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let-the-dream-begin · 3 years

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In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 29: Butterly

Chapter 28

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The rest of August flew by. The power was restored a little over a week after the storm had initially hit, and getting Faith back into her normal routine (sleeping in her own bed, brushing teeth in the bathroom) was a bit of a struggle. Dismantling the fort had been a feat as well; Faith was not at all happy about it. Claire would absolutely not sleep on the floor, but she couldn’t bring herself to force Faith to sleep alone with no nightlight or option to turn the lights on, so she’d been allowed to sleep with Mummy until the power was restored.

September was upon them, and with it, the terror of a day that Claire had been anticipating with dread and excitement for months.

On September ninth, Faith was going to school.

In the middle of August, Claire had rearranged her work schedule to be able to take her to the orientation, tethered to Angus. They’d been picked up by the bus together so that Faith could practice with a school bus. The orientation leader had been extremely kind and helpful, showing them the whole school before they got to the special education room. It was a different district than the one they lived in, but Mrs. Lickett (and Claire’s research) had told her that this was the best program for Faith’s specific needs. The classroom was smaller than the others, but her class was only eight children altogether. Claire had heard horror stories of special needs children in a classroom that was essentially a glorified closet, no windows, no color in the room. So when the room they entered was nothing short of the most adorable, sunshine-y kindergarten classroom she’d ever seen, Claire could have cried with relief.

Each child’s individual aid was waiting in the classroom, including Carole, Faith’s aid. She’d been told about Angus and what he was specifically meant to help with in terms of Faith’s behavior and education. He’d responded well to a few experimental commands from Carole, and Faith seemed to like her well enough. Miss O’Reilly was the teacher’s name, and she gave a small sample lesson to demonstrate for the parents, and for the children to practice. Claire hung in the back of the room with the other parents, who all looked equally as terrified as she was.

Watching Faith at her little desk, her aid pointing to her pencil and paper, whispering in her ear to encourage her participation, was overwhelming. She was squirming a bit, turning around occasionally to reach for Claire. Angus was dutiful, however, nudging her, applying pressure in her lap with his head to bring her back, to calm her down.

She can do it. They can do it. Together.

Claire took the day off for Faith’s first day; she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on a damn thing at work, and she didn’t feel like being responsible for people’s lives while her mind was otherwise occupied. Jamie insisted on taking the day off as well, on being there to see her off on the bus, and then staying with Claire like her own emotional support animal. She’d insisted he didn’t need to, though it was a rather weak insistence, because she knew deep down she needed him.

He had arrived promptly at seven o’clock, being that Faith’s bus was to arrive at eight-fifteen. He seemed surprised to find her fully dressed already, full-well knowing by now that his girlfriend was not a morning person. He’d apparently expected her to be in her pajamas.

“I hardly slept last night,” she admitted, standing aside to let him in. “I finally gave up around five, got dressed around six.”

He smiled with sympathy and gently pulled her in for a brief kiss. “I didna sleep much at all either.” He pulled her in for a comforting embrace, and his heartbeat in her ear did wonders for her nerves, if only temporarily. She felt his breath on the top of her head, and he pressed another kiss there.

“She nervous at all?” he asked.

“I don’t know, it’s hard to tell. I’m not sure she realizes that I won’t be going with her this time.” The thought sent her stomach turning again, filled with dread over Faith’s heart-crushing realization that Mummy was sending her away.

“Aye, suppose we’ll find out.” He pulled away to offer her another smile, and she craned her neck to kiss him again. “Here.” He produced a paper bag from behind his back, and Claire started, not even having realized he’d been holding something the whole time. “Picked ye up a wee treat fer breakfast. Ye deserve something better today than those crumbly chunks of oat ye call a meal.”

Her eyes smoldering with affection, she took the bag and peeked inside. “Granola bars are quite good for you. Fiber and protein are important.”

“Perhaps. But so are taste buds.”

She rolled her eyes as she shuffled away, depositing the bag on the kitchen counter. “I’ll eat it later. Could you get her cereal ready while I wake her up?”

“Aye, certainly.”

They brushed past each other in the doorway of the kitchen, and Claire entered Faith’s bedroom, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Angus, come,” she said lightly, and the previously sleeping dog sprang up from his spot beside Faith, trotting next to Claire. She sat down on the edge of Faith’s bed and began stroking her head. “Faith, darling. Time to wake up.”

Her eyes fluttered open, and Claire was greeted with a sweet, absent smile.

“There she is! Good morning, lovie.” Faith sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Do you know what today is? It’s the first day of school! Yay!” She signed applause, and Faith copied lazily, her hands apparently not totally awake yet. “It’s time to get up and get dressed. Do you want to look pretty for school, Faithie?”

Faith nodded excitedly, giving a little hum.

“That’s right. Up we get now, come on.” Claire stood up and went to the dresser, picking up the blue dress she already had lain out. “Look at your pretty dress, baby. You’re going to look so pretty. Yes?”

She gave an excited little hop, and she raised her arms up, indicating she was ready for Claire to pull her pajama shirt off. Claire chuckled and obliged her, talking to her gently as she got her dressed. Claire insisted she give her a twirl when the dress was on, and Faith was more than happy to do so. Dressed and twirled, Claire loosely pulled half of her wild curls up, then clipped the tartan hair bow at the base of the ponytail.

“There. Pretty dress, and Merida bow. You’re all ready.”

Faith hummed loudly, jiggling her hands, and she followed Claire into the living room, trailed closely by Angus.

“Look who’s here, Faith! Special for you on your first day of school!” They entered the kitchen, and Faith practically launched herself at Jamie, throwing her arms around his legs right where he stood at the counter.

“Ah, there she is! Good morning, my braw wee lass!” He cupped the top of her head, and looked up at Claire as his fingers brushed the hair bow. “Ye’re a proper wee Scot today, aye? Wearing the hair bow I gave ye?” He pointed at the bow, and Faith giggled.

“It’s her favorite. Of course she had to wear it for such a big day.”

Brimming with affection, Jamie crossed the room, swinging Faith as she clung to his leg, and pressed a sweet kiss on Claire’s lips. Claire giggled into the kiss, the silly image of him wearing her daughter on his leg impossible to ignore.

“Alright, little monkey. Let Jamie go, please. Time for breakfast. Angus first.”

Faith obeyed, marching over to Angus’s bag of food and dumping the scoopful into his bowl, and Jamie handed her the pre-measured cup of water for her to pour into his water bowl.

“Good girl,” Claire said warmly as Angus already began digging in. “Your turn.”

A bowl of Cheerios was already waiting on the table, and Jamie hurried to pour the milk in. “Didna want it to get soggy while it waited fer her.”

Claire’s heart felt fit to burst for the fifth time that morning. Before Faith had interrupted, Jamie had been cutting up an apple at the counter, and he finished up before putting the plate next to Faith’s cheerios.

Having finished his breakfast in a matter of seconds, as usual, Angus was free for Jamie to pet and coddle while Claire carefully arranged Faith’s lunch and snack in her Frozen lunchbox.

“See, Faith?” Claire said. “Lunch is all ready to go.”

Faith looked up from her cereal to give a thumbs up.

On the way home from orientation, as a reward for being a good girl, Claire had stopped at Target and let Faith choose any lunchbox and backpack she wanted, along with a few folders and fun pencils. They were all Disney, of course, mostly Frozen dominated.

“These are for school, lovie. All of your favorites are going to help you be a big girl in school, yes?” Claire had said while Faith filled the shopping cart. Faith had simply hummed contentedly, smiling dreamily.

Claire checked said backpack about eight times before Faith finished her breakfast, and she heard Jamie coaxing her to drink the milk leftover in her cereal bowl.

“To make yer wee bones grow big and strong, a leannan.”

She re-entered the kitchen to see him popping an apple slice in his mouth, making an absurd face, and Faith squealed, shaking her head.

“If ye dinna want me to steal every slice, ye’d better hurry.” He picked up another slice, and Faith tried to grab it, but he stealthily dodged her and popped it in his mouth. She squealed with laughter again, and then countered by popping a slice in her own mouth.

“Och, I wanted that one.” Jamie leaned back with contrived exasperation, crossing his arms. Faith giggled incessantly, and Claire had to bite her lip.

“Ridiculous human being,” she said, shaking her head.

“Can Mummy have any apples d’ye think?”

Faith squealed and adamantly shook her head, curls flying wildly.

“Oh, I can’t?” Claire challenged, crossing the room to join them at the table. She swiped a slice off the plate and popped it in her mouth, and Faith shrieked. “You heard him. You’d better hurry before we finish them.”

Faith ate another slice, looking back and forth between the adults like a little conspirator. They carried on like this, Jamie and Claire bringing slices to their open mouths, but then depositing them into Faith’s instead.

Eight o’clock came much too soon, and Claire cleaned up in the kitchen while Jamie led Faith into the living room. When Claire joined them, Jamie was giving her a quiet pep-talk while tying her shoes, her pink princess sneakers that didn’t at all match what she was wearing, but that she insisted on wearing no matter what.

Claire picked up her backpack when Jamie finished, not wanting to interrupt. “Alright, lovie. Ready?”

Faith nodded, extending her arms and allowing Claire to put the straps over her shoulders.

“There you go. All ready for school.”

“No’ quite,” Jamie said, reaching behind him into his back pocket. “I’ve got something special, Faith. Since ye’re such a big girl now, going to school and all.” He produced a tiny plush brown horse, attached to a little hook. “It’s a keychain, fer yer princess backpack.” Faith smiled, reaching out to hold it. “It’s a wee Pippi. See? She’s even got the white spot.” Struck by the familiarity, Faith stroked the white snout gently.

“Aye, very good, lass.” Jamie smiled widely. “Since ye canna take yer noble steed to school, or Horsie, I figure this’ll have to do.” He gently pried it from her hands to clip it to a loop on the backpack strap where she could reach it. “I’m very, very proud of you, Faith. When ye miss yer mam, I want ye to give wee Pippi a squeeze. Alright?”

They exchanged a thumbs up, and Claire almost burst into tears.

“I’m very proud of you too, baby.” Claire joined them, kneeling beside Jamie in front of her. “You’re such a big girl now.” She pushed her hair behind her ear. “Are you a big girl? Big girl, Faith?” Claire signed big girl, and Faith bounced with excitement, signing big.

“Yes, good girl.”

They spent the last few minutes before the bus arrived trying to coax her to uncover her face long enough to get a picture of her first day of school outfit. Claire and Jamie took turns being in the pictures, and Jamie even insisted on getting a selfie so they could all (Angus included) get into one picture.

There was suddenly a honk from outside, and Claire’s stomach lurched. She looked up at Jamie with terror, and he gave her hand a squeeze.

“Angus, come,” Jamie called, and he made quick work of getting him vested, leashed, and tethered to Faith.

Claire stood up and opened the front door, waving to the bus driver. She turned back to see dog and child ready to go, Jamie holding her hand.

He looked just as terrified as she felt.

Together, the four of them made their way down the steps to meet the bus, and they stopped a few feet away from the curb.

“Okay, baby. There’s the bus.” Claire said, kneeling in front of her on the concrete. “Are you ready?”

Are you ready, Beauchamp?

“It’s only for a few hours,” Claire said, perhaps more for herself than for Faith. “And then you’ll be home again with Mummy. Yes?”

“Ye’re gonnae have lots of fun, Faith. Show Angus to all yer new friends, learn sae much,” Jamie chimed in.

She was not humming, but her hand was jiggling at her side, and Jamie grasped it.

“It’s alright, mo chridhe.” He pressed a kiss to her little knuckles. “It’s alright.”

Claire bit down fiercely on her lip. No tears until she’s gone.

“I love you, baby.” Claire held up the sign, forcing a tiny smile. “I love you.”

Faith returned the sign, touching her thumb, finger, and pinky to Claire’s as their foreheads rested together. They held the sign and their embrace for several lingering seconds, until the constant chugging of the bus’s engine reminded Claire that time was still passing.

“Alright. Hugs.” Claire pulled her in for a quick hug, fervently kissing the top of her head.

“A hug fer me too, lass?” Jamie said tentatively, and Faith did not hesitate. He pulled her in and kissed her head as Claire had, offering her a wide grin when they pulled apart.

“Alright. It’s time now, baby.” Claire and Jamie stood up, each taking one of her hands and leading her to the bus. Carole was waiting at the top of the steps, smiling kindly.

“Hi, Faith,” she greeted warmly.

“Hold onto the railing, now,” Jamie said quickly, releasing the hand he was holding so Faith could grasp the metal railing.

Claire had to force herself to let go of Faith’s other hand, her heart stinging as Carole took it instead. She hesitated at the top of the stairs, stopping Carole from pulling her into a seat. Faith turned around, and Claire thought she was going to faint. Jamie seemed to read her mind, and he desperately grasped her hand, squeezing like his life depended on it.

Faith looked like she may cry, and her hand was jiggling in a way that both of them knew was not happy.

Angus pressed the top of his head into Faith’s side, and she laced her fingers in his fur, ceasing her jiggling.

“It’s okay, baby,” Claire choked out. “It’s okay.”

Angus stayed rooted in place, waiting patiently for the panic to pass, and Carole looked back and forth between girl and dog, and the anxious couple.

“Ready, Faith?” Carole gave her a thumbs up, and Faith turned away from Jamie and Claire to look up at her. “Ready?”

Faith returned the thumbs up, removing her hand from Angus.

“Okay. Let’s go sit.”

The doors to the bus closed, and Jamie and Claire staggered back, clinging desperately to one another. The bus lingered for several more seconds, and Faith soon appeared in one of the windows, or rather, her eyes and forehead did. Carole was talking to her, waving through the window, and Faith started waving, too. Claire and Jamie waved wildly with their free hands, and then the bus was pulling away, and Claire felt a piece of her heart leaving with it.

As soon as the bus was out of sight, Jamie crushed her to him, and she finally released the sob she’d been holding back.

“It’s alright, mo nighean donn,” he crooned into the top of her head, rocking her gently. “That was the worst part. Dinna fash, now. She did it.”

Claire wept quietly into his shirt, not caring if any one of her neighbors decided to peek out their window and see them on the curb. She felt his tears in her hair despite his calming words, and she held him tighter.

He was right; the worst part was over. She’d imagined so many different scenarios that ended either with Faith bolting off the bus, or with Claire dragging her down herself. She’d imagined Faith screaming her head off, red in the face with tears, inconsolable even by Angus.

But that hadn’t been the case.

“What if…what if she’s crying now? Just after we couldn’t see her anymore…?”

“She has Angus. He’s quite good at his job, ye ken.”

“I know, but she…” Claire couldn’t put words to her exact fear. “What if she’s not ready? What if I’ve just thrown her to the wolves…?”

“Ye’ve done all ye can to prepare her. Ye got her excited wi’ her supplies, ye trained her dog fer this moment fer months. If she canna handle it after all that, it’s no’ yer fault.” He kissed her head, and she felt its warmth reach her outermost extremities. “If it doesna work out this year, she’ll be all the more prepared next year. Mrs. Lickett said it’s alright if she’s no’ ready ’til next year.”

Claire nodded against his chest, sniffling loudly.

“Carole said she’d call if there was a problem on the bus. So there’s no need to worry, aye?” He pushed her away just enough to look into her eyes, and she nodded. He kissed her gently, brushing away her tears as he did. “Let’s go inside. Ye’ve got quite a tasty muffin waiting fer ye in the kitchen, if ye recall.”

She forced a tiny smile, hiccuping a bit. “I hope I don’t vomit it up.”

“If ye do, I’ll hold yer hair and rub yer back.” He put his arm around her shoulders and led her up the stairs. “Then I’ll get ye some saltines and ginger ale and take care of ye.”

She sighed and leaned into him. “I don’t deserve you.”

He scoffed. “Ye deserve to be taken care of, ye stubborn fool.”

She couldn’t help but smile as they entered the apartment, Jamie shutting the door behind them. “Thank you. For being here today. I think it helped ease her mind. And I…” She swallowed, catching her breath. “I really needed you.”

“Aye. I ken ye did.” He kissed her soundly again. “Come on, now. No more weeping. Breakfast time.”

——

Jamie did his best to distract Claire; it really was a valiant effort. They tried sex, but when he could see that her mind was elsewhere, he stopped, not wanting to force it when she wasn’t fully with him. Admittedly, even Jamie was struggling with that particular activity today. And he’d never had that problem before.

They settled on watching mindless television, but it didn’t do much for either of their nerves. He could feel Claire’s pulse going far too fast against his body, and Jamie’s fingers continued tapping anxiously on his thigh, his leg jiggling.

They were on perhaps their tenth episode of The Office, the sandwiches Jamie had made and tried to force Claire — and himself — to eat sitting untouched when Claire’s phone rang.

He swore Claire might have been having a stroke given the way she completely stiffened in her seat. She scrambled for the phone, resting idly on the coffee table.

“It’s the school,” she stammered, simultaneous with accepting the call. “Hello?”

Jamie’s stomach lurched, and he was grateful Claire put the phone on speaker.

“Hi, is this Miss Beauchamp?”

“Yes.”

“Hi, this is Miss O’Reilly, Faith’s teacher.”

“Yes, hello,” Claire said impatiently. “Is she alright? What’s happened?”

“Everything is okay, don’t worry. I’ve got Faith here with me. She keeps signing ‘mom,’ and she got more and more distressed every time, so we thought we should call you so she could hear your voice.”

Claire flashed a heartbreaking, guilt-ridden look up at Jamie. “Yes, give her the phone. Thank you.”

In a few seconds, the sound of sniffling came through the receiver, and Jamie instinctively grabbed Claire’s hand, squeezing for dear life.

“Faith? Hi, baby, it’s Mummy.”

Claire’s voice was wavering.

“It’s okay, lovie. I’m here. Jamie is here, too.”

“Hello, Faith,” Jamie chimed in. “It’s great to talk to ye.”

“I know you miss us, we miss you too,” Claire said carefully. “Don’t cry anymore, baby. It’s okay. You’re going to be home so, so soon. And then you get Oreos, remember? And a sticker.”

Mrs. Lickett and Claire had worked to put together a system where every day she went to and from school without a problem, she got a sticker on the sticker chart. She would earn little prizes for every filled row, and then, once the whole chart was full, she earned a big prize.

“I know you can do it,” Claire continued. “You’re such a big girl.”

“Aye, Faith, we’re verra proud of you.”

“That’s right,” Claire said. “I love you so much, baby. I’m doing the sign. Can you do it?” She paused for a bit. “I love you. Can you please give the phone to Miss O’Reilly?”

“Okay, thank you Faith.”

“How is she? Did that help?”

“I think it did. Now, just so you know, she did wet herself at her desk. And I know you said that she hasn’t really had bathroom issues in a while, so I assume it was just the stress.”

Claire’s grip tightened painfully on Jamie’s hand.

“Yes, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think she’d…”

“It’s okay. It happens to someone on the first day every year. It usually doesn’t happen more than one more time. She’s wearing the clean clothes you packed with her.”

“Ehm, okay,” Claire stammered. “Thank you so much.”

“Okay, I’ll call you again later to let you know how she did with the rest of the day.”

“Great. Thank you.”

“Bye-bye now.”

“Bye.”

The line went dead, and the phone collapsed in Claire’s lap as she buried her face in her hands. Jamie hung up the call to stop the ringing, and he pressed her against his chest.

“It’s alright, mo ghraidh.”

“No, it’s not…” she muttered tearfully against his chest. “I can’t do this, Jamie, I can’t. I’m going to go pick her up.”

“Hey.” Jamie tightened his grip on her, physically restraining her from getting up. “Ye’re no’ gonnae do that.”

“She hasn’t wet herself in nearly a year! Something is wrong! You could hear her crying. I have to go.”

She was nearing hysterics. Jamie pushed her away just enough to look in her eyes.

“Claire.” His voice was firm, tightly holding her shoulders. “Miss O’Reilly said she calmed down. What reason would she have to lie to ye?”

“She could’ve started right back in again once we hung up.”

“If you go get her now, she’ll never learn. She’ll think that if she pitches a fit that Mummy will come get her, and she can get out of school, or anything else. She needs to learn.”

He could tell how badly Claire wanted to look away, but she held his gaze. She welled up with fresh tears, and Jamie watched them trickle down her cheeks. Her chin trembled, and he, like the hypocrite he was, very nearly gave into her just to stop her from crying.

“You’re right,” Claire rasped, swallowing thickly. “I hate it…but you’re right.”

Jamie loosened his grip and moved his hands up to cup her cheeks. “It might be a long learning curve, but she will learn. She’s ready for school, I ken she is. She just doesna ken it herself yet. And ye canna give in before she has the chance to figure that out. She needs ye to give her this chance, Sassenach.”

Claire nodded, inhaling with a shuddering gasp. “I know.”

He tenderly kissed her forehead, letting it linger. “She’s a strong wee thing. And she gets it from her mother,” he said with pointed emphasis. “If she can do it, so can you.”

Claire nodded, swallowing again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sassenach.”

——

A bit after 3:30, the bus pulled up in front of the driveway, and both Jamie and Claire raced down the stairs. The doors to the bus opened, and Faith and Angus descended the stairs, Faith letting go of Carole’s hand to launch herself into Claire’s arms.

“Oh! Hello, darling!”

Jamie untethered her from Angus and commanded him to go upstairs and inside. Faith properly wrapped her legs around Claire’s waist, and she hoisted the girl up higher. Carole smiled sweetly down from the top of the stairs.

“How was she on the bus?” Claire called up.

“Fine, much more excited on the way back.”

The three adults shared a laugh.

“Oh, I bet,” Claire said, more to Faith then Carole. She fervently kissed her temple. “Thank you so much. I’ll be here tomorrow in the morning with her caretaker, and she’ll be getting her off without me.”

“Gotcha,” Carole said. The bus driver nodded as well.

“Okay, thank you, have a good day,” Claire said, waving. “Say bye-bye,” she crooned to Faith.

“Bye, thanks,” Jamie said, waving as well. Claire held Faith’s hand and waved with her, and the bus rolled away.

“Okay, time for Oreos!” Claire said.

“Aye, Oreos fer our big girl.” Jamie took Faith, knowing that Claire would have a hard time walking up the stairs with her. She was getting bigger every day.

They all sat at the kitchen table, Faith with her Oreos on her napkin, scraping the icing off with her teeth, Jamie and Claire watching her like she hung the stars, hands laced together.

Jamie gave her hand a squeeze, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “She did it.”

Claire nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. “We did it,” she corrected.

Jamie’s answer was a fervent kiss to the crown of her head.

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papergirllife · 4 years

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The Way I Hate You

Na Jaemin Smut

warnings: explicit sex, unprotected sex.

*gif credits to owner.

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It was 3am and the deafening noises that came from your new next door neighbor was causing you sleepless nights on end and a pounding headache, resulting newly advils in your nightstand drawer.

You looked at the time displayed on your digital clock, 3:36 A.M. . You won’t take any more of his shit tonight, you had work in a few hours and you aren’t going to waste anymore of your concealer on an ass like him.

You put on your baggy sweater and stomped out of your house, fist banging on his door. Just when your fist was about to come in contact with the door once again, a boy swung open the door. You nearly hit his face with your face if he wasn’t holding onto it.

“If you wanted to touch my face you could’ve just asked, cutie. No need to ruin a masterpiece and scar your soft little hands, no?”

You snatched your hand out of his and looked him in the eyes.

“Turn down your music! It’s going to be 4am soon and I have work in a few hours.”

“But I’m bored, and all alone, only music to keep me occupied. Maybe you can come over and entertain me.”

You took in his appearance, big eyes, perfect nose, and tousled greyish blue hair. He’s a prick, but he’s a darn attractive one. But he’s still a stranger.

“We don’t even know each other. If your looking for a hooker for the night I’ll direct you to that asshole down the hall, he’ll know the direction to the nearest strip club.”

“Feisty, I like it. That can be changed. Nice to meet you, I’m Na Jaemin, you can call me Nana or Jaemin.”

“Y/N.”

He placed his hand out for you to shake, but you just ignored it and went back into your home, banging the door.

The next day you felt like a zombie, your lifeline was literally solely supported by cups and cups of caffeine. You still slapped on a heavy amount of concealer, since you had an important meeting with investors. According to your boss, if your presentation pulled the investors off, you’ll be getting a bigger paycheck and a nice bonus.

When you got home that day, Jaemin wasn’t home yet, it was obvious, from the lack of noise pollution next door. So you took the longest nap you ever had in ages.

You stirred from your slumber when Jaemin began blasting his speakers, you looked at your clock, 8:45 P.M. . Instead of cooking pasta like you had originally planned, you decided to just eat a bowl of ramyun and a bottle of soju to go with it at the nearest convenience store.

When you got back, the noise from Jaemin’s place hasn’t died down. With the alcohol in your system giving you a kick courage, you rang his doorbell many times to disturb him from his ‘music’.

Jaemin opened the door to reveal how disheveled looking he was, you took in his appearance, baggy sweats and hair sticking all over the place, the bags underneath his eyes were much heavier than usual.

“I’m not in the mood, cutie. Just leave please.”

You were taken aback at his bratty attitude towards you, how does he dare tell you to scram off during his bad days, when you were having bad days on no end because of him and his wretched music?!

You had enough of Na Jaemin. Before you could process the things he said in your brain properly, the words were flying out of your mouth

“One bad day and you think you’re the king of this place?! Do you know how many sleepless nights I had because of you and your shitty music blasting at such a volume?! You nearly cost me my job if I haven’t got my shit together with the amount of coffee I drank! I’m getting my liver killed because of you! Do you know how much of a nuisance you are in my life ever since you moved in?! How can you be such a self centered selfish whiny bitch?!”

With every word you had said, you poked him in the chest once, making him stumble back once or twice back into his unit. When you were looking him in the eye spewing complaints at him, you didn’t notice the way Jaemin clenched his jaw, and the way his fists were held tight, his knuckles turning white.

Jaemin was holding back every fiber in his being not to lash back out at you, even if he did, he knew he was going to regret it in the morning. He knew he was being a dick for blasting his music, but his job was putting pressure on him, and the only way to vent it when he didn’t bother going to the gym was this. Jaemin holds no grudges towards you, but his temper wouldn’t hold up for long if he doesn’t do anything to get himself out of this situation.

“Why can’t you just shut up?!”

“Why don’t you make me, Y/N?”

Maybe it was because of the alcohol, maybe it was because of the stress mounted on your shoulders these past few days, but the irrational part of your brain took reins of you, and you smashed your lips against Jaemin’s, effectively shutting him up.

Well technically it didn’t stop the noise from his speakers, but in your head every little noise faded into nothing. Your body could only register the feeling of Jaemin’s lips against yours. Just as you were about to push him away because of his lack of response, Jaemin kissed you back with much more ferocity, his hands grabbing onto your hips, not letting you go.

You leaned against Jaemin, motioning him to invite you into his house. He picked up on your hints and backed himself into his house. When the both of you were in the house, Jaemin kicked the door shut and spun you around so that your back crashed against the door with a mild thud.

“I hate you Na Jaemin.”

“Are you sure, cutie? The signals your body is sending me tells me otherwise.”

That idiot winked at you. And you were a bigger idiot for liking it.

Jaemin patted at your butt, signalling you to jump.

“Are you sure? I’m heavy.”

“If I fail I’m switching gyms.”

Jaemin successfully caught you when you jumped in his arms, his fingers digging into your upper thighs, sending shocks coursing down your body travelling southwards to your core.

Jaemin took you to his bedroom, the exact route you take to your bed in your own house, a sense of odd familiarity washing over you. You begin sucking hickies onto Jaemin’s empty neck, flowers blooming in your wake.

Jaemin could feel his length growing at your lewd actions, when the both of you got to his room, Jaemin threw you on his bed with a light thud, desperate for any sort of action after you had him riled up just now.

Jaemin quickly discarded his clothes, standing stark naked in front of you, showing you all his glory. You licked your lips and rubbed your thighs together at the sight of his nudity.

Jaemin reached forward to help you take off your clothes, he was surprised to see the lack of bra when he took off your shirt, his left eyebrow cocked up questioning you.You smiled seductively, playing dumb to his questioning eyes.

“Oops, so forgetful of me.”

“Now you’re just begging to be fucked by me, babe.”

Jaemin tore off your panties last, his fingernails grazing your thighs lightly, he quickly shoved a finger inside of you, prepping you for what’s to come, but to his surprise, you were much wetter than he thought.

“Someone’s dripping for me. Guess I won’t need to finger you open anymore.”

You spread open your legs for him, your hand sliding down your core to move your folds aside to let him see how wet you were, arousal flowing down the bed sheets underneath you.

Jaemin slipped inside you in one thrust, the both of you letting out melodic moans, even though you were wet enough for him to enter, your tightness shocked him, your cavern engulfed him whole, he felt like he was floating. When you opened your eyes as you recovered from the sudden pleasure, you saw Jaemin’s fucked out expression, from just being inside of you. So you decided to play a little game and clench your pussy on his dick. Jaemin curled his toes at your further provocation. It must’ve been a long time since he had gotten laid.

“So that’s how you wanna play, babe?”

Jaemin pulled out and reposition you, ass up face down. He thrust himself back in without any warning, his pace relentless as he plowed you into the bed, you wouldn’t be surprised to see a mark shaped like you after this.

“Fuck, Jaemin!”

“That’s it, babe. Scream my name, let the whole floor know who’s making you feel good.”

Your nails dug into Jaemin’s sheets, back arched, Jaemin’s cock was rather long and it was hitting your sweet spot over and over again, you could feel tears running down your face, his fingers digging into your ass, definitely leaving marks, but you loved the combination of pain and pleasure Jaemin is giving you.

Jaemin found a new addiction, other than the loud music filling up his head’s empty void, he finds your moans as he wrecks you as addicting as nicotine, pumping adrenaline into his veins as he fucks into you.

Jaemin finds your ass an amazing sight to his eyes, a thought crossed his mind. He spanks you as he thrusts into you, once, twice, and had no sign of stopping.

“What the fuck are you doing, Jaemin?!”

Jaemin pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, yanking your head up to speak into your ear.

“Bad girls need to be punished, babe. Don’t act like your sweet little pussy isn’t clenching around me so hard after I started spanking you, you’re just in sweet denial.”

“I hate you, Jaemin!”

“I can change that.”

Jaemin propped his leg up and moved your hips higher, the angle giving him deeper access into your warm cavern. The new angle had you screaming his name as his cock was giving your sweet spot more attention than before with every stroke clouding your head in a pleasure-filled haze.

Jaemin’s hand slipped to your clit, stimulating you further, if it weren’t for his hand keeping your body in place, you would’ve collapsed form the overwhelming pleasure.

Just as you were about to reach your high, Jaemin pulled out.

“What the fuck, Jaemin?!”

“You want to cum? Beg for my dick. Beg for it like the cockslut you are.”

“No!”

“Suit yourself then, I’ll just jack myself off like I always did.”

You were beyond mad, the anger pumping new found adrenaline and energy into you.

You pushed Jaemin down flat on his bed and straddled him, smashing your lips against his as you sink down onto his cock harshly, the sudden pleasure clouding Jaemin from forming any incoherent thoughts on how to fight for dominance, his body submitting to your will.

You bounced on his cock with a feral speed, the anger, stress, and pent-up frustrations leaving your mind every time Jaemin’s cock brushes against your sweet spot.

Jaemin’s hands were loosely hung around your waist, hardly taking in anything other than the pleasure he was receiving, his eyes lolled back into his head, lips agape.

You moved one of your hands secured around his shoulder to his throat, closing off most of his airway, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

“Tell me how you feel, Jaemin. Can’t? Cat caught your tongue? Or are you just too far gone when I’m fucking you dumb?”

You loosened your hold on his neck and smashed your lips against his as you cum after fucking yourself onto his cock one last time, Jaemin followed soon after, his head throwing back from all the immense pleasure he was receiving, a muted but still audible pretty little whine leaving his swollen lips.

You and Jaemin’s hips rocked against each other, riding out both your orgasms. Your body crashed down on his after milking out your high, Jaemin’s hands once again held onto your hips, his head on top of yours, basking in the after sex glow.

“I wanted to take you out on a date before any action, guess we mixed up the stages.”

You sit up from Jaemin’s sudden confession.

“I thought you didn’t like me.”

“You had every right to be annoying to me, I was a jerk and I’m sorry for causing you to lose sleep because of my music. I promise I’ll use headphones next time.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Now about that date...

“Tomorrow, lunch, 12 p.m. , Marco’s. Don’t be late.”

“Won’t ever miss it for the world.”

763 notes · View notes

n0-eyedtaissa · 3 years

Text

The Times They Are a-Changin’ (Little Brother!Sweet Pea)

A/N: Happy graduation to our class of Riverdale High School, and welcome back Sweet Pea even though you said like ten words during the episode. You looked great in the background, buddy. Here’s a little something about Ruthie and Sweet Pea and how they’re reacting to his graduation.

Word Count: 6,508

tagging @hughstheforcelou @reggiemantleholdmyhand-tle @humangrumpycat @brittanyvengeance, and @thecaptainsgingersnap for encouraging me to post!

The winds of change had been blowing in Riverdale as of lately with students and parents alike crossing off the calendar days until graduation. It was a constant bittersweet reminder with banners going up in store windows congratulating the graduating class of Riverdale High School, baker cakes being custom-ordered with names written in black icing cursive. Ruthie can’t help but feel a bitter tug at her chest as she pushes the shopping cart across the grocery store, checking off the mile-long list of ingredients that Maria and Atzi needed to make food for the big party. Ruthie tosses a few more items into the wobbly metal cart and makes her way to the checkout stand, trying not to be impatient as she waited. There’s a handful of people in front of her in line, mothers buying last minute ingredients for favorite meals to be eaten as a high school graduate, a gaggle of teens seeing if their fake IDs were actually good enough to buy a case of cheap beer to bring to whatever party was inevitably happening that weekend. Ruthie thumbs through the rack of cards propped up by the register and plucks out one with a lot of space to write in.

When she was out of the grocery store (with significantly less money in her pocket), Ruthie is overcome with this sudden feeling of “rightness”. She doesn’t have to worry about pinching pennies and stretching paychecks to make ends meet any more, she no longer feared trips to the grocery store and the always looming threat of her card being declined at the cash register when she had a basket full of items. Ruthie did what she was supposed to do: she took care of her brother Sweet Pea, took care of herself, and kept a roof over both of their heads. And despite all of the bullshit that the two of them have faced in their short amount of years, Sweet Pea was graduating. And at the end of the summer he and Fangs were packing up Dante’s old truck and driving it upstate, where they’d settle into their own apartment before their first week of college. Ruthie is overcome with a sudden burst of pride for herself and for her brother, their resilience and fighting strength. Growing up was scary but they did it, even when it wasn’t easy and every fiber of their being was telling them they weren’t gonna get anywhere any ways, so they may as well give up now. But Ruthie and Sweet Pea never did.

After she drops off the groceries for the Abuelas, Ruthie is panting when she bounds through the front door to the Soh-Peterson trailer, swearing up a storm after having to carry so many bags up and down the driveway and putting everything away in its rightful place.

“God, Maria is a pack-rat, I swear!” The sound of Ruthie tossing her keys onto the linoleum counter is enough to startle Sweet Pea, who had been mindlessly ripping out papers and assignments from his old binder. “Every time I have to go shopping for her I come home feeling like I need a drink…”

“If you’re offering, will you bring me one?” Sweet Pea smirks.

Ruthie huffs in response. “If I do that, will you also bring me whatever shirt you’re wearing for the ceremony tomorrow so that I can be sure to iron it?” She heads into the kitchen to fill up a pot of water to boil. She was making spaghetti with extra oregano, Sweet Pea’s favorite.

He heads into his bedroom for a quick moment and returns with a wrinkled dark blue dress shirt. He holds it up to Ruthie. “Do I have to wear a tie?” It’s such an innocent question that Ruthie cant help but laugh.

“Do you want to wear a tie?” Sweet Pea shrugs at his sister. “There’s that handful of Dad’s that we kept in the hall closet if you want to look through those. And for the love of god, please, anything but that ugly Christmas tie.” Ruthie turns to pour the dried spaghetti noodles into the boiling water and Sweet Pea hangs his choices over the door of the hall closet, in Ruthie’s line of sight so it wouldn’t be forgotten.

The two of them eat dinner together, with Sweet Pea trading anecdotes about his last day of high school through bites of warm bread and rich pasta. He tells Ruthie all about the school’s unearthed time capsule and what it held, tells her that there’s a whole spread in the yearbook dedicated to the Serpents (and that he’d have to show her all the good pictures of him). Ruthie smiles at her younger brother as she watches his eyes light up as he talks about the last few grueling moments of waiting for the seventh period bell to ring, officially signaling the end of the school day and his high school career.

“It was like everyone was holding their breath, you know? And when the bell rings everyone throws all of their stuff into the air, all of their papers, and everyone was hugging, going for high fives, it was weird—” Sweet Pea pauses to wipe away the red marinara sauce from the corner of his mouth. “Reggie comes at me for a bro-hug…I thought he was gonna pick me up off the ground!” He laughs and shakes his head. It was a moment that was a clear testament to growth, because a mere two years ago, if Sweet Pea and Reggie were in that close of proximity, one of them was gearing up to swing at the other.

“Definitely weird” .

Ruthie holds up her almost empty bottle of beer in a toast. “To your last day of high school.”

Sweet Pea clinks his bottle against hers and then takes their bowls and silverware to the kitchen to be washed without Ruthie needing to ask him. He rinses things off and washes them clean before handing them over to Ruthie to dry, a system that had been perfected after years of not so careful practice. When the dishes are done and put away, Sweet Pea retreats to his bedroom for the night and Ruthie doesn’t bug him. She knows that something like this can be a lot to process, especially for a person like him who isn’t really the biggest fan of change. Ruthie knows that sometimes you simply need a moment to sit with your emotions, whatever they may be. She waits patiently, can hear Sweet Pea talking to someone on the phone, Fangs maybe, so she waits a little longer. Ruthie sneaks out into the kitchen and opens the freezer, spends a few minutes spooning chunks of frostbitten chocolate chip ice cream into two mugs, one for her and one for Sweet Pea. When she hears him hang up the phone, Ruthie gives two quick taps on his bedroom door before she enters.

Sweet Pea’s sprawled out on his bed, legs tangled in the blankets that are barely hanging onto his twin sized mattress. His yearbook is next to him, filled with gleaming photo paper and inscriptions done in sharpie marker. The side of his left hand is smudged with pen ink and he’s trying to scribble his name in big graffiti letters onto the inside front cover of his yearbook. Sweet Pea sees that his sister came bearing ice cream so he smiles, sitting up and inviting Ruthie to rest on the foot of his bed. They clink their spoons together and each take way too big of a bite, fighting off brain freeze as Ruthie starts flipping through Sweet Pea’s heavy yearbook. No one says anything for a minute and they settle into a comfortable silence. Ruthie finds the section filled with senior portraits of the graduating class and can’t help but marvel at how both Sweet Pea and Fangs have grown.

“What time do you need to be there tomorrow?” Ruthie asks, sliding off of Sweet Pea’s bed and grabbing his empty, sticky mug. There was still a lot of work that Maria and Atzi needed help with before the graduation party for Fangs, Queenie, and Sweet Pea, and Ruthie was finding a weird sense of peace amongst the chaos.

“Seniors need to be in the gym by 4:30, and the ceremony starts at five o’clock so maybe get there at 5:15 so you don’t have to sit though the speeches”

“I’ll be there on time, don’t worry.” Ruthie laughs and leans her weight against the doorframe.

“Are you gonna sit with the Fogarty’s?” Sweet Pea asks, somewhat nervously.

“Of course I’m going to.” She reassures. “What, you think FP’s gonna save me a seat between him and Alice Cooper?”

Sweet Pea frowns at his sister’s joke but Ruthie thinks it’s hilarious.

“You’ll see me, don’t worry. The whole family is gonna sit together and cheer so loud for you three that you’ll be embarrassed”

“I won’t be embarrassed” Sweet Pea promised, almost forcefully, as though he needed to be sure his sister believed him.

Ruthie quirks up an eyebrow but chocks up the sudden outburst of emotion as a reaction to everything around Sweet Pea that was changing. She stands up straight, metal spoons clanging against the empty ceramic in her hands. “Try not to stay up too late, okay? You’re gonna have a long day tomorrow”

“Yeah, I gotta get my beauty sleep” Sweet Pea jokes, pulling his bed covers back up over his long legs.

“Gonna need it” Ruthie laughs over her shoulder as she makes her way back down the hallway to the kitchen. “And don’t forget to brush your teeth!” She turns the faucet on hot and pretends that she doesn’t hear Sweet Pea groan from the other room.

~~~

The morning of Graduation Day, both Sweet Pea and Ruthie wake up way before their alarms, anxiety already cold and pooling at the bottom of their empty stomachs. Sweet Pea manages to close his eyes for a few more minutes before being started awake again, feeling like he was running late, when he realizes that he has nowhere to be. For the first time in four whole years, Sweet Pea doesn’t need to spring out of bed and rush to get in the shower before Ruthie hogs all the hot water. He doesn’t have to worry about what time he needs to leave for school, or account how much time it’ll take to get to Riverdale High School all the way from the Southside. Sweet Pea didn’t have to worry about any of that because today, he was graduating high school.

When he gets to the kitchen, Ruthie is already there with a pot of coffee steaming and a stack of warm pancakes on a waiting plate. She laughs and gives him a sheepish smile, gesturing with the spatula to tell him to sit down. “Felt weird that we both weren’t running around each other trying to get ready to leave, so I decided to take advantage of all this time.”

“Thank you” Sweet Pea mumbles through a full mouth.

It was a rare day where the two siblings seemed to have nothing but free time. Ruthie makes a thick stack of pancakes and they both eat almost all of what’s on their plates. Sweet Pea washes the dishes and she dries, and by that time it’s only 10:45. They’re both too hopped up on coffee to even bother trying to take a mid-morning nap, and that’s how they end up watching a handful of episodes of The Price Is Right until Ruthie excuses herself to get in the shower. No one has to rush that day. No one is pounding on the door yelling about how they needed to get in the bathroom to finish getting ready, threatening bodily harm on one another. Ruthie takes time lathering her hair with shampoo and conditioner, relishing in the warm water that she actually got to enjoy. No one had anything to stress out about today. Ruthie gets out of the shower, takes her time, and Sweet Pea gets in. Ruthie irons his dress shirt and his tie and hangs them back up until he’s ready. The two siblings convene for half of an episode of some daytime talkshow until Sweet Pea complains that he’s hungry. Sweet Pea makes grilled cheese sandwiches for late lunch while Ruthie does her makeup in the living room. Sweet Pea leaves the pan and their plates in the sink knowing that later he’ll wash and Ruthie will dry.

“Pick up the pace a little bit, okay? It’s almost four and we’re probably gonna need to leave soon so you have a chance to find your friends and sit with them.” Ruthie breezes into Sweet Pea’s room, dressed up in a way that made her look older than she was, but not as old as she felt. She looks good in her blazer and her heeled boots, like a proud parent.

Sweet Pea is dressed but his shirt’s not tucked in and his tie is crooked. He stands in front of the mirror and tries to fasten his father’s old tie into a Windsor knot but his fingers are soo long and too clumsy. “Shit…” He mumbles and Ruthie can tell he’s getting frustrated.

She doesn’t have to say here let me, she simply gives her brother the same knowing look she always does and steps in front of him to refasten and straighten Sweet Pea’s tie for him. Ruthie smooths her hands over his shoulders, wiping away creases and floating motes of dust and lint. She takes a long look at him and realizes how much he’s grown to look like their dad, or the way that Ruthie remembered her dad looking in the few old photographs stashed in a shoebox somewhere in her closet.

“You look so handsome” She whispers, her voice tight in her throat as she tries to will away any hot tears from spilling.

“Oh c’mon, don’t cry, Ruth” Sweet Pea says with an uncomfortable laugh, stepping away from his watery-eyed sister. “Cause if you start crying, I might start crying and then what good does that do for either one of us?” Ruthie laughs and gives a big exhale as she tries to compose herself.

“God I feel like Maria” She laughs, thinking of the Abuelas and the wrinkled tissues they always seemed to pull out of nowhere. Ruthie can’t help but shudder as she remembers back when Dante graduated high school and how she was surprised that Maria and Atzi weren’t dehydrated from crying under the hot spring sun.

Sweet Pea takes a look at himself in the mirror, running his comb though his hair to gel it back into place with sticky pomade. His shrugs on his long, blue graduation robe and tucks his cap under one of his arms before giving himself a last once-over in the mirror with a sigh, like this was as good as it was going to get. Ruthie slings her heavy purse over her shoulder and soon the two siblings are making their way out the door and down the front steps of the house. Sweet Pea almost hits his head getting into Ruthie’s compact car, she laughs but he scoffs and pulls the ray-ban sunglasses out of her hair and puts them on for himself.

The drive across town to Riverdale High School was longer than usual, the long lines of cars all leading to the same place. Ruthie honks her car horn, if not because she thought it could make things go faster, but just because she could. Sweet Pea scrolls through radio static until he finds a station that’s playing some old Green Day song that he and his sister used to dance around to when they were younger. He bounces his knee along with the rhythmic thumping of the drums and Ruthie taps her fingers along on the steering wheel. Sweet Pea’s nervous, they both know it but neither one of them would admit that. He’s worried that he’ll trip when walking across the stage, that his long legs and the long silk gown will get the better of him.

“Just breathe” Ruthie nods, following the cars all turning towards the high school. She parks her car towards the back of the school’s parking lot and waits with Sweet Pea as he tries to coordinate where to meet Fangs and the rest of their friends.

Ruthie makes Sweet Pea stand out in front of the school sign to take pictures in his graduation garb and her sunglasses. She snaps a few silly ones but doesn’t make Sweet Pea stop to take that many smiling pictures, knowing that after the ceremony and at the party he’d be having to run away from Maria and Atzi and their too-fancy cameras, who wanted to take pictures of the youngsters just as much as they needed their help with figuring out which buttons do what. Sweet Pea finds the Fogarty-Abrejo clan easily, giving Queenie a one-shouldered hug and slapping Fangs on the back, flicking around the blue frilled tassel hanging off his graduation cap. Maria and Atzi are doting on the two young men, going to pinch their cheeks and straighten their collars. Chimalma is lecturing Queenie about making sure she zipped up her blue graduation gown like the rest of the other students, still somehow unaware of the fact that the more she told her daughter not to do something, the more it made her want to do it. Ruthie raises her eyebrow at Queenie and the girl winks in return.

“One picture, you three, then I’ll leave you alone until later I promise” Ruthie holds up her phone and gestures for Sweet Pea, Queenie, and Fangs to all get together. The three squish together, giving cheesy smilies that will one day end up in a photo album with years worth of other cheesy smiles. Fangs is still a head shorter than both Sweet Pea and Queenie so he stands on the toes of his dress boots, smiling bigger than either one of them like it could make up for his lack of height. Sweet Pea hooks his long arms around his friends and pulls them close for one last picture and Queenie holds up her graduation cap to make sure it’s in frame, the picture of her father decorating the back of her cap watching over her protectively.

Last pictures were taken, collars were straightened and hair was smoothed down. Mr. Weatherbee makes the announcement that all graduating seniors needed to report to the area behind the gym for attendance, and that parents, families, and other distinguished guests could make their way to their seats. “See you on the other side, little brother” Ruthie gives Sweet Pea a wink as she holds the door open for the older women.

Riverdale High School’s graduation was like all high school graduation ceremonies in the way that it as both long and boring, incredibly drawn out by speeches from principals and vice-principles, esteemed faculty, and the class valedictorian. Betty Cooper delivers a moving speech about innocence and growth, stressing the importance of taking the time to be young and have fun, especially in a town that was plagued with so much heartache. There’s not a dry eye in the house when the young woman takes to addressing all of the trauma she and her fellow students had faced when Riverdale had them all in it’s clutches: “And it’s not fair that so many of our classmates aren’t here to walk with us today. And it’s not right that same of our parents aren’t here to watch those of us who are.” This strikes a chord in Ruthie and she can’t help but think what it would be like if Major Chase Lang Soh was here to watch his son walk the stage to get his diploma, or wonder how loud Pallaton Abrejo would whistle when his daughter’s name was called, smiling as Queenie’s blue silken robe billowed out behind her, (still unzipped, much to her mother’s dismay). Pallaton would tell Queenie that he was proud of her, and that he thought she was pretty damn cool for not wanting to blend in with the ranks of her peers.

“I wish Dante got to be here tonight” Ruthie leans over to whisper in Maria’s ear. The older woman pats her hand in response, a reaction that Ruthie thought was rather odd for Maria, but Ruthie chocks it up to her not wanting to be the rude people whispering. Apparently Dante was busy with some project over in Centerville, but Fangs had a graduation card coming in the mail and he promised he’d try to convince Spyder and CD to all drive down with him some weekend pretty soon. At least that’s what Dante told Ruthie on the phone a few days ago when he told her he wasn’t coming to graduation.

Everybody sits up a little taller in their chairs once student’s names started to be called, shifting in their cold metal seats and craning their necks to find where their loved ones were sitting amongst the masses of students. Ruthie claps politely for some of the names that she recognized, people that Sweet Pea talked about or hung out with, friends of Fangs and Queenie’s that she’d been introduced to at family parties and summer barbecues. For the most part Ruthie is pretty bored, reading through the flimsy paper program and wondering what it was like for everyone back when she graduated high school over at Southside High. Neither Ruthie nor Sweet Pea got to have their parents present at their high school graduation, but the Fogarty family never made them feel unwelcome or like anything less than family. They had cheered loudly when Ruthie’s name had been called, whistling and yelling when she walked across the stage. Dante and CD both laughed, watching Ruthie’s eye twitch as the principal called for Ruthann Soh-Peterson. There may have been a smaller number of people to watch Sweet Pea, Queenie, and Fangs graduate, but just because they weren’t loved widely it didn’t mean they weren’t loved deeply.

After Principal Weatherbee’s time at the Farm (Edgar Evernever’s poorly disguised cult), he got super progressive and made it a point to tell all of the seniors that on graduation day they could go by whatever their chosen name was, nicknames included. Ruthie and Sweet Pea had talked about it a few weeks ago at dinner, the merits of going by his given name for the first and only time in his high school career. “Why would I?” Sweet Pea had asked his sister, stabbing his fork into an unsuspecting chunk of broccoli. It was the last time the two brought it up.

Their three names are called sequentially; Queenie Abrejo, Fangs Fogarty, Sweet Pea Soh-Peterson. The uproar of cheers for Queenie, Fangs, and Sweet Pea was so loud that it paled every other family’s reaction in comparison. Ruthie whistled loudly, two fingers in her mouth. The rest of their big, blended family cheered and shouted loudly, clapping loudly and tapping canes against the polished gym floor. The ranks of polished Northside parents stick up their noses at the spectacle and go back to giving fake-polite golf claps. The rest of the ceremony goes by in a flurry of names, students in blue silk gowns walking across the stage to shake hands with Weatherbee and get their diplomas as quick as possible so they could do the cliche cap toss before getting the hell out of dodge, never having to set foot in the halls of Riverdale High School ever again. Atzi’s snoring on Maria’s shoulder and is startled awake by the thunderous applause after the final concluding words. “It’s over?”

When the ceremony is over it isn’t too hard to spot Sweet Pea through the crowd. Ruthie picks through the throng of people and runs at her brother with her arms wide open.

“You did it! Oh, my little high school graduate” Ruthie laughs, snaking her arms around Sweet Pea’s middle and pulling him into a crushing hug.

“Little?” Queenie raises her eyebrow, smirking over at Ruthie as she finally shucks off her graduation robe, handing it off to her little sister who didn’t mind wearing it.

“I’m so proud of you” Ruthie says, releasing her grip on her brother. “I’m so proud of all three of you, you did it!”

“Yeah we did!” Sweet Pea says, hooking his arm around Fangs’s shoulder as the group trailed back to the car.

~~~

The pageantry of Graduation Day was for the parents, everyone knew this. But the graduation party was for everyone else, one of the more enjoyable rights of passage after finishing high school. That was the part Sweet Pea was excited for. After the ceremony he tosses his cap and gown in the backseat of his sister’s car and loosens his tie before Ruthie can even start the engine. The drive back to the Southside is comfortably quiet, like both Sweet Pea and Ruthie needed a moment to recharge their batteries before the festivities. Ruthie pulls the car into the driveway, gravel crunching under her tires, and soon the two of them are barreling up the front steps. Sweet Pea holds out his hand for Ruthie’s keys and unlocks the door quickly, like he couldn’t bare to be in his nice clothes a minute more.

“I won’t make you wear a tie but can you dress up a little? For the pictures?” Ruthie asks, yelling from the kitchen as she gathers up any last minute things she needed to bring over to the Fogarty’s. “Something with sleeves, perhaps?” The sarcasm in her voice is palpable and Sweet Pea laughs as he trades his dress shirt for something that felt a little bit more like him.

The siblings are in and out of their house in record time and Ruthie lets Sweet Pea drive her car the short distance to the Fogarty’s while she sits in the passenger’s seat, clutching onto the crockpot for dear life. There’s already a dull roar emanating from the backyard; someone was bringing a big setup of speakers and Queen had been crafting the perfect playlist for weeks. No one bothers to knock on the front door because it’s never locked any ways. Ruthie immediately gets pulled into the kitchen by Atzi, who thrusts an apron at her before she continued her mission to make more counter space.

“Go find your friends,” Ruthie calls over her shoulder to her brother. “Just remember that you owe me pictures!”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember…” Sweet Pea rolls his eyes and goes to sample one of the hors d’oeuvres but Atzi smacks his hand away with her trusty spatula.

The party continues and more kids show up, all connected to Fangs, Queenie, or Sweet Pea in some way or another. It’s loud and it’s rowdy in the way that parties at the Fogarty house always seemed to get. Everyone was smiling, laughing, and dancing, but the general sentiment among everyone was that they missed Dante’s presence among the family and that they all wished that he’d been able to stop by. Maria and Atzi had been surprisingly tight-lipped about the whole thing and Ruthie was starting to think there might had been some kind of falling out.

Ruthie leans in close to Atzi, who was stirring a bubbling pot of sauce on the stove, seemingly in her own little world. “Did Maria and Dante have an argument or something? Is that why he didn’t show up tonight?”

Atzi glances up at Ruthie and smiles wryly, like all old women who held lots of secrets often did. “Nothing of the sorts, my girl!” She tosses the kitchen towel over her shoulder and goes back to flitting around the kitchen, stirring this and that, making sure nothing burned or bubbled over. “You’re looking a little dehydrated, hon, why don’t you go out into the garage and get yourself something to drink?”

Ruthie doesn’t know if it’s a trick of the eye or if Atzi winked at her. She tries not to take offense to the comment, having thickened her skin after years of “helpful” comments from the people around her. Ruthie was just happy to be relieved of kitchen duty for a little while. Wiping her hands on a towel, Ruthie makes her way into the Fogarty’s garage and to the outside refrigerator to grab herself a soda. She paws through the bottles and cans on the shelves trying to find something but she doesn’t hear the side door open, nor does she hear the familiar footfalls as they approach her.

Ruthie turns around and is startled when she find herself face to face with none other than Dante Fogarty. “Oh!” Ruthie exclaims, her soda can slipping from her hands and rolling out of sight. “Oh, I thought you weren’t coming!” She starts toward Dante and flings her arms around his neck to bring him in for a hug that was long overdue.

“I wouldn’t miss this” Dante says, rubbing his large hand over his best friend’s back. “I’m his graduation present, you know?”

“Your ass had better come with a gift receipt then” Ruthie laughs and gives Dante a playful shove before laughing into an animated rant about how mad she was at him for making her sit through that boring-ass, long-ass graduation ceremony by herself. The two of them want to kill a few minutes talking. Hell, Dante and Ruthie would hide in the garage for the whole party if they could. It wouldn’t be the first time. Dante fills Ruthie in on how everything is going in Centerville. She asks follow up questions about CD and Spyder, laughs as Dante marvels about how good the food from their cousins’s food truck is. Ruthie tells Dante about her new promotion to shift leader at the Elderly Services Department of Riverdale General Hospital. Dante talks at length about his girlfriend Valentina, smiling in a way that Ruthie thought looked good on him. But no matter how much they talked about the present (or the future), it was hard not to be nostalgic for the past, especially tonight.

“Man, your ass was miserable at your graduation party” Dante chuckled, glancing over at Ruthie. He leans against Maria’s old boat of a car that was forever in the garage atop cement blocks. “I’m pretty sure you stood outside and smoked a whole pack of cigarettes until Romeo forced you to come and socialize with everyone”

“Yeah cause it was my graduation party, it was Angel’s and I was just tacked on” Ruthie finds a beer in the refrigerator and uncaps it, her lost soda can long forgotten.

Dante thinks back to the moment before he agrees. “You might be right” He thinks about it some more, remembering the debacle. “You’re onto something there, Ruth.”

When the two of them decide that they had hidden away for long enough, Ruthie sneaks a cigarette to buy just a minute more before dragging Dante inside and into the kitchen. “Hey look who I found!” She calls out loudly, trying to get people’s attention over the music and the conversation. The Abuelas, no longer having to be tight-lipped about Dante’s secret arrival, grabbed his face and kissed his cheeks, giving him spoon and forkfuls of almost-done food that needed tasting. Fangs hears the commotion from outside where he, Sweet Pea, Queenie, and Mabel had all teamed up for beer pong so he opens the screen door, poking his head inside.

“Dante, you made it!” Fangs exclaims happily as he sees his older brother sampling the appetizers that Maria made. He rushes into the kitchen to give Dante a hug and giving him a brotherly slap on the back.

“Aw c’mon, you know I’d never miss something like this!” Dante slings his arm around Fangs’s shoulder and walks back towards the backyard “Now who’s up on the BP table, I want next game!”

~~~

The party persists most of the evening. The Beer Pong tournament ends up being a big debacle, with family and friends gathering around to watch it all unfold. Dante and Fangs played against Ruthie and Sweet Pea. They win the game but Sweet Pea swears that they cheated so he insists on a rematch, only to lose once again. Ruthie and Dante play against Sweet Pea and Fangs and they win again, so by that time everyone’s teasing Sweet Pea about his bad aim. Everyone poses for pictures way longer than they actually wanted to. There was pictures of the graduates, of them and their friends, pictures of the Abrejo family, the Fogarty’s, and the Soh-Peterson siblings. Maria wanted pictures of Ruthie, Sweet Pea, Dante, and Fangs, pictures of her with each of her grandchildren. By the time the cameras are put away everyone’s cheeks hurt and they’re seeing spots from the bright flash against the dark evening sky. Everyone eats twice as much food as they should have, and Maria was already promising to send people home with Tupperware dishes filled with leftovers. Queenie and Mabel sneak slices of the big bakery cake before Chimalma was ready to cut it so they spend the next twenty minutes out front sitting on the curb trying to avoid her motherly wrath. She was still on the warpath about her daughter being the “Only girl in the entire graduating class who didn’t zip up her gown like she was supposed to,” as if that were a supposed to be a bad thing.

Ruthie shakes her head, smiling to herself as she watches Sweet Pea try to shake off Maria, who was following him around the yard with another plate of food and yelling about how “You two boys need to put some meat on your bones before we send you off to college!” Sweet Pea goes to sit by the fire pit, away from Maria and her constant comments. Dante’s roasting marshmallows, eternally determined to piss off Elena by getting Daisy all hopped up on sugar after feeding her s’mores. Ruthie puffs along happily on her cigarette, a healthy distance aware from the rest of the partygoers (Sweet Pea had already come up to her once that evening, pulling a cigarette out of her mouth and grinding it into the dirt under the toe of his big boots). She watches over the party carefully, thinking about how time has passed and how everyone has grown.

“You warm enough over here?” Ruthie asks, her hand coming to rest on Sweet Pea’s shoulder as she approaches where he’s sitting by the fire pit.

He jumps a little, dropping the long wooden stick he was using to prod at the fire logs. “I’m fine” He replies with an eye roll.

Ruthie sits down heavily in one of the plastic lawn chairs than were posited throughout the yard, but loses her balance because of a wobbly, weathered leg. She laughs loudly as he recovers, her blood pumping in her ears. “You don’t have to be so grumpy about it” She teases, bumping his knee with her own.

“I’m not being grumpy!” Sweet Pea retorts, clearly still on edge from Maria’s overbearing attention and affection.

“Is it because you’re cold?” Ruthie raises an eyebrow at her not-so-little brother, already knowing his answer.

“I just graduated high school, Ruth, you don’t have to treat me like I’m some baby…” Sweet Pea shoes his head and brings his long-necked bottle of beer to his lips, taking a hearty sip.

“Oh but you’re always gonna be my little baby!” Ruthie coos with fake, overbearing sweetness and goes to ruffle Sweet Pea’s hair in the annoying yet endearing way that only older sisters seem to have mastered.

Sweet Pea’s scowl breaks into a smile and he rolls his eyes, letting his sister muss up his hair and dote on him just a little longer. He slides his arm around her shoulders and revels in her body heat and the familiar, comforting smell of her lavender shampoo.

“So what do you wanna do with your last summer before college, kid?”

“I hadn’t really thought about it, honestly.” Sweet Pea muses. “Need to find a job so I have a little bit of rent money saved up.” He always thought practically, tethered to the tangible things he needed in order to get by in life. It might have been a trait he picked up from Ruthie, actually.

“You have all summer to work” Ruthie looks over at her younger brother. “You gotta do something fun this summer, okay? Me and you, we’ll go somewhere just us.”

Sweet Pea laughs, his brows creased in both confusion and amusement. “Okay…where are we gonna go?”

“Anywhere…I mean, anywhere my car can get us. Or maybe we rent a car and go up the coast, spend a week at the beach before I send you off to the real world.”

“Sounds nice” Sweet Pea nods in agreement, staring into the fire. “What about the money though, Ruth? A trip like this sounds expensive.”

“You don’t have to worry about the money, kid.” Ruthie sighs, and for the first time in a long time she actually means that. “You deserve way more than this, okay? It’s the least I can do. Nothing’s set in stone now so just promise me you’ll think on it, okay?”

Sweet Pea nods. “I promise”

“I love you, and I’m so proud of you” Ruthie says firmly, as to make sure there was no way for Sweet Pea to slither in and discredit himself and his experiences.

The two siblings sit like that in front of the fire for a while, limbs tangled together, both too old to be twisting their bodies to accommodate for the other’s needed space. Ruthie gives Sweet Pea a rare, quick kiss on his forehead and the two siblings untangle themselves, laughing about who’s old rocket chair would break first. Things get quiet again for a little, just like the party had, bit after a few minutes Sweet Pea speaks up,

“Hey Ruth?” He hesitates, sounding somewhat embarrassed.

“Hmm?”

“Where’s my jacket?” Sweet Pea asks, wincing, already prepared for his sister’s onslaught of I-told-you-so’s.

Ruthie’s eyes blink open quickly, her facing having been turned towards the warmth of the fire that cracked and rippled with every gust of the evening wind. “In the trunk of my car” She laughs, tossing him her keys. Sweet Pea fumbles the catch because of his cold hands and walks towards the car, rubbing his hands over his arms.

“That boy’s gonna be absolutely lost without you” Dante laughs, rounding the fire pit and sitting down.

Ruthie shakes her head and disagrees. “I think he’s gonna be just fine.”

#little brother! sweet pea #sweet pea x ruthie #sweet pea x oc #riverdale sweet pea #sweet pea imagine #oc: ruthie soh peterson #oc: literally ALL of lou's are mentioned #and some of vannah's

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fanfics-for-the-hockey-fan · 4 years

Text

My Treasure - William Nylander

Request: Can you do one where you are pregnant with William nylanders baby and getting hate and he makes you feel better

Getting pregnant at 24 was definitely not a part of my 5 year post college plan. Then again falling in love wasn't one of my bullet points either. But when my period was over a week late I knew that everything was about to change. William was thrilled when he saw the bolded word on the pregnancy test, immediately wanting to tell anyone he could. I was a little more hesitant to share the news.

I knew that I wanted children someday and those feelings intensified once my relationship with William became serious, I just figured we would be married and I would be a little more secure in my teaching job before we would add a baby to the mix. We told our families first and they were all excited and happy for us, same with friends and teammates. The real problem came when we started to share the news with the rest of the world. On William's social media everyone was happy for us and wishing us well, but mine is where all of the hate went.

She probably got knocked up so he couldn't leave her.

Hopefully you don't gain too much baby weight, you could already stand to lose a little.

You're not even pregnant with his kid I bet, just went to the guy with the biggest paycheck.

I did my best to delete the comments as soon as I saw them, hiding them from William so he wouldn’t get upset. Some people didn't get the hint after the first deleted comment and I would end up blocking them. Two weeks after announcing our pregnancy the nasty comments were outweighing the nice ones of my post. My pregnancy hormones went crazy one day when my pants didn't fit for the first time of the pregnancy and William was away on a road trip until the morning.

I canceled my plans to go get dinner with some friends and instead had a pity party in some of William's clothes with ice cream and reading through all the horrible things that were being said about me.

I can't believe he is still with her, she is not pretty enough for him.

Fat cow

You are going to ruin his career with the child.

I cried myself to sleep on the couch after midnight and didn't wake up until someone was brushing some hair out of my face. Slowly opening my eyes I saw a concerned William kneeling on the floor in front of me. "Ellie, what’s wrong? Were you crying?" I sat up, making room for William next to me before he pulled me into his lap. "Your friends texted me last night and told me you skipped on going to dinner with them. Is everything okay? Is the baby okay?"

"The baby is fine, I just couldn't find anything that fit comfortably with the bump. I had a pity party with ice cream and must have fallen asleep." Everything I said was true, I just left out one major thing.

"I'm sorry babe, but can I finally buy you some new maternity clothes? Please." He gave me puppy dog eyes as he begged, causing me to laugh and turn to face him more.

"You love shopping more than I do."

"Is that a yes? I'm taking that as a yes. Go get ready, shopping might take all day." With that he was carrying me down the hall, laughing the entire way. When he finally set me down I managed to find a t-shirt dress that wasn't too uncomfortable and proceeded to get ready.

***

After a full day of shopping William took me out to dinner at our favorite Spanish restaurant. I excused myself after we ordered a bunch of small plates to share to run to the bathroom and when I got back William was standing at the table with a large plastic bag and shaking hands with the owner. "What's going on?"

"I thought you might be more comfortable if we went home and ate. I've kept you busy most of the day so I know your feet must be bothering you." His tone was off but I brushed it off as we headed out. The drive home was a tense silence without even the radio playing.

I didn't say anything until we were in the apartment and William started slamming cabinet doors as he got plates. "What's wrong?"

"I just don't get why people spend so much time trying to make other people down! Like, what does it do for them?" He had a fire in his eyes I had only ever seen on the ice, and I wasn't sure what was causing it.

"I'm going to some more context here. Did something happen at the restaurant?"

"Before we left the last store I took a couple of pictures for our shopping day and posted them to Instagram. I thought it was no big deal, just sharing what I was up to on a day off. And then when you were in the bathroom your phone started buzzing like crazy so I thought someone was trying to call you. But all of your notifications were for Instagram, and I know I shouldn't have opened the app on your phone but I thought maybe it was your girlfriends' group chat and Sophie finally got engaged." I let out a small chuckle at that, we basically were taking bets on when her and her high school sweetheart would finally take the next step.

"I'm guessing that isn't what you saw." I knew what he was going to say next but I was hoping with every fiber of my being that I was wrong.

"No, I saw the worst of humanity in your DMs. I just- how can people be so cruel?" William slumped into the bar stool next to me at the island as I reached for my phone having to see what was sent to me now. "Ellie…" I ignored his worried warning as I opened up the app, going to my DMs.

Fat cow, you only got pregnant so that you could lock in some who is far too good for you. I hope he sees he could do so much better and kicks you out before that baby ruins his career and life!

So you are just using him for his money. I bet the baby isn’t even his, probably a teammate who makes less. Whore!

Bitch, why are you even with Willy? He is a literal hockey god and from what i can tell you are just some stupid high school math teacher. He can do so much better than you.

There were over 50 messages just like those, all sent within the last hour. I didn't even dare look at the comments on my latest post, even though it was a few days old the braver trolls put their nasty messages there for the whole world to see.

"How long has this been happening?" I had hopped off my stool, going to plate up the food we brought home and trying to avoid the conversation I knew we needed to have. "Ellie… Please talk to me. How long?"

"Honestly, since we started posting that we were dating. It's gotten worse since we posted that we are gonna be parents."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because part of me thought that if I just deleted the messages and comments that it wasn't real. That if I was the only one who knew that I could just pretend that it was all in my head. Then there is that stupid voice in my head that likes to play up my insecurities, that made me feel like if you saw what people were sending me that you would believe it. And I know that thinking that is stupid and unrealistic but it can sometimes be the loudest thing in there." William also got off his stool, coming to stand right in front of me. He kissed my forehead before cupping my cheeks and holding eye contact.

"Min skatt, never feel like you have to hide this from me. You are the one I am in love with and want to spend the rest of my life with. You are the only one that can make me smile and laugh when I am in a bad mood after a game. You are the only one I see myself growing old, and possibly bald with." I let out a gasp at the word bald, he was so protective about his hair.

"See, the rational part of me knows all that."

"Well, let me make it clear to every part of you. I love you with every fiber of my being and as soon as I meet with your father next week to ask for his blessing, I will be asking you to marry me."

"Will…"

"But I am going to need you to act surprised when I ask." That got a small chuckle out of me.

"I'll do my best." William's stomach growled then, making both laugh. "Let's eat before your stomach starts communicating with us again." William just nods, a thoughtful look on his face that I'm sure would cause problems later but right now I just wanted to live in the happy moment.

After reheating the food and settling at the kitchen island to eat, I went through and deleted all the DMs and comments. I barely registered what they said as I deleted. What I didn't know was Will was looking at the comments as I deleted before pulling out his own phone. It was only when my phone buzzed with another notification that I found out what he was doing.

@williamnylander tagged you in a post

The post was two pictures side by side; the first was from our first date at a Christmas market, all bundled up and snuggled into each other as we took the photo in a mirror. The other picture was a selfie he took of us at my last doctor's appointment for the pregnancy, both of us were all smiles as I sat on the exam table with a picture of the sonogram on the screen behind us.

Two pictures of the love of my life. One from our first date, where I was a clutz and spilt hot chocolate all over her light grey coat and she still agreed to a second date. The other from a few weeks ago when we got another look at our baby.

I can say without any doubt that having Ellie in my life has only made it better. She has become my sounding board for when I'm frustrated, my motivation to score more goals, and my ray of sunshine on any cloudy day.

I knew from that first date that Ellie was the one for me, no one can tell me otherwise. And now she is carrying our first child. My heart continues to grow and fall in love with this amazing, kind, dedicated, caring, loving, and perfect woman each day.

I am so lucky to spend time with you each day and anyone who says otherwise is wrong and jealous of what we have.

Min skat, I am so excited to watch our family grow and experience the joys and challenges of parenthood with you. Ellie I love you and can't wait to see where we go next.

Together.

The tears started flowing before I even read the caption, the pictures enough with my pregnancy hormones. But the words William managed to write push me over the edge, I was crying at the love he put into the words but also laughing at the not so subtle 'fuck you' to all the nasty people who sent you messages.

"Did I overstep? I don’t want to embarrass you."

"It's perfect. You're perfect. I love you."

"I love you too, and I plan on showing you that everyday. Even if it is something as simple as an Instagram post."

"It's not just the post, it's that you are saying to all the people who see your pictures and then come trash talk to me that you know about them. And that will probably stop some of them from doing it again. And anyone who doesn't get the message gets blocked."

"Good. Now, let go watch some TV and cuddle." Nodding grabbing my plate of food, following William to the couch before curling into his side.

As William pulled up the next episode of a show we were binging, I thought of something. "You never have told me what 'min skat' means."

"It means 'my treasure'. And it reminds me how lucky I am every day to have you in my life."

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theshisthings · 3 years

Text

I wanted to write this for a while now and I finally did it. It's about Best Jeanist and Gang Orca as kids

Info you probably need: they are 7, Kugo is an orphanage and this is about the days that changes everything for both of them.

Where was he? Kugo looked at the clock, again and again. The minutes past. It was getting late. Tsunagu was never late. Why wasn't he here already? Maybe he was ill? But then he would have been informed about that. Tsunagu always made sure he knew where he was. But today nothing. He wasn't there and school was starting in only a few minutes. That's not like him. Kugo was starting to worry. He looked at the clock again then to the door. Nothing. Damnit Tsunagu where are you? The bell rang, their teacher came. But still no Tsunagu. Something was wrong. Kugo could feel it. Should he talk to the teacher? The door opened and an out of breath and stressed looking Tsunagu came in. "I apologize for being late. Todays morning was a bit troublesome. It won't happen again." The teacher just smiled at Tsunagu "It's fine. You are usually punctual. Go to your seed." Tsunagu nodded and went to his seat next to Kugo. Kugo patterns him. Tsunagu hadn't done his hair, that was unlikely for him. He always did his hair. And there was this smile… he looked more than just happy. A bit overjoyed, like nothing could ruin his mood today. "Where have you been? I was starting to worry!" He whispered towards Tsunagu. "I'm sorry we overslept a little." He was still grinning. Strange… "But you never oversleep." "There is a first time for everything." "But it's so unlike you. I mean you haven't even done your hair." "Yes I know, but that is not important right now" Not important? Who was that and what happened to Tsunagu. "I have something important to tell you!" And why the hell was he grinning so much? His best friend was surely acting strange today. "What is so important that your hair is unimportant to you? Your hair is always the most important thing to you." Tsunagu opened his mouth. "Kugo, Tsunagu would you please pay attention to the lesson. You can talk during break." "Yes ma'am." Tsunagu said politely, but rolled his eyes, just a second later. Wait he rolled his eyes to a teacher? He never does that. School was always important. Nearly as important as his hair. Tsunagu was sure acting strange today. But Kugo would have to wait until break. Still during the lesson he had an eye on his friend. Because he was sure acting strange. He was constantly manipulating the fibers of his clothes. He sure was excited about whatever.

Finally it was time for break. Kugo grabbed his bag to get his food, like every breakfast, but apparently Tsunagu didn't have the patience to wait until he had it. He just pulled him out of the classroom to their usual corner. "Tsunagu my food!" "Forget your food! You are going to be way to excited to eat!" "Why should I?" "Because they said yes!!!" Kugo blinked at him. "What?" Tsunagu looked disappointed. Apparently he should know what his friend was talking about, but he didn't. "I talked to my parents yesterday and they said yes!" "Wait you mean...you are talking about...about what we talked about yesterday?" Tsunagu nodded heavily. "Yes!!!!" "No way!!! Are you serious?!" "Of course I am! I wouldn't lie to you! When I asked my parents they told me they already thought about adopting you, since we spend the whole day together anyways and they see you as their son anyways, but they weren't sure if you would want that. But when I told them that you would like to actually live with us, they said yes right away!" "You mean we are going to be brothers?!" "Yes! We will be brothers!" Kugo just had to hug him. That were the best news ever! His best friend was going to be his brother soon! He was going to be adopted! No longer getting bullied in that orphanage! A home with people who he loved and who loved him! He couldn't believe it! Wrong! He could believe it! He had always dreamt of it! And Tsunagu had always been his best friend. The only kid that wasn't afraid of him. And his parents had been so kind to him, like he was a child of their own. Now he would finally he a part of the family too, not that there would be much of a difference. He would just live with them and the Hakamantas would be his family by law. For the rest of the day Kugo couldn't concentrate on anything, neither could Tsunagu. They were just so happy! Tsunagu had said that his parents were going to fill out his adoption papers tomorrow since they had work to do. He wished it would be today, but he would manage to wait a day more.

The next day came and Kugo was way to early, but hey he couldn't sleep all night. He was far to excited. Just a few hours of school and then he would finally have a family! Again he had to wait for his best friend (soon his brother!!!). Minutes passed. His classmates and bullies came. No Tsunagu. More minutes passed. More classmates came. Still no Tsunagu. Had he overslept again? He wasn't going to make a habit out of it, was he? The minutes passed. The bell rang. The teacher came. Still no Tsunagu. Come on, he couldn't be that late. Their teacher counted the students. "Okay nobody is missing. We can start." Kugo was confused. "What about Tsunagu?" One of his bullies turned around to him. "Oh you don't know it yet. That fiber idiots parents were killed by a villian last night. Chances are high that that fiber idiot ist dead as well!" He laughed and Kugo felt his world crash.

#school #kugo sakamata #tsunagu hakamata #adoption #best jeanist #gang Orca #they are adorable kids #Tsunagu is that kid in class that every teacher loves and he can answer you every question #Kugo gets bullied as a kid because he looks like a villian

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lollercakesff · 3 years

Text

Home Bound

Survive. Escape. Go home? To what home?

Jyn and Cassian escape from Scarif and settle on a small planet in the outer rim where the traditions are vibrant and the Rebellion barely scratches at their front door. Years pass, they live. But then the scratching at their door gets heavier, and heavier, and soon there’s a knock that calls them back into the service. They go because to say no would go against their very fiber, but when everything they’ve come to know disappears, how do they remember what they’re fighting for?

Survive. Escape. Go home. Right?

A gift for the Rebelcaptain Secret Santa gift exchange for @youareiron-andyouarestrong!

Read it all on AO3!

Part One:

Step 1: Survive.

Step 2: Get off Scarif

Step 3: Get back to Yavin V

Step 4: …. Step 4?

They make it through steps one through three and he doesn’t understand how exactly it happens. One second he’s on a beach and the sky's alight and the heat is almost unbearable but for her body wrapped around his… Next, he’s tucked in a medbay bed on a ship with his hand wrapped up in Jyn’s, her grip tight despite the soft breaths filling his room. He doesn’t know what’s supposed to come next and for once, maybe he’s okay with that.

And so he pulls her hand closer and ignores the twinge in his spine as he wraps himself around her, unwilling to let the heat from before eat him alive like his mind is convinced it will.

---

They settle on Calabriana, a small planet in the Outer Rim where nobody knows their names. The anonymity was a requirement after Scarif, after the desolation of Yavin V, after Hoth.

Cassian and Jyn had stuck around the Rebellion after Scarif to fight and it had been years of it, endless days of missions that had picked at their open wounds until one day - a day like any other - Cassian had come back to his bunk to find Jyn curled up in his cot, shivering and vacant.

“Jyn?” Cassian breathes, hesitating at his door. It wasn’t that she was here, in his room, which made him pause. Nor was it finding her in his bed, even though they never explicitly talked about that . No, the panic in his chest wasn’t any of those things. It was the look on her face, the way it didn’t flicker to life like it normally would. Something was wrong. “Are you alright?”

She doesn’t respond, not verbally at least. All she does do is close her eyes until her brow furrows and her breathing seems to stop under his inspection. It's enough to bring him to her side, his hand coming to her cheek as he drops to his knees beside her.

“Come back to me,” he whispers softly, the words unfamiliar on his lips.

They had always been her words, murmured into his temple after a bad dream, after a mission went sideways and she had to come find him. Her fingers on his chin, her cheek pressed to his brow so he didn’t have to hide his pained expression.

“Jyn, come back,” he repeats and her eyes blink open, flickering up to meet his. He exhales a shaky breath and slides his thumb along her jaw. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shakes her head and he follows as she pulls him into the bed, her small frame tucking into his chest as though she was set to disappear into him.

An hour passes. Then two. It’s late when she whispers what she needs, the feeling resonating within him like a ricocheted gunshot.

“I can’t be here anymore. I need to leave. Come with me?”

He doesn’t think before he utters his reply: “Yes.”

It’s two days later that they’re boarding their ship, the half-repaired K2SO droid packed away and their small bag of worldly possessions fastened in the hold.

Leia had come to say goodbye, as had Draven and Bodhi and Kes. Their small farewell had gone mostly unannounced. The heroes of Scarif disappeared into the sky, almost as though their lives in the Rebellion after Scarif were but ghosts haunting hallways. Maybe they had been.

---

Life on Calabriana was hard. Not in the sense of working themselves to death or being required to go on high risk missions every day like an endless rotation of pain and misery. No. It was hard in the way that living a quiet life after so much suffering was hard. It was the silence, and the calm way that life moved like a snake in the grass, weaving and slithering through time until it rounded in and tried to consume itself.

At first, Cassian was sure they’d made a mistake. His hours helping build a home were well spent, yes, but the nights were almost unbearable. There was no intel to keep his mind occupied when the nightmares wouldn’t cease, no halls to endlessly walk until he fell asleep on a crate or in a corner hidden from view. On Calabriana, there was only silence and the creak of the floors under his feet, Jyn’s bedroom door always closed as he debated raising his fist and disturbing her sleep. He doesn’t, at least not until one day she pulls it open and reaches for his hand, drawing him into her room and into her bed.

Neither of them say it out loud but every sleepless night from that night on - and even some in between - ends with finding solace in one another’s arms. And then one night, as Cassian hovers in her doorway as she readies for sleep, he straightens and finally pulls himself together.

“I don’t want to sleep in my own bed anymore,” he admits, cautious and low.

“I thought we already gave up on that idea,” Jyn answers evenly, pulling her work top over her head and tugging one of his old shirts from her drawer to use as a nightshirt. The hem hovers mid-thigh and he forces himself not to stare even though his whole body lights with the familiar draw of her.

“Really?” He counters and she lifts a brow in reply. In another second she’s standing before him, hands on her hips in challenge.

“Really. I asked you to leave the Rebellion with me and you did. I never really understood why you thought you needed to sleep in another room but I wasn’t going to push you. Figured you’d come around eventually.”

“You mean you were already at this point and I’ve been the one holding back?” The thought surprises him, all of the signals for the reality of their arrangement finally falling into place. Oh .

“Maybe,” she smirks and he sighs, reaching for her hips and drawing her close to his chest. The kiss is anything but chaste and in the morning when they wake - wrapped around one another like vines on a lush jungle planet - they don’t talk about how things have changed and what it means, instead choosing to simply share a room like it was a practical merging of resources.

---

Sharing a room becomes sharing a life. They work the fields together, go to town together, and when the nights are particularly cold with the seasonal change they cling and make their own heat together.

Their first few months on Calabriana pass uninterrupted by guests until one night there’s a knock on their door, a stricken look passing over Jyn’s face as Cassian gets up from where he’s settled with a story and his tea. He hesitates at the door, sucking in a breath, before he pulls it open to see a small crowd of humanoid beings huddled outside in elaborate colourful costumes. The sight makes him uneasy until one takes a breath.

And then they start to sing.

It’s maybe only five minutes. Maybe ten. Before the group nods and bids their farewells, walking off into the night as Cassian shuts the door and turns back to face Jyn who looks just as confused.

“Local greeting committee?” Jyn offers with a shrug. Cassian nods and returns to his seat, picking up his reading and trying not to think about the odd encounter.

A few days later and Jyn and Cassian venture to town, their eyes wide as they come upon the village now lit with endless flickering lights and colours all strewn about the streets. All around them people are rushing from shop to shop, arms loaded with bags and bright smiles on their faces.

“What's going on?” He asks the supply clerk nonchalantly, his attention turned towards his chip card as he swipes it across the reader.

“It’s the season of Jule. A time of gathering and well-wishing. Have you never experienced a Calabrianan Jule before?” Cassian shakes his head and glances over to where Jyn is running her fingers along a scarf on display, her lips quirked up in a small smile. “Well, it is a wonderful time to be here. You must attend the feast. Three days from now in the market - bring your partner and gift her that lovely piece she’s admiring - it’s tradition.”

“How much for it?” Cassian asks by way of thanks. The man adds the cost to his bill and promises to wrap the gift up ahead of the festival.

Cassian doesn’t know what he’s promised to attend - was the feast a sacrificial ceremony or truly a happy occasion, he wasn't sure - but he isn’t concerned. None of the research he’d managed to dig up on this planet had talked about ritual sacrifice, so they’d probably be fine.

He hoped, at least.

---

The day of the feast, Cassian has to challenge Jyn to a competition to get her out of the house. She's too busy lounging like a Lothkat, curled up under a blanket as she enjoys her tea and hides away from the chill that has settled outside.

"I'll do the dishes for a week if you win. If I win, you have to come with me to town later," he offers, tweaking her toes with his fingers until she grins and pulls them out of his grip.

"Fine. Get the dice."

He wins by sheer luck, or at least that's what he tells himself as she rolls another snake-eyes. Two hours later and they're back in town, coming upon the small community at dusk. The lights flicker across the growing darkness and Cassian swears he can see stars in Jyn's eyes, her look of awe beautiful and serene and so far from the haunted look she'd worn the day she asked him to leave with her.

"They say there's a feast," Cassian says easily, starting to lead them forward and through the small alleys towards the market. Jyn sticks to his side and keeps her hand curled in the fabric of his pocket, holding on as they weave between groups of people, little families sprawling across swaths of space.

"A feast of what, exactly?" Jyn counters evenly, though there's no harshness to her words.

"Not sure. But the guy at the shop said we should come and I figured… if we're going to settle here we might as well try to follow some of their customs to blend in. Unless - "

"No, you're right. We can keep to ourselves but I think eventually we need to engage a bit. Good call," she adds. Cassian laughs tightly and reaches for her hand, pulling it into his own.

"Don't congratulate me yet, we've still got to survive tonight."

They arrive into the bustle of the market and are stopped short by the sight they come upon. It's like Home Base after a victory, the crowd thriving and music filling the space around the shouts of excitement. A giant tree fills the center of the square, its bows filled with lights and ornaments that sparkle and glint in the changing light. Around them, children chase each other and adults fill tables with food and drink and laughter. It feels foreign to stand on the edge, looking in at a community that wasn't theirs.

"You made it!" The clerk greets, lifting himself from his table and beckoning them over. Cassian clutches tightly to Jyn's hand and seeks her approval with a glance, her returning squeeze urging them forward. "And you've brought your lovely partner. Sit! Join us!"

They're settled into seats at the crowded table and handed cups and a bottle of something tangy. Jyn seems to evaluate the substance before pouring herself some and dipping a finger in for a taste. Cassian watches as she frowns and then softens to an easy smile, eventually lifting to take a sip. With her approval, Cassian pours himself a cup and let's the man - Hinar, as he introduces himself - bring them up to speed on the celebration.

Twelve nights of celebration. Food, family, friends as a theme with occasional gifts given to each other on the last night. An ancient tradition brought from across the universe and combined into one massive festival celebrated around the small planet.

The whole thing awed Cassian, the joy and the brightness and the welcoming nature of everyone around them. He'd never seen Jyn laugh so freely and the lightness of it was contagious, filling him too and loosening his tension for the first time in months. This was a planet still untouched by war, its few resources and minimal population making it unattractive to those looking to bleed a planet dry. They would be safe here, he was sure of it, or at least that's what he told Jyn as they wandered home a bit tipsy and a bit light on their feet.

"I think we could build something here," he murmurs as she leans into his side, the navy scarf he'd gifted her wrapped loosely around her neck.

"What do you mean?" It's not accusatory and he thinks that's good, right?

"If… if you wanted to make something out of the rest of this life. Together. I think we could do it here."

She slows her pace as they linger in the yard, her gaze finding his in the low light.

"Are you asking me to - "

"Yes. Whatever we want it to be. But I want to build it. With you."

Her eyes stay locked onto his, the colours swirling in the low light as she chews the inside of her cheek. The silence is almost deafening and he nearly takes it back, the proposal burning the back of his throat.

But then she lifts up on her toes and reaches her arms around his neck, drawing him down towards her waiting lips.

"Yes," she whispers later into his chest, her body perched over his as he slowly comes down from his release. Her sweaty sticky skin slides across his and she wraps herself around him, their breathing coming into sync. “I want to build something. With you.”

He thinks maybe this was what Step Four was about, all those months ago.

#youareiron andyouarestrong #rebelcaptainsecretsanta #therebelcaptainnetwork #rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fic #lollercakes tries to write

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storysofmyown · 4 years

Text

Obey me! Scarred, Chapt. 7

Plot: It’s time for the next step in Diavolo’s plan to unify the realms. But, in order to work, the demons would be subjected to confront their worst fears, and in some cases, who they are.

Trigger warning: None that i can think of

Word count: 2377

“Ya got to be kiddin’ me, I ain’t gonna wear this weird…uh…um…shirt I guess? To the damn ball.” Mammon threw the garment at Asmodeous bed, who made a cartoonish shriek.

“Mammon! You idiot! Do you have any idea how long it takes to steam the wrinkles off? And you are not going to do it, so its me the one who has to put their skin at risk in that heat just because you can’t be careful.” Asmodeous took the piece of clothe and hanged it on his closet, making sure no wrinkle was visible.

“Whatever, I don’t care. I have more important things to be doing than playing dress up with you two.”

“Who said I was playing dress up?” Mc looked up from the bed, barely maintaining eye contact with Mammon.

“Then why are ya here?”

“You literally dragged me out of my room so I would accompany you here.” Mc sat down; their eyes now open but not focusing on anything. “Plus, Asmo said there would be wine, so.” Asmodeous laughed and stuck his tongue out at Mammon, who huffed and growled in response. “C’mon, just sit down. Everything in here has been so chaotic since…well, God arrived that Lucifer has a headache 24/7. We are the only ones acting normal.” Mc sighed, they were worried for the others, but the demos refused to talk about what had happen, what that caused them to act this way.

“That’s not true, Levi hasn’t left his room in three whole days. That’s very Levi of him.” Asmo gave Mammon a glass of wine before sitting on the bed. Mammon made a point of sniffing it in case Asmo put anything weird in it, before just chugging everything down in one go.

“That ain’t entirely true. The other day, I went to see Levi, and the dweeb wasn’t doing anything. And I don’t mean as in, wasting time playing games and shit, no, he was literally buried under at least seven blankets and was just starring at Henrys tank all the time. Barely even acknowledge me.”

“Is that so?” Prompted Asmo.

“I payed him a visit. There was no sound on or anything, I called him, and he just yelled for me to leave him alone. I want to help but how can I help when he won’t tell me what’s wrong?” Mc groaned; they loved the seven idiots. At this point they were family to Mc, and that meant what affected the boys affected them.

“That is a little weird of him. I mean, he would never reject anyone that offered to watch anime or play videogames with him.” Asmo refilled all the cups.

The three of them stayed silent for a moment. Asmodeous chewed on his lower lip before sighing.

“Has Satan talked to any of you?” Mammon and Mc shook their heads. “Me neither, I tried giving him a book the other day, and he literally threw it at my face. He is out of control.” Once again, silence, this time broken by Mammon.

“What about Belphie and Beel? I haven’t seen Beel eat more than half a plate of food for over a week now. He IS the Avatar of Gluttony. His whole thing is food.”

“We baked him some cupcakes to try and cheer him up. He didn’t even touch them.” Asmo replied, pointing at Mc and then at himself. “Like, I know they were probably not that good, but they were better than Solomon’s cooking, which mean Beel would normally have eaten them with no problem.”

“Belphegor hasn’t slept in days.” Mc starred at their now empty cup.

“How do ya know that?”

“He won’t leave my room. He has stayed with me for a couple days, every time I wake up, I see him awake. All he does is stare at a bracelet on his hand.” Mc looked up at Asmo and Mammon, they all had the same expression on their faces.

“Anyway,” Asmo tried to sound as chipper as possible, forcing a smile on his lips. “Mammon, you said you had some more important things to care about. What is that all about?”

“Oh, so you know that one-time Mc…Belphie and I working at Hell’s Kitchen?” Mammon’s voice went quiet when mentioning Belphegor before picking up the tone he had started the sentence with. “Well, the dudes still had my phone, and it seems that a customer wants me personally to do his delivery. And get this, they will pay whatever amount I demand, all so I, the Great Mammon deliver some food and stuff. Can you believe this?” Mammon rested his back on the backrest of the chair while taking a long sip.

“That sounds a little suspiciou-” Asmodeous was cut short by Mc’s tired voice.

“I’m worried about them.” Silence fell momentarily in the room. None of them daring to speak up. The situation was getting worse by the day, their family was hurting, and they didn’t even knew why. It was scary, knowing that people you loved were going trough something and not being able to do anything about it.

“So am I” Lucifer’s voice cut in, pulling a chair and taking a whole bottle of wine that had yet to be open.

“Oi! How long have you been listening in?” Mammon jumped at Lucifer’s voice before sitting straight in the chair.

“There was no need for me to “listen in”, you three were talking loud enough that I could hear it in the kitchen.” The bags under the man’s eyes were noticeable, he had a demeanor that screamed how little care the man was putting on himself. His form seemed weaker and his tone did not have the usual authoritative undertone. Lucifer popped off the cork of the bottle and took a long sip. He wasn’t wearing his usual coat, vest open and with no tie.

“Are you okay?” Mc asked, leaving their cup on the side. Lucifer only gave a dry sarcastic laugh before just looking at the ceiling.

“Am I okay? Of course, why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like ever since I saw my father’s face, I have been plagued with nightmares of him hurting another member of my family. Or the fact that when we are supposed to as closer as we can possible be, my brothers and my own son are more shut off than ever. Satan went back to hating me with every fiber of his being, Beelzebulb won’t talk to anyone, Belphegor and Leviathan have just shut off completely from the entire world.” Lucifer sighed, passing a hand through his hair.

Asmodeous felt tempted to take the bottle off from Lucifer, the man was not feeling well, and having him drunk would not do any good. He tried to do so, but Lucifer only shook his head, looking at Asmo, giving his younger brother a small smile before he caught Mammon starring. His expression was that of a child who had found out Santa Clause was not real, of a child whose hero turned out to be just a man who could get hurt, bleed, and die.

In all their years alive, Mammon had never seen Lucifer in such a helpless manner. It was like whatever drive had been keeping him functioning had met its limit, needed replacement or something. The man who was more of a father to any of them that their actual father could ever be, the man who, even though was the literal personification of pride, threw his reputation and believes away and damned himself to a life of servitude all so his little sister could have a shot at a normal life. Mammon would never say this out laud, but he appreciated how much Lucifer had sacrificed for their family.

“Lucifer, I-” Mammon was shushed when Lucifer put up his hand.

“I never told you two, or anyone else for that matter, about this but…after we fell, and Diavolo gave us this house, I promised myself I would do anything to keep my family together, because as long as I had you guys, I thought it would be okay. After all, we had gone through a hell of a war… and yet, somehow, we were still together, even if Lilith wasn’t there with us, I knew she was happy. And I wanted that for us as well, I wanted us to be happy. All of us.” Lucifer chuckled.

For a few seconds, after Lucifer finished, he laughed slightly, with a somber tone to his voice. Before getting up and walking towards the door, once at the edge of it, he turned around, barely even looking at the three stunned members of his family. He wondered where he had gone wrong, where everything had gone to shit, the reasons why he couldn’t protect his family and why were they going through stuff they don’t deserve. He felt his heart ache at the memories of a lifetime ago, at the times up with his Father when they thought he loved them.

He thought of Lilith and how much love she had to give; she was his little sister. And he would have given everything to protect her and every single member of his family, he would crawl through all the realms and sink to the bottom before trading his own life if it was necessary. But he couldn’t, even if he wanted to. He was stuck with the weight of his mistakes and the regrets that weighed him down and ate him up every day, every moment of every second of every minute of his existence. This was his life. No matter how much he tried to make the family okay, the universe seemed to punish them all.

Lost in his thoughts, Lucifer arrived at his room. Ignoring the stack of papers in his desk and turning off his phone. Not even Diavolo was going to convince him of waking up early tomorrow. Lucifer kicked his shoes off, and without getting anything else off, he laid in bed, starring at the ceiling and wondering how could he be such a bad father and older brother.

Across the hallway, stood two demons and a human. Whom felt as hopeless as Lucifer. Mc wanted so badly to go after Lucifer and hug him but the first they needed to cry their feelings for a second. Mc got up from the bed, leaving and empty cup on Asmodeous bed and excused themselves. Mammon sighed, passing a hand through his hair. This was all wrong, none of this should be happening, and Mammon wanted to do something about it so badly.

“Mammon.” Asmodeous voice was hoarse and weak. Mammon ignored the feeling of tears accumulating in his eyes in order to pay attention to Asmodeous, who’s hair was covering his facial features while the younger demon starred at the floor.

“I know.” Mammon’s tone mirrored Asmodeous. “Me too Asmo, you and all the other bunch of idiots that live in this house.” Asmodeous laughed for less than a second, looking up, and in that moment, Mammon saw that he had been crying. Mammon moved to give his little brother a hug. They stayed like that for a while, Mammon trying to regain composure while Asmodeous fully sobbed on his older brother’s shoulder.

It was moments like this that showed them how much they did care for one another. Even if they were always fighting, and screaming at one another, they were a family. Lucifer had made sure they stood together for so long and hell would be damned if the mere presence of their father was going to change that fact. They were a family, and nothing was going to change that.

After a few minutes, Mammon left Asmodeous alone, both agreeing to never speak of that again. For their sakes and Lucifer’s. After entering his room, Mammon put his hands over his pool table, taking in everything that had just happened. He wasn’t aware of how long he stood there, starring at nowhere while simultaneously lost in his head. The only reason he snapped out of it was because his phone started ringing.

“What do ya want?” Mammon asked, not bothering to even check who was calling.

“Mammon! Right?” Mammon hummed as an answer. “We finally got a hold of you. Listen kid, the customer is still requesting your presence. They want it to be delivered tonight. You in?” Mammon sighed; he was not having any of it tonight.

“Yeah, listen here bud. Tell the costumer The Great Mammon isn’t interest in delivering no food.” He didn’t even wait for an answer before hanging up and throwing his phone over the bed, flopping in it and trying to fall asleep. Of course, that was interrupted by the phone once again. Mammon groaned. “Oi! I already told you I am not interested. Stop calling.”

“We understand, but the customer stated that in case you refused to deliver we reassured you that he would pay very handsomely.” Mammon sighed.

“How about this, why don’t ya take the order to the man, and you receive the pay, that way you can use that money to check yo damn ears cuz you ain’t listening to what I’m saying. I Ain’t Interested.” With that Mammon hanged up again, he got up from the bed and tried to sigh, but before he even did that the phone started ringing again. “Y’know what? I’m starting to get real mad-”

“Mammon.” That voice… “come now, no need to be so rude.” This time, the voice that came through the phone wasn’t the same. For a moment he couldn’t quite recognize the voice, then in clicked. “I only wish to see my son. Why are you denying me from that?” It was his father.

“You…you were the customer.” Mammon spoke in mild disbelief. He had been so tired and annoyed he didn’t even think of the possibility of his father messing with him. Yet, here he was. Even from the phone Mammon could tell his father had the most devilish grin the man could give. For a moment Mammon felt his head spin while the anticipation of hearing his father’s voice grew. Then, in a deep playful tone, almost gritted yet obviously unwelcome, his father spoke.

“Bingo.”

Aight! Chapter seven people! This one is bit different than the normal format of “God finds a brother alone and manipulates him.” In all honestly, this chapter was not meant to exist at all, i started it trying to write the chapter for the next brother but it turned into this. I still hope y’all like this one. Next chapter will be again fallow my usual format, and I’ll probably post it Wednesday. That is all for today, hope y’all had enjoyed it sweeties :3

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

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theteej · 4 years

Text

“You need to take serious time for yourself, do self-care, or something,” my best friend Mark said to me, uncomfortably earnestly.

“I’m serious. You haven’t been letting anything in, and you just have to sit and stop running. Go process, or feel, or just let it sink in that you did things and you surprisingly don’t suck.”

Fuck, he’s right.

And so that’s what I’m doing. Last week I booked an Airbnb in La Jolla, a tony coastal enclave of San Diego near where I went to undergrad. I pretended I was on vacation, but in a pandemic. I booked a small studio near the water, and planned to spend these next few days reading, reflecting, walking along the ocean, and staying otherwise indoors and trying to wrestle with this whole semester. I pulled up to the studio last night, unpacked my bags, and cried. Like cried a lot. I felt lonely and scared, but also so numb. I felt a sea of blankness all around me, and a sense of trepidation.

Honestly, I don’t know what to do about all of my stupid feelings.

Where to start?

I feel like I’ve been anxious nearly my whole life. It’s absolutely something that developed as a kid with a violent, drunken father. You learn to live in between heartbeats like that, always testing what’s about to happen, trying to think of the next thing to plan in order to stay safe. Sure, your brain says tauntingly. Things are OK right now, but what if they’re not in a few minutes? Or even worse: Things ARE terrible—what are you going to do if they stay that way forever? These are the gifts Tyrone Tallie Sr left me, along with an unoriginal legal name and a stubborn widows peak visible whenever I grow my hair out for a few weeks.

Couple that with a natural tendency to think quickly, and you have the birth of a personality that masked my calculating self-security by turning those constant permutations into clever moments for interaction or comment. Like many people, my wit is born of trauma; the ability to process things in quick time is born out of needing to feel safe, and frequently gets deployed to put others at ease. That’s one of the weirder contradictory things about being me. I am simultaneously witty and clever and in control, and I am also always quietly freaking out, or at the very least, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Which is why this has been….a damn semester. Teaching two classes fully remotely with panicked, overwhelmed students in the shadow of an ever-worsening pandemic that stretches on and on without end and feeling daily gaslighted by the endless selfishness of your fellow citizens—what a gift for the anxious. Ironically, anxiety helped to a certain extent because I didn’t have the shock of falling into a new world of uncertainty or fear that so many non-anxious folk did this year. But that’s hardly a gift, is it? Congratulations! You’re already living as if a bomb can go off at any moment, so you’re not struggling to adjust to the new horror show of life!

Teaching this semester has been…just without any context. I’ve taught online, but not in this same planned way and with everyone panicking, and the looming threat of pandemic and election. And yet we did it. We pulled ourselves together, and my students were honest about their needs and their breakdowns and I tried to model humility and grace and confusion and rage as well as they did. We didn’t fuck it up. Or, we all fucked up, and it was okay. We learned things. Students surprised me, and it was glorious. I got to be broken and I didn’t die.

It was an intense semester of overworking as well. I was on a bunch of committees, formal and informal, and we managed to get a new minor—African Studies—passed. I’ll be heading a new program on campus next year, and that’s exciting and terrifying. And on top of all of that, I couldn’t stop volunteering for stuff, or talking about things I cared about. In addition to teaching, I gave fourteen different presentations or talks this semester, an increase in expectations or agreements on my part thanks to the ubiquity of zoom. It grinds on you: the whole, get up, trudge to the back room, power up a personality for the zoom camera, and pour yourself digitally into a screen, only to feel yourself broken into little packets of light and data and scattered across the universe.

The talks went well. The student evaluations went well. Honestly, both were fucking great. And I haven’t let myself feel a goddamn thing. I let it slide off me like rain on a waxed deck, the droplets beading on the slick wood before slipping away into the darkness. I cant let it sink in, because then something good might be happening, and the very skills that have made me capable—the whip-fast reflexes, the self-deprecating humour, the rapid analysis—are also tied to the very deep-seeded anxiety. Everything has to be calculated and understood and prepared for, because at some moment a dark curtain is going to fall over the face of a man with my same name. He will smack me so hard I will go flying out of a chair and hit the wall with a soft, sickly whump, a particularly unpleasant of me at seven that I carry sewn into every cell of my skin and fiber of my being.

I can’t stop and let it sink in because I have internalized the worst calculus of overachiever life—push harder, don’t stop for the good, that’s normal. Stop only for the bad to learn from it, take in its horror, and let it never happen to you again. And so I found myself at the end of the semester holding a bag of relative joy like a party favour, looking around anxiously for bullies to come snatch it out of my hands.

And then Jeopardy fucking happened.

I got to be on television. I got to talk to Alex Trebek, the same man who held my grandmother’s hand on Classic Concentration and saw that her for the beautiful, formidable queen that she was. I got to turn silly trivia knowledge into cash—and I got to do it while being me. And to my confusion—people liked me. It went well, they felt I resonated with something inside of them, and they liked it.

I do not, in my own skill set, have the tools to deal with that. I am supposed to be clever and fast, and witty, and engaging and lovable—but I do not know how to actually think of receiving goodness. I know how to process being witty and clever and delightful—I did what I was supposed to do, good job, next—but I don’t know how to actually take that positivity in.

I keep waiting for all of this to fall apart, for everyone to hate me in the reassuring ways that I distrust or marginalize or disbelieve myself. And yet, I know that’s not helpful. Hence, overachiever’s therapy: forcing oneself to prematurely trade on prize money and spend a three day love/relaxation retreat, less than fifteen miles from my own apartment.

I woke up and cried a little. I then tried to mediate or at least focus on the positives of late. Nope. Nothing came. I decided it was time for coffee. I drank some that I made in the Airbnb, but realized I needed to get outside for a walk. I changed into a bright yellow caftan and an extra-dramatic face mask, and went for a walk on the streets of La Jolla, the bougie and strange bubble by the sea.

La Jolla can double in weird ways like other parts of the world I frequent. It feels sometimes like I’m in Durban (if you’re more partial to Umhlanga Rocks or Durban North) or Wellington (if you love Mount Vic or Oriental Bay), or even Vancouver (if you feel like West Point Grey or the haughtiest parts of Kitsilano are your thing). It’s a rich place, one that I don’t belong in, but one that I can feign a few hours of enjoyment and sun.

Today I walked down palm tree lined streets in the perfect weather, the breeze pushing through my still-short hair with a strange urgency. I picked up a cold brew coffee and a freshly caught and grilled halibut sandwich that my therapist recommended (we decided to briefly be pescatarian for a day and chalked it up to the ‘medical advice.’), then I turned toward the coast. I sat for a long time looking at the waves—unsurprisingly—with a bit of anxiety.

What if I relaxed WRONG? What if I couldn’t let myself feel joy? What if I just wasted the day by…eating this sandwich and not fully appreciating the beautiful ocean waves, golden sun, or nature all around me. After a while I realized that sounded ridiculous, and just forced myself to sit.

And as the old Zulu language dance song “Unamanga” by the late Patricia Majalisa started to filter to my headphones, as I stared out at the sea and the sun, something shifted. I felt something like, I don’t know, a failure in the sealnt around myself, and some drops dripped in, slowly. Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t have to do this in a grand gesture. I could enjoy myself and the small joys I’d found in life so far.

I could be grateful and quietly glad for the little things that happened. It wasn’t about deserving it, or about it being worthy of me. I could imagine for right now, that this was a thing that I could have. I could sit and marvel that some great shit happened to me, and it was OK. Let’s not get it twisted—I didn’t have an epiphany, there were no turnbacks on the road to Emmaus. But I did find a little quietude in my soul for a second and stopped frantically Teflon-ing my heart from joy for a second.

I survived a hell semester, and did well. I got a wonderful opportunity and it went well. I could just let hat happen and also not ignore that it happened, to focus on negatives in an outsized way. I could, in this single afternoon moment, be delighted that things had gone okay. And not worry or strategize about the next disaster, which would happen on its own anyway. And…that’s all I can do right now.

Also, I’m going to work on this more, this whole letting people love me and letting it sink in. I usually avoid it because I feel like it keeps me off my game from the inevitable disaster to follow. But that’s not how I want to live. I’m going to try to think about what it means that some of you all tell me you love me, and then to show it. I need to reconcile the nonstop whirligig of my mind also turns menacingly in on itself so often, and that acknowledging the gift of calculated wit and mirth also means I have to cultivate love and joy.

So tomorrow, I’m going to go for a brief run, I’m going to drink some lovely coffee, and I’m going to walk along the ocean again. (And then I’m going to keep staying in this Airbnb so I don’t catch or spread this plague.)

What a fucking semester, y’all.

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peonybane · 5 years

Text

Agape and Pragma: Chapter 9

Pairings: OT7 (BTS) x Reader

Word Count: 5.3 k

Genre: Hybrid AU, Fluff, Angst, Sci-Fi, Crack, Smut

Chapter Specific Notes: Fluff, Smut….

Warnings: Some MxM stuff (but like not a whole lot, it’s very fluffy), some light spanking, D/s undertones, threesome, knotting, female receiving oral, very, very light degradation if you can even consider it degradation, I think that’s it.

Summary: Your entire world had be torn asunder by just one lab test. Time heals all wounds, but does it really? What will it take to feel whole again?

Hybrid Types: Peacock Jin, Serval Yoongi, Golden Retriever Hoseok, Gray Wolf Namjoon, Scottish Fold House Cat Jimin, Great Dane Taehyung, and French Lop Eared Rabbit Jungkook

a/n: It’s finally here... the smut! Please enjoy. This is something I’m not used to writing, but please enjoy it. Thank you as always to @ropeseok, my beta reader and to @mintedmango helping me with a small detail and for the emotional support.

<— Previous (Chapter 8)

You were woken up by the sound of your stomach growling. Turning over uncomfortably, you looked over at your alarm clock. It was only 8 pm. Dammit. You slept most of the day away, not that it really mattered. Your eyes were slightly swollen, your throat was raw, and your stomach made a hellish noise, letting you know that it wasn’t about to let you get away with not feeding it without repercussions.

Groaning, you decided that you might as well take the chance of running downstairs and grabbing something to eat, preferably something that went well with the bottle of wine you planned on smuggling out of Yoongi’s wine rack. Rubbing your eyes, you tossed your legs over the side of your bed, standing up on wobbly feet. Groggily, you walked over to your door, opening it. You weren’t ready for the sight before you.

Jimin was sitting on the ground across from your room, his knees up to his chest and his head resting on them, eyes closed as if asleep and his ears twitching slightly on occasion. You were frozen there, not breathing. The sound of you stepping back woke him (but the opening of your door didn’t, somehow), his head shooting up. He stared up at you with the sweetest, saddest eyes you had seen. You held his gave for a moment too long.

The world seemed to stop in that moment as you found yourself drowning in Jimin’s weepy eyes. He whispered your name and you bolted into action. You tried to close the door, but Jimin was faster. He leapt to his feet and stuck his hand between the door and the frame, making him yowl in pain. Instantly you found yourself apologizing, yanking the door back and reaching for his hand. “Jimin! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!—“

You checked his hand brushing over the reddening skin with your fingertips and blowing cool air on it. Jimin cut off your panic but muttering, almost crying, “I’m sorry.”

You paused looking at him again. The air was heavy between the two of you. “Can… can I come in? I want to talk to you and apologize.”

Just as you were about to reply, your stomach made its needs known once more. To your mortification, Jimin laughed. Your face flushed as you yelled, “H-Hey!”

“Luckily I figured you’d be hungry and what better peace offering than,” he leaned behind himself and pulled out a brown paper bag that you somehow missed while he was on the ground, “your favorite mac n’ cheese from Magic Shop.”

You bit your lip, eyeing the food, the smell drifting to your nose and making your stomach rumbling. You took the bag from him. “I accept the peace offering of the world’s best pasta and processed dairy.”

Jimin giggled and followed you into your room. He went to close your door but you said, “No. Keep it open.”

The air between the two of you turned tense again and his tail flickered nervously, he nodded, leaving your door slightly ajar.

You gave him a smile and sat down on your bed, pulling out the familiar purple container from Magic Shop filled with your favorite mac n’ cheese and some plasticware. Digging in, you happily scarfed down the sweet but tangy taste of the cheese and pasta; Jimin cautiously sat down on the bed across from you.

He watched you in silence, gauging your mood as you finished your food with a happy little moan, a sound that sent him tense and slightly bristling. You blushed, looking away from him. “Sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. I should be.”

Placing your food on your nightstand, you took a moment thinking through your choice of words. “But I’ve been the one giving you the go around. With all of you. Because I’m stupid and don’t know my own feelings. I just… I don’t know.”

Jimin reached out and grasped your hands, making you look up at him once again. His jaw was set hard. “You’re not stupid. We’re part of the problem. We’ve been… giving you mixed signals, never telling you just how crazy you make us. We love you. With every fiber of our being.”

“But how can it work, Jimin? I… I don’t want to lose any of you. I don’t want to make any of you feel unloved. I don’t want be the center of all of your attention. I don’t want you guys to force yourself into a relationship just so you can have me. I—“

“You worry too much.”

Both you and Jimin turned towards your bedroom door as Namjoon pushed it open. There was something dark and feral in his gaze as he looked at both you and Jimin. For a brief moment, he turned around and closed your door, locking it. Your throat felt dry as you looked up at Namjoon. He stalked closer, his ears pressed forward. His eyes seemed to grow darker and it made something clench involuntarily inside you.

His voice rumbled as he said, “We love you. And we love each other, just maybe not in ways you think are obvious.”

Namjoon sat down on the bed in front of you and brushed back a strand of your hair. “You care so much for all of us. And you don’t even know how much we wish we could give you more. And this will work. With all eight of us. Let us prove it to you: that we can love each other, just as we love you.”

He shot a look over at Jimin and out of the corner of your eye, Jimin crawled across the bed towards the two of you. Your gaze followed Namjoon as he leaned towards Jimin, who already had a strange glazed look in his eye. Namjoon smiled, his dimples revealing themselves and his tail wagging a little as he reached out to cup the back of Jimin’s neck.

You stopped breathing, too enraptured by the scene before you as Namjoon kissed Jimin. It was gentle as first, Jimin immediately melting into the other’s touch. Namjoon smirked a little at the soft purring sound that rumbled in Jimin before capturing Jimin’s lips once again, sucking on his plush lower lip. Your breath hitched as Jimin let out a small moan.

Slowly, Namjoon pulled from Jimin, who practically chased after his lips. You let out a little gasp as Namjoon stalked towards you. Frozen in place, all you could do was watch him, an inferno building inside of you. He leaned in towards you and rubbed his nose against your own. “Please. Let us show you all the love we have for you. Today, it’s about you. And you alone.”

Before you could respond, he leaned in and kissed you. It was shocking; your mind went blank. All that mattered was this heat, rolling off him in waves and the warm, oaky smell that permeated you. His lips were soft, and strangely sweet, like he had eaten a candy bar before coming up to your room. You closed your eyes as he threaded his hand through your hair, letting yourself relax into the kiss.

The feeling of Jimin’s lips grazing your neck startled you, making you pull back from Namjoon. A throaty growl left Namjoon’s lips for a moment before he gazed at the hazy look in your eyes. “Kiss her.”

Jimin smiled as Namjoon guided you to his lips. Jimin’s lips were just as plush as Namjoon’s but there was underlying tenderness there that, even as gentle as Namjoon’s kiss was, wasn’t there. You sharply inhaled at the feeling of Jimin’s rough tongue swiping at your bottom lip as Namjoon nuzzled your neck, breathing heavily into your neck. Namjoon huskily whispered in your ear, “Tell us what you want.”

A swell of emotion filled you and you choked on a sudden cry that threatened expose all of your hidden, buried secrets. “Please… just, love me. Take all my doubts and worries away.”

Both of them smiled against your skin. Jimin cupped your jaw, slipping his tongue into your mouth as Namjoon ran his hand up your thigh, making you whimper needily. Namjoon whispered once again in your ear, “Alright, little one. We’ll do just that. Jimin.”

Jimin pulled away at the sound Namjoon’s voice. You chased after his lips, clearly not done in the least bit with the kiss. Namjoon laughed breathily. “It’s alright, little one. We’re just going to get comfy for a moment before spoiling you.”

Jimin was the first to get off the bed, looking at you sultrily, even though he was dressed in an old stained t-shirt and ripped sweats. Namjoon moved as well, sitting himself behind you, kissing your neck as you watched Jimin with curious and rapt attention. Jimin smirked as he began stripping, making a real show of it.

Damn him and his sexy body. You blushed heavily and looked away, feeling a bit self conscious. Namjoon nipped at your earlobe and whispered, “Don’t look away from him, little one.”

There was something in his tone that made you heed his command. You turned your gaze back on Jimin, who was now watching you intently as he ran his hands down his already naked torso (When and where did he throw his shirt off to?) and towards the waistband of his sweats. As he worked the sweats down his thighs, you were oddly intrigued by the way his tail twitched and flicked as it shimmied out of the stretchy hole in his pants for it. Once he was stripped down to his boxers, your eyes grew large in shock; he was already mostly hard.

Worrying your bottom lip, you couldn’t help but look away again, which earned you a smack on your thigh from Namjoon. You looked back at him as he smirked. “I told you not to look away from him.”

“I—I’m sorry….”

Namjoon nipped at your neck again as Jimin joined you two back on the bed, this time, sitting right in front of you as he ran his hands up your calves and under your pajama bottoms. Namjoon whispered in your ear, “Little one, in this situation, you are to address me as ‘Alpha.’ Understand?”

You swallowed, followed by a clench deep in your center. “Y-Yes, Alpha.”

“Good girl.”

Over your shoulder, Namjoon shot Jimin a look, silently communicating something between them. Jimin nodded, almost as if he understood, and in a way, you suppose, he did. Jimin slipped his hands up and over your thighs, trailing them towards the waistband of your pajama bottoms, all the while maintaining eye contact with you. He slipped them off and over your thighs, his lips leaving a gentle trail of kisses down the inside of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

As soon as they were off, Jimin started doing the same treatment with your panties, kissing his way down the other leg. It momently distracted you from the touch of Namjoon’s warm palms as they slipped under your t-shirt and over your stomach, coming up to cradle one breast in each hand. You bit your lip, letting your head fall back as Namjoon lovingly squeezed and massaged your breasts all the while Jimin rubbed his way back up your thighs after having removed your panties.

Jimin began kissing you, a hunger you eagerly returned, his hands working your t-shirt off of you as Namjoon continued to play with one breast, his other hand skimmed its way south over your burning skin. A gasp left your lips, a sound that Jimin eagerly swallowed up as Namjoon cupped your mound.

You mewled as Namjoon smirked against your neck, starting to slowly stroke your pussy lips. Jimin giggled, commenting something about ‘cute.’ Though you weren’t really sure as the feeling of finally being touched down there after so long was more than distracting enough. With his rough tongue, Jimin started licking his way down your neck and nipping and sucking hickies into your skin on the way down. You started squirming in their hold, one hand threading through Jimin’s hair, which earned you a soft purr, and the other clawed at Namjoon’s arm that pinned to him as he started adding pressure to the hand cupping your pussy.

“Ji-Jimin… mmmmph… Namjoon!”

A hiss left your lips at the gentle, but quick smack to your pussy as Namjoon growled in your ear. “Alpha, little one. Last warning.”

“Y-Yes… I’m sorry, Alpha.”

Namjoon growled, “Go on, Jiminie. Do what you’ve always wanted to do.”

Before you could question Namjoon’s words, he tangled one hand in your hair, gripping it harshly as he turned your head for a brutal kiss. A part of you wanted to challenge, but you were so love starved that you were left weak, desiring everything that he could give you.

And you took it all.

You barely noticed Jimin’s hands leaving your body as Namjoon subjugated you with just a kiss alone. But in the next moment, Jimin made sure you wouldn’t forget his presence again.

The sensation of a warm, wet, and rough tongue gently lapping at your lower lips left you squealing into the kiss, your body tensing from the sudden feeling. The feeling was so foreign, yet so familiar you weren’t sure how to process it. You felt Jimin giggle against you more than heard him as Namjoon kept you in place, one hand still in your hair, the other pulling one of your thighs open so Jimin could feast on you.

Jimin teased your pussy lips with a finger before spreading them apart, giving your clit gentle kitten licks, causing you to whimper and shudder, pulling at the hair around his little folded ears. Your reactions emboldened him, you could practically feel him smirk against your lower lips, as he gave your even harsher licks.

Namjoon let go out of your hair, instead, concentrating on keeping your thighs open, almost leaving bruises on them. You pulled away from the kiss for some breath, panting as you looked down at Jimin… which you quickly realized you shouldn’t have done.

The sight alone made you clench around nothing. There he laid on his stomach in between your legs, rutting slightly against your bed as he continued to bury his face in your pussy, his tail at attention. It didn’t help when he gazed up at you and Namjoon with those sweet eyes. Namjoon chuckled into your ear. “You like that, little one?”

Before you could respond, Jimin took your poor little clit in his mouth, sucking on it. A strangled moan left your lips and behind you, Namjoon thrusted himself, almost uncontrollably, against your ass, his erection hidden under the fabric of his shorts. But damn. He was sizable.

You leaned your head back against Namjoon’s shoulder, look up at him with large, needy eyes. He stared down at your darkly, his gaze growing darker, a growl rumbling in his chest against your back as Jimin inserted a finger into you, making you letting a small cry.

From between your legs, Jimin pulled away from your throbbing clit, “You like that, princess?”

You nodded, barely trusting your voice. Namjoon harshly nipped at your neck. “Answer him properly, little one.”

“Y-Yes! I like it!”

Jimin smirked, starting to thrust his finger into you, slowly working you open as he returned to licking and suckling at your clit. You continued to mewl and moan as he seemed to have the time of his life eating you out, if his tail was any indication. Behind you, Namjoon continued to hold your legs open, even as you fought his hold, all the while whispering dirty, naughty promises into your ear. “You like that? You like the way little Jimin suckles on your sweet lips? You want more?”

“Y-Yes….” The dark look in his eye gave you one last warning. “Y-Yes, Alpha. More.”

A sound, something akin to a purr, but deeper and yet, somehow off, reverberated through his chest. “Good girl.”

Namjoon let go of one of your thighs, instead now removing your hand from Jimin’s head and threading his own fingers through his hair and tugging on it, hard. Jimin automatically hissed, earning himself a look from Namjoon. You weren’t sure of what look Namjoon was giving him, except that whatever it was, it made Jimin blush and look away submissively. “There, there, kitty. I think you’ve been a good boy up until now. Do you want to go first?”

Jimin’s eyes lit up giving away his excitement before he looked over at you, shyly. He crawled his way up to you and Namjoon sat you up, pushing you forward a little to remove himself from bed. You didn’t follow him, instead you found yourself frozen in place under Jimin’s strangely predatory gaze. He grazed his lips against your own. “May I?”

Barely above a breath you replied, “Please.”

Jimin shot you one his usual sweet smiles before coming in to kiss you. It was a short kiss, granted, but it just felt so right. Like this was where you were meant to be. He shifted you towards the center of the bed, laying you down on your plush duvet. Jimin shyly smiled at you as he took one of your pillows and looked at you pleadingly. You tilted your head, not quite following until an almost naked Namjoon joined you two on your bed again (he was stripped down similarly to Jimin; just his boxers) and lifted your hips, letting Jimin slip the pillow underneath your hips. With you pelvis raised and the both of them looking at you, you felt shy, being all exposed.

You tried to cross you legs, to hide from their burning gaze, but they would have none of that. Namjoon grabbed you thigh as he laid next to you, stroking it as he looked at you lovingly. He kissed you gently, whispering against your lips, “You’re absolutely beautiful. Don’t hide.”

“He’s right. Absolutely divine. And all ours.”

You looked over at Jimin, who had completely stripped off his boxer. Your eyes bugged out at the sight. He was on the smaller side: short, average girth, but veiny and delightfully curved. He was perfectly smooth down there, making the pinkening skin look even prettier, especially as his stocky cock head started leaking pre-cum. Jimin smirked as you bit you lip, but the sight of him, for some reason, all exposed, helped you relax. Namjoon got back on his knees leaning in towards Jimin. “Let me have a taste of our little one.”

Jimin’s gaze turned docile again as Namjoon cupped his neck, going in for another kiss, this one far more aggressive then before as Namjoon forces Jimin’s lip apart, his tongue reaching in to taste the remnants of you on Jimin’s tongue. You watched in awe as Jimin moaned into the kiss and his cock jumped against his stomach. It seemed like you weren’t the only one to appreciate it as Namjoon reached down as grasped Jimin’s cock, stroking it. Jimin pulled away from the kiss and gasped, his head lulling back. Namjoon whispered something into his ear that you didn’t hear, but from the way Jimin blushed, it was certainly something naughty.

Namjoon let go of Jimin’s cock and Jimin took a moment to calm down. Then they turned their gaze on you. Namjoon tilted his head, smirking. “Looks like someone enjoyed the little show.”

You blushed at his words, looking away. “But now it’s her turn to play.”

Jimin stalked towards you; you felt like prey under both of their predatory gazes. He gingerly took your legs and parted them, coming close enough to let his cock nestle against your clit, making you tense, but pleasantly so. He got down on his elbows, caging in your face as he gazed lovingly into your eyes. “You ready?”

You nodded. “Mmmhmm. But what about—“

Namjoon laid down next to you two, interrupting you. “I’ll go after Jimin. If you can handle it.”

You blushed at the look he gave you, this in turn made Jimin giggle before he gave you one last sweet kiss. Reaching between your bodies, Jimin grasped his cock, pushing himself into you. You gasped at the entrance. God. It’s been for fucking ever. Jimin groaned above you, teeth reddening that plush bottom lip of his. Once he was seated inside of you, you throbbed around him, getting used to the stretch after so long. He certainly wasn’t going to be the biggest of your potential lovers, if the hard on Namjoon was sporting was anything to go by. But he was certainly pleasantly shaped, the head of his cock curving right into your g-spot.

After a moment, you kissed up his neck and reached up to rub the curled cartilage of his ear up so you could whisper into his ear, “Please, Jimin. Move…. Please, make me cum.”

His other ear twitched as his Adam’s apple bobbed. His gaze turned dark. Namjoon laughed, “Little girl, I think you’ve awoken the tiger inside him.”

As if that really was a challenge, Jimin growled, pulling himself up so that he rested on his knees and the balls of his feet, his arms hooking under your knees. He pulled back until the tip before harshly thrusting back in, hitting your g-spot spot on. You cried out at the intensity, tears already threatening to escape. It’s been too long….

Namjoon leaned over you and started kissing you as your hand shot out, grasping his hand as a way to ground yourself. As if the sight of Namjoon touching you was some sort of trigger, Jimin practically turned feral, thrusting into you with a purpose. And that single purpose was to make you cum. You would cum because of his cock now, or not at all.

To your embarrassment, you couldn’t help the moans and half screams that left your mouth as all you could do was lay there and take everything Jimin was giving you as he battered away at your g-spot, his pelvis striking your clit simultaneously. Namjoon growled happily, touching you all over as he licked, nipped, and sucked on your breasts. The erotic words fall from their lips didn’t help the inferno that was threatening to explode from within you. Namjoon would whisper naughty things like, “Little one, do you hear that? The sound of him fucking you raw?”

All the while Jimin would growl, “You’re mine, princess. Don’t fucking forget that!”

It was all too much. You barely had the chance to warn them before you were cumming. Hard. One hand in your hair, pulling while the other was clawing at Namjoon’s arm harshly, your legs wrapped around Jimin’s middle, taking him prisoner as your walls spasmed and a wave of euphoria washed over you. Your orgasm eventually dissipated with a strangled whine, which seemed to have triggered Jimin’s own orgasm as he let out a yowl, his hips twitch against yours as he filled you with ropes of his cum.

Namjoon smiled at you, his dimples poking through as he sat up. He first kissed you gently, wiping the sweat from your face before switching over to Jimin, kissing him just the same as your legs finally released their death grip on him. Jimin hissed as he pulled away from you, you whimpered in return at the sensation.

Jimin practically dive bombed for the spot next to you, opposite of Namjoon. He gave you a sweet, crescent eyed smile before cupping your cheek and kissing you deeply. Namjoon nuzzled into the both of you making you giggle as you pulled away from the kiss. “How are you feeling, little one? Want a break?”

You couldn’t help but glance down, noticing that Namjoon was still sporting quite the hard on. “What about you?”

“I told you before, today is about you and your pleasure. I’ll wait if you’re done for the da—“

“No! I want you, Namjoon. I love you! I love the both of you!”

Something changed in his gaze. Those sweet dimples were gone and the gaze of an Alpha appeared. “Is that so?”

He leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Then get on your hands and knees so I can breed you like my bitch.”

You couldn’t help the clench you pussy gave, causing some of Jimin’s cum to leak out of you. His gaze grew even darker as he took a deep inhale. He all but ripped his boxers off himself. You didn’t get as good of a look as you’d have like of his cock (which all you could tell from a single glance was big and was surrounded by a trimmed smattering of hair) before he roughly grabbed you and flipped you over. He smacked your ass, leaving you a little dazed. “I said,” another smack, making you yelp. “On your hands and knees.”

You scrambled to your hands and knees, even going as far as to raise your ass even higher for him. Namjoon made a rumbling noise of satisfaction as Jimin moved to sit in front of you, his boxers back on (When did he do that?). Namjoon started rubbing his hands down your ass to your pussy as Jimin ran his hand through your hair, kissing you.

That kiss was all that was needed to help you relax enough (and to distract you) for Namjoon to start sliding into you. You pulled away from the kiss, letting out a high pitched whine. Namjoon was big. Long with a medium girth. Now, you realized why, despite the fact that Namjoon was the Alpha of your ‘pack’, he let Jimin go first: it would have been absolutely impossible for you to take him after so many years.

You found yourself tearing up a little. Jimin kissed away your tears. Namjoon seated himself in you all the way, you found yourself breathing hard as he asked, “Are you alright?”

“Y-Yeah… just need a moment. Dammit, Namjoon. Just how big are you?”

Jimin giggled. “Oh, don’t say that. He’s not even the biggest of us.”

“What?!”

Jimin laughed some more. From behind you, Namjoon chuckled himself. “Now, now, Jimin. No need to tease her. After all, I think this is all she can handle for right now. I hope my little one can handle it when I knot her.”

You swallowed at those words. Knotting? He was going to knot you? You pussy betrayed you and clenched, making Namjoon groan. Jimin giggled as he stroked your cheek. ��Looks like princess likes the idea of you using her pussy like that.”

The dirty look you shot Jimin was short lived as Namjoon gave an experimental thrust. Instead of a snarky comeback, a high pitched whine left your lips. Jimin smirked at the fucked out look already on your face as Namjoon began building a steady pace. Namjoon was surprisingly quiet except for the absolute filth leave his mouth (“Such a good girl for me.” And, “I can’t wait to paint your pussy in my cum.”). Though, to be fair, you were more than compensating by the moans and whines leaving your mouth as his hips repeatedly smacked your ass.

Jimin continued to kiss you as Namjoon battered away at your pussy and digging his nails into your ass. It was all too much. Eventually, your arms gave out with a cry, but luckily, Jimin was there to catch you. He whispered filth in your ear almost as bad as what Namjoon was saying as you clung to him for dear life.

You were getting close again. It was all too much but not enough. You were too distracted by the cadence of Namjoon’s hips smacking your ass to hear the scuffle that was happening right outside your door. But Namjoon knew. And boy did he like the idea of the others listening in as he fucked you hard.

Suddenly you found yourself being pinned down against Jimin as Namjoon changed the angle of his thrusts, practically making you scream. Namjoon nipped at your earlobe before asking, “I bet you want all of us don’t you? You want us just as much as we want you. You want all seven of us to use you. To love and to fuck you.”

You couldn’t help the clench your pussy gave at his words, drawing out a grunt from him. Jimin giggled. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? You want us to go find them and invite them in, don’t you?”

Again, your pussy clenched and Namjoon gave your ass a smack in warning. Namjoon continued, “Unfortunately today’s not the day. Your pussy is far too excited and abused to take any more than this? Isn’t it?”

You whimpered, words barely beyond your comprehension as your orgasm was just within reach. Namjoon threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling your head back so he can whisper against your lips, “Soon. Very soon. I promise.”

Those words were all you needed to throw you over the precipice. You cried out as your orgasm wrecked through your body, just as strongly as the last. As you winded down from your orgasm, you were barely coherent of Namjoon letting out a string of curses before stilling above you. You then felt the most curious feeling. It was like… he was getting bigger at the base.

Then you remembered his words from before: he was knotting you. For some reason, you thought it was be bigger, but his knot didn’t get too much bigger. It hurt a little as it pressed against your sensitive g-spot. But it was far from unbearable. Then you felt him flood you with his cum. It was uncomfortable but at the same time it felt… strangely good.

Namjoon collapsed on top of you, putting both your weight and his on poor Jimin. “Yah! Get off me!”

You and Namjoon laughed as he wrapped his arms around you, rolling you both off of poor Jimin and onto your sides. You were still firmly pressed against Namjoon as you experimentally tried to wiggle around. He smacked your thigh before lovingly kissing your neck. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, little one. I might just fuck you again. And I won’t be as nice this time.”

The blush on your cheeks was instantaneous causing Jimin to laugh. You pouted in response which just made both of them laugh. Once he had calmed down, Jimin cuddled up to you, laying on his side, facing the both of you. First, he leaned over you and kissed Namjoon, the sound of their lips right by your ear making you blush. Then once they pulled away from each other, Jimin kissed you first, licking at your bottom lip. In retaliation, you nipped at his tongue, earning you a smack on the hip from Jimin.

You pulled away from the kiss and pouted, making Namjoon giggle behind you. As Jimin laid back down, with a smile on his face, Namjoon cupped your face, turning you slightly towards him to kiss you this time. This a sweet and gentle kiss, leaving you wanting more. When he pulled back, he stroked your cheek before whispering, “We love you.”

You choked up a little. “I love you, too. All of you. I love you and Jimin. I love Jin and Hobi. I love Jungkook, the little shit,. I love Tae and Yoongi.”

Something inside you finally broke open. It was the crystal cage that you kept your feelings in: you could look, but not touch. The little bursts of emotion that forced their way through the cracks of your shattering crystal cage were nothing compared to typhoon that engulfed you.

You laid there, crying out your feelings, your relief, your revelation. No words were needed as Jimin and Namjoon continued to lay there with you, holding you, kissing you, pouring their love into you, as you cried. This was love. This physical act, was the sledge hammer than you needed to break that crystal cage on your heart. It was finally free. And you were never going back.

As always, reviews, comments, asks, and tags are always loved! ~Peony

Also, please note that I do NOT do tagging lists. Please see my FAQ for why.

Next (Chapter 10) —>

Agape and Pragma Masterlist

Masterlist

416 notes · View notes

an-unknown-writers-world · 5 years

Text

Breaking Routine

Day Seven: Ice Skating

Part of @panicfob 25 Days of Christmas Challenge

Warnings: Angst

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (First Person, Nameless) ; Sam Wilson x Reader(platonic)

Word Count: 2171

A/N: The beginning of this series can be found on my Masterlist if you’ve missed any of this.

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It had been a long, hard quiet day. I woke up with the worst hangover I’d had since freshman year of college, although I was at a loss for which was worse, my alcohol hangover or the emotional turmoil, I was feeling. The day had been full of things that were amiss, I woke up later than normal, so Bucky had come and gone by the time I made breakfast. I had tried to go for a run but lacked any motivation, I even tried a few rounds with the heavy bag and couldn’t stay focused on it. Most of the day had passed even into the evening and I was yet to see Bucky and believe me, I had looked everywhere.

I was beginning to think that game night was a bad idea or at least the alcohol part of it. I had practically thrown myself at Bucky and haven’t seen him since. I thought we were fine afterward, at least I was fine. I understood his thought process and I respected his decision even when every fiber of my being wanted to fight him.

After eating dinner, I realized pacing the house wasn’t getting me anywhere and I had already done all the laundry and dishes I could find. So, I found myself on the couch in the theater room watching ice skating. I was mentally and emotionally exhausted from being so inside my own head. I wasn’t sure how long I had been there before Sam moseyed in.

“You look miserable,” Sam said plopping into the chair next to the couch.

“Gee, thanks,” I replied not pulling my eyes from the tv.

“Maria says hello.”

I frowned, I hadn’t seen Maria in weeks, I didn’t even know she was back in town. She calls most if not all of the missions still. “You got to see her?”

“She got back into town last night, she’ll be here for a few weeks.”

“Hope I’ll get to see her,” I said looking at him.

“You will, she’s gonna be at the Stark Christmas party thing, I get to be her plus one.” He grinned, “Guess Barnes is the only one not coming. That is unless you’re taking him.”

I shrugged. “We haven’t talked about it.”

“I just assumed with as cozy as you two have been lately, that it didn’t need to be talked about.” Sam pushed.

“Well, you shouldn’t assume Sam.” My tone came out harsher than I intended. “If things were so peachy between us maybe he wouldn’t have vanished the entire day after I practically threw myself at him.”

“Whoa,” He sighed. “That wasn’t the response I was expecting.”

Grabbing the pillow next to me, I fiddled with the threaded design. Fidgeting had always been my give away for anxiety, ever since I was a little girl. I hadn’t intended to tell Sam any of this, it really wasn’t any of his business.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asked.

I shrugged, “Not much to say. We were all drunk, I asked him to stay with me and he told me no. He went to bed and I haven’t seen him since.”

“That’s it he just said no?”

“Well not technically, he gave me a noble speech about how he refused to stay with me if alcohol was involved in my decision making.” I rolled my eyes. “Sometimes his old-fashioned personality can be really frustrating.”

“Dude’s got some morals though. And as much as it pains me to defend him, there’s not a whole heck of a lot of those he can hold onto still. Mind control kind of robs you of a lot of those.”

I was shocked at Sam’s defense of Bucky; he had incredibly valid points, but this was progress for them. “That’s the things Sam, I’m not even mad at him for it.” I sighed realizing things for myself for the first time today. “I’m mad at myself for doing it, to begin with, it wasn’t the right time and I knew that I just didn’t want to be apart from him. The thing that upsets me the most is that he’s been gone for god only knows how long and I haven’t heard from him.”

“He left around nine-thirty this morning,” Sam stated,

I looked at him confused.

“We interacted over coffee this morning.”

“You interacted? Like you had a conversation?” I laughed.

“Not sure I’d call it that,” He shrugged. “He grumbled about him being an idiot and an asshole, which I naturally agreed with.”

“Sam,” I chided

“I didn’t know what was going on.” He urged, “If I did, I probably would have just sent him back upstairs to fix it.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“He didn’t say specifically, just that he was going to see a friend.”

“Ugh,” I threw the pillow in my face.

“That was a bit dramatic.”

“Shush. I’ve been stewing all day.”

“What are you watching anyway?” Sam asked looking at the tv.

“Figure skating.”

“Never understood the point of it, ice rinks are for hockey, not dance parties.”

I laughed, “Those girls are more athletic than you are.”

“How do you figure?”

We went back and forth bickering about pointless facts about ice skating in general. I had always knowns I was too clumsy to ever put myself on ice, but that didn’t stop me from watching it every winter that I could. We agreed that each use of an ice rink required specific skills that neither of us possessed. Eventually, he decided it was time for him to find food and get a workout in.

“Also, before I forget, Morgan and Peter are coming over tomorrow to build Gingerbread houses.”

“Morgan can stay, the other kid’s gotta go.”

“You can’t hate him for webbing you forever. Will you turn the light off?” I called out as he got to the doorway.

“It’s bad for your eyesight,” He replied, turning the light out anyways.

I wasn’t sure I cared about my eyesight at the moment, instead, I snuggled further into the couch pulling the blanket off the back; I stretched out with my head on one of the armrests. Focusing on the screen I tried to clear my mind and just focus on the tv, watching their beautiful rhythm, the smooth glides broke up by intense twists and jumps. It was mesmerizing really. I’m not sure how long I stayed that way, but it must have been a while.

“It’s beautiful,” Bucky said from the doorway. “Can I come in?”

“It’s a public space,” I stated,

He didn’t respond, instead, he came to sit on the couch. Carefully lifting my legs so they laid across his lap with the blanket. We had sat this way every night to watch the news lately, it was comfortable, but it felt wrong with my current mood. Neither of us spoke through the next routine, but it wasn’t the comfortable silence I was used to. It was thick with unspoken tension and unheard emotions.

“I’ve always had an irrational fear that I would fall and get my wrist sheared off by the blade of a skate,” Bucky confessed breaking the silence.

I looked him a little confused at first, “Always, like since you were a little kid?”

He nodded, “Even Steve would go ice skating; granted he usually broke or bruised something. But I was always content to sit on the side and watch. Did you ever skate growing up?” He asked.

I shook my head, “The town I grew up didn’t have any kind of ice rink and the nearest city that did was about two hours away. Even if it did, I don’t think I’d ever try. I’m too clumsy, I’d be afraid of falling.”

“Isn’t it funny how we let the fear of falling keep us from doing things we think we’d enjoy.” Bucky mused.

He spoke so softly I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it. I sat hesitantly wanting to speak, there were a hundred topics on the tip of my tongue, where had he been all day, did he leave because he couldn’t face me, was he okay? I wanted to apologize for my actions the night before, but then I wondered did they really require an apology, me vocalizing something that I wanted.

I was beginning to feel like our relations the last few days was like a figure skating routine, long smooth glides, the steady build of our friendship, the first twist with the cookies, the curving glides with the tree and stitches episode and that first jump on the sleigh ride. Routines end, sometimes they end poorly with the skater crashing to the ground, other times they end with a beautiful bow.

“Can I turn this off so we can talk for a few minutes?” Bucky asked.

This didn’t sound good.

“Sure, you’ll want to turn on the lamp behind you.”

He reached behind him flipping on the light and quickly powered the tv off. Turning ever so slightly, my legs still across his lap but his body facing me almost head-on now. The serious expression on his face was impossible to read.

“I owe you an apology,” He started.

“No, you don’t.” I interrupted. “I owe you one.”

Bucky sighed, “Please, let me.”

I nodded, agreeing to shut up so he could speak.

“I let my fear of falling stop me last night. There were so many different, better ways that I could have handled that last night. Neither of us wanted to be alone, I knew that’s what it was. We don’t have to sleep together to sleep together.” I smiled at the way he emphasized the first sleep. “I should have been more open and talked about it. I need to be honest with you, completely honest.”

“You haven’t shared a bed with anyone in eighty years?” I joked.

“Har, har.” He pretended to laugh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way.”

He reached out to grab my hand. “This terrifies me.” He confessed. “I don’t know how to do this; I barely knew how to do it in the ’40s. Last night after I went to bed and I heard your door close I got back up. I stood outside your room for a while, long enough to hear the crying. It killed me, I promised you back on the sleigh that I’d never break your heart and that’s exactly what I did last night.”

“Buck,” I sighed. “You did not break my heart. I was upset, but I was also drunk and overly emotional. I should have been clearer; I was asking you to stay the night with me not jump my bones.”

Bucky laughed, “What?”

I blushed, “You don’t know what jumping someone’s bones means?”

“Can’t say that I do, doll.”

“Well, it means to have sex.”

“Oh,” He laughed.

“Let me be perfectly honest. You never have to apologize for having morals and not wanting to cross a line at a certain point. I know that there are some things I am more comfortable with than you might be. We grew up in different time periods. There’s nothing wrong with that.” I scooted down the couch to be closer to him, “I don’t want you to be afraid to say no to something because you’re afraid you’ll upset me.”

He nodded,

“You know the thing that upset me the most wasn’t even what happened last night. It sounds stupid, but I missed you at breakfast and everywhere I went in the compound today, you weren’t there. I didn’t know where you were.”

He smiled at me weakly, “You could have called or text. I was just in the city.”

I looked down at where our fingers were intertwined, “I thought you were avoiding me.”

“I was trying to give you space because I thought you were upset with me.”

“We really suck at thinking we know how each other is feeling.” I chuckled.

Bucky lifted my chin with his metal finger, “I’m not the best at saying how I feel sometimes.”

He leaned forward pressing his lips to my forehead. When he pulled back, I looked up at his stormy blue eyes pulling me in like gravity. In one fluid motion, I closed the distance between us again pressing my lips to his. It was a sweet and gentle kiss, unspoken words of forgiveness and love shared. When we finally broke the kiss, I leaned my head in the crook of his neck trying to catch my breath.

“I think that’s better than my stumbling over words.” Bucky laughed quietly.

“I don’t know, I like your words,” I replied pulling back to look at him again.

“You’re biased,” He kissed me chastely.

“I could get used to that.” I smiled.

He kissed my lips again, then forehead, the tip of my nose, before coming back and finding my lips once again.

If this was our figure skating routine for the day, I’ll take it as a smooth gliding victory.

#panic's 25 days of christmas #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes one shot #sam wilson x reader #A Very Marvel Christmas #An Unknown Writers World writes #An Unknown Writers World

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dr-spencer-reids-queen · 5 years

Text

right where you belong

characters: spencer reid x reader, lila archer, aaron hotchner, derek morgan

word count: 2,326

warnings: fluff, minor angst

requested by @yourewelcomeforbeingmyfriend : This is fun! I also love that icon pic - MGG is adorable. the season’s kind of blur together for me, but I think this was an early one - could you maybe write a story where the reader has a crush on Reid and she finds out about Lila the celebrity with the stalker who liked him? Like the reader finds out about it and feels insecure because she can’t compete and Reid is obviously oblivious to her liking him until finally he asks why she’s acting different and she just tells him.

summary: lila is a perfect match for spencer, and when you catch them making out in her pool, you can’t help but compare yourself to her in every way.

author’s note: if you have any requests, please send them in! this is unbeta’d and every mistake is all on me. if your tag doesn’t work three times in a row (three stories i post in a row) then I will be removing you.

feedback the glue that holds my writing together

tags at the bottom

“Coffee with 7 sugars,” you grinned as you set the cup on your best friend’s desk. He looked up with a huge smile, relieved that he could now drink his sugary drink.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Spencer said.

“I don’t know how you drink that much sugar. Isn’t it just safer to drink fruit juice?” you asked as you took a seat.

“Actually, most produce naturally contains sugar, and fruit typically packs more than vegetables. Without fiber in the mix, juice is essentially just the natural sugars and water found in its ingredients. Though natural sugar may seem harmless, your body does little to distinguish between the sugars in an apple versus those in a piece of candy. So, no, it wouldn’t be safer,” he rambled.

“You know, sometimes I wonder what it’s like to be you. What it’s like to think like you,” you chuckled with a shake of your head.

“A lot of hard work,” he blushed. Looking around the office, you cause Morgan staring at you and Spencer with a smile on his face. Rolling your eyes, you turned back to the work that was piled on your desk. You and Spencer shared a desk but that never bothered you. He has been your constant friend since arriving at the BAU. He taught you the ropes, helped you get accommodated, and treated you like you were apart of the family since day one.

He had been kind, gentle, and caring towards you all the time which is why you’ve developed feelings towards him. They didn’t happen overnight, it was a matter of time before you realized why you had butterflies in your stomach whenever he even looked your way. He couldn’t see what everyone else saw; he was beyond handsome, amazingly intelligent, and so adorable. He would never think twice about a woman like you even looking twice his way. It’s why you didn’t tell him of your feelings.

Everyone else in the BAU knew of your feelings for him as well as his feelings for you. Every morning you bought coffee for him just the way he liked. You’d take him out to lunch when he’d forget to eat. You’d always ask about his day when it was over and he was walking you to your car. You two cared so much for the other that you didn’t see just how much your feelings have grown.

In your work bag, you had bags of snacks that you knew Spencer would enjoy, so when it came around that time to eat a snack, you would put them on his desk and watch him eat it with a smile. Everyone else questioned why you didn't bring them snacks, but they knew the answer to that one. Morgan and Garcia pushed you and Spencer to tell the other about your feelings, but you would shut her down just like Spencer did with Morgan. Spencer thought you were way out of his league when you thought you weren't good enough to be with a man like him.

You were too beautiful for him, and you weren't smart enough. He was too awkward and clumsy, and you were too ordinary for him. It was like either/or with everything that went on in your mind, so you decided to forget about it. Being Spencer’s friend was a hell of a lot better than not knowing him at all. At least this way, you could be close to him, laugh with him, and share his victories.

There had been a case recently about a celebrity, Lila Archer, having a stalker. She was getting death threats, pictures of her, and anonymous flowers sent to her trailer. The BAU was called onto the case, and Hotch assigned Spencer to be her personal bodyguard until the situation resolved itself. You wouldn’t have a problem with that because if anyone could protect her, it would be Spencer, but you were kind of insecure.

Lila was beautiful in every way. She was skinny, toned, blonde, had blue eyes, was funny, and she seemed especially interested in Spencer. Of course, he didn't see the flirtation she sent his way which only angered you more because she was going to keep doing it. It wasn’t in your place to stop her from advancing on him because you weren't his girlfriend, and if he wanted to date someone like her then so be it. You two have grown close recently, so you hoped he would see through her ac and choose to stick by your side.

Since he was her bodyguard, he stayed at her house with her just in case anything were to happen. Hotch requested him to check up every half hour with news on what was going on. Spencer followed every rule to the T, but the only problem was that you hadn’t heard from him in over an hour and a half.

“Y/N,” Hotch spoke, calling you over to him. Leaving JJ’s side, you approached your boss professionally. “I need you to go check on Lila and Spencer and see what happened. He isn’t checking in for a reason. Go see what it is.”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded as you grabbed one of the company’s vehicle’s keys. Quickly heading out you drove to Lila’s house which wasn’t that far away. As you approached her front door, it was locked which was to be expected. Thinking that maybe her gates were open, you headed out to the back to see if you could spot one of them in one of the many windows from the back. Luckily the gate was short enough for you to reach over and unlock it from the inside, so you walked in with your gun present in case there was danger.

As you turned the corner, you saw a lump in the pool, and as you walked closer, you saw it was Spencer and Lila. Making out. Every vein in your body froze with the realization that you would never be good enough for him. Lowering your gun in shock, you stared at them as he kissed her with passion. Her hands were all over him, and you looked away as tears began to brim the surface of your eyes. She was everything you weren't so it made sense why he chose her over you.

Seeing as how there was no real danger here, you turned and left the property, taking your sweet ass time to get back to the main office. When you did, the only thing you told Hotch was that they got caught up making dinner and watching a movie to check in. Thankfully he believed in it, but Morgan could sense that something was off. There was something you were hiding from Hotch, something that clearly made you upset.

********************************************************************************************

When the case was over, everyone was on the plane back to Quantico. It was silent as most of the team were sleeping, except you, Spencer, and Morgan. He had his headphones on, but his eyes were on you and your best friend. With almost every plane ride, you and Spencer played a few games of chess which he always won. In the past, you told him repeatedly why he would want to play you when you always lost, but he always said he loved the challenge and the stimulating environment. However, this time, you just weren't into it.

“You can start,” Spencer smiled.

“No thanks,” you said in a monotone voice. He snapped his eyes to you in concern, sensing something was wrong. “I don’t want to play.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just don’t want to play. I’m going to see if I can sleep for a bit,” you said as you got up, making your way over to the other side of the plane and took a seat. Spencer frowned but let it go, afraid he did something to make you like this. Morgan took off his headphones before approaching you, taking a seat directly across from you.

“You okay, kid?” he asked quietly. Before you came alone, Spencer was the youngest of the team, but now it was you only by a few years. Spencer was currently 25 years old with you being just 21.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You were fine when you left to check on Spencer and Lila. Did something happen with them?”

“Lila Archer. Why is he even coming home? He should just stay with her if he likes her so much,” you scoffed.

“I see. You don’t get it, but you will. You both will. He’s on this plane for a reason,” he grinned as he stood up.

“Yeah, it’s his job,” you answered as he walked away although, he didn’t answer back.

********************************************************************************************

For the next few days, you couldn’t help but be cold towards Spencer. There was no morning coffee waiting for him, no snacks, and no lunch. Whenever he asked to do something, you would make some lame excuse as to why you couldn’t. He always seemed oblivious which is why he never pressed it further. He was going crazy trying to rack his brain as to why you were acting this way to him. He tries to ask you, but he never could get an answer.

It’s not like you wanted to treat him this way, but whenever you looked at him all you saw was Lila. Lila and him in the pool making out. Lila with her hands all over his body as he kissed her with passion. Now that you were back in Quantico, you had some time to think about the whole mess which you didn't like. It was the precise reason why you called in “sick” one morning. You couldn’t go to work and see Spencer one more time without bursting into tears.

“Where is Y/N?” Spencer asked when he saw your desk empty. YOu usually came in before he did.

“Took a sick day,” Morgan replied.

“Sick? She was feeling fine yesterday. Is she okay?” he panicked, hoping you were alright.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you go check on her for us? I’m sure she would love the company,” he smirked, knowing you weren't really sick.

“Hotch, can I go see Y/N? She might need some help,” Spencer asked his boss. When he and Morgan exchanged looks, they both were on the same page.

“Make it quick,” he nodded. Spencer quickly packed his things before heading out, driving to your house as quickly as he could. When he got there, he knocked on the door and waited.

No one was supposed to come over, and everyone you knew was at work, so who could that be? Leaving your blanket behind, you walked to the door before opening it blindly. There was no peephole despite you complaining to your landlord about it. When you saw Spencer there, your whole body froze.

“You’re not sick,” he observed.

“Yes, I am,” you faked coughed, hoping he was dumb enough to fall for it.

“That was a fake cough, your nose isn’t red from blowing it, I don’t see any tissues scattered on the floor, no bowl with soup, or a trash can in case you need to throw up. Plus, I can’t smell cough medicine on your breath, and I know it’s strong because I’ve had it before. And you’re watching Grey’s Anatomy which isn’t the show you watch when you’re sick. You watch Spongebob because it makes you laugh.”

“Shit,” you muttered, knowing you could never fool him.

“What’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me all week. Did I do something to make you upset?”

“Ask Lila. I’m sure she would just love it if you called her. Maybe she might fly you down there so you two can resume kissing,” you glared as your mouth spit out words.

“You s-saw that?” he stuttered.

“That’s what you have to say? You know what, bye Spencer. Go back to work,” you said as you began closing the door. However, he stuck his hand out an walked in as if he owned the place.

“Are you jealous?” he wondered.

“What, no,” you scoffed.

“I think you are. Your body froze when you saw me--”

“Okay, fine, I am. So what?” you cut him of, not in the mood to hear another diagnose.

“But why?”

“Because maybe I like you? As in more than a friend. Maybe it’s because when I saw you kiss Lila I wished it were me instead?” you confessed, watching his reaction closely.

“Y-you like me?” he asked and you nodded as your answer. “But why?”

“Are you seriously asking me that question? Look at you, Spencer. You’re unbelievably handsome; I have a hard enough time as it is trying to keep my hands off you. You’re so smart and funny, and caring, and you give me butterflies when you just look at me. But, I’m not Lila. I’m not skinny like she is, or a model, or blonde with blue eyes. I’m just me. I’m not that smart, I’m not that attractive, and you deserve someone like her. At least she had the balls to kiss you.”

“I don’t want Lila. She kissed me. I didn’t know what to do so I ran with it. But she’s not you. I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. You’re very smart otherwise you wouldn’t be where you are now. You’re funny, you always take care of me, and you’re my best friend. I will always choose you,” he said as he blushed.

“Spencer,” you whispered as he walked closer to you.

“C-can I kiss you?” he stuttered, afraid to even ask the question.

“You never have to ask me that for my answer will always be yes,” you grinned, grasping his tie and pulling him down towards you. His lips met yours passionately, and you finally felt at home. You were right where you belonged, and you never wanted to leave.

********************************************************************************************

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thereluctantinquisitor · 4 years

Note

❝ I’ll pay for your [meal/coffee/groceries/etc] ! ❞ for modern darrus? :))

Okay so I used the prompt for inspiration but didn’t really incorporate the exact quote, so… don’t sue me!

–

“I, ah… just a second. Hold on.”

Cyrus could feel his cheeks heating up as he frantically dug through his wallet, checking every card slot for a loose coin. Despite what felt like desperate tunnel-vision on his fumbling hands, he was hyper-aware of the line behind him, other people’s groceries already lined up on the belt, fingers thrumming along the handles of shopping carts. God, this wasn’t happening. This wasn’t fucking happening. He’d find something. He had to have something lying around…

Glancing up at the unimpressed cashier, he swore softly to himself, tossing his wallet on the narrow counter and digging through his pockets. His fingertips brushed paper, and fora second he allowed himself to hope, but he just pulled out an old receipt, crinkled beyond recognition, stained slightly blue from his jeans. He threw that on the counter too, his heart hammering in his chest because he was at the front of the fucking line and he’d been rummaging for over a minute and people were watching.

The cashier cleared his throat. “Sir, do you need to—”

— “No, I don’t.” In truth, Cyrus had no idea what the guy was even planning to suggest. Use his phone to pay? Go to an ATM? Yeah, sorry buddy, neither option was going to make this shit any better. He must have spent the last of his money on gas, and his paycheck wasn’t coming in for another five days.

Fuuuuck.

He glanced at the bag of groceries. It wasn’t even enough that he could pretend he had just got carried away and over-shopped. It was basic shit - water, a couple of cans of spaghetti, alcohol wipes, bread. That sort of thing. Someone coughed behind him in the line and Cyrus felt the last of his resolve waver and crumble to dust.

“Just… forget it,” he muttered, snatching his empty wallet off the counter and shoving it back into his pocket. “I don’t—”

— “Hey, there you are!”

A loud voice interrupted Cyrus’ living nightmare. He turned to see a tall blond man working his way through the line, smiling sunnily, murmuring ‘excuse me’ and ‘sorry’ as he wove his way towards…

… him.

“Phew, just made it! Thanks for stalling. Forgot which checkout you went to.” He winked at Cyrus and placed a small pack of ibuprofen on the counter. “Don’t you just hate it when you remember something at the last minute?” He seemed to direct the comment to the cashier before turning to commiserate with the person next in line. Apparently the plight was universal, as both laughed quietly and nodded, as though partaking in some kind of inside joke. Still smiling, the blond turned back to the cashier, slipping a bill out of his wallet. “Anyway, really sorry for the hold up. How much?”

The rest of the transaction passed in something of a blur. The stranger paid for… well, everything. All the irritation Cyrus had sensed from the people around him before seemed to give way into a strange kind of exasperated amusement as the blond gave the line a final apologetic wave, scooping up the grocery bag and nodding his head towards the door. “Alright, let’s go.”

“Uh… sure.” In truth, Cyrus had no fucking idea what to do. The guy had his groceries. Well, more like commandeered his groceries. He could just take them, really. They were technically his. As the blond moved towards the automatic doors Cyrus found himself following like a lost puppy, although without the requisite enthusiasm. It was wariness that kept him a few paces behind the man, his attention on the bag swinging absently by his side.

What was he up to?

They paused once they were near the edge of the carpark, near a cafe in the process of recovering from the afternoon rush. The tall man turned, smiled again, then seemed to realise with a start that he was still holding the bag. “Oh! Here - sorry. These are yours.”

Cyrus just stared at the bag, then glanced back up at the blond. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know.” He waggled the bag, the paper crackling as it swayed. “But I did, so… you might as well take them.”

Every fiber of Cyrus’ being wanted to tell him to keep them. That he didn’t need them. But the empty pit in his stomach was a constant reminder that he wasn’t in any position to skip another meal. Shit, he’d salivated over canned spaghetti.

So he took the bag.

“Thanks,” he murmured, then cleared his throat. “Look, I don’t have a lot right now, but I can pay you back. Just… I don’t know. Tell me a place to meet you next week.”

The blond seemed taken aback by the suggestion, paused, then broke into a bright smile. “Hey, I’m more than happy to meet up with you next week, but I don’t want you to pay me back or anything. Just… think of it as a favour.”

Cyrus shook his head. Mostly in disbelief. “A favour?” he repeated. “I don’t even know you.”

“Oh! Right.” The blond immediately held out his hand. “Darren Miller.”

Feeling like he was constantly on the back foot and racing to catch up, Cyrus shook his hand on instinct. “Uh… Cyrus.”

“Nice to meet you!” His grip was firm. If anything, it lingered a little longer than Cyrus was used to but… not necessarily in a bad way. He wasn’t really sure how to explain it. When Darren did let go, it was with a kind of amused half-smile that did something strange to Cyrus’ chest. “There,” he continued with a satisfied nod. “Now we know each other.”

“Not really…” Letting his hand drop to his side, Cyrus tried to salvage some remnant of his pride. “Listen, I was serious about paying you back. I don’t just take money from people.”

Darren cocked his head, a lock of his blond hair flopping from one side to the other. “You didn’t. I gave it to you.” He shrugged. “Besides, someone paid for mine once. It’s kinda like… ugh, what’s that thing from that movie? With the kid and the assignment…?”

Cyrus quirked a brow at the man. “Pay it forward?”

It was, apparently, the correct answer. Darren’s face lit up and he nodded excitedly. “Yeah! Wow, I haven’t seen that in so long…”

“It was… kind of a downer. From memory.” Cyrus didn’t remember much of it - only that he cried at the end. But he was a kid at the time, which meant there was probably nothing to really cry over.

“Yeah, I cried so hard at the end.” Darren laughed as Cyrus watched him, wondering if the tall man could read his mind somehow. “But then again, I cry in most movies. And some ads. Have you seen that Thai life insurance ad? It’s so…” Something about Cyrus’ expression must have finally registered because Darren trailed off and, for the first time, a pink flush crept up his neck and onto his cheeks. “I’m… rambling, aren’t I?”

Despite himself, Cyrus gave a snort of amusement. “Yeah. A little.”

Was it weird that a part of him wanted to add ‘but I don’t mind’?

“Sorry. I do that when I’m nervous. AH, I mean—” For a few seconds, it seemed like Darren was planning to salvage his sentence, but then he just sighed and gave up with a sheepish chuckle. “Just… sorry. I’m not normally this bad.”

Nervous? Why would he be nervous? He’d just sidled through a grocery line like Cyrus’ knight in domestic armour. Shit, Cyrus was going to eat tonight because of him. “No, I… you’re fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Darren favoured him with a grateful look. Then his gaze flicked back down to the small grocery bag and a faint frown creased his brow. “Those… aren’t meant to last you a week, are they?”

Cyrus froze. How did he…?

Right. He said he could pay him back next week. Fuck, why did he even open his big mouth?

“It’s enough,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t need much.”

“Right. Okay then.” Darren was nodding, but there was something about his tone that suggested he didn’t believe the lie. Admittedly, it was a pretty poor one. “Hey, how about instead of meeting up next week, we might up again later tonight?”

Cyrus frowned. “Why?” He already told the guy he wouldn’t have the money until next week.

Again, Darren’s cheeks reddened, and he reached up, scratching his cheek. “I dunno… might be fun? There’s this bar a few blocks away that does open mic Fridays. You get a mix of things - singers and comedians and stuff. It’s always interesting. If you’re, ah… y’know… interested.”

It took a few solid moments before Cyrus realised what was actually happening. “Are you asking me out?”

Darren chuckled, seeming almost relived that Cyrus had at least understood that much. “Trying to! Although I’m getting the feeling I’m not doing a very good job.” He sighed. “Sorry. I don’t really… do this often. If I’m making you uncomfortable just say the word and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“No, you’re… you’re fine.” In truth, Cyrus wasn’t used to being asked out. Picked up? Sure. He cleared his throat, acutely aware of the bag of groceries in his hand. “Look, I want to go with you, but I don’t exactly have the cash for eating out.”

“That’s okay! My idea, my shout. That’s how it works, right?”

Cyrus supposed that was true. Besides, if all else failed, it was a free meal. One that wasn’t from a can. So, he relaxed, regarding Darren for the first time with something other than skepticism. “You know what? Sure. Why not.”

The grin the blond man shone back at him was dazzling - it was like Cyrus had made his whole year in a few simple words. “Seriously? Great! Here, let me give you my number…”

As Darren rummaged around for his phone, Cyrus couldn’t help but shake his head slightly in disbelief. Of all things he expected to happen today, having his groceries paid for and going on a date was the furthest from likely.

But hey, maybe sometimes even he got to catch a break.

#reluctant writes #reluctant replies #darrus #darren miller #cyrus #modern au #meet cute #where cyrus is doing his best to make ends meet #and darren goes from calm and collected to the living embodiment of Gay Panic(TM)#the dawn squad #anonymous

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hilllsnholland · 5 years

Text

Everything I Need To Hear

Pairing: Rich!Tom x Reader (Basically RichKid!Tom but a tad older)

Wc: 1.8k

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy but its fluff

Summary: Telling you fiance that you’re pregnant is nerve-wracking

A/N: What can I say? Dad!Tom makes me so soft and @mrs-hollandstan keeps teasing me with it!! Also RichKid!Tom is amazing? And I might make a series of this after MCBYL. Depends if y’all like it though.

The bright white lights of the room made you feel hotter than you already were. The nerves were eating at you. It had been two weeks since you figured out you were late, and now you’re late late. You had bitten your bottom lip until it became numb, your mind wandering and memorizing the gold trim of the bathroom. You stared at the pregnancy test that sat on the marbled counter and for a second you can’t breathe.

You know how you got here though. Tom had taken you to Switzerland for a ski trip as an anniversary present. After a whole day on the slopes, the two of you had cuddled up next to the fire with a glass of pinot grigio, your head on his chest while his fingers played with the bottom of your sleep shorts. The heat of the moment overcame you, not caring about how you had forgotten your birth control at home and Tom didn’t pack any condoms. But at the moment you didn’t care, the two of you wanted each other in the most intimate way.

The memory was wiped from your mind as the test changed. For a second, everything was cold. You didn’t know what you expected, but it was still surreal. Your eyes scanned Pregnant on the test over and over again. Your mouth fell slightly but no words slipped through your lips. Emotions overwhelmed you as the room started spinning. You were not upset, but it was a lot to handle when you weren’t planning for it.

You had always wanted children and Tom had always agreed. He’d say three every time. Two boys and a girl that looked just like you. But this was not part of the plan. The two of you had been together for two years and were engaged, but kids were a far off plan. Something to think about in three to five years, not months before your wedding. You exhale and place the test in your purse, knowing the maids might snoop if you threw it away or hid it in the bathroom.

Tom would be home soon and you needed to recollect yourself before he arrived. He was spending the afternoon with his brothers at the golf course, getting a couple of holes in before the two of you needed to meet with the wedding planner. You walked outside to the rose garden to get some fresh air, your mind flooded with a hundred thoughts as you held your normal sized stomach.

The memory of Christmas flashed before you. You sat next to Tom around the dazzling Christmas tree, presents abundant for the Holland clan, and the house was decorated beautifully. Not only were the Hollands rich, but they loved Christmas so they went all out. Full-size Nutcrackers, garland around every post and railing, and music played at all times in the background. You stared at Harry and his wife, Brooke, playing with their one-year-old daughter and her new toys. Your heart melted at the sight, Tom also seemed smitten as he couldn’t stop smiling.

“She’s so precious.” You sigh.

“You wanna hold her?” Harry asks and holds up the child.

You didn’t even respond, you take the girl from his arms and hold her tightly. She moved around in your arms and babbled a bit, but she cuddled into your chest as she was falling asleep. It had been a long day and she was tired after being stimulated by the lights and sounds. Tom watched the two of you, his eyes almost turning to hearts, and he took a picture.

“When are you two gonna have kids?” Paddy asks as he turns around his seat.

“One day bud. Let us get married first.” Tom replies but damn did he want to make you a mom right there.

It seemed like fate now. You remember that moment wanting to have a talk with Tom about having kids but talked yourself out of it. Funny how things work. You looked across the garden and rubbed your hands together. You were excited, you wanted to have this baby, but Tom’s reaction scared you. He was well off, money would not be an issue. He had enough money to take care of a village of kids, but was Tom ready? He talked about being a dad all the time, but it was always future tense. Never speaking about in the moment because it seemed impossible for you to get pregnant because you were so careful.

You heard Tessa barking across the lawn and lump landed in your throat. Tom was definitely home early and it was time to face your fiance. Tom will take it well, you kept saying that over and over again but nerves still flooded your body. You entered the house through the outdoor breakfast doors, Tom was sitting in the kitchen getting a drink of water. He instantly brightened up as he crossed the room to you. His tight polo showed off his beautiful arms and his trousers were fitted nicely around his torso. He looked like a whole snack and you knew that was how you got pregnant.

“Afternoon love, how was your day?” Tom kisses the top of your head and wraps his arms around you. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Your words are shaky as you return his embrace. “I’m fine. How was your time with the boys?”

Tom started going off about Sam’s swing and you completely zoned out. All you could think of was babies and Tom. It was tunnel vision to you, all you could see was Tom holding a beautiful baby in his arms. You only snapped from your daydream when Tom started talking about Harry and his daughter.

“Harry had to leave to go pick up the little munchkin. She’s getting so big now.” Tom rambles as he turns away and cleans out his cup in the sink.

“Yeah, “ You pause for a second and clear your throat. “I wonder when they’ll have another.”

“Brooke said she wants another in like a year or so. Harry said he wants to wait at least three but you know he is.”

Tom seems oblivious to your softened glance, your heart pounding harder as you skimmed over the topic. You wanted to yell it out but you had to wait a bit longer, get a sense of how Tom will react. You eyed your purse that sat on the counter, walking towards it slowly.

“The little darling deserves a playmate soon though. She’s a ball of energy and she needs a friend.” You were slow with your words, watching Tom’s reaction.

He didn’t quite get what you were saying, shrugging as he put the dishes away and looking back at you with that beautiful smile of his. Oh, how you hoped your baby would have his smile.

“Yeah, she does.” Tom looks at you and breaks out into an even wider smile.

He walks around the counter to get to you, wrapping his arms around your front and placing a hand on your stomach. You became tense, did he know already? Did he have some weird sense? Had you been too obvious? Tom kisses the top of your head and hums into your hair.

“One day love, we’re gonna make a beautiful baby.” Tom rubs his hand across your stomach and laughs. “You’re gonna be a great mom one day. I hope to be an even better dad. I’ll make sure that little babe has everything they’d ever want and I’ll love them as much as I love you.”

You felt tears form in your eyes and you slightly shake in his arms. Tom furrows his brows and turns you in his arms. He becomes concerned as the tears fall from your eyes. Tom tries to wipe them away and kisses your head.

“I’m sorry love did I say something to make you upset? I didn’t-”

“No, Tom,” You pause and grab the test from your bag and putting up for him to see. “You said everything I needed to hear.”

Tom’s eyes became large and his mouth drops wide open, you nod your head as he keeps mouthing words that you couldn’t understand.

“Holy shit,” Tom says as he pulls you into his arms, kissing your face over and over again. “I’m so fucking happy love.”

You let the rest of your tears to fall as Tom celebrate, picking you up and spinning you around the kitchen. Tom places you on the counter and cups your face, kissing you on the lips and letting himself also cry a bit. Just a bit though, he was overwhelmed with happiness and he couldn’t contain it. He pulls away and kneels down to your stomach, pulling your shirt up a bit and kissing it and rubbing a hand across it.

“There’s a baby in there.” He says in a dreamy voice.

“Barely. I’m only a couple of weeks. Five at most.”

“Doesn’t matter. You’re growing a beautiful baby and I can’t wait to meet him or her.” Tom kisses your stomach again and laughs. “You’re gonna be so fucking beautiful. I can’t believe I’m gonna be a dad.”

You pulled Tom from your stomach and up to face you. His eyes were watery but still as beautiful as ever. You gazed upon his face, hoping your future child would have his eyes or cheekbones or his gorgeous smile.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You cry again and Tom nods.

“Yes, we are. I’m going to spoil that little babe. Even more than you if that’s possible.”

You laugh and cup his face. He spoiled you with clothes, food, jewelry, and makeup almost every day. You couldn’t even think of what he’d do for your baby. You knew the baby would probably have every toy it ever imagined and their room would put yours to shame. A laugh and kiss your fiance again.

“I love you, momma.” Tom murmurs against your lips which makes your heart explode.

“I love you too, “ You point down to your stomach and smile. “And so do they.”

Tom leans his forehead against yours and holds you in a warm embrace. For the first time since you’ve taken the test, time had slowed down. You were in his arms and your hand covered the front of your stomach. You knew there was nothing much now, but you were overjoyed with the months to come that you’d grow bigger and have a beautiful bundle of love soon enough. You bring Tom closer, kissing him again and again.

“You’re gonna make a perfect baby and I’m gonna love you both with every last fiber of my body. I’m going to spoil you two until you have everything you could possibly need. I love you two so much and I can’t wait to meet this perfect baby.”

You kiss him again and his hand is now over yours on your stomach. Flashes of your future come to you, a beautiful bump and telling all of your family and friends. A perfect little son or daughter to spoil, parent, and cherish for the rest of your lives. It was everything you needed and Tom had reassured you.

“Perfect, that’s everything I needed to hear.”

#Tom Holland imagines #Tom Holland imagine #Tom Holland fluff #dad!tom #dad!tom holland #richkid!tom #richkid!tom holland #Tom Holland blurbs #Tom Holland x reader #Tom Holland fanfic #tom holland headcanon #Tom Holland oneshot #Tom Holland x you #Peter Parker imagines #Peter Parker fluff #Tom Holland smut #Tom Holland fics

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