan, eh?” He chortled before moving toward you, forcing you to step back each time. “Tell me, Y/n, why you spend so much time hanging around this area if you’re meant to avoid it at all costs?” The question didn’t need an answer. He saw the attraction you felt for him, simmering in your gaze. “And why did you intentionally put yourself in my cell?”

Your back hit the wall behind you, forearms folding over the front of your stomach as your eyes slid along the length of his face. “I..” It was hard to form a coherent thought when being so close to him and he seemed to relish in the affect he had over you. “came into your cell because you lured me in.” You murmured honestly. “but I wasn’t exactly worried about it. You’ve always been so harmless.”

Prison guards left with bloody noses, missing teeth, bruised cheeks and achy necks after getting into brawls with Bronson.

He laughed audibly, the shaky sound flooding the entirety of the room. “Harmless?” His fingers brushed along the navy blue tank top he wore. “You think I’m harmless?”

“When it comes to women.” You defended. “Not so much when it comes to men in charge..” The shakiness in your breath contradicted the words that left your lips. If he was so harmless, why did you tremble? You weren’t ever afraid of him before. Shaking as you stood before him. It was because you were alone.

When bringing him lunch or assisting him alongside other guards, you held your chin up, fluttered your lashes, flirted with him when he flirted with you. But this, this was a completely different woman stood before him.

“Then why are you shaking?” He whispered hoarsely as he approached you completely. Bronson lifted his hand and placed it on the wall beside your head. Trapping you once again. He stared down at you with an intense stare, urging you to open up. When you didn’t speak right away though, he took it upon himself to fill in the silence. “Is it because you’re not use to messing around with boys much bigger than you? Not use to being secluded with someone so.. threatening?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Mr. Bronson.” You informed him before letting out an audible sigh. Laying your hand against his belly in order to push him back, you halted at the tight skin that resided beneath the fabric. Letting your fingertips trace the muscles, your brows creased. “You’re running out of time, you know. You’ll only have me stuck in here with you for a limited amount of time. My father has someone checking on my whereabouts every thirty minutes.” Your eyes locked on to his own.

“Is that your way of telling me to get on with it?” He lifted his large hand to your cheeks. Pinching them tenderly, his hand stroked your warm skin before gliding down to your throat. He squeezed it delicately before leaning in so his hot breaths tickled your parted lips. “I don’t want to rush this. And I won’t. I don’t care who’s on the other side of that door.” Your head tipped back slightly, hum leaving your lips as you shut your eyes.

“You’re all talk. I’ve been in here for at least ten minutes and you haven’t done anything to me... I know the second the guards are lined up outside and my daddy’s stood at the back, demanding they come in and get me.. you’re fucked.” The word sounded so wrong leaving your lips. You drew the pink flesh in and nibbled on it before lifting your other hand to rest on his stomach beside the first one.

“It’s you that’ll be fucked and your daddy won’t be too happy about that, will he?” His hand fell to your wrist. Gripping it, he lifted it swiftly and drew it around his strong shoulders. “Peeking through the peephole to see if his babygirl is okay..” He leaned in and pressed his lips against your ear. “Only to find her slumped on the bed with her trousers around her ankles and her blouse torn open.” He let his lips graze your ear lobe, pinching it tenderly. “You’ll be a moaning, groaning, panting mess when I’m finished with you.”

Bronson tightened his grip on your throat before pulling you off the wall and pushing you toward the bed. He was firm. Forceful. But not causing any pain. You collapsed on the bed with a noisy swallow before laying down on your back. Watching him intently as he lowered his hands to his belt, you shivered excitedly. The sound of the leaky sink in the corner mixed with the dull tinking of his belt. He unfastened the strap much quicker than you’d expected, giving you no time at all to undress.

Bronson grunted heavily before moving toward the bed. He hunched over, palms finding your upper thighs so he could pry them open and lower himself down on top of you. He knelt between your legs, eyes trailing along the length of your face and then down the length of your body. You were beautiful. But he didn’t voice his thoughts. His fingers sunk into your skin, teeth gritting and jaw clenching as he held back the want to tear your clothes from your form and ram himself into you. It had been forever since he’d had sex so he knew he wasn’t going to be able to be too delicate with you. He was sure you knew that though.. he’d been in prison for what felt like forever.

Your fingertip lifted to his cheek, gliding along the soft surface lazily before you leaned up on your elbows and let your nose skim his own. Your lips parted slowly, residing centimeters from his own as your hot breaths mingled. You’d never ever thought you’d be given the chance to fool around with Charles Bronson. He was so dangerous. So watched. It was surprising to you that you’d been in the room long enough to have somewhat of a conversation with the bloke. You were sure someone was going to come knocking though, banging on the door as they demanded to know if you were in his room. They’d check all the rooms, of course, anxious to find your whereabouts.

“My daddy’s gonna have you transferred once he finds out what you’ve done to me.” You whispered quietly, attempting to bite back the little frown that pulled at your lips. Bronson lowered his head, purposefully avoiding your lips so he could instead assault your throat. His mouth was curious and careful, so different to his firm hands which continued to adjust your thighs, pushing and guiding as he dragged your legs around his hips.

“Will you miss me?” He let out a hoarse chuckle before letting his teeth playfully nip your flesh. His hands moved north, hooking in the waist of your trousers so he could pull them down and off of you. He struggled for a moment because of the position, but he managed to get the fabric down and around your knees before he moved his hands up to your blouse.

“No.” You lied breathily before placing your hand on the base of his bald head. Pulling his mouth back toward your own, you angled your head so your mouths could lock together perfectly. The warmth that flooded you was enough to draw a surprised whimper from your throat. You hadn’t expected to enjoy his touch this much.

———————————————————————

A/N: this is incomplete and I actually feel really shitty for just uploading it, but I will probably add a second part to it somewhere down the line — but right now I’m in a horrible place mentally, I can’t even form a coherent sentence when I try to write. I hope you enjoy what little of it I did get to finish ❤️

Tagged: @peakblogbecauseimweak @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @pansexualginger @marvelgirl7 @heyitscam99 @wow-he-cute @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @goodiesintheclosetlove @giftofdreams @ihclipse @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @centerhabit @clevertheoristpainter @jamierdr @favouritereadings @badmaax @thephuonganh @wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @matoki-darkpanda @bignastyfan-nz @hot-and-spiceyyy @azayamari @shane-isa-shame @chimthighz @baliadelcuore @lonewolf471 @crldrr @keeleyella @overitall2018 @lovebitesimagines @eddieisasnack

#tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagine #bronson fanfiction #bronson x reader

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lastbluetardis · 5 years ago

Text

Family of Six (7/14)

After James and Rose bring their newborn twins home, they work to find a balance between all four of their children, and each other. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU.

This chapter: Teen, 7800 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 33, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: almost 1 month

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

Next update: September 19th

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14

James awoke in the middle of the night to a small child shuffling over him. He grunted and scooted closer to the edge to give Sianin a bit more room to sleep in their bed.

“Ow!”

He forced open his eyes and saw Sianin straddling his stomach, shaking her hand.

“You rolled over on my wrist!”

“Sorry, darling,” he murmured, reaching out blindly for her hand. “Let Daddy see.”

Never mind that he couldn’t see anything in the dark, he prodded her fingers and wrist bone. Nothing felt amiss and she didn’t flinch or hiss, so he figured it was an arbitrary injury. Nevertheless, he pressed a kiss to her arm.

“All better,” he said. “Lie down now. It’s time to sleep.”

“I want my own bed,” Sianin said, continuing to clamber off of him. It was then he realized she wasn’t climbing into his and Rose’s bed, she was climbing out of it.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Nighty night.”

“Want me to tuck you in?”

“Nope. Nighty night,” she said again, continuing her climb. Her knee dug hard into his stomach, making him yelp.

“Oops! Sorry!” She swiftly knelt on the mattress edge beside him. A moment later, her lips pressed to his stomach. “All better.”

“Thanks,” he wheezed. “G’night.”

A thud sounded as Sianin jumped to the floor, then she walked out of the room.

“You all right?” Rose’s hand touched his chest. “She didn’t knee you in the ball…”

“Nope, the stomach,” he assured. “This is good progress, eh? Going back to her bed.”

“Definitely,” Rose said, wiggling close to him. She tucked her head into his shoulder and wrapped her arm around his middle. He raised her arm to wrap around his chest instead; his stomach was still a little tender.

“Is it weird that I miss her now?”

“A little bit,” Rose said. “But it’s okay. I kind of miss her too. Hopefully she’ll get better at staying in her own bed overnight.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, already half asleep.

When he next awoke, it was to pale yellow light peeking through their curtains and the sound of Rose speaking quietly. She was in the rocking chair with both twins in her arms, nursing them.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” he croaked through a dry mouth.

She beamed at him. “Thanks.”

He sat up in bed and flicked on the lamp, then scrabbled for his phone. It was half past six in the morning. He opened up the camera app and snapped a couple of photos of Rose feeding their babies.

“Do you have a breastfeeding fetish you’ve never told me about?” Rose drawled, smirking.

James rolled his eyes. “You look beautiful, and I want to capture these moments forever. You’re always taking photos of me and the kids, but I want to make sure you’re represented too. In fifty years, I don’t want the girls to look back at old pictures and wonder why their mum isn’t in any of them.”

Rose’s face softened. “Thanks, love. Though I’m not sure they’d appreciate always seeing me with my tits out.”

“Oh, shut up. They’re the most magnificent pair of breasts in the world.”

“I think you’re a tad biased.”

“Nope. The pinnacle of impartiality, me.” He grinned when Rose cackled. “Besides, you can’t really see them. The twins’ heads are blocking everything.”

He leaned against his pillows and rubbed the sleep from his face.

“I can take the girls out for a bit this morning, if you’d like,” James said. “Give you more of a lie-in. I’ve got an errand to run anyway.”

“I wonder what that errand could possibly be,” Rose mused, as though he didn’t get her a small bouquet of flowers every Mother’s Day.

“No idea. Nothing at all related to the day, I assure you. Nope. Just a common Sunday errand.”

“You’re a rubbish liar,” Rose teased.

They continued talking until they heard their kids moving around.

“Want me to take the twins out, too?” James said, standing up and stretching.

“Nah, they’ll be okay with me,” Rose answered. “You spent enough alone time with them yesterday. Thanks though.”

James stepped over to the rocking chair and kissed her swiftly before he went into the bathroom to shower. When he got out of the shower, he heard small voices in their bedroom. He wrapped a towel around his waist then stepped into their room.

Ainsley and Sianin were cuddling with Rose in bed. Ainsley was cradling Maddie in her arms, while Hannah rested on top of Rose’s chest. Sianin was tucked into her mother’s side, her head nestled in the crook of Rose’s shoulder.

“Morning, Dad,” Ainsley chirped.

“Morning,” he said. He walked over to his bedside table for his phone, then moved to the foot of the bed. “Smile, everyone.”

His entire family beamed at him as he took a couple of shots.

“Right, I’m gonna go out for a couple errands,” he said. “Ainsley, Sianin, I could use your help.”

“Where are we going?” Sianin asked.

He saw Rose smirking playfully at him. “Oh, nowhere important. I need to pick up a few things and want company. Go on, get dressed. We can get breakfast sandwiches while we’re out.”

“From McDonald’s?” Sianin asked excitedly.

“I was thinking that little coffee shop that’s close to your school,” he said instead.

Though Sianin deflated a little bit, she was still excited to be getting what she considered a “fancy breakfast”. She wriggled off the bed and trotted to her room.

Ainsley still had her arms full.

“You can give her to me,” James said, holding out his hands. He picked up the baby and held her in the crook of his arm. Ainsley slid off the bed and went to her room. “Good morning my darling Maddie-Waddie. Good morning!”

Maddie beamed at him, gurgling happily in his arms. Her little hands flailed in the air, and he bent down as though to nibble on them. When he caught her fingers lightly between his lips, she cooed loudly and her smile grew wider. He grinned.

“Unless you want to go to the flower shop in just a towel, you might want to get dressed.” Rose was looking at him tenderly, her phone in her hands.

“Oi, you’re not supposed to know that,” he whined.

“Oops. I meant that unless you want to go to the coffee shop in just a towel, you might want to get dressed,” she amended, a twinkle in her eye.

“That’s more like it,” he said, nodding.

He cuddled Maddie for a few more minutes before reluctantly handing her to Rose.

“I can’t wait ‘til Hannah smiles,” he said, stroking Hannah’s chubby cheek.

“Me too,” Rose said.

James coaxed one more smile from Maddie before he dropped his loosening towel—earning a wolf-whistle from his wife—and began pulling on clothes.

“Do you need anything while I’m out?” he asked as he laced up his Chucks.

“Nope. Though would you like to give me an indulgent gift before you go?”

James peered at her curiously, his head cocked.

“Stand up and give us a twirl?”

James glanced down at himself then shot Rose a wicked grin. He’d chosen a pair of trousers at random—a set of black skinny jeans that he remembered now were one of Rose’s favorite on him.

“As my lady wishes,” he said, getting to his feet.

Theatrically, he held his arms up and out to lift his shirt hem, exposing a sliver of skin at his belly. He then spun in a slow circle, gyrating his hips. When he had completed his rotation, he was pleased by the pink flush on her cheeks and the delighted smile on her face.

“Does my wife approve of my outfit?” he asked innocently.

“I guess it’s all right,” she said, her voice low.

James winked at her, then came up to her bedside. Predicting his actions, Rose angled her head up as he ducked down to press a kiss to her lips. She inhaled sharply through her nose then released a soft moan when he laved his tongue across her bottom lip, then sucked it into his mouth.

They snogged lazily for a few minutes, long enough that James had lowered himself to perch on the edge of the bed to avoid a crick in his neck. When he eventually pulled them out of the kiss, it took a few seconds to catch his breath.

“Blimey,” Rose murmured, her chest heaving. Her pupils were blown wide and her lips were deliciously red and glistening.

“Yeah, blimey,” he parroted dumbly.

“Thanks for indulging me,” she said.

“Anytime.” He sighed and nudged his nose against hers before he kissed her tenderly. “I should go.”

“Yeah, you should,” Rose said, kissing him back just as gently.

“On second thought, maybe I’ll stay in here all morning. I’ll put the twins in the nursery, tell Ainsley and Sianin they’re on their own for breakfast, then I’ll return and lock the door.”

“As tempting as that sounds,” Rose said, still giving him small, sweet kisses, “you promised them a fancy breakfast. And I’ll be utterly heartbroken and distraught if I don’t get my Mother’s Day bouquet.”

“Well, I can’t have you heartbroken and distraught,” James said, even as he made no move to stand up. He heaved a great breath, then planted one final kiss to her lips. “You have no idea how much I want to stay in here with you.”

“I know. Though it’s not like we could really do anything anyway,” she said as though consoling herself.

“Oh, there’s plenty we could do. I dunno about you, but snogging my soulmate is one of my favorite pastimes.” Rose giggled at him, and he beamed. “Love you, Rose.”

“Love you, James. Now go. Go on.”

He gave her a lazy salute, then left the bedroom to take his eldest children out.

Their first stop was the coffee shop, because James needed the caffeine and Sianin was moaning that she was starving. They sat down at one of the tables and ate their breakfast sandwiches slowly, making idle conversation as they did so.

“Next stop: flower shop for Mother’s Day flowers,” James said when he got the kids buckled into the car after breakfast.

He’d placed his order in advance, so the bouquet was ready to go when he got there. It was a simple arrangement with vibrant shades of purple and yellow blended together.

The girls also wanted to get flowers for their mother, so he told them to work together to pick something out. It was not the prettiest bouquet James had ever seen—they’d tried to make it as colorful as possible, no matter if the colors or flower shapes and sizes matched—but he knew Rose would absolutely love it, and the girls were rather proud of themselves for their creation.

When they got home, they sprinted into the house, shouting for their mother.

“We’ve got a surprise for you!”

“You do?” Rose asked from the couch.

“You have to close your eyes,” Sianin said.

With a small smile tugging her lips, Rose dutifully closed her eyes while James carried in the flowers. The girls went to retrieve the cards they just remembered they’d made.

“Smells wonderful in here,” she said.

“They got a wee bit excited with their flower arrangement.”

Rose grinned, but wiped it off when she heard her daughters returning down the hallway.

“You didn’t peek, did you?” Sianin asked accusingly.

“Nope,” Rose said.

At the same time James assured, “I made sure she didn’t.”

“I wanna hold it,” Sianin whispered.

“No, I do!”

“Let’s set it on the table,” James recommended.

“What could it possibly be?” Rose asked. “Can I look yet?”

“No!” Ainsley and Sianin said frantically.

James swallowed his laughter and set his daughters’ bouquet on the coffee table, then he went to put his in the kitchen with a warning to Rose not to open her eyes until he got back. When he returned, he opened his phone’s camera and took a picture of Rose sitting on the couch with her eyes closed, a gaudy flower arrangement in front of her.

“On three?” James suggested.

“Yeah. One… two… three!” The girls counted down together, and as soon as Rose’s eyes popped open, they shouted, “Happy Mother’s Day!”

“Oh! How beautiful!” she gasped, and by her earnest expression, she meant it. “Did you pick these out all by yourself?”

“Yep!” Sianin said proudly. “Do you love it?”

“I love it very much,” she said, bringing the flowers to her nose for a sniff even though their aroma had filled the living room. Then she set them on the table and opened her arms to scoop her eldest children in for a hug. “Thank you both.”

“We made you cards,” Ainsley said when Rose released them.

She and Sianin thrust their cards into Rose’s face.

“One at a time,” James chastised gently.

Rose opened up Ainsley’s first, then Sianin’s. Her eyes grew a bit misty as she read the sentiments in each card.

“Thank you,” she said, blinking away the moisture. “I’m going to keep these cards forever and ever.”

She pressed more kisses to her daughters’ faces.

“You’ve got another surprise in the kitchen,” James said, beckoning her with a tilt of the head.

She pushed herself to her feet and followed him. Her second bouquet was sitting on the kitchen island with two cards propped up beside it.

“They’re beautiful, James,” she said, stepping up to smell the flowers. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

He then directed her attention to the first of two cards. This one was store-bought and filled with traditional sappy well-wishes. James had scribbled his own sentiments inside the card as well.

She thanked him with a kiss, then accepted the second card. It was hand-made, and she recognized James’s handwriting. On the front, he’d written, “Happy Mummy’s Day to the best Mummy on the planet!”

Inside were two sets of teeny tiny handprints and the words “We’re too little to tell you ourselves, so Daddy translated. We love you to the moon and beyond! Forever yours, Hannah and Madeline.”

He had attempted a simple sketch of the moon and a rocket ship. Inside the rocket were tiny stick figures she assumed were supposed to be Hannah and Maddie.

Rose’s eyes welled with tears as she smiled down at the card “the twins” made.

“James,” she rasped. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for being the best mum in the universe,” James said, wrapping his arm around her waist to press a kiss to her temple. “I couldn’t imagine raising children with anyone but you. You make parenthood an absolute joy, and you make it as easy as it can possibly be. And I will forever be grateful to you for giving me four wonderful, perfect little girls.”

Rose buried her face into his chest as she clung to him.

“You helped a bit,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“Only with the fun part,” he said, nuzzling his nose into her hair. “Thank you for our beautiful children, Rose.”

More tears slipped down her cheeks. “God, I’m a mess.”

“Blame the hormones,” he suggested, hugging her tight. “Love you.”

“Love you,” she replied, tilting her head to look at him. “Thank you, James. You’re so sweet.”

“Sweet’s my middle name.” He brushed her tears away with his thumbs.

Rose giggled, then pressed a long kiss to his mouth. He hummed and angled his head to the side, intent on deepening the kiss, but Sianin walked in.

“Aren’t you supposed to have private alone time in your bedroom?”

Rose breathed out a laugh through her nose, then buried her face in James’s shoulder. He chuckled too.

“We weren’t having private alone time,” James said. “We were kissing.”

“Isn’t that what you do during private alone time?”

“Among other things,” he answered vaguely.

Rose groaned and pinched James’s side, already anticipating Sianin’s next words.

“Like what?”

“They have sex, Sianin.”

James let out a strangled sound as Ainsley skipped into the kitchen. Rose’s cheeks went hot.

Evidently Ainsley was taking the liberty to explain the birds and the bees to her little sister. “Dad’s penis goes in Mum’s vagina.”

Sianin cocked her head and looked between her parents, a slight look of disgust wrinkling her nose. “Why?”

“It’s… fun,” James said weakly, but Sianin raised her eyebrows in disbelief. He cleared his throat. “Sex is something adults who are in love do. It’s not an activity for children. But it’s something your mum and I like to do together.”

“Why do only adults do sex?” she asked.

“Children’s bodies aren’t big enough for it yet,” Rose said. “You’ve still got a lot of growing to do before then.”

“Like how kids can’t possess alcohol,” Sianin said matter-of-factly.

“Process,” James corrected, beaming. “Well… or possess, but I assumed you meant process? Anyhoo, you’re exactly right. Kid bodies and adult bodies are very different, so there are things adults can do that kids can’t. Make sense?”

“I suppose,” Sianin said. “When’s Gran and Grandad coming?”

“‘Round lunchtime,” Rose said. “Let’s clean up the house a little bit before they get here.”

“But it’s just Gran and Grandad,” Sianin said. “They’re not special people.”

Rose bit her lip to stifle her laughter. “The house still needs cleaned. Especially since we’re grilling outside—the patio furniture needs to be wiped down so we can sit there.”

After a few more grudging remarks, Sianin dutifully followed her parent’s instructions to tidy up.

James worked outside to clear off the girls’ playset, which had gathered a bit of dirt and grime over the winter months. Rose, Ainsley, and Sianin worked on cleaning the patio furniture.

Just as they finished up, a ring at the doorbell heralded Jackie’s arrival. Ainsley and Sianin rushed to the door to let their grandmother into the house and accept her hugs and kisses. James followed, ducking down to press a kiss to her cheek.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Jackie,” he said, giving her a squeeze. “Girls, did you wish Gran a happy Mother’s Day?”

“Happy Mother’s Day,” Ainsley chirped acquiescently.

“She’s not my mother,” Sianin said blankly.

James couldn’t help but laugh. “She might not be your mum, but she is a mum, and Mother’s Day is for all mums.”

Sianin tilted her head to consider him. “Oh. Happy Mother’s Day, Gran.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Jackie replied, a grin still lingering on her face.

Robert joined them soon after, and the family went outside to enjoy the unseasonably warm day. The adults settled at the patio table with a bottle of wine—and tea for Rose—while the kids played in the back garden. The babies napped contentedly inside. Rose set up a baby monitor in the living room with the twins, and had the receiver with her on the patio.

“Is Sianin doing any better?” Robert asked as he watched his granddaughter sprint around the yard, chasing Ainsley. “She seems like she is.”

“What’s wrong with Sianin?” Jackie asked, frowning.

“She’s had a bit of trouble adjusting to the twins,” Rose said. “She came to us the other weekend in tears because she thought we didn’t love her anymore, and that the twins were a replacement for her and Ainsley.”

“Oh, poor pet,” Jackie murmured.

“Yeah. She’s been sleeping with me and James since her birthday party. And has wet the bed a couple times this week,” Rose admitted. “Her mood is back to normal, and she even tries to interact with the twins whenever Ainsley plays with them. But she’s still sleeping with us, so something is still bothering her.”

“Though she did leave us in the middle of the night last night to go back to her own bed,” James chimed in.

“That’s encouraging,” Robert said. “Give her a bit more time. She’ll outgrow this phase.”

“It’s just heartbreaking to know she’s insecure about it at all,” Rose said. “I don’t know what else to do for her.”

“You’re doing everything you can,” Robert soothed. “She’ll adjust. She’s a resilient kid.”

“Hope so,” James said, watching his children playing together.

Ainsley noticed his gaze and called out. “Hey, Dad? When are we eating?”

“Are you hungry?” he asked. Both of his children nodded. “I’ll start the grill now.” He turned his attention to the rest of the family. “Are you lot hungry yet?”

“Not entirely, but maybe by the time the food’s ready,” Jackie answered. “Go ahead and get it cooking.”

He nodded and went into the kitchen to season the hamburger meat and form them into patties. He took them and the sausages outside, where Rose had already fired up the grill.

“Thanks, love,” he said, setting the platter of raw meat to the side while the grill heated up.

A few minutes later, he had all of the meat on the grill and was monitoring it carefully after a bit of dripping grease caused a flare-up.

A pair of familiar arms wrapped around him as he tended the food. He hummed and smiled to himself, enjoying the hug. When everything was flipped and sizzling, he lowered the lid of the grill and turned towards his wife.

“A kiss for the chef,” Rose said with a smile that made his insides flipflop.

She rocked up onto her toes and brushed a soft kiss to one corner of his mouth, then the other, and then the cleft between his lower lip and chin.

“Your aim is very poor this afternoon,” he murmured.

“Hmm, wanna show me how it’s done?”

“With pleasure…” He threaded his fingers through her hair and angled her head to the side before pressing his lips to hers. She sighed into the kiss, returning the gentle pressure and bringing her arms up to wrap loosely around his shoulders.

“There are young children here.”

James ignored his mother-in-law to continue leisurely kissing his wife. She smiled into his mouth then started easing them out of the kiss.

“That’s how you kiss the chef,” he whispered, grinning.

“I’ll tuck that lesson away for later,” she said with a wink.

“About time, you bleedin’ teenagers,” Jackie grumbled.

Rose rolled her eyes, stepping out of his arms.

“It was just a kiss, Mum,” Rose huffed.

James sat down at the patio table beside his father and poured himself a glass of wine.

“That was certainly not just a kiss,” Jackie said. “That was a snog.”

“So it’s illegal for me to snog my husband in my own house?” Rose shot back. James gripped her hand and gave it a small squeeze. She returned the gesture and slumped in her chair. “James and I don’t want the kids to think there’s anything bad or dirty about showing affection. We want them to know it’s perfectly normal and healthy to kiss and hug and cuddle someone they love.”

“Mummy and Daddy kiss all the time.”

Rose hadn’t realized her daughter had intruded upon the conversation.

“We kiss you all the time!” James tugged Sianin into his lap and blew kisses and raspberries into her neck. She squirmed and squealed in his lap, laughing until she was breathless.

Rose smiled at her husband and child. She loved that James was an affectionate father, unafraid and unashamed to let his children know how loved they were.

“Daddy, stop!”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, pulling back. “One more kiss to the forehead?”

Sianin nodded and tilted her face to him, accepting his brief peck. She then settled in his arms, seemingly content to stay there.

“Daddy, you like kissing Mummy a lot,” Sianin stated.

Rose bit her lip around a grin.

“Yes, I do,” James said simply. “I love your mummy very, very much and it’s one of the ways I show her that.”

“Will Elena, Juliette, and me kiss?” Sianin asked, angling her head to look at him.

“Perhaps, if you all want to kiss,” James said, brushing away a tendril of hair that had fallen into her eyes. “That’s the important part, that you all want to be kissing. You never kiss anyone without their permission.”

“Even if they’re your soulmate?”

“Even if they’re your soulmate,” James said firmly. “If Mummy ever tells me she doesn’t want a kiss, I don’t kiss her. And vice versa. If I don’t want a kiss, she doesn’t kiss me. It’s as simple as that. Do you understand?”

“Yep,” Sianin said, leaning into his chest.

“Good girl,” he said, kissing the top of her head.

“And you don’t do sex if Mummy doesn’t want it,” Sianin said, nodding to herself.

Robert and Jackie nearly choked on their drinks. The sound drew Sianin’s attention to them, and she said candidly, “Mummy and Daddy like to do sex. That’s when Daddy puts his penis in Mummy’s vagina. They say it’s fun but it doesn’t sound fun—it sounds like it would hurt.”

Rose thought her face might melt off and James’s cheeks, ears, and neck were bright red. Jackie and Robert were beaming at Sianin and looking as though they would burst out laughing any minute.

“But you don’t do it if Mummy doesn’t want to. And Mummy, you don’t do sex with Daddy if he doesn’t want to. Right?”

“That’s right, baby,” Rose answered. “That’s one of the most important parts of a relationship. Will you remember that always for me?”

“I’ll remember,” Sianin promised.

“Why don’t you go play with Ainsley,” James murmured, easing Sianin off his lap. “The food will be done in a few minutes.”

She slid to her feet and happily trotted to her big sister, who was swinging on their swing set.

Rose caught James’s eye and saw he was still beet-red. Now that Sianin was no longer there, Jackie and Robert let their laughter out.

“Not a word,” Rose growled at her mother.

“I thought you wanted your kids to know it was perfectly normal for people in love to kiss and hug and show their love,” Jackie said innocently.

“Shut up,” Rose grumbled, rubbing her palms across her face.

Robert, meanwhile, patted James on the shoulder and said, “Kids are curious little creatures and don’t quite understand the concept of propriety. She has no idea she’s embarrassing you. But for what it’s worth, you managed to teach her a valuable lesson from it.”

“I know,” James said. “For as much as Rose and I are trying to teach the girls that what we do together is healthy and natural, it’s still awkward.”

“Oh, I know. But every parent on the planet goes through this same thing,” Robert soothed. “Do you think it didn’t embarrass your mum and me when you learned what sex was? Or whenever you accidentally interrupted something.”

“Thankfully we’ve rarely had that,” Rose said.

“You’ll want to make sure Sianin isn’t co-sleeping with you before you get back to shaggin’,” Jackie advised.

“Oh, really?” James snarked. “Nah, I figured we’d scoot her to the foot of the bed whilst Rose and I make loud and passionate love right in front of her.”

“James,” Rose chastised, touching his forearm.

“Sorry, Jackie,” he mumbled. He stood up suddenly and thumbed behind him. “Burgers. I’m gonna… burgers.”

Rose watched him go with confusion, wondering what that was all about. Robert went with James.

“What’s up with himself, then?” Jackie asked.

“I dunno,” Rose said honestly.

“He’s not put out that you can’t have sex yet, is he?”

“Of course not,” Rose scoffed. “He’s brilliant about that. I’ll talk to him. Sorry, Mum. I think it just upset him to remember that Sianin’s struggling so much.”

“She’ll come around. Though why didn’t you tell me she was having a hard time?”

Rose shrugged. “Dunno. Didn’t think about it.”

“You didn’t think to tell your own mother that your child is having issues?” Jackie asked dubiously.

Agitation prickled under Rose’s skin at her mother’s tone, but she attempted to push it down.

“We’re handling it, Mum,” she said tightly.

Jackie harrumphed and leaned back in her seat, obviously disagreeing but not saying anything. Instead, she said, “Do you think this is it for you and James?”

“What?”

“Having kids,” Jackie clarified. “What with Sianin’s inability to adjust and everything.”

“She isn’t unable to adjust,” Rose spluttered. “She’s taking more time, is all.”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t want to put her through this again is what I meant,” Jackie said. “And besides, four’s a good number.”

Rose ground her teeth together, her fury rising. Her and James’s family planning was nobody’s business but theirs, and how dare her mother use Sianin as an excuse.

“I popped two babies out of my body last month,” Rose gritted out, “and you want to know if we’re planning to have any more?”

“You don’t have to get snippy with me, I was just asking a question,” Jackie said defensively.

“What does it matter if we have more children or not? Besides, we tried for four years, Mum,” Rose said, her voice hard. “Four years! James and I are doing so well now, but it was hard for us. Can’t you let us enjoy the two little girls we just had?”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Jackie said, her voice brittle.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I was only trying to make conversation!”

“There are a million different things we could’ve had a conversation about,” Rose said, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

“Rose?”

James was frowning at her as he carried a steaming plate of hamburgers to the patio table.

“I’m gonna check on the twins,” she muttered, pushing away from the table.

She breezed into the house and went to the cots in the living room. Both twins were awake. Hannah was chewing on her fingers and Maddie was stretching her arms and legs in whatever direction she could flail them.

“Hello, my beautiful girls,” she whispered. Inexplicably, tears burned in her throat. She didn’t know why she’d gotten so worked up at her mother, but that only made her more upset. “Mummy loves you so very much.”

Maddie beamed at her mother, cooing softly. Hannah was still suckling her fist.

“My beautiful, beautiful girls,” Rose said, tracing her fingertip across Maddie’s cheek, then Hannah’s. “You’re probably a bit hungry, eh? Shall we have some lunch?”

“Rose?” James squatted beside her and rested his hand at her lower back. “Are you all right?”

“I dunno. I dunno what’s wrong with me.” She trailed off, and he stayed quiet, letting her think. “It seems like Mum and I are getting into it every time we talk.”

“What were the two of you talking about?” he asked. “I couldn’t really catch the thread of conversation.”

“It’s stupid,” Rose said, rubbing the heel of her hand into her eyes. “She asked if we were done having kids or not.”

“The twins just got here,” he said, frowning.

“That’s what I said, too,” Rose said. “Then she was using Sianin to defend herself… about how Sianin’s struggling so much and surely we wouldn’t want to put her through all of this again. She said she didn’t mean anything by it. I dunno why I’m even so upset. Which is just pissing me off even more.”

James frowned sympathetically and wrapped his arm loosely around her waist. She rested her head on his shoulder.

“I guess it feels like she’s always trying to stick her nose in my life,” Rose said. “And I know she’s my mum and everything, but it makes me feel like she doesn’t approve of anything I do as a mother, or how we’re raising our family.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Why do we keep getting into little arguments any time she comes ‘round?”

“I don’t know. I’m sorry,” he repeated.

“Is it me? Am I being a total arse? Completely overreacting about everything?”

“You very seldom overreact,” he said. “I believe that if something is bothering you, it’s real. I don’t know what that something is, whether it’s something Jackie is doing or saying, or whether you’re struggling with something else. But I’m here to listen whenever you need to vent.”

Rose tucked her head under his chin. “I want my mum to enjoy the time she spends with us. And I want to enjoy it too. But lately all she seems to do is pick a fight.”

“I know, love. I know.”

Rose was silent for a moment, then asked, “Are you all right? You got a bit testy with Mum too.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. I apologized to her, too. I was uncomfortable, is all. Then your mum feeling like she needed to tell us to wait until Sianin wasn’t wanting to sleep in our bed before resuming sex… what does she think, we’ll get it on with anyone in the room? Or that we’d lock our struggling child out of our room so we could shag?”

“I know,” Rose said gently. “But now you understand what I’m talking about. Why does my mum have a way of making everything she says feel like she’s judging?”

James exhaled heavily. “I dunno. Maybe we’re both a pair of nutters who are overreacting.”

“At least we’re each other’s nutters,” Rose said, bumping her shoulder into his.

“Forever,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. He brushed a kiss to the top of her head then said, “Come. There are a few more burger patties I can grill up. Don’t want you eating a cold burger on Mother’s Day.”

“I need to feed the twins,” Rose said.

“Then I’ll wait ‘til you come out to cook them,” he said.

With a parting kiss to the side of her head, James stood and returned to the rest of the family outside.

Sianin’s plate was nearly empty, and she was currently ripping up a square of cheese and eating it. Ainsley was eating at a more reasonable pace, though she’d still inhaled her food.

“You two act as though I never feed you,” he whined dramatically, plopping into his seat beside Sianin. She beamed at him through lips smeared with melted cheese and ketchup. He picked up his napkin and wiped at her chin. “Shall we at least act like we have table manners?”

Sianin giggled and stuck her tongue out at him. “Can I have another burger?”

“Another one?” he asked dubiously. Sianin nodded. “How about you let your food settle a tiny little bit. If you still want more in a half hour, I’ll get you more.”

Sianin huffed but sat back into her seat, nibbling on some crisps.

When Rose had been inside for fifteen minutes, James leapt from his seat to grill up the remaining hamburgers so that when she joined them several minutes later, it was to a piping hot burger dripping with melted cheese and sandwiched on a buttery, toasted bun.

Rose gave her mother a tight-lipped smile and asked, “Want a baby?”

“Please,” Jackie said, just as stiffly.

Rose handed Hannah to Jackie, then turned to Robert. “Want Maddie?”

At his eager nod, she deposited the other baby into his arms.

Rose sat down in her seat beside her mother, and James swept up to her side carrying a plate of food. Setting the plate down with a flourish, he took her hand in his and pressed a long kiss to the back of her hand.

“For you, milady,” he purred.

She beamed at him, relief and gratitude crossing her face as she gave his hand a squeeze.

He pulled his chair closer to her and draped his arm lazily along the back of her chair, absently caressing the nape of her neck with his fingertips.

The remainder of the afternoon passed much better than James thought it would. The thin layer of tension vibrating between Rose and her mother was often broken by one of the girls. Jackie threw all of her attention to her granddaughters, playing with them as much as she could until it was time for her to go home.

James saw Rose talking to Jackie as they walked to the front door, where a cab was waiting to take Jackie to the train station. He considered it a victory that neither woman raised their voice, but Rose appeared irked when she returned.

“All right?” he asked quietly.

Rose sighed. “She gave a sort of backhanded apology for upsetting me. But she continued to defend herself, so that sort of negated the point of an apology.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, tugging her into his side.

“Thanks. I’m sorry too.” She buried her face into his chest, and after a long moment, she confessed, “I wish my mum could be like your dad. And I’m a horrible daughter for saying that, but it’s true. Why can’t she be supportive and happy with my family?”

James squeezed her tight and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, not knowing what else he could say.

Robert stayed long enough to help James clean up from their barbecue. He refused to let Rose help on account of it being Mother’s Day.

“Is Rose all right?” Robert asked as he and James put the leftover food into containers.

“Noticed that, did you?” James asked dryly. After a beat, he admitted, “She and her mother have been butting heads recently. I’m trying to stay neutral, but I mean… my wife is upset. I dunno how much longer I can stay out of it.”

“Part of the reason Jackie’s upset is that she doesn’t get to see the girls as often as she’d like,” Robert supplied. At James’s blank stare, he explained, “We were chatting a bit when you and Rose went inside. She misses you and Rose and the kids. I don’t think it helps knowing I come ‘round so often.”

“You’d think she would want to make the most of the time she’s here then, instead of wasting it by bickering with Rose,” James said.

“One would think. But then again, rational thought sort of goes out the window when one is upset.”

James grimaced. “I dunno what to do.”

“Not sure there’s much to do. Be patient with Jackie. And maybe try to find other ways for her to see the girls. Phone calls and video chats and things, perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” James agreed, and he and Robert finished up the rest of the cleaning up in silence.

James was glad when the girls’ bedtime rolled around. He loved spending time with his family, but he was eager for some peace. He felt a little guilty about it, but he couldn’t deny that bedtime was a relief; it gave him time to be alone with his wife, without the distraction of chores, errands, or childcare. But as exhausting as it was to care for not one newborn, but two—and a nine- and six-year-old—he wouldn’t trade anything about his life.

“Penny for ‘em.” Rose knocked her leg against his as she settled on the sofa beside him with a large bowl of ice cream to watch a rom-com they’d found on the television.

“Just thinking about the kids,” he replied. After a beat, he said, “I love being a dad.”

“Well, that’s good,” Rose drawled, but her eyes were soft. “Bit too late to change your mind.”

He flicked her arm half-heartedly.

She blew a raspberry at him, then tucked herself closer to him. He draped his arm around her shoulders, enjoying the touch.

“But seriously, Rose. I love being a dad. My heart is so full with love and joy. Our daughters are my greatest accomplishment. I can’t fathom my life without them in it.”

“You big softie,” Rose said, grinning at him.

“Oi, I resent that,” he whined. “I am very tough and masculine, thank you very much.”

Rose broke out into peals of laughter, then leaned up to kiss him. Her lips were cold and tasted like chocolate.

“Gonna share that?” he hummed into the kiss, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“That was the plan. S’why I scooped out so much.”

With a parting kiss to her lips, he pulled back and they spent the next hour and a half watching a film and trading off bites of ice cream.

They were both pleasantly drowsy when they rose from the couch to go to bed. They went through the typical nighttime checks, ensuring the house was properly locked up, before peeking in on their kids.

Sianin’s door was wide open and their six-year-old wasn’t in bed. They frowned at each other, then moved to Ainsley’s room. Their eldest was alone in her bed.

“Guess we’ve got a bedmate waiting for us.”

“This is earlier than usual,” Rose said worriedly. “I’d thought… I’d hoped… since she left us last night…”

James nodded and closed Ainsley’s door, then moved to their own bedroom. Sianin was sprawled across the head of their bed, her body somehow touching all of their pillows. An iPad lay on the mattress in front of her. She was asleep, but the video she’d been watching was still playing.

Rose took the tablet and shut it off, then they each went through their nighttime routine as quietly as they could. James finished before Rose, and he did a quick check on the twins before stepping to the bed.

“Sianin,” he crooned, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

She stirred and opened her eyes slowly. She blinked up at him for a few seconds, as though not quite understanding where she was, before she smiled sleepily at him.

“I couldn’t sleep. I came in here but you and Mummy weren’t in bed.”

“Scoot over, darling,” James said. “I don’t fancy using your bum as a pillow tonight.”

Sianin huffed out a laugh, then she pivoted until she was in the center of the mattress. James crawled in beside her, and as soon as he was laying down, she shuffled closer to him and wrapped her entire body around his torso.

“Love you, Daddy,” she whispered into his neck.

“Love you, too, Sian,” he responded, kissing the top of her head.

The bed dipped a minute later and Sianin turned to gaze at her mother.

“Love you, Mummy,” she said, reaching out a hand.

Rose took it and planted a kiss to Sianin’s palm. “Love you, too, baby.”

“Come cuddle,” she requested, tugging at Rose’s hand.

James met Rose half way, wriggling his way to the center of the bed with Sianin still wrapped around him. Rose pressed her front flush with Sianin’s back and draped her arm over James’s hips.

“Sianin sandwich,” she announced, blowing a raspberry into their daughter’s neck.

She squirmed and giggled.

“Time to sleep, now,” Rose said. “Sweet dreams, my sweet girl.”

Sianin heaved out a big breath, her body relaxing into James. A minute later, she was out cold.

James and Rose remained twined together, enjoying their cuddle, when they were interrupted by a knock so quiet they barely heard it. At first, James had thought it was the house creaking, but then Rose focused on something behind his shoulder as her brows knit together.

“Ainsley? Is everything all right?” She rolled away from James and Sianin as Ainsley walked up to Rose’s bedside. She bent down and whispered something in her mother’s ear. “Of course, sweetheart.”

Rose got out of bed, and before James could ask, Ainsley slipped under the covers.

“You okay?” James asked.

A small, quick dip of her head was her only reply. After a beat, she mumbled, “You said to come to you if I ever felt weird.”

“Are you feeling weird?” Rose asked, sliding into bed behind Ainsley and locking her into a cuddle.

Ainsley hugged her mother’s arm to her chest, then absently began spinning Rose’s wedding band round and round. “My stomach and chest hurt. Not like I’m sick. But inside. Like I’m sad.”

“Why are you sad?” Rose asked.

Ainsley shrugged and stared intently at Rose’s wedding band. “I feel lonely. You’re so busy with Hannah and Maddie. And with Sianin since she’s having a hard time. And I feel so bad for her, I do. And I feel awful for feeling the way I do, ‘cos she’s having such a bad time of it. But it’s… it’s like… it’s like I’m just… here. Living here, but going about the day by myself.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Rose squeezed her eyes shut and clutched Ainsley to her chest. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Ainsley said quickly.

“No, it’s not,” James croaked. “Ains…”

“Really, it’s fine,” she said firmly. “I honestly haven’t felt like this before. But tonight, for some reason, I’m feeling sad and alone. I heard you in here with Sianin, and I guess I felt a little left out.”

“Thank you for coming to us,” Rose murmured. “We’re so sorry. We’re learning how to juggle two new babies with you and Sianin, and we let you slip through the cracks.”

“I think you’re doing brilliant,” Ainsley said.

Obviously not, James scoffed to himself.

“Like I said, I feel a bit daft,” Ainsley admitted, finally turning her head to look at Rose. “You, Sianin, and I had a great day out yesterday.” She looked at James. “And this morning, with breakfast and the flowers. It was nice.”

“We’ll try to plan more days out,” James said. “Individually, too, if you’d like. We can try to make a weekly library date or something, just you and me, or you and your mum.”

Ainsley smiled shyly. “I’d like that.”

“Then it’s done,” James proclaimed, reaching over to cup his daughter’s cheek. “I love you so much, Ainsley. So much.”

“I know,” she said, holding his hand to her face. “Love you, too.”

“You’re an amazing girl,” Rose said, petting Ainsley’s sleek hair. “Your dad and I got so lucky with you. We’ll try to be better for you, Ains.”

Ainsley didn’t answer, but melted into her mother’s embrace.

“Ainsley?” Sianin rubbed her fist into her eyes and looked back at her big sister. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“We’re all having a sleepover in Mummy’s and Daddy’s bed,” James said.

“Oh. Cool.” Sianin let out a grunt and tucked her face into James’s chest, asleep in seconds.

Ainsley’s eyes were likewise closed, and a few minutes later, they heard her breathing even out. Rose didn’t cease stroking Ainsley’s hair.

James reached out and covered her hand with his. She squeezed it hard and met his gaze—he was sure the anguish and frustration on her face was reflected in his.

“We’ll get better at this,” James whispered. “It’s just a bit of growing pains.”

“Growing pains suck,” Rose muttered.

James shot her half a smile, then gave her hand a final squeeze before pulling away. He wrapped Sianin into a hug and nuzzled his chin against the top of her head, closing his eyes and falling into a fitful sleep.

If you’ve made it to the end, consider leaving a comment or reblogging? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

#doctorroseprompts #ficandchips #dwfic #doctor who #ten x rose #ten x rose au #soulmates au #my fic #perfectly matched series #family of six #family fic #kid fic #baby fic #au #soulmates #soulmates verse

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