#cried while having breakfast in the calm of an august morning
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Beneath August's spotlight, but with each breath, I am comparing the month's heat to your gaze, to what it is like to be under you(r eyes).
Deep in my heart's ocean, I do not understand what love is, unless you call it obsession, desire, want. And it is patient, yes, and how it fractures me-- to love is to give everything to you (mind, heart, soul).
—Kali
#mind full of flow#poetry#poets on tumblr#spilled ink#literature#the evening of the 27th revolution and like every year since i was 12#i cried on this birthday too#cried while having breakfast in the calm of an august morning#cried while thinking of the past#cried while thinking about whether or not i've grown. i've changed.#or am i still rich with folly? and heartache yes.#but i am also so very loved#immeasurably loved#i didn't know it could be like this#that someone could think of me so sweetly#that someone could give me what i dream of#several in fact#and what do i desire? to be understood. as much as any person can be when what we know best. is ourselves.#and i'm generous in return#see me for who i am and i'll give you the cosmos#and i do#moving heaven is nothing for someone who loves you#i love you.
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Prompt: Loud from @into-the-jeggyverse (August 31)
Word count: 465 words
Pairing: Jegulus (modern AU)
⚠️ Warnings: slightly bad language
Sirius knows Regulus' two types of "loud”. The first kind is uncomfortable for anyone but James, and Sirius heard it more times than he wanted to. The second type of loud is how Regulus and James entered his apartment this morning.
"I can't believe you did that! You are not in your right mind!”
Yes, it was the "James did a stupid thing" loud. Sirius sighed as he didn’t even drink his morning coffee as the two lovers stormed into the kitchen. Regulus came straight to his brother and held out his arm to James, who had a strange smile on his face.
"You won't believe what he did!" the younger brother cried. "He's completely crazy!"
Sirius looked into his best friend's eyes and saw a glint he had never seen before. It was full of satisfaction and pride, as if James found the cure for cancer and rid the world of hunger and poverty.
"What happened so badly that it couldn't wait until after the coffee hour?" Sirius asked with a slight frown.
"Tell him what you did" Regulus ordered but as James opened his mouth his lover stopped him. "No! You know? I think you said enough!".
"What's with the fuss?" Remus asked, entering the room with a long yawn. "What did James do this time?"
Yes, Remus knew Regulus's loud types too. There was no way he wouldn't come into contact with them, no matter how hard he tried to avoid the first kind.
“Well, we decided to go out for breakfast at a cafe. And we happened to run into mother there,” Regulus said, making Sirius grimace in disgust. “I told James to shut up and go eat somewhere else, but mum started shouting at both of us. And when she started to insult me for being a bad son, James turned around with that big smile on his face and told her he was sorry, but he's allergic to dogs and...”
"...And she's such a bitch that he might go into anaphylactic shock if she gets any closer" James said keeping his happy expression on his face.
"You didn't say that…" Sirius said in a whisper and stood up solemnly to give his friend the biggest hug ever. "Marry me."
Regulus let out an exasperated growl and went to the bathroom to calm down, while Remus remained in his chair, blinking in shock. If James were to marry Sirius right now, he couldn't even be upset. If he had a mother like Walburga, Remus would have married James for that reply too. They knew for a fact that Regulus was upset now, but he too would realize what had just happened, and when he will acknowledge the greatness of the act, he would be queuing up for James's hand too.
#microfics#dailyprompt#marauders era#james potter#james x regulus#jeggyverse microfic#regulus black#jegulus#jegulus microfic#dead gay wizards
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hi, i saw your wilmon headcannons, i love them, do you have any more?
hey!! thanks for asking, i totally have more <3
here's pt 3 of wilmon headcanons ft. the boys being casually protective and besotted with each other
wille knew that simon's relationship with his father was bad and he knew about simon getting the drugs from micke but it isn't until after they're properly together that he finds out the full story. simon cries nearly the entire time he tells wille about it, and wille pulls him into his lap, hugging him tightly and pressing kisses into his hair to help him calm down
since the incident with august, wille avoids going to the shooting range. he scared himself a little bit with how willing he was to hold a gun to someone's head, so he doesn't want to give himself anymore experience holding a weapon like that. it also doesn't help that marcus still works there, and wille is pretty determined to never see that guy again
wille isn't worried about seeing marcus because he's insecure; he knows simon loves him and that they're in this for the long haul. the issue is that rosh and ayub had told him (knowing simon wouldn't) about some of the things marcus had done/said to simon and wille is PISSED. like he recognizes simon's faults in the short lived relationship but he doesn't think it's any excuse for some of the things marcus said. basically, he's pretty sure that if he runs into that guy again, he's gonna end up in another fight
much like rosh and ayub were, linda is very wary of wille the second time around. she's as polite as ever because that's who she is, but her eyes watch the prince carefully and she doesn't smile at him as much as she used to. wille notices but just takes it because he's convinced he deserves it, but simon stands his ground against his mama, silently begging her to knock it off and trying to convince her that wille won't hurt him again
it takes a while, but linda eventually comes around when wille shows up at her door one day, saying that simon was having a bad day and asked him to come over. she hadn't even been aware that her son (who had always been a mama's boy) wasn't feeling well, but he'd told wille and the prince had immediately come over. she sees them curled up on simon's bed, her son barely even visible as wille holds him and speaks softly to him, and she realizes how deeply these two care for each other. wille gets an extra long hug from her when he leaves that night
the first time they spend the night together after wille's speech, they both get shoved onto the table at breakfast the next morning by the boys of forest ridge. both their faces are tomato red and simon is attempting to hide his face behind his hands, but both of them are giggling and sharing shy glances, which just increases the teasing and friendly torture for the rest of the day
wille still stands by the fact that it's a stupid, fucked up tradition and it's no one's business who was in whose room or when, and simon agrees wholeheartedly, but they both mind it a little less when they have to deal with it together, knowing that everyone in the House supports them and treats them the same as they so everyone else
wille is usually prone to big gestures of affection (along with just constantly telling simon he loves him and the egregious amounts of pda), but simon is all about the little things. he keeps a bag of wille's favorite candy in his locker, he walks wille back to forest ridge when they're done for the day, he writes little notes and slips them into wille's workbooks, etc. when any of these occur, wille swears he falls in love all over again
wille is 100% the "plan out the next 10 years of our life" type of significant other. he wouldn't admit any of this to simon because they're young and he doesn't want to freak him out, but he's gone the full 10 yards. their wedding is planned, their imaginary children's names are picked out, they'll have a cat- EVERYTHING. he accidently mentioned it to felice once, who thinks it's hilarious (but she keeps his secret anyway)
#young royals#young royals headcanon#prince wilhelm#simon eriksson#young royals season 2#yr s2 spoilers#wilmon#linda young royals#marcus young royals#wilhelm young royals
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wicked witch of the west
dad!tom holland x mom!reader. fluff + crack. language. main masterlist. tom holland masterlist. taglist.
“please do sweetheart, you deserve a day off,” tom murmurs as he lies in between your legs. he kisses your shoulder and trails his lips all the way to your exposes belly.
“mm, is that so?” you whisper softly and thread your fingers through his hair.
“it very so. mummy’s gotta take breaks more, alright?” he gently holds your hips and caresses you lovingly. you bite your lip and nod in response, giggling as he blows raspberries into your lower torso.
a faint cry suddenly erupts from down the hall. “i think she’s awake,” he murmurs, continuing to press kisses against your skin. “that’s my cue.”
“have fun,” you tease and tilt your chin up as he leans over your body to connect his lips with yours.
“of course,” he chuckles and glares at you playfully. “let me know if you need anything darling. whether it be to go to the shop and get those pad thingies, or maybe some snacks?” he cups your face, giving your cheek a gentle squish as he speaks.
you stifle a laugh and push him away playfully. “thank you, tommy. i will let you know. love youu,” you say as he dramatically pulls away from you.
“if i die, know i love you more,” he cries out and closes the door. you giggle to yourself and shake your head, moving off of the bed you share with him. you recently got your period, and given you just gave birth to your second child not too long ago, they’re supposedly a lot more painful than usual.
you and tom have two beautiful children, a sassy two year old girl and a quiet baby boy. lila and august. lila definitely has tom’s attitude and dramatic antics, but you honestly couldn’t get enough of it. she’s a little him, constantly running around and mimicking your silly husband. august who is only a month old is already beginning to look like you and you’re both more than excited to see how he turns out.
you already had some breakfast that tom made for and brought to you while you you were in bed. you swear you could never stop falling for him. to you, it’s as if you manage to fall in love with something about him everyday. you tidy up the bedroom and walk off to the bathroom to freshen up.
“daddy?” lila cries out loudly while sitting up from her bed.
“good morning flower, i’m here. what’s wrong? c’ mere,” on time he enters her room and rushes over to her, sitting down on the floor next to her bed.
she sniffles and lies her head against his shoulder, “i had a bad dweam. one where mummy a witch and she had this green face, it was scary. spider-man didn’t save me!”
“aw baby,” tom chuckles and cradles her head carefully, rubbing her back. “i’m spider-man, and look i’m here!” he grins at her.
she smiles slightly and sniffles, pulling away. “but where’s your suit?”
“i’ll show you soon, don’t worry. now c’ mon, breakfast baby,” he swoops her up in his arms.
“but where’s mummy?” she whines and holds onto him, playing with his face.
he chuckles and kisses her forehead. “mummy is resting for today, i will be watching you and august, mk?”
“okay,” she murmurs as tom takes her to the kitchen.
throughout the day you attempt to try and help by doing some chores but tom immediately sends you back into the living room or bedroom, or wherever you prefer relaxing. eventually you oblige and decide to do some self-care, take a bath, put on a mask and watch some netflix.
after lunch, tom manages to put august asleep but eventually dozes off as well. lila giggles at her snoring dad and looks around cluelessly, losing interest in the show that is playing on the tv. “i miss mummy,” she pouts and crosses her arms with frustration. her dad’s words, let mummy rest, flash through her mind but she smirks and brushes them off.
she waddles over to the pantry and pushes the door away, due to it already being open. she smiles widely when she notices a favorite snack of yours on the lower shelf and walks over to grab it. she squeals quietly and runs off toward your bedroom, said snack in hand.
“mummmy?” lila calls out quietly, knocking on the door.
you were dozing off until her gentle sweet voice fills your ears. you pause your show and sit up. you walk over and open the door, looking down at her. “yes, honey—?”
she lets out a terrified scream and drops the snack, running away from you. “DADDY! DADDY! DADDY!” she wails piercingly while making her way toward tom and august. the two jump awake, startled by the noise and look her way. august begins to cry at the commotion and tom quickly cradles him, rocking him back and forth.
“lila! what is it? are you okay?” he stands up and places august in his playpen, giving him a pacifier. august easily calms down and focuses on sucking the toy, looking around the place with wide curious eyes as his bigger sister continues to cry hysterically. you blink repeatedly to process what just happened. you lean on the doorframe and glance at your family, eyebrows knit in concern.
“m-mummy! it’s mummy, she’s got eaten by a witch, see i told you!” she cries and points at you accusingly. it then hits you that you’re wearing your green mud mask and instantly burst out laughing. in her poor, innocent ears your laugh imitates a witch’s laugh and she screams louder.
tom picks her up, holding her close while rubbing her back. “darling, what are you...?” he looks over in the direction she’s pointing and lets out a startled yell. “bloody hell, the hell is that! we gotta go!” he gasps and begins to run off.
lila sobs and you gasp too, glaring at him as he scurries away, flipping him off while his back is turned. “daddy, you forgot august!” she cries from her room.
“shit, you’re right! stay here, i’ll be right back,” he says hurriedly and rushes off to grab august. he picks him up securely and sticks his tongue at you, causing you to roll your eyes.
“oh mummy!” she wails and sits on her bed, waiting for tom and august to come.
“that was scary wasn’t it,” tom heaves, closing the door behind him as he sits next to her. she sniffs and nods, cuddling up to him. august is still clueless yet mindlessly sucking on his binky. tom and lila freeze at the sound of a knock on her door.
you shake your head and open the door, mask still on with an amused expression painted on your face. “seriously?” you cross your arms.
lila yelps and hides behind tom, as he begins to laugh loudly. you walk over and kneel down, holding out your hand. “baby girl, it’s me, mummy.”
your soothing voice puts her at ease and she pops her head out, smiling sheepishly. “oh.”
“no, it’s the wicked witch of the west,” tom covers his mouth while whispering back to her. you smack his forehead and he winces, holding the spot you hit. “just kidding!”
#kelly's drabbles#tom holland#tom holland drabbles#tom holland imagines#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fluff#dad!tom holland#dad!tom holland x mom!reader#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland x y/n#tom holland story#tom holland writing#tom holland one shot
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Hypothetically | Chapter 21-24
Summary: Reader and Spencer were friends in kindergarten, she watched him grow up and explore the world while she was still trying to catch up to him. now that they work together, they fall in love incredibly fast. friends to lovers, case of the week style story.
Warnings 18+: Murderers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Blood, Guns, mentions of autopsy, Fluff, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, bed-sharing, Riding, Unprotected Sex, Virgin Reader, Case of the Week, original crimes, Food mention, Smut, Oral Sex, Light BDSM, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Talk, obgyn appointments and info, Home Invasion, Past Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Emotional Manipulation, Grooming, Pedophilia mention, non-con oral (male receiving), Pregnant Sex, Daddy Kink, Breeding Kink, Homophobia, conversion therapy
A/N; thee case in c21 is personal to me, like fictional revenge.
word count so far: 70K (chapter 1-25)
chapter 21
Having Spencer all to herself for 3 weeks straight was an experience she’ll never forget. They had the whole month of January off together, painting and re-decorating their home till it was exactly how they wanted it. It felt like home, it was theirs for real now.
Painting the bedroom green was the best idea she’s ever had. When the sun finally woke them up every morning, it wasn’t as blinding. It was paradise. The golden beams of light cast a beautiful glow around the room, it was like she was in a magic forest at the start of every day.
Spencer was laying on his back, his hair scattered on the pillow. He looked so peaceful, sleeping with his mouth wide open. Y/N was leaning on her elbow, looking down at the beautiful man she had the pleasure of spending the rest of her life with.
She brushed the hair off his face, watching his nose scrunch up as he felt her fingertips on his cheek. The sun on his face made him glow, he looked like a gift from god laying before her.
“Good morning baby,” she whispered softly. Dragging her finger along his jaw and down his neck, “we get to go to work today.”
Spencer stretched as he woke up, slipping an arm under her and pulling her into his chest. She held on tight, kissing his neck as she settled in. “Morning,” he replied. Raspy as ever.
“Wanna go get breakfast?” She asked softly.
He laughed against her skin, “gotta feed the baby.”
“And the wiiiife,” she teased.
“Not for another 11 weeks and 2 days,” he corrected her. “But yes, we should go get breakfast,” he whispered after a moment.
“Come on get up,” she replied with a big smile. He patted her ass as she peeled out of his grasp. Sitting up and stretching, taking a look down at the basketball protruding from her stomach. “Damn.”
“What?” Spencer asked.
She stood up beside the bed and pulled her shirt up, showing Spencer how big her stomach was. Turning sideways so he really got a good look at it. Spencer leaned over and kissed her right on her belly button that was beginning to pop.
“I know your ears are on in there, I love you, Matthew,” Spencer whispered against her skin.
She couldn’t stop smiling, taking a moment to rub her hands over the bump in amazement. “Hi Mr. Matty MaGoo, mommy also loves you.”
“Mr. Matty MaGoo?” Spencer laughed, looking at her with the biggest smile.
“Yes,” She laughed. “It just came to me, and it's going to stick.”
“Derek’s been calling him Mini G,” Spencer added.
“We should tell him it's Matthew, then he can be little Matty G,” Y/N swooned. “Seriously let’s go I miss everyone.”
“Okay, okay go get ready then,” he insisted, getting out of bed and dragging her to the bathroom.
—
Spencer drove, giving her a chance to look over her work emails before the day started. She was still CC’d on a bunch of VICAP things, being able to snoop on what was coming in and inspecting it.
Sometimes Mindy would CC her in just for an opinion.
Subject: Found Something. From; Mindy Patel To; SSA Y/N Y/L/N, Unit Chief SSA Aaron Hotchner, SSA-CL Jennifer Jareau
There’s been a child abduction in Arizona, I’ve pieced together some thing’s I’ve been working on in the background that might help the case if you are called in to assist. Even if you are not I believe you should take a look at this.
Mindy Patel, VICAP.
Attachment
Year: 1998 Victim 1: Emily Lawrence - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 1998. Williams, AZ Found: June 10th, 2001. Camp Verde, AZ ME: decay has he placed at 48 hours postmortem when she was found - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.
Year: 2001 Victim 2: Olivia Tomms - 13. Kept till 16 Taken: August 3rd, 2001. Payson, AZ Found: June 23rd, 2004. Florence, AZ ME: decay has her at about 2 weeks postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.
Year: 2004 Victim 3: Shelby Summers - 13. Kept till 16. Taken: August 3rd, 2004. Peach Springs, AZ Found: July 16th, 2007. Keams, AZ ME: decay has her at over a month postmortem. - strangled, sexually assaulted long term, extensive throat damage. Never been pregnant. - COD: asphyxiation Info: good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped without care.
Year: 2007 Victim 4: Beth Green - 11. Kept till 13 Taken: August 3rd, 2007. Saint John, AZ Found: January 13th, 2010. @ flagstaff hospital. ME: COD complications from a miscarriage. Massive blood loss. - well taken care of. Throat damage. Signs of being detained long term. Info:good student, innocent shy girl. Followed the rules. Taken when walking home from school. Held for 3 years, assaulted and chained. Dumped with remorse like he didn’t want her to die, and he felt sorry because he loved her.
Newest abduction: Name: Sally Irvine - 12 Taken: February 3rd, 3pm. Middle School pick-up (missing 13 hours now) Witness Report: Italian/greek man. Early 30’s. Claimed to be her parents assistant. Sally was used to going home with random people from her parents' work. Handsome man, very charming and convincing. He wore a suit and drove a Silver Honda Civic. Rust at the back, partial plate HC8.
“Fuck,” Y/N cried silently as she scrolled through all the information, even in a compact form.
“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked, looking over at her with concern.
“Um,” she didn’t really know why she was reacting like this at first. Then it hit her. “Mindy sent me a case and it’s hitting a little too close to home.”
“Would you like to explain it yet? It’s okay if you want to process it alone,” Spencer comforted her easily like it was his second nature.
She let out a deep breath. “There’s a serial killer in Arizona that is kidnapping girls between 11 and 13, only keeping them 3 years. Every ME report says they have extensive internal throat damage, and 3 of the 4 found were never pregnant. This unsub is forcing them into oral for 3 years straight.”
“Fuck,” Spencer agreed. “I think we should take this one, if you can’t I would fully understand.”
“I think the unsub is my rapist.”
Spencer pulled over onto the side of the road. Putting the car in park and flashing the 4-ways. He turned to her softly and looked at her with a blank face.
“Walk me through it.”
“What?”
“If I’m going to go in there with you and tell Hotch that this is the same guy who hurt you, then you’re going to need to explain it to him and the team,” Spencer explained softly. “You’ve never even told me the full story, I don’t know anything about that summer other than the fact something happened. The first time you repeat this in front of me is going to be hard, and I don’t want you to have to do that in front of all of them.”
She couldn’t help herself from letting out a small sob, “okay.”
She took a few minutes to collect her thoughts, and calm down enough to get full words out of her mouth.
“When I was 12,” she started. “My mom went back to work, and she didn’t trust me to watch my brothers because they were rowdy and never listened to me. Like you said, they were more like my older brothers.
“My dad’s best friend, Jimmy, his wife had MS so she was home all the time. They had 3 older children and a few foster boys, she was used to lots of kids being there. And she had a pool to keep us occupied,” she bit her lip before she explained anymore.
“My mom’s birthday is June 8th. That’s when victim 1 was murdered,” was the first fact she explained that related to the case. She handed Spencer her phone so he could read and follow along.
“My dad is a Mason with the Masonic Lodge in Los Vegas, and he was becoming the master of his division on my mom's birthday that year, so we rented a hall and had a big party. Jimmy’s foster son was there, you remember Christopher Torsey? He was a freshman and I was in grade 6, about to enter grade 7, that was when the grooming started. He took me into the back room and asked if anyone had ever kissed me, I said no. He leaned in and kissed me in the dark and I was a giggly mess.
“My parents and his were really friends and he would come over all the time, our dads would drink in the backyard with our mothers till 1 in the morning most weekends. So I spent long periods of time with this boy for a few years, trusting him like a friend before he started anything. That summer he would always find a way to wander off with me, at first it was just kissing in different places where we could be alone together. Then he would touch my boobs, and he had me take my shirt off a few times.”
Spencer looked calm, but the redness in his face and the pulse in his neck told a different story. Her breathing got heavier as she had to recall it all, and she didn’t want him to be so upset.
“We worked at a local church camp together that July, we’d do crafts and sing songs and after all the kids left and we had to clean up, he’d find a way to take me to the room where they held the nativity scene out of season. He’d start kissing and touching me like normal, and then Kendra walked in once and saw and suddenly he went from obsessed with me, to disgusted, saying I came on to him and that it was all me. He was disgusted by me when we were in public, but he loved me apparently behind closed doors.”
“On August 3rd,” a tear slipped down her cheek. “The day the girls go missing. That was the first time he took me back to the shed and said ‘when two people are in love, they do things, and I love you. So you have to,’ He took his, you know, and I’d never seen one before. It was scary and I didn’t want to, I wanted to leave, but he pushed me against the wall and down to my knees.” She had to stop to take a breath, Spencer was crying silently as he watched her explain it all.
“He kept me trapped there while he did it,” she explained. “The worst part is that his parents were hosting a wedding that night, so no one could hear me basically screaming no over the music. He knew that. And so, when I complained about the sore throat the next day, my parents thought it was from all the singing.”
Spencer let out a shaky breath, he looked at her with so much love and sadness, she knew he loved her. She reached across the centre console and wiped the tears off his face, pecking his lips softly before sitting back to continue.
“The dates match up, he was Italian, they’re all 11-13 with throat damage,” she ran it down. “It’s him.”
Spencer licked his lips, wiping the tears off his face before taking a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go tell Hotch.”
Aaron stood up from his desk after Y/N explained the situation, walking up close to her with a sad smile on his face, “this was a very hard thing to come forward with. How would you like to participate in the investigation?” He was soft with her for the first time, it was surreal.
“Um, I’d like to come with you to Arizona,” she said softly. “when Garcia finds him, I’d like to be the one to interview him.”
“Do you think that is a wise idea?” He asked softly.
“When I was 16, years after everything happened. I went to Jimmy’s house for an event, and Christopher was there, and I went to his room. I was so desperate for the bullying to stop. For the lies, he had told about me to go away, that I went in there and apologized to him,” her voice almost disappeared as she got to the end of the sentence. Crying in disbelief. “2 years later he started abducting. I apologized to my rapist and he started kidnapping girls. I need to look him in the eyes and find out why he did it.”
“Okay, let’s tell the team.”
Y/N and Garcia spent an hour building the case files and compiling all the data they had on Christopher Torsey. Joining the team in the briefing room, where Spencer had already relayed the events to the team. Y/N didn’t need to describe it all 3 times in 2 hours.
She passed all the folders out, trying to avoid the looks the team gave her. They were sorry, they respected her, they wanted revenge for her. She knew it all came from a place of love, however, she hated being perceived by others.
It was a trauma thing. For so long people had the wrong idea about her, she was bullied and put down, and hated for no reason. She hates any form of attention, the glances and staring, the whispers of rumours being told as fact. It was stressful.
“Before we start,” she started softly. “Thank you in advance for your concerns, but I’ve been in therapy for 10 years. I’m very happy, this is gonna fuckin’ suck, but at the end of the day I’m coming home to a man who loves me, a baby on the way, and the best friends I can ask for. He’s going to prison. I win.”
Derek smiled at her, “that’s my girl. What did you find?”
“Christopher Torsey was born in November of 1979. His father was extremely abusive, he was in the ER a lot by the time he was 11. His mother killed herself in front of him when he was 12, he also watched his father rape his mother according to his child therapist,” Garcia started. Not knowing how to say the next part without Y/N crying.
“He uh, he said that his dad would tell his mom to be quiet. That-uh, I’m sorry, shouldn’t you say this?”
Y/N stepped in without a second thought. “He said that his father would hold the fact that he loved her over her head to force her into having sex with him. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“He’s our guy for sure. Do we have an address?” Prentiss asked.
“Yeah, he lives in a double-wide trailer in Cottonwood. Near the back with his own access to the main road,” Y/N explained. “I knew he moved to Arizona when Jimmy finally kicked him out. I haven’t heard from him in years.”
“Y/N is coming with us, wheels up in 20.”
—
Cottonwood PD waited for them to arrive before apprehending him. They were concerned that he would run, with his access to the woods and a four-wheeler in his possession, it was a matter of boxing him in quietly with a backup plan in place and men on the ground.
“Can I suggest something?” Y/N cut into the Police Chief and Hotch’s conversation.
“Sure.”
“Um, what if I walk up in our civilian clothes, and just pretend that we’re there to rub it in his face that I'm happy and in love,” Y/N suggested. “I can wear a wire, you can be in a surveillance van listening in. You’ll be right there if we see Sally or sense something’s up.”
“Are you sure you can do that?” Hotch asked her.
“I am,” she turned to Spencer, “if you can control your temper you can come. If not, I’ll show up with Derek and still rub it in his face that someone loves me now.”
Spencer sighed deeply as he contemplated it. “I’ll kill him,” he admitted. “Take Derek.”
“Let’s get suited up,” Derek patted Spencer’s shoulder. “I won’t let him hurt her again. Don’t worry.”
“I know.” Spencer looked disappointed.
Everyone left the room, leaving Spencer and Y/N alone. She wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug resting her face against his chest. He softly held her in return, rubbing his hands along her back with his cheek on her head.
“I love you, forever and always,” She reminded him. “And I know how much you love me, believe me. I wouldn’t have been able to do this if I didn’t truly believe Chris was wrong.”
She pulled back when she felt a tear on her head. She wiped it softly with her thumb as he leaned his cheek into her palm. “I am loveable, and you love me. I win.”
He laughed softly, “I won too.”
She pulled him into a soft kiss, “I’ll be back in your arms soon.”
“I’ll be in the van watching the whole time, I love you so much,” he added for good measure.
She smiled as she walked away, throwing a fist in the air like the end of the breakfast club. Knowing full well he’d never get the reference. JJ on the other hand, laughed as she followed with Spencer.
They changed into regular clothes, getting in a car from the impound lot and following the surveillance van. Morgan was quiet, Y/N knew he wanted to talk to her, to go over the plan, but he didn’t know how to. The wire wouldn’t be on till they walked out, giving Y/N and Derek their privacy if he ever chose to speak.
“Did you ever confront your guy?” Y/N asked.
He nodded, “Carl Buford. I got to show him who I am now, that I put men like him behind bars. That I’ll always win.”
“Is it a good feeling?”
Derek set his hand palm up on the centre console, looking at her softly as if to ask her to take it. She interlocked their fingers, he rubbed his thumb against her skin.
“You’re right, it fucking sucks. The original pain never goes away, but there is a content feeling knowing he won’t get to hurt another person, that he might get his ass kicked in prison,” he smiled that beautiful Derek smile. “I’ll always be here for when you need someone who gets it.”
“Thank you,” she smiled.
They pulled into the trailer park slowly, separating from the team as they approached Christopher’s trailer. “Just pretend you’re Spencer, treat me the way he would. I know Spencer tells you everything, go off of memory of what he’s said about me.”
“You know he tells me everything?” Derek asked softly, laughing a little to himself.
“Because he also tells me everything,” she smirked. “When he’s tired and he rambles, he tells me about his whole day and that includes when he asks you for advice.”
“You two are gross,” he smiled. “I hope I can replicate it.”
“Come on,” she laughed, getting out of the car and waiting for Derek at the hood.
She took his hand before walking up to the door, a hand on her belly to make it look bigger. Really wanting to show off that she was in a better place than he was.
She knocked, 3 times, stepping back so he could open the door. She didn’t feel scared, she felt anxious in excitement to watch Derek take him to the floor.
“Y/N?” She heard his voice for the first time in 13 years. “What are you doing here?”
“My therapist suggested that I come here and show you someone actually did end up loving me, regardless of what you said,” she explained.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he panicked, flashing his eyes back and forth between her and Derek.
“I can come in and explain it for you if you’d like?” Y/N smiled. “You’ve got nothing to hide I assume? I’m just wildly obsessed with you and a liar right? That’s what you told everyone so I wouldn’t be able to say you forced my head on your dick with the promise that you loved me.”
“I- I uh,” he stuttered. Starting to shake lightly.
“That’s what you do to all the girls, isn’t it, Chris?” Derek cut in, pulling the screen door open and watching as Christopher ran to the back of the house. “We got a runner!!” He announced to the wire.
Y/N didn’t run after him, she knew the team had him. She walked through the house to watch from the back door. Only to find Spencer stiff-arming him.
Christopher flipped over Spencer’s arm, hitting the ground before Spencer was on top of him. Spencer punched him in the face, once, twice, three times before he stopped. Sitting over the unconscious man as he caught his breath. Everyone just watched him. He rolled Christopher over, cuffed him and walked away into the woods.
Y/N carefully jogged into the yard, passing the bleeding and groaning asshole she used to know as she ran after Spencer. He was walking too fast, and he didn’t look like he was going to stop.
“Spencer Walter Reid!” She yelled at him as if she was his mother. “Stop.”
He stopped abruptly, huffing as he did so. He only turned around to face her when she finally caught up to him. “Don’t touch me yet,” he instructed her.
“Okay,” she stopped a foot in front of him. “Look at me, breathe. In and out.” She used her hands as she motioned a breath in, and a release out. She repeated it 4 times, watching him do the same.
“Can I hug you now?” She asked softly.
He nodded, stepping into her space and wrapping himself around her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“It was actually really appreciated,” she laughed. “I was debating if having a baby at 22 weeks was worth punching him in the face a few times.”
Spencer laughed softly into her shoulder. Squeezing her in his grasp as he breathed her in. “I love you.”
“I love you, more,” she smiled against his neck before pressing a soft kiss to his ever-beating pulse. “Let’s go see the team, come on.”
Y/N was adamant about searching the trailer with the team. Going to the surveillance van for a vest and gloves while Christopher was taken to the police station, and Spencer had his hand wrapped up.
It still smelled like him in there. The smell of his detergent mixed with smoke from the fireplace. It never changed. She noticed his PlayStation was on, he was still interested in games. He still slept with the brown comforter that was on his bed when she was 12. It was worn down, holes gathered at the bottom as it was almost see-through now.
She opened the closet to see a very large metal safe in its place. She took a deep breath, looking at the keypad to see what numbers had been worn down the most, guessing his password.
0803
It popped open, it made her feel sick to her stomach. As she opened it, she heard the muffled screams behind duck tape. Sally Irvine was tied up, hunched over in a tiny metal box while he played GTA.
She wanted to kill him.
“Hey, hey it’s okay,” she shushed the girl. “Sally, my name is Y/N. We’re here to take you home, you're safe now.”
Y/N took the tape off Sally’s mouth softly, the girl sobbed immediately. Not able to say a single thing as Y/N untied her and held Sally in her arms. Sally hugged her back as tight as she could, sobbing into her shirt as Y/N rocked her back and forth. Crying along with her.
“He did it to me when I was 12 too,” Y/N whispered.
Sally pulled back and looked at her with puffy eyes, “really?” She asked. Her voice low and scratchy.
“JJ can you get some water?” She called behind her. “Yes. I was his first.”
“Y/N,” the girl repeated. “That’s what he called me?”
She couldn’t stop the sick feeling in her gut, “let’s get you out of here.” She changed the topic, helping the little girl to her feet and to an ambulance.
Y/N smiled at her as she dropped her off with the EMTs, walking off into the woods as quickly as she could. She leaned over, holding her own hair back as she threw up on the ground.
She swatted away at the hand rubbing her back suddenly, continuing to hurl in the bushes as she heard them behind her, shushing her. She wiped her hand on her mouth before she calmed herself down.
She sighed and turned around to see Morgan. His arms were open for her to hug him, she buried her face in his chest as she cried. Not able to fully process all the information she just heard.
“Let’s get you home,” Derek whispered. Escorting her back to the car, she was done for the day.
chapter 22
Valentine’s day had come and gone by the time they finished their most recent case. Landing in Quantico very late on the 16th of February. Everyone departed the plane slowly, half asleep after the 3-hour flight.
“Did you guys miss any plans?” Y/N asked JJ and Emily as they walked together.
“Yeah,” Emily sighed, “I uh, I’ve been seeing someone.”
“Since when?” JJ asked, both her and Y/N suddenly not tired at all. They stopped on the tarmac and stared at her.
“Um, a few months now,” She blushed.
“Was this the sin to win weekend?” Y/N asked softly.
Emily nodded, “what’s sin to win?” JJ asked just as quietly.
“It’s a weekend for gay people in Atlantic City,” Emily replied. “It’s an easy way to mingle in a safe space.”
“Oh,” JJ was shocked. “Oh, so you’re, and you too?” She pointed at both of them as the information was processed.
Y/N and Emily smiled at her and laughed. “Bi? Yes,” Y/N replied.
“I’m still not sure,” Emily added. She sighed deeply, shaking her head as she tried to speak again. “I’ve never really enjoyed male company? It feels more like a performance than a relationship.”
“I mean good for you for noticing that now, if it wasn’t for Spencer I’d be in the same boat,” Y/N smirked at her. “He’s more than just a pretty face.”
“Wow,” JJ was shocked. “I would’ve never known.”
Emily placed her hand on JJ’s back, leading her towards the charter back to headquarters, “oh you poor, poor, heterosexual woman.”
“She has a cat, she cuts her bangs when she’s stressed and she bites her fingernails,” Y/N explained to JJ as they picked their seats. “She likes pussy, JJ.”
Emily smacked her arm lightly, all of them laughing hysterically. The boys walked onto the bus to their cackling, desperately wanting to know what was so funny.
“I was just telling them, I met someone and I’d like for you to all meet her soon,” Emily explained to the rest of the team. “I think you’ll really like her.”
“No way,” Derek smiled, high-fiving her. “Congrats dude, welcome to the dark side.”
“You too?” JJ was shocked. “Okay, put your hand up if you’re a straight person,” she stretched her arm into the air. Hotch and Rossi joined her.
“Really?” Spencer and Y/N looked at each other with excitement.
“What the fuck?” JJ was dumbfounded. “How did I not know this?”
“It just never came up before,” Derek shrugged. “Tell us more about this girlfriend of yours, Prentiss.”
“Or,” Y/N cut in. “you could bring her to Vegas in April.”
“Why?” Emily smirked at her.
“If you’re all free on April 23rd,” She teased them along. “Spencer and I would like you to come to our wedding at my parent’s house.”
“Oh!” JJ and Emily freaked, “holy shit!”
“So, you guys are in?” She laughed.
“Yeah!”
For 2 in the morning, the bus was the most excited they had ever been. And Penelope didn’t even join them on this trip. Normally it was her making this kind of excitement, Y/N basked in the happiness that filled the bus.
They discussed little details on the way to their cars, standing in the garage for a good 15 minutes as they planned the dates they’d need to arrange to have off. Hotch knew he could pull some strings to use everyone’s vacation time for a few days.
They exchanged hugs before breaking apart for the night. Planning to return around noon that same day. Giving them a sweet 9 hours of peace and quiet.
“We still need to invite Penelope,” Spencer whispered when they were halfway home. Interrupting the silence that Y/N was enjoying.
Y/N laughed softly, watching him drive with a smile on his face. “I only told the rest of them because Penelope somehow hacked into my calendar app, to plan a baby shower around my schedule, and saw the plans.”
“Of course,” he nodded along.
“So yeah,” she smiled. “She’s told me that she wants to throw me a baby shower/bachelorette party now.”
“That would be nice,” Spencer agreed, squeezing her thigh where his hand was always glued to her.
“If we even get more time off before the wedding, I’m crossing every appendage on my body in the hopes all the psychos take the day off!” She laughed, twisting her arms and legs in a demonstration.
He laughed, leaning against the wheel as he tried to keep his focus on the road. “I love you.”
“You better!” She teased him.
It went quiet again. She could hear the tires on the sandy slush. The grinding of pressure as the snow compressed into the tire tread. Small rocks being flicked up from the wheels, smacking the underbelly of the car as they approached their house.
She sighed as she saw the place, the beautiful green door illuminated by the porch light. Screaming ‘welcome home!’ As they pulled into the parking spot.
Sleep surprisingly came easier to her the more pregnant she got. She was used to laying on her left side now, she actually preferred it, because it means that every morning when she woke up, the sun came in just perfectly to make Spencer glow.
The alarm on Spencer’s table started to beep letting them know it was 10:30. She softly watched him roll over and smacked the machine before turning back to her and closing his eyes once more.
“No.”
She huffed in a silent laugh, getting closer to kiss the tip of his nose. “Time to wake up,” she whispered between kisses spread across his face.
He was trying his best not to smile as she peppered his skin with kisses. Pushing him onto his back so she had more skin to cover. It had been a while since they did anything together.
Between the cases and the baby, and everything Spencer learned about her past trauma. He’s been a little distant, and it was starting to make her worry. Dr. Korrapati promised that this sudden burst of anxiety was normal at this stage of pregnancy. It was what contributed the most to the nesting phase, but it still scared her.
She wanted to kiss him, to run her hand down his chest and palm over his boxers until she couldn’t take it anymore. So she did, just a little more seductively.
She moaned softly as she kissed the patch of skin under his ear and down his neck softly. She dragged her fingers over his skin, looping around his nipple as she sucked on his neck. She lifted her leg lightly over his, trying to get some friction between her legs as she kissed him.
“We should probably just go to work,” Spencer softly interjected.
She sighed, dropping her forehead against his shoulder and letting her shoulders slouch.
“I’m not broken!” She sat straight up as she yelled at him. “Can I please just fuck my boyfriend? I have been horny for Weeks,” she wasn’t sure where the sudden burst of emotion came from.
“Oh,” he sat up too, resting his hand on her back softly. “I didn’t realize you wanted to after everything, and the baby? You’ve had a rough few months.”
She laughed lightly, “Spence, of course I do?”
She looked at him softly, cupping his jaw in her hand. “I’ve had to process my trauma before. Yes, it’s still bothering me, and yes I have new trauma that I need to address with my therapist. But,” she emphasized. “I am a woman with needs, and one of those needs is getting railed before work by Doctor Reid.”
“You’re one hundred percent sure?” Spencer asked again.
She smiled and nodded, pushing him back down against the pillows. She resumed her last position, putting her leg between his so they could grind lightly and make out. “If it gets to be too much, I’ll ask you to stop.”
“Okay,” Spencer looked up at her, brushing her hair behind her ear as she hovered over him. “I love you.”
“Prove it,” she teased him, leaning in and kissing his neck again.
He reached behind her to grab her ass, she had noticed his hands gravitating there more as she gained pregnancy weight. She wasn’t complaining either, the way his hands felt on her skin was glorious.
He was putty in her hands, tilting his head to the side so she could kiss, lick and suck wherever she so pleased. She reached her free hand into his hair while he other kept her steady, in the perfect spot to grind against his boney hip.
He was all gasps and heavy breaths underneath her, she raised her leg lightly dragging it over his hardening erection before putting herself back in place. Just wanting to see how far along he was.
She rolled onto her back then, laying flat, waiting for him. He pushed his underwear to his ankles as he flipped on top of her. She was nothing but giggles as Her Spencer came out to play.
Opening her legs, she greeted him back into her grasp as he hovered over her. Both hands planted against the pillow as he looked down at her. His hair falling into his eyes, she pushed his hair back behind his ears.
“You might need a haircut soon,” she teased him, biting her lip softly.
“Shhh,” he whispered.
She took his right hand from beside her head, gripping him by the wrist and guiding him towards her mouth. Taking his middle and ring finger in, sucking on the digits softly. Making him release a sound she’s never heard before.
She looped her tongue around his fingers, spreading them lightly as she licked a stripe through them. Feeling his skin against her teeth, which only seemed to excite him more.
She pulled off with a pop, he looked mesmerized by the trail of spit that connected her bottom lip to his wet fingers. “Fuck,” he gasped as his breathing hitched.
“You know where to put them,” she whispered up at him, staring into his eyes as she bit her lip.
He kissed her quickly, pulling her forward so he could get the t-shirt she was still wearing off her body, throwing it off the bed as he kissed her neck, sucking a mark into the skin as he pushed his hand into her panties.
“Jesus,” he whispered against her neck as he felt how wet she was. “You weren’t kidding.”
Making her twitch slightly as he used the two fingers that were just in her mouth, to drag up and down on her clit. Rubbing it back and forth between the two knuckles.
“Fuck,” she breathed out as she gripped his hair. Palming his scalp while he kept kissing her neck.
She could feel him grinding against the bed as he kissed her, moaning against the space under her ear as he quickened his finger movements.
“I need you to fuck me, like yesterday,” she panted against his mouth, licking his bottom lip after.
He pulled away from her then, lifting her hips to drag her panties down. Keeping them on one of her ankles as he gripped the base of his cock and sat on his knees.
The sight between her legs was phenomenal. The glow of the sun on the lake through the windows as Spencer stroked himself in front of her.
Suddenly, he took both of her knees in his hands. Pushing them to her chest slightly before flipping her over. Extending her hips as he held her ass up. Kissing each cheek softly before straightening his posture.
“Ready?” He asked, she wasn’t expecting it.
Her face pressed into the pillow as she tried to find the best position to support herself. Pushing her hips back in a silent yes. He understood her body language, lining himself up with her and slowly pushing in.
She pushed back against him as well, moaning as she took all of him. “Finally,” she sighed, wiggling against his hips.
He gripped her hips, pushing her off abruptly before slamming back in. She was shocked, letting out a gasped moan as he fucked into her. Taking the instructions too literally, railing her.
She had never been that loud before in her life. Concerned Rossi would be able to hear them from across the lake, but it didn’t stop her. Only enticing him to keep it up.
She pressed her face into the pillow more as she attempted to reach her clit. She couldn’t, “fuck, Spence?”
“Yeah?” He slowed.
She took his hand off her hip, “can’t reach.” Her breath was erratic as she tried to explain.
“Aw poor bunny,” he teased her, slowing to a grind as his fingers ghosted over her clit. “Can’t get yourself off anymore?”
“Please daddy?” She let it slip, feeling his cock twitch inside of her as she did.
He leaned forward, kissing her shoulder softly. “Tell daddy what you want, use your big girl words.”
She pushed back against him, raising herself from the pillow to look over her shoulder at him. “I was going to say breed me, daddy.” She teased, watching his entire personality change. “But it looks like you already did.”
He licked his lips, pushing his hair out of his face as he shook his head at her. “You’re going to regret that.”
She pressed her face back into the pillow and perched her ass back more, ever the invitation. He ran his hand softly over her asscheek, slapping it before he started to fuck her again, reaching around to rub her clit, like she asked, ever so nicely.
They found their rhythm then, pushing against each other in just the right way. Between her deep breathing and the moans she released, the only other thing she could only hear was the sound of their skin slapping together as Spencer fucked her harder than ever before.
“Fuck, sweet Jesus I love your cock,” she praised him, punching into the pillow as she pushed herself back into him, on all 4’s now.
Using his free hand, he spread his fingers through her hair. Gripping her at the roots and pulling her head back as he slammed into her.
“Yes, daddy,” Y/N panted as she felt herself get closer to the edge. “Right there.”
“Cum for me bunny,” he instructed her, “let me fill your perfect little cunt.”
She came with a shout, pushing back against him as his words pushed her over the edge. Not being able to ever say no to that man, feeling his hips shake as he tried to fuck her through his own orgasm.
He pulled out, flipping her limp body back over so she could lay on her back, releasing the pressure on her stomach. Legs still spread as he observed his handiwork, scooping it up with his fingers and pushing it back inside of her. Making her clench up at the feeling.
“Spence-“
“Too much?” He smirked down at her.
She nodded, catching her breath as he just sat there. Still, on his knees, cock now soft and resting against his leg. She preached herself up on her forearms, shaking her head at him as she bit her lip.
“Where the fuck did that come from?” She asked him.
“I have no idea,” he laughed. “But hypothetically,” he bit his lip and raised his eyebrow. “I wouldn’t mind revisiting that on a later date.”
She laughed, dropping back against the sheets. “Me either.”
—
She waddled from the car to the elevator. A mixture of pregnancy and over-extending her hips, exercising with Spencer. Lamaze class more specifically, if anyone asked.
“I should really start calling you ducky,” Spencer whispered in the elevator.
“I hate you,” she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.
“Really?” He teased her, “because if I recall 27 minutes and 15 seconds ago when you were saying ‘fuck, sweet Jesus, I love your cock,’” he whispered into her ear.
The elevator doors opened as her jaw dropped, “notice how I specified which part, Doctor Reid?” She answered abruptly, walking out towards her coworkers.
“So that’s how it’s going to be?” He said as he followed her. Making everyone turn around to see them.
“What’s going on?” Morgan noticed it first.
“Nothing,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Just correcting the genius.”
“On?” Prentiss pried.
“Well this morning she said and I quote-“
“I will cut your balls off and hang them from the mirror in my car,” she snapped, glaring at him as she pointed her finger in his direction.
“Mama’s got claws,” Morgan laughed at them. “Damn.”
Spencer wrapped his arms around her, kissing her cheek in front of everyone. She turned pink, pretending to be pissed while a smile crept onto her face.
“She loves me,” Spencer smiled, pressing their cheeks together.
“One part, it’s nice to me and doesn’t talk back,” she replied, making everyone laugh as Spencer shook his head.
“Okay, you win,” he put his hands up in surrender as he backed away. Opening the door to the bullpen and disappearing behind his desk.
chapter 23
St. Patrick’s Day was never a holiday that Y/N or Spencer really cared for. Yes, they wore green to work, but other than that they didn’t really see the hype. They were Halloween people.
Will and JJ, on the other hand, went all out.
It was something to do with Will’s love for beer and his frat-boy attitude. Explaining to them that morning in the bullpen that the best parties on his college campus were around St. Patrick’s day and Mardi Gras, making February and March party central in his life.
They walked in with little Henry, decked out in green from head to toe. Green beads around his neck, gold chocolate coins in a basket, and the cutest little shamrock light-up head bopper.
“Look at you!!” Y/N called out to Henry as she walked into the room. Opening her arms up and leaning down to pick him up as he ran into her arms.
“Any Y/N!” Henry called her, not being able to say his T’s yet.
She pressed his tiny cheek against her face as she picked him up and snuggled him against her chest. It was getting harder to pick him up now that she was pregnant but she wasn’t going to miss a Henry snuggle.
“Since when did the FBI consult with leprechauns?” She asked him, booping her nose against him.
“Nooo,” Henry leaned back in her arms, “I’m not a leopard-con,” he tried his best to say the word. Making the team all laugh.
“Well, either way, why’s my favourite little guy here today?”
“Hey?” Spencer complained.
She leaned her elbow into him, “hi unca Spence,” Henry smiled at him. Spencer ran his fingers through Henry’s hair, messing it up under the headband.
“He wanted his godparents to see his outfit before the party at daycare today!” JJ explained with excitement.
Y/N placed him back on his feet, “go on the, show it off!”
He walked around the room, doing a fake model strut as he shook his diapered butt, walking towards the stairs before running back. “Woooow!” Everyone clapped and cheered.
Y/N looked up from Henry’s gaze, seeing Emily in Hotch’s office with a blond woman she didn’t recognize, “what’s going on in there?” She pointed.
“They’ve been in there all morning,” Rossi explained. “I think that’s the girlfriend.”
“How so?” Spencer asked, moving across the room to get a better view through the blinds.
“The way Emily leans against her, hand on her arm like that as she speaks. That’s the same way you and lady boy-wonder act when you’re in there together,” Rossi raised an eyebrow at them.
“Ahh,” Y/N smirked. “I wonder what happened, no one talks to Hotch with the door closed unless they need us to look into something.”
“I’ve gotta go,” Will cut in, scooping Henry up from the carpet with a tight-lipped smile.
“Bye buddy,” Y/N scrunched her nose at him, getting in close to press their noses together. “Have a good day today.”
“Bye, love you,” JJ kissed both her boys and watched them leave the room.
“they’re the best,” Y/N said as she wrapped an arm around JJ.
“Anyone want to go sit and have coffee while we wait for them?” Derek asked prior to a long yawn.
Rossi patted Derek on the back, leading him up the stairs and towards the briefing room. The remaining team members following their lead, discovering fresh donuts and flowers waiting for them.
“A gift for helping in advance, -Noelle” Read the small card on the table.
“Emily’s girlfriend?” JJ pondered, holding the card up and waving it slightly.
“I like her already,” Derek said, kicking his feet back and taking a donut.
Hotch walked in with Emily and Mindy 45 minutes later. Following them was a beautiful blond woman, probably 6’1 even in her flat running shoes. She was wearing cuffed blue skinny jeans and a big Barbie Pink petticoat.
She smiled lightly as she walked in, glueing herself to Emily’s side. “This is Noelle, my partner, Noelle these are my co-workers.”
“Hi!” She waved, “let me guess. Chocolate thunder, Derek Morgan.” She pointed to the nearest person to her.
“Correct,” Derek nodded in her direction.
“You would have to be Penelope Garcia,” she guessed right once again. “Emily was right, your aura is very bright.”
“Oh,” Penelope blushed.
“Y/N and Spencer, she said you’d be basically sitting on top of each other,” making everyone on the team laugh. “JJ, she said you’re like wonder woman, you look more like you could be cast as Super Girl if you ask me.”
JJ blushed, “thank you, Henry would agree.”
“Rossi, I already knew you. I love your books,” she fangirled a little. Something Rossi was incredibly used to.
“Signing hours are from 6-8,” he teased her.
Noelle laughed, her smile wide and toothy. “It’s lovely to meet you all.”
“Noelle has come in today with concerns that local gay men in her circle of friends are going missing. Over the last few holidays, 3 of her friends have disappeared. Dropping all contact after a trip to the bar,” Hotch explained.
“I’m a firefighter,” Noelle explained. “I have a Facebook group of friends who are gay and in the forces in any capacity. Just to let each other know where they’re going, to be safe.”
“Smart system,” Rossi complimented. “But also incredibly easy for someone to pose as trustful to gain access and track them.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Emily’s pressed lip smile portraying just how uncomfortable she was with the situation. “I’ve met our supposed victim number 3. Officer Perry is a great man and we haven’t heard from him since Friday.”
“Where was he going?” Y/N asked.
“He was at the bar with us on Friday for a little, we got a few beers and then he said he was meeting with a guy he met online, he was never big into online dating or even dating in general. He didn’t know how to be an officer and gay at the same time,” Noelle explained the situation fully. “He is one of my best friends, I excused it Saturday when he didn’t call cause I guessed he was having a good time. But when he missed Sunday dinner I knew something was wrong. I begged Emily to let me pitch this to you.”
“I believe you,” Hotch added. “Which is why I’ve asked Mindy Patel from VICAP to join us today.”
Mindy waved, she dressed more like a techie than an agent. Beanie, headphones on her neck and a big black sweater.
“Strauss and I agreed it would be beneficial to have a member of the team solely responsible for going through VICAP coincidences and letting us know. We stumble across too many rare cases thanks to Y/N and Mindy,” Hotch explained. “Mindy Patel is now officially VICAP Liaison. Her office will be across from Garcia’s from now on, she’s going to be our eyes and ears in the missing person world for the time being.”
“I took into account the fact that your friends were all masc for masc, on the police force in some capacity and male obviously,” Mindy explained. “And I found the two men from Valentines Day and New Years, and then more going back every major holiday for the last 2 years as of this St. Patrick’s day.”
“We’ve compiled the data and sent it to Garcia, it’ll be on your tablets shortly,” Hotch confirmed. “I’d like everyone to split up into teams and take an apartment of the most recent 3 victims. Prentiss and Rossi, you get New Years’.”
“Yes sir,” Emily agreed. “Noelle can stay here with Penelope for insight.”
“Yes. Reid, Y/N and Morgan, you’ll take officer Perry’s apartment. It’s the freshest so I need the best eyes.”
“Absolutely,” they replied in unison.
“Myself and JJ are going to the Valentines Day abduction,” check in with Garcia when you need to, fill me in on everything. Good luck.”
—
“Yeah a cop lives here,” Y/N laughed as she searched through the carefully organized home. Combing the place over for the slightest abnormality.
“He definitely wasn’t taken,” Morgan agreed. “He went willingly and never made it home.”
Dust was starting to settle on his possessions. Photos on the wall looked blurry as the sun shined through the windows. It smelled stale, no one had opened the windows in a while and the man who lived here worked out.
His clothing was organized by category. His laundry had 3 separate baskets for darks, lights and colours. Inside his bedside drawers, all his condoms were lined up by type. He was definitely anal about something.
“Guys?” Spencer called from the office.
Morgan and Y/N followed the sound of his voice, seeing him hunched over an iMac. “I moved the mouse and it’s open and unlocked.”
“But you don’t know what to do?” She teased him.
“Yeah,” he blushed. Watching Y/N sit in the desk chair and start looking through his things.
“His Facebook is pretty basic, he checked in at the bar with a photo here of him with Emily and Noelle, and then he went offline. He doesn’t have Twitter or Tumblr logged in, so I’m guessing he doesn’t have that,” Y/N explains as she stalked his activity. “In his history, your male basics. Case research, pornhub, Facebook, Hotmail… hold on.”
She read through all the subjects, all looking pretty normal. “What would a gay man hiding his sex life from his co-workers disguise his emails as?”
“Work-out appointments,” Morgan answered almost too quickly.
‘Workout’ she typed into the search bar. Seeing 15 messages from another man named [email protected]. “got him, call Garcia.”
“Hey baby girl,” Derek spoke softly as she answered. “We got Jensen Perry’s computer open, his email shows he’s been working out with a [email protected].”
“Already working my finger magic,” she teased him. Hanging up before he could say anything back.
“That woman will be the death of me,” he sighed.
“I don’t think we’ll find anything else here, our best bet is with Garcia,” Y/N admitted as she closed all the windows. “Wait,” she pulled up the search and typed in ‘find my iPhone,’ “if he has a Mac he has an iPhone, not many people blend their tech.”
Last ping: 2256 Sheerly Lane, Friday at 23:56.
“I’ll call Hotch while you drive,” Y/N said, pulling out her phone and following the men out the door.
Morgan followed the GPS 15 minutes down the street to an apartment complex. It was worn down and looked as if no one had taken care of it in the last 25 years. “I’m calling Garcia before you go in, I don’t feel good about this.”
“Hey doll,” Garcia’s cheery voice was a nice refresher.
“Hey, do you have any info on who owns and occupies 2256, Sheerly Lane?” Y/N asked softly. “Also send backup to this location, it’s where Perry’s iPhone is apparently and it looks sketchy as hell.”
She heard the clicking of the keys before she heard Garcia’s reply. “Yep, we have 1 occupant. Amy Romano, 46, left the building after her mother died. She’s been living there in room 333 for years, not renting any rooms out at all in the last 3 years.”
“A woman?” Morgan was shocked.
“Must be why we’ve never found the bodies, female serial killers are 90% less likely to ever be caught,” Reid added his fun fact, one she’s heard from him a handful of times before.
“Exactly,” Y/N agreed. “What do we know about her?”
“She’s an interesting one,” Garcia’s tone changed. “Her father was a minister, big bible freak. Her mother was the maid here at the hotel before being given the deed from the original owner’s family. She died in 1988.”
“How much of the religious upbringing rubbed off on her?”
“Enough to make her have multiple psychotic breaks, being diagnosed with schizophrenia when she was 15,” Garcia gained more insight. “Claimed to have been visited by God, and was told sinners are punished by word of god. That one day she would be the one to follow his word for the righteous man.”
“What if she’s doing her own form of conversion therapy?” Y/N gasped. “She’s not killing them. She’s following god’s word and freeing them from their sins. This is the perfect place to keep them. Locking them in rooms away from each other, secluding them and only subjecting them to a female for long periods of time.”
“Garcia, we need back up right now,” Morgan stressed.
“they’re 4 minutes out, good luck in there my babies.”
“See you soon, baby girl.”
Being left out of raids was weird to her, watching Spencer put on a bullet-proof vest and load his gun without her cover made her anxious. Luckily, she got to stand with JJ outside. Watching the building as they listened over their radiofrequency.
“Clear,” Morgan spoke over the system.
“Clear here as well,” Hotch said. “Meet me at the stairwell.”
“I hate this,” Y/N whispered.
JJ ran her hand along Y/N’s back softly, “me too.”
“Floor 3, room 33,” Hotch explained. “I’ll kick in the door, Morgan, you enter first. Spencer and Prentiss, follow our lead.”
Not having a visual was the worst part. There was no way to know where they were or who was there. They worked on sounds, if and when the team decided to speak.
“1, 2, 3,” Morgan whispered before they heard the door smash in. “FBI!”
Then it was silent again, too quiet for anyone’s liking, staring up at the third floor trying to hear everything in the neighbourhood.
“Amy Romano put the gun down!”
“No!” They heard before 4 shots were fired.
Y/N’s heart was in her throat; she couldn’t hear anything going on inside. The officers asked over the radio for updates, hearing nothing in return. Y/N couldn’t stop herself from running towards the apartment buildings before anyone could catch her. Up 3 flights of stairs, drawing her gun and walking towards the room.
Morgan was shot in the arm, down. Prentiss, hiding behind a table with Morgan and Spencer as she tried to stop the bleeding. Hotch in the unsub’s grasp, fighting for a gun.
Hotch noticed Y/N in the doorway. Kicking the unsub down. Y/N wrapped her arm around the unsub’s neck, putting her in a headlock as Hotch attempted to cuff her. She struggled like a wet fish against them, slipping out of her grasp and falling to the floor.
“If God wants to tell me to stop, he’ll tell me himself!” She screamed.
Y/N presses her gun to her head, “he just did.”
“Amy Romano you’re under arrest for the kidnapping of 24 men, attempted murder of a federal agent and resisting arrest,” Hotch explained as he cuffed her.
“Y/N!” Spencer stood up, looking at her like she was the crazy person. “We agreed, 3rd trimester, no fieldwork.”
“You didn’t reply on the radio and suddenly I was here,” Y/N explained, “I’m sorry.”
“We need EMTs, Morgan’s been shot in the arm. The bleeding is under control, just hurry.” Prentiss ordered over the radio.
“Y/L/N is going to need to get checked as well,” Spencer added.
“Why?”
“You ran up three flights of stairs, wrestled an unsub and got elbowed in the side,” Spencer explained, taking her hand and leading her out of the room.
“I’m sorry, I get it now I really do,” Y/N stopped him in the hallway, holding him in her arms. “I don’t like when I can’t see that you’re safe.”
Spencer kissed the top of her head, “I love you.”
“The baby’s kicking,” she replied softly, “that’s good right? 4 movements in 30 minutes after activity is a good thing.”
Spencer laughed, pulling back to feel her belly. “I’m sure he’s all hopped up on adrenaline now, come on let’s get him looked at quickly.”
—
They found 16 of the 24 men alive and in critical condition inside the apartment building. SCSI was canvassing the scene with local cops, taping up the building and surrounding property while the city discussed demolishing the building altogether.
Y/N was able to witness Noelle running into Jensen Perry’s arms, hugging him as they cried in his hospital bed. Y/N could imagine the trauma he was going through, the terror and the fear of something you really don’t want, happening anyway.
“Why do people do terrible things in the name of God?” Y/N whispered towards Spencer, looking up at him with soft eyes. Truly curious.
“The religious system runs similarly to cults, they believe the words are to be followed and thus they will gain entrance to heaven. If there’s one thing humans are afraid of more than dying, it’s internal damnation. Holding the fact that they will suffer in death over their head is a way to get them to do anything.” Spencer explained softly. “With the right person, the wrong message can actually sound like a pretty good thing.”
Y/N let out a deep sigh, “how do you raise a good child in a fucked up world?”
“Matthew, 18; 1 through 5, At that time the disciples came to Jesus and said, “Who then is greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” And He called a child to Himself and set him before them, and said, “Truly I say to you, unless you are converted and become like children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” Spencer repeated the bible verse softly. “Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever receives one such child in My name receives Me.”
Y/N smiled, “I like that.”
“He was always supposed to be good, he has you as his mother.”
chapter 24
April rolled around out of nowhere. Suddenly the snow had all melted, the birds were returning, and the trees were starting to bud thanks to the week of thunderstorms.
Love was in the air, both in the wild and in Y/N’s life.
The wedding’s in 2 weeks and she’s growing daily. She wanted to wait till the last possible moment to get her dress. Wanting it to actually fit over her stomach on the big day without any struggle.
Being placed on office duty for the rest of her pregnancy made it easier, not being allowed to leave Mindy and Penelope's side, under direct order from Aaron Hotchner. She was starting to notice that the more pregnant she got, the more the men of the team wanted to protect her as well.
JJ said it was the same for her the first time, all the alpha personalities came out around the third trimester. It was like they didn’t quite register that a woman on the team was pregnant till it was abundantly clear.
The girls had all agreed to go to the dress store with Y/N when they had a free afternoon, but that didn’t seem to be happening any time soon. Y/N ended up going by herself between cases while Spencer was on a flight, trying on 6 different dresses before she found one that made her happy.
The sales associate was being extra nice to her, knowing she had both a big budget and no time. It was an easy sale, but this wasn’t an easy decision.
She tried a sleeveless, skin-tight number on first. Not being able to even move once she got in it, not even bothering to look in the mirror. It wasn’t right, that was for sure.
Eventually, by #5 they had an idea of what she wanted. Long sleeves to hide her stretch marks, it had to be flowy but still show off the bump. And she wanted lace, embroidery even. Something that made it different, something that was more like her. Always growing, changing, adapting.
She was wandering the racks when she saw it.
It was so long, the train had to be at least 6 feet. It was light, made with sheer fabric so it would twist and flow with whatever direction she ran or danced. She could imagine walking through the grass with the train flowing behind her with purpose.
The most wonderful aspect was the long sleeves and the neckline. Cupping her chest perfectly with a nice ribbon right above her bump. The entire dress reminded her of something, the floral embroidery sending her back to a dress she remembers from her childhood, not able to place it but knowing it in her heart.
She looked in the mirror at herself, she felt beautiful. She shook her head lightly as a tear fell down her cheek. “It’s perfect,” she whispered.
The sales associate shook a big bell then, causing everyone to look at her and cheer. “Are you saying yes?” She asked, as cheesy as it was, she loved it.
“Yes!” She cheered back, feeling the love from everyone in the store.
The dress was huge, she laid the bag against her passenger seat and stared at it for a while. It felt a little crazy that she was getting married in a few days, even crazier that she was having a baby in 2 months.
Her phone rang as she started to leave. “Hewwo?” She answered softly, knowing it was Spencer.
“I just got home, where are you?”
“Oh,” she smiled. “Penelope said you guys wouldn’t be back until 9, I went and picked out a dress.”
“Alone?” He sounded sad.
“It was better this way, I picked it for me and no one else,” she reassured him. “I’m on my way home now though baby, I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay, drive safe. I love you,” Spencer replied, his voice nothing more than a whisper.
“Love you too,” she hung up.
She sighed, turning on the stereo and driving home to her favourite albums. Driving alone was different for her now, she used to love just escaping into the Virginia wilderness, picking a road and an album and just going somewhere.
Driving with Spencer meant silence, hand-holding, humming and ha-ing as he discovered new facts that intrigued him. She loved it, the ambiance of Doctor Spencer Reid was not something you could replicate, it was special and calming and wonderful.
She couldn’t wait to get home to him.
He was waiting on the front porch as she rolled into the driveway. Joining her at the car, wanting to help her carry her things inside. “Hi,” she smiled at him as she stepped out.
He pulled her into a hug, kissing her cheek softly. “Want some help?”
“If you don’t mind carrying in my dress, I need to pee so bad!” She said, almost about to run inside when he stopped her.
“Like how bad?” He asked.
“Excuse me?”
“If you were to get surprised would you pee your pants?” He tried not to laugh as he asked.
“Spence?”
“Just go in,” he said softly.
She sighed, knowing what this meant. Walking up the stairs slowly, turning the doorknob just as slow. Not ready to have her eardrums blown out.
“Surprise!!”
Sure enough, there were balloons and flowers and her friends gathered all inside her front hall. “Oh my god?”
Penelope wrapped her in a hug first, “your first baby shower has to be special!”
“You guys really didn’t have to do this?” She was so shocked to be getting attention that she felt a little embarrassed.
“We wanted to,” JJ hugged her next, their bumps too big to hug normally, opting for more of a side snuggle. “I got you something to change into before we get started.”
Y/N took the small blue bag from her, kicking her shoes off before they went upstairs. Spencer joining with her wedding dress, hanging it in the closet and slipping back downstairs, unnoticed.
Y/N opened the gift bag on her bed, JJ looked around the room for the first time ever. Looking at the photos of their first day of kindergarten on the wall, the artwork they chose. How Spencer wrote notes to her on the mirror with whiteboard markers.
“You guys are really cute,” she smiled.
“Thanks,” she smiled.
Finally taking the dress out of the bag, it was just something simple. Blue with pink flowers. Something she’d definitely pick out on her own. “This is so beautiful!”
“I got it when I was pregnant with Henry and never had a chance to wear it,” She smiled, “thought that you’d like it more.”
Y/N hugged her, “seriously this is the best thing you guys could’ve done for me!”
“I’m also going to need a pink dress,” JJ said softly in her grasp.
“No?” Y/N was shocked. “Really a mini JJ?”
“Yeah,” she smiled softly. “Hurry up we have more surprises for you downstairs!”
—
It took her longer than she hoped to get changed. The baby was just big enough to make her winded all the time now. Having to stop and take a breather just from taking her pants off. Not to mention the struggle of standing up after peeing.
When she finally made it back down the stairs on her swollen feet, she heard a familiar giggle that she loved very much. “You didn’t?”
JJ smiled, “it was Rossi and Will, they flew them all in and got them here.”
Her parents, brothers and wives were all in the kitchen waiting for her. Then she saw Diana, who was pressed up close to Spencer having a conversation in their own little world.
She walked in and cried, hugging her parents for the first time in 5 months. Showing off her big baby bump and chunky face for the first time too.
“You look amazing!” Her mom complimented her, taking her hand and making her spin slowly.
“Thank you, I feel huge,” she smiled. “I can’t believe you guys are here, I’m literally coming home in 2 weeks!”
“When David Rossi calls you and says he has a jet picking us up, you don’t just say no,” her father laughed, wrapping his arm around Rossi. They were going to be something else together.
She gave Diana a big hug when she could, watching her rub her belly and talk to the baby through her stomach for a good 10 minutes. It was so cute, everyone in the room watched and swooned. Secretly always hoping Spencer’s family got a moment like this.
After dealing with the Riley Jenkins case, and Gideon leaving, they worried for him. They never expected him to just show up one day with a girl and start the rest of his life the way he did. But it just made sense. He sped through school and early adulthood well before Y/N, now they’re moving fast, just together.
They had pizza for dinner, spreading 6 different kinds across the counter and telling everyone to dig in. Y/N took a slice and walked around, mingling with everyone to ensure she thanked them for coming.
“Henry!” She finally found him with Chloe and Lizzie. He ran into her arms, giving her a big hug. “Did you meet my niece?”
“You’re my any?” He questioned her right back.
“Come here Clo,” she called her over, huddling them both in close to her. “You both get to call me aunty Y/N, isn’t that so cool? You’re new friends and you share an aunty!”
Chloe gave her a big hug, she was getting bigger and bigger every day, about to turn 4 in a few months. It felt a little crazy, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“How are you?” She asked her softly.
“I’m good,” she whispered at her, smiling before hiding her face in her dress.
“Are you having fun here? Did you meet buddy yet?”
“No!” Chloe’s face lit up.
“Well, what are we waiting for?” She gasped at them both, getting back up to her feet and walking with them to where Buddy hid in the laundry room.
He was curled into a ball in a basket of towels, peaceful in the quietest room in the house.
Chloe and Henry took turns petting Buddy, kissing his head and playing with his tail, it was good for him to get a little used to grabby kid's hands. She was a little worried about how he’d handle a baby, but he was a chill cat he never really cared about attention as long as he was fed.
Eventually, JJ and Lizzie found them, peeling them away from the cat with the promise of cake while Y/N opened her gifts from everyone.
Everyone was watching her as she sat down in the living room, feeling a little anxious like she had to perform for them or something. Spencer finally joined her on the couch then, wrapping his arm around her in a soothing motion.
“So,” Garcia started. “I took it upon myself to organize the party but I didn’t just stop there, I also emailed everyone a link to a chart where they could pick the category of gift they got you so that we avoided repeats and got everything you would need.”
“This is all so much,” she turned bright pink. “You guys really didn’t have to I feel like I haven’t bought anything for myself since I met Spencer.”
“Nonsense!” Penelope hushed her. “Here, pick whatever one grabs your fancy.”
Y/N’s eyes raked over the pile of gifts, “um that big one over there, why not.”
It was a big blue bag, stuffed to the brim with tissue paper. The card on the handle was signed, she opened it to find 'from; Erin Strauss' on it. “Oh?”
“She couldn’t come but she passed that along on behalf of the section,” Hotch explained.
Y/N didn’t waste any time opening it. Finding brand named everything that she would need for breastfeeding, losing her mind at the never-ending bag.
Almost every gift was the same, all themed and absolutely filled. She was never going to have to buy anything for Matthew, she got it all today.
Hotch and Haley got her a babies bath essentials set. Her parents equipped her with every form of linen she would ever need for a baby, as well as a quilt made just for Matthew.
Penelope bought easily $400 in clothes for him over the past 7 months, with the promise of not stopping any time soon. Derek and Emily got together to buy them an all-terrain stroller, for the walks they expect them to take down the back roads. Emily’s girlfriend even brought a mom after-care set for her.
Diana’s gift made her cry the most, opening the box to find old copies of childhood books. “Those were all Spencers when he was a child,” she explained softly. “His love for the world started with those stories, I would like for Matthew to know them too.”
“Absolutely,” Y/N wiped the tears off her face, leaning over to hug her. “If Matty ends up being even half as wonderful as Spencer I’ll be grateful.”
“Spencer, did you get her anything?” Diana asked him softly as she was still mid embrace with Y/N.
“It’s in the garage,” Spencer smiled.
She looked at him with excitement, “you didn’t!”
“I might have,” he smiled.
“What?” Rossi asked, hating suspense more than anyone on the team.
“I was joking about wanting to get an SUV and become a soccer mom,” Y/N’s whole face lit up. “Did you get me a soccer mom mobile?”
He smiled back at her, “here.”
She held the key in her hand, her car was old as hell. She has had it since she moved to Virginia and even then it was a 2004 model. She had never had a new car, with the fresh car smell and clean everything!
“I am so overwhelmed,” she announced, bouncing a little in her seat as she shook her hands. Stimming just a small amount in front of everyone in all the excitement.
“We’re all done celebrating you now, I think we can start getting out of your hair, right guys?” JJ stood and pressured everyone that wasn’t relying on their house for the night, out the door.
Penelope helped Debbie and Diana clean everything up around the house. Peeling Henry and Chloe away from each other was the most difficult part of the night, becoming fast friends and wanting to look at books all night together in uncle Spencers library.
Rossi offered to let her brother Levi and his wife stay at his place while Diana and Y/N’s parents took the guest room in her home. Harrison and Faith driving back to Fort Meade to their own house.
—
Y/N and Spencer sat up in their bed, leaning against the headboard as they listened to the quiet of their house. Their co-workers were gone, their parents were settled in the guest rooms and most likely still awake from the time difference. The day had been so crazy that she barely had time to wrap her head around it.
“So…” Y/N cut the awkward silence. “Wanna make out?”
He laughed at her, shaking his head. “Remember the last time you asked me to do that?”
“Yeah, I lost my virginity,” she whispered back at him. A little scared that everyone could hear them talking.
“We can't,” Spencer looked at her with wide eyes. “It's bad enough my mother knows I’ve had sex once let alone possibly hearing us.”
He nudged him a little, crawling into his lap and sitting there softly. Her belly pressed against him, filling the space between them as she held his face in her hands.
“They’re on the other side of the house,” she pouted. “Just make out with me?”
He kissed her quickly once, “why are you so needy tonight?”
“All day I’ve had everyone's attention but yours,” she explained softly. “I missed you and I want my Spencer time.”
He couldn’t say no to that, because he felt the exact same way. He ran his hands up her thighs, over her hips and finally resting them on her back. She ran her thumbs over Spencer's cheeks, looking at him softly as she tilted her head to really admire him.
His lips were perfect, his nose was adorable. The way his stubble grew in and darkened his jaw was amazing. His bone structure, his eye colour, the way his hair just fell flawlessly into place with 0 effort. She sighed as she looked at him.
“I love you,” she whispered, biting back a smile as she waited for his response.
“I love you,” he giggled as he looked right back at her. It almost felt more intimate than sex, just staring into each other's eyes in a dimly lit bedroom, in the middle of the night.
She ran her hands up into his hair, combing her fingers through it. He tilted his head back every time, closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling. She was about to smile when she got a sharp shooting pain in her hips.
“Oh, my, god,” she breathed out. “Ouch?” She scrunched her face with the pain as the sharpness dulled into the bone, just feeling uncomfortable as she tensed up in his lap. She didn’t even realize she was tugging on his hair in response to the pain.
“What?” Spencer asked, concerned as all hell.
“I think that was Braxton hicks? It was like everything down there just lit up in pain,” she explained with a horrified look on her face.
He ran his hands softly over her hips, soothing the skin in an attempt to help. “Are they bad?”
“It just feels like a pinched nerve at first and then a dull ache, it’s not the worst. I don’t enjoy it that's for sure,” she laughed a little louder. “God, I hope he’s kind to me on the way out.”
“I was doing research into the best drugs and techniques for birth for mothers that don’t want any drugs either because they’re sober or they don’t want to be removed from the moment,” Spencer explained softly. “There are a lot of options if you want to look into them with me this week?”
“Of course you did,” she smiled at him once again, feeling a bit better. “We also have to pack the baby’s go-bag.”
Spencer laughed at the way she phrased it. “Isn’t it just a hospital bag and a diaper bag?”
“No, it’s a mission to have a baby. It’s a go-bag.”
They kept giggling with each other over the dumbest things, staring at smiling as they laughed. Spencer’s hands roamed her back while she poked his face. Happily just talking in each other's space about the most random shit.
It was what she loved the most about him, that they could equally ramble about what they found interesting and the other felt just as excited about learning something new. They had mutual respect for each other's interests and feelings that ran deeper than most, truly loving every word that left their partner's mouth.
By the time they settled against the pillows and attempted to sleep it was half 1 in the morning. They turned all the lights out and still just stared at each other.
She booped his nose softly with her own, watching him scrunch his face as a result before giggling again.
“Do you have any idea what the case tomorrow will be?” She was only asking because she wanted more time with him, needing to find every topic to bring up so that the night never ended.
“Mindy’s pitching something to us tomorrow again,” he whispered. “You’ll be good at this one.”
“Oh I’m excited now okay, goodnight,” she closed her eyes and pretended to snore, making him snuggle in and wrap her arms around him, pulling her in close the way they liked it.
“I love you, bunny,” he said one last time for the night.
She sighed as she settled into him, “I love you more Spence.”
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In My Daughter’s Eyes Chapter 29: Butterly
Chapter 28
Read on AO3
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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Chapter Seven
Fox was up at dawn the next morning, packing the last of his items, staring out the window and out to the Nile. No more would they have the luxury of beds, fancy dinners, cool places to seek out for a reprieve.
And he could not have been happier at the prospect of living rough.
A knock sounded at his door, surprising him, believing himself to be the only person who could possibly be awake at that early hour. When he opened it, he found Dana, looking happy, but slightly nervous.
“Good morning,” he said with a smile.
“Hello. I know it’s early, but…” She took a deep breath and let it out. “Would you like to have breakfast? Just you and I, before the others wake to join us?” She smiled and, as always seemed to happen, it caused his stomach to flip.
“I would love to have breakfast with you,” he answered and she nodded. “Let me get my jacket and we can go downstairs.”
It was slightly cooler in the mornings, and he also had something for Dana tucked inside the inner pocket. He had wanted to give it to her on Christmas, but mistakes being made, he was unable to do so. As they would now be alone, possibly for the last time in a while, he knew the timing was perfect.
Closing his door and locking it, he fell in step beside her. She was quiet but seemed to be giving off the same excited energy he himself was feeling. He looked at her appreciatively, the simple yet attractive style in which she dressed always pleasing to behold.
She did not have overly fashionable clothes, but she did not seem to care or desire them. And yet for he, who had grown up with women of all ages dressed in the latest fashions and the best jewels, her simple dress drew him to her even more. Her beauty was held in the simplicity of dress, her manners, and her intelligence.
And her eyes, which spoke to him, even when her mouth did not.
“Have you everything ready?” he asked and she nodded.
“Yes. I packed and repacked last night. Kept thinking I’d forgotten something. Or could rearrange things and find room to add one more thing.”
“Are you needing something?”
“Not at all. I have everything I need,” she assured him with a smile. “It was simply in case I needed or, more accurately, wanted it.” He laughed softly and nodded in understanding.
The dining room was nearly empty, most of the patrons still sleeping. Suggesting a table on the veranda, she accepted and they sat down. She smiled and he smiled back before the waiter walked up to ask them what they wanted to eat.
After he had walked away, he began to reach into his jacket pocket when she let out a deep breath and turned those blue eyes onto him. They were serious and he drew his hand back, folding them in his lap.
“I want to talk about… to tell you why I came here. You’ve never asked and I’ve never volunteered the information, but I want you to know.” She drew in a breath, licked her lips, and closed her eyes briefly. Opening them, she smiled softly and he waited, not wanting to hurry her.
Coffees and sweet biscuits were set on the table and for a few minutes their attention was diverted. When she had taken a few sips of coffee, she nodded and exhaled.
“I… my family is from Maryland, as I told you, and two houses down from us was a family with three children. We all grew up together, though they were slightly older than me. The youngest boy, Matthew…” At this, she trailed off as her hand went to her throat and he knew what she was going to say. He wanted to stop her, tell her it was not necessary, but she had said she wanted him to know, so he would listen.
“Matthew was two years older than me and I…” She laughed bitterly, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes. He swallowed, hating to see her hurting, but knowing there was nothing he could do to help her. “I tagged along with all of them, equally hating and loving him. He treated me like an annoying little sister, but then brought me flowers or held my hand when I had fallen and scraped my knee. He had a way about him. I was in love with him for most of my life.” She smiled at him with tears in her eyes and she sniffled, dabbing her eyes with a napkin.
“He… he never encouraged it, or expected it, showing attention to other girls which broke my heart. But one summer, I stayed with my grandparents and came home in September before school started. I had changed and he noticed, his attention no longer given to other girls, only me. I was fourteen, he was sixteen, and a far off war had recently been declared. Our lives, though not yet consumed by it, soon would be.” She took a second, drinking more of her coffee, not meeting his eyes.
“We were still the same, but different. I had our lives planned in my mind: engaged once I was eighteen, married by nineteen or twenty, a family not far off. I was so happy.” She let out such a shuddering breath, Fox reached for her hand, not caring what others thought or if she would object. She clung to his hand, still not meeting his eyes, tears on her cheeks.
“Though America had not officially entered the war, we all knew it was imminent. It weighed upon everyone. The Lusitania…” She shook her head and closed her eyes. He knew what she was thinking and it made his stomach turn. Opening her eyes, she exhaled quietly. “When Matthew turned eighteen, in August of 1916, he enlisted in the military. He was so proud, ready to fight the Germans and stomp them out. I was terrified.”
“Dana,” Fox said, as she began to cry quietly, but she shook her head, determined to see her story through.
“When… when war was declared… he was so happy. Oh, that makes him sound… I didn’t mean-”
“I understand,” he whispered and she nodded, her head down.
“He left not long after for training and then to England. He asked me to promise to wait for him. It was the easiest promise I ever made.” She blew her nose in the napkin and wiped her eyes. “He arrived in England in June of 1917 and was killed in October of the same year.” She covered her face and cried and he swallowed down the large lump in his throat, turning his head to give them both a chance to compose themselves.
When he had, he looked at her, seeing her tears were subsiding as she took deep calming breaths. Uncovering her face, she looked at him, tears clinging to her lashes.
“My life was planned. I only wanted a husband and a family. And I lost it all. My life ended when his did. My heart was broken.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was… I can’t describe it. I…” She wiped her eyes and shook her head. “I was devastated. Then angry. Then devastated again. My brother came home, wounded but alive, and I hated him for it. My sister’s husband had not fought, a childhood illness of scarlet fever keeping him from doing so. I hated him too. I hated all of them, until I found an old book of mine, one Matthew and used to read together, about the gods and goddesses of Egypt, planning one day to see them together. That’s when I read about Kha’ari. When my heart was broken, I found her.”
He took a drink and tried to dislodge the lump which once again sat there, as she cried softly for a second.
“My path was clear, I needed to come here, to find her temple. My parents didn’t want me to leave, my father was adamant that I stay, wanting to keep an eye on me, but I was still angry, still hurting. I had to leave. I came here with my aunt and uncle, two people who knew to keep quiet about subjects and let me grieve. They helped set me up at my flat and get me the job at the museum in a training program. They left me and for the first time I felt like I could breathe. When I discovered there was not a temple dedicated to Kha’ari, I was broken again. I did my work, but felt empty for quite a while. But when King Tutankhamun was discovered, I once again felt hopeful. Felt that spark within me ignite, just as it did for you.”
She smiled and he stared at her, once again amazed by her, and by women in general. Women who suffer and hurt, yet carry on every day without giving any indication of their pain.
“I’m so sorry,” he said again and she frowned. “I had no idea.”
“I hadn’t told you, how could you have known?” she asked softly.
“I kissed you. I… should not have done that, not when you…”
“Fox…”
“I took liberties and you’re… grieving… you’re hurting.”
“No, Fox,” she said, softly still. “No. Well, not exactly. I did grieve. I suppose I always will, but it’s… mellowed. It’s evened out. I’m not hurting anymore. Not the way I was. I have a new path now. It’s this… and after this… I don’t know. But, my grief and pain are no longer the same.”
“That’s why you want to find it. To thank her,” he stated, as it all finally made sense and she smiled.
“When I first arrived and did not find it here, when all I had wanted was to offer up my pain to her and have it taken from me, I wanted it for different reasons. But now, five years have passed since the worst day of my life, and yes, I want to thank her.”
He stared at her and felt a new desire grow within him. If it took years, he would work to find that temple for her, to present to her the opportunity to give her proper thanks.
If she asked him for the moon, he would attempt to try, wanting nothing more than to see her happy.
____________________
They were quiet after her story, but a comfortable quiet that did not feel strained. He kept feeling he should reciprocate with his own story, but it did not feel like the right moment. That had not been what drove her to speak, so he remained silent.
“The dress your mother sent two years ago,” he said, her eyes raising to his in question, as the puzzle pieces he knew of her life began to fall into place.
“Yes,” she said with a nod. “She sent it with a note hoping it would be something I would wear ‘out with a young man.’ I never found an occasion worthy of it, until recently anyway.” She smiled and he nodded.
“Or the young man, I suppose,” he joked and she held his gaze, saying nothing as she then looked away.
Clearing his throat, finding double meaning in her answer, or lack thereof, he once again reached toward his jacket pocket and took out the gift he had purchased for her a few days past, placing it onto the table. Pushing it toward her, he watched her looking at it.
“I noticed that your journal was nearly full as you wrote in it recently. I knew you needed a new one, and I had planned on making it a Christmas gift, but…” He pulled his hands back and she smiled as she looked at the dark, rich brown of the leather.
“Thank you. I was in need of a new journal… oh, Fox…” she breathed and then gasped as she opened the journal and saw what he had added to it.
Every night before he had gone to sleep, he sketched copies of his sketches from his own journal into hers. The first three pages were dedicated to the sketches of what they had seen and what had caught his eye.
“This is beautiful. Oh, the details of this one… Fox. This is from Karnak. I remember turning around and you weren’t there. I came back and you were sketching this one.” She looked up at him and he smiled with a nod. “Thank you, this is an amazing gift. One I will treasure always.”
He nodded, saying nothing, her story weighing heavily on his mind as they finished their meal. He was thoughtful as they left the veranda and for the first time, her words did not reach his ears as they walked and she spoke to him. His mind was full and he needed time to think of all he had learned.
The arrival of the men was a welcome distraction, their excitement driving away the heaviness of the morning. They were all laughing and talking, Pierre both writing and signing.
Their trunks were brought down and added to the wagons, a third one procured for all of the extra bits they had not accounted for, the others too full to hold any more.
They had to ferry across the river one wagon at a time, the weight of all too heavy to sustain them if they did not. Once they were all together, they set off. Akl drove one wagon, his boys the others, with everyone else on horseback, using borrowed horses which would be brought back when they were settled.
It would take nearly three full days to reach their final destination, needing to stop and camp for two nights. The weather was perfect, the sky cloudless, the company easy. No one could have asked for a better start.
By the time they stopped for the day, they were sore and tired. Akl’s sons began to prepare a fire as he set about making them dinner.
The three men insisted they had bedrolls and were not in need of a tent for two nights, so long as the fire was warm, they would be quite fine.
Fox insisted they put up the smaller tent for Dana, and though she refused, not wanting to be of any trouble, with the help of Sobek and Atum it was quickly erected and her bed made up. As she stepped inside to have a look at it, she brushed Fox’s arm, her eyes thanking him.
They ate and sat around the fire talking, getting to know one another better.
John, 28, was from Kansas, the middle of six boys, and the son of a very tough man to please. He was cruel at times, enticing his sons to squabble and fight one another, believing it made them stronger. No weak sons for him, thank you.
“Although it doesn’t excuse me,” John said, as he looked at Dana. “It’s part of why I was willing to leave when we first met. My father’s voice in my ear telling me a man should never be led by a woman. That I was weak if I allowed it.”
“I understand. I do,” Dana said softly, but she shook her head. “It doesn’t mean that it’s right, however. To be diminished because of my sex… to be thought as less than another, it is unfair.”
Pierre clapped his hands at this, nodding vigorously and tapping his chest. He signed something to John, who nodded and signed back with a rueful smile.
“Yes, it is unfair and I apologize again, to you both. For my thoughts were somewhat similar when I met Pierre, though it was wrong of me.” He nodded at his friend again. “It’s hard. To get that voice out of your head, even after all this time. I haven’t seen my father in nearly ten years. I left home when I was eighteen, moving from place to place doing odd jobs and never went back. I got into a lot of scraps and some of them… I’m surprised I survived. Surprised I survived that, more than I survived the war. But I did and I learned from them, though not enough it seems. I apologize to you once again, Miss Scully.” He bowed his head to her and she smiled kindly at him.
“For the last time,” she stated softly and he grinned as he met her eyes, his forgiveness granted.
Charles, 30, was from London, very near Fox’s family, though they had never met. He had two younger sisters, both now married and in the country somewhere.
“I’ve been away from home for a long time myself. After the war, I couldn’t go back. I was different and the thought of home did not hold the same appeal. My mother had passed while I was in Belgium, the letter from my sister reaching me nearly a month after it happened. I… I read it and put it in my pocket, took one breath, and was back to the fight. I had no time to think about it, to dwell and remember her. I felt nothing because I would not allow myself to do so. I was twenty three, in the middle of a bloody war, and it was I, not my mother who survived.” He shook his head and wiped at his eyes quickly. Pierre clapped him on the back gently and Charles nodded.
“When the war was over, I couldn’t go home. Not even for my sisters. I had to leave, to go anywhere. Anywhere hot. I’d spent nights freezing without a fire and I could not abide a cold London winter. I had to go somewhere warm. I traveled through Africa, visiting many of its countries. I like it here, this continent suits me.” Dana smiled at him and he nodded. Pierre rubbed his back again and looked at Dana and then John.
“Right,” John said. “Charles and I know Pierre’s story, having heard it before, but Charles is not as fluent in sign language as I am, so I’ll be translating for him.” Pierre smiled at Dana again and she smiled back. He began to speak with his hands and John spoke his words quietly.
“I am twenty five, from Bordeaux. My parents have a vineyard there and I have two brothers. An older and a younger. I don’t remember ever being able to speak, though my parents said I did. I fell when I was two and was in the hospital for a long time, though I have no memory of it. I was brought to Paris by train and had surgeries done as my brain was swollen. I survived them, though it was a long time in the hospital, again something I do not remember much of, but from it, I was left unable to speak. I eventually attended schools for the deaf and the mute where I learned sign language. My parents thankfully did not lose their vineyard, as my injuries and costs thereafter were expensive, but it thrived. I will never be in charge of it, my…” Here Pierre paused his hands and took a deep breath. “My younger brother will, my older brother having died in the war.”
It was now Charles’s turn to offer support, his hand on Pierre’s shoulder. Pierre nodded and then shook his head, his hands once again moving quickly.
“I came to Italy four years ago, a doctor there claiming he could treat and cure muteness. I…” Again he paused, his hands lying in his lap. The fire crackled and they all jumped, laughing in embarrassment. Pierre smiled and began again. “I was in love with a young woman and I wanted to be able to speak to her. To speak the words I love you and not just write them. But the treatment was not what I believed it would be. It was…” He swallowed and wiped at his eyes. “Terrible. Just… terrible. I won’t go into more detail.”
“And you never went back to her?” Dana asked softly. Fox looked at her and saw tears on her cheeks as she stared at Pierre. “You didn’t go home?” He shook his head and looked down at his lap, his hands moving, but his gaze not meeting hers.
“No,” John said for him, his voice very quiet. “I was and still am ashamed. Of my imperfections and my cowardice to face her with them.”
“Oh…” Dana breathed and she began to cry softly. Pierre looked up at her and then stood to his feet, walking close to her. He handed her a handkerchief and she took it, grasping his hand. “I’m so sorry. If she loved you, she saw past what you consider imperfections. I know she did.” He shook his head and shrugged, sitting back down as the rest of them were silent.
Dana, after her tears subsided, told them about herself and Matthew. Fox was thankful to her for telling him privately that morning, the shock and pain at hearing her pain would have been hard to hear in front of strangers. He would have been unable to hide his feelings and desire to comfort her.
When she had finished, Pierre was sitting beside her, holding her hand. Their stories were somewhat similar, thus they seemed to find comfort with one another.
All eyes turned to Fox and he cleared his throat. He had never told Dana his whole story and as he relayed it now, of being stabbed and shot, his multiple illnesses both during and after the war, she rose from her seat and sat close to him, taking his large hand in her small one. She would squeeze it when he paused, needing a second to compose himself, the panic rising within him. When he was done, she remained next to him, now holding his hand in both of hers.
“Bloody hell,” Charles said, shaking his head. “We’re all quite a broken bloody mess, aren’t we?” They all laughed, Dana wiping her eyes as she did, still holding onto Fox’s hand with the other.
“I’d say so,” John said almost bitterly. “And with that, I think I’m going to call it a night.”
They all agreed and stood to make their beds ready. Fox walked Dana to her tent and she stopped at the door before going inside. She searched his face and he smiled, not wanting her to worry. She took his hand and squeezed gently.
“Goodnight, Fox,” she whispered.
“And to you, Dana.”
One more squeeze and she let go of his hand, stepping inside the tent. He waited for a second and then rejoined the men around the fire.
He lay on his back looking up at the stars, the sand cool beneath his fingers, and he thought of what Charles said; they were all a broken mess, each in their own way. He turned onto his side and stared at Dana’s tent, hoping she was asleep or at least near to it.
A snore from Akl, around his own smaller fire with his sons, came from his left. The other men seemed to be asleep already also. He closed his eyes, his thoughts once again on Dana, hoping she was able to find peace as she slept.
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m a d e o f o u t e r s p a c e | elias pettersson
Summary: Brock Boeser invites Elias Pettersson and his childhood best friend, Svea Nilsson, to his place on Prior Lake for the weekend. Petey is feeling some feelings. So is Svea. And in a big group of twenty-somethings at a cottage on a summer weekend, what could go wrong?
Word Count: 14.8k
A/N: Some tropes here, definitely some character archetypes, but an overall good time that includes Incredibly Soft Bitch Hours™ because I’m an Incredibly Soft Bitch™ for Elias Pettersson.
Svea Nilsson decided to go to university in Vancouver and Elias Pettersson decided to follow her. Not the other way around.
Svea and Elias had been best friends since childhood – when Elias saw her faceplant on the ice at the local rink and he helped her up. Simple as that. They had the exact same temperament, and everyone would comment about it. Their parents, their teachers, their mutual friends, their classmates – everybody would always say something: how so very quiet they were; how shy they were; how so very nice they were; how calm they were; how focused they were; how mature they were; how so very humble they were; how dry their sense of humour was; how they would open up when they got to know you. The only difference between them was hockey. When Elias began to take hockey more seriously, and play hockey more seriously, it didn’t change things. Svea only took hockey seriously because Elias did. She went to his games. She would watch him. She’d offer words of encouragement. But she was the academic. She was the one with her nose in a book in the stands in-between periods. She was the one who got straight A’s and helped Elias with his abysmal English grades and had all the teachers loving her because she was so academic, so driven.
So when Svea chose to go to Vancouver for university, where her mom was from, instead of Stockholm, where all her other friends were dying to go to get out of Ånge, everybody was shocked. Except for Elias. He was the first person she told, and the first person who told her to go for it. She admitted she was a bit nervous to apply, and even more nervous about getting in. It would mean she would have to leave him in Sweden. But Elias wasn’t scared about any of that; he wasn’t scared of much, really. “I’m going to follow you, anyway,” he’d said to her. “When I play in the NHL.”
And then she got in. And she had to leave Elias in Sweden.
But that’s when happens when your mom is Canadian and she moved half around the world for your dad – you choose to rediscover your roots and see and live in the city your mom once called home. You choose to move half-way across the world despite the fear and despite the fact that you’d leave your best friend behind, relying on May to August to spend as much time as possible with him. Even though Svea was closer to Elias than she was to anyone else in the world, including her sister; and even though, like Catherine Earnshaw said in Wuthering Heights, “Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same”, she was leaving him.
It was the hardest year of Svea’s life, when she was in Vancouver her first year and he stayed in Sweden to play with Vaxjo. They would call and text each other constantly, with FaceTimes and Skype dates written into their schedules as easily and frequently as grocery shopping. That spring, after finishing her exams on April 21st, she returned to Sweden on April 22nd, making it just in time to watch Elias score the game winning goal and the rest of the Vaxjo Lakers win the Swedish championships. She was so happy for him she cried. And when she surprised him on the ice – before all the gold paint, before all the champagne – he cried too. He hugged her for so long she thought he wouldn’t let go. And truthfully, she didn’t want him to.
When he signed his contract with Vancouver and moved to the city, he asked – practically demanded – that she live with him. She agreed because she didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to live rent free with her best friend in a beautiful condo that was bigger than the house in Ånge she grew up in. She practically had her own wing, with a giant bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows, her own bathroom, and Elias even let her have the den for all her studying. They’d cook together, go out for sushi and waffles together, and Svea would even go to some games if she wasn’t busy studying. When she was busy studying, Elias would leave her alone, which was what she loved most. He understood her. He never pressured her about anything. But when she did go out with him – to games or afterwards – he’d made sure she made friends with the team. So it became not just Elias – it became Brock, and Jake, and Marky, and Bo and Holly too, sometimes even Loui and Adam and JT.
But in the end, it was Elias. It was always Elias.
It was Elias leaving with her when she wanted to leave early from Canucks events she’d inevitably be at or just regular nights out with the guys. It was Elias calling cabs to take them home. It was Elias making sure she got tucked into bed safely, leaving an Advil and a glass of water on her bedside table. It was Elias making breakfast in the morning to cure any hangovers she got. It was Elias bringing her snacks or making sure she got a good night’s sleep before midterms or exams. It was Elias hugging her and telling her everything would be okay when she got stressed about a bad mark or an awful professor. It was Elias who would help celebrate her highs, and would be there for her lows.
It was always Elias.
>< >< >< >< ><
Friday
When Elias and Svea walked through the arrivals section of Minneapolis-St Paul International Airport, Brock Boeser was already waiting for them, holding a homemade sign that he had definitely scribbled in the car before getting there. They immediately walked over to him, giant smiles on their faces. He gave them big bear hugs – Brock always gave the best hugs, Svea thought, besides Elias – and grabbed Svea’s bag for her.
“It’s only about a half our drive out to Prior Lake,” he said as they walked out into the parking garage. “Did they feed you on the plane? You guys want to grab something to eat now?”
“We can just wait and eat something at the house,” Svea said.
“All my friends are at my place already. I told them to get lunch ready so hopefully they listened.”
“And if they didn’t we’re out of luck huh?” Elias joked as he settled into the passenger’s seat. Svea slipped into the back.
Svea had never been to Minnesota before – she hadn’t been anywhere in the States besides the Pacific Northwest – but she enjoyed the drive out to the lake as much as she could. When they finally arrived at the house, Svea admired the beautiful architectural design and big tree in the front. She knew the house backed onto the lake, so it would be nice to see what the backyard looked like if the front was this beautiful.
When Brock opened the front door, there was already music playing and a lot of commotion in the kitchen. Svea, on instinct, instantly became a bit nervous at all the voices she heard. She looked over at Elias quickly. “We’re back!” Brock yelled out over the music. Suddenly, a rush of people came from the kitchen. Svea was sure she was clutching onto her luggage so tightly her knuckles were white. “Did you guys make lunch?” Brock asked.
“Parker’s just finishing up,” a beautiful redhead said as she approached them. Svea could see the pattern of her bikini through her tank top. The girl stared directly at Elias, not giving her so much as a glance. “Is this Elias?”
“Okay, everybody!” Brock called out. “These are my friends Elias and Svea!” She and Elias smiled politely at everyone, and Elias even gave a dumb wave. “Petey, Svea…okay, we’ve got Kyla, Hallie, Marcus, McKenna, Brayden, Tanner, Brett, Parker’s outside on the barbecue I guess…and of course, you know—”
“Meeeeeee!” Brock’s girlfriend, Grace Gillespie screamed as she rounded the corner with her arms wide open for hugs, shoving past the crowd to get to her friends. After having not seen them for a couple of weeks, she was happy to be hosting them in Minnesota. “How was your flight? Everything go well?”
Svea gave her a warm hug. She was so glad to see a friendly face in Grace. Despite their personality differences Svea loved her and always had a good time with her. They were fairly close, especially while in Vancouver together trying to navigate the lives of Brock and Elias. “Everything was nice,” Svea nodded her head as Grace hugged Elias but kept her attention on Svea. “I’ve never been to Minnesota before. The drive out here was nice, too.”
“Okay, good,” she said, turning her attention back to Brock. “Babe, can you make sure Parker’s not burning his face off on the barbecue? I can show Elias and Svea their room.”
Brock ran out to the back while the group dispersed, Kyla and Hallie’s eyes watching them. Svea tried not to look, but she couldn’t help it as they made their way through the house, following Grace. When their eyes met, it was like Kyla and Hallie were hawks and Svea was the prey. Or was it Elias? Either way, she didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to find out. And when she looked at Elias again, he didn’t even seem to notice – either that, or he did and just didn’t care. As a young, star hockey player in Vancouver, he was used to people staring at him by now. There were even times where they’d be out for dinner together and people would approach their table asking for autographs or photos. Svea knew Elias wasn’t any more comfortable with it, despite it happening so often now – he was still very much uncomfortable with it – but he was learning to take it all in stride. Her, not so much. She didn’t know if she could ever get used to people wanting pictures and an autograph of her best friend. Because that’s what he still was to her, despite all his success and fame – her best friend.
Grace led them down into the basement of the house. Thankfully, it got quieter and Svea was actually able to hear her thoughts over the voices and the music. “Okay, so there’s five bedrooms upstairs and most of us are staying up there, but Brock and I know you guys, and how you like your own space and aren’t loud like the rest of them are, so we put you down here for your benefit,” Grace explained. “You’ve got the double bed and your own bathroom down here. And nobody can disturb you, so if you want to, like, take a breather, you can,” she continued, looking directly at Svea as she said the words. Svea thanked her lucky stars for Grace. When Grace opened the door, they were met with a plain but cozy bedroom. Because the basement was technically a walkout, one wall had a massive window, looking out on to the lake. There was another door that led to said washroom.
“This is so cozy,” Svea heard Elias say as he walked further into the bedroom. “Tell Brock I want him to bring me breakfast in bed down here tomorrow morning.”
Everybody couldn’t help but laugh. Svea couldn’t help but admire Elias’s smile. “Okay, well, I’ll let you two unpack and get settled,” Grace said. “Lunch should be ready in about fifteen minutes. And if I were you, I’d put on your bathing suits now because Brock’s gonna drag us all into the lake afterwards.”
She left without saying another word, leaving Svea and Elias looking at each other as they stood alone in the room. “I think I might have a headache by the end of the weekend,” Elias said.
Svea couldn’t help but snort. “I think we both will.”
“At least Grace will tell people to be quiet. Brock will only get louder,” he said as he lifted his suitcase and put it on top of the bed. Svea followed, lifting her own onto the opposite side of the bed. “You want to change and go back upstairs with everyone? I can unpack everything,” Elias offered.
“I’m not going if you’re not going,” she shook her head. It was the theme of their life together, really.
Elias smiled. “Suit yourself.”
They unpacked in relative silence, slipping past each other every so often and in and out of the washroom to put away their toiletries. Eventually Svea escaped inside the washroom to put her bathing suit on under her clothes. Elias changed while she did. When she emerged, she found him wearing an obnoxious pair of Hawaiian print swim trunks. “Did Brock buy you those?”
“He did,” Elias nodded, his smile telling her he knew they were ridiculous but there was no way he couldn’t wear them. He looked at her, standing near the doorway of the washroom, her hands adjusting the dress she’d changed into. “Are you nervous, Svea?” he asked suddenly. She couldn’t help but nod her head. “I won’t leave your side, okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, Elias.”
“That’s impossible,” he chuckled slightly, approaching her. “I worry about you constantly.”
That made Svea furrow her brows. Why would he worry about her? She didn’t think she ever gave him anything to worry about. She knew she was really reserved in big groups of people, preferring to just watch and listen rather than act and talk, but so was he. “Why do you wor—”
“Petey? Svea? Lunch is ready!” Grace called down the stairs, interrupting their conversation.
This would clearly have to be discussed later.
Elias led them back upstairs, and they looked at the back deck to see everyone congregating near the giant table as they last of the food was being put on plates by Parker. Grace grabbed Svea’s hand and led her around the table to sit next to her; Elias made sure to follow so he wasn’t stuck with any of the loud and boisterous others. Brock settled in across from him, which meant the redhead, Kyla, slid in beside him, getting a bit too close for his liking. She looked at him and smiled and he gave a tight-lipped grin back, trying to be polite, but also trying to tell her he needed more room for his elbows. He knew he wasn’t a big guy but he could barely get his hands onto the table – he’d look like a t-rex eating at this rate.
“Brock says we can call you Petey – is that okay?” Kyla asked, cocking her head to the side as she touched Elias’s forearm briefly.
“That’s fine,” he nodded quickly.
“How do you pronounce your name in Swedish, anyway? Cause I definitely want to learn how,” she continued.
“Wait! Let me do it!” Brock yelled, interrupting whatever moment Kyla was trying to create. Brock took one last look at Svea and Elias before taking a dramatic pause and saying it. “El-ee-as Pet-ter-shon.”
Svea and Elias began to clap, and Brock bowed in his seat. Elias’s smile was wide at Brock’s pronunciation. “Good job. Now we can move on to our ABCs.”
After lunch, Brock took Elias, Svea, Grace, Kyla, and Parker out on the boat. They zigzagged around the lake, the hot sun beaming down on them as Brock eventually stopped in the middle of the lake so they could swim and sunbathe for a bit. He cracked open a couple of beers and stripped down to his swim trunks. Kyla stood up in front of Elias and took her shirt off practically right in front of him, exposing her bikini. Svea couldn’t help but watch, wondering if Elias noticed how well Kyla filled it out. Svea never filled anything out. Whereas Kyla had a beautifully athletic body, Svea had nothing of the sort. She wondered if Elias noticed the difference between them. He’d known Svea practically his whole life, but Kyla would be a shiny new toy. Kyla seemed pretty dead set on getting his attention at lunch, and she was clearly taking the next step. Even when she jumped into the lake from the boat and came back on, soaking wet and body now practically glistening in the sunlight, she made sure to dry herself in front of Elias too, perching her leg on the edge of the boat to show off her long legs.
When they got back to the cottage after a few hours of being out on the lake, homemade pizzas were waiting to be devoured as dinner. And when dinner was over, Grace suggested an innocent movie night before the rowdiness of tomorrow, so everybody changed into their pajamas, poured bowls of popcorn and chips and Skittles, and sprawled out over the couches. Svea had a bowl of chips in her hands as she watched Kyla settle in next to Elias on the couch, almost instantly beginning to chat him up about the movie. Elias smiled and nodded but was soon looking around the room. When his eyes found her, he got up from the couch. Kyla was mid-sentence.
“You coming to sit?” he asked, grabbing the chip bowl and leading her to the armchair. He sat down first, scooting over to the edge until Svea sat beside him. Brock threw a blanket at her and she unfolded it right before Elias grabbed her legs and swung them over his lap. She laid the blanket on top of them.
Kyla was glaring at her. Nobody else seemed to notice, but Svea felt Kyla’s eyes burning a hole into her. Svea tried as much as possible to ignore it, but she could still feel it.
“Comfortable?” Elias asked.
Svea nodded her head. “I think you were meant to sit beside someone else,” she quipped, quickly and in Swedish so no-one else would understand.
Elias followed Svea’s line of site and saw Kyla staring, but the second she saw Elias staring too, she looked away, her face softening from its previous glare. Elias chuckled slightly. “Her forwardness scares me.”
“She’s flirting with you, you know. She’s got the hots for you.”
“I don’t care.”
She felt his hand rest in-between her legs, just above her knee, still shielded under the blanket. When she settled into his chest, and the movie started, she felt his thumb rub circles along her skin. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary – he did this all the time – but in a room full of people, and one girl in particular who seemed to want to get him into bed with her, it was a bold move.
Svea sighed. This was going to be an interesting weekend.
>< >< >< >< ><
Saturday
Svea barely remembered falling asleep during the movie, and she barely remembered being led downstairs to their room by Elias who proceeded to tuck her into bed and cuddle against her in bed, pulling her back against his chest as he wrapped an arm around her. When she awoke the next morning on her back, Elias’s one arm was still draped over her while the other was underneath the pillows. His blonde hair – usually combed back into his signature slick look – was everywhere, sticking up in every direction because of the pillow. His face looked so peaceful as he slept, the softest of snores escaping him.
Svea and Elias did this a lot: cuddle on a couch and be a bit handsy before sleeping in the same bed together, then wake up with their limbs all tangled and their faces so close to each other if they moved one inch forward, they would kiss. Maybe they shouldn’t, because it could lead to complicated feelings and mixed signals and messages, but they did. It was what they did. It started so long ago in Ånge and followed them to Vancouver and Svea didn’t—couldn’t—never wanted to stop. Did that make her selfish? Did it hold her back from meeting a nice guy? Did it hold Elias back from meeting a nice girl?
Elias never really asked, but neither did she, about any of that sort of stuff – mostly because they both knew. They both knew the other didn’t do stuff like that – hook up with people randomly, or without thought. They weren’t like that and weren’t those types of people. The last time they’d asked each other about that, the outcome was much, much different.
It was a quiet night in Ånge, with their parents both out for one reason or another. Emil was out for a friend’s birthday, and Sigrid was already in Stockholm for university. They were watching a movie, cuddled with her legs in his lap and his arm around her back under the same blanket on the couch. Truth be told, she hadn’t been paying much attention to the movie – she had other thoughts on her mind, ever since they started cuddling and Elias had put his arm around her and settled it on the hem of her pants, his fingertips grazing her skin every so often. This wasn’t the first time they cuddled together underneath a blanket. This wasn’t even the first time his fingertips touched her skin there. But because they were alone, and because Svea was…well, curious, she couldn’t help but have that curiosity get the best of her.
“Elias?” she asked in a fake-sweet voice, turning her attention away from the TV and to his face.
“Svea?” he asked back, using an equally-fake-but-sweet tone, but not looking at her.
“Do you like any girls at school?”
That caught his attention enough to have him look down at her skeptically. “What’s this about?”
She didn’t know what to say, because it’s not like she wanted to actually tell him what was really on her mind. She should have thought this through much more. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to seem nonchalant. “I’m just wondering.”
“Why? Did you hear something?”
“No.”
“Good,” he sighed out of relief. “And to answer your question – no. I don’t like any girls at school. You know I only have eyes for you anyway.”
“Oh shut up, Elias,” Svea slapped his chest and rolled her eyes at him. “You’re so full of shit.”
“Am not!” he argued, a smile playing on his face since he knew by her tone she was joking. “You’re the only girl that’s worth my time, Svea. You know that. I wouldn’t be cuddling with anyone else but you.”
“But do you think…” she found herself saying, unable to just shut the hell up. “Like, you’re not interested in the girls in our grade, but what if a boy is interested in me?”
Elias looked down at her again, brows even more furrowed and an angry look on his face. “Who?!”
“Nobody, Elias. Calm down,” she said. “I’m just saying. Is it horrible that I wouldn’t feel comfortable if a boy in our grade wanted to kiss me or something? I mean I’m sixteen but I haven’t even had my first kiss yet,” Svea knew she was just word vomiting now. She couldn’t help herself, but besides Sigrid, Elias was the only person she could have these conversations with.
“Of course it’s not horrible,” Elias said. “You’re too good for everybody in our grade anyway. Nobody should be kissing you.”
“I don’t think I’d feel comfortable with anybody besides you,” she mumbled absent-mindedly.
“What was that?”
She sighed heavily, not wanting to have to repeat herself since she was instantly embarrassed that she’d admitted those words out loud. But she knew Elias wouldn’t let it go, so she met his eyes shyly. “I said I don’t think I’d feel comfortable with anybody besides you.”
Elias paused, realizing the weight of her words as they hung in the air. He barely even blinked as the words ruminated in his mind. Svea almost wanted to pinch him because he was too quiet – even for him. All anybody ever said about him was that he was quiet, but he was being too quiet now. She was about to impulsively just get up and leave when he finally spoke. “I wouldn’t feel comfortable with anybody besides you, either.”
“Really?” she asked softly.
“Of course not,” he said. “I wouldn’t…I wouldn’t even want to,” he expressed sheepishly.
Svea shivered. She looked into Elias’s eyes and saw everything she loved about him. His humility, his sense of humour he only reserved for her and a select few others, his sense of self. There was a reason they had stayed best friends all these years, and that high school hadn’t changed anything. “Elias…” she gulped.
“Svea,” he mimicked her tone again.
“Elias…if…do you want to—I mean, would you—I—I—if we could lose our virginity to each other, would you?”
*
Svea and Elias found themselves in his bedroom, staring at the other as they stood a few feet away from each other. Both were barely breathing, too focused on the emotions being shown on the face of the other to think about something as trivial as breathing. Svea knew she didn’t want to be doing this with anyone else besides Elias, but she was still nervous. What if she didn’t kiss well? What if her breath smelled? What if Elias wasn’t attracted to her once he saw her naked? What is she did something wrong and—
“Svea?”
“Elias?”
“Are you really nervous like me?” he asked sheepishly.
She nodded her head. She could almost feel her insides trembling as much as she was on the outside. “Maybe we should start kissing.”
Elias nodded his head. “Kissing is a good start.”
They stepped towards each other until they were chest-to-chest. Elias brought his hands up slowly to cup Svea’s face before he craned his neck down. Their first kiss was soft, their lips barely touching before Elias pulled away slightly to make sure it was okay with Svea. When she saw the look in his eyes and she nodded her head, he continued, deeper this time, and they continued like that for a while, kissing as Elias cupped her face.
It was Svea who first dragged her tongue against his bottom lip, and he pulled back momentarily. He looked at her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” she nodded quickly. “And, um, Elias…”
“What is it?”
“You can—you can touch me places besides my face.”
Elias nodded his head nervously. “Okay. Sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“Are your hips okay?”
“Everywhere is okay.”
He nodded again, their lips coming together again with Svea’s tongue automatically snaking its way into Elias’s mouth. He began to do the same, his hands dragging down her sides and settling on her hips, pulling her body against his even more.
This felt nice to her. Everything with Elias felt right. Was this what she had been missing out on these past few years with boys? Svea mentally punched herself for not doing this sooner. Well, not doing this sooner with Elias. His lips were so soft, and they moved so in tune with hers. His hands traveled up her back underneath her t-shirt from her hips, making her shiver slightly. She liked how his hands felt against her skin as they grazed higher and higher, eventually meeting the bralette she was wearing. She moved her own hands down to the hem of his pants before tugging on the bottom of his t-shirt. “Can I take off your shirt?” she mumbled against his lips.
Elias didn’t say anything – he just helped her tug off his shirt before his hands went to the hem of hers and he pulled hers off as well. As her top was discarded to the side, she looked at him looking at her exposed body. He’d seen her with this much exposed skin before – in a bathing suit though – but this time was obviously different. This time was much more intimate. He feasted on the site before him, breathing heavily as he noticed the goosebumps on her skin. He looked her in the eyes and didn’t speak a word – but in that look, she knew he was telling her she was beautiful. He began kissing her again, wanting to feel her entire body with his hands and beginning to undertake that mission.
Svea tiled her head back and took in the sensation of Elias’s hands wandering all over her body, and suddenly she could feel his lips on her neck, putting her into another state of exhilaration. He kissed all the way down to her collarbone while she sunk her nails into the skin of his back. She let out a small moan as Elias sucked on her neck, not knowing that simple act could pour so much passion and energy into a person. Her hands grazed the waistband of his sweatpants. She could feel his breath hitch in his throat.
“Is that okay?” she asked, to which he nodded his head. She pushed them down gently, leaving him standing in his underwear. His hands mimicked hers. She stepped out of her pants and was now left in only her bralette and underwear. “Can we lie down on the bed?” she asked, not even bothering to wait for his answer before she sat down on the bed.
Elias looked down at Svea, and he couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face. “Oh my God…” he mumbled to himself.
“What’s so funny?” she asked, a worried look on her face.
“Your lips are so red from all the kissing. I kind of feel bad,” Elias giggled.
Svea couldn’t help but giggle as well as she brought her hand up quickly to feel her lips. They didn’t feel any more swollen, but what did she know? This was her first time, after all. She still had a burning question on her mind though. “Does—Does it feel okay? Do you like it?” she asked timidly.
Elias looked at her as if she were crazy. “You mean you can’t tell?” he asked, looking down to his lap.
Svea snorted at his crassness, shaking her head at him as they continued to giggle. Better giggling with your best friend in bed, she thought, rather than having anxiety and being uncomfortable with someone else. “Kiss me, Elias,” she smiled, and Elias was all too happy to comply.
They started by lying beside each other, kissing some more as Elias felt her up through her bralette and she palmed his hard-on through his boxers, but soon enough Elias was on top of her, and she could feel his entire body against hers. She felt like she was on fire – but in a good way; like a jolt of electricity had just shocked her. The best part of the experience was that she was doing everything subconsciously. She wasn’t thinking, for once – she was just doing. It gave her confidence to know that despite a lifetime of inaction, somehow her body knew what to do with how she was feeling. Nothing was forced. Everything felt natural, like it was supposed to be happening, and supposed to be happening only with Elias.
Then, he helped her take off her bralette.
Then, she helped him pull down his boxers.
Then, he helped her pull down her underwear.
“Did you get the condom from your brother’s room?” she whispered, and Elias nodded his head. He rolled off of her momentarily to reach over to the bedside table and grab it, opening the package and taking it out. “Do you need help?” she asked again, her breath heavy.
“I think I’ll be okay,” he said. She tried to give him some privacy by looking away, but she was too intrigued and ended up just staring. She hoped he didn’t feel embarrassed or anything – it was more of an education for both of them, really.
When he was finished, he kissed her again before getting back on top of her. “Svea…”
“Yes Elias?”
“If you ever want to stop, we can stop, okay?”
Svea nodded. “Okay.”
“Like if it hurts – we can stop. It’s not gonna be awkward if we stop. So just tell me.”
“Okay. Okay.”
He entered her slowly. It felt like nothing Svea had ever felt before, and she didn’t even know how to describe it – only that it felt right. There were no other words she could use. He pushed in a little bit further and there was a little bit of pain. She closed her eyes and winced.
“Svea?” Elias’s frantic whisper made her open her eyes. “Svea are you okay?”
“Yes, yes I’m fine,” she said unconvincingly.
“Am I hurting you?”
She couldn’t lie to him, so she nodded her head slightly. “But it’s okay.”
“I can stop—”
“Don’t,” she cut him off. “It’s okay, Elias. Just keep going.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. Don’t worry.”
He kept pushing. He hated to see the winces on her face so he decided to give her light kisses in hopes of easing the pain. When he was fully inside of her, they both stayed still to adjust to the new feeling. They were barely breathing, but had locked eyes with one another. “I love you, Svea,” he whispered tenderly.
They said those three words to each other all the time, because they did – they did love each other. What kind of love that was still remained to be seen, but because there were so many different types of love, Svea and Elias knew they loved each other in certain ways. It was why Svea had absolutely no hesitation in responding to him. “I love you too, Elias.”
As he looked into her eyes and she gave a slight nod of her head, he began moving in and out of her slowly, making sure he wasn’t hurting her or going too fast. Soon, instead of pain she began to feel pleasure, and it felt good, and she began to try to move in sync with his body. She could hear Elias grunt slightly as she did so, and she thought that he must be feeling some pleasure too, to make that noise – well at least she hoped. “Does it feel okay?” she couldn’t help but ask.
Elias nodded his head dramatically. “You feel really good.”
“I do?”
“Yeah…it…fuck, you just feel really good,” he said. She brought her hands up to cup his face. “Does it feel good for you too?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“I want to make sure it feels good for you,” he admitted. “Will…will you tell me?”
Svea nodded and Elias kissed her again, continuing to move in and out of her and making her feel good. Their soft moans became more laboured and heavier, and Svea could feel herself getting close. What her friends had always told her would happen was happening, and she almost didn’t know how to cope with the feeling. “Elias…Elias…”
“Are you close?”
“Keep going, Elias,” she closed her eyes, ready for the feeling to take over her.
“Look at me.”
She was shocked by his request, but she opened her eyes to find him staring at her. “I love you,” he told her again, and every inch of her body – from the blonde hairs atop her head to the tips of her toes – knew he meant it.
“I love you too.”
Svea felt a wave of pleasure wash over, and she arched her back and moaned out as it overtook her entire body. She felt Elias pulsating inside of her, and the desperate noises he was making, along with the heavy breathing and the trembling of his body as he buried his head into the crook of her neck meant she knew he’d just experienced the same thing.
He collapsed on top of her gently, his body still shaking as he tried to regain his breath. She wrapped her arms around him and tried to remember how this all felt – the feeling of his lips on hers; the feeling of his hands all over her body; the feeling of his hand on her breasts; the feeling of him inside her, which she knew would end soon when he’d have to pull out and they’d have to clean up. Selfishly, she wanted this moment to last forever. It was the sweetest, softest, most incredible thing she’d experienced in her short life.
Elias pushed himself up slightly, just enough so he was able to look her in the eye. “Did it feel good?” he asked.
Svea nodded her head. “It was the best feeling I’ve ever felt.”
“Me too,” Elias admitted. “I…I just wanted to make sure it felt good for you. I wouldn’t have cared if I didn—”
She couldn’t help but raise her head to kiss him to get him to shut up. She didn’t want him to ramble in this moment. He readily reciprocated the kiss, eventually pulling out of her and laying on his side. They kissed for a few moments longer before Svea pulled away. “Should we clean up?”
Elias seemed a bit taken aback by the question. “Uh, yeah, of course,” he said, trying to make it seem like he wasn’t. “But um, afterwards…can we—do you want to keep kis—I mean, do you want to stay tonight?”
When they cuddled afterwards – after cleaning up, and after Elias methodically disposed of the condom so nobody in his family would find out – Svea put on some of his old clothes and slipped into his bed. Elias followed close behind, wearing a pair of a boxers and an old t-shirt, and he cuddled up to her automatically.
Elias and Svea fell asleep like that, and when Emil got home that night and checked Elias’s bedroom to make sure he was home and saw them cuddled in the bed together, he smiled to himself.
When Svea woke up the next morning, Elias was using her chest as a pillow. And when he woke up after feeling her move, he gave her one last kiss before hearing all the noise in the kitchen. They went about their day normally. His parents didn’t think anything of it because Svea slept over so often; neither did her parents, really. They just smiled and fed her breakfast and treated her like family, as they always did. She and Elias always acknowledged what happened with each other (they didn’t tell a soul what happened – no friends, no family, nobody) but didn’t make a big deal out of it. There was no reason to. They’d done it out of love, out of some curiosity, but mostly out of love. It didn’t complicate things. If anything, it reinforced their love for one another – that they could do something so intimate, and experience it for the first time together, and not have it change things between them.
“What are you thinking about?” Elias’s soft mumble surprised her. His eyes were still closed but she could feel his legs move slightly, brushing up against hers.
“Ånge,” she lied – only slightly.
“Do you miss it?”
“Yeah,” she said softly. She missed not having to worry about Elias getting a concussion or injured in hockey. She missed how simple their lives were when they were sixteen and thought to themselves one night, “let’s have sex”.
“We’ll be home soon,” he said, finally opening his eyes. They were so sleepy as they looked right into hers, and he shifted so he could pull her body closer to his. “I know that you miss your mom and dad and that you miss Sigrid. I’m sure you miss Sundsvall too. Being by the water. When we stay at my place I know that’s your favourite part. It’s why I bought it.”
She felt a shiver run up her spine at his words. He’d never told her that before. “Do you ever get sick of me, Elias?”
“Never,” he replied automatically, nestling his head down so it was almost in the crook of her neck.
“Not even when I’m stressed about university?”
“Never.”
“Not even when you have to drive me around places because I’m scared of driving in Vancouver?”
“Never.”
“Not even when we spend time together in Ånge, then in Sundsvall, then in Stockholm, and we’re like, always together, even in the same room, all the time?”
“Never.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because we’re the same, Svea,” he said, like it was so simple. “We’re an extension of the other. And if you can’t be in the same room with yourself – if you can’t be with yourself all the time, then who can you be with?”
Another shiver ran up her spine – more powerful this time – and Elias could tell because yet again, he tightened his grip around her. He rested his lips on the exposed part of her skin where her neck met her shoulder and kissed her lightly. She looked down at him. “For the record, I never get sick of you either,” she said.
“Good,” he said. “Because I’m dragging you with me everywhere.”
“Oh yeah? And where are we going?”
“Upstairs to get coffee.”
Svea giggled as Elias rose from his position, looking down at her as his hair fell in front of his face. It was only then that should could smell the distinct aroma of the coffee he mentioned. He didn’t bother brushing his hair, instead settling with just pushing it back with his hands. Svea took a hairband and put half of her hair up in a messy bun before she followed Elias up the stairs. Luckily, they came face to face with Brock and Grace as they were pouring themselves the first batch of coffee.
“Where’s everyone else?” Svea asked, even though she was grateful for the quietness they had now.
“Still sleeping, probably too hungover to get up this early,” Grace whispered, handing Svea the cup of coffee she just poured. “Want to come out on the deck with me?”
“Of course.”
The girls went out on the deck and sat at the table; the last thing heard being Brock chirping Elias about how bad his hair looked. “Did you guys have a good sleep?” Grace asked.
Svea nodded her head. “Thanks for putting us down there.”
Grace gave her a knowing nod. “I knew, don’t worry.” She paused as she took a sip of her coffee. “So you and Elias…” she began.
Svea knew immediately where the conversation was headed. Although Svea loved Grace she wasn’t going to tell her what he’d said to her that morning. It was a personal moment not meant to be shared. Grace had been telling her for months that it was clear Elias felt something different, but Svea wasn’t so sure. He’d always acted the same around her, so she honestly couldn’t tell. “Still nothing, Grace.”
“You guys are going to be the death of me,” she was exasperated. “Do you honestly think he feels nothing for you?”
Svea shook her head. “I know that Elias loves me,” she began. “That’s not a question. But does he love me the way you’re implying? I don’t know. We’ve known each other for so long, Grace. We’ve been through everything together. It’s different when you literally grow up with someone. But like…dating? Romantic love? We’re only twenty-one. I don’t know if Elias even wants that with me.” She paused to fiddle with her hands. “Besides, I think Kyla is really into him.”
“Kyla and McKenna werent’t even supposed to be here. And if Kyla tries something with Elias, I will throw her into the lake,” Grace deadpanned. Svea couldn’t help but laugh. Grace reached over and placed her hand on Svea’s forearm. “Svea, come on. If you think Elias doesn’t want that with you, you’re wrong.”
Svea looked at the window, seeing the boys talking about something while standing next to the stove. She could only imagine how much Brock was chirping Elias about his hair – he probably hadn’t stopped. Sometimes, at night, she truly did wonder if Elias saw her in any other way besides his best friend – if he saw her as a romantic interest, as a partner – hell, sometimes even just as a woman. But she tried not to dwell on those thoughts for too long, because she knew they’d overtake her more rational thoughts eventually, and then she’d have a mess on her hands. Elias, in many ways, was her everything, and more than anything, she wondered if she was his everything too.
*
“So you and Svea…” Brock began, his voice low so no-one upstairs would overhear, and so Svea and Grace outside couldn’t hear him either. Even though he would love to see them together, and thought they were taking their sweet ass time (obviously) and were made for each other (obviously), he wanted to stay out of it and let things happen naturally. If there was one thing he knew about Petey, it was to not force him into things. Grace had other ideas. She wanted Brock to help her get to the bottom of it. She wanted to know all the details. And, well, Brock loved his girlfriend, so here he was.
“What about it?” Elias asked.
“Bud, you can’t stand there and tell me there’s nothing between you.”
Elias sighed. “I don’t want to get into it.”
“That’s great, ‘cause I do. You mean to tell me nothing happened last night?”
Elias gave Brock one of his infamous death stares. He knew Brock wouldn’t let it go and that they death stare had no use. He shook his head slightly. “No, nothing happened last night. I don’t want to risk it.”
“Risk what?”
“Losing her.”
Brock furrowed his brows. “What on earth makes you think you’d lose her? Do you honestly think she doesn’t have feelings for you?”
“We’ve grown up together, Brock. It’s different. I know Svea loves me. She’s been there for me through everything, through all the hockey, and she never complained once,” Elias shook his head again. “I can’t be selfish and demand this from her too. Besides, I don’t know if she wants that with me. It…I…just…I love her, Brock – in all the ways a person can love another person, but—”
“But do you love her romantically?” Brock asked.
Elias paused. His mouth dropped open, about to say his answer that he knew definitively in his heart, until out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure. He looked over to his right to see Kyla stretching at the foot of the stairs, her pyjama t-shirt riding up to expose her midriff. It was very obvious she wasn’t wearing a bra. “Good morning,” she cooed after she finished her stretch, looking directly at Elias.
Brock looked like he was about to punch a wall. Elias looked away from what she was trying to show off. “Good morning.”
“Is that coffee I smell?” she asked, walking into the kitchen.
“Just made,” Brock said, his voice monotone. “Are the others up?”
“McKenna’s just about to come down,” she said, stepping in between Elias and Brock. Brock left the situation. She peeked up at Elias through her eyelashes. “Have a good sleep?” she asked.
“The best.”
“Is it cold in the basement?” she asked, her voice low so only Elias could hear her. “Need some warming up?”
Her forwardness really did scare him. “It’s not cold down there when Svea’s there,” he said.
Kyla’s face immediately dropped. Before she could try to flirt some more, Grace and Svea walked back in from the back deck. Svea was almost immediately looking at Elias, trying to survey the situation. “Should we start breakfast?” Grace asked, moving past Kyla towards the fridge. Grace gave her a death stare for being so close to Elias. “What do you want to work on?”
As more of the guests made their way down the stairs, every chose a job to do – Svea and Elias worked on the bacon; Brock and Grace the scrambled eggs; Kyla made toast; Marcus worked on setting the table; Brayden made the sausages; Brett and Parker cut up fruit. McKenna and Hallie made more coffee. Breakfast was ready in no time.
When everybody began to sit around the table, Svea was shocked to see Kyla sit beside her. “So Brock told us you live in Vancouver, too,” she said, smiling. “Whereabouts?”
“Oh, um, Yaletown. Same as Brock and Elias,” she said, omitting the face that she lived with him.
“Oh my God, that’s so cool,” Kyla put some scrambled eggs onto her plate. Svea knew she didn’t really care. “And how do you know Elias?”
Svea knew Kyla cared about that, so she gave into the questioning because she knew everyone else in the house save for Brock, Grace, and Elias would think she was a bitch if she didn’t. “We met when we were three – we grew up together in Sweden.”
“And then you followed him to Vancouver?”
“No no no,” Svea shook her head vehemently. She could see Elias smile as he settled in on the edge of the bench beside her. “Elias followed me.”
“Elias followed you?”
“Svea always wanted to go to UBC because her mom is originally from Vancouver,” Grace piped in, stuffing a piece of strawberry into her mouth. “Svea got accepted first. Then Petey was drafted, but stayed in Sweden for a year. Then he signed with the Canucks and the rest is history.”
“Svea could have told me, Grace,” Kyle said teasingly as she gave a look to Svea. “You’re so quiet, girl. Speak up a bit.”
“Svea speaks when she wants to,” Grace quipped again. “And more importantly, when she needs to.”
When breakfast was over, everybody showered, got ready, and changed into their bathing suits before heading outside for another day out on the water and patio. Brock commandeered his boat and suggested some wakeboarding and other watersports out on the lake. In the smaller boat, Brayden, Brett, Parker, and Hallie followed them out onto the lake. There was no way Svea would wakeboard, but she knew Elias liked it. She opted to take photos and videos of Elias doing so instead. His parents were going to kill him.
They were out having fun on the water for so long – diving off the boat, swimming, wakeboarding, tanning, drinking, relaxing, talking – that nobody noticed they didn’t have lunch. They just kept up their activities, with Elias wakeboarding a few times, followed by Brock while Marcus commandeered the boat. Parker did a few cool flips while he wakeboarded. It was hot, the sun was shining, and Svea was having the time of her life. For those hours they were out on the lake, what Elias had said to her that morning in bed, and what Kyla had said and done (and continued to say and do) didn’t matter; she was just a girl out on a boat with her friends, and life couldn’t get any better.
But then, of course, reality set back in. More hours isolated on the boat meant more drinking. Not from Svea, of course, because she knew her limit and because she didn’t want to get drunk in front of, statistically, more people she didn’t know than did; and not from Brock or Brett, because they had to drive the damn boats; but from the others – Marcus, before he drove the boat; and Grace, because she wanted to have fun; and Kyla, because she was Kyla; and McKenna, because Svea had no clue anymore because it wasn’t like McKenna spoke three words to her since the moment she got there.
Svea was expecting nothing when everyone wanted to take one last dip in the lake before they went back to the house. So when they all stood at the edge of the boat, and when Brock was finished taking the Instagram picture for Kyla of all of them with their hands around each other’s backs, they all jumped. Svea hit the water hard and deep, like divers usually did, but something felt different. Something felt…off. And when she emerged from the water, wiping her eyes and trying to figure out what it was, it hit her like a tonne of bricks.
Where was her top?
She felt everything in her stop. When Elias emerged from the water and looked around to find her, the first thing he noticed was the petrified look on her face. “Svea?” he asked.
“Yooooohooooo!” McKenna’s giggles were loud. Svea turned around to face everybody else: Grace, Kyla, Marcus, Brayden, Brett, Parker, Hallie, and McKenna, only to see McKenna waving her bathing suit top above her head. Svea’s bathing suit top.
She was absolutely mortified.
She screamed out in fear, finally having the wherewithal to cover her exposed breasts by hugging herself. Kyla’s laughs and enthusiastic woos filled her mind as McKenna whipped it around like a lasso, like it was some prize they’d won. In a way, it was: she’d won in making Svea feel completely embarrassed and uncomfortable and humiliated.
“What the hell McKenna! Give it back!” she heard Brock scream from the boat. Svea watched as Elias swam over to McKenna and snatch the top out of her hands. Grace looked like she was going to perform a ritualistic murder right then and there.
“Oh come on! It’s just a little bit of fun!” McKenna tried to defend herself.
“It’s how you get christened in Minnesota!” Kyla added. “Everybody knows that!”
Svea tried not to focus on them anymore; they would defend themselves to the last second before the door dropped for the noose, so there wasn’t any point in listening. Instead, she tried to focus on calming her emotions that she knew would bubble over – the tears that were threatening to escape, the flush of red to her cheeks, the nervous shaking from all the embarrassment of these girls and these men probably seeing her practically naked body underneath the water before she even realized what was going on. She tried to focus on Elias, swimming back to her with her bathing suit top in his hands. “Elias…” she said her voice extremely shaky.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he cooed, swimming up to cover her before handling the bikini top, trying to figure out which part went over her head. She grabbed it from him to try to help. “I got you, it’s okay.”
“Elias I’m so embarrassed,” she cried, her hands trembling too much to do it. “I can’t—I can’t—”
“Here, let me,” he mumbled, taking the top back from her.
“Could they see everything? Be honest.”
“No. You can’t see anything in lake water Svea,” he said quickly.
She knew he was probably lying to her – the lake water was clear as fucking day. “Elias—”
“It’s okay—”
“Elias I’m mortified.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he kept repeating, putting the top back on over her head before turning her around without warning so he could tie it for her. “You’re okay, Svea. You’re okay.”
“Everybody saw my boobs Elias,” she cried again, still clutching onto them through her bikini top like they were going to fall out again. He wrapped an arm around her and began swimming back to the boat. “Only you’ve ever seen my boobs.”
Elias looked at her when she said the last sentence. She couldn’t discern the look on his face. “And it stayed that way,” he said. “Nobody saw, Svea. The water was all…wavy.”
Elias let her climb back onto the boat first, where Brock was ready with an open towel for her. “Here you go, sweetheart,” he said, wrapping her in it.
“Thanks, Brock.”
He absolutely hated hearing the defeat and embarrassment in her voice. “Grace will take care of Kyla and McKenna, don’t worry,” he said quickly as everybody else began climbing up the ladder and back onto the boat.
The first thing McKenna did when she got back on the boat – even before drying herself off, which was what you were supposed to do – was finish off her beer. Grace glared at her once she finally grabbed a towel. “You need to apologize,” Grace said firmly, looking right at McKenna. “What you did was so mean.”
“Oh come on, it wasn’t a big deal,” McKenna rolled her eyes. Svea wondered if that was the alcohol talking or if McKenna was really like this. She couldn’t imagine Brock being friends with someone like her. But then she remembered that Kyla and McKenna weren’t even supposed to be here this weekend, and it all sort of made sense. Maybe they were friends of friends, and Brock was too nice to say no. Maybe he knew them only casually, and they tagged along unannounced to take advantage of being at an NHL player’s house for the weekend.
“It was a big deal to Svea,” Grace continued, her voice still firm. Grace looked at her to see her face still sullen.
“It’s fine,” Svea mumbled out, Elias’s arm wrapped tightly around her shoulder as she sat on his lap. She didn’t want to cause any trouble, regardless. She was a guest at Brock’s house as much as McKenna was, and didn’t want or need the added attention on her.
“I’m sooooorrryyyy, Svea,” McKenna laughed through her apology. “But you’re considered a Minnesotan now, so take that a bonus.”
Svea didn’t respond. She just nodded her head down and nestled further onto Elias, letting her head lean against his as Brock navigated back to the house. McKenna and Kyla didn’t have a care in the world as they continued to talk to each other the entire way back, shooting a few looks her way throughout the journey back. They disembarked the boat first before running into the house. Brock helped Svea get off the boat, where she immediately went down to the basement to take a shower. She felt like she had to get all the lake grime off of her before everybody started prepping for dinner.
As she changed into regular clothes and stood in front of the mirror trying to French braid her hair, she heard the hustle and bustle from upstairs. She tried to pay it no mind until she began to hear voices – all too familiar voices.
“Petey is so hot and cold, don’t you think?” Kyla voice was a bit muffled, but it definitely sounded more sober than what it sounded like half an hour ago when she issued her fake apology. Svea stood silent. Maybe eavesdropping wasn’t the most noble of things to do, but she was going to do it anyway. “I don’t know if he even registers that I’m flirting with him.”
“I think that alien is hot for only one person here, and that’s Svea,” she heard McKenna retort.
“You think so?”
“You don’t see the way he looks at her all the time? They’re even sleeping in the same bed.”
“Yeah, but Brock said they grew up together in Sweden—”
“So?” McKenna retorted. “That ‘she’s like my little sister’ line guys always pull is bullshit. And Petey didn’t even say that about her. They’re best friends. Well, best friends. You know what that’s code for.”
“Well, hopefully by the end of the weekend he’ll have a new best friend,” Kyla chirped.
“Listen, if anybody in this house could pull it off, it’s you,” McKenna encouraged her. “He was eyeing you in your bikini yesterday. I mean, you’re much more appealing that way than she is. Every guy loves a good flirt. Just use what you’ve got and I’m sure he’ll open up to it. Only problem is Svea’s gonna have to sleep on the couch when you do.”
The girls giggled and Svea could feel her blood boil. Elias wasn’t hers by any means, and she didn’t own him in any way, shape, or form, but Elias was hers. In every sense, he was hers, and she was getting angry at herself for getting angry at these girls for wanting him. Who was she to stop him from getting what he wanted if he really wanted Kyla? And who was she to cry and be upset about it when Elias was a grown man and she was a grown woman capable of making their own decisions about who they liked and who they slept with? She quickly fastened the end of her French braid with an elastic and wiped away the angry tears that fell, trying hard not to cry so she wouldn’t go back upstairs with red eyes. She’d already been embarrassed once today; she didn’t need to be embarrassed again.
She waited a few minutes until her emotions subsided before she walked back upstairs. Almost everybody had congregated in the kitchen. She saw Elias sitting outside on the deck. Kyla was already all over him, pressed up against him. She didn’t quit. Svea had to at least admire her persistence.
*
That night, after dinner and drinking and drinking games and loud music and laughing and singing and even some drunken dancing, Svea watched as Kyla plopped herself into Elias’s lap as they all sat in Adirondack chairs around the firepit near the water. Grace bought boxes of smores kits and they were wrapping them in foil for everyone to toast over the fire. The boys were still drinking and finishing off the rest of the beers; Kyla was finishing hers as she sat on Elias’s lap. Kyla was looking into Elias’s eyes as she sat on Elias’s lap. Kyla was giggling and flirting as she sat on Elias’s lap. Kyla wiggled her butt suggestively as she sat on Elias’s lap.
And as long as Kyla was going to sit on Elias’s lap, Svea couldn’t be there.
She wondered if Grace could see her almost constant glances in their direction. She felt a rumbling in her stomach, probably from all the alcohol that was now mixing with the jealousy that roared in her belly. A lethal combination for anyone, Svea thought, least for her, who’d grown up with him and watched him mature and was now watching as another girl was trying to take him from her, slipping him through her fingers like sand on a beach.
“Can you save mine? I just want to go to the washroom for a quick second,” Svea said as she stood up.
“Don’t be long. There’s only so long I can wait to have chocolate,” she smiled and winked.
Svea walked the path up to Brock’s house and walked inside. Luckily there was nobody else inside, so she was free to be alone – alone with her thoughts, her emotions, and the tears that threatened to spill, yet again. Did she have a right to be jealous? Did she have a right to feel these feelings for Elias and have them bubble up because of the persistent actions of another girl? She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t know what to think.
Svea didn’t know how long she was in the house alone for. But as she was lost in her thoughts, she heard the screen door open. She looked up to see Elias. He was glad he didn’t have to look hard to find her. “Hi.”
“Hi Elias.”
“What are you doing in here?” he asked, closing the door behind him.
Svea shrugged her shoulders. “Just thinking.” She used that answer a lot on him. He was used to it. The alternative to talking, which she expected Kyla did a lot of outside with him anyway. He walked over and sat beside her on the couch – right beside her, leaving her no room. He took her hand and held it in his. Her brows furrowed slightly. “Why’re your hands so clammy?” she asked.
“Why do you think?” he asked. “I had to spend twenty minutes outside with Kyla on my lap trying to get me hard.”
The jealousy roared in her belly again. Here it was. He came in to ask her the inevitable request for her to sleep on the couch tonight so he could bring Kyla down to the basement instead. Grace would have to get her an extra blanket and pillow. Her back would hurt tomorrow morning. She’d have to wake up whenever the first person came down and offer to make coffee and—
“Are you here to ask me to sleep on the couch tonight?” Svea blurted out.
Elias furrowed his brows, looking at her like she had three heads. “Why would I make you sleep on the couch?”
“Because you want to sleep with Kyla,” Svea said matter-of-factly.
Elias froze. “Svea,” he deadpanned.
“Elias?”
“Svea, you’re the smartest person I know, but you can be incredibly dumb sometimes.”
Svea was taken aback by his words. He often teased her like this, maintaining that she often didn’t see things that were right in front of her. Maybe it was one of her many faults, along with so many other things she was learning about herself this weekend, perhaps the worst being how possessive she was over him. “What do you mean?”
“Svea—” Elias tried to begin, but he couldn’t find the right words. He sighed before continuing. “Do you remember that night in Ånge where my brother rented all the Austin Powers movies and we spent the entire night watching them?”
“Yes…”
“Well here’s a line for you,” he said, trying to remember it word for word. “If I was the last man on earth, and she was the last woman on earth, and the future of the human race depended on our having sex to keep the population going, I still would not sleep with Kyla.”
Svea’s breath hitched in her throat. “But Elias—”
“How could you honestly think I’d want to have sex with her?”
“She’s into you. And she’s pretty, Elias, and tanned, and fit…and she’s—”
“No, Svea,” he interrupted her firmly. “I would have rather had you on my lap out there. You know that.”
“I can’t get you hard,” Svea mumbled.
Elias smiled amusingly at her words. “You don’t think so?”
She didn’t appreciate him mocking her. She rolled her eyes at him and his attempt to make light of this situation. “Elias—”
“Svea, you’ve been getting me hard since we were sixteen and we were each other’s first,” he finally confessed, albeit a bit crassly. It wasn’t the way he wanted it to be out in the open, but right now, there was no turning back.
The words hung in the air as they looked each other in the eye. Svea couldn’t believe what had just come out of his mouth. Elias was always honest with her, always, so to say that she was shocked he’d just admitted that out loud was an understatement. Elias was a quiet guy, always, and she was a quiet girl, always, and that was…new. “Are…are you s-serious, Elias?” she stuttered out.
“I would never lie to you, Svea,” he said. “Now can you come back outside and sit on my lap?”
*
When Elias and Svea walked outside, he brought her directly onto the dock, right to the end so they were looking out at the lake. She made eye contact with three people on the way there: Brock, who sent a wink her way when he noticed the two of them together; Grace, who sent her own wink and wiggled her eyebrows; and Kyla, who sent her a death stare when she noticed Elias was holding her hand to guide her through the relative darkness. When they finally reached the end of the dock, Svea saw one of Brock’s Adirondack chairs and a blanket. Elias adjusted it so it faced the lake. Svea looked back towards the backyard; everyone was dispersed in their own little groups, allowing them the alone time and privacy Elias apparently wanted.
“What are you looking at?” Elias asked quietly, trying to preserve the tranquility of the dusk.
“Nothing,” she brushed him off. She wasn’t going to tell him she was making sure Kyla wasn’t stomping down the dock to join them.
“Then come sit.”
When she looked back at him over her shoulder, he was already sitting on the Adirondack chair, unfolding the blanket. It was a scene Svea had encountered countless times before – in Sundsvall, specifically, on the balcony of his apartment when they’d go out at night and look out at the water and the lights of the city across the Bothnian Sea. She moved to sit on his lap, settling into him as he wrapped an arm around her and lay the blanket over them. He draped his other arm across her lap while the one around her back snuck underneath her shirt, rubbing the skin at the small of her back. When he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, his nose and lips grazing her skin, a shiver ran up her spine. She was sure he could tell.
She began to remember the things he’d said since they got to Minnesota: how he always worried about her, about how they were an extension of each other, how he bought his apartment in Sundsvall because he knew being by the water was her favourite. And now, with the comment said not even five minutes ago about her getting him hard since they were sixteen. She thought about the implications of it all, and what it meant for her – what it meant for them, really, because she agreed with what he said about being an extension of each other.
She was apparently lost in her thoughts – too lost for a few moments, because when she finally came to, she felt his lips graze the skin between her shoulder and neck. “What are you doing, Elias?” she asked, her voice as quiet as his was before.
He didn’t answer. Instead, they made eye contact and he looked at her for a few moments before leaning in and kissing her. Like everything Elias did, he was perfect at it. Soft lips, a passionate touch, and a tenderness nobody else could duplicate. Much like when they were sixteen, she didn’t want it to end. But when it did, with Elias pulling away first so he could look her in the eyes again, there was something else to be said. “I love you.”
They were words Svea had heart countless times before – countless – but this time, it felt different. Completely different. She froze slightly. “You love me, Elias?”
“Of course I love you.”
“No, Elias,” she bit her lip. “You, like…love me?”
“Yes, Svea,” he said, his hand traveling further up her back. “If you ever want to thank Kyla for one thing, it’s for making me realize how much I love you, and how long I’ve loved you for, because all her attention made me realize that I only want that kind of attention from you, that I only want you, and nobody else, and the thought of being with anyone else, or the thought of you being with anyone else makes me sick to my stomach.”
She felt a rush of blood to her cheeks as she blushed. How long had she been waiting for him to hear those words and she didn’t even know? How long had she wanted him to say those words to her, deep down inside somewhere within her? Had she known this entire time and just not realize it? Had she felt the same this entire time too and just didn’t verbalize it? She couldn’t help but think he was being a bit of a drama queen about it though. “You brought me all the way to Brock’s house in Minnesota to tell me this?”
Elias giggled like a schoolgirl. “I guess I did.”
“You’re an idiot.”
“I never said I was smart like you,” he said. “Remember when all the kids in class would call me space boy and alien boy because they said I looked like an alien?”
“You do look like an alien.”
Elias nudged her. She laughed before snuggling back into him. “If I’m the alien, you’re the stars, Svea.”
She smiled. This time, it was her that moved to kiss him, doing it by her own accord and with such conviction she surprised even herself. It was like she was sixteen all over again, except she wasn’t; she was still Elias’s best friend; still the most important person in his life; still getting him hard, apparently. Yet now, she was twenty-one – older, somewhat wiser; a university student, not some precocious high schooler; living in Vancouver, not in Ånge; having Elias telling her he loved her – loved her loved her – not just as friends. That he made clear. And although she was still coming to terms with it, and still couldn’t really wrap her head around it, at least her body was reacting to the news appropriately, much like her body had reacted appropriately all those years ago in Ånge, when she came up with the brilliant idea they’d acted on.
The only thing that could interrupt their kissing was Brock screaming at the top of his lungs. As Elias and Svea pulled apart, they watched as Brock ran down the dock in only his boxers, somersaulting into the lake like some sort of Olympic diver. They couldn’t help but laugh out loud as he came back up, whipping his hair to the side so it was out of his eyes.
“Brock!” Grace yelled, grimacing as she ran after him. “You’re going to smell like a wet dog!”
*
Tanner had passed out on the bathroom floor, and everybody decided to leave him there just in case. Marcus faceplanted into the couch, saying he couldn’t deal with stairs. Brock said the dive into the lake sobered him up, so Grace dragged him up the stairs into their bedroom. McKenna and Kyla were the first to shut their bedroom door, but not before Kyla gave one last look at Elias’s arms wrapped around Svea and wishing she was in that position.
When they descended down into the basement together, Svea could barely get a word in edgewise before Elias shut the door and his lips found hers again. No less passionate and no less soft, his hands attached themselves to her hips, almost immediately finding their way underneath her top while his tongue slipped into her mouth. His hands felt warm against her skin but they still sent shivers down her spine. She ran her fingers through his hair, pushing it back so it wouldn’t tickle her like it sometimes did.
He guided her towards the bed. When the backs of her legs hit the edge, Elias’s hands traveled higher. Svea’s breath hitched in her throat as his fingers traced the edges of her bralette. He noticed and stopped kissing her. “You’re not scared, are you?” he asked hesitantly.
“No no no,” she whispered as she shook her head. “Just…nervous.”
“Why would you be nervous?”
“I…don’t know,” Svea said. She did know why. She just didn’t want to say it out loud and risk embarrassing herself. “I…I haven’t been with anybody besides you, Elias,” she finally admitted.
He seemed sort of shocked for only a moment. “You never did anything first year university when you were here alone?” he asked.
“No. I couldn’t bring myself to. I didn’t…I didn’t want to if it wasn’t you.”
Elias nodded his head. He understood. “Me too.”
Her brows furrowed. “Me too what?”
“I haven’t been with anybody beside you,” he confessed.
Svea couldn’t hold back her shock like he could. “What? Not even in Vaxjo? You were the star of the team,” she reasoned. She found it hard to believe because there was no way – no way – that he didn’t get offers left, right, and centre while he was playing for them, especially during their championship run.
“I never…no,” he shook his head. “I didn’t want to if it wasn’t you, either,” he used her own words.
Svea took a deep breath. God, they were so stereotypical. They were such losers. A star hockey player and a first-year university student living away from home for the first time and they didn’t take advantage of their situations because they didn’t want to without each other. “We’re so lame, Elias,” she deadpanned.
Elias couldn’t help but laugh at her words. “I know, right? We’re pathetic.”
“So pathetic.”
Elias gave her a quick kiss as they giggled. “Svea?”
“Elias?”
“I love you.”
Svea smiled. “I love you too.”
“Can I make up for lost time? Can we make up for lost time?” he asked softly.
Svea took another deep breath. Her hands rose to rub his chest as she nodded her head, momentarily forgetting the small little detail that they were at Brock’s house. In the basement. Just as Elias dipped down to continue kissing her, she brought her hands up to his lips. “We’re at Brock’s house.”
Elias furrowed his brows. “So?”
“Won’t it be a bit awkward?”
He laughed again. “Svea, come on. More awkward than doing it in the bed I slept in as a kid?”
“Elias!” she exclaimed, the both of them giggling uncontrollably. “Well when you put it like that—”
Elias couldn’t wait any longer. He dipped his head down so he could start kissing her again, his tongue slipping in with ease. With his hands travelling higher and higher, he eventually helped tug her top off, letting it fall by their feet. He could feel the goosebumps along her skin. He could feel her tugging at his shirt, too, and helped with taking it off.
When they moved to lie down on the bed, Elias made sure to kiss at Svea’s neck and collarbone. The little sighs and gasps that escaped her was his fuel to keep going, travelling lower and lower until he reached her chest. “What do you like?” his voice husky.
That was a mute question. Not only could Svea not think right now with Elias’s lips so close to her boobs, and it wasn’t like she had the experience to know what she liked and didn’t like so she could tell him. “I—I don’t know. Anything.”
“Anything?”
“It’s you, Elias. Anything will feel good.”
He started to touch her more as his lips found her neck and clavicle again. He could feel her back arch and her hips pushing into his as his lips got close to her breasts again. When he pushed the material down and kissed a path down, he heard her sigh. “Is that okay?”
“Yes yes yes,” she said quickly and successively, the sensation clearly new to her.
He continued his handiwork expertly, his tongue grazing along her exposed skin. The mewls she let out almost drove him insane, and he could feel himself getting harder by the second. He had waited for so long that he wasn’t sure if he was going to last as long as he wanted to and do all the things he wanted to do to her, with her. He kissed a trail back up to her lips and his hands wandered down to her shorts, unbuttoning them as quickly as he could.
When he slipped off her shorts, she worked on his. “Do you have a condom, Elias?” she breathed out.
He did – he was prepared – but he froze momentarily. “Of course, but—”
“But what?” she asked worriedly.
“No no,” he said, trying to backtrack. “I’m not—it’s—I want to do so much,” he admitted.
Svea shook her head. “I can’t wait. Please just…just—”
“Svea—”
“Please Elias, I just want you inside me right now,” she practically begged. “We have all the time in the world to do so much. I just want to feel you inside me.”
Elias didn’t need to be told twice. He understood where she was coming from – he knew that, at least for him, he’d been waiting a long time to do this again, and although he wanted to savour the moment, he also didn’t want to waste any time. So he came back up and rolled over slightly, reaching down into his bag and grabbing a string of condoms. Svea couldn’t help but smile as she saw all the packages. He leaned back on his knees and ripped the first one off and ripped it open. Svea sat up to take it from his hands and help him roll it on. She even pumped him a few times when she was finished, kissing him fervently.
Maybe she had the right idea, to just go for it and not wait. Because if she kept doing that, Elias knew he wasn’t going to last long.
As she lay back down, Elias slipped off her underwear and loomed over her. On instinct, one of his hands went to her thighs and she wrapped her legs around him. His hand travelled from her thigh to her hot centre, and she flinched at his touch. He couldn’t help but smile down at her at how sensitive she was. “You okay, pretty girl?”
“I need you, Elias,” she huffed out.
When he entered her she cried out in pleasure. He kissed her passionately as he pushed further and further in, and when he bottomed out, he made sure to give her time to adjust to his size. Due to their confessions earlier, he knew it had been a while for her – a while for both of them – so he’d need to adjust too. He’d almost forgotten how good she felt; how perfectly she fit around him. It wasn’t like he dreamt about how she felt around him for four years now. “You alright?” he asked quickly.
“You feel so good, Elias,” she said, her eyes still closed.
“Does it hurt?” he asked quickly, wanting to make sure he wasn’t hurting her like he had the first time.
She shook her head and finally opened her eyes. “No. It feels good. It feels…it feels right.”
Elias gave her a quick kiss. He began moving in and out of her slowly, and she began to roll her hips in tune with his movements. “I love you, Svea,” he whispered against her lips.
“I love you too, Elias.”
“When we get back to Vancouver I’m going to make love to you on every inch of our apartment,” he said. “And then when we get back to my place in Sundsvall, there too.”
“You promise?” she asked, her smile cheeky, the possibility of making love to Elias over and over and over again giving her so much joy.
“We have to make up for lost time, don’t we?” his smile became equally as cheeky. “Besides, we need to live out the first-year university year and the Vaxjo year where we did fuck all because we’re so lame.”
The both of them giggled, and Svea remembered back to their first encounter at sixteen, where she thought it was better to laugh with your best friend in bed than to be nervous with somebody else. She hoped that they’d continue to giggle; that they’d continue to laugh together during their most intimate moments. She ran her nails up and down his back before digging them into his shoulder blades. “Make love to me, Elias,” she bit her lip.
Elias did just that, increasing his pace as he moved in and out of her, his small grunts and her small moans filling the room. After a while, when Svea felt herself getting close, she arched her back and brought Elias’s face down to kiss him. “Cum with me.”
“You’re close?”
She nodded her head. “I want you to cum with me, Elias.”
Elias couldn’t hold back. She felt so good and there was no way he’d be able to last any longer, so he let go completely. As she made him see stars, he felt her walls tighten around him. She cried out in pleasure as she came with him, holding on to him tightly so she could feel his body pressed against hers. She kept her limbs wrapped around him as he collapsed on top of her, trying to catch their breath. She played with the hair at the nape of his neck as they both calmed down.
“I love you so much,” he mumbled into her nape of her neck as his breathing finally began to steady. “You have no idea Svea.”
“I think I do,” she responded softly.
Elias pulled out and quickly ran to the washroom. Svea – too hung up on trying to savour the feeling, and too tired to care – stayed in bed and watched him through droopy eyes. When he came back, he slipped into bed and wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. As they drifted off to sleep, Svea couldn’t help but think that she was the luckiest girl in the world. Elias, conversely, affirmed his own thoughts that he was the luckiest guy alive.
>< >< >< >< ><
Sunday
When Elias woke the next morning, he was using Svea’s chest as a pillow. He didn’t remember how they got in that position, and truthfully, he didn’t care to. All he cared about was the feeling of her skin beneath his touch, how her breathing was slow and steadied, and how one of her hands was conspicuously still at the nape of his neck, like she’d been playing with his hair all night. Intoxicated by it all, he couldn’t help but graze his lips over her skin lightly, wanting to wake her up as slowly and peacefully as he could.
His lips grazed and kissed along her collarbone, then moved up to her neck before dipping down again. He could feel her move slightly, her foot dragging along his leg as she sighed slightly, finally opening her eyes. “G’morning,” she mumbled, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Good morning, pretty girl,” he mumbled against her skin, craning his head up so he could kiss her on her lips.
They gave each other long, lazy kisses for a while, until Elias moved down to her neck again, cupping her breast underneath the covers. Svea moaned softly. “We’re going straight into this, aren’t we?”
Elias gave her a quick kiss. “Like I said last night, we have to make up for lost time,” he reasoned. He’d spend the entire summer making up for lost time if he had to (read: wanted to).
She smiled. Before she could say anything else, loud footsteps could be heard upstairs. Elias groaned, because it meant people were up. And if people were up, it meant they wouldn’t get the privacy he wanted to do what he wanted. Svea giggled at his groans, which only made him do it louder. “What the hell are they doing up so early?” he mumbled.
“I don’t think it’s early,” Svea said. “I think it’s us.” She looked over to her side to see the time on the alarm radio. “It’s definitely us.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost 9:30.”
Elias grumbled again. Svea laughed and slipped out from underneath him, not taking her eyes off of him as he nestled back into bed. “Elias?”
“Svea?”
“I love you.”
He smiled like a schoolboy – like he was a kid again and stole a cookie from the jar. “I love you too, Svea.”
“You guys awake yet?!” Grace’s voice boomed down on them from the top of the stairs. She was smart enough not to descend. “Breakfast is almost ready and Brock won’t save you bacon, Petey!”
They gave each other one last kiss before quickly washing their faces and going upstairs. Almost everybody was already seated around the table for breakfast, so they took their seats and filled their plates with the passed food. Elias’s hand grazed Svea’s thighs underneath the table. Svea tried not to let it show.
“What took you guys so long?” Hallie asked as she bit into a piece of toast.
“We were just talking,” Elias was purposely vague.
“What the fuck do you two even talk about?! Neither of you talk!” Tanner exclaimed. “You’re both so quiet!”
Elias smiled. At any other point in the weekend, he probably would have gotten mad at the comment. He probably would have gotten defensive or uptight or however he usually got when people told him he was so quiet and needed to talk more; he also would have been protective of Svea, who took those types of comments more personally, and called the other person a gaphals or something equally as Swedish in frustration because when he was frustrated he couldn’t find the English words for things as easily.
But this time, things were different. None of that mattered anymore. Anybody could say whatever they wanted, make whatever observations they wanted about the two of them as people, but all that mattered, whether the outside world cared or not, was that he and Svea loved each other. Simple as that. It was corny, and it was cliched, but Elias didn’t care.
#elias pettersson#elias pettersson blurb#elias pettersson imagine#elias pettersson one shot#elias pettersson drabble#elias pettersson fic#vancouver canucks imagine#vancouver canucks one shot#vancouver canucks drabble#vancouver canucks fic#the space series
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[Part 1]
Laurent isn’t trying to hurt Auguste, most of the time.
The rest of the time... well .
Logically, he knows it’s not his brother’s fault; he didn’t know, and if he had, he would’ve gotten Laurent out in as long as he took to get to Uncle’s house. That’s the simple truth.
The problem is, it’s not simple.
The problem is, Laurent tried to tell him.
The problem is, Laurent was alone in that place for three years and Auguste didn’t fucking notice a thing.
The problem is, Laurent still feels like he’s stuck in that place and he can’t get out and he can’t move on and sometimes talking about it with Paschal only makes him feel worse. The problem is Laurent can’t sleep, the problem is his nightmares leave him gutted, the problem is he hasn’t cut his hair because he knows Uncle liked it long, the problem is he hates that, the problem is he can’t bring himself to cut his fucking hair.
The problem is everyone around him who knows pretends they don’t, pretend it’s never happened, and maybe they think they’re doing him a favor but they’re not, because Laurent doesn’t get the luxury of pretending it never happened, of forgetting about it.
“He fucked me in your room.” When he’s feeling particularly vicious, he mentions it; it makes Auguste’s face do something Laurent both hates and relishes. He doesn’t like hurting his brother, or, logically, he knows he shouldn’t, but he doesn’t care about anything, nothing at all is important because he’s so fucking angry. He needs Auguste to react, to do something , to not keep talking to him in calm voices and understanding words as Kashel told him; Laurent heard her. He doesn’t need any of that. He needs someone to be as angry as he is, to give him any sort of fight, a reason to feel like this.
“Oh.” Auguste would never forbid him talking about it, but he’s evidently uncomfortable; he probably knows Laurent is doing this only to bother him – Laurent never really talks about it with anyone but Paschal, his therapist – but he doesn’t stop him, either, and Laurent hates that even more, because people keep treating him as if he’ll fucking break.
It’s not polite conversation for dinner, but then again, Laurent isn’t eating; he’s just holding his cutlery watching Auguste at the opposite end of the table.
“In your bed.”
Auguste won’t tell him to stop until he can’t take it anymore, Laurent knows.
Sometimes, he steps out into the hallway and breathes until he feels like he doesn’t want to kill Laurent anymore, Laurent also knows; it’s viciously satisfying.
“I’m sorry.” It makes Laurent angrier. Laurent doesn’t want him to be sorry , Laurent wants him to be fucking angry . He doesn’t want to have to feel bad about this, too, after he’s done it, wants to stop feeling like there’s fire burning in his throat, wants someone to give him a fair fight if only to prove himself that only because he could never beat Uncle doesn’t mean he’s helpless, he wants to make Auguste feel as bad as he does because it’s not fucking fair.
Kashel also warned Auguste about Laurent being angry; he’d heard that, too. He doesn’t let anything happen in the apartment without him knowing about it, and maybe it’s an old habit, but it’s a useful one. Before, being uninformed of the smallest thing meant uneven ground against his uncle, even more of a disadvantage than he already had.
Here, it’s mostly useless; Auguste doesn’t really hide things from him, and he’s always been a terrible liar. Paschal tells him there’s nothing wrong with doing it, if it’s bringing him any comfort, and it is, so Laurent doesn’t stop; he’s set some boundaries for himself, mostly with Paschal’s help, but he has more pressing issues to deal with than eavesdropping.
Laurent grits his teeth and looks down at his dinner plate, trying to get some semblance of control over his feelings; he doesn’t want to hurt Auguste, he’ll regret it later, and he needs to control his anger; he’s been working on it, really, but he thinks no one notices; how would they? Auguste doesn’t hear Laurent’s every cruel and heartless thought. He hears what Laurent says, but he doesn’t know it’s not even a tenth of what he could say.
“I’m not hungry,” he says, standing and pushing his chair back with a loud screech; Auguste looks at him worriedly. He's always so fucking worried.
Laurent hates that, too.
“Are you sure?” he asks. “You didn’t eat breakfast, and you barely had lunch.”
Most common side effects in survivors: depression, eating disorders, anxiety, dissociative patterns, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.
Laurent had read the article Auguste was reading on his laptop; he thinks it should be nice, almost, but it’s only making him angrier. Everything is always making him angrier.
“I’m sure,” he says icily; he thinks he might throw up anything he eats now, with how nauseous he already is. “I’m going to my room.”
He doesn’t wait for a response; in his room, he buries his face in the pillow and fights the urge to scream, tears burning in his eyes, throat scorching. He can’t fucking think.
Auguste doesn’t bother him; usually, he leaves Laurent alone while he works through his anger, and Laurent doesn’t know if he’s thankful or angrier for it. Partly, he’s glad Auguste isn’t around, because this way, Laurent doesn’t have to feel the guilt of looking at his brother, the shame of knowing he knows what’s happened to him. Another, smaller part of him, wants somebody to hold him.
Uncle used to hold him when he cried after Auguste left and wouldn’t take his calls.
Laurent barely makes it to the bathroom before he retches; he empties his stomach into the toilet, and, when he’s done, sits back, shaking against the cool wall.
The scissors are in the bathroom sink, and, on a whim, he grabs them.
*
Auguste washes dishes a lot lately; he’d needed to find something to do so he could not think about Laurent’s awful words, about Kashel’s and Paschal’s warnings, about their uncle rotting in a prison cell for three years.
Three years, for what he did to Laurent.
Auguste is seriously considering hiring a hit man when he gets out.
It’s nearly two in the morning, and Laurent went to his room hours ago, but Auguste can’t bring himself to go to his room to sleep; he’s paranoid of not being there if Laurent needs him, now. He’s already failed him so many times.
He rubs at his eyes tiredly, and is considering just lying in bed, even if he’ll be awake, when he hears Laurent’s door open; he freezes, half-hoping Laurent’s going to talk to him, half-hoping he’s going to the fridge for a meal.
Laurent comes into the living room quietly, wearing pajamas; he’s holding big scissors in his hand, and his hair – previously long, up to his shoulder blades – is choppy and short; he has a small cut on his ear.
“Can you even it out for me?” Laurent doesn’t look at him while he says it, but he sounds kinder than he has all week. Auguste used to cut his hair all the time when they were younger, because they’d both thought it fun, and he’d gotten good at it.
He hasn’t done it in a really long time.
He nods wordlessly, afraid of upsetting Laurent, and takes the scissors from him. Laurent takes a seat in a chair, and Auguste pretends not to notice the tense set of his shoulders, the way his fists are clenched in his lap.
He begins to cut Laurent’s hair quietly.
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What Goes Bump in the Night - 12
PAIRING: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader WARNINGS: a/b/o dynamics, Victorian social dynamics, allusions to non-consent and dubious consent, dominance/submission, slow burn with eventual smut, suspense/horror/gore themes.
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TWO YEARS LATER...
Yours and Sam’s relationship continues. The brothers work hard, sometimes leaving for weeks at a time as they go on hunting trips with their colleagues. Per Sam’s preferences, you spend your time reading and researching for them, which gives them considerably more time to focus on whatever case is at hand.
On your second summer at the Winchester house, Sam takes you overseas to England for a much-deserved holiday. You spend the first day of the trip being sick in your private room onboard and finally venture out on the second to gaze out at the open sea. When you return, Sam promptly jumps back into the life, only giving you a couple of days to readjust to living at home before requesting your aid.
One cold night in August, you’re woken by the sounds of an infant crying in the distance. Maternal instincts quickly take over, and you slip from the bed, runing from the room even as Sam warns you to stay back.
You follow the cries to the front door and let Sam work the heavy bolts back. It’s cold outside, and you shudder when a gust of cold wind washes over you. The cries are much louder now, and you peer through the darkness to see a basket on the stoop, piled high with blankets.
“What the hell?” Sam steps out and carefully picks the basket up, cradling it in his arms as he walks back inside and lets you close the door. Once you’ve thrown the bolts home, you’re at Sam’s side, eager to peer into its depths.
There’s a pup nestled inside the blankets, wrapped snugly in a few thin layers that have done little to keep the chill out. The wailing hasn’t ceased, and Sam hears the sound of his brother’s bedroom door slamming shut.
“What is that?” Dean asks loudly as he takes the steps two at a time. He’s upset at having been woken so late, and Sam places a hand on his chest, stopping him from coming closer.
“It’s a baby,” you murmur, quickly unwrapping the blankets and checking the infant for injuries. He’s unharmed, if a little bit thin, and you swaddle him in one blanket and gently cradle him against your chest. He’s cold, his ears, nose, and fingers especially.
“There’s a note,” Sam says, pulling a thin piece of paper from the unraveled blankets. He skims over it, eyes narrowing before he starts to read aloud.
“Dear sirs, this is my son, Jack. He was born on May eighteenth, in the year of our Lord 1890. I am very sick and I am not strong enough to care for him. Your home is the only place I could think of where he would be truly safe for the time being. Sincerely yours, K. Kline.”
Sam sets the paper back inside the basket and peers down at the baby. His cries have petered out into soft, whimpering coos, and you’re carefully wiping the tears off his reddened cheeks.
“He’s still cold,” you murmur, “we need to feed him.”
“With what?” Dean asks gruffly.
“We have milk in the pantry, correct?” You watch his nostrils flare and turn instead towards your Alpha. “Sam…”
With a grumble, Dean stalks away, heading back to his room. The sound of the door slamming again echoes all the way to the living room, and Sam lets out a deep sigh.
“Sam,” you try again, “please?”
He swallows thickly and watches the baby root against your chest, searching for a nipple to latch onto. “Take him upstairs,” he says softly, “I’ll get the milk.”
You take the stairs carefully one at a time, trying not to jostle the baby too much. When you’re safely back in your bedroom, you slide back underneath the covers, slowly maneuvering Jack so that he’s cradled in one arm. You grip both of his hands in one of yours, trying to warm his chubby fingers. He’s barely three months old, and you have no idea how long he’d been out in the cold before his cries had finally woken you.
Sam comes back several minutes later, an old bottle half filled with warm milk in one hand. Jack’s begun to whimper again, his frustration evident as he tries in vain to search for food on a foreign body.
“It’s from when Dean and I were little,” he murmurs when you give him an inquisitive look. “I sterilized it and the nipple’s a little stiff, but it should be okay for tonight.” He slips into bed beside you and watches you offer the bottle. Jack greedily accepts it, cooing lowly as the warm milk fills his belly. “I don’t understand why anyone would consider leaving their child with us,” he says. “We’re known through the city for being scientists who study inhuman things, not caregivers.”
“Maybe she knew I’d take it?” you supply. “At least he’s out of the cold. Any longer out there…” shaking your head, you lean down to nuzzle his soft blonde hair.
“Where’s he going to sleep?” Sam asks.
“Right here.” You pat the mattress next to you. “He can sleep between us, we’ll keep him nice and warm.”
Sam’s jaw tenses, but he gives in. He’s suppressed his Alpha instincts for a long time, especially with his denial of wanting children. Now, seeing you holding and nursing a baby sparks a warmth in his chest that he can’t stop from spreading. For a brief second, he wonders if this is how his father had felt when he’d seen Mary holding each of their newborn sons for the first time.
“Just for tonight,” he says, trying to remain firm. The last thing either of you need is to bond with the infant, and as an Omega you’re already on your way there. “Tomorrow, we’ll have to let him sleep elsewhere.”
Satisfied, you allow Jack to finish the rest of his bottle and pat his back until he burps. You smile and nuzzle his cheek as you wipe the milky spittle from his chin, and Sam lets you tuck him in beside you before he turns out the light and lies down as well. One of Jack’s pudgy fists nudges his chest, and the baby gives a nervous whimper as he’s shrouded in darkness.
“There, now,” you coo before Sam can do anything. “It’s okay, Jack, you’re safe.”
It takes Sam a long time to fall asleep. When he does finally drift off, he’s torn between two final options. Convincing you to take Jack to an orphanage is going to be a long shot, and keeping him isn’t preferable either. Having a child in the house has never been a good idea, at least in his mind.
We’ll see what happens in the morning, he thinks to himself.
***
You wake up to the sound of Jack’s mewling cries. Sam’s already out of bed and getting dressed, and he barely casts you an eye as you sit up, gathering the squirming baby to your chest to calm him.
“Good morning,” you offer him a small smile. “Did you sleep well?”
He grunts a reply and tucks his shirt into the waistband of his pants. “I’m going to make a run into town,” he says shortly. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“What for?” You ask, sliding out of bed with Jack still cradled in your arms.
“We have nothing to care for a baby,” he says, “even if it’s temporary.”
He grabs his coat and gives you a short kiss before turning and leaving the room. He’s upset, and you can practically feel the tension mount when he leaves the room without fully closing the door. You wait for the creak and slam of the front door before looking down at the baby.
“You need a bath and a change, don’t you?” you coo, immediately overtaken by maternal instinct. “Come on, then, let’s give you a nice bath and then we’ll get you some breakfast.”
You’ve never bathed an infant before, but you slowly get the hang of it. It’s easier to simply draw a bath for yourself and bring Jack in, holding him firmly as you pour warm water over his body. He protests loudly when you wash his hair, and immediately calms when you allow him to float his body in the water, held up in your arms. His little arms and legs pump reflexively in the water, and you watch him play for a few minutes before getting out and carrying him into the bedroom. There aren’t any clothes for you to change him into, so you settle for swaddling him in one of the softer blankets he’d been delivered in and make a nest of four pillows to lay him in while he sleeps.
Dean’s in the kitchen making breakfast. He eyes you suspiciously as you walk in, but you pay him no mind. You learned to ignore Dean’s attitude a long time ago.
“Sam was upset,” he says gruffly. “Bringing that baby here was a bad idea.”
“Desperate mothers do desperate things,” you reply simply, gingerly dismantling the bottle and setting it in the sink. “She probably didn’t want her baby to get sick.”
“Could’ve just taken it to an orphanage, that’s what they’re there for.”
“And what would they do with him?” You rinse the inside and refuse to look at him as he butters a slice of toast. “They give children away to abusive parents or send them straight into the workforce.”
Dean grumbles around a mouthful of bread. “Just don’t keep it.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snap back. “I understand that Sam is less than happy about having a child around, but he is my Alpha and I will discuss this with him as I see fit.”
Dean relents with a quiet growl. “Where is it, anyway?”
“Asleep in our bed upstairs,” you answer simply as you pour boiling water over the glass and set it on the rack to dry. “I bathed him and let him rest. I was just going to make him a little bit of milk for breakfast.”
You finish sterilizing the bottle and prepare another small serving of warm milk before heading upstairs. Jack’s awake and wiggling around in his blanket, and he immediately takes the rubber nipple in his gums. He finishes the bottle in only a few minutes, after which you burp him again and snuggle back underneath the covers.
Sam returns after another hour. He’s carrying a burlap bag in one hand, and you cast him an anxious glance as he sets it on the foot of the bed.
“Please don't be upset,” you beg quietly, “I know you don’t want children, but I want to have him a little while longer—”
“I’m not upset.” Sam heaves a sigh and glances at the tuft of blonde hair visible between your breasts. “I just… you know how I feel about wanting children.”
You watch him start to unpack his purchases and hesitate briefly before speaking. “You’ve never explained why.”
Sam freezes for a beat. His eyes close, and he turns slowly to sit on the edge of the bed. “You know that I wasn’t born out of my mother’s will,” he says, “I’ve always been afraid that if I create a child, I’ll become my father, or pass his… his afflictions onto them. I don’t have the time for them, anyway, or the patience.”
“Jack isn’t yours,” you try to reason.
“He’s barely been here twelve hours,” Sam says sharply. “I understand that children have been on your mind lately, but… Y/N, we can’t keep him.”
You clutch Jack tighter. “Just a little longer,” you whisper, “please, let me just… what if he goes to someone else and he gets hurt or grows up abused?”
“We’ll find him a place where that won’t happen.”
You try to hide the tears in your eyes as you cast your gaze down at the sleeping baby. “I don’t want to let him go.”
Sam’s chest aches when he sees an errant tear stream down your cheek, and he reaches over to wipe it away. “Don’t cry,” he murmurs, “I know you want him, I really do, but we can’t.”
You pull your face away from his touch and turn away, slowly lying down on your side and tucking Jack in against you. Sam bites the inside of his cheek and stands up, slowly unpacking the rest of the supplies before muttering something about making something to eat, heading downstairs and leaving you alone.
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Today a perfect day; John Deacon x reader
*Author’s note*
Okay all so this fic is for a very important day because today is our beoved Disco Deacy’s birthday today. Whatever he’s doing I just hope he’s spending his special day with his family in the comforts of his own home and not dealing with the nosy a-holes that have the nerve to call themselves ‘fans’. So Happy Birthday John Richard Deacon born Aug. 19th, 1951.
This can be read as either the real Johnny D or Joe Mazzello!John Deacon. Not really any warnings except for SWEET-TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF AND SOME SWEARING, Also sickness (nothing serious just common cold or flu).
Taglist:
@psychosupernatural
@plethora-of-things
@ixchel-9275
@waddles03
@platawnic
@geek-and-proud
@queendeakyy
@coolcxt
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August 19th, 1973. The most important day of the year to me. I woke up an hour before dawn, the usual time when Deacy would usually be up to spoil me with breakfast in bed as he normally does but today the roles are gonna be reversed, cause today is his birthday.
And I was going to be damned sure that this was going to be the best birthday he’s ever had. As carefully as I could, I got out of our shared bed. I saw him stir in his sleep so I quickly put my pillow underneath his arm so he wouldn’t wake up and he immediately nuzzled into my pillow moaning tiredly.
God he was so adorable my Deacy. I tucked some of the strands of his hair behind his ear so that it was out of his face and just admired him for about another minute before I tip-toed out of the room and into the kitchen.
I was down in the kitchen preparing him a special birthday omelet and of course his favorite Cheese on toast. As I was prepping breakfast the phone rang and I quickly answered it and whispered.
“Hello?”
‘Good morning Mrs. Deacon.’ I rolled my eyes and smiled.
“Morning Fred. I’m surprised you’re up this early.”
‘Well for our Deacy I’m willing to be up as early as I need to be. So, any juicy morning stories to share?’
“Why must your mind always be in the gutter you rotter? I swear you’re as bad as Rog.”
‘Ohh don’t pretend you two don’t get down and do the deed first thing in the morning.’ I groaned as Freddie laughed cheekily on the other end.
“First of all he’s still sleeping, probably exhausted from the tour you all just got back from the other day. And second I’m not Mrs. Deacon.”
‘Yet.’ I rolled my eyes and said.
“So did you get the room reserved for the party?”
‘Yes my darling, Roger and I picked out all the decorations, Brian sent the invitations and Mary’s agreed to help you prepare the food.’
“Excellent.” I let out a sneeze and Freddie said.
‘God bless you my darling.’
“Thanks.” I then let out another sneeze and then another before he said.
‘Goodness gracious darling, you’re sneezing up a storm. You alright?’
“I’m fine just….dashing some pepper on Deacy’s omelet and, guess some got in my nose.” Only thing was that was a lie.
‘Well stop putting too much pepper on it. You know how Deacy is around you if you even make what even resembles a cough.’ Oh boy do I.
While I do love that boy to death, sometimes he is such a mother hen around me. If I even run a slight fever, he puts me in lockdown up in my room or the couch and won’t let me leave the flat for a week.
“Okay I’ll meet you guys later for lunch. 12 o’clock at the same restaurant where you guys met Reid.”
‘Will do darling, see you then.’
“Bye Fred.”
‘Bye darling.’ I hung up the phone and went back to making the final preparations to my boyfriend of three years breakfast.
Once everything was prepared and I made him a glass of his favorite juice along with a birthday mimosa. I set the table and then I headed back to the bedroom. I slowly opened the door back up and saw Deacy still fast asleep on the bed, this time he was lying on his stomach.
I quietly walked up to him and once again tucked the strand of hair away from his face and I whispered.
“John. John Deacon~” he moaned tiredly. “Happy birthday,” I softly sung out.
“To you.” I heard him tiredly moan. I softly giggled.
“It’s your birthday, birthday boy.” He slowly opened his eyes and soon I was staring down at those beautiful blue/green eyes of his. He smiled tiredly up at me and moaned as he stretched himself out.
“Morning love.”
“Good morning birthday boy.” I cooed. He sighed tiredly and rolled onto his back exposing his shirtless upper body to me.
“Do I get my birthday kisses?” I hummed and leaned toward him pressing my forehead against his and poked his nose with mine.
“I don’t know…..”
“Hey you can’t deny the birthday boy his kisses.” He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back down onto the bed so that I was now on my back and he was hovering over me. I cupped the side of his face and I said.
“So how many kisses is it this year?”
“22.” I smiled and leaned up and gave him his first birthday kiss. I gave him pecks, passionate, or soft kisses mostly on his lips or around his face. When I gave him his last one I said.
“Okay, that’s 22.”
“No it wasn’t.” he teased.
“Yes it was.” I laughed.
“No it wasn’t.” he grinned.
“Yes it was you goober.”
“Alright well can’t I at least have an extra one?” I debated as he continued, “C’mon it’s my birthday.”
“Come here.” I said as I wrapped my hand around his neck and we kissed each other one last time. I felt him kiss down my neck and I smiled softly. “Deacy, wait. I made you breakfast.”
“It can wait.”
“No it can’t.”
“Yes it can, because I’ve got my real meal right here.” I squeaked as I felt him gently bite my earlobe. I giggled and pulled him away and said.
“Deacy c’mon. I slaved away, I even woke up a whole hour early than you normally do just to secretly prepare you breakfast.” He leaned his forehead against my shoulder and I heard him mutter.
“Okay. Only because my cranky love woke up than she normally does.” He pecked my shoulder before finally getting up out of bed and he pulled me up.
I wrapped my arms around him as we walked out of the bedroom and we walked towards the kitchen, and the second he saw the breakfast arrangement, he was amazed.
“Ohh love you—you did all this?”
“Well you do it all the time on mine, figured I’d do the same thing for yours.”
“Thank you darling.”
“Anytime, now dig in.” we sat down at the table and he immediately went for the cheese on toast first. As he continued on eating, I couldn’t help but feel a slight pounding in my head, maybe I was getting a slight headache or maybe I was hungry myself. I stood up and headed over for the kitchen.
“You okay love?”
“Yeah just…needed some water is all.” I took a water bottle out from the fridge and took a sip from it. After swallowing it down, I felt Deacy’s arms wrap around me and he turned me around to face him. He cupped my face before moving his right hand over my forehead.
“Hmm, you feel a bit warm love.”
“Well what do you expect from someone who was near a hit stove oven for over an hour preparing an omelet.” I said. “Don’t worry love I’m fine.”
“You sure?” he asked, his eyes filled with nothing but concern. I nodded and pecked his cheek and told him of the lunch plans the guys and I had set up for him. So for the rest of the morning till then we—well you know.
When noon came around, we met the guys at the restaurant and that’s when Roger proclaimed.
“And there’s the man of the hour now! Bout time the two of you showed up.”
“They probably got a little tied up with something else.” Freddie teased which made the two of us blush before Brian spoke out.
“Alright enough you two dirty boys. Stop teasing them. We’re glad you both could make it, and happy birthday Deacy.”
“Thank you Brian.” Said Deacy. We took a seat at our table outside and of course with Queen being as popular as they are with 2 hit albums out, of course we had to deal with the occasional fan coming up wanting an autograph or even casual chit-chat, inserting themselves into our conversations.
Which honestly irritated me, especially when some would try to flirt with my Deacy, even when our hands were physically out and hold each other, some of the girls still tried to weasel themselves in, that was until I told them to back off in my best passive-aggressive tone but giving them death-threats with my eyes.
Deacy being the caring soul that he is, rubbed my back telling me to calm down and to just ignore them because he knew who his real girlfriend is, and he wouldn’t let anyone come between us.
Once lunch was over and everyone except Deacy (at my decree) paid for the food, I suddenly felt this dizziness come over me as I stood up.
“(Y/n)!” Deacy cried out alarmed. The lads gathered around me and Brian asked me.
“(Y/n) are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah I’m—I’m fine.” I let out a slight cough and rog stated.
“You look a bit flustered (n/n).”
“He is right darling.” Freddie added.
“Love are you sure you’re okay? Are you getting sick?”
“No! No I’m….I’m probably just a little hot from this heat. Probably stood up too fast, maybe didn’t get enough water in my system.”
“Here take a sip of some of mine.” Deacy said as he held up his remaining half cup of water. I took a sip of it through the straw and felt a bit better. “Better?”
“Mm-hmm, thanks love.” I nodded and smiled at him lovingly.
“You sure you’re okay?” asked Brian.
“Yes, now c’mon let’s get out of here before we cause an even bigger scene than we already have.” As we walked out of the restaurant Deacy kept close by me still looking worriedly. “I’m fine Deacy, really.” He nodded and kissed my temple while wrapping his arm around me.
As the afternoon went on, the boys were now distracting Deacy with a guys day out while Mary and I were at the warehouse preparing the dishes in the makeshift kitchen on the other side of the main ballroom.
“And you’re sure he doesn’t suspect a thing?” I asked.
“Not a single clue.” She assured me. I suddenly felt a pounding headache come up on me.
Goddamnit please don’t tell me I’m getting sick. I mean the sneezing, the dizziness were one thing but now this pounding headache that’s been happening for the past hour now and still won’t go away. I can’t be sick! Not on Deacy’s special day!
“(Y/n) are you okay?”
“Yes! God why does everyone keep asking me that!?” she looked at me shocked. I calmed down and said, “I’m sorry Mary, I—I didn’t mean…..”
“It’s okay (y/n). Just let me check something,” she took off the rubber gloves and placed her hand to my forehead and she said. “You do feel warm. Maybe you should go home and rest up.”
“No Mary I cannot be sick! This is Deacy’s special day, I want to ensure that this birthday is special to him. After this….he’ll be having big blow-out birthdays once Queen really hits the big time and the record company’s just gonna do it just to do it. This could be my last chance of having a well-planned, thoughtful birthday by me and everyone that really loves and appreciates Deacy.”
“But is it worth getting sick over? I’m sure Deacy would understand. He’d rather see you healthy than drag yourself into the ground making yourself sicker.”
“Alright, if it makes everyone feel better. I’ll—try to step out of the way once the party kicks up and find a place to rest.”
“Good, now let me remake your half of the food, you can stand and watch and coach me through it since it is your mum’s recipe but don’t come near it. We don’t need anyone else getting sick.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” I muttered.
“Uhh Ms. (l/n) I’m here from Francois’ bakery here to deliver the cake you had ordered.” A young man around his late teens came in.
“Yes, yes bring it on in here.” He came in with the box and set it down on the table and I went up to open the box, only to reveal that this wasn’t the cake I ordered.
The cake I had for John was a dark chocolate cake with the design of a bass guitar and the inscription of HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHNNY D. on it. This cake was vanilla and flower designs on it, hell it didn’t even have John’s name on it. It didn’t have anything on it.
“This isn’t the cake I ordered.” I said to him.
“But you had signed off on it when you placed in the order.”
“Well this still isn’t the cake I ordered. I ordered a dark chocolate, do you hear me dark. Chocolate cake. Does this look anything like chocolate to you!?”
“Look Miss I’m sorry I’m just the delivery boy I-I-I-I was just told to take this cake to this address.”
“Well take it back because this isn’t the goddamn cake I ordered! In fact I’m calling the bakery right now, this is bullshit!”
“(Y/n), wait just calm down…..”
“No Mary this wasn’t the cake I had placed. If I pay 32.50 for a cake then they better send me the right one!” I went over to the phone located in the back and dialed the bakery.
But of course the line was busy at this point so I growled and slammed my head into the wall as I let out a series of coughs and collapsed to my knees.
“(Y/n)?” oh god please don’t let that be him. I looked up to see John kneeling beside me and I groaned.
“Why did you come here?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened after lunch. I had to see if you were really okay.”
“We’re sorry love but he refused to move if we didn’t take him here.” I heard Freddie proclaim from the ‘drive through’ window.
“And it would seem that my suspicions of you being sick are confirmed. Especially after getting Mary’s diagnoses. Love why didn’t you tell me you weren’t feeling well?” I whined out a groan and said.
“Because I wanted this birthday to be special for you. Before the glam of fame takes that away from me. Soon you’ll be going to parties and bigger parties will be made for you. I—I wanted to give you some normalcy before that, and this could be my last chance.” He pulled me close to his chest and said.
“Let’s get you home and into bed.” Finally without arguments I nodded and Deacy helped me standup and we left the warehouse and drove home.
I was currently in bed with the blankets up all the way up to my chin as I now began to feel the fever now. A wet washcloth was across my forehead and it was then Deacy came in with some warm soup in his hands.
“Here we are love.”
“Thanks baby.” I croaked out. He then began feeding me the soup and I couldn’t help but moan softly.
“Best birthday ever.” He plainly said as he dipped the spoon back into the bowl. I took another sip of it and said.
“But—we didn’t even have the party? And now you’re taking care of me, when I should be the one taking care of you.”
“Love I never needed a party to celebrate my birthday. I don’t need hundreds of strangers coming up to me telling me happy birthday. And I’ve already spent seven months with those stubborn mules on the road, so the best birthday I could ever spend is here with you. Having a night in.”
I smiled softly and after a few more sips of soul, he sat that aside on the counter on his side before laying down close to me. He didn’t take his eyes off of me as he stroked my chin with his thumb.
“I love you.” He whispered.
“I love you too Deacy. Sorry you have to take care of a sick girl on your birthday.”
“Don’t worry about it. So long as that sick girl’s you, I don’t care how I spend it. Like I said, all I need is you by my side. And it’s already a good birthday.” He then kissed my lips.
“No! You’re not allowed to kiss me while I’m sick.”
“Oh I’m not, aren’t I? When did this start?”
“It’s always been that way.”
“Well I intend on breaking that rule and kissing you infinity times ten.” I groaned as he chuckled and got under the blanket with me.
“You know you’ll just end up getting sick, right?”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ve got my personal doctor to help me feel better.” He lovingly pecked my nose and rested my head over his heart. “Besides this can count as my birthday present.”
“You are such a dork John Deacon.”
“But I’m your dork.” He grinned, his eyes wrinkling up in that adorable way. I nuzzled into his exposed chest as I felt him run his fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp. “That’s it love, go to sleep. I’ll be here to take care of you when you wake up.” I nodded tiredly and closed my eyes to Deacy’s gently stroking, the sound of his heartbeat and even hear him softly hum my favorite Beatles song, the very song he and I first slow-danced to on our first date our last year of high school.
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12 Months
Alpha Peter x Omega Tony Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. The opinions here expressed are not my own but are a way of moving the story forwards. Please, remember this is a work of fiction about fiction characters. English is not my first language. ................................................................
The first 12 months of a child are the most critical ones. Tony and Peter have to learn so much.
..........................................................................................
June:
Morgan Happy Stark-Parker was born in the afternoon of June 3th, to parents Anthony Stark(O) and Peter B. Parker(A). She was 4 pounds and 8 ounces, had a patch of dark hair in her head and when she opened her eyes for the first time, she had Peter’s eyes. Her first name was unisex and they both found it cute and “Happy’ was a clear tribute to their dear friend. May was in the room with them when the baby came and helped giving the first bath and feeding for the first time. Peter could only cry during the first day and Tony could only glance wondering at the baby.
Every Avenger got to hold the baby and give congratulations. Nobody will ever admit it, but Fury’s eyes got all watery holding the new Stark baby. Because of Pepper’s mad skills with the media they didn’t had any troubles getting out of the maternity, but they knew they had to be open about this. The baby got so much snuggles and kisses (Tony had shaved to not hurt the child) and Peter and Tony holder her close to their hearts, making more skin-to-skin contact.
When Morgan was three days old, they took a candid, black and white picture of her tiny hands holding Tony’s pinky finger and they post it. Peter writes “a love I’ve never known before” under the photo and Tony caption is a simple heart. Those pictures reach one million likes in about 2 days and the media went crazy. The baby’s first sun bath is at the Penthouse terrace and when she’s 2 weeks old they go out in public for the first time and walk around Central Park with her.
May went with them to the Penthouse during the first week, she helped giving the first bath and helped them figuring out how to bottle feed her, burping and recognizing her cries. But as soon as she left, Peter and Tony discovered something interesting: Morgan was colic baby. She would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, and then she would shrink herself into a tiny ball and just be miserable until they could calm her down. She slept thru the day and was wide awake for most of the night. That really made them rethink the whole ‘family’ thing. The first time it happened, they got so scared that they rushed to the ER in search of help.
Morgan spender almost 7 diapers a day and was bottle-fed at least ten times. Tony and Peter slept between her naps (she slept almost 17 hours a day, but she woke up a lot during those times) and they barely got out of the house. They were lucky Peter was in vacation and that Tony decided to work only in September. And when June 19th, Father's Day came, they cried holding their daughter. It was difficult, not impossible
July:
Tony and Peter learned how to take care of the colic’s and slowly learned the baby’s sleep schedule. They mastered the art of holding her just right and of calming her. Peter would sing ‘In the wee small hours’ for her when she was awake in the early mornings. Tony finally went back to doing exercises, he couldn’t go back to being Iron Man just yet, but he could start losing the baby weight. It was weird, looking at his flaccid belly and realizing it would never be as it was before and that practically every being could be hotter than him right now in his Alpha’s eyes. Well, he considered himself lucky enough just for the fact he didn’t had the baby blues.
The Fourth of July was a memorable night, Tony always though that that one Fourth of July with his family was the most beautiful that he would see, until he spends that Fourth of July with his Alpha and newborn Morgan (she was one month old on the fourth of July). Tony and Peter spend that day with the Avengers and Ted and MJ, doing a barbecue in the Terrace.
They were worried that Morgan would get scarred of the fireworks noise, because she was napping when the dawn came, but that was the thing, Morgan was such a fuzzy child that when she slept, it was for real. And when the beautiful fireworks started to blown high in the sky, Morgan just opened those big brown eyes (oh yes, Morgan's eyes ware brown just like her fathers) and silently watched the sky light up. And Tony and Peter went back to their home smiling for each other.
August:
August came in as did the heat and they finally managed to leave the house more frequently. Tony’s Instagram feed was all about work, but they had dailies requests of interviews or photoshoots by magazines and newspapers. They said no to all of them, of course. Tony was dedicating himself everyday in the gym and kept a calorie track, he also didn’t drink alcohol for almost a year now. Peter was so proud that he made special breakfast and delivered it in Tony’s bed. The Spider-Man works now were in a good schedule and it was all light work. Peter seemed to be creating a separation anxiety, he went out alone and came back super-fast.
In middle August they decided to take a little vacation, their first vacation since ever, really. So, Pepper managed to book a whole trip with maximum security, in a way that nobody even knew hey went there at all. They spend 8 days in a beautiful cottage near the beaches in Carmel-by-the-sea, California. The whole place is faraway of the chaotic, energetic buzz of New York, and it’s a place where they can walk holding hands and with the stroller in front of them.
They buy groceries and cook in the beautiful kitchen, all while watching Morgan. She was 2 months old; she started the tummy time and she had lost all the baby fat and her tiny face was staring to get a more lady-like shape. She was much too young to enjoy the beautiful views, or the amazing food but her colic’s were starting to fade, and she was becoming less grumpy, which made going out with her more enjoyable. They did, however, took tons and tons of pictures of her, and videos and tiny frames of her near the ocean, specially when she gave her very first smile to Tony when he placed her near the ocean.
When they were back and safe at the Penthouse (Tony and Peter had tan marks all over), Peter quietly posted the picture he most loved yet: a selfie Tony took of them, with his arms around Peter while Morgan was in the kangaroo around his torso. The ocean was behind them and they had the biggest smiles ever. He wrote “Loving this newer life right now”.
The picture gets the insane number of 13 million likes in 3 days.
September
September was a very smooth month, Morgan was getting a consistent around her body, so she would take some toys and shake them, and she would smile so freaking much that she got herself the nickname "Smiles" from Steve and Natasha. She was introduced to good music by her parents, Tony would sing "Metallica" for her as a lullaby and Peter would sing Elvis Presley songs to her. At mornings, they would have a mix of 50-60 good rock'n roll as breakfast.
Tony went back to work, nothing heavy, just some tinkering in the lab and some adjust in the armor. Peter had to go back to MIT in the beginning of September and he once again struggled to be separated from Morgan and Tony. Since around Tony’s 8th month of pregnancy, they didn’t had sex yet. Peter kept saying he was fine with that, but Tony could smell Peter’s arouse sometimes in the morning and he was angry at himself for not functioning the way he was supposed to work. He couldn’t help it, his self-steam was so low, he didn’t believe that he would ever come back to his original shape.
Tony confessed this to Peter, about his body’s insecurity and about how nervous he was about MIT( Peter would be surrounded by beautiful, smart and young omegas, most likely they saw the Instagram photos and Peter would be a cute, young and family Alpha, just waiting to be taken). Peter made sure to assure Tony that he was more than okay how they were and when that didn’t work, Peter threw Tony into the mattress and fucked the doubts out of him. Their first time after the baby wasn’t sweet like on the early of their relationship, it was rough, it was almost 5 months of pent up stress and sexual frustration being translated into pulls and pushes, moans and groans and a spectacular orgasm for the both.
(Don’t you worry, May was babysitting)
October In mid October, the wind was starting to get cold, so the heating system had to be availed and changed. Happy invited them to have Morgan first Tricks’ Treat with them. So, them put a Strawberry costume and had dinner at the Jones. By the evening, they went to some houses and asked for candies for Morgan, but every house knows that Tony and Peter would eat every single of the sweets. Morgan is a healthy child, Dr. Scott says when she turns 4 months old, her sight, hearing and reflex are OK by the doctor and she has grown into a good weight and high. Tony posted a picture of a Strawberry costume and some candy at his worktable and the photo is a total hit.
Peter had MIT works now, so he didn’t go as Spider-Man as much. Morgan was such a happy child now; colic’s were almost forgotten. She gave her first laugh while she was in her highchair in Tony’s lab. DUM-E dropped a screwdriver in one plate, and she found it oddly amusing. She’s going to have a wicked sense of humor, that one Clint says once and Tony couldn’t agree more.
November
November 3th came and Morgan made 5 months, it was a beautiful and lazy Sunday. She already slept long periods at night, almost 6 hours at once (than she woke up and just needed attention). This week she learned a new trick: to sit all by herself. She also has been rolling around like a drunk person for almost two months now. Her gummy smile was everything to them.
On Sundays like this, Tony took care of Morgan for Peter’s studying time and during the week, Peter studied during Morgan's nap time. So Tony was sitting there, playing with Morgan while she was in their bed, making bubbling sounds for her, clapping hands for her and putting her over her tummy and well, being a child himself. When Tony heard something falling over in the lab and turned around and yelled: ‘Are you alright Peter?’
In this little window of time, Morgan rolled throw the bed and fell hard on the ground. Her piercing scream was heard from the entire Penthouse and Tony’s heartbeat went crazy. He lifted his daughter and tried to check for any injuries while also crying with her. Peter (he dropped a circuit table) heard it and reached them already so scared, he planned to take the baby to the hospital but in reality, Tony was sited on the ground, crying with Morgan, and Peter ended up hugging them until they calmed down. (They take her to the doctor eventually, but she wasn’t harmed).
December
Peter’s December vacation comes earlier than what they thought. There had clothes enough for themselves and had outfits for Morgan until she's one year old, but she didn't had outfits for a winter, so after they decided where to go for winter, they took some money and went to buy some clothes. Peter wanted to buy durable outfits, who could keep her warm for the entire winter, but Tony wanted cute coats, pink boots and a red hoodie who said "MERRY CHRISTMAS" so logically they fight for every single piece of clothes.
The one who seemed to be enjoying this was Morgan. At 6 months old she had made two discovers; one is that teeth coming out were bad and they should stay where they were, two is that was that her voice was beautiful. Morgan didn't talk but she bubbles all the time. She could have deep and thoughtful conversations with whoever was closer to her, in her bubbling language. She also recognizes her own name and all of hers nicknames and she also signed "yes" or "no" with her head.
Peter and Tony didn't know if she knew what those gests meant or if she learned that her parents would laugh at those gests. But well, Tony asked if Morgan wanted the red hoodie over the boring gray sweater that Peter wanted, and Morgan signed "yes" screaming loud her option. She also signed "yes" for four choices from Peter and two for Tony. They came back to their home with full begs and Tony bought a medium size Christmas Tree and put it on their TV room. They travelled to Norway to spend Christmas, they rented a big house and all the Avengers came. They passed the Christmas day with a beautiful meal, Christmas songs and all that jazz, and Santa Claus brought toys to all the children. They passed the New Year’s skiing and the kids (Clint’s kids) played with Morgan and was a perfect night.
Tony and Peter made sweet, sweet love on Christmas Eve and they smelled happy through the whole month. They posted a series of pictures of them near the Christmas tree and wrote “Merry Christmas and a happy New Year” under. It was all in a dream.
January
January was Morgan’s 7th month. Now she had 4 perfect teeth (which they had to brush everyday) and she just now learned how to crawl. Her favorite toy was a tiny Iron Man doll (Rhodes gave it to her). Tony and Peter had to stimulate her motor skills every day. She could also sleep 8 hours straight and make most of the sounds and her favorite food was smashed carrots and apple juice. Her dark hair had grown enough to make pig-tales on her, and her face was getting a more consistent shave day by day.
They came back from Norway in January 3th and the NY winter weather hadn’t been great. When Peter had to go back to school and suddenly Iron Man was needed, they reached a disagreement. Happy watched Morgan for that day, but they decided that maybe was time to find a daycare for Morgan. They took the top pick from their pre-made list and applied to put Morgan in there. The daycare was really exclusive, but they opened a place for Tony Stark’s daughter. So, in the end of January, Morgan went to her first day away from he’s parents.
Peter was so emotional in that day, he gave Morgan to the teacher; Miss Perry, but couldn't seem to stop cry all the way to MIT. Tony didn't cry but he did stay in the Daycare a little while after Peter went to away, just to be sure that Morgan was adapting. And Morgan was........ loving the Daycare!
While Peter cried holding her and Tony was all worried about "distance", Morgan looked at them the entire time with a face that said "Are you guys for real? ". She seemed to love the fact of more kids in the Daycare and she liked of all the teachers; Miss Perry, Miss Ashley and Miss Lettie. Of course, that she cried at noon, because an older child got her big plushie from her. At seven months, she could crow and roll around places and she could recognize usual voices and her own name but one thing that made she gave the "What? "face is that he’s teachers called her "baby" not "Morgan" as it should have been said.
At the end of the day, Tony picked her up and him and Peter made hamburgers for dinner. Peter was supper excited about his course, he now had new friends. Tony got so happy for him, and Morgan was so tired of the Daycare that she easily went to a deep sleep. And after that the Stark-Parkers felled into an easy routine.
February
At 8 months old, Morgan already loved her big plushie and could be a little possessive. She also learned that flus were bad. Actually, all the Stark-Parkers learned that flu's were bad. But when she got sick, they were desperate, thought Morgan's Doctor, Dr. Scott say that it was okay to have flu's at that age. So, he gave some light medicine and send very home again. The media finally seemed to catch them for the first time, paparazzi were following Peter one evening and Morgan looked really into the camera. That picture, the first picture of the Stark-Parker baby’s face was covered in at least 3 different tabloids. All these times they didn’t show Morgan’s face, too scared of what the media could do.
It was a real bummer, but they kept going with life. Almost every Omega that came across Peter seemed to want him, even when he was out with Morgan or in a date night with Tony, they would still give him his numbers. It just served for them to fight and to fuck like two teenagers.
March
Morgan was the smartest child in the planet! At least it was what Peter thought when, at 9 months old, Morgan said her first word. Since Morgan started to mumble some sounds, Peter and Tony had a competition of if Morgan would say "mommy" or "daddy" first.
But then, in a Sunday morning, Tony was making pancakes and some sweets for Peter and Morgan and they were listening "Jailhouse Rock" of Elvis Presley. Morgan was moving herself, dancing in the Highchair and making her usual mess with pancakes and apple juice and suddenly, while Peter was changing Presley music, the long word "Jail" was screamed by Morgan. That was enough to send them to the moon. After that they would have the camera always on, and Morgan learn that "Jail" was a big answer. She was also trying to stand alone.
April
Morgan gave her first steps in late April. Tony and Peter were sitting in some puffs on the balcony, with the records playing Tears and Fears, and Morgan was laying on Tony's stomach, with her belly for the air. She could sing words like "Jail, Juice, Ice" but she didn't say "Momma or Daddy" yet. Suddenly, rolled over off Tony's belly and started to crawl in Peter's direction. Peter was recording them with their camera, and he captures the exact moment when Morgan got up and gave her first steps towards her. They barely couldn't hold the shouts of joy. Tony felt his eyes watering. Just months before, the thought of having a child scared him so much and now here he was, watching his tiny daughter giving her first steps into the world. He watched as his Alpha jumped and shouted of joy while holding their baby and thought to himself that everything seemed right if it led him to this moment.
June
Tony and Peter started to plan a vacation travel to a lake in Arkansas, with Ned and MJ. On the morning of June 3th, Tony woke before Peter. He started quiet, staring at his beauty, he kissed his lips and got up real quietly. He enters in the yellow-lilac-green room, the morning sunshine going throw the window, lightning the crib. And there Morgan slept deep and in peace, she was so big now, her skin was white and soft, she had a brown hair and her eyes were a light shade of brown, not like Tony's eyes but pretty close.
Tony stayed for minutes there, just looking at her, when she first woke up, she rubbed her eyes sleepily and opened the biggest smile Tony have ever saw in her face.
"Good morning Morgan" said an amazed Tony, she looked at him and said a trainless "Morning Daddy". And just like that, Tony was crying. He couldn't believe that 1 year and 8 months before, he was alone, chasing monsters and running away from his problems. Now here he was.
Working 9 to 5, coming home to his Alpha, kid and a home. Morgan was looking at him like she couldn't get why he was crying, but she standup in the crib and lift her arms, asking to be picked up. He picks her and kissed her cheek and hugged her very tightly. Suck it, Peter! She got Morgan first steps but Tony got "Daddy" first.
"Happy birthday Morgan Happy Stark-Parker “said Tony, but only the word "birthday" got her attention.
'Cake? “she said, looking at him and clapping her hands. Birthday was cake for her, and Tony clapped his hands too, agreeing. She holds his face, pointing with her middle finger to "pay attention" to her and said "juice”, which meant breakfast first. Tony took her to their small kitchen and put her in the highchair and one bottle from the fridge. Tony was dressed in grey sweatpants and shirtless, showing off his flat tummy.
Tony wasn’t back at his original shape, but he was close now. Tony made some pancakes and made formula for Morgan, all listening to Asia. Morgan was making a mess with the pancakes. Peter came to the kitchen already dressed in a day outfit and kissed Morgan's entire face, so happy. After breakfast, Tony got dressed in light clothes and went to the city to make a bunch of things and Peter stayed to prepare the things.
Tony picked a pink-and-lilac medium cake, soda, yellow and purple balloons and red solo cups. Peter dressed Morgan in a pale green dress, with a white tiara holding her brown hair and dolls shoes. The house was filled with balloons, was cleaned and the barbecue was ready to be made. Clint and Laura brought their kids, they also brought two dresses, pink and purple and a pair of shoes. Ned, MJ, the Avengers, May and Happy (they were a thing now), even Fury and Hill came to give congratulations to baby Morgan.
The afternoon was passed with laughter, meat, soda, beer and kids running around.
When all of them were gone in the evening of Sunday, Morgan was where’d off, after eating so much cake and a good warm bath, she was so sleepy. She passes out around 8 p.m. After all of this, Tony and Peter set on green puffs, looking at their trashed apartment, drinking hot beers and making out like two teenagers.
Before they went to bed they passed at the nursery, to check her one last time. They got caught up watching her sleep peacefully, Tony reaches out and put her little hair out of her face so they could watch her better. Peter hugged Tony from behind, resting his chicks into his shoulder.
- We should have another one- Peter said quietly. Tony looks at him surprised.
- I think she’s happy being an only child.
- I think she would love to be a big sister- Peter faces Tony seriously- Lets have another one.
Tony couldn’t deny Peter anything, really.
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You Want A What? (Trevante Rhodes x Reader)
Pairing: Dad!Trevante Rhodes x Black!Reader
Warnings: None, lil Angst if you squint
A/N: So I have no clue why I even wrote this but here we go. It’s a continuation of my previous fic Cake which you can read Here. Hope y’all enjoy it, let me know what y’all think!!
Trevante:
Malik:
Diane:
~*~
“Momma, are you sterile?” Your son, Malik asked, at the breakfast table. It was a beautiful Saturday morning and the three of you (your son, your husband, and yourself) were sitting at the dinner table currently eating breakfast as a family for the first time all week due to you all having conflicting schedules.
“Sksksksksks aaaaaaahhh,” Your husband, Trevante, burst into a fit of giggles, sinking down in his chair and clutching his side.
“Lik, you always keep it interesting, I’ll give you that,” he said fist bumping his son. You didn’t share his amusement.
“Keep laughing it up Chuckles and see what happens,” you said rolling your eyes as he continued to laugh at your empty threat.
“Honey, why would you ask me that? Where did you get that from?” You asked turning to your son seriously.
“We learned about it in Sex Ed. They also said statistically African American and Hispanic communities are more likely to have two or more children during their lifetime if given the opportunity plus all my friends have siblings. Look at Diane, her parents just had a baby-“
“Slow down Gregor Mendel, you think just because your girlfriends got a new baby brother then I’m obviously sterile,”
“Well... yeah...”
“Then how did you get here?” You knew you’d got him there.
“I could be adopted...”
“Ha! Not looking like that you not! Face it, lil man, you look just like your pops. Except for that line up maybe. You got ya Mama’s hairline, son, nothing I can do about that,” Tre laughed ruffling Malik’s hair.
“Yeah he also got your big ass head, which I had to push out! Don’t believe me I can show you the video-
“NO!” Malik and Tre called out in unison. No one wanted to see the birthing video. It was not a pretty sight.
“What I thought. Malik, why you suddenly so cursious about this? Somebody tell you that you were adopted? I bet it was yo dumbass uncle, he always-“
“No it wasn’t Uncle Jaime, I just.... thought it’d be nice you know.... to have a little brother. Diane has so much fun with hers, and she loves him, and her and her siblings are so close, and-“
“Since you love their family so much why don’t you let them adopt you, I can send them the legal papers today and have it finalized by Monday morning. You and Diane might have to break up though. Can’t date your sister, Lik, that’s white people mess,” you laughed but your son didn’t seem to share your amusement.
“El. Oh. El.” Your son deadpanned.
“Why now? You do realize if you did have a sibling now, there’d be a 14 year age difference between you two.”
“15 years actually babe, his birthdays in August, that’s less than 9 months away.” You chimed in with your husband.
“Okay, that’s fine with me.” Malik said finishing his pancakes.
“They’ll be a lot of crying. Dirty diapers. Less attention. You’ve been an only child your whole life, you ready to give that up?”
“Yep.” You and your husband looked at each other, quickly realizing he was serious about this.
“Okay well I think that’s enough baby talk for breakfast. Malik go get dressed before you’re late to Soccer practice,” you said picking up your and his finished plates and taking them to the sink.
“Tre you done?” You asked.
“Yeah, thanks.” He said handing you his plate. You could tell by the look in his eyes, he was still thinking about the prior conversation.
Twenty minutes later and your husband was gone to drop off your son at Soccer practice. The two of you had a routine that whoever cooked breakfast, the other one had to drop him off and pick him up from Soccer practice and today it was Tre’s turn at the latter.
You were currently in your study, going over the evidence the DA’s office had supplied for your latest case but your mind was on anything but. You and Tre had never really talked about more kids. As soon as you’d had Malik you went straight back to work for your law firm, and Tre, being a book editor and writer, was able to mostly work from home allowing him to pick up most of the baby rearing slack. The two of you loved Malik to pieces and didn’t feel the need to have another because you both were too busy pouring love into him.
Knock, knock
“Hey, you uh, you busy?” Tre said peaking his head through your study door.
“Nah not really. Can’t concentrate anyway.” You said taking off your readers and massaging your eye.
“You thinking about what I’m thinking about?” Tre sighed as he sank into one of the plush chairs in your study.
“If what you’re thinking about was our son enlisting our reproductive organs in his scheme for a sibling this morning.... then yes.”
“God, why’d you have to word it like that?Makes it sound so...”
“Technical?”
“Yep,”
“Well that’s how I’ve been trying to approach this... don’t wanna get too attached to the idea y’know.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because Tre... look at us. We’re past that stage. Past dirty diapers and kindergarten and... and...”
“Being parents?”
“We’re already parents.”
“You know what I mean. I love Malik but the boy’s mature for his age. Always has been. And he’s got his wits about him. We never really had to go through it with him like most kids.” Tre sighed.
“I know, he’s a great kid. We really hit the jackpot with him, why try to make lightening strike twice?” You said rubbing your temples.
“So you don’t want more kids?”
“Never said that.”
“Then what do you want?”
“What do YOU want? You’ve been pretty stoic about this whole thing.” You countered.
“I want us to be honest with each other for once. We’ve haven’t talked about it since... you know....” You did know but you didn’t want to talk about it.
It had happened when Malik was six years old. You and Tre were finally beginning to get into the groove of parenthood when you’d started missing your period. You felt sick constantly and the likeliness of the symptoms to your first pregnancy were uncanny.
You took the test and it was positive so naturally, you and Tre began to prepare. You were in the midst of one of your biggest cases to that date and wanted the first ultrasound to work for both you and Tre’s schedule all while balancing a second grader as well.
You were three months pregnant and due for your first ultrasound but meetings for your case and Tre’s own workload with a new book deal kept causing the two of you to reschedule. And reschedule. And reschedule. And before you knew it, you were five months pregnant but your belly hadn’t expanded barely an inch. You knew something wasn’t right.
On a haphazard will you went to the doctor without him. Turns our you weren’t pregnant. You never were. But you were sick. You had intestinal problems that were causing the disease to manifest to the rest of your body, causing your fatigue, vomiting, loss of period, everything. You were upset. You cried yourself all the way from the doctors office to your home and then there as well. When Tre finally got home with Malik, you took it out on him. Called him everything you could think of. Screamed, yelled, threw things. Finally when he realized there was no reasoning with you, he took Malik and left you.
You thought it’d be temporary, that he would eventually come home. He didn’t. A couple of days turned into a week and you eventually caught him dropping Malik off at school. You demanded the two of you talk.
“Where have you been staying with my son?!” You asked hastily after Malik was safely in the classroom though it wasn’t without a fight. He clung to you the second he saw you and started to cry, forcing you to stop your potential he’ll storm you’d had planned for your so-called husband and comfort your son.
“We’re not doing this here.” Tre said roughly, walking back to his Silverado. You’d thought he was walking away from you and the conversation when he held the passenger door open, waiting for you to get in. You got in silently.
The two of you rode in silence until he pulled up to the nearest coffee shop he saw. You sat down thinking the two of you were about to start but he headed straight for the front, and began to order. Only when he finally came back with his large black coffee extra expresso and your large (Y/F/D) were you finally able to get a word through to him.
“Where have you and Malik been Tre?”
“My sister’s.”
“Why haven’t you answered my calls? I am his mother.” You demanded.
“You think I don’t know that? You don’t think I haven’t been at my wits end the last few days trying to calm Malik down because he thought his mom had lost his mind. You’re an amazing mother but I won’t let anyone traumatize my son like that.” Tre said heavily and you knew you’d seriously messed up.
“I’m.... sorry. I was wrong. I never should have brought that around Malik. Or treated you li-
“This isn’t about me,”
“Yes it is. I love you Tre. And what I did to you wasn’t love. That’s no way to treat a stranger on the street, let alone my husband. And for that I apologize.” You reached over the table to hold his hand and you could literally feel how tense he was.
His jaw was set and he kept his eyes trained on your hand encasing his own. You felt your heart sink that maybe this really was it for you two until he finally gripped your hand back in acceptance.
“So are you going to finally tell me what’s really wrong with you? Since you’re not...,” Tre trailed off.
“Pregnant?”
“Yeah...”
“My lower intestines are failing and it’s wrecking havoc on the rest of my body. I have to have surgery to correct it or I won’t be here much longer.” You said solemnly.
“Shouldn’t you be in a hospital?”
“They can’t legally detain me there.”
“Damn it Y/N, this isn’t about legality for once, it’s about your health! When is your surgery?”
“.... In four days...” Tre stood up at this, nearly knocking the contents of the table to the floor.
“Why didn’t you tell me? All those texts and voicemails and you never once mentioned this?!” He walked out of the cafe and you followed behind him. You watched him from a distance not sure what he might do. You could see tears streaming down his face.
You wrapped your arms around his middle and hugged him while he buried his face into your hair and cried. You didn’t notice when the tears started to fall from your eyes as well, soaking his shirt.
“Tre...”
“Yeah?”
“I don’t wanna be the black people crying in the Starbucks parking lot,” you quipped causing him to chuckles.
“C’mon, lets go home,” Tre sniffled, opening the door for you. You got in and waiting while he got in on his side then the two of you pulled off.
“Aye, Y/N,”
“Hmmm?”
“Don’t you ever keep something like this from me again. If you’re sick, you gotta tell me. We in this together, right?” Tre took your left hand in his right and intertwined them, kissing the back of your hand.
“Right.”
“I don’t want another,” you said quietly, coming out of your thoughts.
“Are you sure, baby?”
“Yeah I’m sure. I love Malik to death. And you as well. You two are enough for me.” You smiled as Tre walked around behind you, kissing your neck.
“Great because I’ve got the perfect way to get Malik off this whole sibling kick,” Tre mumbled into your pulse.
“Hmmm? And how’s that?”
“We get him a Pitbull,”
“ABSOLUTELY NOT!”
~*~
So I’m tagging my lol Trevante taglist, one day I’ll make an official one for each person i wrote for but for now here goes
Taglist: @queennanayaa @chaneajoyyy @wawakanda-btch @killmongerthiskoochie @theunsweetenedtruth @blackgirloneshots @blmforeal @erikkillmongerstan @jozigrrl @quietstorm-73 @sailorsenshi420 @wakandamama @mxearth @chefjessypooh @macfizzle @chasingsunlight @dameshaemonique @rubiesandravens @raysunshine78 @melaninmarvel @melanisticroyalty @softnani @vibranium-soul @bartierbakarimobisson @teheeboo @lifelover4u @youreadthatright @doublesidedscoobysnacks @blackpinup22 @darkangelchronicles @thehomierobbstark @cinki-the-black-goddess
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We’ll Carry On - Chapter Forty Eight
We’ll Carry On Tag
General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia
Chapter-Specific Warnings: Discussion of Terminal Illness
August 14th, 2004
Remy was standing at the altar, staring at the man who he fully intended to spend the rest of his life with. Emile had gone for the traditional black tuxedo, while Remy had decided to do the inverse, with white tux and black shirt. They were both grinning like mad, and Remy thought there would never be a day that he was happier. He could barely register the words of the priest, if he were being completely honest. All he could focus on was Emile, staring at him with all the love that his fiance-husband, he reminded himself-could muster...love for him. And he knew he was getting weepy.
As they said their vows, Remy’s voice started to get choked up, and by the end of them, when the priest declared them husbands, he was outright sobbing. Emile laughed, kindly, and pulled him in for a tender kiss. Remy couldn’t think of a better day he could possibly have.
May 5th, 2020
That morning, Emile got up early. Remy knew that he had to, but he wished he didn’t. “Mm. Honey?” he murmured, cracking his eyes open in the dim morning light.
“Just have to go to the doctor’s, remember?” Emile asked, leaning down for a kiss.
“I know,” Remy said, reaching up to meet Emile halfway. “I was asking about the morning kiss.”
Emile chuckled. “I could never forget our morning kiss, love. I’m getting dressed, then using the car to head to the doctor’s, all right? And I’ll be home by tonight, and the bump-whatever it is-will be gone.”
Remy nodded, sitting up and stretching. Emile got dressed and was out the door quickly, and Remy felt worry pang in his chest. Two weeks ago, Emile had noticed that he had some sort of bump over his right nipple. This was the quickest date the doctors could give him to get it removed and examined. Remy hoped it was nothing. He had promised to be there for Emile in sickness and in health, ‘til death do they part, but he had sincerely hoped the sickness wouldn’t happen like this, and that death was not an option this early.
As Remy got dressed and went downstairs, he could hear Logan’s alarm and some grumbling as he struggled to turn it off. Remy made a quick breakfast, enough for all the boys, and then headed back upstairs to wake up Patton, Virgil, and Dee. “Hey, boys, I know it’s early, but we’re gonna have to all carpool at once today,” Remy murmured to Patton and Virgil.
Once they were up, Remy went to Dee’s room. He only had to touch Dee’s shoulder lightly and the boy shot up in bed, blinking owlishly at the clock on his nightstand, then at Remy accusingly. “I know, Dee, it’s early. But we have to all leave early today. I’m sorry.”
“Why?” Dee asked with a scowl.
“Because Dad can’t drive you to school today, it’s just me,” Remy said. “Now please just go downstairs for breakfast? Make this easy for me?”
The scowl melted into confusion. “Why can’t Dad drive?”
“It’s a long story, Dee, come on, let’s get breakfast,” Remy coaxed.
But Remy clearly underestimated Dee’s curiosity even when groggy and grumpy, because he signed, “I wanna hear the story.”
“Look, I can tell all of you after breakfast, all right?” Remy bargained. “But you need to eat soon.”
Dee huffed and got out of bed, and Remy followed him downstairs to find some very confused sons conversing with each other on why Patton and Virgil had to be up. When Remy entered the room, he was immediately bombarded with questions.
“Where’s Dad?”
“Why did you wake up Patton and Virgil early?”
“Why do we all have to go to school together?”
“Why can’t Dad drive us?”
“Why are you so worried?”
“Is Dad okay?”
“Where is Dad?”
“He’s not hurt, right?”
Remy held up a hand and forced a smile on his face, despite his worry. “Dad’s fine. He had to leave early today to talk to a doctor before he went to his clients, so he can’t drive you to school later like usual.”
Logan narrowed his eyes and Remy knew Logan had seen right through the ruse. “What kind of doctor? Is this someone’s GP? Or a psychiatrist? Or something else?”
“It’s...uh...” Remy wracked his brain for an excuse.
But it was no use. The second he hesitated, Roman jumped on him next. “Why did you hesitate? It’s an easy question! And Dad tells you everything!”
“Boys, please, I...” Remy trailed off. His eyes were stinging with salt from tears. “Please, just finish breakfast, I can explain in a minute.”
“Dad’s not seeing a doctor, is he?” Virgil asked.
“He is, he is seeing a doctor,” Remy insisted.
“Then why aren’t you saying where he is? Why couldn’t it wait?” Patton asked.
Remy felt some kind of anger inside him flare up and he exclaimed, “It has waited! He’s waited two weeks for this appointment which should have been made the day he needed it! He—”
“He what?” Logan asked. “Why is this an appointment?”
Remy tried to keep his breathing even, but he was having a really hard time with it. He couldn’t yell, he couldn’t yell, yelling would make the kids scared. But if he cried, that would just make matters worse. He had to stay calm, stay calm, stay calm, calm calm calm calm... “Because it’s not consulting over a patient. He’s the patient. He gets sick sometimes, it happens.”
“But if he’s sick, why did he have to wait two weeks? Most doctors will get you in within a day or two,” Patton said.
Remy’s breathing was strained. He leaned against the wall and covered his eyes with his free arm. “Boys, please...” he all but begged. “Please, we can explain later. When Dad’s back.”
“You said you’d explain after breakfast,” Dee accused softly.
“Is Dad okay?” Roman pressed.
Remy felt like his heart was breaking and he let his arm drop as he shouted, “I don’t know!”
Dee yipped and scurried around the table to Logan, Vanellope growled to show her displeasure at the loud noise, Patton and Virgil were eyeing him warily, and Roman sat there in shock. Only Logan was brave enough to speak, and he did so with a glare. “Don’t yell,” he said. “Too many of us have bad experience with yelling.”
Remy felt his temper flare up more and he growled. “I need five,” he ground out, stalking to his room and forcefully shutting the door. He punched the mattress, he kicked the bed frame, he screamed into two pillows at once in an attempt to muffle the sound. This wasn’t fair! Emile was a good person, he didn’t deserve to get sick like this! If he was, Remy wasn’t sure what he would do. He couldn’t raise these boys on his own, but he couldn’t send them away, either. And no one could replace Emile. In his heart or the boys’.
When he had replaced the pillows and his breath was heaving in his chest, and his tears were falling freely, Logan knocked on the door and called, “Ami, we have to leave for school. Everyone has everything ready.”
Remy took a deep breath and strode over to the door, opening it, and walked past Logan without saying anything. He shrugged on his jacket, grabbed his sunglasses, and silently herded everyone out to the car.
When they were halfway to Logan’s highschool, Logan stared out the passenger side window and asked, “What kind of doctor?”
Remy’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “Surgeon. And oncologist.”
Logan looked over and paled. He might have muttered a curse under his breath in another language, Remy wasn’t sure. “You’re...you’re serious?”
Remy nodded. “They’re doing a biopsy today. He wanted to save his clients’ time, so he took the earliest appointment they had open today, which was the first free day they had in two weeks.”
“What’s an oncologist?” Patton asked timidly from the backseat.
“It’s...” Roman swallowed. “A cancer doctor. They see if someone has cancer or not.”
“Dad has cancer?!” Virgil asked.
“We don’t know,” Remy said.
“That’s not helpful!” Virgil snapped.
“Don’t you think I know that?!” Remy exclaimed. “Why do you think I’m so upset! I don’t want this either!”
“Stop yelling,” Logan said. “Both of you. It gets nothing done.”
As they pulled up to Logan’s high school, Logan hugged Remy and whispered in his ear. “I’m sorry. Text me if you find out the news before school’s out?”
“Yeah,” Remy agreed. “And I apologize for yelling.”
“You’re stressed, it happens,” Logan said. “Just try not to do it again.”
Remy nodded and the trip to drop off the rest of the boys was done in silence, after an apology for shouting. Remy went to Sleep Easy, not because he had to pick up anyone’s shift, but because he couldn’t sit around the house trying to do finances knowing that his husband was with the doctors, trying to figure out what was going on.
At around noon, he got a text and his heart leaped into his chest when he saw it was from Emile. They don’t know yet. They’re fast-tracking the tests to make up for the wait for the appointment. Should know tonight or tomorrow.
Remy slipped his phone back into his pocket, trying to ignore the shaking in his hands. This left him with an incredibly bad feeling. Doctors didn’t fast-track tests for nothing.
The sign that he wasn’t holding it together as much as he thought was when his own employees insisted that he go home. They weren’t taking no for an answer, either. He reluctantly went home, to find Emile already there, car parked at the curb in its usual spot. He pulled the van into the driveway and got out of it as Emile came outside the house. “Logan texted me,” Emile said by way of greeting.
“Of course he did,” Remy sighed. “Emile—”
Emile crushed him in a hug and he said, “Sweetheart, please, in the future, let me know when you’re worried about me? He said you were worrying yourself sick this morning.”
Remy was surprised. “He said that?”
“Well, he said that you lost your temper a little, and you and I both know that only happens when you’re already overwhelmed. My tests being today led me to the conclusion that you were worried about me,” Emile said. “He also told me that you only lost your temper in front of them twice, and you were making the effort to remain calm, so I’m not mad at you. I will ask that you, obviously, work to avoid that in the future, but...” Remy was crying into Emile’s shoulder, and he was pretty sure that Emile could feel the tears soaking through his shirt, because he hugged Remy tighter and said, “C’mon, Rem. Inside. We can talk.”
And talk they did. A little about Remy’s behavior that morning, but mostly about how he was worried sick, about how this wasn’t fair, about how he didn’t know what he would do with the boys if Emile were sick.
“Hon, you’re acting like I’ve already gotten the diagnosis,” Emile said. “We don’t even know that, yet. All right? Deep breaths. One thing at a time.”
Remy nodded. Though admittedly the rest of the day passed in a blur. Emile picked the boys up, because he had taken the whole day off from his therapy practice once he realized he didn’t know how long the appointment might go. As the boys came in, Remy gave a personal apology to each of them. Logan nodded at his, Roman said he was already forgiven, Patton and Virgil said they had never gotten an apology before for this, so of course he was forgiven, and Dee silently hugged him tight, crying as hard as Remy had earlier.
The whole house froze when Emile’s cell phone rang. He picked it up calmly in the middle of making dinner, saying, “Hello?”
Remy dimly recognized the TV being turned down from the den, and one of the boys opening the door to the basement to listen. “You’re sure?” Emile asked, and Remy’s heart leapt into his throat. “Okay. Okay, thank you. Is there anything I need to do?...Okay, thank you.”
He hung up and looked around, noticing everyone looking at him for the first time. “Boys,” he said with a laugh. “It was a cyst. Benign. I’m not dying! Remain calm!”
Roman whooped and ran back into the basement and Patton and Virgil cheered. Remy crushed Emile in a hug which Emile gently returned. “Like I said, one thing at a time, honey. You didn’t have to worry about anything you were thinking through today.”
Remy choked on a laugh and held Emile close. “I love you,” he said. “I don’t say that often enough.”
Emile kissed him lightly. “I love you too. Now, let’s finish dinner.”
#we'll carry on#sanders sides fanfiction#remy sanders#emile picani#logan sanders#our creations#danger gays
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the tale
so.
we've been expecting a dan video for a while now, i've been very scared and curious as to what he was going to make it about after being away for so long. he did confirm he was going to upload in june so every night i was going to bed with anticipation because, because of timezones he'll usually upload early in the morning for me (3-6am).
so it's Friday morning. there's this weird alarm sound, like an octopus, and because i'm asleep, i'm really confused and thought it was my sister (found out later it was the army base that i live on lockdown alarm or something) so i woke up, then it stopped so hey I check my phone to see how long i have to sleep for.
the first thing I see is THE FUXKING TITLE 'basically i'm gay'. i do not comprehend it. then i check the time (6:10) i look at the notification again. daniel howell. my heart beats faster. my fingers are literally shaking. I'm delirious. 'what the fuck' i whisper over and over again to myself. scared to click, i go onto tumblr, it's oddly quiet. everyone must be watching it, because it hasn't been that long since he uploaded. still shaking, i click on the video and watch his face, he takes a deep breath, "hello internet".
then i watch it. I am shocked, still shaken, i cry when he explains how lonely he was, how that kid pushed him against a locker by the neck and slapped him. I cry when he tells us how he couldn't take it anymore and attempted suicide. then i sobbed when he said 'I'm glad I failed' i laughed when he did that argument thing 'its not adam and steve' and 'why can't we have straight pride' (🙄). then it finishes and before I have time to think and digest all that, taylor swift is doing a livestream on instagram and she's announcing the name of her album (lover) when it's coming out (August 23) her new single (you need to calm down) and music video (comes out tonight at 10 15pm). at this point i'm fucking bewildered and sososoososo happy and shit i need to go to school, then to a sleepover...
so i wont have time to think properly until Saturday afternoom, which is shit. I get to school. im venting to people. it hits me again that DAN ACTUALLY DID THAT WTF then i just. start crying. in school. omg. so i try to sit down on my suitcase (bear in mind that i lugged a suitcase, sleeping bag and pillow to school that day, that was hard work) then i fell off it. that was fun. I spend literally 5 seconds sobbing hysterically until i compose myself, wipe away my tears and stand up. I'mokayi.okayoimokayimokayimokayimokay (I WASN'T OKAY).
so i do school, remembering it all, needing to watch it again, feeling sososso proud and happy of dan. then taylor swift releases her song. and lo and behold its about fucking all the homophobic people and haters and trolls ("there is sunshine at the parade, but you would rather be in the dark age") and when i realized (at this point i'm waiting for the bus at the bus stop) i throw my phone down, walk around a pole, collapse to the ground and SOB. I love taylor so much i love dan so much wtf. I LITERALLY haven't felt so much emotions for a WHILE (at least, idk, months, even more)
anyways,no time to sit in a dark room and relax, time for a party. I end up getting literally 0 sleep, i didnt sleep once. it was SO bad. I was so tired i zoned out for a bit when it got to like 5am, it felt like I was dreaming and nothing was actually real. so, i've just had the most emotional day of my life plus no sleep. not. good. I text my mum to pick me up bc at this point i've had enough. then they said they were making waffles for breakfast and i was like to my mum 'dont worry about it its fine' so i endured. for the waffles (they were great btw).
finally i was home alone. I needed to get my life in order. I had a shower. I learnt the lyrics to taylor's song. I rewatched dan's video. i rewatched as many dan and phil videos as i could with this new perspective. I cried without judgement.
and now all is okay. i didn't even cover everything, i just had to get it out. thank you for listening. I needed to vent, if anyone read all this i'm surprised and also sorry.
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Home is Where the Heart Is Pt One
Here it is! The second installment of my college soulmate au! Like the first, this one will be pretty long, so buckle up! I actually had to split it into two parts because it got so long!
Thank you to @rubyredsparks and @words-bleed-on-my-tongue for betaing this!!
AO3
Soul Ink Masterlist
Summary: Thanksgiving break arrives and the boys go home for the week. Virgil faces a week alone with his parents, several hours away from the support of his soulmates. Will he be discovered, or make it through the break without his parents discovering his relationship?
Warnings: Physical Abuse, Toxic Parents, Abandonment, Disownment, Self-Hate, Angst, Food Mentions, Victim Blaming. I think I got them all, but as always, feel free to tell me if I missed any!
Words: Approximately 5k
Virgil’s parents were on their way to pick him up. He had packed the night before, remembering to pack enough hoodies for the week. It was Thanksgiving break. One whole week without his soulmates. Without writing to his soulmates. Hiding away his marks once more.
Virgil fidgeted in his seat and checked his phone for messages. He found nothing important, just a few notifications from Tumblr. Virgil glanced at Roman, who was working at his desk.
Virgil wasn’t sure what he would do. He’d had them for such a short time, but couldn’t bear the thought of going without them. He would be okay. He had to be okay. It was just a week, then he’d come back. He could still text them, still hear their voices over calls. The cold pit in Virgil’s stomach reminded him that it wasn’t the same. His parents couldn’t find out. Not about his soulmates.
“You okay, Verge?” Roman looked up from his papers, eyes concerned.
Virgil took a deep breath and nodded. He still hadn’t told them what it was like before he quit writing to them. They only knew bits and pieces, none of the bigger details. He tried, he really had, but he couldn’t. Virgil couldn’t expose that to them. If he did, they’d never let him go home to his parents. His soulmates would be right in their actions, but Virgil couldn’t just abandon his family.
“I’m just nervous,” Virgil admitted. “What if they find out?”
It would be horrible. Catastrophic.
Roman frowned, “You don’t have to go. You can come home with us.”
Virgil knew that, but he couldn’t make them take him in when they were going home to see their families. Their families who loved them, despite their multiple soulmates, and supported them. His soulmates deserved a peaceful break. They hadn’t visited home due to their heavy workloads. Virgil didn’t want them to spend their break hosting him. He’d be fine.
Selfish as it was, Virgil also didn’t want to meet their families. He knew he couldn’t face them yet. He had gotten lucky with Remy but doubted he would be with the rest of their families. Nothing guaranteed that their families would forgive him for what he had put his soulmates through.
“I’ll be okay,” Virgil promised. “I’ll call if I need help.”
Virgil wouldn’t. Guilt stirred in his stomach at the lie. He wasn’t going to make his soulmates drive all that way for him. That time was meant for their families, who hadn’t seen them since August. He got to see them daily, he could survive one week without them.
Roman smiled at Virgil, unaware of the lie. Roman got up from his desk and made his way over to Virgil’s. Sitting on Virgil’s desk, he reached out and caressed Virgil’s cheek.
“I’ll miss you,” Roman murmured.
Virgil’s cheeks flushed, “I’ll miss you too, Ro.”
Virgil’s phone rang and he checked the caller ID. His father was calling. He looked to Roman and stood from his chair. Virgil took a deep breath and answered the phone.
“Hello, Dad.”
“We’re almost there. Be ready for us, son.”
Virgil nodded, even though he knew his father couldn’t see.
“Of course. I’ll head down now.”
His father hung up without saying goodbye. Virgil wasn’t surprised. He slipped his phone into his pocket and grabbed his sweatshirt. He needed to wear it the entire time he was home. He stared at the dark fabric, remembering the years spent hiding behind it. As of late, he’d begun to go longer without it but still wore it often. Now, the sweatshirt was for comfort rather than hiding. Today would be the first in a while he wore it with the intentions of hiding.
“I’ll see you after break,” Virgil put on the jacket.
Virgil grabbed his bags and went out the door. As he walked out of the building to the parking lot, the dread in his stomach grew until it was all he could feel. He saw his father’s car and walked to it. He opened the back door and climbed in wordlessly.
His mother turned around in the passenger seat. She flashed him a smile and reached back to squeeze his hand.
“How’re your classes going so far, honey?” she asked.
“They’re good. A bit harder than high school, but I study a lot,” he replied.
His father snorted at that, “You should be studying all the time. Are you partying?”
“No, sir” Virgil answered.
“Have you made any friends?” his mother asked.
Virgil felt a bit overwhelmed by them grilling him. He knew what they were looking for; a sign that he’d messed up.
“A few. My roommate helped,” he answered.
He wasn’t going to mention dating anyone. He knew better than that. If they questioned his room situation, he could say he wears long sleeve shirts to bed. This was true until he started dating his soulmates and occasionally borrowing their clothes when it was too hot for long sleeves.
His parents shared a glance as they pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.
“Any incidences?” his mother asked.
She meant if anyone had seen the writing on his arms. He couldn’t tell the truth, as much as he hated lying. He just had to get through a week, nothing more.
“None.”
His parents smiled and his father looked at him through the rearview mirror. Virgil met the look and noticed the pleased gleam in his father’s eyes. Relief washed over him as he realized he fooled them. Maybe he could survive break without them finding out.
~
By Thanksgiving, he’d made it halfway through break without his parents finding out. He woke up in the morning and scribbled a morning greeting to his soulmates. He smiled at his arms as replies came. Virgil couldn’t help the happiness that bubbled within him. It’d been so long since he wrote to them from within his home.
Virgil shook his head and put on his sweatshirt. He couldn’t let his parents find out about his relationship with his soulmates. Wearing the sweatshirt was normal for him, they wouldn’t think anything of it. He put on a clean pair of jeans and went down the stairs to help his mother cook the family meal.
“Morning Virgil,” his mother greeted from the breakfast counter.
He rubbed his wrists, “Morning, Mom.”
“Are we going to have any problems today?” his father asked as he entered the room.
“No,” Virgil replied.
He felt his forearms tingling as the other three wrote. Virgil couldn’t believe he used to shut it out. Now the urge to look and reply gnawed at him.
“We haven’t checked in a while,” his father reminded him.
Virgil’s blood ran cold. He looked up at his father, doing his best to mask his fear. He needed to appear calm. He could talk them out of checking until he could wash away his marks, without harming himself. It would be alright.
Virgil cleared his throat, “I haven’t had an incident. I left that behind. It wasn’t natural.”
The words felt wrong coming out of his mouth. They weren’t true and didn’t sound remotely convincing to him, so he knew his parents wouldn’t buy it.
“You wrote to them.”
His mother sounded so disappointed. Virgil wrapped his arms around himself and faced his parents.
“Actually, I met them,” he confessed. “And they’re wonderful, not freakish.”
It felt good to tell them, no matter how much his mind screamed that it was bad. He felt lighter, despite the danger. He didn’t have to lie anymore. He was so tired of lying. He met his parents’ eyes and saw nothing but rage. He expected as much, but it stung.
His father stepped forward and stood before Virgil. Virgil knew what was coming, but it didn’t stop his shock as his father slapped him. Virgil cried out and stumbled back into the table.
“You go back. Today. Do not come home until you’ve moved past this.”
Virgil ran upstairs to get his bags, wasting no time. In his room, he shoved his things into his bags, forcing himself not to cry. He couldn’t afford to cry in front of them. It would get worse if he did. Once he was in his dorm, he would be safe to cry.
He slung his tech bag over his shoulder and picked up his duffle. With one last glance around, he exited the room and went out to the car. He loaded the trunk and got into the back. His father, already in the car, started the car and pulled out of the driveway. Neither spoke.
At the train station, Virgil’s father stayed in the car as Virgil got out and grabbed his bags. Virgil closed the trunk and stepped away from the car. His father took off without saying a word. Virgil hadn’t expected him too, despite the stinging in his chest.
It was official. He was on his own. He couldn’t go home.
Virgil rubbed his eyes on his sleeve as tears threatened to fall and picked up his duffle from the ground. He wasn’t going to cry. He had easily four hours of travel left, then he could cry. He just needed to hold it together long enough to get to the safety of his dorm.
Virgil looked at the train platform. It was empty, which wasn’t much of a surprise to him. It was Thanksgiving, so most people were home with their families, not that many people in his town used the trains. He took it as a blessing, he couldn’t deal with large groups right now.
“It’s okay . . .” Virgil mumbled to himself. “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
The pain and anxiety building in his chest told him otherwise. It wasn’t okay. He wasn’t okay.
He walked onto the platform and purchased a ticket from the teller machine. After fumbling with his card, he entered his pin and collected the ticket from the bottom of the machine. With a sigh, he shoved it into his wallet and walked over to a bench on the platform. He needed to check the schedule.
“Please let there be one . . .”
The purple haired boy took out his phone and looked up the schedule for the train. There was a train going to his school due to arrive in half an hour. Virgil sighed in relief. He wasn’t going to be stuck at the station all day. The sooner he got back to his dorm the better.
While he waited, Virgil scrolled through Tumblr and aimlessly reblogged posts. Most of his dash was aesthetic posts, so it didn’t matter if he paid much attention to the posts.
Virgil wanted nothing more than to curl up with Patton, snuggling into the shorter boy until he felt better. He wanted Roman to hold him until he didn’t think he’d break down crying. He wanted Logan to reassure him that things would work out, that although they were an oddity, they were natural, not wrong.
He couldn’t have those things though. His soulmates were home and they would never know he got kicked out. Virgil would figure out what to do. If he cut back on study time, he could get a job on campus. He already cut back on studying time to spend time with his soulmates . . . There wasn’t much he could do without it looking like he was trying to cut them out again.
Virgil turned off his phone and put it away, losing interest in Tumblr. Without his phone out, there was nothing to do but sit and wait for the train to come in. He stared in the direction the train would come from, praying that it would come soon.
~
Virgil stuffed his duffle into the overhead and took his seat. He clutched his backpack to his chest and curled around it. He wiped away tears angrily. Crying in public was not something Virgil was going to do. It didn’t matter that this car was empty other than him. He needed to hold it together.
The break wasn’t over, but he was already on his way back to campus. This was it. He messed up so badly his parents didn’t want to put up with him anymore. His father hadn’t even said goodbye!
Virgil couldn’t even last a week without writing his soulmates! Pathetic! No wonder his parents kicked him out!
Virgil curled around the bag tighter, trying to warm the cold pit in his stomach. His chest ached as the train rocked, reminding him of where he was. Virgil knew his parents were wrong for kicking him out, but he still felt like he deserved it.
How could he be such a horrible son?
They didn’t want him near his soulmates, yet he pursued a relationship with his soulmates regardless. He took a shaky breath and stared out the window of the train. His mind drifted to his soulmates as he watched the scenery fly by. They’d be so upset about what happened. Virgil couldn’t let them find out and blame themselves.
It was his fault. Not theirs. Not his parents.
“Sir, ticket please?”
Virgil snapped out of his thoughts and his face reddened from embarrassment. He hadn’t heard anyone enter the car. Had they been there the entire time? Watching and judging him for being such a freak. Virgil produced the ticket and gave it to the worker, who punched a hole through it and returned it.
Waiting until the worker left, Virgil returned to staring out the window. It was just another person who thought of him as a freak. And this time, his marks were nowhere in sight! Maybe it wasn’t the marks, but him, that was wrong. It had already been proven that Patton, Logan, and Roman were accepted and loved by their families for who they were. He wasn’t. The problem was him.
His stomach coiled at the realization. No wonder his parents kicked him out. He should be thankful they put up with him for so many years. They could have dumped him on the streets long before now. At least now, he had a place to turn to for another few weeks. When the semester ended . . .
Virgil didn’t know where he would turn.
His hand wandered to his cheek, which throbbed painfully. He flinched at the memory of his father hitting him. It wasn’t the first time, but it was the hardest.
Part of Virgil screamed for him to grab his phone and call his soulmates. His heart ached and all he wanted was for them to hold him and tell him he would be okay. Virgil resisted the urge and pulled his jacket’s hood up, shielding his face. He wanted to disappear. For everything to stop hurting so much.
Virgil wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but soon enough he was hearing the university’s name being called over the intercom. He snapped awake and grabbed his bags. They were approaching the school’s station and he needed to get off. He shook off the bad feeling in his stomach. It was a bit better than before he fell asleep, but just barely. He still wanted to curl up and cry. When he stood from his seat, his legs shook and he had to force himself to stand correctly.
Virgil was the only one to get off at his university’s station. A few kids got on, but Virgil tried to ignore that. He hiked up his duffle on his shoulder and started the walk back to his dorm. It was about a half a mile from the station to his dorm, not too bad. He had classes on campus farther away than this.
As he walked, he took out his phone and plugged in his headphones. Virgil didn’t trust himself to not cry unless he had something to take his mind off what happened. As he walked, he spotted a few other students walking around the campus, though not nearly as many as when classes were in session.
By the time he reached his building, his legs were tired. He hadn’t realized how heavy his duffle was until he had to walk around carrying it. He used his ID to unlock the door and stepped inside.
“Hey, Virgil! Back already?” his RA called out as he passed the RA office.
Virgil flinched at the greeting and turned around, “Yeah . . . I needed to study. Library’s open right, Valerie?”
The brunette nodded, “Yep!” Her eyes widened as she looked at his face, “Are you okay? Did something happen?”
Virgil raised his hand to his cheek, where his father smacked it. He flinched in pain as his fingers grazed across his skin. His father must have left a bruise. Virgil shook his head and adjusted his grip on his duffle.
“I’m okay,” Virgil assured.
Virgil wouldn’t tell her anything. He knew RAs had to report certain things and he couldn’t risk his soulmates finding out, especially since Valerie was friends with Patton. Valerie didn’t look convinced he was okay. She might report it or call Patton . . . Virgil had to think of something quick.
“Just some small trouble at the station, I’m okay,” he said. “I’m going to go unpack. See you around?”
With that, Virgil took off down the hall before Valerie could stop him. The farther away he got, the harder it was for him to hold back his tears. Virgil was tired. He ran up the stairs to his dorm and almost cried in relief when he got to his hallway. He walked down to the door with a Jack Skellington skull and a crown on the door, with Virgil and Roman’s names written on them respectively.
He unlocked the door and stepped in, before slamming the door shut.
In his room, he threw his bags and phone onto the floor and sat down on his bed. Virgil refused to call his soulmates. He was fine. He’d make it through the next few days without them. Virgil curled up in his bed and forced himself not to cry. His parents kicked him out on Thanksgiving! He couldn’t go home!
Virgil bit his lip to stop a wail from escaping, tears freely flowing now. His shoulders shook and moved one hand to cover his mouth. He could hear his phone going off, but refused to move to get it. From the Winnie the Pooh ringtone, he knew it was Patton and he couldn’t answer the phone crying. Patton would tell the others and they’d come instead of spending their vacation with their families.
The ringing stopped and he heard his phone ding. Patton left a voicemail. Virgil would listen later. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve and let out a long sigh. He wished he took Roman’s offer of going to his house for Thanksgiving break, but he wasn’t ready to face their families. The three forgave them, but nothing guaranteed their families would forgive him for abandoning their boys.
He wasn’t sure how long ago Patton called, but his phone went off again. This time, the tone was Mozart. Logan. Perhaps, they just wanted to wish him a good day? His home was four hours from the school and five from their hometown. They had no idea he was so close. Again, he didn’t answer.
No message was left, but immediately after Logan called, a Mary Poppins tone played on his phone. Roman. No one wrote yet. They knew he wouldn’t look at home.
Virgil covered his ears and ignored the sounds from his phone. He wasn’t going to ruin their day. He’d call them later and say he was tied up with his family. He could claim he was helping his mother with dinner. The thought of his mother made him start to cry again. He let out a sob and his barrier broke, unleashing sob after sob on Virgil.
~
By the time he’d cried himself dry, it was night time. He looked to Roman’s alarm clock to see it was ten at night. He’d cried all afternoon and most of the evening. He didn’t feel remotely hungry but knew he should eat something. Logan wouldn’t be happy to find out he’d skipped a meal.
Virgil looked to his bag and fished out his phone and wallet. He didn’t feel like cooking. Pizza would do if the shop near campus was open.
He opened his phone to order and saw the messages left by his three soulmates. They’d texted and called him multiple times. By now, they had to be worried out of their minds. Guilt gnawed at his stomach. He should call them soon.
He felt the familiar tingle on his right arm and lifted his sleeve to see writing from all three of his soulmates.
“You okay, Vee?” in light blue. Patton.
“Please answer,” red. Roman.
Dark blue, “Please inform us if you need help.” Logan.
Each followed by a heart in their respective colors. He grabbed a pen off his desk and scribbled a reply.
“I’m fine. I haven’t checked my phone all day. I’m sorry.”
It wasn’t a lie technically. He hadn’t checked his phone. He made it seem like everything was going okay when it wasn’t. That part was a lie, but they didn’t need to know.
He ordered pizza online and paid with his card. He sat down at his desk and started to go through the messages his soulmates left. He started with Patton’s voice mail.
“Hey, Virge! I wanted to make sure your day was going well! Mom and Ma made a cherry cobbler and are sending me back with one at the end of break! You’ll love it! Hope you’re having a good day! Call me when you can. Love you!”
Virgil smiled at Patton’s antics and moved on to the next message. He didn’t hear the calls that led to any of the other voicemails. Had he cried that hard?
His arm tingled and he looked down.
“I am glad to hear you are well, Love. Call us on my phone, in ten?” dark blue.
Virgil put a checkmark by the question. His phone rang and he went out for his pizza. He gave the driver their tip and went back inside. He sat down at his desk and put the pizza box on his desk.
When the time came to call, Virgil nervously dialed Logan’s number. It rang once before he answered. Virgil knew that couldn’t be a good sign.
“Salutations, Virgil. You’re on speaker.”
Patton and Roman chorused their own greetings. Virgil felt relief rush through him as he heard their voices.
“Hey, guys. How’re things over there?”
He opened his pizza box and grabbed a slice. He ate slowly as Patton recounted his day and told him about how excited his younger brother, Thomas, was that the three were home. Roman mentioned how his Uncle Emile ended up torching the turkey, forcing the Picani-Prince family to get take-out for dinner instead. From Roman’s amused tone, it wasn’t the first time. Logan informed Virgil he spent the day with his mother and his extended family. At his turn, his swallowed thickly.
“I had dinner with my parents. I think I’m heading back to campus tomorrow . . .”
“Why? What happened?” Patton asked.
“Nothing, Patty. They said I need to study and the library will be empty. Don’t worry,” he answered a bit too quickly. “They’ve always been like that.”
He knew he spoke too soon. The silence on the other end of the line didn’t help his nerves. It was too quiet. They knew something was up.
“Vee, where are you now?” Roman asked, voice level and calm, but Virgil knew Roman was upset. “Be honest. We won’t be mad.”
Virgil was silent, trying to even out his breathing. He set down the pizza in his hand and gripped his sleeves.
“A-at the dorm . . .”
“Oh Virgil,” Patton whimpered. “Do you want us to come to get you?”
Virgil shook his head, despite the knowledge his soulmates couldn’t see it, “No, I’m okay.”
If Virgil could tell how miserable he sounded, he doubted his soulmates missed it.
“We’ll be there in an hour,” Roman promised.
Virgil felt grateful, yet guilty. He ruined their vacation. Now they had to drive back to school to get him. All because he couldn’t hold himself together for one conversation. At the same time, they were willing to and didn’t want him to spend the rest of break alone.
“Thank you . . .”
Virgil returned to his pizza. He picked at it more than he ate, unable to force himself to eat. He barely noticed as the hour flew by and Roman opened their shared dorm. He only noticed their arrival when Patton slammed into him with a hug. He melted into the hug and allowed himself to cry.
“Shhhh, Love. It’s alright,” Patton hugged him tighter.
Roman and Logan joined the embrace moments later. Virgil lifted his arms and did his best to cling to all three. He rested his head on Patton’s shoulder and cried as his soulmates did their best to comfort him. Patton rubbed circles into his back and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Roman held onto them all while he quietly sang. Although Logan wasn’t the best with his emotions, he held Virgil and murmured reassurances to him. Virgil wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but no one moved until he’d calmed down.
“Baby, what happened to your face?” Roman asked.
Roman gently cupped Virgil’s cheek and examined it. Virgil didn’t speak. His stomach twisted in knots. He knew they’d figure it out.
“Virgil . . .” Patton mumbled.
Logan’s voice shook with rage, “They did it, didn’t they?”
Virgil let go of them and looked to the floor. He didn’t want to voice it. He felt dirty saying it. The other three still sat near him but gave him space. Virgil looked up at Logan and opened his mouth to speak. Instead of words, a sob forced its way out.
Logan reached forward and took Virgil into his arms. He held firm as his final soulmate broke down, once more in tears. Virgil couldn’t hold back anymore. He was so tired. Logan held him until he’d cried himself out.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Logan murmured. “Come home with us. You don’t deserve to stay here alone.”
As Logan comforted him, Patton slipped out of the room to fill Roman’s water filter. Patton returned and filled a cup from Roman’s drawer, before offering it to Virgil. Virgil accepted it with shaky hands. Patton placed his hand on Virgil’s and guided the cup to Virgil’s lips.
“You need to stay hydrated, baby,” Patton murmured. “We’ve got you.”
Virgil smiled behind the cup pressed to his lips. He drank the water and allowed Patton to pull the cup away.
“Thanks,” Virgil whispered.
Patton smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Virgil smiled back. He looked to Roman, his third soulmate sat quietly with a dark look in his eyes. Virgil’s smile faded and he tried to imagine what Roman was thinking.
Before Virgil could question it, Roman stood from his place and stretched. He grabbed his keys from his desk and looked to his soulmates.
“We should head back.”
They left the dorms shortly after Roman spoke. Roman carried Virgil’s bags and Patton brought the mostly uneaten pizza along, wanting Virgil to attempt to eat more. They drove to Roman’s house, where the trio had been spending the night. Virgil stared out the window, unable to force himself into their conversation.
Virgil realized that now he’d meet their families. He felt sick. He couldn’t do this. Not after today with his own family. He couldn’t take any more rejection. If their families hated him, he would lose his soulmates. He’d have no one. He’d have to beg his parents to take him back. And after that, spend a lifetime alone knowing his soulmates were better without him.
When they pulled into the driveway of Roman’s house, the lights of the house were still on. From what Virgil knew about Roman’s family, it consisted of his uncle and coffee-addict cousin, Remy. Virgil figured it was Remy who was still up. Virgil spotted a figure in the house’s window and guessed it was him. The older student was odd, but he didn’t seem to hate him so it might be okay. If Virgil was honest, Remy was the only reason he was here now.
Roman led him inside as the other two carried his stuff. Roman took him up the stairs, into a bedroom and sat him down on the bed. Virgil allowed Roman to wrap him up in blankets and settle down next to him. Virgil didn’t want to talk about what happened. It seemed to be understood as Logan and Patton climbed into bed with them and kissed their cheeks good night.
Patton snuggled into Virgil from his spot between Logan and Virgil.
“Love you, Vee,” Patton murmured.
“I love you too,” Virgil couldn’t stop the smile that grew on his face.
Virgil didn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words. He knew how his soulmates felt about him, but he liked hearing it. Virgil was still afraid of meeting their families and how that would change their relationship, though, the reassurance helped him forget. For now.
Roman yawned, “Are we showering our dark prince in affection?”
His words were slow, likely from how tired he was. Roman kissed Virgil’s bruised cheek and nestled his face into Virgil’s soft hair.
Logan reached across Patton to place a hand on Virgil’s shoulder.
“It is good to have you with us,” Logan told him.
“Thank you, Lo,” Virgil smiled at him.
No one slept right away. Virgil laid awake in Roman’s arms, trying to block out the day’s events. He met Logan’s eyes from where Logan laid on the edge of the bed. His soulmate’s eyes drooping as he fell asleep. Logan offered him a small smile before he drifted off.
#Virgil Sanders#Sanders Sides#Polyamsanders#soulmate au#college au#abuse tw#toxic parents tw#disownment tw#crying tw#food mentions#food tw#angst#self hate tw#victim blaming tw#since he sort of blames himself?#my fics#Soul Ink
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