#girl if i just print out my favorite pictures to get RID OF IT ALL….
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wewontbesleeping · 2 years ago
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one of my biggest adhd struggles is organizing my digital life. my phone is full of screenshots from 2014. I’m past the point I know how to deal with it
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actress4him · 1 year ago
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Whumptober 2023 - Day 9 - Obsession
Hey look, another piece for this series! Amazing!
This one doesn't really have any plot, but it takes place sometime after she gets back home from the hotel and before Oliver starts texting her all the time. Thank you to Nox for helping me brainstorm this idea!
Taglist: @justplainwhump , @whump-ventures
Masterlist
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No. 9: “Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days.” | Polaroid
Contains: referenced parental death, referenced broken ribs, grief
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There’s an album full of old photos buried in the recesses of her closet. It’s one of the only things she has left from her old life. She never had much in the way of mementos or sentimental items, anyway, and she got rid of almost everything that could tie Cady Graham to Cadence West when she moved. She’s never even shown the photos to Janaysia and Devin, some irrational fear that it might somehow put them in danger holding her back. 
But sometimes, on days like today when she needs comfort or catharsis or something else that she can’t quite name, she pulls out the album, locks the bedroom door, and sits cross-legged on the bed to look through it. 
Her dad was obsessed with this Polaroid camera he found in his parents’ attic when she was a kid. Film was expensive, so there aren’t the copious amounts of pictures that most people take today, but there’s at least one from every birthday, Christmas, and other special occasions, and a few everyday moments scattered in between. On the bottom, white portion of every photo, he’d scribbled the date and a short description in his near-illegible handwriting. 
‘Cadence’s 5th birthday at the park’
‘Cadydid’s first day of school’
‘A new bike for my big girl’
The photos continue into her teen years, the years when she thought she knew everything and that her goofy dad and his stupid Polaroids were so annoying. Everyone else was starting to move to digital, but no, he just had to keep up with his obsession of instant-print, horrible quality photos. Her moods swung back and forth at random, so in some pictures she’s actually smiling, and having a good time, while in others it’s obvious that the smile is forced, merely appeasing her dad. 
There’s one picture in particular that’s always been her favorite. It’s one of very few in the album that her dad is actually in. Their faces are smooshed together, nearly identical eyes and noses side by side, and the framing is all off. Her dad’s ear and half his cheek are cut off by the edge of the photo. It was his attempt at a ‘selfie’, a much more difficult feat without a front-facing camera, and he was being so ridiculous while trying to make it happen that she was laughing aloud when he finally took it. 
That girl in that photo was so innocent, so naïve. She wanted to grow up so badly. Having to do what an adult said instead of going off and living her own life was such a horrible tragedy, or so she thought back then. 
If only she knew. If only she realized how short the time she had left with that precious man was. If only she understood how absolutely horrible life could actually be. Cady presses a hand to her mouth, stifling a sob. She would give anything to go back to those days, back to that moment. Back to when she didn’t know pain, when the worst thing that happened to her was not being allowed to date or go to a co-ed party. 
Back to when her dad was her protector and hero. 
Her finger traces the edges of the photo, carefully swiping across his label - ‘Me and my girl’. She sucks in a shaky breath, hand pressed into her still-healing ribs, and rubs tears away with her sweater sleeve. 
“I miss you, dad.”
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twoidiotwriters1 · 2 years ago
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Copycat: Cryptomnesia —(Marvel Fem!Oc)
A/N: Well let’s see how this goes for out favorite dumbass -Danny
Words: 1,190
Phase Five Masterlist
Previous Chapter // Next Chapter
Listen to: ‘Special Girl’ -by Dodie
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xii: Birthday Surprise
Back in New York, Cat was showing a healthier skin color than in the past few months, but she was just as miserable. Perhaps even more.
One good thing at least was that she wasn't an Avenger, the danger of having their name dragged through the mud was not possible. She had to make sure no one could link Zero and Copycat together though, and that was proving to be more complicated than expected.
"Mouse, can you hack into a network without being noticed?"
"In theory, yes. But it would take a while."
"How long?"
"I might be able to give you a stat if you tell me exactly what you want."
"My S.H.I.E.L.D files erased from existence. Can you check if any copies have been made? On paper and online."
"It would take me a while to track down all the places that file's been. From there it depends on what comes out to tell you whether it's possible to erase it entirely or not."
"Get to it, then."
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Harley would not believe her if she said she was happier, but he would also be sad to hear it hadn't done anything to cheer her up. The one thing he'd asked, she couldn't do it: to stay away from trouble. In her defense, trouble had walked up to her.
Her eyes landed on her phone, it used to be a picture of her and Matthew but after they broke up she figured it was time to get rid of it so she put Pietro. The young woman looked at it wishing it could speak.
"You always knew how to handle me, not even I know how to do that... and I'm supposed to be an adult!"
Cat stared at the screen, Pietro's smiling face was looking at her, he was full of life... back then she was too. She used to be able to see the good side of things, at least to find them amusing in their irony, but now...
Nothing could've changed her life for the better had she done it differently. How did she survive all those years with no hope in sight? All thanks to her brother, Harley, and Kurt, bless their hearts, always checking on her. Matthew wasn't out of the list, but his name had a question mark and it was starting to vanish.
Cat couldn't forget the way he'd acted the last time they spoke. She'd hurt him when all he'd tried to give her was home. "Home" was not a word she could recognize as a feeling. Matthew couldn't get to her. How can you tempt someone with something they don't know? You're supposed to give it, and then you take it away. That's how you win.
"But he wasn't trying to win, was he?" She asked at her brother's picture, swallowing the lump in her throat. "I thought he'd know... I wanted to stay..."
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Cat put on her heart-shaped sunglasses and left the apartment with Sharon's envelope. She had no interest in seeing what was inside, the only thing she double-checked was the money.
She put on Pietro's old leather jacket, which was falling to pieces, and walked out of the building. It'd never been a big deal, but today was supposed to be her birthday. Cat tried to remember why on earth she'd celebrated her birthday last year. She could hear young voices if she focused for long enough, but that was it. A little frustrating and worrying.
She got to Steve's old bike and turned the ignition. "Mouse, give me an update."
"About your file or the world?"
"The world."
"There's been a sighting in Egypt of two new superheroes— a woman and a man. Few men died but they were part of some kind of cult."
"What about the giant thing that came out of the sea?"
"It's just a rock, hasn't changed since it came out."
She turned right at the end of a street, barely missing an old lady. "Tell me the updates on my files, then."
"Power broker's system is strong."
"Can't go faster?"
"Not if you want me to go unnoticed. Should I remind you there is a possibility Sharon has printed a copy of your file?"
Cat drove faster. "I'll take care of it if I need to."
"Boss."
"Yeah?"
"You missed your stop."
She pulled the brakes abruptly, making a rubber mark on the pavement. "Fuck!" The mutant parked next to the sidewalk. "You could've let me know sooner..."
"I'll do it next time."
Cat approached the restaurant and tried to determine if it was a good idea to take off her sunglasses. She decided it was not. The host watched her appearance with apprehension.
"Is Mr... Jigsaw here?" A security guard approached her, she eyed him with disinterest. "You don't look like a 'Mr.' to me."
"Give us a minute, ma'am," the host said, glancing at the envelope in her hand before walking away.
A minute later he was back, she felt the security guard following her tail and she smirked, she could've taken care of the guard if she wanted to, but she wasn't there to fight. When she got to the table the older men looked at her with loads of interest. Horror washed over Cat at the sight: Billy Russo was there.
"You're one of the gorgons," she couldn't deny he was still handsome, but there was a clear difference in his face: it was covered in deep scars. "Where's your other half?"
"I'm not missing any parts," she replied, but it came out quieter than expected. To make up for it, she added: "Unlike others."
Two of the men moved but Billy raised a hand to stop them. "We have to make allowances with a lady like her," he tilted his head. "Are you here to get rid of me?"
"If I were here to kill you I would've done it by now," she threw the envelope on the table. "They have a message for you."
Billy grabbed the papers. "I'm listening."
"You can't go back to Madripoor unless you get your shit together," she seized a man's drink and sniffed it a little. "They'll send someone worse next time. I'm reasonable, you don't wanna be stuck with him, he's the bad kind of hugger."
Russo watched her down the guard's drink without making a single comment, she poured the remaining droplets on the other guard's crotch and placed it back on the circular table. This had been a warning for her as much as it was for Russo. Sharon could give away Copycat's identity to the guy that wanted her dead the most.
"I have a question," Russo said at last. "Do you work for the Power Broker?"
"I work with the Power broker sometimes. But mostly for myself, and occasionally, my cat."
"What's your name? I doubt you chose the name Gorgon."
The woman sighed deeply, she managed to sound bored. "I don't care how any of you pathetic rich guys call me as long as you pay. Zero's good enough."
Billy raised his glass and winked at her. "Zero."
"See you never, if you're lucky," she smiled, briefly waving at him in a flirty manner before exiting the place.
By the time she climbed on her bike, Cat decided to quit working for these people no matter how petty she felt, would rather eat her own foot before helping any of Russo's friends.
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Next Chapter—>
Taglist.
@mikaelsonwhxrebae​​ @ieatpanicattacksforlunch​​ @jesuswasnotawhiteman​​​ @siriuslysirius1107​​​ @greengarsstuff​​​ @itsyagirl01 @23victoria​​​ @espressopatronum454​​​ @jkthinkstoomuch
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taechaos · 4 years ago
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Silent Treatment
from Textbook Love drabble series
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pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader
genre: drabble, smut, college au
synopsis: Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you.
warnings: slight angst, drugs, arguing, dubcon, cunnilingus, mild degredation
word count: 4.2k
tags: @mwitsmejk @1-in-abillion @kooookie
a/n: the request (contains some spoilers). i'm gonna take a very short break from this couple to write other requests!! hope u enjoy 💗
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The shift in the Spring weather is unpredictable. One moment it’s chilly, and the other sunny. Humans can only adapt so much, and it causes an outbreak of common colds. Most people recover easily, handy medicine soothing their sore throats, syrups suppressing coughs, and nose sprays ridding the blockage. You, on the other hand, are not that lucky. With a weak immune system, you’re very careful to not get sick, but there must have been a slip-up because you’ve somehow lost your voice after catching a cold.
You sniffle and cough, but you can’t speak. It’s advised to not exert your vocal cords in cases like these, and that is just so unfortunate for you. The last thing you’d ever want to do is spread your sickness to Jungkook, and that meant not getting too close to him; it meant no kissing. 
A very large white placard is spread out in front of you on the wooden table, and you’re plastering printed images of a specific global issue on it. You’re sitting on a bench with two of your friends as they chatter mindlessly while you work. Jungkook has a project about climate change due in a few days, and it’s supposed to be very important for his final grade. You’ve already written him a script for his presentation along with a stick prop to point at specific pictures. It’s fun, glittery and he’s going to love it. 
“Hey,” Minnie, your friend, calls for you, “we’re going to get some coffee from Starbucks. Want us to get you green tea?”
Soyeon laughs when your eyes light up; it’s your favorite beverage, and it’s supposed to help with your sore throat. They leave with a smile after you give them a hyper nod and you’re alone as you adjust your woolen scarf around your neck. You need to heal as fast as you can so you’re no longer missing your beloved’s affection.
Jungkook has been feeling more inclined to approach you without reason lately, but that doesn’t mean it’s a common occurrence. Getting teased by his friend, specifically Taehyung, about having a sissy crush on a girl like yourself angered him to no end. A hit always got him to shut up, but not for long. He’s walking your way today because there’s no one around to judge him for talking to you. 
You’re tearing a double-sided tape when he sits on your table, carefully avoiding your materials. Your breath hitches as his eyes gloss over your work in progress. “Working hard, I see,” he comments with disinterest. He doesn’t say anything about your efforts, but he’s impressed. The corner of his lip tugs upwards before he leans in for a kiss. You have enough self-control and concern for his well-being over your desires to lean back before your lips make contact. His face is close to yours as he pauses and slightly frowns before trying again. He receives the same results and finally pulls back. 
“You did well,” he frowns at you and speaks as if you’re a child, “I’m praising you.” Your eyes are darting back and forth awkwardly and you don’t know what to do other than sit in silence. You put your hands on his knees as a resort and his frown deepens as he watches you. “I can take a hint, you know. You don’t have to fucking ignore me.” He roughly shoves your hands and stands up before storming off with a scoff. You’re torn between following him and being responsible over your belongings. You can’t let his grades go to waste because of a small misunderstanding, so you decide to text him instead. There’s always a possibility someone might steal his project. Or maybe after he’s cooled off? You delay the message, but somewhere in your heart, you’re satisfied by his reaction because it’s clear that he wanted to kiss you.
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Heavy footsteps clomp against the sidewalk before Jungkook slumps on the seat next to Taehyung. It’s an isolated area for smoking students at the back of the campus, and his friend group is no exception to this role. They’re taking drags of cigarettes individually as Jungkook glares at his boots. They’re chunky and a bold black, and his dark outfit paints him as the big bad wolf. It fits, because he’s ready to attack when he’s filled with so much resentment. Why did you reject him? He’s consumed by his thoughts and theories of your behavior because you didn’t say a single word to him. If your actions were anything to go by, which apparently speak louder than words, you didn’t even want him to touch you. It doesn’t make sense, but you also grimaced at him, but then why were you doing his homework? He’s feeling frustrated, and upset all the same.
“Someone’s troubled,” Seokjin points out with a mouthful of smoke. “Kookie?”
Said boy only grunts in response.
“Did the lousy girl finally see you for who you really are and leave you?” Taehyung doesn’t hesitate to mock him with a pout. “Tragic.”
“Shut the fuck up, Tae,” Jungkook spits and sends him a death glare, fire flaming in his fierce eyes. “Go actually talk to a girl or something, and leave me alone. I can’t take your shit right now.”
The low blow doesn’t affect Taehyung in the slightest as he holds up his hands in defence with comically wide eyes. “Relax, tiger.”
“Moving on from Tae’s inability to talk to girls in broad daylight, what’s up with you Kook?” Namjoon butts in, earning a fake cough from the receiving end of the insult.
He pauses for a moment before babbling, “I hate those bitches. My mother for one, couldn’t stand wearing clothes whenever she saw a dude. Moving on from guy to guy, unless they’re a fucking asshole. What do they want? Why are they never fucking satisfied?!”
A moment of silence passes among the huddled friends before Yoongi breaks it with a joke, “Who’s the lucky girl?” It doesn’t land as Jungkook deeply sighs in response. “Did she cheat on you?” he tries again.
“No,” he murmurs.
“Then…?”
“She… I don’t fucking know, she gave me the silent treatment. She leaned away from me too,” he shakes his head with a quiet groan, “it just doesn’t add up. I got mad and left.”
“No way that could’ve ended up badly,” Taehyung chuckles but purses his lips when he’s sent another dirty look.  “How long was the interaction anyway?” 
“Like 30 seconds.”
“Are you coming out tonight?” Yoongi asks and puts out the burning tip of his stick. “Could help you feel better.”
“And we’ve got molly,” Namjoon adds.
“Yeah, fine, whatever.”
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Alcohol’s effect on a person differs in moods, and Jungkook is usually a horny drunk. Being a sad drunk is a first for him tonight, but he’s just so confused. It made his heart drop when you outwardly refused his advances and anxiety blossomed in his chest, which he has no idea how to deal with. It kicked in fight or flight instincts, and he just… hated the idea of you not loving him, even if it’s momentary. He can’t bear staying in a situation that makes him feel so insecure, and that feeling is supposed to be left in his childhood. You just about brought out the worst in him without doing anything. 
You didn’t do anything.
It’s 10PM and he’s waiting on your usual good night text that he never responds to. It’s so pathetic, and he hates himself for being so used to your affection that it worries him when he’s deprived of it. He’s never doubted your love for him, but his insecurities are churning his gut. It’s an overflow of all of his pent-up emotions, and he can’t handle it.
“Here,” Taehyung pops in out of nowhere, clutching a pill in his hand. There’s a bottle of water in the other as he holds them out for Jungkook to take. “Stop moping and get laid.”
“I’d say the same to you, but you’d probably start crying during sex,” he mumbles and uncaps the bottle before throwing in the pill and washing it down with the water. “Thanks.”
“See that girl over there?” he ignores him and steps behind his miserable friend to point at the owner of the sultry gaze directed at Jungkook from the bar. “She wants to fuck you. Or maybe me, but I’m passing her onto you.”
“How kind of you,” he sarcastically replies.
“Uh-uh, so you’re gonna be in ecstasy in about 10 minutes. Don’t fuck this up.” He slaps his shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen. It’s a lonesome party because not a lot of people are allowed in when drugs are involved. Causing a ruckus, receiving a noise complaint and then getting arrested is out of the question. 
He isn’t interested in sex with a stranger - not today at least -, but he hopes for it to change as he waits to approach her. Maybe drugs will rile him up enough to have fun with someone else and rid his mind of you. It’s an annoying itch on his brain, so he rests his head against the couch to comfort himself with the soft fabric. He’s sleepy from the beer he drank earlier, and he doesn’t know how time goes by so fast when he closes his eyes.
A few minutes must have passed, because he’s starting to feel dizzy in his seat. A smile carves on his face as his mind grows slightly fogged, and he opens his eyes to find the girl quietly chatting with a friend. When she glances at him, he beckons her to come over. She mouths a “be right back” to her friend before strutting in his direction.
“Hey,” she smiles down at him before sitting on the couch. She’s aristocratic, chic and pretty. “Sorry if I weirded you out earlier.” Her voice is sweet like honey, and her words flow out of her tongue so naturally. A dream girl, really, and Jungkook is starting to get horny.
“I don’t mind,” he reassures with a subtle seductive tone, “what’s a girl like you doing with this crowd? You look too innocent.” He wraps a finger around a strand of her hair and twirls it. It feels strange.
“My friend sent me here, told me to watch over someone,” she lowly speaks. “I’m Soyeon.”
“Nice to meet you, Soyeon,” he breathes before crashing her lips with his. His hand reaches down to grip her thigh, tongue poking out to swipe the sticky gloss. It’s flavored, and it tastes of strawberry. When she kisses him back so slowly, innocently, it turns him on so much. His pants feel tight around his crotch as he runs another hand through her soft hair. Compared to him, she’s passionate whereas he’s sloppy. He’s starting to get dizzier, and it feels so fucking good, but he hates it.
There is not a single reason for him to not enjoy this, not when his mood is lifting so high. The hand on her thigh lands on her cleavage instead and she’s so submissive and shy, but something’s off. He groans into her mouth before biting her lip, ripping a whine out of her. Why does she sound so sexy and annoying?  
He pulls away from her before sighing in irritation. “Fuck, I can’t do this.” 
“Did I do something wrong?” she asks worriedly.
“No, just, fuck.” He starts laughing before rubbing his palms on his eyes, “I really want to fuck, but I just can’t.”
“We can just chat,” she softly suggests. “What’s your name?”
“Jungkook.”
He removes his hands from his face when she goes silent. Her eyes are wide and she’s gaping at him… guiltily? “Crap,” she hisses quietly, “I was supposed to make sure you were okay. My roommate is like, super in love with you and asked me to come here.”
He says your name in a question, wondering if it’s you. When she nods, he asks for your dorm instantly.
“She’s in room 124… Why?”
When he stands up, there’s a sway in his posture but he recovers quickly. There’s an involuntary grin on his face as he thanks her ignorantly. He’s out of the villa in a rush, and he has the overwhelming urge to just run. The campus is a bit far away from the house, but he doesn’t care as his footfalls echo in the dark streets. He has so much energy to waste, and with his current stamina, he’s confident he’ll find you before dawn. It’s stupid but it’s fun, and he doesn’t care for catching his breath as the corner stores pass by him in a blur. 
Throughout the two hours of his reckless jog, where he mixed up directions multiple times, his mind is starting to clear up little by little. He’s happy because of what Soyeon told him, and he feels relieved upon seeing the familiar college building. He’s not allowed in dorms at this time, but he’s done this too many times to get caught. Except he was drunk in those instances, and being on MDMA was different. Sneaking past security was tough because he couldn’t bring himself to tiptoe without making so much noise. When they glanced at him, he thought it to be the only choice to just run past them. He’s in the elevator by the time they catch on, and the numbers look wonky in his eyes but he presses the button for the right floor. 
He’s shifting his weight repeatedly in an attempt to contain his excitement; he wants to see you so bad. The moment he hears the ding of the elevator, he’s running past the halls and stops upon seeing 124. He has to squint, but he knows this is your dorm. 
You wake up with a silent gasp when there’s a pound on the door. You clutch your sheets in fear until someone starts to sing your name. “Jungkook?” you mouth to yourself. You stand up and look through the peephole and there’s a man on the other side who’s bouncing on his feet impatiently.
“Open up,” he sings loudly. You’re worried when you swing the door open and yank him inside so he doesn’t wake up any other students. You try to talk but only a wheeze comes out, so you switch on the light to see him instead. The brightness hurts your eyes as you close them for a few seconds. “Well, well, well, look who we have here…”
He starts to circle around you slowly and stumbles behind you. “Sending people to spy on me after rejecting me like that.” His words are slightly slurred and you turn around to face him with a pout. You point at your throat to give him a hint, but his eyes don’t waver from your pleading ones. “What are your intentions, huh?” he weakly pushes you, “Sending me mixed signals. Who- who do you think you are?”
You hold his hands and place them on your neck, trying to communicate with him by mouthing, “I’m sick,” but he only chuckles. He seems sickeningly joyous, but he’s not over his anger. “Still not going to talk to me? What did I even do?”
You deeply inhale from your nose because he’s not paying attention to you. You’re frustrated with yourself until he yells, “WHY WON’T YOU TALK TO ME?” The surge of serotonin, his state of euphoria is crashing down on him the more you ignore him. He had believed the drug would only make him happy, but it intensified his sadness and anxiety just as much when he saw you. It helped him forget you in a social circle, but you confused him so much after he was reassured for so long - coupled with your silence, he’s raging.
“Why are you ignoring me?! What did I do that was so bad that you can’t bear talking to me anymore? You told me you loved me, please,” he chokes and tries to swallow the lump in his throat. “I-I’ll make it up to you, I’m so sad right now. Just say something…”
You’re watching him in shock and a hint of fear from his fluctuating mood. You want to cry at how pitiful he looks, but instead you aim to grab a piece of paper from your bedside table. He misreads your actions and pushes you against the wall. “Stop this. Stop!” He has your arms pinned and he’s trying so hard to intimidate you so you give in. A dry sob leaves you because he's going mad, but then he has a sudden epiphany. “Maybe you’ll love me again if I fuck you hard enough and engrave it in your brain that you’re mine. Yes, yes!”
He starts unbuckling his belt and you immediately try to stop him; he’ll get sick! He shoves you again and pulls down his jeans before mashing his mouth against yours. All of your efforts have gone to waste when his tongue forces its way down your throat. There’s no point to denying him now, so you hesitantly kiss him back. You’re so guilty, and he’s so careless as he roughly pushes his hand down your white cotton shorts. You’re wearing a navy blue sweater to match so you don’t get cold in the night, but the shorts are meant to prevent a fever. What’s the point now, then? He hasn’t even read your texts that you only remembered to send before sleeping. He missed a whole paragraph of your explanation and confronted you so angrily.
“I’m going to fuck you all night,” he growls against your lips, “then you’ll remember how much you love me.” Your moans are quiet and hitched as he presses down on your clit through your panties. His other hand is on his cock as he strokes it eagerly, ready to get inside you. “I missed you so fucking much in one day,” he whispers in a croak. Hearing it makes you feel even warmer inside as you nudge his hand to urge him to enter you. “You missed me too, huh?” he takes notice of your neediness. “Shouldn’t have fucking brought it upon yourself then.”
He removes his hand from your shorts and taps your thighs before demanding, “Jump.” You bite your lip in consideration until he taps them harder and you quickly wrap your legs around his waist. Your shorts are relatively short, resembling loose boxers, so when your back is pressed against the wall he only pushes them and your underwear to the side before thrusting into you. A scream gets caught in your throat, and you forget all about your aches as he roughly fucks into you without caring for protection or lube. It stings only slightly, but the pleasure in feeling so full of him outweighs the pain.
Jungkook is moaning and groaning as he bruises your thighs in his hold. Your panting is all he can catch, and though the feeling of you is an amplified sensation because of the drug coursing in his system, he wants to hear you chant his name as well. “Still quiet?” he tuts and carries you to your narrow bed and you cling onto his shoulder while trying to catch your breath after the sudden attack. “Your cunt is throbbing though,” he says as he pulls out of you and drops you on the bed. He manhandles you by flipping you on your stomach and holds up your ass. He finally takes off your bottom clothing, but he’s slightly dizzy as he yanks them off your ankles. He spreads your thighs apart and you’re on your knees with your head against the mattress. “I wonder why that is,” he says before slapping your pussy, making you whimper quietly. “So wet, yet you don’t even make a sound. Some whore you are.” You purse your lips and muster a whine, but it’s interrupted when he pistons his cock inside you without warning. Your sounds are hoarse as he pounds into you from the back, hands kneading your ass to the shape of his hands. He gives it a spank as he moans loudly; the new position makes it feel so much more intense, and Jungkook loves it. His ears finally get to hear your pathetic mewls as he thrusts so deeply inside you that your vision blurs with tears and your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You feel like a doll that can’t speak or move, and he’s evidently enjoying it going by his rushed pace. You’re challenging him with your silence, and he loves proving himself.
All of a sudden however, he stops moving. You look behind you with a pout and he quirks a brow at you. You grit your teeth because you know he's waiting for you to tell him to continue, or rather daring you to do something. A sudden surge of confidence overcomes you and you gently slam your hips against his, fucking yourself on his cock with your eyes screwed shut.
“Yes, baby,” he strains, “show me that you're still my good girl.” At his encouragement, you meet his thrusts faster and you're seeing stars at how amazing it feels. You want to be his good girl so bad, and you arch your back to savour the pleasure. “Your pussy is mine, all mine,” he affirms to himself and stills your hips to turn you around without removing his length. His fingers are digging into your flesh and your tits bounce under the fabric as he rams into you restlessly. Your mouth is open in a silent scream and he can barely make out your pupils, the whites of your eyes stirring his climax at how attractive you look under the poor lighting. “I love you so fucking much,” he cries, “say it back, baby.”
You try to, but you can only dryly cough. “You fucking bitch,” he hisses at your defiance and pulls out of you to pump his length. He’s close to his release, and he pushes up your sweater to see your hard nipples that make him salivate. He crawls to slide his cock between the valley of your breasts and it hurts when he harshly pushes them together. “Stick out your tongue,” he commands in a whisper, and you do so while panting like a dog. Every time he thrusts upwards, the tip of his head grazes your tongue and leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. He’s massaging your tits as he stutters between whines, and eventually his load spurts out to land on your chest and cheek with a particularly loud groan. His cum surges down his shaft as he rides out his high with the last slow thrusts. 
“Oh fuck,” he sighs airily and collapses next to you in the tiny space available. You clumsily turn on your side to give him more room and he pecks your swollen lips. He zips his pants back up and you’re still naked from the waist down. You’re staring at each other adoringly in the romantic, fragile atmosphere; another first.
“I love you,” you croak finally. It’s quieter than a whisper, and it makes you cringe at how hideous you sound; it’s painful as well.
His face lights up once he registers your words before noticing the tone. “What happened to your voice?”
“Sick.” You can’t bring yourself to say anything more as you snuggle into his side and he instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulders.
“Shit,” he murmurs, “why didn’t you tell me that sooner, idiot?”
You slap a hand on his front pocket where his phone is, and he hastily takes it out to see a bunch of notifications from you. “You sent it at night, you’re still the idiot.” You giggle and roll your eyes. “A promise is a promise, though,” he purrs before cupping your bare heat. “I did say I would fuck you all night.” You widen your eyes when his head lowers down to face your sopping wet cunt, and he slowly licks up a stripe over your soaked folds, making you shudder and grip his hair. He’s leaving kitty licks all over your sensitivity, the tip of his tongue lightly brushing against your clit every now and then. Your hips lift involuntarily, and he finally takes your clit in his mouth and sucks on it loudly. He slurps your arousal before spitting it back on your hood, and you can only squeak in response. Your hazed mind only tells you that you want more, and he doesn’t fail to provide.
Two fingers enter your clenching hole, and he’s scissoring your walls as he messily eats you out. The pleasure from earlier returns all too soon and you know you won’t be able to last long. His lids are hooded when you glance down at him and the way he’s looking at you makes it even harder to resist your orgasm. The knot in your stomach picks back up right before unraveling and your moan is raspy as you start twitching under his relentless mouth. He grows gentle and leaves kisses all over your vulva until your body falls limp on the sheets.
After another round of penetrative sex, the two of you fall asleep from exhaustion in your bed. It’s a first for the both of you, and Jungkook decides in his drunken mind that tonight won’t be the last. It feels so intimate when he cuddles you, and you won’t ever forget his love confession.
The next morning is not so pleasant however, as Jungkook wakes up with a loud sneeze and in his now nasal voice says, “God fucking damn it.”
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cherrycocaineee · 3 years ago
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17. Min Yoongi - Aftercare
*Warning - mentions of sex, making out* *Slanted, bold words mean that it’s being spoken in Korean.*
*Min Yoongi’s p.o.v*
      The sweet smell of sex filtered out of the room once I cracked the window open, letting the cool air drift through the hot, sweaty room, emptying it out. Hadley’s tired form was covered by the thin sheet, her sweet, bright brown eyes drooping tiredly. Even though she was tired, she still made an effort to smile at me happily. Chuckling, I crawled back on top of the bed and moved over to her. She turned over to her back and watched as I leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
 “Let’s get you taken care of,” I whispered against her fleshy, soft, pink lips.
 “You don’t have to, Yoongi,” she replied, “I’ll do it. You should rest.”
 But I ignored her, gently grabbing her shoulders and pulling her upright. The sheet she was using slipped a little, almost revealing her breast. I looked down at them, spotting the reddish, purple marks I had caused to form after assaulting her flesh with my mouth. Her cheeks started to turn a bit red as she caught me staring.
 “Yoongi,” she whined.
 I took the sheet off of her and pulled her into my arms; her naked form brushing against the cloth of my gray sweatpants. Her head pressed against my shoulder; the feeling of her brown, soft hair touching my skin caused me to shiver. I took her into the bathroom and placed her in the tub. The heat from the hot water mixed with the aroma of the bath bomb and bubbles I had added to it. Vanilla and coffee, the two smells that reminded me of Hadley the most, especially when I was away on tour. Kneeling beside the tub, I grabbed the wash cloth I had pulled out and dipped it in the water. Hadley sunk a little lower into the water, a relaxed breath puffing out as she closed her eyes. I could only smile, feeling absolute love and admiration for the girl sitting in front of me.
  I started dragging the cloth over her body and wiping away the sweat that was still clinging to her skin. My eyes watched her breast move up and down as she continued to breathe; her breath was getting heavier and I couldn’t tell if she was asleep or aroused from all of my touching. Not wanting to take the chance of her being asleep in the water, I reached over and shook her. Her eyes fluttered open.
 “Don’t fall asleep,” I hummed, “it’s dangerous.”
 “Yes sir,” she whispered, tiredly.
 I smiled again and continued to clean her up. Once all of her body was cleaned, I moved to washing her hair, pouring a cup of already soapy water over her head. A soft giggle left her lips as the water showered over her.
 “Yoongi,” she said, “come on, you don’t have to wash my hair too.”
 “Let me spoil you, doll,” I hummed in her ear, “I hardly get to do this being away for so long. And aftercare is important.”
 “Oh fine. But tomorrow, I’m taking care of you.”
 I only hummed in response, letting her go back to relaxing instead of talking. I wanted her to enjoy herself. After washing her hair and rinsing her off, I wrapped a towel around her frame and picked her back up, not caring if I got wet. Placing her on the bed, I went over to the dress and grabbed her brush and hair dryer. It wasn’t good for her to have wet hair.
While I blow dried and brushed her hair, I listened to her read from the book she grabbed off her nightstand. The book was called
“The Great Gatsby”
and it was one of her favorite books. Just hearing her voice when she read from the page made me happy. I stopped the hair dryer and leaned over her shoulder, staring at the book’s pages, unable to read them just yet. However, Hadley was teaching me every day how to read and pretty soon I would be able to read the book to her while she was falling asleep.
   Hadley’s brown eyes turned to look at me, her soft, puppy dog stare watching me curiously.
“Everything okay?” She inquired.
 “Yeah,” I whispered, “I’m just admiring the most beautiful girl in the room.”
 “You’re too kind.”
 I nestled my head into the crook of her neck, she turned back and continued to read a little longer while I rested. After a while, I finished drying and brushing her hair then started her skin care routine. Once again, she tried to tell me to let her do it but I ignored her. My baby deserved much more after sex so this was the least I could do for her. Hadley started laughing when I wiped her makeup off.
 “That tickles,” she laughed.
 All I could do was laugh with her. Hadley told me each step to her normal skin care routine while I did it. I was putting a clay mask on her when she climbed into my lap, wrapping her legs around my waist. When I first arrived, she had asked me if I had worked out because I was starting to get thicker and harder around my torso area. I cleaned my fingers off with a baby wipe just as Hadley reached over and grabbed the clay mask.
 “You do one too,” she said, taking a small amount in her hand and starting to put it on my face.
 I let her put the mask on and couldn’t stop myself from smiling. She was amazing. After putting the clay mask all over my face, she wiped her hands clean and set a timer, telling me that we had to leave it on for 10 minutes before taking it off. In the meantime, I watched Hadley go through her photos on Instagram; recently having posted some photos from her recent trip to the beach with a group of her friends. I enjoyed looking at the photos of her. Soon, she asked me to see the photos from my trip back home. So I showed her the ones I took, and some of the ones Jungkook and Hoseok took of me when I had my hands full.
  We were so content with what we were doing that the sound of Hadley’s alarm going off made us jump. She reached over and grabbed her phone, pressing the off button on her alarm. The two of us headed into the bathroom again and started rinsing off the clay mask that now felt like a sticky paste, ready to be taken off.
 Hadley used warm water to rub the clay off her face, her fingers moving in swift circles. I followed in her footsteps and did the same, watching her as she made sure to get every spot and carefully moving around her eyes and mouth so the clay didn’t touch there. Once all  the clay was gone, she dabbed her face gently with a soft towel, her name printed on it, then handed it to me so I could do the same. I started rubbing my face when she stopped me.
 “No silly,” she smiled, “dab, don’t rub.”
 Nodding my head, I started dabbing the water off my skin; her fingers still lingering against my skin as I did so. Our eyes locked. Setting the towel on the counter, I grabbed her hands and moved closer to her, my lips becoming incredibly close to hers.
 “I love you,” I said to her.
 “I love you too,” she said.
 My lips collided with hers, moving softly at first but then getting rougher with each passing second. Hadley’s arms wrapped around my neck as mine wrapped around her waist. I lifted her up, placing her bare ass on the counter top, our lips never disconnecting. Her small fingers tangled themselves into my hair as she moaned into my mouth. I slid my hands down to her thighs and squeezed, causing her to gasp leaving an opening for me to slip my tongue in. She moaned a bit louder when she felt my tongue exploring the inside of her wet cavern.
  Because of the lack of air, I had to pull away, panting and watching the small drip of drool pull from between us. My lustful eyes staring into her submissive eyes. Not a single word left our lips, but we were interrupted by the sound of my phone going off. Groaning, I removed my hands from her thighs and headed out of the bathroom to see who was interrupting my time with Hadley. Hadley followed soon after, grabbing one of her t-shirts from her drawer and throwing it on, not bothering to put on any panties, and climbed into bed.
I pressed the answer call, seeing that Jungkook was calling, and pushed the screen to my ear.
“Jungkook, why are you calling?”
I asked, stealing a quick glance at Hadley, hoping she wouldn’t fall asleep yet.
 “I was told to see when you’re coming home,”
he replied,
“we have a big photoshoot tomorrow, so no one wants you to be late.”
 “I’m not coming back home tonight. I’m spending the evening with Hadley.”
 It was almost silent on the other end as Jungkook was relaying my message to whoever wanted to know my whereabouts. A few moments passed and Jungkook came back to the phone.
 “Okay, just make sure that you’re here before noon. That’s when the photoshoot is.”
 “Alright. I’ll see you guys tomorrow. Goodnight, tell the others goodnight too.”
 “Goodnight, hyung. Tell Hadley I said goodnight! Bring her to the photoshoot tomorrow if she can come.”
 I wasn’t able to get another word out because Jungkook hung up quickly. Sighing, I placed my phone on the dresser and turned to see Hadley laying in bed, her eyes closed. Smiling, I climbed under the covers with her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She looked up at me.  “Goodnight, Yoongi. Thank you for taking care of me.”  “Goodnight, my love. I’ll always take care of you.”  With that, the two of us fell asleep in each other's arms. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of us breathing and the wind drafting through the room, still ridding the air of our previous sexual encounter. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was able to sleep peacefully. Not worrying about the manager walking in and telling me to get up, or the others walking in to wake me up so I can fix something. I could just sleep with the girl I loved. And I couldn’t picture anything better.
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alltooreid · 4 years ago
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All Too Well
Spencer must go to him and Y/N’s once shared apartment to clean out his things and leave her life forever. While there he can’t help but look back on his actions, the ones that made him lose the love of his life forever
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A/N: Hi!! This is my first fanfic ever published on here and I’m excited to share it with you all! It’s inspired by one of my favorite Taylor Swift songs All Too Well, but although I utilized some of the lyrical genius and imagery from it, the story is not the same as the story in the song. This is a very angsty fic, and there is not a happy ending. Although there are some cute fluffy elements, including a Reid’s purple scarf origin story, I would in no way call this happy. Additionally, because of a reason you may later realize, the content warnings are very vague. If anything even slightly mentioned in them may affect you, I advise you to maybe stay clear. On a lighter note, if anyone wants to request anything, whether it’s another song inspired fic or a general plot line you would like to see please do so!! Also sorry this is kinda short, I’m still learning but I’m really proud of this one :))
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader
Type: Very Angsty, Not a Happy Ending, (Y/N and Spencer do not end up together)
Word Count: 2.4k
Content Warnings(try to ignore if you would prefer to stay surprised): slight cursing, discussions of death and gore, discussion of car crash
Things to Know: Italics and bold are flashback moments :) let me know what you think!
“But you keep my old scarf from that very first week 'Cause it reminds you of innocence And it smells like me You can't get rid of it 'Cause you remember it all too well”
Spencer was packing up his things, finally getting the chance to clear out and move from the apartment he and Y/N once shared.  Their relationship was rocky and unconventional but he loved her all the same. Even though he left her broken-hearted and destroyed his most cherished relationship. Even though Y/N’s parents now hated him because of what he did to her. Even though hope of repairing what they once had was long gone and there was nothing else he could do about it. Even though he had torn up the masterpiece they once had together. He still loved her so much.
But the magic was gone and so was she. 
Now Spencer was left with memories, and since the apartment they lived in was hers instead of his, filed entirely under hers and her parents name. In his excessive knowledge and wisdom, Spencer Reid struggled to understand how the kitchen where Y/N told him she loved him for the first time as he lit the candle on the collapsing confetti cake he had attempted to bake for her birthday was in no way legally tied to him. 
“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to Y/N! Happy birthday to you!” Spencer sang as he lit the single pink birthday candle he found after rummaging through his desk drawers for longer than he cared to admit. He knew it was in there somewhere, but at the same time there was a whole lot in there. 
As he looked at her face, eyes welling up with tears as she took in the sad, homemade excuse for a birthday party Spencer had thrown together after they got back from a case hours before, he couldn’t help but feel he should have done more. He wanted to take her to New York, where they would’ve enjoyed fine dining and one of those incredibly detailed floral frosting cakes he knew Y/N was infatuated with. 
However, the case in Oregon ran long. They had only returned to their apartment 2 hours ago, hours past their 7pm dinner reservations. Although Y/N tried to hide her disappointment, you don’t need to be a profiler to know that someone wants to celebrate their own birthday. So although they had agreed to go to bed and play everything by ear tomorrow, the young genius had, what he would still argue to be, his most brilliant idea when he saw Y/N asleep once he got out of the shower.
It was still her birthday.
And Spencer had just under 2 hours to throw you a party. 
So sure, Y/N deserved more than a cake that was definitely not cool enough to frost, but was frosted anyway due to time constraints. And she definitely deserved more than present hastily wrapped in his printed out articles and newspaper clippings. Spencer wished that he had time to go buy new candles, instead of lighting a green sparkly number 7 because it was all he could find.
But it was almost midnight, and that meant he only had 18 minutes before it wasn’t Y/N’s birthday anymore.
So instead of dwelling on it, he headed to their bedroom, shook her awake and watched her roll over to face him. He watched the smile overtake her face as she said the stupid party hat he was wearing, made out of a pom pom and a wedding invitation.
“Hey birthday girl,” he said softly, “you do realize you’re sleeping through your party right?”
She looked so happy that night, even as she saw the way too messy kitchen and her birthday cake that was melting by the second. She laughed as Spencer fumbled with the lighter. 
And as he finished singing her eyes started releasing tears. 
“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wish we could’ve done more for the first birthday we get to spend together. “
“No, no, no” she said as she wiped her tears away, “It’s not that at all.”
She smiled and looked up at him “I just love you so goddamn much Spencer.”
Although at one point, all Spencer knew was logic and logically Y/N had never ever known him when she filed her paperwork, the genius still struggled to grasp the concept. That even before the ending of it all, you had no legal, definite connection to her at all. 
How was nothing about this place, his? 
  All that he knew was that he had today to pack all his shit and leave. All he knew is that Y/N’s father had made it very clear none of their family wanted to see him again. 
He wished he could talk to Y/N about it. However all of his calls went to voicemail immediately. 
Logically, Spencer knew why, he had completely fucked up. 
But still, he called every single day, as there was nothing his heart wished for more than to speak to Y/N again. To apologize, to beg for forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.
As the cold air from the open windows blew into the apartment, Spencer couldn’t help but feel he was leaving his home behind. Everything left of her was going to be here, and he wouldn’t get to experience any part of the life you and him had once shared together anymore.
But then he saw it. 
The royal purple scarf Y/N bought the day of their first date. 
“You like this color right?” she asked as they stopped by a booth at the street festival she had taken him to. Spencer was too distracted as he watched the other couples on dates, as they walked hand and hand down the streets. He sometimes wished he could forget things like the number of germs and bacteria that lived on her hands. He at least wished he could forget long enough to gather enough courage to hold Y/N’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk.
“Hmm?” he said, looking back at her, then the scarf she was now wearing. “Oh, yeah! I love that color, it um- looks great on you.”
She smiled, then turned to the weird old guy running the stand. “How much for the scarf?” she asked.
He looked at her, then looked at Spencer, “depends which one of you is paying.”
Before Spencer could say anything, let alone pull out his wallet, Y/N already had hers out. 
“Well, for a pretty lady like you, it’s 2 dollars,” the man said.
She handed him five and turned to Spencer. “You hear that? I’m so pretty I get 80% off! Wonder what you would’ve paid huh pretty boy? He would probably owe you money.” The man handed her her change and whispered something Spence couldn’t quite catch. 
“Gross,” Y/N said as they exited the booth, “he wrote his number on my change.”
Spencer chuckled, “Did you really just buy that scarf because I like the color of it?”
She smiled, “Don’t get so cocky now Einstein, I like purple too you know? And maybe if you’re lucky I’ll let you borrow it.”
At that moment Spencer felt just okay enough to wrap his arm around Y/N’s, and she felt just right enough to wrap the new scarf around them both. 
The one she left next to her front door, after making the last minute decision to leave it at home the night of their final outing.
No one would notice if he….. Right?
Sure maybe Y/N would but what would she do about it? Hunt him down just to get a scarf she paid less than five dollars for? Definitely not. 
He wrapped it around his neck and closed his eyes, even days later he could perfectly picture Y/N singing in his car, fascinated by the autumn leaves falling around her. He felt the wind in his hair, but instead of the cold, dreary air from the open apartment window, he swore he could remember the warm air from that October night. 
“Spencer I know you hate it but please, please, please. I’m so tired.”
“Sweetheart you’re not tired, you’re drunk. Of course I have to drive you home.”
“Oh, whatever.”
A phone call broke him away from his memories, it was Hotch. Spencer was angry, how effortlessly cruel of him to call him during such an emotional time. Hotch knew how much Spencer loved Y/N, the whole team did. 
So he didn’t pick up.
Instead he walked over to the coffee table they used to put their feet on when they binged watched Doctor Who together. Letting the ringtone play out in the background, Spencer picked up an old photo album Y/N’s parents must have brought out. Of course he remembered it, it was the same one they flipped through when he met Y/N’s parents for the first time. He didn’t realize she had brought it home with her.
His eyes welled up with tears as he flipped through the old school pictures, remembering how embarrassed Y/N was of her big glasses. He saw her old athlete pictures from when she used to play tee ball, and flipped through more pictures until he reached the end of your softball career, in college. 
He remembered how hard Y/N blushed when she showed him her childhood bedroom. Her twin sized bed was full of stuffed animals and her walls covered in boy band posters. 
“You know what Spencer? I don’t want to hear it. I loved and still love the BackStreet Boys and I am not ashamed of that.”
He laughed, “You know, before we started dating I always thought you were so cool and unattainable. I imagined that you had always been this chic, beautifully brilliant badass. It’s oddly comforting to know that you wore tortoiseshell glasses and had a fruitless infatuation with Nick Carter.”
She gasped, before tossing her tabby cat stuffed toy at him, “You’re about to get it!”
Once again he was called out of the memory by his phone. 
And once again he let it ring.
Spencer went into their shared bedroom, most of his things were already put into boxes for him. Honestly he was surprised that they hadn’t been set on fire or thrown away after what he did. 
Soon it was time for him to take his things down to his car.
Except it wasn’t even his car. It was Morgan’s.
“Spencer, you are the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in my entire life. I am infatuated with you, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“You sure that isn’t the alcohol talking Y/N”
“Look at me Spencer, no, no really look at me.”
He couldn’t imagine ever using his old car again after what had happened in it.
“You are my future.”
Not that he could use it again.
“You are my everything.”
It was pretty much destroyed, after that accident on that little town street.
“I want nothing more in my life, than for you to be in it.”
When he was so enamored by Y/N, so in love that he couldn’t take his eyes off her, that he ran a red light.
And the truck waiting to go didn’t stop either.
“SPENCER! SPENCER CAN YOU HEAR ME? I NEED YOU TO CALL 911!” she screamed, her voice filled with agony, her limbs mangled in a sea of crushed mental and snapped backwards by the emergency airbag she didn’t realize she was resting her feet on.
Spencer had already called 911. That was the sickest thing about it. Spencer was, physically, perfectly fine. Spencer would get to leave the hospital after just a few days. Spencer could’ve probably gotten out of the car if he tried to. But he stayed, he stayed with Y/N, as she wasn’t fine. As Spencer looked down on her broken body, and tried desperately to find just one piece of skin that wasn’t coated in blood, her blood, that is when he realized. That not only could Y/N not walk out of the hospital with him, but she probably wouldn’t even make it there.
So he sobbed, he struggled to breathe, not because of the ways Y/N did, but because he had caused all the reasons she couldn’t.
“Hey, Spencer, look at me.”
So he did, and he reached for her hands and held them so tightly, and wanted one last time to feel her squeeze back. And she did, just ever so softly. 
“Spencer, I meant everything I said to you. I want you to spend the rest of my life with me. Please.”
“I love you so much Y/N”
“I love you too.”
Spencer was drawn away from his memories once again as he got another phone call. 
But it wasn’t Hotch this time. It was Mr. Y/L/N, so he answered it. He owed him that.
“Are you out of her house yet? You’ve had hours. I want you gone Spencer.”
Spencer sighed, “I’m leaving now sir, I’m just putting the last of my things in the trunk and then I’ll be gone.”
“Good, I never want to see you again Spencer, you hear me?” Mr. Y/L/N said. “And you better not have anything of hers either. All that stuff in your car better belong to you and you only. If Y/N paid for even a dime of it it better still be in that house.”
Spencer looked down at this scarf he was wearing, the one that still smelled like her perfume. The one that he couldn’t bring himself to take off because he reminded him of so much innocence and beauty.
“Yes sir, I didn’t take anything.”
“Good. And Spencer do me a favor.”
“Anything sir.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Mr. Y/L/N said, and then hung up. Spencer sighed, he expected that and fully deserved it.
How else should a father react when you kill his daughter?
“'Cause there we are again when I loved you so Back before you lost the one real thing you've ever known It was rare, I was there, I remember it all too well”
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yamithediaperdork · 4 years ago
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Let’s Make A Star! (MHA)
Let's make a star!
To the surprise of no one, Mineta was spending his Friday night doing what he did well, just about every night in his room: Looking at porn online. the shameless pervert was proud of his status though even if he was finding increasingly weird porn to look at, and tonight he'd decided to look into a fetish to spice things up. 'Man does not exist on tentacle porn alone' He thought with a little giggle, going to his favorite my porn site. Hmm'ing and ha'ing for a second, he decided what the hell and typed in adult diaper and soon was browsing the kinky world of grown women and men acting like babies and crapping themselves, though it wasn't quite getting him the thrill he was looking for. Not ready to give up the fight yet (he prided himself on being able to get off to almost anything after all) he went into a chat room for the ABDL's and asked if anyone had any good video's or pictures to recommend, saying he was looking for a super red faced or embarrassed diaper boy or girl. the response's lit up and he was showered with links, though most of them he had seen already to his disappointment.   the last link however was one he'd have to pay to unlock, but since it was only 5 bucks and the title of it was 'super embarrassing diaper mess while cleaning the potty' Mineta figured it would be worth it. As the video started and he saw who the star was the pervert grinned ear to ear, this was WELL worth the five bucks!
Katsuki was in a bad mood Saturday morning. Not only had he had to go to class despite it being the weekend to do a stupid make up test for one he'd flunked, He'd been getting non stop text messages from grape head about wanting to meet up. 'Because THAT'S what I wanna do, hang out with a pervert.' Katsuki thought, just ignoring the texts, and having to turn his phone off while taking the test anyways. After handing the test in Katsuki was free to go and found the fucking perv waiting for him outside of the classroom. "You know, Ignoring people is rude." The little shit said, wagging a figure at Katsuki. "all the fucks I give about what you think are in my hand.. Oh look! there's nothing there!" Katsuki said and kept walking. Mineta apparently wasn't to be ignored, and dashed to catch up to him. "You know, you should be nicer to someone who could get you expelled." He huffed. THAT caught Katsuki's attention, and with it being just the two of them in the hell he turned around and looked at the pervert. "Really? and how are you going to get me expelled? By pissing me off so much I blow you up? I'd likely get a god damn medal." Katsuki pointed out with a smirk. "well as i understand it, Hero's aren't suppose to have pay to see porn out there, though yours is more interesting then most." Mineta said, a evil smile on his face. The smirk instantly dropped from Katsuki's face and his jaw dropped. "I-I don't know what your talking about." he stammered. "Really, so your NOT 'stinky little diaper boy for pay'?" Mineta asked, a mock look of surprise on his face. "That's odd, you must have a twin out there then, but hey, maybe I'm wrong, let's bring up a video an-" And the little shit was bringing up his phone and indeed was going to his saved video's folder. "W-wait!" Katsuki whimpered, his cheeks bright red. "Ok ok it's me, what the fuck do you want?" "Well what I want is a few things, but I think we should go back to your room and talk in semi private don't you?" Mineta asked, a smug look on his face. "..Yeah ok." Katsuki huffed, and lead the way.
Coming into Katsuki's dorm room Mineta was shocked at how pleasant it smelled in there when about 70 percent of the blond's video's had him taking a dump in his huggies. 'then again he would of been busted long ago if he hadn't of learned how to take care of it.' The pervert thought. Strolling over and taking a seat on Katsuki's bed, Mineta pointed at the floor for Katsuki to take a seat, and chuckled as he meekly did so. "So I think it's clear by now that I could destroy you with little to no effort on my part. the higher ups don't want anther pervert hero out there making the hero community look bad." Mineta started, enjoying the look of worry on Katsuki's face. "But before I make my list of demands, I'd like to know what exactly prompted you to start crapping yourself in huggies for pay." "I uh..I.." Katsuki was turning SUCH a cute shade of red and Mineta found himself loving his power over the much bigger and deadlier boy. "yes? Go on.." Mineta chuckled. "I needed to make some money fast for a bike I wanted, and my mom was refusing to help. then some pervert old guy said he'd buy the bike for me if I crawled around in a diaper and sucked on a pacifier for 2 hours. I figured I could always blow him up if he tried to cheat me or do anything weird but the deal went off. After I realized they had to be A LOT of people like him, and it was easy money..S-So Next time I got some money from mom I got a pack of diapers and well.. You know.." Katsuki trailed off. "Set up a pay to view porn channel where you crap your diapers and do walks of shame. And your saying nothing you do is really YOUR fetish, just doing it for the money?" Mineta asked. "Well um..I.." Katsuki whined big time and was poking two fingers together. it was so unlike him that Mineta was having to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. "I Might of semi kinda come to MAYBE like it a little...but it's mostly for the money. A lot of what I do is actually fan submitted requests and I only do the ones that come with a tribute attached to them." He finished up. "well I think if your gonna keep charging as much as you do, you're gonna need to step up your game and your camera work. I know it's tough for you to film yourself so I'll be helping you with that from now on." Mineta said, and seeing a argument starting to form on Katsuki's lips he stopped it in it's tracks."That's part of my demands to keep quiet so don't even think of fighting unless you wanna be famous around school. Second item on my list is that half of what you make though being a diaper filling perv goes right into my greedy little hand. I'm not helping you and keeping my mouth shut for free after all." Katsuki glared but then huffed and pouted, crossing his arms and glaring at the floor. "Third part of my list of demands is that you wear a diaper to class at least twice a week, we'll get you some thinner ones and you won't have to use it but I think it'll keep you from getting any big ideas. That's all, for now." Mineta finished up and gave Katsuki a look that dared the diapered for pay boy to just try and argue. "Your a fucking bastard you know that?" Katsuki growled. "Just for that, whenever we're in private from now on you'll call me daddy. go ahead little boy, keep mouthing off." Mineta said. "..Fine you win.." Katsuki huffed and slumped, knowing he was beaten. "I'm sorry, 'you win' what?" Mineta asked and leaned down and cupped Katsuki's chin, making the blond look him in the eyes. "..You win..Daddy." Katsuki whimpered. "Good boy! Now let's go and get you all padded for a new video." Mineta laughed and gave Katsuki a condescending head pat.
Katsuki was thankfully allowed to pick his own outfit and diaper himself as Mineta was busy going though the fan requests that Katsuki had been giving, using Katsuki's laptop and also copying his login information. "If I go to log in later and you've changed the password.." The purple haired bastard had said, trailing off but his threat clear. "I won't daddy." Katsuki promised. Katsuki went with one of his teddy bear print diapers, with a blue back round and then picked out a tank top that was slightly too short and showed a little bit of belly so the diaper wasn't covered at all, Blue back round and a big teddy bear on the front. 'I might as well look stylish if I'm gonna be blackmailed.' Katsuki reason, and then opened up a locked drawer in his desk. inside was a selection of 5 different pacifiers and of course each one went with a outfit/ and or diaper print he had. So naturally he had a blue paci that had a teddy on the mouth guard and had a string of darker blue cord so he could wear it around his neck. (he'd tried using paci clip's with ribbon but had almost gotten busted when he'd caught his nipple with one and shrieked out in pain.) Finishing up the outfit was to no ones shock a pair of blue socks with a smiling bear on the ankles. "heh, adorable. So how much have you actually sunk into this? because getting a outfit that cute couldn't of been cheap if you had to get it mailed in." Mineta asked. "The uh.. first half dozen or so shows were all about shocking up supplies." Katsuki admitted then added. "There was one outfit a fan sent me along with 300 bucks to do a private video but I got nervous and trashed it." "Tsk, naughty naughty! what was it?" Mineta asked. "...A fairy costume, with winks and everything and a really short tutu. I just.. I wore it to do the video and then got rid of it, lying and said my mess had leaked on it while changing. the customer got mad and hasn't talked to me since and actually blocked me." Katsuki said, wishing he had kept his mouth shut. Actually he was wishing a lot of things at the moment to be fair. "I See, well thats a shame they blocked you. we'll have to get you a replica at some point so you can do a free video to make it up to them. I assume it's too late to go and get it out of the trash." Mineta said with a disappointed look on his face. "Y-yeah, that was 2 month's ago." Katsuki squeaked. "Hmm, do you have the video saved somewhere? I'd like to see it." "N-No..I just sent the clip to him and then..like i said, got paranoid and deleted it from my computer. I doubt he even kept it." Katsuki whimpered. "heh, actually I bet he just went and uploaded it onto a free porn site to show everyone the naughty sissy baby..But I'll look for it later." "I-I don't think he'd of done that! It would be breaking a rule an-" Katsuki started, he'd never thought of that possibly before and now was going semi pale. "If it's on the net, I'll find it. but as I said that's a matter for latter. for now I've picked out one of the fan requests that's been sent four times already but you've turned it down each time." Mineta said with a evil grin. Katsuki's gut dropped and he whimpered, already knowing what request it would be.  the fan in question was offering a tribute of a extra 200 bucks if the clip got made, but what they wanted was one of Katsuki's limits. A stroll in the halls in one of his baby outfits during the day. "W-We can't you have t-" Katsuki started to whimper but Mineta just gave him a evil smile. "Relax, if we're nice and fast about it, there's no way anyone will catch us..they're all out having fun, visiting their folks or studying in their dorms. Trust me, I don't want you busted and outed, then i lose my hold over you and end up a scorch mark on a wall." Mineta said. Katsuki huffed but had to admit Mineta had a point and they started to plan out how they were gonna do it.
25 minutes and one diaper change later (Katsuki's nerves had gotten to him) and the pervert was out in the halls, his camera phone set and gave a gentle cry of all clear to the door, then started to record. Katsuki poked his head out of his room, and looked around, then slowly walked out holding a series of smallish pieces of white cardboard and waddled down the hall closer to the camera and with his paci in his mouth, held them up to the camera. 'Hi! I'm a big silly stinky diaper boy, and right now I'm at school.' Katsuki counted down from 20 in his head then switched to the next card. 'I've been getting requests to show off my diaper butt in the halls during the day. it's Saturday so almost no one is here but still..' And he grimaced and suckled loudly looking around as he counted down then swapped card. 'I REALLY hope no one see's me in the halls like this! I'm kind of a bully and this would RUIN me!' ruin had 3 underlies under it and Katsuki scrunched up his face and squirms, and when it was time... 'But I feel so excited and naughty out in the halls like this! Thanks Meaniesitter_345 for the request!' putting the cards under one arm, Katsuki used the other hand to rub the front of his diapers and then walked away from the camera, going down to almost the end of the hall and coming back. He was gonna go and do the same for the other side of the hallway when some loud voices were heard. "Mannn i can't believe you got us kicked out of the arcade Hanta!" grumbled the voice of Mezou. "hey, that little bugger was hogging the machines, Somebody had to do something!" came Hanta's reply. Katsuki's eyes went wide in fright and he shot a look at Mineta who nodded and pointed for Katsuki's door, both of them rushing and barley getting in and slamming the door before the other other boys could round the corner and see them. laying against the door in case they tried it and both the baby and the perv panting, they could hear the boys keep arguing, only pausing to ask if the other smelled baby powder. "nah, we have to be imaging it. I mean, who wears baby powder around here?" "I dunno, Izuku cries a lot soo.." Both boys laughed and kept going.
'Almost busted in the halls' was uploaded a hour later after some minor editing and with in the first 15 minutes it had been viewed 70 times. with the clip only being a dollar and shot much better then his others it was going like hot cakes and the comments were pouring in, Katsuki was more popular then ever. 'LOL bet baby crapped himself when he was almost caught!' 'Boooo! you should of stayed in the hallway and let them see you!' 'Was anyone else hoping his door was gonna be locked? LOL' 'OMG your so cute!' 'Hey, how do I request a clip? do I just PM or what?' It was that last one that Mineta answered first, telling people to send all and all requests to the inbox, Blondie baby had a new manager who would make sure as many of them could filled as possible, though tributes would help push certain ideas over others. Katsuki for his part sat on the floor, hugging his stuffie and rocking back and forth a bit, hoping that Mineta wouldn't notice the slight smell coming from that wasn't going away. when he'd almost been caught he'd started to mess himself but had clamped his bowels down, and had been told to wait till 'daddy' was finished with the big boy computer stuff before asking permission to use the potty. His tummy was gurgling and it was getting harder and harder to hold his back door bomb in and he whined and whimpered around his paci as he suckled it, then waved one arm trying to get Mineta's attention from where the perv sat up on the bed, using Katsuki's laptop. "-Sigh- what is it Baby butt?" Mineta asked, a slight tone of annoyance in his voice though mentally he was delighted. It was pretty clear that the blond diaper bitch had at least started to fudge his huggies, even if Katsuki shook his head no every time he was asked if he had. 'just like the fucking big baby your dressed up as.' Mineta mused. "I-I gotta go poo poo!" Katsuki whined, having taken his paci out and whimpered. "it's gonna be a BIG one! Please let me use the potty!" Dropping his teddy bear, Katsuki knelled forward, both hands pressed together. "..Allllright..but only because I don't wanna change a shitty diaper. off you go." He said, smirking and jerking a thumb to the bathroom. Katsuki nodded and smiled and relaxed a bit, and moved to crawl into the bathroom.Sadly as it would turn out, relaxing was the last thing he should of done. He barley moved when a loud gurgle from his tummy was heard and Katsuki gasped and whimpered. "N-Nooo!" he whined and grabbed at his tummy while going face down and ass up in front of the bathroom door, about to load his diapers. Never one to pass up a opening like this, Mineta grabbed the phone and started to record as Katsuki loaded the seat of his diapers, blorting out the back of the teddy bear diaper and making them vanish. 'heh, This is gonna be SUCH easy money." Mineta thought, then the smell hit him and he wrinkled his nose. 'Maybe not as easy as I thought...'
the end for now.
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babyspiderling · 4 years ago
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Tiny Dancer p.2
"Just stare into space, picture my face in your hands. Live for each second without hesitation"
"Janet, you can't tell anyone about this." Michael tells her, focused on damage control. Janet fires back without hesitation. "The hell you mean I can't tell anyone? Marlon owes me ten bucks now." I roll my eyes, patting Michael on the back. "Mike,I'm sure your brothers are looking for you. I don't think we want anyone else listening in on this conversation anyways. I'll talk to Jan, ok?" He glances back and forth between his younger sister and I, a concerned look deep in his face. He sighs out an "Ok, fine." and heads back to his dressing room. I turn back to the youngest Jackson. "Listen Jan, I only want what's best for Mike. If it were up to him, and if the circumstances were different, you'd be the first to know on purpose. The world may be changing fast, but we've got a long way to go. The media would flip if word got out that The Michael Jackson was with not only his seamstress, but a white chick at that. Not to mention your father. God, he would kill us if he found out. He'd fire me and i'd never see Michael or any of you again." I deflate in front of her eyes, letting myself show vulnerability to the fifteen year old. "I really do love him Janet. I can't lose him, but I can't just let him risk losing his career over me. I'm the reason we're a secret. Michael is a glass half full person, always trusting and seeking out the positive, but I see what is going to happen if we enter the world of the limelight." When I look into her eyes, her head is cocked to the side, studying me. "Alright, I see where you're coming from. I know Joseph, and you're probably right. Just don't hurt Mike. He's my favorite after all." I nod, relieved that she understood where we are coming from. "I promise to tell you everything you want to know later ok? Maybe at the hotel or while I'm patching up something that the boys unsurprisingly ripped up." Janet giggles, and we make our way back to the rest of the group.
I lay down in the linen sheets of the hotel bed, needing to sleep to be able to get up in the morning to fix a couple of loose buttons and worn knees. I hold a pillow close to myself and let myself float away to dreamland.
The creaking of my door opening stirs me from my slumber. I prop myself up on my elbow, turning on the lamp. "Mike? What's going on?" He's in pajamas, and his hair is mussed. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, and murmurs out a "Couldn't sleep." I huff and fall back onto the bed. "Fine, get in here. You said so yourself that you sleep better with someone than alone. We've both got an early morning and it's already... 2 AM." His bare feet shuffle across the hotel carpet and the bed slightly creaks as he climbs in next to me. Once he's gotten comfortable, I lay my head on his chest and wrap an arm around him, succumbing to the exhaustion filling my bones.
I wake up to my alarm, letting myself give in to Michaels grip and the temptation to hit the snooze button and spend an extra few minutes in the warmth and security his arms provide. I snuggle close to him and doze off. Once again the door opens up, but I shrug it off, thinking it to be Janet. Instead of her girlish squeal of embarrassment, I hear a masculine shout of surprise. The sharp cry from Randy shocks us both awake. The second youngest Jackson wears an expression of both surprise and smugness. "I knew it! I knew something was going on between you two! Mike, my man, congrats. I knew you'd get her eventually. Now tell me, when did this all start out?" As Michael and I rubbed the sleep from our eyes, Randy had made himself comfortable on the small couch nearby, his chin in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. Groaning, I pull myself out of the bed, tugging my shirt down so I don't flash Randy. I pat Michaels shoulder and groan out: "You're taking this one. I talked to Janet last night and I have to get ready. Jackie tore his shirt last night and I've got to make him a new one. Who tears their shirt in the middle of their chest like that?" I sit on my heels to grab my things and head to the bathroom to get dressed.
Finished with make-up, I tie my hair back in a high ponytail. Combing through my hair, Michael enters to get ready himself. "So, how'd it go?" He shrugs a little and reaches for the extra toothbrushes the hotel offers. "Randy promised to keep it a secret until we tell everybody else. He was a little surprised that we've been together since Destiny. He thought it was a recent development, not a three year old relationship." Securing my hair one last time, I turn and smile at my lover. "Well, at this rate, Randy only has to keep it a secret for another 5 days. Go ahead and schedule out a lunch or something for your mother. I want her to know that I love her son more than anything else, and I don't want to keep him a secret anymore. But you have to promise me that if this whole thing goes wrong, your career comes first. You have worked your entire life for this, you are living your dream life, don't throw away your dream for me." He chuckles a bit, and rests his forehead against mine. "If this whole thing goes wrong, I'll hire you again myself. You'll be my personal costumer/seamstress. And no one will be able to get rid of you." I giggle and give a peck to his mouth. "Alright toothpaste lips, finish up and get back to your room. I'm sure you can't go to sound check in your pajamas. And send Janet and Randy back to me. I need her input on somethings and I'm sure Randy has more questions." He finishes up and goes back to his room, the two youngest Jacksons coming in not too much later.
"Alright guys, I'm gonna work some because that is what I'm here to do, but I can answer your questions at the same time." I lay out the fabric on the round table in the room as the two sat down on the couch. They both started talking at the same time, but stopped soon enough. Janet spoke first. "When did this start? How did this start?" I smile at the fabric and respond. "Even when I was growing up, I thought that Michael was the most handsome boy on the planet. But when I started working with you guys 4 years ago I decided to remain professional. This was my dream career and I would not jeopardize it over a celebrity crush. Michael and I became friends not long after, and I actually pushed him away in the beginning. I was so scared that either of us would get attached and it would risk our professional lives. During the music video for Shake Your Body, I was joking around with Marlon and Michael got all huffy. He ranted a little bit and ended up kissing me. It didn't take long until we started actually dating." I flip the fabrics so that the shirt is inside out and pin it together. I move to my machine, and Randy asks: "Why keep it a secret? It's not like anyone here doesn't like you?" I adjust the needle to where I need it and lower the presser foot. "Well, we as a society may have come a long way, but not everyone is going to agree with the fact that Michael Jackson, global superstar, chose to date his seamstress, and then the fact that it's a biracial relationship will send a whole other group into a frenzy. He worked so hard to be where he is, to live his dream, and I felt that if we released our relationship to the public, it could cause a lot of backlash his way. Plus I'm pretty sure that if Joseph found out about us, he'd see me as a distraction, turning his son against him. He'd fire me in an instant. I'd probably never be able to see any of you again. Now that it's suddenly impossible to keep us a secret anymore, we're going to tell Ms. Kathrine soon. Michael is going to schedule it today, and we'll tell her then." Once the two are done with their questions, Janet turns on the radio and we just have a good time until Randy needs to head to the venue. Janet and I finish up, double checking over everything before we accidentally forget anything at the hotel.
We make it to the venue early enough that we make it backstage, and I watch the boys rehearse and just do their thing. Randy meets my eyes from his place behind the bongos, and he sends me a wink. I make my way to the dressing rooms to replace what I fixed for the second night in New York. As I replace the red floral print shirt in Michael's dressing room, my lover walks in. His hair is a little wet from sweat and he has a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin. I giggle as he does his best to freshen up. "I'm glad you don't do sound check in costume. I'd have to make an outfit for every night of the tour, since you guys sweat so much." He sticks his tongue out at me, and then has a mischievous look in his eyes. He turns and creeps towards me, his arms wide to catch me if I tried to escape him. I back away slowly, "Michael, don't do this! I'm a nice person! I just took a shower!" I go to make a break for the door but he catches me and pulls me close, squeezing me tight and rubbing his sweaty face and body all over me. "Michael Joseph Jackson! I'm going to kill you! I'll put you in an outfit from '68!" He just giggles in my ear, enjoying my shrieks and squirms. "No you won't, you love me too much." I push at his arms, trying to get out of his grip. "Not anymore! Randy's my new favorite member!" He bites at my earlobe teasingly, his breath fanning over the shell of my ear, his voice dropping from the usual airy high pitch he speaks in. "Are you sure about that, girl?" I shiver and stutter at the distraction, "Fine, you called my bluff. Now can you please let me go? I need to know when we're telling your mother." Reluctantly, Michael loosens his grip enough for me to grab the towel he used, wiping my own skin down, and I rummage through my purse for my bottle of vanilla. Michael takes a seat and smiles at me. "Girl, you know I get hungry when you wear that stuff. Smelling all sweet and stuff." I chuckle and apply the vanilla to key points. "Tell you what. When we go out to tell your mother I will buy you any dessert you want after." I watch from the mirror as he lifts himself from his seat and slots himself behind me, his mouth close to my neck, and even closer to my ear. He gives a teasing squeeze to my backside and murmurs in my ear: "What if I want you to be my dessert?" I turn in his arms, and deliver a light slap to his shoulder. "Michael! What is with you? You've never been so... forward." He just chuckles and steps away. "Maybe I'm just excited I can finally show you off to everyone. Oh, and we're meeting Mother at lunch tomorrow. I've gotten a reservation for the three of us at Mortimer's. I heard they're really good." I nod and glance down at my wrist watch. "Oh, wow! I've got to make sure Jackie's shirt fits for tonight. Break a leg if I don't see you. And I'm excited to have lunch with your mother. I love you!" I give him a peck on his perfect lips and head out the door. Michael catches my wrist before I can leave and pulls me back to him, giving me a real kiss to make up for my quick peck. I giggle as we break away for oxygen. "Alright love machine, I seriously have to go." I hurry out of his dressing room and down to Jackie.
I've never been so nervous in my life. I have no reason to be nervous. Kathrine doesn't dislike me, in fact she and I have had amazing talks between fittings and shows. But maybe after she finds out that I've stolen her son's heart, her opinion of me will change? If she doesn't approve, will Michael leave me? He is an absolute mommas boy. "Babe, relax. Mother absolutely adores you, and I do too. Everything is going to be absolutely fine. I promise." Michael squeezes my thigh in reassurance, and I take a deep breath to calm myself down.
All three of us are seated at the table and our drinks are ordered. Michael holds my hand under the table, unsure himself how to start. "Mother, I have something to tell you, I am in love with the kindest, most beautiful woman in the world." Kathrine smiles a bit at this and urges her son to continue. "That's amazing honey. Who is it?" Michael and I glance at each other before Michael tells the Jackson Matriarch. "Well, Mother, it's Y/N. She and I have been together for almost 3 years now." There's a mix of emotions on her face, and she opens her mouth, trying to figure out what to say. "Well, Michael, honey, I am so happy you found someone. You deserve to be happy. I just can't understand why you wouldn't tell anyone for all that time." I sigh, opening my mouth. "Ms. Katherine, that's my fault. I wanted to keep our relationship under wraps because Michael has worked so hard to be where he is and I didn't want to be a reason for him to receive backlash. I also knew that Mr. Jackson eliminates any distractions for the boys. I know it sounds selfish, but I would have rather kept him my little secret and not have to give him up than show him off and risk losing not only my job, but the love of my life. I know now that telling you about our relationship is going to make Michael happy, and if his happiness means I am seen as a distraction and the consequences that go with it, so be it. I regret not telling you sooner, and for that I am truly sorry." Katherine listens the entire time with soft eyes, listening to every word I say. Michael grabs my hand on the table and gives it a proud squeeze. Once again Katherine opens her mouth and what she says next almost brings me to tears. "Oh, Y/N. understand. I see you truly care about my son, putting his career before your happiness, and then his happiness over your career. I know that that is not an easy decision, and it really shows just how much you care about him. Now, I won't sugar coat anything, but not everyone will approve of your relationship. A white woman and a black man together won't be the easiest thing for people to accept but you have to remember that it is your happiness, no one else's." I felt like all the weight had been lifted off my shoulders after that. We ate lunch and enjoyed the streets of New York. After Katherine had gotten into her car, I turned to Michael. "Alright, what do you want for dessert?" Pulling me into the back of the car, he placed me in his lap. "Hmm, something sweet, a little spicy... I'll have... you."
Taglist: @accio-boys​
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sleepywinchester · 5 years ago
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Fool For You Pt. 3 ⏤ Oscar Díaz.
Summary:  You are back in your hometown Freeridge to take care of your sister Jasmine and your father after being away for six years. You left Freeridge looking for a better life but in that process you had to let go of someone you loved. But you’re back and things are not the same but they sure feel like it.
Words: 2,500+
Warnings: Angst 
A/N: Hola!!!! Happy Easter Loves! Hope you guys had a good one today even though *coughs* the virus. This one is a bit more fluff turned into angst real quick.  If you like this, please consider leave some feedback? Love to hear you guys thoughts *.*    | MESSAGE BOX |
(english is not my first language, might be some typos around)
Chapters: Uno - Dos 
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The sunlight peeked through the white curtains of the window. Your eyes fluttered open softly glancing to the soft orange colors of the sunrise. Waking up in this bliss made you smile. It was like for a short moment you were living in your own fantasy, the one that you weren’t brave enough to say out loud but deep down you always wanted. You admired the view for a little more until the sounds of movement in your small kitchen caught your attention.
Softly shifting your body to the left, you saw the number one reason for all your fantasies these days. You propped your head on top of your hand, having a better look at Oscar and the way he moved his body to the sides and his head bumped softly up and down listening to a rap song that was low enough only for him to listen. He didn’t want to wake you up. 
He was shirtless wearing only grey sweatpants that rested right on top of his hips. You could see his lower back dimples and you could picture how his bones formed a V would look from the front. 
“Ma’, I can feel your eyes all up my ass,” Oscar’s accent made your skin tingle. He said that without looking back as he kept cutting something on the counter. 
You chuckled, “I mean…” your head tilted admiring his attributes, “It is a good ass.” 
The muscles of his back flexed as he chuckled. You were attracted to every inch of this body but you had to admit, his back was one of your favorite spots to kiss. Oscar had become a constant visitor almost every night in the past couple months.
As you continued to watch him cook you reminisced of the times he used to say he wanted to be a professional chef. In High School you guys had so much dreams to fulfill. You also thought about all the encounters you had with him over the past months and how many of them ended up with him cooking something, either that be breakfast or sometimes dinner. 
You’ve spent most of your late nights and early mornings with Oscar but all of it hiding from everyone, from Santos, from your family and from the neighborhood. When this first happened you told him you wanted to keep it a secret from everyone. If you told everyone you were dating Oscar, it would bring so many questions and you didn’t want to deal with the answers. 
Months ago you were mad at him for throwing his brother out of the house. Until he told you the reasons and why Cuchillos the shot caller made him but that didn’t make it right. You wanted him to come to reason and have his brother back but he wouldn’t have it. His loyalty to Cuchillos and the Santos went above everything and everyone, even his own blood and deep down it scared you. Since that argument talking about gang business was banned from conversations, just because every time either one talked about it, it ended up in a fight. 
Instead of focusing on his lifestyle and where his loyalties lied, you focused on him and on how he made you feel. Oscar turned his body around, your eyes roaming his naked chest. As your eyes went down, they spotted your kitchen towel hanging from his pant line, just like a professional chef. You chuckled softly looking at the vibrant pink lemons print on the towel.
He glanced down, seeing what you saw and arched an eyebrow, “Muy chistosa.”
“I haven’t said a word…” you sat, his eyes going down to your chest. Following his glance you remembered you were completely naked from the night prior. “Cochino.”
Oscar shrugged proudly, sitting down next to you on the edge of the bed. “Try this,” he had a cracker and some type of food on top of it on his hand and he fed it to you. Without asking you opened and ate it. He watched you close your eyes at the deliciousness of his cooking. “¿Rico?”
Instantly you nodded in complete agreement, “Tuna?” 
“Yep,” he sucked his thumb, “plus some spices and shallots” 
“It’s good,” you licked your lip, leaning forward. “Gourmet.” 
Gently he caressed your chin, leaning in and kissing your lips. There was intimacy in that morning kiss. “Buenos días, preciosa.” His soft morning kiss made you smile. 
“Morning,” you placed another quick kiss on his lips before standing up. 
He grabbed the cigarette from his earlobe and placed it on his mouth. You smirked grabbing the lighter from your nightstand and flicking it. The flame busted and you lit his cigarette. You watched him inhale from the cigarette as he locked eyes with yours. Oscar let out the cloud of smoke, you took a deep breath in. 
“¿Quieres?” He arched his eyebrow taking another drag in. 
You waited for him to finish the drag and just when he was going to exhale the smoke, leaning forward inhaling it in. “I gotta hit the shower,” you stood up from the bed. 
His eyes were piercing on your ass, teasingly you slapped your gluts walking down. “Are you going to sit there all sonso (dumb) or join me?” you turned to look at him all seductive, “Biatch.”
Oscar flashed a devilish smirk standing up and pulling the bright towel off his sweatpants and getting rid of his clothes as he followed your steps into the shower. He watched you through the shower glass, hot water running through your body. Turning around your eyes met with his lust filled eyes. Smirking, you ran your fingers through your wet hair, watching him get inside. He took a last long drag before throwing the rest of his cigarette in the hand wash. 
You chuckled, “You better pick that shit up after we are done.” 
The shower was small making your body be close to his. Your body temperature began to get warmer the longer he admired your nakedness. His hand touched your waist, gripping tightly, “You know I love it when you’re so fucking bossy?” Oscar’s voice was deep and seductive. 
Wrapping your hands around his neck, you pushed him into a wet and full of passion kiss. He returned the kiss with the same intensity. You took a pause and watched him breathe heavily, “I know.” 
/ / / 
Walking out of the bathroom with a robe on, you rolled your wet hair into a towel and placed it on top of your head. You reached the kitchen counter and ate another of the gourmet crackers with tuna that Oscar had made. 
He walked out with a towel wrapped low around his hips. “Gotchu,” Oscar whispered, hugging you from the back, pressing his body onto you and your body pressed against the counter. You grabbed one of the crackers and fed it to him. “Fuck, I’m good.” He praised himself.
“Show off,” you turned.
Oscar chuckled for a bit as he chewed to his creation. He seemed so happy. There were so many thoughts in the back of your mind as you gazed at him. There was so much history between you and Oscar. So much had happened in the last six years of being apart. 
“You good, ma’?” he took a step back but your bodies were still close to each other. 
“Mhm,” you nodded brushing the thoughts away.
You were standing between his both strong arms. He clenched his jaw with a small smirk on his lip, “So… Tonight. Got any plans?”
“Aside from doing more of this,” you kissed his lips, “when I come back from the school dance. Nope, nada, mi amor.”
He smirked, leaning for another kiss. “School dance? The Annual Valentine's dance?”
Nodding you grabbed another cracker, “Yep. “ You mumbled as you chewed, “Coach Ronald is making me be his co-chaperone.”
“Wanna ditch it and go to the beach?” He asked.
Your head dropped backwards, “I wish but I am the newbie so I gotta do it. If not those viejitas won’t let me be.”
Oscar clenched his jaw, “Are they giving you a hard time?”
“Not really,” you told him, “they’re just old and bitter.”
He nodded softly, “How about tomorrow? Any plans mama?” 
You squinted looking at his face and trying to figure out what he was thinking. “Are you trying to get me on a Valentine’s date?”
Licking his lower lip, he shrugged, “Guilty. Just trying to spend some quality time with my girl. That’s all.” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle, wrapping both arms around his neck and kissing his lips. “We can do something tomorrow. Meet and get out of Freeridge for a couple hours.”
“I’ll pick you up here,” he said.
“You know that can’t happen,” you told him, “too many eyes.”
Oscar sighed harshly glancing to the side, “I’m tired of hiding, Y/N.”
His words pierced into you like sharp knives. “I-,” you sighed, looking into his eyes, “we’ve already talked about this, Oscar. My family and your family can’t know we are together and neither is the neighborhood.”
“Are you ashamed of me?” He spat, his eyes starting to get clouded with anger. 
“What?” you looked him in the eye, not believing he’s asking you that. 
He backed away and stood tall in front of you with both arms crossed onto his chest. “Dime, are you ashamed of me and who I am?”
You took a step forward trying to reach his arm but he backed away. “Oscar I am not ashamed of you. How can you even say that?”
“How can’t I? It’s been months, Y/N and we are still with this hiding shit. I’m tired of it. I want to be with you inside these walls and outside of them. I want you to be with my family, hell - I even want to be with your family but you won’t let me. You don’t let me in.”
“I don’t let you in?” you cocked an eyebrow. 
Oscar shook his head, taking a couple steps in forward. “No estoy aquí,” he gently touched your head. “And I don’t know if I’m actually here,” he then touched your heart, “at least not like it was before.”
Oscar’s words left you speechless as he got dressed and walked away. Oscar was hurt, you could see it in the way his eyebrows were furrowed and his body was so tense. You could hear it in his voice. 
/ / / 
Millions of mixed up feelings also traveled around your mind as well as Oscar words. You cared about him so much and daily he was the only person you could think about but it wasn’t that simple. His life, his gang, everything could change in one snap and you didn’t know if you could deal with all of that. You felt safe with him but you weren’t sure about everything else that came with his life.
“Sis?” Jasmine pulled you away from your thoughts. You were in the school gym watching all the teenagers dancing and having a great time. 
“Yeah?” you took a sip of the punch, wishing it was spiked. 
Jasmine squinted, noticing there was something wrong with you. “Everything okay?”
“Si,” you took another mouthful, still scanning through the crowd carelessly, “just trying to make sure no one sticks it in tonight.” 
“Bullshit,” she spat standing in front of you, “there’s something wrong.”
You glared at her and said with sass, “Jasmine - I am okay, go back to your friends.”
“Is it about Oscar? Are you guys fighting?”
When she mentioned him you stood straight and took a deep breath in. Her eyes were showing you how much she cared and that she wanted to help. “Why should I be fighting with Oscar? Haven’t seen the man in weeks.” 
“Now that’s some bullshit,” Jasmine said with cockiness, “I know you guys are boning.”
You cocked an eyebrow trying to fake she was in the wrong. “I’m not with Oscar.”
Jasmine raised her phone showing a picture of you two kissing on your bed. “Like I said, bullshit.” Quickly you tried to grab the phone but she was fast and pulled it backwards. “Let’s try this again, what’s wrong?”
Sighing, you shook your head, “We got into a fight this morning.”
“About?”
“He says I’m not letting him in…” you looked around.
Jasmine shrugged, “I mean - he ain’t wrong.”
You glared at her, “Jasmine you don’t know shit about my situation with Oscar.”
“It's true, I don’t know shit because you won’t tell me shit but what I know is that you two dated in high school. Then you left and broke his poor cholo heart.” 
You sucked your teeth glancing away for a second before regaining your focus on Jas. 
“You got him sneaking in like a freaking teenager! Always leaving his car at his house and sneaking through the back. It’s been months,” Jasmine told you.
“And here I thought I was fooling you.” 
Jasmine smiled proudly, “No. You know who you need to stop trying to fool?”
“Who?” you looked at her eyes.
She caressed your chin, “Yourself. Tell him how you really feel and fuck everyone else.”
“What about his affiliations?” you asked. 
“I don’t know much about relationships or Spooky but I know this, he would never put you in danger. He scares the hell out of everyone but that guy? He is a ride or die and he loves you, mana.”
“You’ve been peeping through my window a lot haven’t you?” 
She shrugged smiling like the mischief she is, “Got a couple videos if you want them.”
“Walk away,” you pointed to the crowd and she quickly ran to her friends.
As much as you wanted to be in the right about the whole situation your teenage sister was right. Oscar would never put you in danger and he would always protect you. Grabbing your cell phone out of your purse, you found his name in your contact list. 
Taking a deep breath you wrote “Perdón por todo lo que dije hoy. Can we please talk?” You contemplated the words on the screen for a moment and felt how your heartbeat rose. Oscar was a man with a strong character and high pride, you honestly did not know if he’d reply or just ignore the text. You wished to God for him to reply, you wanted to see him and tell him how you really felt.
PART FOUR 
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stereksecretsanta · 4 years ago
Text
Merry Christmas, obsessedbutonline!
For @obsessedbutonline, who listed fluff, angst, and ‘Derek giving Stiles gift’ as a few ‘Likes’. I hope I did those items justice. Hope you have a wonderful Christmas, Friend!
Read On AO3
*****
The Gift
The gift. He supposed it all started with the gift. Or maybe Star Trek. Derek wasn’t sure. It was Stiles, after all. One day, the younger man had been debating the cuddle rating of a Tribble, before diving into an analysis of The Voyage Home being one of the worst movies in franchise history (except for the whales, of course), and the next thing Derek knew, he’d found himself discussing how Moby Dick was one of his favorite books. The random jumps from one topic to another hadn’t been anything new for Stiles, but that had also been the year they’d legitimately gotten ‘together’ after their contentious circling of each other’s orbits, so when Derek had opened an inelegantly wrapped early edition of the novel on that first Christmas as a couple, he’d been rendered speechless.
He couldn’t remember how long he’d stared at the leather-bound copy exactly, but he did recall feeling a bout of inadequacy. He thought he’d hid it well though. “Stiles – “ he’d started. “I wasn’t expecting…This is too much.”
Stiles had shrugged like it hadn’t been a big deal, an eager grin on his face. “Nah, it wasn’t too bad. A classmate mentioned a prof who needed an assistant to help translate some Latin verses, and I thought I’d check it out. When I went, I noticed a copy of Moby Dick in his office, and you’d mentioned it was one of your favorites, so I offered my translation services for free if he would sell the book for a discounted price.”
Of course, Stiles had remembered that weird detail from a throwaway conversation. And of course, he’d been resourceful in procuring it. That was just who Stiles was. Now, Derek, on the other hand… well, he’d felt completely out of his league when he’d pulled out the gift card he’d picked up a day earlier from a comic book store. He hadn’t even known if that was a store Stiles ever visited. He really sucked at gift-giving. “Sorry, I didn’t …”
Stiles had yanked it out of his hands before he’d even finished. “I love it. Thanks, Derek!” The younger man had beamed excitedly, clutching that cheap piece of plastic in his hands as if he’d just received some personal heirloom. There had been no uptick in the man’s heartrate, so there’d been no lie in those words, but that hadn’t stop Derek from feeling bad.
And it was then that he had resolved to do better, that he would be thoughtful and meticulous in his gift selection the next time Christmas rolled around. Stiles deserved as much.
But he’d mentioned he was bad at gift-giving, right? As in, monumentally bad. Because the next Christmas, when they’d settled down on his couch after an intimate holiday dinner he’d prepared for the two of them, Stiles had presented him with a charmingly wrinkled gift bag. And when he’d pulled out a lovingly restored and framed photograph of his family from before the fire, he’d not only felt a slight lump in his throat at the sentiment, he’d also felt remarkably small and completely lacking in comparison. It was a good thing they’d come to a mutual understanding that their birthdays would be a no-gift zone, because Derek wasn’t sure he could’ve handled double the inferiority complex this time of year.
“I found a copy of the photo from the digital archives of the town newspaper. It was for some fundraiser committee your mom chaired, I think. I saved a copy, and googled around for some pointers on how to increase the resolution so I could print out a decent version of it,” Stiles had explained.
Derek had nodded absently, his fingers lightly tracing the curve of his mother’s face under the cool glass. His whole family had stared back at him, carefree and unburdened in the moment that photo had been taken, eyes all shiny from a sunny afternoon picnic. “Yeah, I remember. It was a Pets in the Park fundraiser for the local animal shelter.” There had been an ache in the pit of his stomach at the reminder of everything he’d lost, but it wasn’t as sharp as it had once been. Now, it had been dulled by time, and tempered by the meaningful relationships he’d found, foremost of which was the one with the man beside him. “Thank you,” he’d said slowly, slightly surprised that his voice hadn’t cracked at the pool of emotion swirling within him.
“Anytime, big guy.” Stiles had leaned in, his weight and warmth freely offered as a source of silent strength.
But when he’d pulled out his gift for Stiles, he had had that sinking feeling of failing an important test. He hadn’t even had time to wrap it properly, opting to place a haphazard bow on it instead. “Sorry, I didn’t know …”
Stiles had grabbed the cellophane-covered box with a puzzled expression. “A bath set?” he’d asked slowly. “Is this your way of telling me I stink?”
There had been amusement in the younger man’s tone, devoid of upset or disappointment, but that hadn’t stopped Derek from feeling upset and disappointed in himself. After Stiles had gone through all the trouble of giving him such a personal and meaningful gift, he’d reciprocated with … soap. “Remember when you were on break during Thanksgiving,” he’d started to explain. “That necromancer problem we had?”
“Oh, damn, do I ever! We spent the whole night trying to wash zombie goo out of bodily crevices I never knew I had!” Then, realization had set in as those rich brown eyes widened. “This is perfect, Derek! Thank you!” And just like that, Stiles had fallen on him with his usual gracelessness, and proceeded to express his ‘gratitude’ properly.
That had been last year. But this time around, right before Stiles had returned to campus for his final two semesters of college, Derek had stumbled upon the ideal Christmas gift, while they were cleaning, of all things. They’d been packing up and storing some of Stiles’ stuff before the younger man headed back to school when they’d gotten diverted by some dusty, old boxes in the Sheriff’s attic. Somehow, in the way of procrastination, they’d ended up flipping through old photo albums when Stiles had paused to tell him about a picture of his mother.
“Oh, there’s the locket my dad helped me buy for Mother’s Day when I was eight,” Stiles had said as he’d pointed to a picture of Claudia Stilinski, vivacious and beaming brightly at the camera. Anyone could see where Stiles had gotten his smile. “I didn’t have the greatest taste in jewelry, so it doesn’t look like much, but she was so excited when she got it. She wore it all the time.”
“It’s nice that you have a memento to remember her by,” Derek had supplied.
Stiles’ shoulders had slumped a little at the comment. “Yeah, I think we accidentally sold it during a garage sale not long after she died. Dad wasn’t exactly in the best place, and he just wanted to get rid of the memories because they hurt so much back then. Lots of regret now. Who knows? It might’ve found another home, or it might be in a garbage dump somewhere.”
And that comment had led him down the winding, convoluted path to where he was now: standing in front of a teenage girl with bright blue hair and an eclectic ensemble of a loose plaid shirt, artfully ripped leggings, and combat boots.
“A hundred bucks,” the girl re-stated, her tone indicating that this wasn’t a negotiation.
“One hundred? The pawn shop owner said you only paid five dollars for it.” He could be stubborn too, though deep down, he knew he wasn’t really in a position of power in this situation, much as that rankled him.
Ms. Blue-hair shrugged. “So? If you want it that bad, then you should be willing to pay for it.”
She had him there. Three months of diligently interviewing the Stilinski neighbors, and following a trail of multiple goodwill and pawn shops had led him to that very locket hanging from the girl’s neck, that very locket Stiles had shown him in that old photo of his mother. He gave the teen what Stiles had laughingly termed his ‘murder-brow’ look and pulled out his wallet. Of course, he would pay, especially after all the work he’d put into tracking it down, and because this was for Stiles. He didn’t have to like being swindled like this though.
“That’s a nice jacket, by the way.”
Derek looked up from pulling out the cash and froze. He glared at the girl, hoping the intensity of his stare would deter whatever she was about to insinuate. It didn’t work.
“No,” he said flatly as she watched him expectantly.
“Okay, I guess we’re done here then. Nice meeting you.” And with that, she turned and started to walk away.
Derek ground his teeth together to keep from outright growling and fought hard to not wolf out. He hated being bested like this. Life would’ve been so much simpler if he could just take the damned piece of jewelry by force and run off with it. Stupid morals.
“Fine,” he conceded with a clenched jaw after she’d managed to walk several feet away.
She turned with a triumphant smile as he started to shrug off his leather jacket. When he held it out with the wad of cash, she unclasped the chain without any further objections and handed it over. “Pleasure doing business with you, sir.”
(***)
Stiles’ name flashed on his lock screen just as he was pulling up to his loft.
“Hey, you back already?” he answered as he shifted his car into park. His regular visits to Stanford notwithstanding, he’d been anticipating Stiles’ winter break for a while, and the timing couldn’t have worked out any better with him finding the locket when he had. “I was going to pick you up tonight after you’ve had a few hours with your dad.”
Several seconds of heavy breathing greeted his words, and almost instantly, he was on alert, muscles tensing and heartrate increasing. “Stiles?”
“Yeah, Derek, I’m here,” a familiar voice sounded through the phone. “Sorry, just had to get around Scott to check something out. But no, I’m not home yet. Got sidetracked on my way into town. Can you come to the preserve right now? The trail just off Parsons. We’ve got, um, a problem.”
Since his return to Beacon Hills, the supernatural activity in the area had decreased significantly, especially with a solid pack established in the area now, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t the occasional run-in with creatures bringing in death and mayhem. This sounded like one of those times. Shifting gears into reverse, he responded without hesitation, “On my way.”
The trip to the preserve was quick, the route having been travelled so many times that he could probably drive it eyes closed. After parking in the lot off Parsons, he picked up Stiles’ scent almost immediately, along with a few others of the pack, and had no problems tracking the source down a few hundred feet off a popular running path.
Not surprisingly, Scott noticed him first, looking up from a patch of tall grass and nodding in greeting as Derek silently approached. Stiles stood more out in the open, back turned and head down as he tapped busily on his phone. Once upon a time, his quiet ‘stalking’ would’ve caused a flailing of limbs and a high-pitched yelp from the younger man, but of the familiarity borne from the years of closeness, Stiles simply turned, smiled, and greeted him with a warm ‘hey’ as if he’d known he was there the whole time. And all things considered, he probably had.
They’d never been a couple for overt displays of affection, but the way Stiles unconsciously leaned toward him, trusting and open, worked just as well in telling Derek how the other man felt. He usually did the same, subtly breathing in the scent of his boyfriend and feeling more settled in his presence. They hadn’t seen each for a couple of weeks, and he’d missed having Stiles near.
“What’s going on?” he asked, looking around for the rest of the pack. Their scents were fainter, which meant they had been here recently, but had likely wandered off or left altogether.
“It’s Christmastime in Beacon Hills, so the usual. Y’know, carolers, Santa parades, sleigh rides, tidings of comfort and joy, and oh yeah, witches.”
Derek had never been bothered by Stiles’ sarcasm, though he wouldn’t openly admit that if asked about their first encounters with each other, but now, he found the trait rather endearing. “So, we’re dealing with a witch. How bad?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out. I was driving back into town when I saw a kid running across the road. Freaked me out, and barely stopped in time. When I went to check on him, he was crying and said an old woman had tried to take him. At first, I thought it was an attempted kidnapping, but then, he said that there was a lot of screaming coming from her big bag, and he was scared of getting stuffed in there with all the other kid. For this town, that triggered alarm bells. Stuffing kids into bags and lugging them around is not your regular run-of-the-mill kidnapper MO. I called my dad, and he came out here with a few units, but is running interference on the supernatural front. He’d mentioned that this was the third attempted kidnapping this month, so the deputies are on high alert. They still think it’s a regular human predator, so they’re canvassing the other side of the preserve right now, which means we can do our own investigation here. I called Scott, and the others are now fanned out, doing a search to see if we can catch a scent.”
“No luck yet,” Scott added as he strode over to join them. “Just a whole bunch of the usual smells, and with the people that use the running trails, it’s hard to pinpoint a specific one. We’re not exactly sure what we’re looking for.”
“I think I have a lead though.” Stiles held out his phone to show an etching of a stooped crone with a large sack. “We might have an Icelandic witch in the area, one that kidnaps and eats children, but I’m not a hundred percent. I hope I’m not right because … well, children! But she’s supposed to be active around Christmas. I need to double-check some books at my house to make sure though.”
Derek nodded, not surprised that Stiles had pretty much figured it out already. As human as Stiles was, he was arguably one of the pack’s most valuable assets, and truth be told, Derek felt quite proud of the other man’s quick wit and life-saving accomplishments. “So, you need to go home then?”
Stiles made a sound of agreement as he tucked his phone away and gave him an apologetic look. No words were needed to communicate how sorry he was that their reunion wasn’t what they’d planned.
“Okay, call us with any info,” Scott chimed in. “Derek and I will probably be more useful if we keep scouting the area. This is children we’re talking about. I don’t want anymore of them put in danger.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Alpha leader, sir,” Stiles replied jokingly, giving his friend a mock salute.
The years had matured Scott somewhat, enough that the erstwhile werewolf took his role and responsibilities somewhat seriously now. And for this, Derek was grateful.
Scott gave Stiles a shove to get him on his way, before shaking his head with a laugh and started to move back to the tall grass he’d been searching through earlier. “Go, you idiot.”
Stiles responded with the very mature gesture of sticking out his tongue. Then, Derek felt the younger man’s arm wrap lightly around his waist and pull him close for a quick kiss. The motion was casual, natural, and one that Derek returned without thought. “Sorry, not what we’d planned when I got back, huh? Let’s catch this witch fast so we can start our Christmas cuddle session, ‘kay?”
Derek raised an eyebrow at the comment. His boyfriend sure did have a way with words sometimes. “Christmas cuddle?”
“Hey, it is what it is.” Stiles shrugged innocently as he started to move away.
“I’m not calling it that.”
“Suit yourself, Sourwolf, but I’ve officially labelled it, and you can’t take that away from me,” Stiles said as he walked backwards toward the nearby trail. Derek half-expected him to trip on some invisible rock in the next few seconds. “Gonna say it all I want!”
He rolled his eyes as the younger man’s antics. “Go.”
“Christmas cuddle! Oh, and far be it for me to complain about seeing you in that t-shirt, but you do know it’s winter, right? We may live in California, and you may have some super-awesome internal wolfy furnace going, but I’m cold just looking at you. Where’s your jacket?”
“Go!” While he didn’t feel the chill as acutely, he didn’t need to be reminded about his fleecing by a greedy, blue-haired teenager.
After Stiles wave his acknowledgement and jogged out of sight, Derek turned back to join Scott. Their relationship may have started out roughly, but they’d fallen into a companionable pattern over the last few years. It was likely because of everything Scott had been through and his maturation, but Derek guessed part of it may have been out of respect for both their relationships with Stiles. Without much preamble, they quickly sectioned off their respective search zones, and fanned out into the thicker parts of the preserve. Derek had grown up here, had run and played amongst the trees and foliage so often that walking through it now stirred a sense of homecoming. Still, sometimes, there were things here that could still surprise him. Like the odd whiff of fear and panic he caught a few minutes after he’d split off from Scott. It was faint, probably non-existent for the newer wolves, but it was there, so out of place with the earthy scent of moss and soil. He started to follow it, his senses sharpening as he homed in on the potential prey. He hadn’t made much progress before he heard a howl off in the distance, and his entire body tensed, ready for action.
They’d found something!
Once he pinpointed the source, he was off, dashing through branches and over roots with a surety of stride that had been acquired from a lifetime of running these woods. He didn’t get very far though. He heard it first, a loud symphony of disembodied laughter all around him. Before he could stop and confront whatever it was, he caught a flutter of movement in his periphery, and then, he was flying, thrown through the air by an impact harder than anything in recent memory. He was out cold before he even landed.
(***)
He wasn’t unconscious for long. At least, he didn’t think he was, given that generations of werewolf evolution had refined his healing abilities to the point where he shouldn’t be. But however long it was, it was enough to find himself strapped to a board – or a crude table, perhaps – staring up at the flickering shadows of a stone ceiling. Or a cave? He honestly hated losing time like this and waking up in unexpected places, which, given who he was and where he lived, was an actual occupational hazard.
A whimper somewhere to his left drew his attention just then, and he tilted his head at an uncomfortable angle to take better stock of where he was, and with whom. Just within his field of vision, he could barely make out a small figure sat huddled inside a primitively constructed cage no higher than his hip. A wood fire burned beneath a big vat just a few feet away, thoroughly heating up whatever was inside if the bubbling sound was any indication.
“Hey,” he said quietly, if a little hoarsely, hoping the hunched figure would shift enough into the firelight for him to make out who it was.
The figure shuffled over, and Derek could see the tear-streaked face of a boy, probably no more than eight or nine years old. Stiles had said there’d been attempted kidnappings. It looked like one had succeeded.
“H-hello? You’re awake.”
“Yeah, I am.” He wasn’t good with children, barring the few cousins he’d played with when he was younger, yet that had been different. They’d been family. He knew this kid was scared, could hear it in the tremor of his voice and smell it in the dankness of the air, but he wasn’t sure what he could say to help with that. “I’m Derek. What’s your name?”
“A-Andy.”
“Well, Andy, if you give me a minute, we can get out of here and I’ll take you back to your parents.” He tried to sound reassuring, though he wasn’t sure it worked as well as he’d intended when he was tugging and testing the thick ropes tied around his chest, waist, and legs. They were tight, but he managed to slide a hand free enough to shift and start slicing away at the restraints with his claw.
“Just Mom,” the boy said quietly. “Dad left.”
“Okay, we’re going to find your mom then. I’m sure she’s really missing you right now.” He figured that keeping a calm tone and easy conversation going was as good a plan as any while he worked on the ropes.
Andy shuffled a little in his cage, his face dipping down again into the shadows cast by the nearby fire. “She’s working. She’s always working. She promised I’d get to see Dad, but she couldn’t take me, so I went to find him myself.”
Which might explain why the boy hadn’t been reported missing yet. There was some give to the rope by his right hip, so he tilted his head and tried to look over at the boy and hoped he properly projected the sincerity of his words. “That doesn’t mean she’s not missing you, Andy. I know she’s probably very worried. She – “
The stench assaulted him first, sour and rancid, before he felt the whole space shake with a reverberating thud. Andy quickly scooted back into the corner of his cage with a scared squeak, leaving Derek to turn and search out the source in the dim light. An old woman came into view near the foot of his table, posture bent and face haggard, each of her steps sending tiny shockwaves through the cave. Her long, gray hair hung in a greasy, unkempt mess, framing a crooked nose and a gap-toothed, mirthless grin. She resembled the picture Stiles had shown him on his phone, but the younger man had neglected to mention one thing. She was a fucking giant!
The whole cave suddenly felt cramped, and her looming presence caused his heartrate to spike. He worked faster on his ropes.
“Good dog. You’re too old and gristly for my liking, but if my lads want a pet, a pet they will get,” she said in a voice deeper than he’d expected. She patted his stomach dismissively as she passed, and he fought hard not cry out at the jarring, painful contact. “Now, where’s my little snack? Little boy for a little snack. Little boy snack.” She cackled at her own wit.
He heard Andy whimper again as the old, giant crone ambled her way over to the cage, and he wanted to tell the boy to be brave, to hold on because he was almost through his rope. Yet, as he was about to do just that, he caught the scent of metal and electricity in the air. It cut through the myriad of other unpleasant smells like an olfactory beacon, clear and crisp and a harbinger of something – or someone – familiar. He couldn’t help but smile a little at the arrival of the calvary, even as Andy shrieked when the witch pulled him roughly from the cage and shuffled over to the boiling pot.
Then, several things happened at once. First, voices that sounded like the disembodied laughter he’d heard earlier came from somewhere outside. This time, however, they were shouting out in distress, intermingled with the familiar voices of his pack. The cries gave the witch pause for a split second, just as he cut through the last of his restraints and pulled free. After that, he was up and leaping through the air, aiming to get Andy free of the old woman’s clutches and away from the fire. And he managed just that, wrapping his arms around the boy as he clawed at the large hand that held him. But he underestimated the reaction speed of the crone, and barely managed to turn his body to shield Andy before her other hand swatted his side. He landed with bone-cracking impact against the boiling pot, adrenalin enhancing his movements as he rolled quickly to avoid landing on the fire or getting splattered by the hot liquid in the toppling vat. He was pretty sure he’d probably cracked a few ribs, but they were already healing. Andy seemed none the worse for wear when he looked down, unhurt and safe in his arms still.
“My boys! What are they doing to my boys?” the witch wailed.
Derek tensed briefly, thinking the giantess would take her surprise and anger out on him. He readied himself for a fight, but instead, she turned and marched the other way, he and Andy seemingly forgotten. He eased himself up with a barely suppressed groan, and let the small body pressed against his chest slide down to his lap. He could hear the pack outside, the growls of the wolves and the foreign-sounding chants from Stiles, and he knew that they had it handled.
“You okay?” he asked as he gave Andy a good once-over.
The boy simply nodded, his whole body still trembling. Then, without a word, he leaned forward and hugged Derek as if his life depended on it. Not sure how else to respond, Derek hugged the child back.
That was how Stiles found them a few minutes later when he stumbled clumsily into the cave. After some coaxing, they both managed to talk Andy into finally letting go. Scott took it from there, coming in to take the boy away to find the Sheriff, who had been called to the area when Stiles had triangulated Derek’s location. Stiles waited a moment after Scott had left before he turned and threw himself into Derek’s arms.
“Oh, thank every deity I just prayed to you’re okay. Had me worried.”
Derek squeezed the warm, lithe body clinging to him like an octopus, and bent down to briefly nuzzle his partner’s neck. He breathed in the fortifying scent that was simply Stiles and used it to ground himself after the crazy events that had just happened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’m fine.”
“I know. You’re one tough son of a bitch, but the uncertainty always gets me.” Stiles pulled away and gave him a look with those ridiculously wide Bambi-like eyes that made Derek’s insides go warm. “And of course, you would go all superhero and save a child while we saved you. With the way the boy was holding on to you, I thought you’d replaced me with a cuter, newer model.”
Derek quirked up his lip into a lopsided, half-smile. “Never,” he returned easily. “If I did, I would at least try to get a good trade-in price for you.”
“Smartass.” As his comeback, Stiles smacked his arm with the back of his hand. He then slipped said hand into Derek’s, intertwined their fingers, and started walking out of the cave. “See if I ever send baddies back through an intercontinental gate for you again.”
“So, she wasn’t a witch?” Derek asked as he followed Stiles’ lead out of the cave
“Oh, no, she was a witch. The giantess witch, Gryla, and her sons, the Yule Lads. I don’t know how they got here, but I was working off of some quick and dirty research, so the best I could do was track down caves in the area, which is what the literature says she tends to favor, and find a spell to send her back to her native Iceland.”
Derek silently listened as Stiles explained what had happened, both grateful and proud – and not for the first or last time either – at the quick wit and resourcefulness of the guy he got to call his. They eventually emerged from the cave, and he immediately felt lighter the moment he could smell the fresh earth and foliage again. The sun was beginning to set, creating lengthening shadows of the redwoods and the oaks that stood like sentinels around them. And with that came a distinct chill in the air. He felt Stiles shiver at the lower temperature, and wished he’d had his jacket around to offer the other man. The jacket that he’d exchanged for …
With his free hand, he reached into his jeans pocket where he’d tucked the locket earlier, and –
Shit!
Without another thought, he turned and sprinted back into the cave. He quickly scanned the area and did not see the locket anywhere. His eyes then fell on the overturned pot and the still-burning embers of the woodfire. A dash of panic began to taint his actions, but he didn’t stop to quell it. Instead, he rushed over to the dying fire and started digging through the ashes. His hands burned and healed almost simultaneously as he dug desperately through the charred wood, an odd combination of frustration and helplessness clouding his judgement.
“Derek?”
He heard Stiles, but didn’t answer, mainly because his fingers wrapped around a clump of metal just then. He looked down at what used to be Stiles’ mother’s locket, the piece now misshapen by the heat and bearing no resemblance to what it used to be. He dropped the thing, both dejected and angry. This was supposed to be the year. This was supposed to be the Christmas where he would show Stiles how much the younger man meant to him by putting the care and thought into his gift that Stiles had always put into his. But everything… everything had been for nothing.
“Derek? What’s wrong? You okay?” Stiles approached and knelt beside him, looking ready to join him in whatever he was searching for.
He brushed the soot and ash off his hands, shook his head, and stood up. “Nothing. I’m good. Just thought I dropped something but I was wrong. C’mon, let’s go home.”
Puzzled, Stiles stood too, though he didn’t pry, and together, they made their way out of the cave once more, but not before Derek threw one last, longing glance at the pile of ashes.
(***)
“Oh, my god, I’m so stuffed,” Stiles said as he plopped down on the couch and rubbed his belly. “I might have to be rolled off to bed later because there’s no way I’m standing up.”
Derek smiled softly at the younger man’s dramatics, and joined him on the sofa. Christmas dinner had been an intimate one again between just the two of them, with Derek doing most of the preparation, while Stiles had ‘helped’. He didn’t mind though. He enjoyed their time together. The way they fit together, their ease with each other … it had all been hard-won, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. The younger man had chatted animatedly throughout the meal and Derek had let him go on, wanting to prolong the whole thing because, if he was being honest, he was dreading what would happen afterwards: their gift exchange.
“Merry Christmas, Derek,” Stiles said, as if reading his thoughts. He reached over to the end table and grabbed an unevenly wrapped gift.
Derek stared at the thing for a moment, just knowing deep down it would be a typical Stiles present, all special and personal. Why did Stiles even stay with him? He must come across as an unthoughtful, unappreciative jerk. Slowly, he unwrapped the gift, and revealed a collage of artfully arranged photographs. There were trees and flowers and butterflies dancing on sunbeams across open trails. They were beautiful, more so in that Derek recognized where they had been taken: the preserve.
“You sometimes talk about how you grew up in the preserve,” Stiles explained. “How it’s a second home to you, and how you have all those memories with your family there. I know the memories are special, so I went and took some pictures during summer break. I hope these help you remember all those good times.”
Derek blinked away the prickling he felt in his eyes. Stiles may have assumed he was touched by the gift, which was fine. He didn’t need to know what Derek was really feeling. He didn’t need to know that in that moment, he thought Stiles really deserved so much better than him.
“Thank you. It’s perfect,” he choked out. “I – “ He didn’t know how to continue. What else could he say? “My present isn’t –“
He stopped. Stiles looked at him expectantly. Not finding the right words, he leaned over to the coffee table and grabbed the last-minute gift bag he’d filled the day before. “Here.”
He looked away while Stiles eagerly dug into the bag. He knew what was in there, and he didn’t need to see the lackluster reaction the younger man would have at the assortment of Reese’s candies he’d find.
“Oh, this is awesome, Derek!” Stiles exclaimed excitedly. “Holy shit, there’s a half pound peanut butter cup in here! Hello, Heaven!”
Derek felt Stiles’ arms wrap around him in gratitude, but he couldn’t find it in himself to return the gesture. The younger man seemed to notice and pulled back. “Derek?”
He turned and took in Stiles’ questioning gaze. He couldn’t do this. They complemented each other so well in everything, but somehow, in this, they were completely mismatched. “Doesn’t it bother you?” he asked in earnest.
“What?”
“My gifts. Doesn’t it bother you that my gifts are so … so bad. Yours are always so … so perfect.” It felt good to get that off his chest.
Stiles gawked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. “Huh? But I think your gifts are perfect. And that’s not a lie. You can tell, right?”
True, Derek hadn’t heard any change in the other man’s heartrate to indicate otherwise, but no one could like his choice of gifts that much. “I just ... I wanted to show you how much I appreciate you, how much I care about you, the same way to do for me, especially with the gifts you give me. But I can’t seem to do that.” This was uncharted territory for him, this admission. He wasn’t used to revealing his insecurities like this. Yet, this was Stiles he was talking to, he reminded himself. Stiles, who never had any shame in revealing his every failure and weakness, and who gave his trust without fear of being hurt. Derek owed him the same. “I found your mother’s locket,” he finally said. “The one from the album you showed me. I found it, and was going to give it to you, but I lost it when we fought that witch last week. I’m sorry.”
He stared at the coffee table. He stared at the discard wrapping paper of the collage he’d just received. He started at everything but Stiles.
And then, “That’s what you were worried about? Not being able to show me you loved me?” Stiles’ tone was incredulous, and it was enough for Derek to turn his attention to the younger man again. “You’re an idiot, Derek,” Stiles continued. “For the record, your presents are awesome. But that’s not the point. You drive three hours each way to visit me on campus every other weekend. You cook Christmas dinner for us every year. You help me pack for college each fall. You drop everything and meet me in a forest, no questions asked, when I call. You even spent all night picking zombie guts out of my hair. If that doesn’t say ‘love’, I don’t know what does!”
To put an exclamation to his point, Stiles pulled him in for a long, lingering kiss. “I love you, Derek Hale, and I know you love me. You don’t need to give me things to show me that. You show me every day in the things you do. And that’s more than enough.”
Derek looked at the man sitting beside him, stunned and at a loss. “I –“
“It’s more than enough,” Stiles re-stated firmly. “Now, stop your self-flagellation, and show me how much you appreciate my gift by kissing me.”
Stiles pulled him in again, and this time, Derek did put everything he had into that kiss because the weight of those heartfelt words were slowly sinking in. He loved Stiles. And Stiles … Stiles knew that. He groaned in appreciation at the true gift he’d been given as he pushed the younger man down onto his back, bracing his weight on his arms as he ground their hips together. Fuck it, he felt like he’d really won the lottery in finding Stiles … because Stiles was right, he realized as he deepened their kiss, tasting and teasing the smart, sarcastic, and silly man beneath him.
This … This was more than enough.
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maraudersandlily20 · 4 years ago
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This prompt is oddly specific and also not, but it's a brain-worm I haven't been able to get rid of--Tonks giving Harry a tattoo.
Teddy really liked playing airplanes. When Harry was over, it was all Teddy would talk about. He watched tv shows, he read muggle books, and he colored pictures that his grandmother had printed out. Harry would watch him in the yard, pretending to be different airplanes for hours. He knew the names, their speed abilities, and even their recognizable emblems. It was rather endearing.
On a hot summers day, while Teddy imitated airplane noises, Harry was sitting against a tree, his eyes partly closed. It was a lovely day and Andy had been desperate for Teddy to get his wiggles out, as she called them. So, Draco and Andy stayed and made dinner and Harry was left with the young one. 
He was six now, growing taller by the day. Harry would always tell him that he wasn’t allowed to grow anymore, which made Teddy squeal with laughter. He looked a lot like Remus when he smiled. It made Harry nostalgic.
Teddy would ask about his parents on occasion. He didn’t have any memory of them, other than feelings. So, when he got curious, he asked. They were always silly, ridiculous things, like what did Remus eat on his sandwich or did Tonks know how to whistle. But Harry tried to answer seriously for every question. He remembered how he had been so curious about his parents and their lives but hadn’t been given access to that until he was much older. 
However, in an odd way, Teddy didn’t really consider Remus and Tonks his parents. He didn’t call them mum or dad, and no one else spoke of them with those titles. He had grandma Andy, uncle Harry and uncle Draco, and a plethora of other adults who acted as makeshift guardians. He knew that his parents were his parents, but naming them by their titles of parenting never seemed to stick to Teddy. So, he called them Remus and Tonks, like everyone else. 
Teddy raced over to Harry and collapsed onto his lap, laughing. Harry gathered him into his arms and covered his face with kisses, proclaiming that he had finally shot down the mighty plane in the sky. They settled quietly, Teddy playing gently with Harry’s fingers, flicking them up and down.
“Harry?” He said, his voice bright.
“Yes love?”
“Did Remus like airplanes?’
Harry thought for a moment. “You know, I’m sure he did. He never got to ride in one though.”
“Did Tonks?”
“Maybe, you’ll have to ask grandma Andy.”
Teddy hummed in acknowledgement before starting anew with questions. “Did Remus like painting? Because I like painting a lot.”
“No, he wasn’t very good at art. But he was good at reading. He read almost every book you could ever think of! He was very smart. Your uncle Sirius was good at painting. He liked painting a lot.”
Teddy knew about Sirius, a bit, but his experience with the older Black man was limited. He knew he was Remus’ special friend, but that he had died before Teddy was born. Teddy liked looking at pictures of him, saying he thought he looked nice. 
“Maybe uncle Sirius gave me the ability to paint,” Teddy said, as if coming to a solid conclusion.
Harry laughed. “Yeah, maybe. What else do you want to know? About Remus and Tonks?”
“Did Tonks like soda?”
“They did. They loved sweets of all kinds. Sometimes, grandma Andy would get so mad at them because of all the sweets they hid under their bed.”
Teddy squealed. “I do that!”
“You do?” Harry exclaimed. “Well, then you must be punished.” His tickled his godson, laughing as Teddy tried to squirm away from him. He finally broke free, but he was smiling widely. 
Teddy stood before him, moving between his legs and squishing Harry’s cheeks between his chubby little hands. “Did Tonks like being able to change into a boy?”
It was a question that Harry always approached with caution. He knew that Tonks’ preference on gender was fluid at times, liking to change pronouns on occasion. Teddy had been understanding of the whole thing, but Harry never wanted to say anything wrong.
“I think they did. Tonks sometimes felt like their body didn’t fit them right. And when that happened, they presented as a boy, like you.” He poked Teddy’s stomach. “But sometimes, they liked looking like a girl. Or, on occasion, they didn’t like being either. They were lucky to get to choose, huh?”
Teddy patted Harry’s cheeks, eyes squinted in concentration. “Do you think Tonks would be mad at me because I only like being a boy?”
Harry felt the surprise on his face. “Uh... Well, no. You know, Tonks never really got mad at anyone, except for Remus. Tonks always said that everyone should feel free to be who they are, whatever they are. So, I don’t think Tonks would be mad that you only liked being a boy. If being a boy makes you happy, then that’s all they would want.”
The little boy nodded, as if the question had been worrying him for some time. “That’s good. I want Tonks to like me.”
“Tonks loved you a lot, little man. No matter what you looked like, they loved you. Okay?”
Teddy nodded. 
“Did Remus give good hugs, like you and uncle Draco?”
Harry smiled at the sudden turn. “He did. He gave big bear hugs, and sometimes he would squeeze so hard that if felt like you couldn’t breathe.”
“Did he give good presents? Grandma Andy said that Tonks was always really happy with the presents he gave them.”
Harry laughed. The questions that children came up with always surprised him. “He did. He and uncle Sirius gave me some of my favorite books that I own. He liked giving people chocolate, just like Grandma Andy did. And he often gave Tonks flowers or sweaters. Tonks loved it. So yeah, he did give good presents.”
“Did Tonks ever give you presents?” Teddy pressed, squishing Harry’s cheeks hard together.
“They did. Do you want to see?”
The boy nodded emphatically as Harry gently pushed him back. With swift fingers, he pulled his shirt from where it was tucked to reveal a small tattoo. It was a picture of a Willow Tree and it waved back and forth on his skin, as if moved by some breeze. There were moments when little birds would fly about the branches before settling. It was beautiful.
He remembered Tonk’s laughter as they pressed the needle against his skin. “You know, when I gave Remus his tattoo, he cried like a baby.” Harry snorted. 
“In my defense,” Remus piped up from the corner where he sat reading a massive novel. “it wasn’t my idea to get the tattoo. I never understand muggles’ incessant need to inflict pain upon themselves. 
“You have a tattoo?” Harry asked. 
“A moon,” Tonks chirped.
“Tonks thinks they’re very funny. It moves through the entire lunar cycle, and is in fact beautiful. It’s on my right shoulder, and it hurt almost as bad as shifting.”
“Come now, ripping your body apart must hurt worse,” Tonks countered, to which Remus just raised his eyebrow. 
“Why tattoos?” Harry asked them, drawing their attention back.
Tonks shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think I like the idea of adding something permanent to yourself. I was able to shift and contort my features however I wanted. But tattoos are something that you can’t shift away. They stay no matter what I look like. To have that feeling of permanence on my skin makes me feel a little more connected to myself.”
Harry understood that. It was partly why he had decided to get a tattoo in the first place. He wanted a reminded to himself that he was alive. He would spend countless hours trapped in his own head, but if he had something on his skin, something to look at and rely on that wouldn’t ever change, maybe he’d feel a little bit less lost.
“Why a willow tree?” The question came from Remus, but he was still looking down at his book. 
Harry shrugged, drumming his fingers against his bare chest. “I feel like the whomping willow at Hogwarts has seen, first hand, much of my growing up experiences. I figured it was a good homage to everything I’ve learned.”
Tonk smiled, wiping some of the excess ink away. “And, anyway, I didn’t tat the actual willow on you. I tweaked it a bit, made it more... whimsical. You don’t need the spikiness of the willow.”
“I don’t mind,” Harry said. “I like the feeling of permanence, especially something like a tree. It’ll refuse to die until it’s forced. Like me.” They laughed and Harry couldn’t help the light feeling that spread over his chest. “Besides, next time I’ll probably get something cheesy, like a snitch or a lighting bolt.”
“Or a dragon,” Tonks offered.
“Or a pair of antlers?”
They spent the remainder of time imagining new tattoos and where they would go. They laughed until their stomachs hurt and the willow tree was finished. Harry felt it was a symbol of peace and promise. He loved it.
Teddy’s fingers traced the branches of the tree, eyes wide in mesmerization. “Tonks gave you this?” he asked, his voice soft.
“They did.”
“They were good at drawing. But on skin.” Harry nodded as Teddy looked up for confirmation. “I want to be good at drawing like that.”
“If you practice, maybe you can.”
“Grandma Andy would let me?”
This made Harry pause. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe. If you really wanted to. Grandma Andy wants you to be happy.”
Teddy returned to his seat on Harry’s lap, pulling his godfathers arms around him. “I can’t wait to get pictures on my skin,” he stated, sighing in contentment at the idea.
“Oh yeah?” said Harry with a laugh. “What picture on your skin would you get first?”
The little boy grinned up at Harry, looking so much like his father that it almost hurt, and said proudly, “An airplane!” A bark of laughter left Harry’s mouth at the answer and he held the little boy even closer. 
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miracul0us-multishipper · 5 years ago
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Welcome to the Back (Part 6)
First Chapter  Previous Chapter  Next Chapter
Felix’ home was... not what she’d expected. From the street, it had looked pretty similar to the Agreste Mansion: high walls, pointy fences, and security cameras.
But as soon as the gate closed behind them, the similarities ended. The plot was wide, but the actual house was almost tiny. It had two stories, and was by all standards still more than enough for two persons, but for a family this rich, it was almost ridiculously modest. The garden was just a bit too messy, the house just a bit too... homely to compare it to Adrien’s. 
“Mum? I’m home.”, Felix said in English as they entered the house, Marinette hurrying after him. The inside of the building was illuminated by sunlight falling through the high windows, tinted green by the leafs of the maple tree outside. There were shelfs as long as the diameter of her room covering the walls, filled to the brim with fashion magazines, novels and poetry collections. One wall was completely plastered with pictures of a sulking, gloomy looking boy in various stages of childhood. The photographies didn’t look like results of a professional photo shoot, but rather like snap shots of a phone or amateur camera. 
They were utterly adorable.
“Sorry for the mess.”, Felix pulled her out of her reverence. He looked a bit nervous, bordering on embarrassed. It was... cute.
“We only moved here a couple of weeks ago, and my mother tends to overcompensate by... well, giving the room her personal flair.”
“And I did a damn good job, Mister Misery Guts!” yelled a chirping voice from the stairs in the back, just before a tall, red haired woman stormed into the room, beaming like a Christmas tree. Her curly hair was pulled up into a bun so messy Marinette almost mistook it for a nest, and there was a reddish smudge of lipstick on her cheek. At least a dozen pins and needles were stuck between the folds of her yellow dress, and Marinette would bet the bag on her belt contained even more. And was that a string of yarn wrapped around her hips?
“You must be Marinette!”, the cheerful woman greeted before basically throwing her arms around the girl. “I’m Evelyn, and so happy to meet you!”
“U-Uh, likewise!”, Marinette stammered back. This woman could only be Felix’ mother, but she was so... different. All hugs and smiles and loud positivity. If she didn’t know better, Marinette would have never guessed the two were even distantly related.
“Mum, remember the talk we had about personal space?”, Felix groaned and shooed her off so Marinette could breath. Evelyn jumped back immediately.
“Right! Sorry! I’m just so excited. Felix told me so much about you!”
“He- He did?” Marinette asked with a side glance at her friend, who became weirdly stiff next to her.
“How about we have lunch now!”, he all but yelled, his eyes burning into his mother’s with something akin to panic. She shrugged and pouted innocently.
“Sure! It’s not like like I would’ve said something embarrassing. But you were right, her pigtails really are cute!”
“MUM!”
Lunch was delicious. After hearing Felix complain about the english cuisine for weeks she’d been a little worried if she was honest. But the Fish and Chips Evelyn presented out of seemingly nowhere were wonderful! And after realizing Evelyn knew all sorts of embarrassing things about her son, Marinette had given Felix the most devilish grin possible, before starting to worm every little detail out of his mother. But her friend didn’t give his dignity up easily, so the meal turned into a verbal battlefield quickly. Marinette’s attempts at revealing yet another embarrassing childhood story were countered by Felix’ creative solution of changing the topic as fast as possible.
Finally, Felix secured victory by bringing up Fashion, something all three of them could get behind.
“Flowers! Oh, I love flowers!”, Evelyn exclaimed, pointing at Marinette’s shirt. “There’s nothing quite as timeless as plants!”
“Absolutely!”, Marinette agreed. “And they’re not limited to any culture as well. You can have flower prints on Kimonos, T-shirts, Saris; they have a huge significance in fashion all around the world. As a pattern or as accessories!”
“They’re available everywhere.”, Felix chimed in, listing several of their characteristics. “They symbolize similar things in almost every culture. They’re associated with life and health, and their  color schemes cover a wide range. They come in both extravagant and discreet shapes. So why the hell would Audrey Bourgeois want to promote glitter? It’s too flashy!”
“And too reminiscent of the 80’s!”, Evelyn insisted. “Not to be rude, but Bourgeois has no in-depth perception when it comes to fashion. No clue about history, or cultural significance.”
“Or parenting.”, Felix and Marinette deadpanned simultaneously and Evelyn laughed. 
“From what I’ve heard, absolutely.”
Her hand gestures through the air, as if to swat a fly or get rid of a distraction.
“But to get back at what I originally wanted to say, I adore your clothes. Felix told me you design and create everything yourself, by hand! I’m impressed, especially given your young age.”
Marinette shrugged, but beamed with pride. Evelyn Leanne liked her designs!
“I started a bit out of necessity. My favorite color is pink, but almost every pink article of clothing I found in shops was too much, or too gaudy, or too impractical. And then there was the issue of combining! But when I made my own clothes, I could make them exactly as I needed them. And it was so much fun, I just couldn’t stop! Last month I even won the Agreste’s bowler hat competition.”
“Neat! That guy’s hard to impress. I remember doing a collaboration with him last year, and it was a total disaster. He just couldn’t compromise on a single thing! If we had done it his way, the entire show would have been monochromatic black and whites. And on the day of the show...”, she trailed off, the smile fading from her face. It was dead quiet for a second, before Felix chair scraped over the floor with a screech, startling both of them.
“I’ll do the dishes.”, he stated calmly, but his mouth was tense as he spoke. She watched him as he left the room, worried about the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room.
“Is everything alright?”, she asked his mother. Evelyn sighed, looking after him as well.
“I hope so. He didn’t do this for a while, but since he started school, he’s become a bit more sensitive to the topic again.”
She looked at Marinette.
“I was hoping you knew why, to be honest.”
The student shook her head in confusion.
“I don’t want to pry, Madame, but what topic do you mean?”
Now Evelyn looked uncomfortable.
“It’s... See, that was his first fashion show, and I might have put a bit too much pressure on it, on him. He was so excited, and I went a bit overboard with what I promised. And he was doing great, he really was! But another model... he didn’t mean any harm, the poor boy. He just didn’t understand the situation, and Felix took the brunt of it. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.”
She sighed, rubbing her temples.
“You should probably ask him, if you want to know. I shouldn’t interfere too much in your friendship, and what he wants to share, or how fast.”
Marinette was dying to know what had happened, but nodded. Felix was adamant about his boundaries and kept things close to his chest. She wouldn’t like her parents to spill her worries either, especially not to someone who had only visited once.
“I understand.”
“Thank you.”, Evelyn said, her voice so serious and genuine she sounded awfully similar to Felix. “He’ll appreciate that.”
A smile crept back into her freckled face, chasing the frown away.
“Really, I’m proud he has a friend like you. I can’t remember the last time he brought someone over, and I was a bit worried. He likes to be by himself, but... he’s so different since he knows you. He walks lighter, he smiles a bit more... it’s subtle, but I think he’s happier now.”
Marinette laughed nervously, a fuzzy feeling in her stomach at the thought that she affected him that much.
“Was he that grouchy?”
“No! I mean, yes, but that’s just how he is. His default mode. But now you’ve unlocked the Smiling Grouch Premium Pack, and that’s more than I could’ve ever hoped for. Who knows, maybe I’ll even hear him hum one day! Or, God beware, whistle!”
They talked on for a while, and Marinette realized she’d been wrong, earlier that afternoon. Evelyn and Felix weren’t that different at all. 
Both were tall and slender, both had the same thin nose and eyebrows. They shared their sarcastic humor, their passion for clothes, their respect and care for each other. Even in their bluntness they were the same, though Felix spiced his with a scoff and a bit of rudeness.
Their relationship truly was miraculous to witness.
“Done.” Felix announced his return and went back to his seat. “Mum, you have lipstick on your cheek. And your neck.”
Evelyn gasped and fumbled with her napkin to remove the red smudge.
“O-Oh? Really? Clumsy me, must have gotten there when I paired the makeup and outfits for next week’s photoshoot.”
Was that just her or did Evelyn look a bit too embarrassed? Just when Marinette decided to ignore it, a door opened and a dark skinned woman with short hair peeked inside.
“Miss, you’re 15 o’clock call is waiting.”, she informed Evelyn and gave Marinette and Felix an apologetic smile. 
With lips that wore red lipstick. 
Lipstick that looked suspiciously similar to the smudges on Evelyn’s skin. 
“I regret the intrusion, but it’s important.”
“Of course, right away!”, Evelyn replied dutifully, turning to Marinette. “This is Cordelia, my assistant. Sorry to bail on you now, but work’s calling.” 
Still trying to get rid of the quite obvious traces of lipstick on her neck, she followed Cordelia through the door.
“I hope I’ll see you around, Marinette! Felix, don’t forget your lessons later. Have fun you two!”
And off they were.
Surprised, Marinette turned towards Felix.
“Was that... Are they...?”
“Not officially.” Felix shrugged. “But the word “subtle” does not register in my mother’s vocabulary, so... yes.”
He walked towards the stairs and gestured her to follow. 
“They want to keep it secret from me, in case I need time to adjust.” he informed her, before giving her a sly little grin. “Little do they know, it was me who set them up with each other.”
Marinette snorted.
“For real now?!”
“Of course.”
The room Felix lead her to was obviously his own, but the sheer difference from the rest of the house startled Marinette. It was small and tidy, white walls, bedsheets and lamps dominating the room. A few books were stacked on his desk and a black violin case stood in the corner, but a few pictures and green succulents aside, there were no knickknacks or decorations. The notebook with his poems rested on his bed, the sheets around it wrinkled as if someone had laid there after making the bed. 
She wondered if Felix liked to stay on his bed for a while after getting up, writing down what went through his head before all sleepiness faded. Did he write something new, just this morning? Maybe even about her?
“Marinette?”, Felix asked and she realized she’d stared at him. 
“Oh, yes? Sorry, I spaced out.”
She felt her cheeks warm up. 
“The room is very... you.”
Felix blinked and hurried to look somewhere else.
“Do... Do you like it?”, he asked with feigned casualness. 
She looked around again, over the room that looked so impersonal at first glance. Then at the wrinkled sheets. The notebook. The well cared for plants, the pictures on the wall and the books that had been read so often their pages started to look yellow.
She smiled.
“I love it.”
-
Lila was careful. She waited until half past 15 o’clock until she called Madame Leanne, knowing full well she wouldn’t answer the phone now. Her number, she’d taken from the pictures of Felix’ calendar.
“This is Evelyn’s private phone, for business calls please contact my assistant. Otherwise, leave a message after the tone!”, chirped an energetic voice and Lila prepared herself.
“Hi!”, she cooed as soon as it peeped. “This is Lila Rossi, I’m the class representative and a good friend of your son, Felix. I wanted to speak to you personally about some matters regarding his situation in our school, but if you’re not available now, maybe I could come over later? Felix gave me the address, it won’t be a problem. It’s really important. Thank you in advance, see you later!”
She hung up, her smile widening. Not leaving her a chance to decline was crucial, as her lies were most effective when she could see her target face to face. 
But once that was the case, Evelyn Leanne would be a piece of cake.
And Felix would have no choice but to give her a chance.
-
“Can I ask you something?”
Felix shrugged.
“You do so all the time. I haven’t figured out a way to stop you yet.”
She chuckled.
“It’s impossible, Alya already tried and failed. But seriously now, it’s okay if you don’t want to answer.”
He straightened and nodded, so she went ahead.
“Earlier, when you left... Your mother said that there was a problem at your first fashion show. Involving another model.”
She noticed his shoulders stiffen.
“There’s tons of problems at every show.” he mumbled and she wondered if this was a good idea. Still, she couldn’t turn back now.
“Did... Was the other model Adrien?”
He stood up so fast the couch shook.
“Is that all you ever ask about?”, he snapped. “Adrien this, Adrien that, he’s oh so perfect and can do no wrong! Can you take off your rose colored lenses for one minute and think about something - anything! - else than obsessing over Agreste?!”
-
Felix regretted it as soon as he said it. He didn’t know why he said it in the first place, his head clouded by undirected anger and hurt and the instinct to run. The best defense is the offense, he knew, completely forgetting that this was Marinette; that she wasn’t the one he needed to protect himself from.
But now the words were out, and he could see exactly how shock and pain twisted her face into an angry grimace.
She had jumped back at his sudden outburst, but quickly took a step forward and bore her index finger into his chest.
“Stop yelling at me!”, she snarled, hurt worse than she’d like to admit. “Contrary to what you and Alya seem to believe, my world does not revolve around Adrien! And if your petty grudge against him is why my crush on him is a problem, it’s definitely yours, not mine!”
She stepped back, chin raised and hand clenched to fists at her side.
“I told you you don’t have to answer, and I asked because I want to understand you, and that includes whatever happened that day, and your dislike of Adrien. So either tell me you don’t wanna talk or explain it to me, but you have no. Damn. Right to talk to me like that!”
She grabbed her purse and wanted to storm off, but his voice stopped her before he even realized he’d opened his mouth.
“Wait”, he asked stifled, all aggression faded from his voice. She turned around. He couldn’t look at her, eyes locked on the floor in beneath her feet, lips pressed together in a tight line. Hurt and Anger were faint memories now, his chest constricted by shame. What had gotten into him?
“I’m sorry.”, he pressed out, trying to keep his voice calm and failing miserably. “That was unfair, and I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have.”, she said, but without any fervor behind it. 
“I like you.”, Felix blurted out in panic, still not able to look at her. Was she angry? God, what if he’d made her cry? “You’re important to me, and I don’t want to lose you.”
If he had ruined this just because he couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut about Agreste... 
“I shouldn’t have said that.”, he repeated, wishing he could turn back time and slap himself before hurting his first and closest friend. “It’s not true that you’re obsessed with him, and I-I don’t know what possessed me to lash out like that.”
God knows he didn’t get what she saw in Agreste, but she had told him that in confidence; she had trusted him with something this personal, and he’d used that against her. If their roles were reversed, he wasn't sure if he would’ve even sticked around to yell at her. He only knew that if she left now, she’d never look at him like before and he wouldn’t be able to bear that.
“Please don’t go.”
When she didn’t move, he slowly dared to look up. She stood in the doorframe, body facing him but head turned away. Her hunched shoulders and tense frown filled him with anxiety, but when she turned to look at him, her eyes were calm.
“Okay”, she said and relieve made him dizzy. “Okay.”
-
“What did my mother tell you already?” Felix asked, his voice steadier now. They sat on the couch again, Marinette with crossed legs and Felix with his usual posture. He was still more tense than usual, she noticed.
“Not much”, she answered honestly. “Just that she put high exactions on you, another boy messed up and you took the harm of it. She blames herself.”
He shook his head.
“She does that often, but she’s wrong. It wasn’t her fault.”
He sighed, slumping a bit.
“I... I want to take over the company one day. I’m not good at designing, but I’m interested in marketing and business economics. As CEO, I wouldn’t do much of the designing myself anyway, but rather take care of the business side. My mother supports me, of course, but she thinks it’s too early to get me involved. Wants me to enjoy my childhood and so on.”
Marinette listened attentively, resting her chin on her hands.
“My parents divorced last year.”, Felix continued, his voice growing bitter. “Don’t know what took them so long, my father is an asshole. Only cares about his own image, and what kind of scandals he can milk for profit. He’s... He had his issues about the divorce, just wouldn’t accept it. Mum had a restraining order against him in progress, and the security she hired had strict orders to not let him near me.”
He fidgeted.
“During the divorce, he used to... forgo recommended ways of behaving towards a child. And even before, he was dismissive at best.
“When I had my first show, I made Mum promise me to involve me more in the company if I did well. I had already worked with Adrien a couple of times, and thought it wouldn’t be a problem.”
So her suspicions had been correct: Adrien had been the other model. And that Felix had accidentally used his first name implied that he’d liked Adrien back then, maybe even thought of him as a friend.
“And the first half went well, really. I knew my dad had wanted to be the journalist reporting about it, but Mum had my back and the security did their job. During my second walk... he barged in anyway. Started to shout at my Mother in the first row, and I just... froze.”
He wasn’t looking at her, eyes locked on his own hands.
“He took a lot of pictures, despite the security dragging him out. Of me, looking admittedly horrified. Of Mum looking angry, and of how I ran out. Not only did I ruin the show, he made up stories about how the great Evelyn Leanne mistreated her son, used him for publicity and who knows what else.”
A bitter laugh escaped him, not reaching his eyes.
“It didn’t last long, of course. Our lawyers stomped him into the ground, he lost his job at the newspaper and our reputation recovered. But the damage was done.
“Our company lost much value for a while. Mum went through a lot, before we were exonerated. And my reaction and withdrawn behavior afterwards convinced her that I wasn’t ready for more responsibilities, that I needed normalcy and support. She didn’t  mean to punish me for how I acted then, of course. Just to protect me. She’s not at fault.”
His face turned sour and Marinette braved herself, already expecting his next words.
“Agreste is.”
He closed his eyes in something akin to resignation.
“He let my father in, through the private entrance. I told him how I feel about my father, but all it took was some “I just want to make things right” bullshit from him to convince Adrien I was wrong.”
Marinette opened her mouth to defend him, more out of habit than conviction, but stopped herself. What did she want to say, anyway?
What excuse could she make that actually worked out? 
“I... I’m sorry.”, she said instead. She couldn’t think of anything else. All she knew was that Felix was hurt, and he trusted her enough to show it, and she had no idea how to help. No idea how to show him she cared.
So she remained quiet and nudged his leg with her knee, just how he had done earlier that day. Their silent way of support.
He didn’t speak, but his hand tentatively grasped hers, as if not sure how. She squeezed it lightly, watching his profile. 
Calmer now. Relieved, almost.
He squeezed back.
-
They sat like that for a while, not speaking as Marinette processed his words, and he processed his inner turmoil. 
Felix wasn’t good at that.
He didn’t face his own feelings. He figured out which were productive and acted on them, then found a way to work around the rest. Easier that way. More efficient.
But it had been convenience or his friendship with Marinette, so he had had to swallow the bitter pill and hope for the best. And... this was the best possible outcome he could think of. 
In retrospect, he didn’t know what he had been afraid of in the first place. This was Marinette.
The girl who stood up for him when no one would listen.
The girl who’d rather risk being labeled a thief than keep something from a boy she’d barely exchanged a word with. 
The girl he could joke with and talk to, without feeling pressured to perform.
The girl he loved more than- Wait.
He stumbled over his own thoughts, his mind coming to a screeching halt. 
Where did that come from?
When did this happen?
He shook his head, trying to shake the thought off.
He was under-socialized. He was interpreting too much in this feeling. He just didn’t have enough experience with friendship. There was no way he-
Marinette, seeing him shake his head, quickly pulled her hand away and he found himself grasping for it again, holding onto her and the feeling of warmth she radiated. He froze mid movement.
Oh.
Oh.
He loved her. He wanted to hold her hand, and he wanted to be close to her, and now that he thought about it, kissing her didn’t sound so bad either. Oh no. Oh crap.
He’d messed up. His first real friendship, and he went and fell in love. 
What was he supposed to do? Should he tell her? Oh hell no. No, no, no. 
Maybe this was more of a passing infatuation? 
He threw a hesitant glance at her, just to see her smile at him.
Nope. 
Definitely not going away that quickly.
He didn’t know what to do. Wasn’t prepared. Mum had told him more about love than he’d liked to hear at the time, but now he couldn’t remember a single thing. All he could think of was that his mother had been friends with his father for years, fallen in love with him, and now hated his guts. 
What if he’d hate Marinette eventually? What if she would hate him? She was in love with Agreste, wasn’t interested in him that way, what if she-
“Are you okay?”, she asked him, blissfully unaware of the thoughts racing through his mind. 
“I’m not sure”, he answered honestly.
She bit her lip, and the idea of kissing her came back to the forefront of his mind. Not now!
“I’m not sure either.”, she confessed. “But I’m happy you told me. I meant what I said earlier. You can be hard to read from time to time, and I really want to understand you. And.. now I do that a little more. And can support you when you need it. So... that’s something, right?”
Felix took a deep breath.
She was right, more so than she knew. This might not be an easy realization, nor a convenient one. But... he liked the feeling of holding her hand. The feeling when he thought about her, or when she looked at him like this. It felt... good.
And maybe that would change, for the better or for the worse. But for now... it was something.
And that was enough.
- - -
@crazycookie13o @a-6-yearold-inside @sinfulfoxbeast @kuroko26 @sternsneeze @zeyheartstaylor @elliecake5 @kristycocopop @yamadochie @sofmimis @enigmaticagitator @offically-over-it @earth-demon @juhavs @omgelisahagemanuniverse @owllover132 @kaydenth3gayden @janaikam @mewwitch @bluerosette23 @fanboy7794 @slytherin-batbitch @fanatic-kay @shadowberrybinch @salty-r-a @loosescrewslefty @im-here-for-the-content @lexysama @anonymouse-thoughts @chxtons @ilseofskadi @fafik7 @bloody-no-kissu @himevampirechan @goldenmoonbeam @chrismarium @akiyukiko @heaven428 @magnitude101999 @jazzybabycakes @edith-of-the-moon 
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freddiesaysalright · 5 years ago
Text
Blessed Part 1
The Peace Like a River Sequel
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Summary: Gwilym and Y/N are married. Violet is six years old. Baby number two is on the way. There are still some shadows that plague Y/N in her marriage to Gwil, and Violet is suddenly resentful of her parents. The Lee family tries to stick together.
Word Count: 2.6k
Tag List: @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @simmisblog​, @assembledherethevolunteers​, @lookuptotheskiesandsee​, @readinghorn​, @riddikuluslypotter​, @doingalrightt​, @misslolasworld​, @lemurian-starship​, @ravenedges-lies, @painkiller80​, @imgonnabeyourslave​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @ixchel-9275​, @sincerelygmg, @lv7867​, @unicorn-princess-1999​, @delilahmay39​, @chlobo6​, @dragon-out-of-water​, @radio-hoo-ha​, @agentmalfoy24601​, @thigh-your-mother-down​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!
A/N: Alrighty! So before my next major fic, I had a little idea to carry on PLAR since it was so well-loved and there is some more story to tell. This is going to be a 4-5 part mini-series to give you all a glimpse into Y/N and Gwil’s life together with young Violet and starting to add to their family. I hope you all enjoy!
Haven’t read Peace Like a River? Start here!
Part 1 here we go!!!
Seven more weeks. Just seven more weeks until this baby was here. And the most exciting part was that today, you were hopefully going to see her face for the first time. It would be via a 3-D ultrasound, but still. They were very detailed and often showed a great deal more than a traditional one. You thought about inviting some friends and family to it, but you and Gwilym ended up just wanting to take Violet.
“How much longer to the doctor?” your daughter wondered.
“Just a few more minutes, lovie,” Gwilym assured her.
“Okay!” she chirped before looking out the window again, humming to herself.
Violet was six now. She had fully adjusted life in London, and was absolutely in love with England. You were right there with her. There was really nothing you missed about the US. You would have missed Adam, but he had moved across the pond as well. You were thrilled to have him there with you. He was a great assistant and an even better friend.
“Why isn’t Adam coming to see the baby?” Violet asked.
“It’s his day off,” you told her.
“Shouldn’t that mean he has more time to come with us?”
You chuckled. “That’s not how it works, baby.”
She shrugged and returned to gazing out the window. Within another two minutes, you pulled up to the doctor’s office. It wasn’t your normal office because they didn’t have this equipment. A jolt of nerves went through you all of a sudden. You squeezed Gwilym’s hand just as he cut the engine.
“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked.
“I’m nervous,” you admitted.
“What on earth for?”
“I dunno,” you said. “It’s just...this feels pretty big.”
“It is,” he said. “But this is exciting. We’re going to get the first glimpse of the baby.”
“What if something’s wrong?” you wondered.
“Then we’ll find out how to proceed,” he assured you. “Dr. Tate is going to be right there. And so will I.”
“Me too!” Violet chimed in.
Gwilym laughed. “Yes, Violet too. The most important person of all.”
You couldn’t help but smile. You took a deep breath.
“Alright, let’s go in.”
“Stay right there,” Gwilym said. “I’ll help you out.”
“You don’t have to-”
He cut you off with a stern look. All through your pregnancy, you had avoided asking Gwilym for help doing anything. Even something as simple as reaching your favorite coffee mug. You were still so used to doing everything on your own. In your marriage to Henry, you never asked him to help you with any tasks out of fear of annoying him. Even though Gwilym had never placed any of those expectations on you, you couldn’t help but feel the need to take care of things independently. You had even taken your pregnancy test and gone to your first doctor’s appointment alone. As happy as Gwilym was when you told him you were pregnant, you ended up fighting about how you had not confided in him or brought him with you to the doctor. So, with a huff, you sat back and waited for Gwil and Violet to come around and help you out of the passenger seat.
“There,” he said. “Not so hard, was it?”
You rolled your eyes. “You’ve made your point.”
He chuckled and - still holding your hand - lead you inside.
The receptionist greeted you warmly while you checked in. Violet looked around at all the pictures of babies hanging on the walls.
“None of these are Sybil, right?” she asked.
You smiled. The first person to consistently change from calling her “the baby” to the name you and Gwilym chose, was Violet. She adored the name, and was eager to have Sybil out in the world.
“No, honey,” you said. “Sybil is still inside Mommy. These babies have already been born.”
She nodded, but continued to gaze at the photos, perhaps wondering what her little sister might look like.
“Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Lee, your doctor and technician will be with you in just a moment,” the receptionist said.
The three of you took seats along the wall. Gwilym pulled out his phone and began checking emails. Violet quickly crawled onto his lap.
“Daddy, can I play games?” she asked.
“Not just now, lovie, Daddy’s got work,” he returned gently.
She pouted, a bit dejected, but he didn’t notice. Rolling your eyes, you retrieved your own phone and handed it over to your daughter. She beamed and moved to switch over to your lap, but you shook your head.
“Sorry, Vi,” you said. “Sybil is taking up too much space.”
She nodded, opened your phone and pulled up some animal game she loved. You rested your head on Gwilym’s shoulder and closed your eyes. It was only another two or three minutes before your doctor emerged.
“Mr. and Mrs. Lee?” said Dr. Tate.
You sat up and smiled at her. Gwilym placed Violet on her feet and quickly moved to help you up. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again.
“How are you today?” she asked politely as you all followed her back to the exam room.
“Good,” you answered. 
“We wanna see Sybil!” Violet added with enthusiasm.
“Sybil?” Dr. Tate repeated. “What a lovely name.”
“Thank you,” you returned.
You entered the room and Gwilym helped you onto the exam table. Like normal, you pulled the waistband of your pants down to give them room. The technician introduced herself as Michelle as you took your place and her friendly disposition eased your nerves a bit. She pulled her gloves on and started to get everything ready.
On the opposite wall, a large, flat screen TV was mounted. In front of that sat a couch. Violet immediately ran over and sat on it.
“This is where we’re gonna see her?” she checked.
“That’s it,” Michelle confirmed. 
“It’s like a movie,” she said with awe.
You all chuckled at Violet’s fascination.
“So, second time parents?” Michelle wondered.
“Mrs. Lee is,” Dr. Tate answered. “Violet is from her previous marriage.”
“Ah, I see,” Michelle said with a nod. “Well, when Violet was coming along, this procedure wasn’t as common.”
“Yeah, I didn’t have one of these with her,” you said.
“Okay, so I’ll just go over what exactly this machine does and how much of the baby you can expect to see,” she went on.
She explained everything in detail while she prepped you for the ultrasound. It was a lot, and you were amazed by what this technology could do. Finally, it began, and Michelle placed the probe against your swollen belly.
You and Gwilym turned your eyes to the screen. Slowly, an image appeared. At first, you could hardly make anything out, it was just a mess of blurry, orange blobs. But then, Michelle turned a few dials, and everything focused. Dr. Tate stood by the screen and pointed.
“There’s her -”
“Mouth,” you finished.
Your baby’s face became almost perfectly clear there. You saw her eye sockets, which looked a little strange, but her cheeks, nose, and mouth were right there.
“That’s right,” Dr. Tate said. “She has a beautiful mouth too. That cupid’s bow…”
“It looks like yours, Gwil,” you said excitedly, taking his hand. “God, she has your mouth exactly.”
Your heart felt like it could burst. It was so full. There she was. The baby you wanted for so long and now her face was before you. Tears stung your eyes. You looked over at Gwilym to find him with watery eyes as well and you smiled.
“That’s our little girl,” he sighed. “She’s beautiful.”
Suddenly, the image jerked. You felt Sybil’s little jump inside you. You giggled.
“What happened?!” Violet cried.
“It’s alright, sweetie,” you assured her. “She’s just got hiccups.”
“They can get hiccups in there?!” she returned, marveling. 
“Sure can,” Dr. Tate answered. “All while their bodies are forming.”
“Wow…” Violet looked over at you. “Has she had hiccups before?”
“Sometimes,” you told her. “Usually, they’re at night or while you’re at school.”
“I’ll teach her all the tricks to getting rid of hiccups,” she said firmly.
“You’re a very sweet sister, Violet,” Gwilym said.
You watched the ultrasound more, and Michelle showed you the arms and legs of your baby as well. But you were completely enthralled by her face. She was hands down the prettiest baby you had ever seen. Every bit as beautiful as Violet when she came. The amount of detail this ultrasound provided made you all the more ready for these last seven weeks to pass so you could see her face in person and touch it and kiss it.
As Michelle printed the photos and cleaned off your tummy, Gwilym met your gaze.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Excited,” you told him. “More in love than ever.”
“Me too,” he returned, pecking your lips gently.
Violet walked over to you and you noticed her face fell. She looked hurt, but you couldn’t imagine by what. 
“Mommy, can we go home now?” she asked.
“In a minute, honey,” you said. “We’ve got to wait for the pictures.”
She sighed heavily and you exchanged a confused look with Gwilym. All those concerns melted away, though, when you looked at the printed pictures of Sybil’s face. You almost lost yourself in it again, but then Dr. Tate escorted you back to the lobby. You bid her a fond farewell, assuring her you would see her again next week, and then you all headed back to the car. Gwilym helped you into your seat before getting behind the wheel, and you were on your way back home for some lunch.
“I can’t believe how much of her we can see,” you said once again, still gazing at the pictures.
“I know,” Gwilym agreed. “You really think she has my mouth?”
“I don’t think it, I know it,” you returned, looking closer. “It’s a freaking replica of your mouth. Oh, I hope she has your eyes too.”
“Don’t count yourself out, beautiful,” he replied.
You beamed at him. Then, you turned as much as you could to look at Violet in the back seat.
“What did you think, Vi?” you asked. “How cool was it to see your baby sister?”
“I dunno,” she said with a shrug. “Pretty cool, I guess.”
You shot your husband another confused look.
“Everything okay, sweetie?” you wondered.
She just shrugged again, keeping her eyes out the window instead of looking at you.
“Are we being annoying by gushing about Sybil?” Gwilym asked.
You watched Violet shift uncomfortably in her seat. He glanced over at you and you nodded.
“How about this?” he said. “To make it up to you, we won’t go home for lunch. We’ll go out, and you can choose wherever you want.”
She perked right up at that and quickly demanded McDonald’s. Naturally, you obliged.
The coming days passed similarly. Violet would start off a conversation happily about Sybil. She expressed how excited she was to be a big sister and everything she planned to do to help. Then, something would happen, there would be a shift, and she was suddenly moody. You couldn’t pin down what exactly was triggering it.
One night, Adam stayed for dinner after work. You showed him the picture from the 3-D ultrasound and he was of course amazed. He congratulated you and Gwilym again.
“That’s seriously so cool,” he said. “You can already see how much she looks like Gwil.”
You glanced at Violet and saw her expression sour. Was this about Gwilym?
“Yeah,” you agreed, deciding against addressing it right away. “She’s gonna be pretty, huh?”
“She’s already gorgeous,” Adam said. “I can’t wait to meet her in person.”
“We’re dying as well,” Gwilym agreed. He leaned over and rubbed your belly. “Whenever you’re ready, my little girl.”
“She needs a few more weeks, at least,” you reminded him gently.
“I know, but -”
The scraping of a chair interrupted him. Violet had pushed back and was now on her feet, leaving the kitchen.
“Violet, love, where are you going?” Gwilym called after her.
“My room,” she snipped back.
She stomped up the stairs and you all listened until you heard her bedroom door slam shut.
“What’s up with her?” Adam wondered.
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “She seems excited and then out of nowhere she gets like this. And she won’t talk to us about it.”
“We’ve asked the doctor about it, and she says it’s normal for kids to become jealous of the coming baby,” Gwilym said. “But I don’t know, this is really unlike her.”
“I agree,” you said. “Violet’s never had an attitude like this.”
“Well, how does it get resolved?” Adam asked.
“She usually just gets over it after a while,” you told him. “After an hour or so, she just comes back downstairs to watch TV with us or something.”
“That is weird,” he agreed. “Have you tried talking to her about it after she’s calmed down?”
“Not yet,” you said. “We’ve thought about it, we just really don’t know how she’s going to react.”
“You should try it,” he said. “Maybe if you address it while she’s not angry, she won’t be so opposed to hearing you. Or it’ll show her that what she’s feeling isn’t really fair to you guys.”
You and Gwilym shared a look.
“It can’t hurt to try,” Gwil said.
You nodded. “Alright. When I take her to school tomorrow, I’ll give it a try.”
The following morning, as you drove Violet to school, you agonized over what to say and how to ask her about what she was feeling. It was a complicated thing, and Violet might not even understand what she was going through.
“Honey, we need to talk about your behavior last night,” you began.
“What behavior?” she asked innocently.
“Well, you stormed off to your room in the middle of dinner,” you reminded her. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”
She remained silent, staring resolutely out the window.
You sighed.
“It’s okay if you’re made at us,” you said. “But we can’t fix anything unless we know what it is you’re upset about, baby.”
You looked into the rear view to try and see her, but she was still ignoring your question. You heaved another sigh of defeat.
“Okay, Violet,” you said. “You don’t have to tell me now. But whenever you’re ready to talk, Daddy and I are ready to listen.”
You heard her sniffle at the mention of Gwilym. Was she angry at him? 
“Okay,” she said softly.
You pulled up to the school then, and put the car in park. You turned to look at her.
“We love you very much, honey,” you said. “Have a good day at school.”
“Thanks, Mommy,” she said, still not looking at you as she clamored out of the car and approached her teacher.
You watched her disappear into the building, feeling like crying yourself.
That afternoon, you were with Adam, working on some new material for your upcoming special, once again for Netflix. He was answering emails. Gwilym was in his study with a new script he’d gotten. 
Your phone rang. While you worked, Adam answered your phone, so he did so now.
“Y/N Lee’s phone,” he said.
You heard him say a few “uh-huhs” and the like. Then he called out to you.
“Y/N,” he said. “It’s Violet’s teacher.”
Your brow furrowed, but you beckoned Adam over. You took the phone and held it to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Lee?” said Violet’s teacher, Mrs. Topper.
“Yes, what’s the matter?” you pressed.
“Violet’s in some trouble,” she said. “Are you and your husband able to make it to the school this afternoon?”
Your heart froze over with fear and concern.
“We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
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somelazyassartist · 4 years ago
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10 and 12!
10. Your favorite enemy and the enemy you hate the most.
I'd have to say my favorite enemy was the ghost of the lady that owned our party's mansion before we moved in. She was a pain in the ass to get rid of. Hallows didn't like her very much because she magically made Hallows physically age 20 years (lucky for Hallows it didn't do shit to her appearance cuz she's a really young Elf so she still looked exactly the same) and immediately said "fuck this" and escaped through her tower room window to get A) the Royal Guard including Ciggus who was not actually Hallows' son at that point in the story, and B) the local Priest who did all of the work and saved all of our party's asses. But I personally really liked that encounter and had a lot of fun with it.
My least favorite enemy was probably the Intellect Devourers we had to fight. Their hosts beat the absolute shit out of Hallows, and nearly made our Barbarian, Borylter, braindead by leaving him with only 1 intelligence, though he got better after a long rest. But I did enjoy the aftermath of that encounter, where Hallows had a really touching heart-to-heart with said Barbarian (only because, and I quote, "I would never admit this if you weren't too stupid to understand what I'm saying") where she admitted to him that despite how much she teases and antagonizes him, she sees him as her best friend and he makes her really happy to be alive again. Hallows would be lying if she said she didn't secretly wish he could have remembered her saying that. 
12. Your in game inside jokes/memes/catchphrases and where they came from.
+1 Chalk, The Great Table Debacle of 2019, Impromptu Therapy, Apples, and "Fine, but I'm not looking" are the five that immediately pop into my head, though I'm sure we have many more than that.
+1 Chalk: our party had found a magical forcefield that had a different effect on everything you sent through it. Hallows sent her familiar Morticia through it, rendering the cute lil bat unharmed but now invisible, our Tabaxi, Loki, ran through it twice and caught on fire both times (he had Hallows chuck him by the tail and the scruff of his neck like a battering ram for a third time, but nothing happened except him faceplanting into a wall), and Borylter threw a piece of chalk through there, which made the chalk faintly glow but otherwise be completely useless. We refer to the whole scenario as "+1 Chalk" because while it was highly entertaining, it was ultimately pointless, like the chalk itself.
The Great Table Debacle of 2019: we were exploring a dungeon and came across a room that had nothing but one huge banquet table full of food in it. After some poking around we found out that the table itself was magical and would replenish any food eaten off of it, and we all collectively decided we Wanted It. We debated- I shit you not- for ten straight minutes on how to get that thing out of the dungeon and back home. Our plan was to rip it apart and put the pieces in Ciggus' bag of holding, and then once we got it home we'd use the Mending Cantrip as many times as needed until it was whole again. Eventually our DM told us to just move on and if we really need to we can come back later because please can we just get on with the story. Quarantine cut our campaign short and we never did get to go back for that table.
Impromptu Therapy: For the first mission we ever did (the one that had our party meet in the first place), we were all collectively hired to go find some dude's missing girlfriend. When we eventually found her, she was 100% about to throw hands with every single one of us, including her boyfriend. Everything was reaching a boiling point and shit was about to go down, before I got my turn and I was like "can we, I dunno... Try to defuse the situation before somebody gets hurt?". The DM let me roll for Persuasion- of which Hallows happens to have a +9 in- and I ended up with a solid 23. So out of nowhere Hallows basically just asked 'em to sit down and she helped them talk out their emotions and ended up getting them back together, while the rest of the party dug around and stole stuff. Hallows actually became pretty decent friends with the girl afterwards, since they both work at the same theatre company.
Apples: at the start of the campaign Borylter decided that whenever he'd try a new food that he'd roll a d20 to see how much he liked it. Our Artificier happened to have some apples in his bag and offered him one, and, on his first time trying any new food, he rolled a nat 20. Apples being Borylter's one weakness was a pretty strong running joke in our party.
"Fine, but I'm not Looking": we had been fighting some Vampires on our first mission, and were in the middle of interrogating the last one alive. Borylter held him hostage while the rest of us pried the information for where the missing girl we were looking for was. When we got what we needed, we decided that the best thing to do was to finish him off. Only Hallows had any real objections, but gave in, saying "fine, but I'm not looking", and turned the other way. However- for important context- our player tokens were all these little paper dolls that had a very tiny doodle of each of our characters on either side (our DM made them for us and I'm gonna see if it's possible for him to send mine in the mail, but this is a rough idea of what it looked like)
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That doodle was printed on both sides of the player token. So when I reached over and flipped Hallows the opposite direction to indicate that she had turned around, it just showed the same picture and effectively ruined my point, however it made Borylter laugh so hard he struggled to get through describing snapping the Vampire's neck, so I count that as a win.
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funky-club-penguin-music · 5 years ago
Text
Hey rat lovers~
February 11th, 2020. Almost 3 am EST which meansss.... oumami week day 2 suckahs!!
This one is probably my favorite and will be my longest piece of the week. For a little context, I picked soulmate au AND talent swap for this one! It goes as follows:
AU - whatever you write on your skin shows up on your soulmate’s skin
Rantaro - child caregiver 
Kaede - nurse
Kokichi - chef (not implied or stated, grr)
Anyway, I feel like i left it unfinished, so maybe for day 7 I could do the free day and add onto it? I’d really be into doing that, but I dunno. whatever I do, I know that I should totally continue this at some point!
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Day 2: Soulmate / Talent Swap
Words: 1430 (mmmm)
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The cold water splashed against the sink's rim as Rantaro attempted to get rid of the last bits of leftover ink on his arms. Thankfully, the girls were a little less aggressive with the coloring today. They usually got up to his shoulders… With the final designs turning to a heavy fade from all the scrubbing, he turned off the water and dried his forearms off on his shirt. A glance at the clock on the wall told him it was just nearing 6 pm. Somehow, it was a pretty calm day, which was rare for the daycare. None of the kids were too rowdy at all, which Rantaro was silently glad about. Rethinking the day's events- or lack thereof -he made his way to the door, getting his keys out to lock up the classroom. Next stop, the nurse’s office.
It wasn't too far from his classroom, another thing he was glad about. He hoped Kaede hadn't left yet, but she was usually still here at the end of the day. He peeked in, and there she was at her desk. A few random trinkets sat on it, alongside some sticky notes, a desk plate with her name and her position on it, and a picture of Kaede and a group of other friends. Rantaro could actually name a few of them. He knocked on the door, and she immediately perked up. 
"Come in!" Kaede said as she straightened herself out, placing her black pen back into her breast pocket. She always had it on hand, just in case she needed to write to her soulmate. Although it was obvious from the writing on her arm that all they really talked about was books and music anyway. Rantaro couldn't consider that silly though, he never had anything worth saying to his soulmate in the first place, so who was he to judge her?
He stepped into the office, scratching his arm lightly. Maybe all that scrubbing wasn't such a great idea. Upon seeing him, she lit up. Within a few seconds, she was already trying to show him her arm and explain everything they talked about. Most of it meshed together, but he made sure to listen intently.
"-And this is a book they recommended to me! I could probably find it on Amazon, right? But enough about me!" 
She grinned and pulled her arm back, now starting to pull her hair out of its ponytail. It was obvious to him that she wanted him to braid it, so he extended his hand and grabbed onto a strand of her hair, getting to work on braiding it.
"Tell me about you. How have things been?"
Somehow, her smile got wider. 
Rantaro shrugged as his fingers worked on sectioning the hair.
"Eh, same as always. Nothing much happens usually, y'know?"
Kaede nodded, almost messing up her braid.
"Agreed. Sometimes the routine is nice, but it's getting kind of awkward… Speaking of which, I need some advice," she said with a sigh. 
Oh, advice. He's good at that. Rantaro nodded as he folded one strand of hair over another, quickly forming a neat braid. Kaede took a short breath before diving into her issue.
"Recently, I gave my soulmate my phone number and we've been talking for a long… LONG time!"
She's right about that. Rantaro remembers when they first met, Kaede would often have writing all over her arms and sometimes even legs. Whoever her soulmate was, their hands must be tired from all that writing.
"And… We're thinking about trying to meet up. Do you think we should, or…?"
He left it at silence for a moment as he finished the braid, using a small elastic to hold it together.
"I say go for it. I mean, it's your soulmate after all. If you really want to, and you think it's safe, then what's the worst that could happen?"
Kaede looked at him with wide eyes, quickly straightening out her scrubs before grinning.
"Yeah, yeah! You're right! Thanks Taro, you're the best!"
She quickly gave him a hug before looking at the clock.
"Oop- Gotta go! Thank you again. Seriously, I don't know what I'd do without you." 
With a giddy squeal, she grabbed her bag off the chair and rushed out. That just left him… He'd have to lock up by himself, blegh.
-----------
A calm day was one in a million, as was said among the staff of the daycare. Unfortunately, the statement was proven the next day, in more ways than one. For starters, all the kids seemed to have stored their energy for the exact day that one of the caregivers were unavailable, which left Rantaro with double the kids than usual. Hey, he's the Ultimate Child Caregiver, so he's supposed to be able to handle it. Still, Kaede promised she would help during her free time… Under the promise of free ice cream at the nearby diner of course. Healthy kids were just not her thing.
At the moment, it was roughly 2:30 pm, aka quiet time. Thank God. A good sum of the kids were asleep, besides one or two. The lights were off, and the only source of it was a small bit of sunlight streaming through the window. Rantaro was sitting next to it, with just enough light to see, as Sarah- one of the older girls -doodled with a giggle. He always let her color on his arms, it seemed to satisfy her creative spirit, and her parents seemed happy to not have their daughter come home with messy arms. She seemed pretty stuck on drawing flowers of all sizes, shapes, and colors. It was adorable to watch as she whispered a song to herself and filled in one of the flower's petals. 
Then, something unexpected happened. Sarah went back for another color, and Rantaro admired the colors on his arm, scanning each one carefully. Until he got to his palm. He gasped a little when he saw some words written in handwriting he didn't recognize… It was very child-like, but not messy, and all it read was 'What the fuck?'
Rantaro was less shocked about what it said, but more about how this was one of the few times, or rather the first time in a long time, that his soulmate wrote to him. Hell, when WAS the last time? Maybe this is the first time... Whatever it was, it immediately made him feel fuzzy. He leaned over to the marker box, and grabbed a purple one, quickly writing back in a neat print on his wrist; 'Hello to you too?'
Sarah yawned as she dug through the box again, her eyes shutting every so often. Quiet time didn't last forever, sadly, which prompted him to ask if she wanted to sleep. To that, she nodded and went to a free space on the mat. Wow… He watched in awe as the words formed on his skin, all by themself. No wonder Kaede liked this so much, it looked so cool to watch.
'Wasn't saying hi, but okay.'
Not the best first conversation, but it was something!
'Whatever, nice to meet you!' 
'Damn right'
A bit of an attitude… Rantaro switched to a red marker, just because he thought it looked better.
'So who are you?'
'A person'
'Wow, so impressive. I'm Rantaro!'
'Kokichi and your use of punctuation scares me'
He smiled to himself and looked at the clock. It's almost 3 pm, and he'd have to wake up the kids. No way he was doing that with all this writing on his arm though, no way. He looked back at his arm and tried to fit in as much as he could in as little space as possible. 
'I hate to cut this so short, but I've got stuff to do! If you want I could probably write something later, but right now I need to wash this off. Does that sound okay?'
He was already standing up and walking over to the sink while waiting.
'You didn't need to write an essay for that, but okay'
With that, the scrub process is repeated again, effectively getting out the words and leaving his arms nice and clean. Of course, Sarah would be a little disappointed that her work got washed off, but it's nothing she can't do again. For now, Rantaro spent the last small chunk of quiet time thinking about how nice it felt to finally get a reply… Oh did he have high hopes, and unknown to him right now, they would certainly be exceeded. 
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youcantkillamutant · 5 years ago
Text
The Advocate: Three Weeks Before Finals
Author: youcantkillamutant
Fandom: Marvel (Black Panther)
Pairing: Erik Stevens/Killmonger x Black!OC
Summary: Lex is just trying to get through senior year without failing anything massive, so when she sees a lamb on her running route she ignores it, mostly.
Warnings: Cursing, Mention of Death (Human & Animal)
Words: 3K+
A/N: Hi….Remember me? Yeah. I’m still here, this time with a God!Erik AU. *shrug*. I only own my original characters of course, Marvel don’t sue me I’m broke.
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3 Weeks Before Finals
“Get out!”
“I am. I just wanted to check my—” Flashcards. One can never over-prepare. Right?
“No. Non. Nope. No m’am.” Ruby turned Lex by her shoulders. “You promised last week that you would relax. Pinky promised! So go have your weird picnic.”
“But—”
“No buts! I’m leaving you a bath bomb by the tub, and you better use it when you get back.” Lex felt a wave of affection for Ruby. Over the years she had surpassed roommate status and built herself a home in Lex’s heart. Lex opened her mouth to thank Ruby, but Ruby had already opened the door.
“I know, I’m the absolute best and you love me most. Now go!” With a shove, Lex was out the door and Ruby slammed, screaming a muffled ‘love ya!’ through the wood.
“Love you too Ru.” Shaking her head, Lex made her way to the stairs, sliding on a pair of cat eye sunnies and adjusting the basket on her arm. Today is going to be a nice, wonderful even, but most importantly relaxing, day. Hopefully.
*^*
“So how exactly are you getting out of this Cousin?” Erik was sat in the dungeons of Eko, where the sky meets the earth in a clash of thunder and splash of waves. It’s probably the closest he’s been to the earth below in a few dozen decades. Glossy and clean, the cell wasn’t uncomfortable, especially not for a God, but it was annoying. His prank was harmless, and suddenly the Elders are yelling at him about ‘disrespect’ and ‘ineptitude’.
“First of all, this is ridiculous. It was one prank!”
“One out of a billion.” Shuri noted sharply.
“Exactly! What makes this one so special? Why are the Elders mad about this? They hardly pay attention to us nowadays. Since when are they sticklers for the rules Shu?”
“It is…strange that they’re truly upset with you.”
“See! You know I’m right. Something is going on.”
“You may be right, but you can hardly prove it.”
“Yet. I can’t prove it yet.” Erik’s face had twisted into something fierce and contemplative. Shuri shook her head.
“You know, your scheming is what got you into this mess in the first place. Besides, mother and I have a plan for you. One that the Elders have already approved.” Shuri handed him a file. Erik’s eyebrows shot up, They hadn’t bothered with paper in a few dozen centuries. Then he opened the file.
It had the picture of a girl, cute, but unknown to Erik. She had a warm smile and dark circles under her eyes, wide lips and a button nose. Her name was on the next file, along with her date of birth, age, height, blood type, lineage and even her weight. Apparently, she was a student descended from good stock. If Erik thought back hard enough, he might have remembered fighting with the girl’s great-great-grandfather in some unholy war.
“Who the hell is this?”
“Your Advocate.” Shuri shrugged when Erik recoiled.
“She’s human. She doesn’t even have a degree. Or a drop of godly blood.”
“Actually we’re still running the tests on that one, but that’s not the point. She doesn’t know much about us, but she’s smart and fair. The Elders have approved her. They believe she’ll be unbiased with…everything.”
“Everything? What do you mean everything?”Erik figured he’d be out in a years time, five at most. No longer than a blink for a god his age. The Elders rarely bothered to hold grudges with Gods like him. He was too important for the balance to be indisposed for too long.
“There’s to be a trial.” Shuri could literally see Erik’s anger as veins of gold rose up his arms, trailing towards his neck. “Before you get upset! It was either a trial or immediate exile.” Shuri had expected this to blow the wind out of his sails, but Erik only grew angrier.
“So my only chance of coming out of this is a little human? I’ve never even met the girl!” He pounded on the bars of his cell annoyed that he was beginning to feel the chill of vibranium bars.
“Exactly. I’ve convinced the Elders that if you can convince the Advocate to help you, you deserve a trial. Led by Wakandan law and defended by her of course.” It was actually the most she could get the Elders to agree to. Even as she sat pleading on her knees, the Elders merely raised a brow and nodded in irritated acquiescence.
“Well where is she?” Erik looked around Shuri, but knew his ‘Advocate’ wasn’t around. He would have noticed a human on Eko. He wasn’t the Gatekeeper, but he knew energies.
“Erik, you don’t actually think the Elders would allow her into Eko without you convincing her first.” Erik rolled his eyes ad let his head fall against the wall.
“Now how am I supposed to do that from a cell Shuri?”
“You and I both know you can be resourceful. Pranking is not your only skill.” Erik stared up at the ceiling as Shuri walked away, wishing for the first tie since his imprisonment that his father was still around. At least he could give him some strength. Unfortunately, Erik would have to bolster himself.
“Good luck Cousin!” She didn’t bother saying anything else as she exited the cell. If Erik couldn’t get his Advocate on his side, then those might be the last words she ever said to him. Better to keep them jaunty rather than grave.
*^*
It was hot. Not unbearable, but not ideal either. The sun wasn’t shy today, finally breaking through the clouds that had been hanging over town. Still Lex trundled her way towards her favorite running path on campus. Huge shades covered her eyes, lips pursing in the heat and a wicker basket swinging on her arm. She’d borrowed the basket from the only pair of her friends that she classified as adults: Tom and Lucie. Though they were all around the same age, the couple had a nice little apartment, and emanated an air of togetherness that Lex couldn’t imagine having as a scattered grad student.
Lex pulled out her phone to share her location with Ruby at the entrance to the running path. Nothing had ever happened to her, but plenty of people had plenty of stories. The path was attached to some National Park and so long as you had your university ID, you could get into the thick of it for free.
On a running day, Lex found herself going ten or so miles, but today she just wanted to make it to her favorite little meadow. She wasn’t completely stressed, and so she didn’t need the run to get rid of excess energy pulsing through her. Today was a day to relax. Wiggling her toes in her shoes, Lex set off along the path.
It took nearly an hour, but she made it. By now, sweat made her skin sticky and the breeze came and went every now and then wrapping her tight and releasing her to the relentless heat of the sun. The meadow was just as nice as it always is, quiet and simple. A bed of grass dotted with toadstools, wildflowers and shrouded in peeling sycamores. The sun filtered through the leaves and the wind enticed them to dance, like a nature-made disco ball.
There was a vignette of three old tree trunks, stripped white and smooth. There was one in the center, nearly half her height, and some days, Lex could see bunnies and birds flitting around the area. Not today it seems. She shrugged, pushing away the irrational sadness at not seeing her usual gaggle of woodland creatures today, and shook out her blanket.
Lex kept her head low while pulling out her lunch letting the sun warm her neck for a bit. Remnants of fresh brie cheese were wrapped in kente printed beeswax, water crackers, a freshly chopped apple and another for the road. A turkey and swiss stacked with tomatoes, onions and lettuce on beautifully brown rye bread; fresh bread being one of the only things Lex splurges on weekly. A bottle of tea completed the setting, glass bottle winking in the sunshine.
Lex sank into the blanket, feeling a few blades of grass poking through the soft blanket as the tree roots cradled her. Eyes closed, she inhaled deeply, letting the exhale force any tension out of her body. When she blinked her eyes open, ready to eat, there was a brown lamb next to the tree stump, not even a breath away.
*^*
“I suppose you’ve heard the news Auntie. I’m to convince an ‘Advocate’ to help me.” Erik let out a bark of a laugh. “Can you imagine, the life of a God in the hands of a human. A tragedy for the storybooks, huh?”
“As far as I remember, you’re meant to be convincing that human to help you, so instead of belittling her, why don’t you get to work?”
“I already have. I’m just waiting to see if she bites.” And to see if she’s as ‘fair’ as Shuri says.
Ramonda raised her left brow tempted to ask more of her nephew. Did he not see that his place in the Godly court was at stake? Instead he lazes around in his cell waiting for a human to what? Rise to his bait? Briefly she wondered if this was something he learned from his time in the human world. They had lost track of him when he was small; Chaos and Kindness searched high and low for the little God. Still it took them a decade or so to find him and when they did…Ramonda shook the thought from her head as Erik spoke.
“What are you doing here, my dear Auntie?”
“Since you asked Nephew, I’m here because the Advocate was my idea. And I fear I would be remiss in my duties as your family if I did not help.”
“You’re helping me?” As the Goddess of Order, Ramonda had curled her lip at Ertumke the day he was born. A child born of Chaos and Kindness was never bound to be her favorite. Still she did her duties as a Godmother, not that the child seemed to care.
“Contrary to popular belief I do care about you Ertumke. You’re my nephew. Though irritating and often ridiculously dramatic, you are family. And you were the first to put a smile on T’Challa’s face when his father left.” There was a wave of silence as the sentence settled, but Ramonda breathed life into her body again in an instant. “Shuri did the hard work of getting the Elders’ approval. Now I’m happy to induct the girl but please Ertumke, no games.”
He seemed to think about this for a while, tapping his chin and studying his Aunt. They’d never been particularly close, Erik had always favored Shuri out of the lot of them, but then again, Ramonda had never done him harm. Even now she looked uncomfortable in his presence, but I suppose that makes sense. He is the child of Chaos. Order never sat well with him.
“I asked for Shuri and they sent you.” Erik had clanked an empty cup against the glass of his cage, barked a few orders at a Dora and waited. He should have known they weren’t going to get Shuri. Those demigods never get anything right.
“She’s been in the lab for a while, I wouldn’t want to break her concentration.” Ramonda knew just about everything of Shuri’s life except what happened in her lab. As far as she was concerned it wasn’t her business, or her speed. She’d much rather influence a few architects than spend her time trying to understand Shuri’s latest invention for the world below.
“Oh, Shuri couldn’t help her big cousin cause she’s in the middle of an invention orgy? Good for her.” Erik smirked and stroked his chin.
“That is my daughter you’re speaking about Ertumke.”
Erik shrugged. It’s not like he was actually talking about sex, which would have actually been normal for Gods like him. No, Shuri spent hours and hours in a lab, inventing and came out looking like she had just rolled through sheets with some of Eko’s finest. Still, he said nothing more on the subject, knowing that he should be grateful anyone came down to the dungeons at all. It was such an odd temperature here for Gods. Nearly cold enough to raise goosebumps.
“I would greatly appreciate your help Auntie.” Erik’s voice was more of s rumble than a clear sentence, and Ramonda’s mouth fell open in shock. There is a first time for everything she supposed. Even Ertumke asking another for help.
“Would you like some water? I thought you were choking on your pride for a moment there.” Erik cut his eyes her way with a minimal amount of heat and she laughed.
“I wish you had called for us earlier. You’ve already sent out your, bait?” Erik nodded though Ramonda barely paid him any mind, releasing a heavy sigh. “I’ll be late.” this time Erik really did choke on a laugh.
“You’re worried about being late? You’re a God. We invented time.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being prompt Erik. Especially in a situation like this.” Besides, the Goddess of Order absolutely despised tardiness.
*^*
The lamb merely blinked at Lex. She froze, wondering what the hell was going on. Sure she’d seen rabbits and a few deer on the running path, it was a national park after all, but she’d never seen a lamb. She’d actually never really seen a lamb outside of a petting zoo, and that was ages ago.
This lamb, brown and unmoving, glowed gold in the sun. It’s fur had hints of red and curled like hers, in tiny kinky knots. It’s ear twitched as Lex exhaled and she froze again. The next time she breathed out, it tilted its head towards her.
“Uh…hi.” An ear twitched at the sound of her voice, but that was it. Still, she couldn’t pick up her sandwich, not while that little lamb sat there, looking at her.
Scooping the extra apple out of her basket, Lex approached the tree stumps. The lamb gazed on, black eyes unblinking. She’d taken off her shoes and socks and the grass beneath her feet was warm. The weeds circling the stump of the tree gave way the Lex’s knees as she knelt down to drop the apple before the lamb.
When she glanced up, just for a second, she saw the lamb dripping golden ichor from a crown of black thistles. Surrounded by torches and granite, the lamb was on an alter. But then she blinked, and the image was gone. Shaking her head, Lex wandered back to her blanket and ate her lunch. She was probably imagining things anyways, breakfast had slipped through the cracks in favor of another few hours of studying before Ruby woke up and berated her for it.
Lunch was delicious, the bread and brie especially. As she ate, Lex could feel tension slipping from her shoulders. She’d been coming on this path for years, and there was nothing like sitting out here. The natural sounds coaxed her worries away, and her eyes slipped closed under the sun.
When she woke an hour or so later, the apple was gone along with the beautiful brown lamb.
*^*
“Hallelujah!”
“Ruby, Jesus!”
“You look relaxed! You actually chilled out!” Ruby let out a whoop in Lex’s ear. “Though I see you haven’t used the bath bomb yet.” Ruby leaned into her neck for a whiff. “And you really should.”
“God okay, I just got back Ru.”
“I know, I know. Okay,” She plucked the basket from Lex’s arm and turned her towards the bathroom. “Go take a bath and soak in all of the serenity you found today. I’m ordering us takeout and then we’re watching crap TV!” Lex rolled her eyes as she stumbled to the bathroom.
The sunny day had taken more out of her than she imagined. She could still feel the heat on her skin as she undressed, and couldn’t stop thinking about that lamb. Sure she’d seen bunnies on the trail before, but never a lamb. Turning the hot water on, she let the tub fill as she grabbed her speaker and phone.
Light synth beats and soft piano chords filled the bathroom along with the steam, and Lex twisted the water off. Sitting on the floor, leaning over the edge of the tub, she let the bath bomb plop into the water. Closing her eyes as the bomb fizzed away, her mind drifted. She slipped into the glossy purple water absentmindedly relishing in the heat that prickled every inch of her skin.
This is always the best part of a bath. When the day is done, chores and homework taken care of, and you have to do is let the water ground you. Any movement, even your breath creates a soft current in the tub, encouraging the water to lap at your skin in a continuous embrace. Lex loved this moment, letting her head fall back as her eyes drifted shut.
When she blinked her eyes open, the album was drifting to a close and the lamb was back. In her apartment. In her bathroom. Lex jumped and water sloshed over the tub, crawling towards the lamb. She thought the steam was crafting illusions, but when she rubbed her eyes and blinked them open again, the lamb was still there. Steam swirled through the air as the lamb stood unblinking.
On a whim, Lex reached out a hand, palm open, water dripping from her fingers onto the mess on the floor. There was no way this was actually happening. Ruby would have noticed a lamb walking through the apartment, right?  
“Hey, little one. What are you doing here?” Just like earlier, the lamb cocked its head at her words. Then it stooped down and licked a bit of water from the tiles. When Lex blinked again, the lamb was gone. Lex sat back gazing at the ceiling and wondering what the hell was happening.
It must be the heat. After napping out in the sun, and then a warm bath, she must just be experiencing some extreme heat exhaustion. Or some—
“Lex!” Ruby’s voice was higher than she’d ever heard it before, which raised an alarm. Ruby hated sounding shrill, she said it reminded her too much of her mom. Wrapping herself in a towel Lex hustled out of the bathroom and stopped short. Ruby was sitting on the couch in front of a woman. A woman in glowing robes.
“Um…hi?”
“Hello, Alexandra. I trust you are well.”
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A/N: *peaking out from behind a luscious palm* Hi everyone! I hope you’re all doing well! I never meant to leave things this long, but I got distracted with building stuff to redo my room and then starting a new job just as Rona got her feet on the ground. 
I’ll admit I’m pretty nervous about posting this story. After being away for so long, it feels like I should just dip my feet back in and start slow. I’ll be honest I haven’t written in a WHILE. I’m kind of afraid I forgot how to write? lol *yikes* I’d love to know what y’all think, and I’m going to try to be a little more active in posting this story. 
As I said before, I’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for a year and some change now (I think), and I was inspired by Champion by killmongersgurl.
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Taglist: @princessstevens @muse-of-mbaku @k-michaelis@queenamaniii@dreadedphilosphy@killmongurl@thelovelyliterary@elaindeereads @thedom223 @muse-of-mbaku@bidibidibombaclaat@panthergoddessbast @writingmarvellousimagines@someareblindtoitsbeauty@jozigrrl@iamrheaspeaks @purple-apricots@thadelightfulone@janelledarling @killmongersgurl
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