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soulmate-game · 3 years

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Useful Part 2

fluff with a little hurt and comfort. If you want answers as to the lack of angst, look through my recent posts for an explanation.

—* — * — * —* —*

“Wait, you have a WHAT?” were the first words that the rest of the Gotham-based vigilantes heard when they finally were able to track down where Damian had gone. Dick looked over at Bruce, who was noticeably tense. No surprise there, the man had just found out that he had a second biological child. One who was apparently a superhero already, without his intervention, and also apparently had a tragic background in the League of fucking Assassin Assholes. Not to mention that Damian’s track record with meeting siblings wasn’t great, even if this one wasn’t actually new to him. Nobody had any real fear of Damian relapsing on his no-kill rule, they knew he had matured far too much to be at risk of killing for something as immature as sibling rivalry anymore.

But there was still fear. Because this new Wayne was an Unknown Factor, and as a rule the Bats hated Unknown Factors. And they had no idea what the relationship between the two had been before they had been separated, or what it would become now.

“That wasn’t Damian’s voice,” Dick helpfully pointed out the obvious. Bruce only frowned, doing his best (and failing) to hide his anxiety about what they would find. Silently, the group inched forward to the edge of the abandoned building they were on top of so that they could look over at what was happening. What they saw was a girl, presumably the same one who had been in a ladybug onesie and had fearlessly begun to ask them to leave Paris— until she had laid proper eyes on Robin and fled, that was. That girl was sitting down next to an unmasked Damian, who had his arm around her shoulders and let her lean into his side. He even smirked cheerfully at her question before continuing to speak to her.

“A dragon-bat. I knew you’d love hearing about him, I’ll introduce you when you come visit the Batcave. His name is Goliath,” Damian admitted smugly. Despite the familiar attitude and pride behind his words though, his spying family couldn’t help but notice that he kept periodically rubbing the girl’s (they really needed to find out her name) shoulder in reassurance. None of them missed the tear tracks on both of their faces, or how red the girl’s eyes were. Clearly they had missed something big.

But nobody wanted to try to figure that out yet. This scene was too precious, too breathtaking for them to interrupt just yet. They had never seen Damian this vulnerable around someone outside of their little circle before, someone from the Time Before Bruce, no less. Most of the time, only Nightwing was able to see this side to Damian. And usually the roles were reversed, with Damian being the one consoled. They had never seen him in the position of the comforter before. The pillar of support.

It really cemented just how far he had come.

So they watched silently as the girl flinched, pulling away a bit and hunching in on herself. The laugh she let out was small and overflowing with self-degradation.

“You make it sound as if the rest of your family actually wants me to visit,” she replied sourly. Damian gently cuffed her over the head, frowning.

“Two things,” he held up two fingers from his free hand. “One: They will. They accepted me, and I was— well, you remember how I used to be. Once they actually meet you, and process the fact that there’s another Wayne now, they will bombard you with more welcoming than you will know what to do with. Two: It’s Our family, Marinette. Not mine, ours.”

Well, at least they had a name now. But it seems like they had bigger issues now, like Marinette’s clearly damaged sense of self. Jason and Tim traded knowing glances; it wasn’t hard for them to guess where, or how, she might have been damaged enough to think so lowly of herself.

They watched as Marinette shook her head.

“I don’t know. It’s one thing to try to… to get to know you again. We used to be close before… everything,” she haltingly argued, voice small and frail and uncertain. But she never once looked away from Damian’s eyes, trying to convey as best as she could what she was feeling. “But they’re different. They don’t have any reason to trust or like me, Dami. And I’m bad at, well everything, but especially,” she waved her hands frantically as if indicating the whole situation they were in. “I mean, listen to me! I can barely articulate right now, and I’m talking to someone I’ve known my whole life! I’m a mess. Nobody wants a mess.”

It was Damian’s turn to snort, and he pulled her right back into his side. “Please. If anything, that’s exactly the type of child Father goes looking for. We’re all a mess. Especially Father, trust me.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she accused suspiciously, but sank into his sideways embrace anyway. Damian chuckled.

“No, I’m being honest. He’s terrible at emotions, not that I really have much room to talk. We all are pretty bad with them. But he’s the most obvious when it comes to that issue,” Damian smirked over at his sister conspiratorially. “For example. He still tries to tell people that he works alone, and pushes people away because he has this intense desire to protect, but doesn’t know how to say “I don’t want you to get hurt, stop worrying me,” so instead he says “Go away, I don’t need you,” only for us to see through that nonsense and remind him that the amount of people in his team is in the double digits already. He doesn’t want to admit he cares about us and is vulnerable—”

“Sounds familiar,” Marinette teased with a watery grin, startling a short laugh from her twin. He nudged her a little roughly (but not to roughly) and playfully glared at her. Marinette just giggled.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he lied with a grin before waving his free hand in dismissal. “Anyway. Another example. He has no idea how to tell a stranger, “hey, I’m your father and I will not reject you. In fact, I’m completely willing to adopt you right this moment and whisk you away to Gotham and relative safety and hire an entire team of therapists to help you and buy you half the world if you asked for it,” so instead he and the rest of our emotionally constipated family just lurks on the edge of a building in broad daylight eavesdropping on us and expects us not to notice.”

“Wait what,” Marinette’s gaze instantly whipped up towards the sky, taking only half a second to locate the aforementioned eavesdroppers. Everyone except Bruce at least had the courtesy to duck down and pretend not to be there when they noticed she had seen them, leaving Batman standing seemingly alone on the concrete roof. Marinette blinked once. Twice. Then turned to Damian. “I’m gonna blame the fact that I didn’t notice them on emotional turmoil, because there is no way I’ve gotten THAT rusty.”

Damian smiled, but didn’t laugh. He knew that was a deflection to try and distract from Marinette’s quickly resurging self-consciousness. Her hands were already trembling again, and the fear from only minutes ago had resurfaced. The insecurity. He could practically see the words “I’m not good enough,” written in her irises.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispered, standing up and pulling her with him. “If anyone has to worry here, it’s me.”

“What the hell are you talking about?�� Marinette whisper-hissed right back, eyes wide in disbelief and confusion. “You’re— You! Mister Perfect!”

Damian rolled his eyes, and his self-deprecating smirk matched the laugh Marinette had given just a few minutes earlier. “For the League, maybe,” he shrugged. “Never the Wayne family. Which is why I know you’ll be fine. If they put up with everything I’ve done and still call me one of them, they’ll accept you with barely a second thought.”

Marinette’s next argument was cut off by the sound of a dozen soft footfalls stirring up dirt not far ahead of them. The BatClan had landed from the rooftop.

Marinette gulped.

But if there was one thing— one thing she still remembered from her days as Marie Al-Ghul, it was how to fake pride and confidence. She straightened her shoulders automatically, lifted her chin, and pulled away from Damian’s supporting arm around her shoulder. Damian let her.

A little bit of old resentment flared up in him as he saw Batman walk up close enough to comfortably talk with them. Resentment that he no longer held onto, but that had haunted him nearly every night of the first two years he spent with his dad. The realization that maybe his twin was the one that was meant to be a Wayne. Marie had the blue eyes, the compassion, the more specifically detective-oriented mind. The calm head. Sometimes. Marie was exactly who he imagined when he thought of a naturally born member of the BatClan. Stubborn, clever, morally just. She had risked immediate death just because she refused to fight him, for crying out loud. Because she didn’t want to hurt the boy who used to be her best friend. The only ally she had ever had, growing up.

Meanwhile, he still had issues reigning in his anger sometimes. He had too much blood on his hands, he was more of a battlefield tactician than a long-term strategist. Still stubborn, but also completely unaware of the pain he brought others with his words or actions a lot of the time. He used to be such a rage fueled little demon, and thinking about how his sister fit the classic Wayne outline more thoroughly than he did had made him destroy more than a few practice dummies in frustration.

But now, looking at Marinette trying so hard to appear strong and proud when he knew she was still so shattered inside, relief overpowered the old and dull resentment. This was what she needed, he could sense that easily. She, just like him all those years ago, needed Bruce and the others to start to heal her and reforge what the League had badly molded.

“... Marinette, I suppose?” Damian nearly facepalmed at his father’s awkward attempt at a conversation starter. Marinette herself was clearly too keyed up and overthinking things to even register any amusement at the lame attempt, merely nodding with an overly serious expression on her face.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Monsieur Wayne. Or that’s my name nowadays, that is,” She stumbled a little in her response before clenching her fists and forcing herself to continue as calmly as she could muster up. “My birth name was Marie Al-Ghul.”

Bruce’s eyebrows visibly furrowed underneath his cowl. “Was?”

“I…” Marinette finally looked away, shame creeping back onto her face. “I was explicitly told that I was stripped of the Al-Ghul name and would be killed if I ever dared lay claim to it again. So I not-so-legally changed it. And I was later adopted.”

Several sharp gasps or the hiss of breath through teeth bit through the quiet breeze. Nobody was necessarily surprised, Marinette could see it when she looked through her eyelashes and examined the winces and sympathy on the faces of the vigilantes before her. Batman’s shoulders were stiff, as if someone had paralyzed only his shoulder blades.

“And the people who adopted you?” Batman pursued. Marinette couldn’t read his tone very well, but it sounded vaguely angry so she quickly raised her hands in a placating gesture and her eyes widened significantly.

“They’ve been amazing! They don’t know anything about my past, or who raised me, but they are endlessly patient with me. I mean, honestly! Sabine caught me when I was trying to steal one of her gold bracelets in Hong Kong— and I know I’ve never been as good of a combatant as Dami, but I’ve always been better at sleight of hand and stealth so honestly that’s impressive— and she saw my dirty eight-year-old face and for some reason decided, ‘yeah I want this one as my daughter’ and roped Tom right into it and next thing I know they somehow tailed me to my hideout? I still don’t know how the hell they managed that, but Tom had a huge plate of steaming buns and I was so hungry and suddenly it’s two years later and I’m adopted and we’re on a plane to Paris—” Marinette threw up her hands. “I still don’t fully grasp what happened sometimes.”

She belatedly seemed to realize that she had just gone on an entire breathless rant at the speed of sound, and slapped her hands over her mouth before lunging into a deep bow. “I apologize! I spoke horridly out of turn!”

To her surprise though, she was met with a soft laugh instead of a scolding. She jerked in surprise, whipping her head up only to see Batman holding a hand over his chin to hide his large grin. It only took another second for the boys behind him to laugh a lot LESS softly. Nightwing strolled over casually and swung an arm around both her and Damian’s shoulders, playfully nudging her brother with his knee.

“I think she fits right in, don’t you little D?”

“Of course,” Damian scoffed, though his eyes were playful. “She is a Wayne by blood. She ‘fits in’ more than you strays.”

“Dami!” Marinette whipped back to him and puffed out her cheeks. “That was uncalled for!” she barked. Damian held his hands up in surrender.

“Relax,” he said as soothingly as he could manage. “They know I’m joking,” he dropped his hands and a knowing smirk took over his face. “And besides, now you’re relaxed so my plan worked,” Marinette could only blink at that. She… did feel more relaxed, actually. “Also. I told you you’d be accepted easily. They already consider you one of us.”

“Wha— there’s no way—” she frantically looked at each of the older men around her, but each of them just shot her a smile or grin and a short nod. Her shoulders and jaw both fell, and it broke a little of everyone’s heart.

Marinette looked so utterly shocked, bewildered to be accepted as if it was still something profoundly foreign to her. And there was that disbelief in her eyes, that distrust that screamed that she expected some sort of lie here. That told that she thought this would all crumble away at any second. If anyone had any reservations about bringing her into their inner circles, it vanished right that moment. She needed support, or she’d crumble away and they all knew it.

“How about we start by talking about the situation with Hawkmoth?” Red Robin spoke up, walking forward to stand beside Batman. “I assume that’s a little more in your element?”

Damian silently vowed to thank Tim later for that. In a silent, completely anonymous way of course. Couldn’t have Tim thinking they were friends or something now, could he? Marinette instantly straightened up and nodded, her confidence returning with a little more sincerity this time.

“Yeah. Yeah, let me transform again. It’ll be easier to explain.”

—*—*—*—*—*

It was three weeks later, on Marinette’s third now-weekly visit to the Batcave, when the question finally came up. Jason had asked to spar with Marinette for the first time, having seen her in action as Ladybug and wanting to test the girl when she didn’t have superpowers to rely on. Damian hadn’t been down in the cave to warn him, and the result was Jason’s gut sinking as Marinette scrambled as far away from him as she could, eyes wide and chest heaving in the beginnings of a panic attack.

“Shit,” Jason muttered before he quickly knelt down and did his best to talk her down, to calm her until her breathing slowed and her pupils were back to normal. It wasn’t long afterwards that Marinette started hugging herself, refusing to look at him. But he wasn’t going to just back down, he wanted to solve this issue. If even the mere suggestion of a spar was enough to set her off, he needed to figure out why and fix it.

So he carefully lowered himself so he was sitting only a foot away from her, resting his arms across his knees casually.

“Sorry,” he apologized. “Didn’t think it would be a sore subject. That’s on me.”

Marinette just shrugged, but didn’t answer him. She just buried her face in her arms and took a shaky breath.

Jason let the silence linger for a while before trying again. “Does this have to do with certain Asshole Assassins?”

That startled a slightly hysterical bark of laughter from her, and she had to wipe away a few tears when she raised her head and finally turned it in his direction slightly. Not enough for her to be looking at him, but just a subtle turn to show that she was listening and speaking to him. “Yeah.”

“You know, you never told us why you got disowned,” Jason tried to make his words as casual as possible, but wasn’t surprised when Marinette still stiffened and took a sharp breath. He didn’t push. The stage was set, and he’d wait until either she took the opportunity to open up or told him to leave well enough alone. Her tongue flicked out to wet her lips, and her foot tapped on the ground a bit. Clear signs of her anxiety around the subject, and Jason’s hopes vanished a little. He would probably have to wait longer for her to be ready to share.

But, to his pleasant surprise, he was wrong. She took another few minutes to gather her thoughts, but she did eventually open up to him.

“I refused to fight Damian,” she admitted. “It was… We were seven. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight to the death, but it was a very important spar. We were using live weaponry, and we were told to fight until we couldn’t anymore. Whoever fell first would be relegated as a mere soldier, and have to fight for status like any other assassin in the League. The winner would officially be named as G— as Ra’s Heir. I didn’t want to fight, because I knew Damian would win but I also knew that it wouldn’t be as easy as Ra’s probably expected if I gave it my all like he wanted. I knew both Damian and I would be heavily injured if I did as he asked, and it wouldn’t be worth it. If I misjudged anything, any single hit, I could have accidentally injured Damian permanently and ruined his worth in Ra’s eyes, and that wasn’t an option. I didn’t care that throwing the fight was as good as giving up my life, because at least I could be sure that Damian kept his. I could make sure that he was treated well, or as well as anyone could hope for in the League anyway. I could, with only a few words, make sure he became indispensable. Ra’s and Talia never liked me as much as Damian anyway, I figured… I figured it was nobody’s loss,” She swallowed heavily, clenching her eyes shut. “I was always just the spare. The extra. Damian was their crown prince, the one with actual value. Even to me. I saw him, and I saw everything I wanted to be. I… I tossed down my weapons and let him stab me, because I figured I owed it to him for being such a failure in comparison to him. That I owed it to him to do everything I could to make things easier for him, since I was just an unnecessary obstacle—” strong arms wrapped around her, and she turned to sob into Jason’s chest as he just silently held her.

“Idiot,” Damian whispered, making Marinette jump. Her twin sat only a few feet away, though only Jason would have known when exactly he had gotten there with them. He shook his head at her. “I never would have gotten as far as I did without you,” he whispered, looking up at the cave ceiling. “You were the only real rival I had. When you left, everything was either too easy or nearly impossible, nothing was the same as trying my best against someone who was just as good as me. And when I got here and met the others, I didn’t think any of them were worthy of taking your position, you know,” he scoffed a bit as he got lost in his memories. “That’s why I hated Tim for so long, I think. He reminded me of you so much that I wanted nothing more than to punch him for daring to replace you—”

“Heh, the Replacement twice over, huh?” Jason joked. Damian chuckled with a small eye roll.

“Plus, he just has a really punchable face,” Damian added, trying to distract from the emotion behind everything he had just admitted. “Part of me thought you were dead. The other part refused to believe that. And seeing Tim and how some of his mannerisms were the same as yours,” Damian shrugged a little. “It stung. Especially that second year, when I started to regret that you never had the chance to come here and join them with me. Meet them with me.”

Marinette sniffled. “... Who are you and what have you done with Dami? He’s never this sappy.”

Damian flicked a pebble at her head with a good natured glare, successfully diffusing the serious air a little. Marinette wouldn’t ever be normal, and it would take a while before she was no longer fragile, but she could get there. Especially now that her bridges with her brother had been mended, and and a whole new family had cropped up to help support her.

She was glad Damian had convinced her to try, again.

#maribat #platonic daminette #sibling daminette #bio!dad au #bio!dad bruce wayne #ml x dc #mlb x dc #Useful

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smelted-applejuice · 3 years

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Babysitting Duty.

Parings; c!Sapnap x Reader (PARENTAL), c!BadBoyHalo x Reader Pronouns; she/her Desc; You’ve never been great with kids, you dont know why your boyfriend thought it would be great for you to babysit. You haven’t even met the kid!

requests are open!! -

[YourName] was asleep peacefully in her warm bed, not a worry in the world, until there was a loud banging on her door. She did her best to simply ignore the noise, but then she heard keys and the front lock unlock, and then she knew exactly who it was. [YourName] groaned, placing a pillow on top of her face and flopped onto her stomach, hoping if she simply ignored her boyfriend, he wouldn’t bother her too much. Maybe Bad had left something last time he visited and he was simply picking it up!

Her thoughts would be proven wrong when she heard her bedroom door open and weight on her back. “What the-” [YourName] groaned, she felt the pillow get picked up and thrown beside her, “Wakey, wakey!” Bad’s voice said gently. [YourName] tried to bury her head into her bed but felt her hair get pulled, “What the hell!?” [YourName] yelped. Bad gasped “Sapnap, you know better, no tugging hair.” he scolded picking up whatever weight was on your back. [YourName] went through her mind trying to figure out who Sapnap was.

[YourName] gasped, “Bad, if I lift my head and your child is in my room, I swear.” she deadpanned. Bad’s nervous laughter filled the room as [YourName] looked over, and there was Bad with a young toddler in his arms, “Bad! You should’ve told me-” [YourName] complained moving quickly and sitting up. She was obviously still in her nightclothes, but it didn’t stop Bad from placing the active toddler into his girlfriend’s lap, “I’m not even good with kids.” [YourName] said, glancing down at Sapnap who was slobbering on his hand.

“Nonsense, dear! You just need practice, and this is a perfect opportunity.” Bad cooed, [YourName] huffed but then realized what he meant. “What?! No! No way am I babysitting! I’ve never met the kid so I don’t know his interests, or what time he likes to eat!” [YourName] said panicked, Bad shrugged “He’ll tell you! He can’t talk, but he knows how to sign ‘eat’!” he said trying to ease his girlfriend’s worries “It’s not as bad as you think, dear!” he finished placing both of his hands onto her shoulders. “Want to explain why I am placed on babysitting duty?” [YourName] asked looking tired, her eyes were lidded and she had her arms wrapped around the slobbery toddler.

Bad swayed side to side, placing his hands behind his back as he did so, “Well, ya know- uhm..” he stumbled over his words for a moment. “I told Skeppy he could have the next two weeks off from babysitting Sapnap, but I didn’t account for the fact I still was needed in the Nether..” Bad confessed, [YourName] chuckled and shook her head trying her best not to laugh at him. “Know what, it’s fine, I don’t mind babysitting Sapnap- just nervous.” [YourName] replied in hopes it would relax her boyfriend’s worries about his son, “Anyways, he will be my step-son of the sorts one day.” she added winking toward Bad who nodded despite the flustered look he had on.

[YourName] offered Sapnap back to Bad so she could get ready for the day. Bad sat at the end of [YourName]’s bed and watched as she exited the bathroom fully dressed and then sat down to do her hair, “If I end up liking kids because of this..” she mumbled as she did the last touch-ups. Bad couldn’t help but chuckle at the soft conversation she would have with herself, it was always such a sight to see. He kept his hands on his son’s waist as Sapnap blanched on his thighs and slightly jumped in his spot gurgling at [YourName].

“Good, he likes me” [YourName] joked, happily taking the toddler out of her boyfriend’s hands. She placed Sapnap on her hip as she walked with Bad to the front of her house once more. “I’ll be back in a few hours, I promise. Before dinner.” Bad explained, kissing Sapnap’s head before leaning down and placing a gentle kiss upon [YourName]’s lips. [YourName] smiled and nodded, “Alright, we’ll see you then, be careful.” she reminded, watching her boyfriend leave before shutting the door.

Bad had truly come in clutch, on her couch were all of Sapnap’s necessities, puffs, food, toys, god he had it all! “Your daddy does not play games with you, huh?” [YourName] mumbled placing Sapnap on her living room floor, she gave the kid some toys and rushed to her kitchen to put her breakfast in the microwave and returned just as fast as she left. “Good, haven’t set anything on fire- I’m watching you kid, I’ve heard stories.” [YourName] said jokingly glaring at the toddler, Sapnap simply giggled and hid his face before returning focus on his ghast toy.

[YourName] shook her head, grabbing her food and returning to the floor. She and Sapnap would chill on the floor for a few hours, but after watching Sapnap nearly melting the plastic off of one toy and throwing a hissy fit, he finally gave in to his needs and placed his fingers together before pointing to his mouth with them. [YourName] sat there for a second squinting her eyes trying to figure out what the child was trying to say.

“HUNGRY! YOU’RE HUNGRY!” [YourName] said, snapping her fingers as she stood up quickly, she grabbed some food out of Sapnap’s bag. Sapnap watched [YourName] with a deadpan look as she scattered around to get a good spot to feed him, he crawled over and knocked some puffs off the table and kept himself busy until he was picked up and moved to a different location. Sapnap pouted at first, reaching for the little puffs he had dropped, [YourName] just scoffed, “No, Sap, they’re dirty, gross, disgusting… Uhm.. The feeling people feel when your daddy says ‘language’ at them.” she rambled.

She knew Sapnap had no idea what she was talking about, but still, one-hundred percent went with it. She couldn’t help but smile when she successfully fed Sapnap some warmed-up chicken bits, and it made her, even more, happier when Sapnap lightened up with each bite. He got some peach yogurt too which seemed to make up for the loss he had earlier with his puffs. After he was done, [YourName] took him out of his spot and let him crawl out the rest of his energy.

Finally came the part of babysitting she always dreaded, it was changing a diaper. She laid Sapnap out, and after many attempts of him escaping she got him to relax. “Pee on me, I dare you, you’re gonna see a whole different side of me, man.” [YourName] mumbled wrapping up Sapnap and changing his onesie, she picked up the kid and placed the dirty diaper in the trash can. Sapnap showed no signs of being tired and it was a little after eleven, nearly noon. He must’ve been up for, at most, an hour before coming over, so it’s been a good almost five hours.

“When do you nap?” [YourName] asked, scrambling around the kitchen making herself lunch, she glanced at the kid who just threw his head under her chin. “Mmm, now?” She asked, he shook his head, so [YourName] just nodded and finished up her lunch. It wouldn’t be until after she ate and did a few chores that Sapnap began to get fussy, so it was most definitely nap time! “Look, I could go for a nap too, Sap. Let’s get our nap on.” [YourName] said trying to compromise with the toddler.

[YourName] gently placed Sapnap down and placed a pillow next to him before crawling under her covers with Sapnap and letting the child cuddle up to her. [YourName] couldn’t fight the smile on her face as she gently ran her fingers through his black hair. “You’re so sweet..” She whispered placing a kiss against his hair, and within minutes the two were out. Sapnap would move onto his back while [YourName] kept a gentle hand on him at all times, too anxious to let the child go even as she slept.

About an hour later, Bad would come back. He had finished up earlier than he thought and thought he would get Sapnap off [YourName]’s hands now. After a few knocks and no answer, he unlocked the door himself and made his way through the house. Sapnap’s bag was opened and toys were scattered around the living room, and in the kitchen, the plastic baggy and tub that held Sapnap’s lunch were emptied, so he knew his child was well fed and played with. After more looking around, he made his way into the back and smiled at the scene in front of him.

He wished he had the ability to photograph the moment, it made him melt from the inside out just seeing [YourName] and Sapnap bond how they have today. The messy house told the whole story and he was overjoyed. He simply stripped of his boots and took his weapons off along with his glasses and crawled in behind [YourName], he held her close while [YourName] backed up against him embracing the added warmth Bad provided. Bad smiled at [YourName]’s hand lifting up and down, hearing Sapnap sigh heavily he leaned over and kissed his girlfriend’s cheek, placing his hand gently on top of her’s. He would fall asleep, the view in front of him coaxing him into the most peaceful nap he had have in a long time.

#dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #sapnap x reader #bbh x reader #badboyhalo x reader #badboyhalo #sapnap #mcyt

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peter-parcoeur · 3 years

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Good girl gone bad | (frat!tom)

request: How about frat cocky Tom at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and suck on him through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

disclaimer: Hiii, so this was a request (sadly anonymous but if you’re out there reading this, I hope you enjoy and this lives up to your expectations...) this is my first attempt at fratboy!tom so I apologize in advance if that’s not exactly what you expected from it or whatever. Also I’m french so, some unfortunate spelling mistakes may occur and for this I apologize too! (damn I do really know how to sell myself, don’t I?) Anyway, enjoy your reading and please give it a ♥ if you liked it and a comment if you either really liked or hated it. Annnnd I’m talking too much.

warnings: smut smut smutty smut is to be expected, obviously. includes: brat!tom, braggy!tom, boasting!tom and some serious potty mouth / enemies to lovers (well, more like enemies to fuckbuddies idk) / oral-sex / face-fuck / dirtyDIRTY talk/ fingering / brief mentions of self luuuuvin (that’s masturbation, for you) / dom!tom + sub!reader / I guess a little bit of humiliation and praise kink idk if that’s triggering so just in case... / roughness... I guess that’s it? probably enough already.

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« Come on, it’ll be fun! God knows you could really use some fun… » your friend’s voice almost begged over the phone as you safely locked it between your cheek and your shoulder to open the door to your dorm room, your keyrings grazing the piece of metal surrounding the lock with a soft, clicking noise.

“Yeah cause hanging out with complete morons as they get shit-faced on cheap vodka is totally my idea of a good night...”

“ Urghhhh, Y/N please, are you really gonna be a Grinch about it?”

“ Well, it’s a Christmas party so I guess that’s convenient?”

You could tell your friend was getting frustrated by now, the slight change of tone in her voice making her sound desperate. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your books above the mess on your desk, you immediately crashed onto your bed with a loud, exhausted groan as this never-ending day had managed to push every single one of your buttons. You felt completely drained and yet, your best-friend wanted you to join her to some frat-house where, apparently, the “most incredible” Christmas party was about to be held? Uh-uh. No way. Your actual plan for a Friday night (= eating take-out food in front of some true crime documentary on Netflix) seemed much more appealing than the effort your friend seemed to require from you.

“You’re really gonna bail on me? What if something happens to me?”

“Now this is guilt pressure and you’re so much better than this! “ You laughed, “plus… I know you wanna go just so you can make out with Harrison… You really don’t need me for this and truth be told, I really don’t need to see that guy shove his tongue down your throat!”

“Maybe YOU need someone to shove his tongue down your throat “

“I’ll pass, thanks “

“Come on, how long has it been since you’ve got laid? “

“That’s… way beside the point?””

Still, you thought about it.

How long has it been, really?

Well. As far as you could remember, there were a couple (disastrous) tinder dates at the beginning of the semester. Nothing major even though the sex was still okay. Then you had decided to delete the app so you could focus on your studies, thinking that, eventually, life would grant you with an actual IRL, cute boy who could actually work a little harder to get into your pants whereas it had taken a single swipe on a screen for the previous contestants.

But for now, as the semester had come to an end and Christmas break was around the corner, it only occurred to you just how busy you had been, studying all night long and running on fumes and gallons of coffee. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you truly needed to blow off some steam. Sometimes you wished you were more like her, carefree and less picky when it came to boys and random flings. Like her current crush, Harrison.

Harrison was a typical heartthrob with the face of a Greek God, so it was only natural for him to act like a brat and play with girls as he wished. With his piercing blue eyes and dreamy smile, girls could only wish he would look at them twice. But still, he wasn’t the worst part of Team Jackass, as you liked to call them. Their captain was actually Tom Holland. Football Quarterback, Tom collected girls’ hearts like trophies and held his pride within his questionable reputation. Party animal, heavy drinker and confirmed exhibitionist since he’d been caught fucking a cheerleader in the middle of the football field right after a game, his name was on everyone’s lips, whether they whispered gossips down the faculty’s corridor or muffled into a pillow as he dived into another naïve, besotted girl with the promise of an encore. To this day, all of the girls he had laid his eyes on were still waiting for a call-back.

You pulled a disgusted face at the thought of witnessing his little hunting game one more time. Tom was actually one of the main reasons why you usually skipped any frat party now. There were just so much time you could waste, sipping on some funky tasting “home-made” punch as “Football superstar” Tom Holland bragged about his athletic skills or how many girls he had fucked over the last couple days. Sometimes, it felt like a competition between him and his brain-dead friends. Somehow, you just knew he kept score of his one-night stands. Maybe he’d give you five stars for trying anal, a deep throat would give you another six and god forbid if you flattered his enormous, gigantic cock, well then, by all means, the throne would be yours. There was just something about him that screamed and irradiated praise kink.

“Y/N? Have I lost you?”

Your friend’s voice brought you back to reality as you seemed to have blacked out for a while.

Then, out of nowhere and unexpectedly, the words came out of your mouth.

“What time is the party then?”

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For every party, there’s a dress code.

Surely, a “Christmas” party just couldn’t be, without a fair splash of colorful jumpers or any subtle hints at Santa Clause as an excuse for a last-minute theme. Still, standing in front of what could only be Wednesday Addams’ wardrobe, you were suddenly hit by your lack of interest for any piece of clothes that wasn’t a shade between black and white. Was beige even a color anyway?

For a brief second, you considered wearing your infamous Christmas onesie, basically a fluffy one piece with a zipper, an oversized hood and covered with snowflakes and candy canes. The jokes would never end but no one could blame you for being ‘off theme’, then.

In the end, you settled for a rare “colorful” top which, luckily, happened to be whatever shade of green Christmas trees actually were. It was also skin tight and you knew for a fact it made your chest looks twice its size because of the way the velvet fabric enhanced your waistline. It was nowhere near provocative with its long sleeves and turtle-neck so you figured you could be a little bit more risky with the bottom part of your outfit, grabbing the black mini-skirt you’d bought a week before on a splurge, even though you didn’t know if you’d ever find the confidence to pull it off. It was short, there was no denying that as you turned around in the shop’s fitting room to catch a glimpse at your backside, knowing your whole ass would be exposed if you ever dared to bend down even so slightly.

Still, you felt sexy in it and as a girl who happily traded a sexy dress for yoga pants and an oversized hoodie, any piece of clothes that made you feel good about yourself was an instant buy.

Looking down at your final outfit as it laid down on your bed, a pair of nice ankle boots at the bottom of it, you patted yourself on the back for making the extra effort and walked to the bathroom for a well-deserved boiling shower. Staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you sighed to yourself as the aftermath of a sleep deprived week and lack of skin care routine or basic maintenance whatsoever hit you like a truck on the highway. Your hair had been wrapped into the same messy bun for days and it would definitely take some professional skills to cover up the bags under your eyes.

Maybe this party was the wake-up call you needed, the equivalent of a Judging look from your mother every time you visited her after a while. You could almost hear her complain about how unhealthy you looked and how you should wear more “flattering” clothes. Ironically, you also knew she would never approve the skirt you intended to wear that night. You remembered just too well that frown she’d given you at your father’s 60th birthday and how you had to gulp an entire bottle of red wine to forget about the fact the woman who gave birth to you had called you a prostitute for wearing a dress above the knees. Sometimes it’d be like that. Family gathering were like a plague, somehow, you just couldn’t escape it and it would either scar you for life or make you wish you were dead.

As you entered the cubicle, the coldness of the tiles hit you, covering your skin with goosebumps and sending shivers down your spine. It took you a couple minutes to adjust as you waited for the water to turn hot enough to coat the mirror with a thick foggy layer. Only then did you relax, letting go of this week’s emotionally charged weight upon your shoulders and focusing on yourself, at last.

It was a fairly long shower as you decided to go through your entire haircare routine instead of a brief, one minute shampoo. Not to mention the fact you also had to shave entirely as it felt like it would be a good way to get rid of this nightmare of a semester, like stepping out of your old skin and into a new one. Usually, body hair was probably too far down the list of your preoccupations to even be noticed but you figured, as you felt surprisingly motivated, now was the right time to make your body smooth as a baby. You actually loved the feeling of a soft, freshly shaved skin.

As you rinsed off the soap, your hands fondling the body parts water failed to reach, your mind unexpectedly wandered through some steamy thoughts as soon as your fingertips grazed your slit, taking some shy dip between your folds. It was no surprise that a simple, barely there stroke would instantly strike your arousal, after all, it had been a while. You shamelessly admitted that your studies had taken over your life, up to the point you’d even find yourself too exhausted for some self-love. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, the small collection of adult toys you owned were probably collecting dust in the middle of your socks and panties, wondering when they’d get to take a swim and make you squirm into your sheets as you hold on to the headboard, biting your lip until it turns white so you don’t scream through climax.

What struck you the most was the fact TomfuckingHolland came to your mind the very second your middle finger met your clit, circling it softly as you felt electricity spark through your legs, making it jolt. Why the hell was his stupid smug splattered all over your unspeakable thoughts when he was, by far, the last man on Earth you’d let come close to your naked self? Let alone in a shower cubicle the size of a shoe-box where you’d have no space whatsoever to escape his heavy, muscular chest.

His body looked ridiculously built for a man with the face of a 13 year-old. Sometimes you’d catch him randomly flex throughout the day, showing off his enormous biceps to anyone willing to praise his impeccable shape. There would be no room for these guns in there, you thought as a brief image of these massive arms shielding you from both side, fists tight against the tiles, came immediately to your mind. What took you by surprise wasn’t to actually picture Tom standing in there with you, naked and definitely willing to make that room a lot steamier, but the fact you slipped a finger into your surprisingly dripping core as soon as you imagined him stepping closer so your bare, sticky chests would meet, his obvious arousal poking at your inner thigh, begging to make an entrance.

You stopped before you inevitably came, even though your body craved for that well-deserved relief. You may have been hornier than you thought, but not nearly horny enough to hand your first orgasm in months on a silver plate to a boy who probably stroked himself in front of a mirror on a daily basis. Your thighs squeezed together where your fingers had left a desperate void, rinsing your entire body with a much colder water, hoping it would bring your sanity back.

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You looked incredible.

It wasn’t just you boosting your ego through a pep talk in front of your mirror back in your dorm this time, and even if you loved to give yourself an encouraging speech, praising whatever features you thought made the cut in the top three of your best assets as you gathered the strength to go out in public in an outfit pretty far from your comfort zone, nothing could ever beat the look people gave you as you walked into the frat house looking like a three courses meal. There was just something about that short time slot where you caught a gaze and knew what that look was all about.

You knew Liza, the head student with a soft spot for athletes so obvious she probably had the entire football team’s handprints tattooed on her skin, just hated to see you get the attention she usually caught. Athletes loved nerdy, smart-ass girls like her, but to her own despair, you actually happened to be one of those, only with a shorter skirt and thicker thighs.

You knew half of Team Jackass was already staring at you, wishing they’d catch a glimpse of whatever you had to offer underneath that impeccable outfit as the soft fabric of your skirt kept rising up, every step bringing you closer to an unfortunate peek at the plain, white cotton undies you had chosen to wear that night.

But above anything, you could most definitely feel someone’s gaze upon you, burning up your skin like lasers trying to scan through your clothes. Suddenly, you felt exposed and with a simple smirk, Tom-Holland came out, strong as ever, just so he could pop out the comforting bubble you had built around you. Of course, he had chosen to wear the tightest white tee-shirt so everyone could distinctively see each of his six, rock-hard abs. Of course, his sleeves were slightly rolled up to enhance his biceps and if you weren’t familiar with his despicable behavior, seeing him flex just so he could kiss the pumped-up mount irrupting from his upper arm like a fresh batch of popcorn on a stove, you could have barfed immediately at the disgusting sight of a man with an ego the size of a fucking comet.

For now, you simply rolled your eyes all the way to the back of your head and watched as he smiled cockily, his hand reaching out for a redhead girl’s cheek even though his eyes were most definitely undressing you from afar. You could tell the girl had dressed to impress as she was tightly wrapped into the just-slutty-enough version of Santa’s outfit. Basically a velvet red dress with a fluffy white strap on top of her bustier. The way she laughed and twirled her long curly strand of hair as she gazed lovingly at Tom was enough for you to know she would soon join the never-ending list of names on his score board.

Shaking your head at how easy it seemed for him to get laid within the first hour of a party, you made your way to the kitchen where the alcohol seemed to be. As expected, most students were already sipping at some questionable cocktail right from the bowl with a straw and since you didn’t feel like going straight for the strong stuff, you settled for a beer, fiddling with the bottle cap for a solid minute before you heard a voice coming from behind your back.

“Need some hand with that, sweetheart?”

The cocky tone and thick accent immediately sent you off as a long, single shiver ran down your spine from the disgusting thoughts it brought along. It had come to the point you couldn’t even stand his stupid voice.

“I’m fine, thanks” you lied, your first still tightly gripped on your sealed beverage.

“You look like you could use some strength…”

Of course, he had to bring up his impressive, spectacular strength within seconds. Maybe he expected you to slow clap, bow down or throw confetti’s all over him for being strong enough to open a beer bottle. What on Earth would you do without his strong, manly hands?

Grinding your teeth as your tongue clicked against your palate out of pure annoyance, you gave him the most unimpressed look as he grabbed the bottle from your hand, popping out the cap hard enough to make it fly off and hit the table with a soft, metallic thump. Smirking to himself, Tom handed you the bottle back, tilting his head as he obviously expected some enthusiastic reaction.

“Do you want a medal or something?”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would be a good start? “He mocked, raising his eyebrows in a way that made your consider throwing the entire bottle at his face to wash away his stupid cockiness.

“Thanks” you simply blurted out, raising your beer slightly before walking away as you took a couple sips. It wasn’t even that cold or remotely good.

Tom watched as you walked away in silence, his eyes inevitably drawn to the way your hips and that glorious ass of yours seemed to wiggle into that daunting skirt. Grazing his thumb over his bottom lip with a smirk, the eager flame in his eyes made his will to take you to a quiet place grow bigger with each step you took.

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The music was getting considerably louder as people were now dancing all over the place, from the staircase to whatever was left of furniture after too many parties hosted in this house. The constant buzzing sound of chit-chats and laughter was slowly making your head spin as you gulped on your third (or was it the fourth?) Shot of tequila. As expected, Y/BFF/N had wasted no time as she was already clinging to Harrison’s neck, feasting on his mouth like an open buffet. His hands were on her bum, holding on to it for dear life with a strong grip. At least, she was having fun.

Out of boredom and to your own surprise, you had agreed on doing shots with a couple people you knew from class. Not technically what you’d call reliable friends but you always bumped into them at parties where you’d basically chat, and drink. From afar, you could see some people had gathered around a table where Team Jackass had started the inevitable beer pong contest. Nibbling at a piece of lime, hoping it would wash away the burning haze of the tequila, you winced at the sourness as your eyes suddenly locked with Tom’s. He was now holding his arms up on both side, raising one fist through the air as he had clearly won that first round. There was something pathetic about a man in his twenties begging for attention and acting like he was about to claim the gold medal at the Olympics when all he did was throw a feather-weighted plastic ball into a red cup.

All the alcohol in the world would never get you drunk enough to tolerate this guy.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think it was a shame to see him act so pitiful when he face was actually okay. Well. He was definitely cute as long as his mouth was shut and his stupid, pretentious smug out of the way. With his soft, chocolate brown eyes, his tousled eyebrows and thin pink lips, he could’ve been a guy you’d be interested in. His brown hair was somehow, always tucked into a snapback or a beanie but you had caught a glimpse of his natural curls once and though it killed you on the inside to admit it, he did look great when he didn’t try too hard to be a complete asshole.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t see him walk towards you.

“We’re doing shots now? “

“Impressive” you frowned, “did you figure it out all by yourself?” you chuckled, swallowing what’s left of lime, basically pulp, in one soft gulp.

“You like to act all smart ass around me, don’t you?”

“Correction: I am, in fact, smart… Not that it’s something you’re familiar with so, pardon me if it’s all too confusing for you… “

“Are you calling me dumb, then?” he was frowning now, his enormous self-centered head deflating under the unexpected pressure of your witty come-back.

“Did you hear the word ‘dumb’ coming out of my mouth?”

“No – but I sure know what I would like to see come in that sweet mouth of yours, darling”

The fact he had the nerves to say that kind of stuff right to your face was enough to piss you off but what caught you off guard was his hand reaching for your face as his thumb delicately grazed your bottom lip, pulling at it just enough for you to taste his fingertip.

“Surely, lime isn’t the only thing you like to suck on?” he smiled, cocky as ever as you could feel actual rage building up from your core and all the way to the back of your throat.

“I suggest you keep your hands off me” you snapped, pushing his hand off your face as he laughed to himself, the raspy sound caught in his throat making you throb against all odds.

“Or what? What you gonna do about it, uh?” he teased, confident as ever, his words coming out of his mouth halfway between a threat and a challenge. His arms were crossed against his chest now, making every inch of muscle he owned just pop out. There was nothing sweet about the way his body was built, and was he ever given the occasion, you knew he could break your spine in half with his one hand. You just wished you’d never thought about it as the filthiest images came to your mind, starting with Tom spinning you around over the sink in the bathroom and pinning you down with his palm pressed between your shoulder blades as he pounded hard and fast into you.

Maybe Tequila had gotten to your head faster than you expected.

“I know girls like you” he started, walking backwards until your back hit the wall and you were completely trapped between his arms, one of his leg parting yours so his knee would slowly graze that spot where your thighs met, claiming his access to that precious part of your body you could definitely feel getting damper against your will.

“What about it?” you asked, slightly more provocative than you had intended.

“You like to act all innocent, pretending you have higher standards…” His breath was warm, wrapped into the thickness of alcohol, curving a ball at the back of his throat so his voice would come out raspier and lower than usual, “… but secretly you just want guys like me to fuck the back of your throat until you choke”.

You felt it. Your pussy throb at the single thought of it. You didn’t want to physically react to these obscene images, words coming out of his mouth filthier than anything you’d ever heard, but still, as hard as you wanted to remain cold and unbothered, there was no denying for the dampness between your thighs. You just hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to notice it.

“You disgust me” it took you all the strength you had to spat back at him, and even then, all he did was smile then chuckle softly to himself as his hand slid up your throat, wrapping it slowly until his thumb pressed itself into the crook under your chin, nesting as it was made to be there.

“Please—are you really going to pretend you’ve never thought about my cock filling up your pretty mouth?” his fingers found your lips again, tracing it slowly as your heartbeat increased with each word, “like you’ve never thought about me when you finger yourself at night” he paused, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth as he tilted his head, his mouth coming closer to your hear with a dark whisper “I know you do, baby… I know you touch yourself thinking of me, wishing those fingers were mine, diving into your dripping cunt… Touching spots you could only wish you’d reach… how I would spread those lips open and run my tongue all over your slit….” A warm breeze brushed your neck as a cursed laugh escaped his lips, making you squirm unexpectedly, “I bet you taste so sweet, I would never get enough of that glorious pussy…”

By now, you were wrapped into the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It was strong and manly as expected, yet comforting in a way you didn’t want to think about. You didn’t want to picture yourself wearing that grey hoodie he loved to wear after a game, his perfume raining over your bare chest as you’d lazily ride him on his dorm bed after you’d get bored of whatever movie you’d settled for, pushing your panties to the side as he couldn’t be bothered taking it off completely. You didn’t want to picture him unzipping that same hoodie, palming your boob with one of his strong hands as his mouth sucked on your nipple until your soft, delicate skin turned red from all the biting marks. You didn’t want to feel yourself stretch around his rock-hard cock as he’d lift your legs up to wrap it around his neck, because he’s that kind of jerk who likes to show off even when he’s completely buried inside of you, that kind of complete asshole who loves to remind you just how deep he can go, smirking to himself as he hits your special spot over and over and over…. until you beg for him to stop. That kind of utterly disgusting dickhead who’d never stop, because he knows that, deep down, you just want him to keep going.

“Now you can tell me you’re not already wet… But we both know that’s a lie” he smiled again and as you felt his hand going down, palming you through your top and all the way down to the front of your skirt, you finally decided to come to your senses and grabbed his wrist into your tight fist, stopping him just in time before he’s reached the only approval he truly needed.

“Go to hell, Holland” you snapped, using all of your strength to push him off and walk away.

You didn’t turn back to see him chuckle at the sight of your flushed face.

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The coldness of water came as a shock as you bent over the sink in the bathroom, splashing your face until it didn’t feel like your skin was on fire. Grabbing a towel, you patted your cheeks and forehead, staring at the reflection in front of you. You definitely looked flustered, like you had just run a marathon when all you really did was to suffer through your archenemy’s evil little game.

Usually, you would have just brushed it off and that’d be it. But tonight, for some reason, you just couldn’t seem to shake him off your thoughts, his voice still echoing through your head like a curse without a cure. Outside the bathroom, you could hear the muffled sound of music and screams coming from the living room as beer-pong had turned into strip-pong with everyone removing a piece of clothes every time the ball missed the cup. Typical, drunken behavior. Soon enough these parties would turn into a massive orgy and it wouldn’t even come out as a big surprise.

Freshen up a little had helped you settle your thoughts back into place but still, your body didn’t seem to catch a break as the build-up tension and frustration Tom had caused within your core was yet to be released. There was no denying that your toys would have come handy if you were back to your dorm room as it felt like your pussy kept clenching for no reason, like the gaping mouth of the thirstiest man in the middle of a drought. You knew how bad you needed to put it out of its misery but if you thought undressing for a ping pong game was bad, what would happen if anyone walked on you literally fingering yourself in the bathroom of a frat-house? No one would shut up about it.

Tom would certainly not. Shut. Up. About. It. Ever.

You pressed your thighs together, hoping for some sort of relief as his words came back haunting you, thinking about how your hand had found its way between your legs earlier in the shower, the very second you had thought about his body pushing you up against the tiles. Is that what he was to you, now? A fantasy? Would you become another disgusting cliché of a girl begging for the typical frat boy to fuck her at a party because she couldn’t handle his dirty mouth?

Then you thought about your best-friend and how the last time you’d seen her, she was heading upstairs with Harrison, giggling, her lipstick smudged all over her chin after making out heavily on the couch up to the point everyone was starting to wonder whether they should be charged for that kind of peep-show or just roll with it. How she was probably getting fucked in his bedroom while you were standing alone in a bathroom, dripping wet for a man you hated down to the very bottom of your guts.

The door swung open abruptly, making you jump.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding!” Tom smiled, walking in.

“Can’t a girl have some privacy?”

“I need to take a piss, you’re the one standing out there doing nothing” he joked, walking to the toilets with his hands already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

“Hum, excuse me?” you spat, widening your eyes as you realized he was genuinely about to use the toilets with you still standing a few meters away.

“I said I needed to take a piss… So either you just stand there watching, which I don’t mind really… or you can get out?” he pointed his chin towards the door, unbothered as he casually pulled his dick out of his boxers.

Both infuriated and shocked, you turned around as there was no point leaving the room now that his whole junk was out and already halfway through it.

“Do you have to be that disgusting? Really you’re such a pig!” you complained as you heard him sigh with relief before the toilet flush broke the most awkward silence of your entire existence.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll clean it up real nice just for you…” he smiled even though you still had your back turned to him. You heard him use the tap, washing his hands for a considerably long amount of time. At least he wasn’t one of those filthy rats who thought basic hygiene was optional.

“What were you doing by the way?” he finally asked, grabbing the towel to your left, “touching yourself thinking about me?”

You turned around to face his cocky face once more, this time with a furious need to slap it. Hard.

“You know I’ve seen you walking around campus a couple times, Y/N… Those big jumpers and yoga pants you like to wear don’t do that body any justice, but this?” he circled his finger in the air, pointing out her entire outfit “this, I like to see… and if you weren’t being a little brat I would gladly pull up that skirt up to your waist and have you there, above the sink…”

“I’m being a brat?” you scoffed. That was rich, coming from the ultimate king of bratty assholes.

“Well you call it whatever you like but denying yourself something you truly need just to prove a point seems a little childish…” he shrugged, shoving his hands into this jeans pocket and giving you a perfect glimpse at the veins running up his arms and disappearing underneath his rolled up sleeves.

“You think all girls are begging for you to fuck them? Really?”

“Probably, yeah, and who could blame them really? I have a great cock and I’ve never had a single bad review about the way I use it…” he smiled, with the arrogance of a king sitting on a throne of indecency.

“You’re so full of yourself… it’s insane” you shook your head with pure disgust.

“Then go ahead and prove it”

“Prove what, exactly?”

“That you’re not dripping wet as we speak…”

Point taken.

You were, indeed, dripping wet and soon enough, you’d have some serious explaining to do as the thin cotton fabric of your underwear was now soaked with your unsolicited arousal. Even though your head was filled with hateful thoughts and resentment for Tom, it felt like your body would not stop begging for his touch, dragging him closer like two pieces of magnets on a fridge. Unconsciously, you were now standing a couple inch away from his face, so close you could actually smell the soft mixt of menthol and alcohol from his breath. There was no point denying the obvious tension between you two as you looked like you were about to break into a passionate kiss but now it was just a fight between your will for self-preservation and your body, aching to be touched.

And so you heard yourself say these words you never thought you’d say, like you were standing in the audience as your other self was performing on stage, making some questionable decisions you weren’t 100% okay with.

“Which one’s your bedroom?”

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You could have fought longer, for the sake of your personal values, but as your feet were swiped off the ground, your back hitting the door as it closed behind you with a loud slam, all of your good sense and respectable choices just vanished as much filthier thoughts buried them for good.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands had wasted no time and found their way under your top, fondling your breast with the hunger of a wolf. Your lips attached to his, you moaned louder than expected as he pushed himself a little harder against you, the obvious stiffness of his crotch pressing against your aching core. Your skirt had risen up to your waist from spreading your legs a little too wide, flashing your white panties as it was now so soaked you could definitely see the outline of your lips, the thin fabric sticking to your slit. Catching your breath, heavy pants breaking your kiss, you looked into Tom’s eyes only to see nothing but pure, absolute lust in them. As you tugged at his brown locks, a couple strand curling slightly at the back of his neck, you watched as his snapback fell to the floor with a thump, unleashing his brown untamed mane.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so bad, groaning slightly as your fingers scrapped the back of his neck, your lips sucking on his throat for good measures. With his head tilted back slightly, it felt like Tom was getting soft for a while, caving in so you could take control over him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long as he suddenly traced a hand all the way down to your inner thigh, immediately pushing your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“I knew it…” he smiled, sliding his finger along your slit as you wrapped it up with a glistening coat of arousal. You knew he had won the minute he felt just how wet you were for him, but when it should have been upsetting, you just didn’t care. All you needed now was to feel his cock filling you up in any way he wanted, “who made you this wet, darling?” he smiled, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Don’t be a brat…” you complained as you could see some mischief in the way he looked at you.

“Just say it” he insisted “I want to hear you say out loud just how wet I make you” this wasn’t a request, but an order. And for some obscure reason you didn’t want to figure out, it somehow turned you on even more.

“You…” you started, biting your lip out of nerves, or out of excitement, you weren’t sure quite yet. “You make me so wet, Tom” you almost moaned, pushing yourself a little harder against his hand when he failed to give you exactly what you needed. His fingers. Buried deep inside of you.

“Hmm” Tom groaned, two of his digits spreading your lips apart at a torturing slow pace, “I like the sound of that…” his knuckles were barely halfway when you buckled your hips off the door, begging for more, “what’s that darling? Tell me what you want…” he was whispering by now, slowly pushing his fingers into your desperate slit, “I want to hear you beg for it…”

You felt him push deeper, curving his fingers into a hook every time he reached your g-spot. By now you were so aroused you just knew it would take you more than a couple stroke to cum heavily into his awaiting palm. You could hear the sloppy sound of your own wetness every time he slammed his slick, extremely skilled digits back into your throbbing pussy. His lips curved into a hasty smile as he could feel you literally drip all over his palm and wrist.

“I want you… I want you so much” you barely managed to whimper as he increased the pace, his wrist working its magic between your thighs.

“Hmm hmm? I’m gonna need you to be more specific baby… what exactly do you want?” his thumb grazed your clit for a brief second and that was enough for you to squeal under his touch, making you clench suddenly around his fingers, “say you want my cock” he almost growled as you felt his hard-on twitch against your thigh, begging to be freed.

“I want your cock” you immediately wimped, your own words sending shivers down your spine as you twitched with anticipation, “I want it so, so bad…”

“Good girl…” he hummed, slowing down the pace so he could add a third finger, stretching you out slightly this time, “d’you think you can take it though? It’s pretty big…” he smiled, twisting his hand just enough so he could dig himself a path.

You simply nodded, unable to speak anymore, but as you were about to beg for more, Tom removed his hand, leaving you frustrated and hornier than ever. His face changed suddenly as he watched you pout, his hand reaching up for your lips.

“What about that pretty mouth, then? You think it may fit?” he smiled, spreading your lips apart so you could taste yourself on his soaked fingers. You immediately obliged, sucking at it, one by one, never keeping your eyes off him. When he shoved three of his digits, watching as your tongue twirled around it, cleaning it off completely, you could definitely tell his eyes had gotten darker, filled with unspeakable thoughts you would be begging to hear soon.

“You’re gonna let me fuck that pretty face?” he added, removing his fingers from your mouth so he could give you a soft, cheeky slap on the cheek. You nodded, obedient as ever. “Say it” he commanded, louder this time, “say you want my cock inside your mouth”.

“I want it… I want your cock inside my mouth” you pouted, only because you knew he loved to see you beg like a spoiled little princess. You’d seen it in his eyes, the way he looked at you every time you tilted your head to fake an innocence that was long gone.

Tom stepped back, walking away slowly as he watched you standing there, flustered, your hair all over the place, panting out of lust and frustration. Pulling his shirt off, you watched as his impressive chest unveiled in front of you. Abs like rocks, a thin strand of hair tracing a path from his navel to his crotch, disappearing under his jeans, his impeccable V-line bringing images you never thought you had within yourself. As he pushed his hair back, daunting you with his a look half way between arrogance and disdain, it felt like all signs of dignity had left your brain as all you could think about was to crawl to the floor and beg for his cock.

“What you’re waiting for then, Darling?” he smiled, unzipping his flies as he watched you walk towards him and get on your knees within seconds.

Your hands pulled at his jeans until it finally pooled around his ankles. Looking up to stare into his eyes, you felt both small and powerful, submissive but in control as you were now responsible for this man pleasure. It was up to you whether he’ll get to cum or not. But as you considered edging him as an option, Tom wasted no time in remembering you who was actually in charge.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he sighed, grabbing your hair into a fist as his other hand stroked his cock through the cotton fabric of his boxers. You could tell he was just horny as you were as a couple pre-cum had already stained his briefs, turning it into a darker shade of grey.

Again, you nodded, removing his hand so you could replace it with yours, palming him through his briefs as he growled against your touch. He was big. Actually much bigger than you expected but somehow, you were up for a challenge. Tracing the outline of his cock with your fingers tips, you felt him push his hands on the back of your head, forcing you to come closer to his crotch.

“I want to fuck your pretty little mouth so, so bad” he groaned as you unexpectedly ran your tongue all over his stiff through the fabric, feeling it twitch as you palmed his balls. By now he was so hard you could feel the veins tracing a dirty road up to his leaking head as Tom started grinding slowly against your mouth, messing up your hair with his desperate fists.

When you pulled down his boxers, you took a couple seconds to stare at his glorious manhood, hard and pressed against his abdomen where it curved slightly, your mouth watering with a thirst you could have never pictured, especially when standing in Tom Holland’s bedroom. And yet, you couldn’t wait to have this magnificent piece of flesh filling up your mouth.

“Like what you see?” Tom smirked, boasting as ever but immediately squinting his eyes with a deep growl the minute he felt your tongue licking at the base, slowly going up until you finally bobbed on his creaming head.

You had always been good at this, giving head. Not that all of your partners would give you a proper review in the morning, pointing out your highs and lows, but there were just things men couldn’t do, like hiding the fact they were just having the time of their lives. And right now, Tom actually looked like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be than standing here, with his cock in your mouth.

Twirling your hand at the base where you mouth couldn’t go just yet, you started bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking your cheeks in so your mouth would pop every time his dick came out. You had quickly figured out a couple things about Tom, including the fact he just seemed to love it dirty and noisy. You could actually hear him growl louder, his fist tightening its grip into your hair every time he slipped off your lips, only for him to shove it back a little harder and definitely deeper with each thrust.

“That’s it baby… Just like that… you’re such a good girl…”

You were a good girl, indeed. Always had been. Straight-A’s student from day one, the pride and joy of your parents, spending most of your week-ends doing some volunteer work whenever it was needed while being a caring, polite girl who never did anything wrong. Right choices only.

Or so you thought. Obviously, tonight would be always marked as the only questionable decision on your impeccable path to perfection. But still, as Tom grabbed your face with both hands to push himself deeper and all the way down your throat, making you gasp for air slightly, you had no regrets.

You stayed still for as long as your lungs could handle it, holding on to his firm, muscular buttocks as you swallowed him all. Looking down on you, Tom was left speechless as his cock stretched your cheeks out, his balls resting into your palm as you twitched them slowly, making it jolt with both pain and pleasure. When you felt like you were about to gag, you pushed yourself back, gasping for air as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Your cheeks felt numb and yet it missed the feeling of being stretched out already.

“Hmmm baby look at you…. you think you’re ready for it?”

“Yeah” was all you could blurt out. Yes to anything he wanted. You were prepared. You longed for it.

Looking around as Tom started pumping himself, getting ready for you, spitting into his palm to lube himself up so your lips wouldn’t drag along his shaft too much, you just couldn’t believe you were there, kneeling on the navy carpet of Tom Holland’s bedroom, the epitome of the ultimate frat boy. A huge flag from his favorite sports team was hanging above his bed, his never-ending hats collection sitting on wooden shelves by the wall like it was some kind of “frat boy starter pack” Art exhibition. In the corner of the room, you caught an unexpected glimpse at a guitar. It looked fairly new, but never in a million years would you have pictured Tom playing guitar. On his desk, his laptop was still open on a Spotify tab where you’d probably find a playlist based on some typical white boy rap music but against all odds, the room looked neat compared to what you had in mind.

“You look so beautiful” he sighed, out of nowhere, and to be completely honest, had your mouth not been filled with his dick, you would have probably picked up your jaw from the floor. Taking him all in once more, you just pretended you couldn’t hear, sparing you some awkward misunderstanding. Maybe those words were actually directed to his dick. After all, the boy loved himself just that much.

His hands were all over your face, wiping tears from your eyes every time he hit the back of your throat a little too hard, stroking your cheeks, massaging the back of your neck, roaming through your tangled hair as your kept up with his reckless pace, his hips swinging back and forth while you remained completely still so you could take him like a champ.

“God, I love to see you choke on my cock….” He gritted through his teeth “so…so hot…” you could tell he was getting sloppier now, pumping in and out of your mouth abruptly then a lot more slower as a couple twitch from his cock gave you a hint of his upcoming grand finale.

By now, you were a slippery mess, the taste of pre-cum hitting your throat as you dribbled all over his shaft, obscene sounds of suction coming out of your mouth every time he pushed himself out and back in all over again.

“F----uuuuck….fuck baby I’m gonna come!” he grunted, the sudden high-pitch of his broken voice driving you insane as you pushed yourself up a little so you could open your mouth wider, expecting him to fill it up soon enough. “D’you want me to cum in your mouth? Uh?” again, he gave you a little slap on the cheek, not quite hard enough for you to feel any pain. You nodded, moaning whatever came close to a “yes” as every single inch of your mouth was filled with Tom.

You heard him whimper, twitching a couple times, harder with his thrust as his hand fisted into your hair abruptly throughout his climax. Looking up to see his face, your eyes locked with his as he came all over your tongue, raining down your throat with a couple last, sloppy thrusts.

“Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuuu------“

Your eyes immediately teared up as you tried your best to swallow every drop of cum he had to give, the corner of your lips dripping like an overflowing sink.

Then there was a complete silence.

As you wiped your mouth off the thick, warmness of his cum, you felt him kneel to your side, then sit. Both of you looked completely exhausted, drained from every ounce of energy you had left.

“Well, that wasn’t half bad… for a little brat” he spoke again, and you just couldn’t believe he had gathered the energy to say this when he could have chosen silence.

Laughing quietly to yourself so you wouldn’t slap him across the face, you decided not to fuel him up and remained quiet instead. His hair had gone curlier than heaver, his glistening red face making him look like any cute boy you could easily fall for.

“I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna see a lot more of you at frat parties now?” he spoke again, and though it truly pissed you off to admit it, you just knew this wasn’t a one-time thing. For all you knew, this, was barely a prequel to a long, bumpy story of a good girl gone bad.

All because of Tom-fucking-Holland.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #frat boy tom holland #frat!tom #enemies to lover #tom holland x reader

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beskar-cowboy · 3 years

Text

Beneath the Ice

Part 2 of The Best Things Dwell Out of Sight Series

Summary: Crash landed on a frozen planet, you have to wait till morning to be able to fly out again. In the mean time, you play in the snow with the Child while Mando repairs the Crest. (4k words) ao3 link here

Warnings: none actually? inspired by but no major spoilers for s2e2 (chapter 10) events besides the fact that it’s on a frozen planet lol. just tons of mutual pining with Mando, yearning, fluff and softness <3 only one part left after this and it’s actually the last one! (like part 5 lmao)

“Hey - no, wait for me!” You call after the Child who’s already waddling as fast as he can down the lowered hatch, throwing himself into the snow.

His little giggles echo through the silent snowy air of the desolate valley that you’ve more or less just crash landed into. The air now peaceful and calm again after such a rough landing.

You hadn’t finished getting your boots on all the way and had already told the kid to wait right here, next to you and you could go outside and play together. Obviously someone was too excited by the prospect of freshly fallen snow to care too much about rules.

“He’s fine.” Mando reassures, standing next to you in the hull. There’s a certain lightness to his voice from underneath the helmet, maybe he was amused at the kid’s… childish antcis.

You roll your eyes and stand up next to him once your boots are laced up. The freezing air from outside has already drafted into the ship and you feel it down to your bones. Living on a desert planet your whole life prior to meeting Mando meant you didn’t own one single article of clothing that would be appropriate for this sort of weather.

Along this whole strange trip with Mando, you had come into possession of a few warmer pieces like some utility pants and a few shirts but still, you didn’t own thick socks, a proper coat, a scarf or anything that would help you right now. The Child seemed fine in his little onesie but you, on the other hand, were already fucking freezing.

Luckily Mando noticed that you were freezing, the way you used your hands to warm up your arms. Running them up and down the length of his long black sleeve shirt which you were wearing.

You wore it quite often, Mando hopes it's a favourite of yours or something. Even after having bought you your own clothes on Batuu over a month ago now, you still seemed to favour his old, worn black shirt. It made his stomach feel funny when he thought about that.

But he often felt funny when he thought about you for too long.

“Wait here.” Mando instructs, letting his hand rest on your shoulder briefly before walking away, deeper into the hull, to indicate that he was in fact talking to you. You could never tell, especially not with that helmet of his.

Mando returns promptly holding a long, thick material in both of his hands. One of his cowls.

“Oh, thank you.” You stammer, taking the long and surprisingly heavy fabric from him. You struggle to hold it up, trying to figure out which was the best way to wrap it around your neck or shoulders, or throw it over like a shawl-

“Let me.” He offers with slight hesitation in his voice, taking a tentative step closer to you. Your breath shakes, unable to find it within yourself to even look in his direction.

You almost squeak when he takes the cowl into his own hands, trying to find the head hole himself. You would laugh at the difficulty he’s having as well but you can barely bring yourself to remember how to breathe due to how close he’s standing to you.

Eventually he does find the head opening and loosens the hole wider for you, gently lifting it over your head. Your grasp onto the fabric, helping him guide it over and around your head. The smooth flesh of your hand glides along worn leather, his touch burning, singing marks into your skin that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to get rid of.

The material is down to your shoulders now but your head is still lost in the thick fabric, trying to find the hood so you can stick your head out and breathe some fresh air. You inhale the fabric accidentally and, oh.

It smells like him.

Of course it smells like him, it’s his fucking cowl but fuck.

It smells like Mando. And suddenly he’s everywhere, invading your senses, fogging up your brain like he just drugged you with spice and you’re a lightweight so you fall fast and you fall hard.

Fuck why did he smell so good? He’s a bounty hunter, he shouldn’t smell so good but he does. It smells like skin, sweat and grime and blaster oil and gunpowder, the lethal combination makes you lightheaded.

You’ve never gotten this much of him all at once before. Wrapped up in something of his while his hands are on you. Fuck, you almsot forgot he was helping you put this thing on so you could go outside and play with the Child while he repaired the thrusters or whatever he had muttered about back in the cockpit when you landed.

You feel his hands touch and pull at you through the material while yours do the same, your fingers and palms bumping, grazing and touching each other every so often. Your hair gets pulled over your eyes as the cowl is swivelled and turned, all trying to get you right side up like you're drowning in water.

Mando huffs, frustrated that he can’t seem to figure out his own damn cowl. He puts this thing on everyday, how could it be this hard to put it on another person. Because it doesn’t fit you, it’s too big for you, too long, too heavy- fuck.

Realizing you had been turning in useless circles while he pulled the fabric the other way, Mando grabs both of your shoulders in his hands, steadying you. You nearly yelp at the sudden grounding touch, not knowing which way you were facing anymore from being lost in the cowl for so long. You stop your useless efforts, letting Mando take over.

You feel another tug, more gentle this time and the cowl turns and turns, pushing more hair into your eyes and suddenly, fresh air. Cool crisp air hits your face as your head awkwardly pokes out of the hoodie hole Mando has finally managed to find.

You can’t help the burst of giggles that falls from your lips. How did you both manage to make such a simple task so difficult? He could have left you to it, he could have handed it to you and then headed over to the thrusters like he knew he needed to do, like he said he would.

Your eyes squint, your cheeks scrunch up and your hair falls chaotically yet somehow fucking perfectly, framing your face as it falls out of the wide, loose hood of his cowl, caresses it in a way he wishes he could. Your plush lips stretch into a face-splitting, shit-eating grin like this is so fucking amusing to you and if Mando was anyone else in this moment, he thinks he would be laughing along with you. Fuck, he thinks he would even be kissing you right now if it weren’t for the helmet and… and. The Way. Yeah, The Way.

So you just stand there, for too many moments, too many seconds pass by where both of you just stare and smile at each other, admiring each other’s faces- well, Mando admiring your face and you trying to find his eyes behind the pitch black of his visor. Your eyes flit back and forth, searching, you land on them a couple of times and Mando has to actually stop himself from gasping from the intrusion. Your eyes pierce him, they sting and they burn and bite but they're so lovely, kind, and soft with the way you bat your lashes up at him. Like you know he’s looking and blushing like a fucking child underneath all this beskar.

“Ooooo!” The Child coos from outside in the snow, snapping both you and Mando out of whatever trance you had seemed to put each other under.

The Child rolls some snow in his hands, maybe liking the way it feels as it melts against his warm, green skin. Whatever he was trying to say, it was a painful reminder that you couldn’t just stand here and stare at Mando all day, not if you wanted to get off of this planet before you all freeze to death.

Flustered and a little embarrassed for getting caught staring at Mando, you nod at him as a way of saying ‘thanks for the giant scarf’ and turn to head outside.

But you end up stepping on said giant scarf and your foot twists in the fabric, sending your body jolting awkwardly but a hand tight on your hip keeps you upright with too much ease. Another hand grasps onto your bicep, wrapping tightly around your limb, keeping you steady.

You see the way your breath comes out in ragged breaths thanks to the freezing air, chest heaving and cheeks blushing not just from the snow. He was touching you again. Maker, you were almost starting to believe he liked it as much as you did.

You think… you think he chuckles. So low and understated but you think you catch it from underneath his helmet which tilts to the side a bit, as if trying to get a better look at you. Or taunt you, make fun of you. You don’t have a clue, you were so bad at reading his body language, even after a month of living with him.

Completely flustered, you say nothing, just stare up at the big, intimidating T-shape on his visor and hope he isn’t laughing at you but maybe with you.

“T-Thanks.” You stutter, feeling his thumb graze over your bicep, running the covered digit over your arm, feeling you in the slightest way possible.

Mando nods at you, “Go play with the kid.”

Eventually being able to pull yourself away from him and secure the hood of the cowl over your head properly, you let your boots carry you through the soft and sparkly snow, towards the Child whose cheeks are flushed an adorable shade of pink.

He runs to you, an oddly shaped snowball in hand. He reaches up for you to take it from him and you thank him for such a lovely gift. He seems pleased with himself as he makes more little balls, they become rounder and rounder the more he makes and you watch endearingly before you start to make some too, adding them to his little collection.

He gets very protective of the snowballs, whining if you move them too much or if he thinks you’re going to steal one. You really have to try your hardest not to laugh because you’re not laughing at him, he’s just so weird and cute and apparently 50 years old but still clearly a baby and wow. You think you love him like you would a son and your heart thumps heavy in your chest as you spend the afternoon playing with him.

Mando watches you from where he's stationed on top of the Crest, fixing the integrity of the left thruster so that it doesn’t disintegrate when he tries to lift you all off this planet come morning time.

Maybe he even repositions himself to get a better angle of you and the kid, he tells himself he’s just keeping a watchful eye, but that excuse gets harder and harder to believe when his heart starts fucking hammering in his chest everytime he gets a glimpse of your face. The way you smile at the kid, the way your hair falls and frames your face, poking out of his cowl, begging to be pushed back behind your ear, for his hand to cup your cheek.

He likes the way you cling to it whenever there's a particularly cold gust of wind that flows through the open field, how you cover your face with it while still watching the Child, making sure he’s okay and holding him when he gets a bit cold or hurts his hand on a piece of hidden ice. Mando thinks he sees you bring the cowl up around your face one too many times, maybe you were smelling it, smelling him-

Mando burned himself a few times with his tools, by accident, from staring at you just a bit too long, losing his grip on whatever it was he was wielding together and accidentally burning his hand instead.

There was something about seeing you in his clothes that… that made him feel weird. It was this sort of fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach, like that feeling you get when you think you’re going to throw up but really, you’re just nervous or anxious or something. The way his heart beats heavy, different with each new pump of blood through his system, the blood travelling to less the optimal regions at the wrong moments, making him dizzy and fucking hard in his pants.

Maker, what was wrong with him? Why did seeing you in his cowl or black shirt make him feel so fucking possessive over you?

Right now, he tries to focus on how much fun you genuinely seem to be having with the kid, how easily you laugh along with him and take part in his games. Mando wonders if you had a good childhood back on your home planet, if you did normal kid things or if you missed out on most of them like he did.

Eventually it gets too dark and too cold for you to stay outside any longer, thankfully the kid doesn’t seem too upset about heading back inside to warm up. Maybe it's due to the promise of warm food and a warm belly.

You set yourselves back up in the cockpit where Mando had installed some sort of heat radiator, it had been going all day, heating the cockpit nicely but you kept the cowl on for… reasons.

You manage to find some dried meat and bone broth in some of Mando’s cabinets, where he usually keeps his rations and snacks. You heat them up over the radiator as best as you can, you think you remember Mando getting some spices at a market on some long forgotten planet but you can’t find them anywhere. You make do with the amount of salt you managed to find instead; anything helps really.

You hand the child his tiny little container of food once it’s warm enough but not too hot for his little palette before you climb down the ladder, placing Mando’s own plate and bowl of broth and meat before climbing back up and reaching for the hatch to call to him as he continues to work on the roof.

The hatch is heavy to pry open, you muster all the strength you can to turn the locking wheel and push it open and poke your head out the top, bombarded by whistling wind and the cool, biting kiss of the snowy air once again.

“Mando!” You yell over the strong gusts, shivering as you call his name. The helmet turns to look at you and you notice the ice forming along the hard and sharp edges of his beskar. Maker, he must be freezing under there.

A light that he’s set up to work in the dark illuminates half of him, the other side cast into a dark shadow you can barely see, the unrelenting harsh fall of snow was no help.

Without hearing what you have to say first, he packs up his equipment and walks towards you, towards the open hatch.

“I-I put your food in your cot. Let me know if it’s not warm enough.” You try and smile at him but your face already feels frozen from the cold, cheeks and lips locked in place. He seems to nod so you just head back down the ladder and he waits for you to reenter the cockpit before heading in and closing the hatch for the night.

As you sit back down in the cockpit with the kid who’s already finished his food and begun to eat yours, you hear Mando clamber around in the main hull, probably taking off and drying his armour, taking the helmet off to eat. You hope the soup helps to warm him up.

You scold the kid lightly for eating your food but let him sit in your lap while you eat, giving him spoonfuls every now and then. You can’t say no to those big black eyes, probably an evolutionary design you think, laughing to yourself.

“You’re a little menace, you know that?” You tell him, fake scowling at him but kissing his forehead a million times over so he knows you’re only teasing. He coos and babbles in response, grabbing at your hair so you take that as a sign that he knows you mean no harm.

You wrap him up in Mando’s cowl that you still wear, letting him get cozy in your lap. With a full belly, body wrapped snugly in his little onesie and now the cowl, his big eyes become droopy, ready for bed. You wonder if Mando will come back up to sleep in the cockpit or if he’ll take the child into his cot, leaving you in here for the night.

As if on cue, the sliding doors screech at the force of being opened manually, Mando closes them behind him and turns to- to take in the sight before him.

The Child wrapped up in your-his cowl, which you still wear, still cling to like you did earlier today, like the kid does now as he seems to doze off in your lap. Your eyes are as big as ever, as sweet as ever as you look up at him by the door. Mando thinks he sees you smile at him from your spot on the floor but he quickly tries to ignore the erupting mass of butterflies in his stomach and just sit down next to you. Maybe a bit too close, he feels his shoulder graze yours ever so slightly and he has to stop himself from flinching away from you. Just a reflex, force of habit.

It only startles you a little how closely he decides to sit next to you, your thighs almost, almost grazing. You tell yourself it’s just to get the best angle on the radiator and maybe to share some body heat in whatever… no perverse way you two can manage.

“How was the soup?” You ask, your voice coming out much quieter than you intended. Maybe you were beginning to fall asleep yourself. The Child making himself so cozy on you and breathing softly was lulling you to sleep peacefully, like a purring Lothcat.

“What?” Mando had been so focused on not freaking out about sitting so close to you that he hadn’t heard a word you said.

“The soup? Was it okay? I couldn’t find any spices so I just made do with sal-”

“No. I-It was fine- it was good. Thank you.” He nods at you. You smile softly at Mando and then look back down at the kid, running your fingers over his little wrinkly forehead and then letting them travel through the thin white hairs.

He stirs at the sound of Mando’s voice, no doubt recognizing that his dad was finally back inside, available and ready to give him attention now. You smile fondly at him, watching as he manages to crawl out of your lap and towards Mando, climbing up his much harder, beskar covered thighs and snuggles himself into the space available. He manages to expertly find a gap in the beskar, a spot where the hard metal parts and he can sleep and nuzzle against Mando’s softer stomach.

Your heart.

Your heart fucking explodes as you watch Mando let him get cozy on him. You feel insane amounts of… of two different feelings. Two feelings you’re insanely embarrassed and ashamed of.

Jealousy and…. And lo-

You stand up after a moment of watching them and plan to head for the door, to head into your own cot which Mando had set up for you months ago now, just across a little hallway from the cockpit.

But Mando stops you. His hand wraps itself quickly around your wrist, halting your movements.

“Where are you going?”

“My cot?” You assumed he would want to be left alone with the Child to sleep. You knew he probably still didn't trust you that much, which you were fine with. You respected his boundaries, you knew he followed a Creed or something along those lines, either way, you didn't ask too many questions. You didn’t want to pry, so you often just assumed he would want to be left alone in most cases. Oftentimes, you were right.

“You’ll freeze.” He states plainly. Oh. “The heating system is down, damaged when we landed. W-We should all just sleep in here tonight, the radiator should keep us warm enough.”

Oh. You ignore how his voice wavers, you blame it on the cold he probably still feels in his bones. You feel it too, even now, despite the radiator. At least, you think it’s the cold.

“O-Okay.”

So you settle back down next to him, sitting closer to him than you had been previously. Maybe it was intentional. Maybe it wasn’t. You’re too tired to really think about it too much, to pinpoint if that was subconscious or not.

You snuggle into the cowl that’s still around your shoulders, pulling the hood back up over your head to get all the warmth you can. With the cowl, the radiator, and Mando’s wide body next to you, you think you’ll be okay tonight.

Mando thinks you look so fucking cute wrapped up the way you are. How you try to hide behind his cowl that he’s worn so many times, behind the material that’s done nothing but serve him in whatever terrain he’s been in. He’s never properly looked at it until you’ve worn it, until it adorned your body, resting with a hefty weight on your shoulders, wrapping around your hair. So fucking cute.

“Is the thruster okay?” You ask, deciding to break the silence, maybe just to hear his voice a little longer, wanting that deep, gravelly barione to lull you to sleep like a sweet and low song.

“It started to freeze over when the sun went d-down but…..” Mando’s voice stutters when you slouch against him, letting your head slump against his shoulder. He watches you slowly drift to sleep, eyelashes kissing your cheeks in a way… in a way he could only dream of.

“Oh… that’s good.” You say, yawning and nuzzling your head onto the hard beskar, trying to get comfortable and acting as if you’re completely unaware of what you were doing to him, like you didn’t notice how he didn’t even finish his sentence.

“We should be able to leave in the morning.” He rasps, trying to clear his throat but it comes out so thick.

“Hmmmm.” You hum, nearly completely asleep by now, drifting off with help from the radiator and his rhythmically rising and falling chest.

The weight of your head on his shoulder is extremely comforting, even that feels like an understatement.

This feels… too normal. Too good. It scares him how much he thinks he could get used to this, how much he wants to get used to this.

He looks down to the sleeping child in his lap, cuddled against his stomach, and then to you, peaceful at his side. How did this become his life? How did he get wrapped up in all of this?

Was it a mistake?

Travelling with a 50 year old child and… if he was being honest, the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on, and he’s seen more than most people have at his age.

He could so easily fuck this up, so easily endanger you, or the Child, too innocent things he’s managed to lasso into this whole fucking ordeal.

Mando pulls his cowl over the Child so that he can receive more warmth, feeling his own heart pulse when the kid snuggles into him further, letting himself get comfortable. He then tries to smoothly let his arm wrap around your back, giving you something to lean on instead of the unforgiving wall of the Crest’s cockpit.

He doesn’t want to startle you, doesn’t want to push boundaries. He just wants to keep you warm.

#i'm not used to just writing fluff okay dont be mean #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #fluff #imagine #my writing #the best things dwell out of sight #series #beneath the ice

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primasveraas-writing · 3 years

Text

As Family Does - SWR

In snippets, Hera experiences the ups and downs of motherhood, and all the wonderful relationships her son has with family near and so very far away.

WORD COUNT: 2206

XXX

Kanan

A sharp, desperate cry, and Hera’s world changed forever.

Jacen Syndulla was a testament to his parents’ strength long before he came into the world. He emerged bloodied, during battle and war, but the galaxy suddenly recentered itself around this tiny, helpless being.

Hera should have been used to this kind of change by now- in less than a year, her whole life had been broken and reformed in more ways than she could count.

And yet- so much of it was good, Hera thought, as the squirming baby was placed on her chest. This love she felt was so familiar, after carrying her son for 9 months, after loving his father, after being family and foster mother to Ezra and Sabine. She felt it in every cell of her body, so much that it was hard to breathe.

“You did it, Hera,” Zeb said, sounding rather choked up. Hera nodded, numb to the rest of the galaxy, save for her child in her arms, and realized that there were hot tears on her face. She sobbed, her whole body convulsing, and that hurt, but she didn’t care. She’d faced greater pain and been awarded less joy at the end of it all.

The baby wailed again, and Hera gasped- the boy’s eyes had flown open, revealing a clear, vibrant blue. His skin was tinted green and his features were already sharp, sure hallmarks of his mother’s identity but his eyes- they were Kanan’s eyes.

She never thought she’d see them again, and she sobbed harder. Even with the hormone changes that came with pregnancy, it had been a long time since Hera had cried this much. She felt Zeb’s hand on her shoulder and the love in the air. She cried tears of happiness, as new parents do, and tears of sorrow because Kanan wasn’t there to meet his son, nor Ezra to meet his baby brother.

But still- she knew Kanan loved her and he loved their son. She knew Ezra would too, when he came home. Their love was still with her, even if they were not.

That would be enough for now. Hera had her son and her beloved’s eyes, and the love needed to carry her through this and darker days.

Chopper

Hera knew- despite her avoidance of the fact- that Jacen couldn’t stay with her forever. She wasn’t the only one in the Rebellion with a young child, but she was the only general with a newborn. Somewhere in the galaxy, there had to be a safe place for her son, and she would find it. But for now, she kept him the best she could, even if it would only be for the first months of his life.

The fear and the exhaustion of war were heightened by bringing an infant into it. They threatened Hera in her lowest moments, but then there was Zeb, putting Jacen back to sleep in the middle of the night before she could get out of bed, or Kallus quietly filling out her rising piles of paperwork when she was too busy or too tired to do it herself.

It was okay- a new challenge, a new routine, and an ever-constant show of their resilience. She witnessed love and community in all parts of her life, from her kid pilots offering to babysit, to the Organas sharing some old baby toys and clothes. Even the most unlikely of figures rallied around her, and for that, Hera was grateful. Sometimes, she would even have time to herself.

One of these calm afternoons was spent completing mission reports while Jacen slept, which Hera boldly presumed would last long enough for her to catch up on everything she had to do. As soon as she dared to hope this, however, a mechanical whirr indicated the presence of Chopper- and serenity rarely, if ever, followed him.

Where is the new one? He asked, disregarding the fact that Hera was very clearly busy.

“The new one- you mean Jacen?”

He’s new. Her droid was very matter-of-fact about this statement.

“He’s a baby, Chop,” Hera amended, and the astromech beside her warbled in disagreement.

He has not been around very long. He has not done many things either. Therefore, he is new.

“Whatever you say.”

Chopper didn’t humor her further, only groaned in complaint, and waited for a response. Hera rolled her eyes, but obliged. “He’s down for his afternoon nap. Same as yesterday. Why?”

She received no reply, other than a broken lament that the little one took too long to recharge, then her oldest companion rolled off and out of sight. Hera sighed and turned back to her work.

Later, Hera glanced at the chrono and readied herself for her son’s cries, but the Ghost remained silent and lonely. She crept down the room towards the pilot’s quarters, the door still open so that she might reach Jacen faster. Perhaps she would find him still asleep, and she could clean or shower with the extra few minutes to herself.

She instead discovered her baby wriggling happy on his cot, Chopper looming over him. One of his mechanical arms was extended, dangling Jacen’s favorite tooka in front of him. Chopper made gentle sounds, and Jacen grinned up at him.

So Chopper had a heart, beyond the occasional moment of mercy. Hera hid her mouth with her hand, ignoring the wetness in her eyes, and watched the scene from the doorway.

Zeb

It might not have been fair to blame a baby for picking favorites before he could talk, but Hera still shook her head as Zeb passed back Jacen, who wailed the second he left the Lasat’s arms. Zeb chuckled at the reaction, scratching at the back of his neck, but shrunk instantly at Hera’s glare

“Aw, com’on,” Zeb tried while Jacen furiously kicked against Hera. “He doesn’t mean anything by it. Nobody holds a candle to ya, Hera.” He finished the statement rather ungracefully, as Hera relinquished Jacen, plopping him back in Zeb’s arms. As soon as she did, Jacen giggled, clutching at Zeb’s fur and gurgling happily, his woes entirely forgotten.

“You’d think he’d be a little more grateful to the one who feeds him,” Hera said dryly, regarding Jacen with her hands on her hips. Zeb shrugged, looking vaguely sheepish.

“I’m just softer than ya, that’s all,” Zeb assured her, snuggling Jacen against his chest. When Hera raised an eyebrow at him, he laughed in surprise.

“Lasat kits like to sleep on their parents,” he explained, “but some of us like to say that they prefer the Lasat with the longest and softest fur.”

“Well, you certainly have me beat there,” Hera conceded, and Zem hummed in agreement, rocking Jacen in his arms. He babbled cheerfully, and Zeb laughed again. “Maybe nobody holds a candle to Uncle Zeb, either,” she said, her tone hushed, and Zeb froze. “We’re both lucky to have you.”

Zeb didn’t say anything for a long moment, then he shifted Jacen to one side and slung his free arm around Hera’s shoulders. She leaned into the embrace, and Zeb pulled her closer.

“We’re family,” he said gruffly, his voice suspiciously thick. “Of course I’ll take care of you both.”

The admonition sent warmth flooding through Hera’s chest, and she sniffed. That was what she’d count on through it all- her family and their love, unfaltering.

Sabine

Each of Jacen’s milestones- his first smile and wave and babble of a word- came with the reminder that Kanan wasn’t there to witness them too. Her son had just started to lift his own head when the anniversary of his father’s death passed, and Hera realized with grief weighing on her heart that even the idea of Kanan would be unfamiliar to Jacen for the first years of his life.

Her sorrow at the fact that “Dada” wouldn’t be among Jacen’s collection of first words (which included “Mama,” “ship,” “no!” and “Chop”) was expressed to Sabine during an exhausted and teary conversation. Together, they concluded that Kanan would have made a great dad, if he didn’t collapse from the stress while doing it, and the two women held each other until the talk turned back to recollecting fond memories at laughter at what once was.

In one of the biggest shocks of Hera’s life, the grief became lighter and easier to carry. She knew it would never leave her, but at least she didn’t bear it alone.

When Jacen turned one, she declared it a happy occasion and resolved not to spend too long dwelling on those not present to celebrate with them. There were still wistful smiles and comforting hugs, but as luck would have it, she had Zeb, Alexsandr, Rex, and Sabine all with her to mark the occasion, and that was a happy blessing on its own.

Jacen destroyed the small cake Alexsandr had made for him with pudgy fists, smearing it all over his face and onesie. Hera laughed, trying not to think of the possibility of finding uneaten food in Jacen’s diaper again, and their small family celebrated, and it was good.

They exchanged presents before everyone had to return to their respective duties. Mother and son received a collection of toys and bigger clothes, and Hera was even gifted a nice bottle of wine for her to enjoy after surviving a year of motherhood.

At the end, when it was just her and Sabine sweeping crumbs off the floor of the galley, the young Mandalorian presented her a final gift. An intricately bound book, made from sketch flimsi and filled with page after page of illustrations. It told a story, in few words and in brilliant, dynamic colors, of a Jedi, a hero, on quests to make the galaxy a better place. The Jedi wielded a blue lightsaber, and although he could be grumpy, he was deeply loyal to his friends, and he always came in to save the day. His face was unmistakable, his demeanor kind and familiar.

“So Jacen can know his dad,” Sabine said, and her voice was carefully measured. “I never thought I’d illustrate a kid’s book.”

Hera had no words, so she threw her arms around Sabine instead, murmuring her thanks through her tears. Sabine accepted the hug, squeezing Hera just as tight, and they stayed that way for a long while.

Ezra

Jacen grew and grew until he no longer fit in her arms- or rather, he wiggled out of them every time Hera tried to pick him up. He started to beg to learn how to fly as the war drew to a close but it wasn’t until after the Battle of Endor that Hera felt the skies were safe enough for her son.

Sabine teased her that Jacen inherited his recklessness from both sides of the family. Hera couldn’t bring herself to disagree, but she looked around at her friends and family- Mandalorians and Lasats and spies and galactic heroes- and thought that her child’s thrill-seeking tendencies came more from his company rather than his blood.

The conclusion of the war didn’t mean the end of the fighting, but peace was at last on the horizon and her fellow rebels begun planning their lives in this new, free galaxy. Hera could be a mother full-time now, and not have to worry if each goodbye to her son would be her last.

She thought that this would mean fulfillment- and in many ways, it did. The galaxy was entering a new age, but there were too many things left behind for Hera to move on completely. Much of it, she would never get back- but for some, there remained hope of rescue.

She saw so much of Ezra in Jacen. His energy, for one, and his innocence. His optimism, too- Jacen was a happy baby and nothing short of an ebullient child. Hera and Kallus liked to joke that his smile could light up the galaxy. It was impossible, when gazing into Jacen’s blue eyes, not to see the hope and love of another boy who once looked to her as a mother. They had so much in common, these children of war, but their biggest similarity was those who loved them.

Sabine was the first one to teach her the bittersweet pride of a child leaving the nest, and she came to Hera again to tell her that she must go. Hera had fear and love and faith for her, but little surprise when Sabine promised to bring Ezra home. With a blessing and a plea to stay safe, she hugged Sabine tight and watched her set off into the galaxy again.

When evening fell, and Hera was alone again, Jacen approached his mother and snuggled into her arms. As much as she tried to protect her son, he always seemed to know when she was sad.

Hera didn’t think that she’d ever be complete without Kanan, without Ezra, without everyone she’d lost in a lifetime at war. But she was not alone, she knew- she had her son in her embrace and a family in every corner of the galaxy. That, for now, was enough, and she had hope that she would see them all again one day.

#hera syndulla #kanera #jacen syndulla #star wars rebels #swr #sw rebels #swr fanfic #kanera fanfic #sw rebels fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfic #sabine wren #zeb orrelios #rebels #rebels fanfic #star wars fanfiction #hera syndulla fanfic #fluff

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icefire149 · 3 years

Text

An Angel’s Vow

Chapter Four - (Read on ao3 | Read from the beginning)

Jack quickly realized that he enjoyed the sound of Claire’s laughter, and he did everything in his power to keep her going. By the time lunch was over Cas was mentally exhausted. Nearly everything within a two foot radius of Jack’s highchair was splattered with his lunch.

“I swear to you, Jack is usually better behaved,” Cas said while he undid the baby’s bib. He lifted Jack out of the highchair and Jack slapped a sticky, dirty hand to the side of Cas’ cheek. “Wonderful, honeybee.”

Claire fell into another fit of laughter that had her leaning too far back in her chair. She slammed forward before she knocked the whole thing over. The silliness of the moment had her laughing again, and Jack excitedly babbled louder. “I think the kid likes me.”

“Oh, believe me-” Cas turned to face her. The baby hand print was perfect on the side of his face. “He does.”

Cas crossed over to the kitchen doorway and paused there. “He desperately needs a bath. You can feel free to entertain yourself in any of the rooms in the meantime. Upstairs is Jack’s nursery and the bedroom you’re free to use.”

Claire bounced up from the table. “I get my own room?” Her expression hardened moments later. She crossed her arms. “How long are you planning on keeping me here?”

“You’re free to go whenever you wish, but I’d like to go over a few things before you go.” Cas’ head tilted to the side and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “But, yes, you get your own room. Technically, I suppose it’s my room, but since I don’t need to sleep I don’t have much use for it. I freshly laundered the bedding expecting that you’d like to rest at some point.”

“Fair point,” Claire said grabbing one of her duffle bags and slinging it on her shoulder. “I’ll see you when you’re done. Have fun with junior there.”

Cas nodded and disappeared into the house. Claire took her time walking through the downstairs. The house was small, and Cas kept the rooms relatively simple. A small smile found its way onto her face when she stopped to look at the view out the window. The rays of afternoon sun peeking through the clouds were blinding, reflecting off of the calm water.

She had a feeling this house had potential to be a home. Replaying the sound of Jack’s laughter in her mind, Claire was happy that Cas found this place.

Claire made her way upstairs, and heard loud splashing noises. She had to bite the side of her hand to hold back the laughter that threatened to escape when she heard the deadpan tone of Cas’ voice. A few more, but quieter splashes later she started moving past the door. For a moment she thought caught the sound of her own name and that made her pause, but immediately she brushed it off. It shouldn’t come to a surprise that Cas was telling Jack about her.

She went to the end of the hall and opened the door. It was the master bedroom. Claire tossed her bag down by the end of the bed and started poking around the room. The bed looked like a child put it together. The blanket was clearly going the wrong way and the ends were close to touching the floor.

Chuckling, Claire pulled the comforter off and saw that the sheets were only somewhat tucked in. One of the corners still needed to be done. She figured it was a miracle Cas even knew the rough order of fitted sheet, top sheet, and blanket.

Next Claire went around the room nosing in every drawer. The only thing she found in the room was a box pushed to the back of the closet. Inside were carefully folded women’s clothes. “These must have been Kelly’s,” Claire whispered as she quickly closed the box back up and pushed it back inside.

After that she went into the nursery. There was no mistaking the care that went into the room. Her eye immediately went to the painted apple tree with the rainbow above it.

“Oh, there you are,” Cas said walking around and past Claire. His clothes were strangely dry, but there were droplets of water dotting his hair. He brought Jack over to the changing table and sat him there. “Can you-” He turned to look at Claire. “Make sure he doesn’t fall?”

“Uh, yeah.” Claire went over and stood in front of Jack while Cas went digging for clean clothes. Jack was wrapped up in a bright, lime green towel with a hood that made him resemble a frog. Jack stared up at her with big, round eyes.

A shiver shot down her spine. “You ever...feel like he’s seeing right through you...or like...something?”

Cas didn’t even lift his head. He kept moving things around in one of the drawers. “He’s probably just staring at your soul.”

“He can do that?”

“He’s half angel so I’m assuming he can.”

“Sooo that’s just an angel thing then?”

“Being able to look at a person and see parts of their soul….yes, that’s more of an angel thing.” Cas closed the drawer and came back over with a light purple and blue polka-dot onesie. Claire took a step back while Cas was busy with Jack.

“What does mine look like?”

“Silver…...a lot like starlight, actually.” He looked over his shoulder at Claire for a moment. Her soul was shining even brighter now. “Souls in general when separated from their body, are the brightest blue-white light you can imagine. They’re unimaginable sources of power.”

“Why’s mine silver then?”

“When a soul is with their body...it’s like they’re co-existing in harmony. They’re complimentary….and they take on more personality if you pay attention. Yours makes me think of the night sky. The stars can seem so far away and cold, but other times warm and brilliantly bright.”

“Oh.” Her voice was quiet, and Claire awkwardly averted her gaze when Cas turned around with Jack. “What….what about the kid’s?”

Cas’ expression softened studying Jack. “Yellow. Warm and soft like a…..I think it’s called a hellebores.”

“Like a what?”

His gaze moved back to Claire. He gave her a scrutinizing look. “It’s a kind of flower.”

Crossing her arms, Claire smirked. “Okay, so let’s go three for three. What about yours?”

“Oh.” Cas adjusted Jack who was squirming in his arms. “Angels don’t have souls.”

“You don’t?” Claire’s arms fell to her sides.

“No. Just grace.” Cas stepped closer. He held Jack out to her. “Would you like to hold him? I doubt he’ll nap in his crib knowing that you’re here.”

Claire’s eyes darted from Jack to Cas. “Uh….I...I don’t..”

“I can assure you that he doesn’t bite. Yet.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to be funny?”

“Yes.” Cas held Jack close again and went past Claire. She followed close behind as they made their way downstairs. “Another time then,” Cas said placing Jack in his play pen.

He turned towards Claire. “Let’s take a look at that arsenal of yours.”

“I already told you that’s too strong of a word. I make due with what I have.”

They started walking towards the kitchen. “That’s not a very safe way to hunt, Claire.”

“It hasn’t failed me yet.”

“We don’t want there to be a yet. That’s how you end up dead.” They both stopped in the kitchen doorway. Cas sighed. “Right, Jack put on a show during lunch.”

#spn #supernatural #castiel #baby jack kline #claire novak #dadstiel #my writing #An Angel's Vow

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lavaffair · 3 years

Text

Just Admit It

Inukag Fluff Week Prompts: Touch and Pining

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33211216

Having a crush on someone can be wonderful, but also incredibly unfair. The hours spent daydreaming about the person who gives your stomach butterflies seem to be more fun than having the actual crush. Experiencing this vulnerable feeling because of a person is actually quite terrifying and painful. Most of the time, crushes lead to heartbreak and letting go of the person who never gave you a chance.

Being in love with a person can be extremely intense, almost obsessive, and beautiful if done right. When someone’s feelings reach this level, it begins to cut deeper beyond the surface, into dangerous and uncharted territory. Especially if the person you are in love with has absolutely no idea of your true feelings towards them.

For Kagome Higurashi, her feelings towards her best friend Inuyasha Taisho went way beyond a crush. She was in love with her best friend, so in love that it hurt her, and she was too afraid to ever tell him about them.

The risk of ruining her lifelong friendship of 16 years was too scary to think about. Kagome could never think of her life without Inuyasha, he was always there to annoy her, get her angry, protect her, and support her whenever and wherever. When he yelled at the bigger kids for making fun of her name when they were five, or afterward when she pushed someone away from him when they pulled on his ears, they made a pack to back each other up. The friendship just blossomed after that.

Of course, they made more friends along the way, which included Sango and Miroku; whom they met in middle school, but their friendship never changed. They knew each other better than anyone else, and they have had the uncomfortable and awkward conversations that come up between teenagers, and so they have seen it all.

They have been there for each other when their hearts have been broken, when they had fights with others, and when they have personal issues. The bond between them was so strong that even the idea of it breaking caused Kagome a ton of stress. She could not do it and would not do it. At the end of the day, they will be in each other’s friend zone and they will die in the friend zone.

She was convinced that Inuyasha had zero feelings for her. He has seen her at her worst, and probably only looks at her like a sister. There was no way he could feel anything more for her.

This is why seeing him flustered and awkward about having to share a bed together did not raise any suspicions. It was obvious he was just a bit uncomfortable with the situation since it has been years since they have shared a bed with each other. They are both in their early twenties now, and sharing a bed was very intimate at this age compared to at 13.

“Yash, I could go downstairs right now and ask for another room. You look like you’re going to have a heart attack.” Kagome grinned at him, trying her best to suppress her shyness.

“Tch. We tried that already! That old hag wasn’t budgin’. This is the last time we let Miroku make hotel reservations.” He anxiously paced around the room.

“I can’t believe they don’t have any rooms with two beds. It’s not like it’s a special weekend or anything, it’s not even that busy this time of year.” She could not help but bite her bottom lip while watching him pace the room. His anxiety was getting to her.

“Well. We’re stuck here now, I tried all of my tricks but that lady wouldn't budge. We just gotta figure this out.”

He disappeared into the closet and pulled out an extra blanket provided by the hotel and placed it on the ground beside the huge bed. It was soft and fluffy enough to provide some comfort, but Kagome knew his back was going to hurt tomorrow and beyond that. They are staying at this hotel for the next few days, and until they can find a new room, they will have to make due.

“Inuyasha, we can just share the bed.” She tried speaking logic into him.

Inuyasha hoped she missed the way his body jolted at her offer because it was an intense one. Share a bed? With his best friend, whom he also harbored feelings for? Not a chance. Not when it was hard for him to even look at her without thinking about all the ways he could hold her.

He was down bad, he just refused to make it obvious. Instead, he played off his feelings for her by being extra rude sometimes. It helped mask his feelings and it was believable because he was naturally a huge jerk. Of course, he has gotten softer because of Kagome, but he turns it on when he needs it. Right now, he was too flustered to even pretend to act like a cocky bastard.

He and Kagome have not shared a bed since they were pre-teens, and that was before puberty kicked in. It took him a while to notice it at first, but when Inuyasha realized he had developed feelings for his best friend, he knew he had to shut it down immediately. He saw the changes she went through, and how she went from this annoying, loud, bossy little girl into this independent and beautiful woman. It was too much for him, and it happened overnight. He sucks at handling his feelings, he is not the best with women, and thus concludes him knowing he is not good for her.

Kagome deserved better, she deserved more than him. Some guy who can talk about his feelings and does not want to punch almost every frustrating person in the face. He was in love with her, so in love, he would sacrifice his chance of happiness just to see her happy with someone else. He will support her from the sidelines, like any good best friend, while his heart tears away at the idea of a love that did not get a chance.

Her friendship was enough for him. That is what he told himself every day.

“No.” He replied flatly. “You probably still kick in your sleep.”

“I do not kick!” He heard her shout.

He laughed, “Tell that to my legs. I think they’re still bruised.”

Of course, he did not miss the way she scoffed as she got the bed ready to sleep in. He could hear her breathing from across the room, her sweet, natural scent filling the space every time she moved around and it was intoxicating.

“Don’t be such a big baby!” She padded the pillows for extra fluff. “You’re a demon, my kicks don’t even hurt you.”

He poked his head out from the closet, looking for anything extra to put on his makeshift bed other than bath towels. “Half demon,” he corrected. “And yes they do.”

She blew out some air from her lungs and padded over towards him, her little feet tip-tapping on the carpet floor. “Inuyashaaaa,” she whined. “If I promise to not kick you, will you please sleep on the bed?”

He swallowed hard, his nerves getting the best of him as he cleared his throat. It took him a second to compose himself before exploding, and then he put on his best face. He raised an eyebrow at her, a smirk playing on his lips with a little fang poking out.

“So you admit that you do kick now. huh?”

Kagome rolled her eyes, immediately walking away from him with her arms crossed against her chest. “You’re impossible!”

After a few seconds of comfortable silence, he heard her zip and unzip her luggage and heave a sigh. “I’m going to change really quickly. I’ll be right back.”

He grunted in return and quickly changed into some sweats and a loose-fit tee shirt. His makeshift bed was as good as it was going to get, the fluffy comforter folded on the ground providing some back support. There were no more extra blankets, but Kagome always brought an extra for traveling, so he would just use hers to sleep in.

Little sounds were coming out from the bathroom and he knew she was doing her nightly routine of skincare and hair brushing. Out of all the women he has ever met, Kagome was the one always on top of her routines. He knew she had one in the morning and one at night, and the only reason why she was not taking her nightly shower was because of how tired she was after a long travel day.

The sound of clothes coming off and then rustling back on her skin was extremely distracting, so he decided to focus on the interesting floor lamp in the corner of the room. It had a rustic-colored body, with a cream-colored lampshade over the light bulb, and it was as boring as any other floor lamp in existence.

The door to the bathroom clicked open, and the sweet scent that was Kagome hit his nose instantly. It was never enough for him and he was so selfish he always wished for more. The citrusy scent mixed with vanilla was expected after she stayed in the bathroom for so long, but he did not expect his heart to skip a beat when he laid eyes on her in her pajamas. To anyone else, it would just be plain sleepwear, but seeing her in a pink tee-shirt and shorts set was driving him insane. There were little white stars decorating the entire ensemble, and Inuyasha could not believe Kagome could get any cuter.

“Nice PJs, what are you, five?” He teased, if only she knew he was dying inside.

She glared at him in return, “At least my pajamas are more fun. You’re in the same thing you always wear.”

“Kagome, you never see me when I’m going to bed.” He was trying really hard to stop himself from stuttering.

“You’re right, but I see you in the mornings when you’re a grump. You don’t change out of them unless you have somewhere to go.”

“I didn’t come here to get chastised for my taste in sweatpants, Kags.”

She giggled and it sent a jolt of electricity into his system. “That may be true, but when we get back home I’m buying you new pajamas. I’ll get some cute ones for you.”

The half-demon narrowed his amber eyes at her, “You’re gonna get matching onesies ain't ya?”

Shrugging her shoulders and shooting him a cheeky little smile, she skipped to her giant bed and left his question unanswered. Choosing to turn off the lights instead, and leaving the duo in the dark.

Cheeky wench he thought.

There was nothing else for either of them to do but get comfortable in bed to sleep. Everyone in the group had had a long day, and he was sure Sango and Miroku were already asleep in the room across from theirs. He was thankful the universe spared him from having to listen to anything that was not snoring.

“What time do you think we’ll all be up by tomorrow?” He heard Kagome ask from above him.

As he made himself comfortable on the floor with the fluffy pillow Kagome had given him he answered, “Hopefully not at noon. I’ll push you off the bed and bang on their door until yer all awake.”

She laughed, “You’ll get us kicked out if you do that.”

“Yeah?” Well, maybe we can find a hotel that has rooms with two beds.” He grumbled.

“Sharing a bed is not a big deal!” Kagome lied, because to her it would definitely be a big deal.

To the blushing half-demon sleeping on the ground, it was also a very big deal. “Goodnight Kagome.”

Kagome pouted, thankful that he could not see the disappointment on her face. “Fine, don’t be extra grumpy when your back hurts tomorrow.”

They flipped on their sides facing away from each other and attempted to sleep. Kagome was doing well, the giant bed was super comfortable and it would bring her to sleep in no time. Except, she could listen to Inuyasha shuffling over on the floor knowing he was trying to find a comfortable position.

A frustrated grunt had her fluttering her eyes open and groggy from sleep. She wondered how long she had been out, and she would ask Inuyasha but he was still tossing and turning on the floor. She rubbed her eyes and let out a tiny yawn before scooting over to the side to look at him.

At the moment, he was fighting with Kagome’s blanket and was one minute closer to taking the car keys and sleeping inside the car.

“Inuyasha?” he heard her ask. Her voice was soft and sounded small, she looked tired and in much need of sleep.

“Kags? Hey, sorry for waking you.” He said apologetically.

She shook her head with a little smile to show him she felt no animosity towards him. “Yash, you’re uncomfortable. Please come to bed.”

“You say that like it’s easy..” he muttered over his beating heart. She was so tired, and yet here she was still concerned over him and putting his needs before her own.

“It’s not easy.” She replied sleepily.

“What?” He sat up from his floor bed and looked at her. Her eyes were glossed over, and a little smile was painted on her face. “Kags, what do you mean?”

She shrugged awkwardly in her laying down position and yawned again. “I like you, so, it’s not easy for me to tell you that.. but you can’t sleep on the floor.”

Inuyasha’s face heated up instantly, a blush so red and deep that he could make tomatoes jealous of its color. There was no way she was telling him the truth. There was absolutely no way she was reciprocating his feelings right now, because this all seems too good to be true, and nothing this amazing ever happens to him. He was already lucky enough to call her his best friend, but for her to like him back when he had never told her was more than he could have asked for.

Her words processed rather quickly, and Kagome shot up from the bed. suddenly wide awake. There was absolutely no way she just said that to him. Every second that passed caused her to overthink everything, and she felt like her friendship with him was slipping out of her fingers the more time passed.

“I- I mean! Um.. no? Uh. I didn’t say that! Forget what I said!” She laughed nervously, “Haha funny joke!”

Her stuttering was going through one fluffy ear and out of the other because he was still trying to process what she said. He could see her better than she could see him, and her blushing face did not match the denial she was spewing at him.

“Would you laugh too if I told you I felt the same way?” His voice wavered during his confession while his stomach made flips.

“You…” Kagome paused and took a deep breath in a failed attempt to get herself to relax. “You like me too?”

“Yep.”

“..For how long?”

“Since I turned 13 and saw you in that one blue dress at the school dance.” There was no going back for him now.

She remembered that day pretty easily because it was one of her most cherished memories. It was the middle school dance, and everyone was super excited to find someone to go with. Naturally Kagome went with Inuyasha since they were so inseparable, and she wanted to surprise him and go in her new blue dress. That whole night Inuyasha was acting weirder than usual, but she thought it was because of the school dance, not because of her or her blue dress.

“What about you?” His question dragged her out of her thoughts.

“Around the same time as you, except it was after the dance. Yura cut off some of my hair because she was kinda obsessed with it, and mama had to even it out afterward. It was so short, and I hated it! But you came up to me when I was crying and told me I was pretty with my short hair, and then you yelled at Yura the next day.

“That’s when I sort of figured I liked you more than just as my best friend.” She admitted.

The two best friends stared at each other in bewilderment due to their confessions. The words they shared are still floating above them like small clouds. The fear of their feelings staying one-sided was nothing but a fluke now, because their feelings were reciprocated.

“Do you um..” Kagome coughed, “Wanna get off the floor and talk about it some more?” She padded the mattress for emphasis.

He was sure he looked like an idiot with how fast he got up from the carpet. Maybe she did not see it that way, but he sure did feel that way. He felt like he was floating even with his body now firmly on the large bed. He left a small space between them, on the off chance that he was reading into it too much.

It was quiet between them and sleep was still creeping onto them like a predator watching its prey.

“You know I expected my confession to you to be kinda dramatic.” Kagome laughed, “Like, we have a huge fight and we’re yelling at each other from across the room and then you say something stupid and I just kinda scream it out.”

The half-demon raised a brow at her in amusement. “You watch way too many movies, Kagome.”

She pushed on his shoulder in mock offense, “Don’t pretend like you don’t sit there and watch them with me!”

“That’s because you force me to watch them with you. How many times have we seen the Notebook? I lost count!”

“Okay, okay, first of all, we haven’t seen the Notebook since high school. I’ll admit we saw it too often, but not recently!”

“Yeah?” He grinned at her, his fang poking out only adding to the effect he has on her. “Doesn’t mean we haven’t seen similar movies.”

She huffed, “I’m a sucker for romance. You can’t blame me for that.”

Inuyasha watched as her lips turned out into a little pout and she puffed out her chest. Those same lips he has always caught himself staring too hard at, the ones he thought about kissing everyday but knew he never could. Well, here was his chance; and she was sitting right in front of him.

Before he could back out of it, he leaned in closer to her face and stared directly into her dark brown eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and the little gasp she let out echoed his ears. Her breath fawned over his lips as she realized how close they were to touching. Her eyes flicked from his golden ones to his lips, and then back to his eyes again.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked her breathlessly. He was totally enthralled by her and her full, parted lips.

She nodded in anticipation knowing that her voice would fail her if she tried to speak.

His lips were on hers instantly as he drank her in like water. They were as soft and plush as he expected them to be but they were also even more than that. Their lips molded against each other so easily it was strange to think about why he waited so long to do this in the first place. The kiss they shared was sweet and cautious but still electrifying. He did not want to scare her away in case she backed out of it, but little did he know she was savoring this moment between them.

Slowly, they parted ways as they tried to catch their breath. Inuyasha noted how cute she looked with pink-tinted cheeks, kiss swollen lips, and sparkling eyes as she looked at him. He could not stop the grin from showing up on his face after finally being able to kiss the girl of his dreams, the same girl that was a bit too far from him at the moment.

“Come ‘ere.” He slurred, his voice deep and rich with admiration. He extended his arms to her and beckoned her towards him with a blush still on his cheeks.

Without saying a word she crawled over to him and broke the remaining space they had between them. She fit into his lap so perfectly and she never wanted to live a life where she could not do this again. The butterflies in her stomach were eating her alive but she powered through the feeling and laid her head on his shoulder. His strong arms embraced her small figure and pressed her into him while he fought the nerves in his body to relax. This was still extremely new to the both of them, but suddenly they wanted to be as close to each other as possible.

They sat together like this for a few minutes until Inuyasha noticed that Kagome was starting to drift away into sleep again. Even the excitement of a love confession was not strong enough against the pull of sleep.

“Kags,” he whispered. “Let’s lay down. You need to sleep more comfortably.”

She protested, “But I’m comfy here.”

Before she could say anything more he quickly changed their position and laid down on the bed. With one arm still holding Kagome snuggly on him, he used the other to bring up the giant comforter to cover the both of them. He was glad they both decided to leave the lights off during the entire ordeal they had earlier so he did not have to get up and ruin her comfortable position.

Kagome was thankful for the lights staying off too because she was not going to let Inuyasha go even for a second. Miroku and Sango might be extremely confused tomorrow morning when they notice the change in dynamic but that will be tackled when they get to it. Right now, she is way more content with her head on his chest and his hand on her back.

Before she officially dozed off into slumber, she kissed his chin and snuggled into him. With her head on his chest, she could hear the erratic beating of his heart after her surprise kiss. He said nothing as he listened to her breathing steadily with every minute that passed until her grip on his arm went slack.

Inuyasha had not expected so much to happen between them in a span of a few hours. Their dynamic now changed forever. He was aware that they still had more to talk about, but for now, he was going to cherish this moment with her. He kissed her forehead one more time out of pure need and desire before settling in to catch some sleep.

He would never deny sharing the bed with her ever again.

#inukagfluffweek2021 #inukag #inukag fan fiction #inukag fic #ao3 #inuyasha #inuyasha x kagome

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missgarnet · 3 years

Text

Baby Daddies Ch. 3

Pairing: ot7 x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: pg13?

Genre: fluff, and a little bit of chaos

Summary: So... no one tells you what to expect when you and your friends with benefits are about to have a child. (All plans are thrown out the window when your 7 closest friends find out they're going to become dads.)

Warnings: My own horrible sense of humor, pregnancy, Jin feels left out, and even more chaos

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Link to ao3

“You know, if you keep stealing my clothes I won’t have anything to wear. I’ll be forced to walk around the apartment completely nude.” Hoseok teased as he spotted you in another one of his shirts.

“Ooooh now that’s an offer I can hardly refuse. Comfy shirts and a handsome man strutting around my house without any clothes. If only he would make me breakfast too.”

“We could call the guys, see if one of them wants to get breakfast together.”

“Nah,” you said, trying to catch the toast before your overly excited toaster could throw it across the room this time. “They’ve all been so busy with work this week. I know you all said to call anytime, but you need to be taking care of yourselves too.”

Hobi started the coffee pot and sat down at the counter, going back into the routine the two of you had fallen into this last week. “Speaking of the other guys, when are you going to tell them? I know you said you wanted a little more time but they deserve to know too, we’re all in this together.”

“I know, I just don’t want to deal with everyone finding out all at once.I’m hanging out with Jimin and Tae tonight, I thought I should probably tell them next so they don’t have to hear it from Jungkook”

“Oooh, I almost forgot about your little date tonight!” Hoseok joked.

You huffed and rolled your eyes at this, ”It’s not a date, Tae finally got an offer from that gallery downtown. He just wanted to check out some of the other photography there to figure out how he wants to set everything up, and then we’re going back to their place to hangout.”

The words you were saying might have been more believable if you hadn’t started burying your face in your hands, trying to will away the heat of embarrassment. After all you were just friends, sure you were having a kid together now but that was it. All of you had slept together over the years, but it wasn’t like you were actually dating any of them. It wasn’t your place to go on dates with Jimin and Tae, or get jealous when one of your friends got a little too handsy with Jin.

Each of you adored one another more than anything, but that’s what friends are for. You’d be kidding yourself to think it was anything more. Hobi seemed to notice something was off, pulling you onto the couch with him as he turned on one of your favourite game shows.

Just as the two of you finally settled on the couch the door was thrown open by Jimin, “Surprise shawty!”

“I swear you’ve been around Jungkook too much again,” You said shaking your head as he strolled into your apartment with makeup bags tucked under his arm and a curling iron in his hand.

You trailed him to the little bathroom attached to your room, lifting yourself to sit on the counter as he started pulling the makeup brushes from their bag. The rest of the guys used to tease the two of you about taking so long to get ready, but you enjoyed the little routine you’d fallen into.

There was a comforting warmth in your chest as he helped you get ready and you were happy to bask in every moment of it, taking in the gentleness of him sweeping the makeup brushes across your skin, his sweet smile right in front of you as he played with one of the curls he just finished, the little furrow of his eyebrows as he tried to focus on getting your eyeliner perfect on the first try.

“Are you ready to go yet?” Taehyung called from the couch.

You glanced over at Jimin, still touching up his makeup in the mirror. “I’m not sure that I’m the one you should be asking. I just have to zip up my dress and then I’m good to go.”

“Hobi, could you give me a hand? I can’t reach the zipper.”

He moved your hair out of the way as he gently tugged the zipper up, but there was just one problem. “Y/N… the zipper’s not going any higher.”

It was one of your looser fitting dresses, you’d been hoping that the higher waistline would let you keep wearing it for a little while longer. Unfortunately the twins were getting bigger every day, which meant that you were too. This wouldn’t have been a problem if you’d have had any time to go shopping for your first set of maternity clothes. Most of your week had been spent wearing one of Hobi’s shirts or the hoodies you stole from Jungkook.

“Houston, we have a problem.” Tae and Jimin looked up as you said this, “None of my clothes are fitting and I can’t keep stealing clothes from you guys. I think it’d be easier if you guys just went without me this time”

Jimin hopped off the counter “Nope, you can borrow something from one of us for now and then we can go buy something for you to wear tonight.”

Before you could even argue you noticed Tae already giving you puppy dog eyes, “Please? It wouldn’t be the same without you, and we could have fun picking out clothes too.”

Needless to say the two of them easily suckered you into what was supposed to be a brief shopping trip. It was supposed to be a quick run, but the baby section was right next to the maternity clothes, and it couldn’t hurt to look. Everything was so cute and the three of you ended up going even deeper into the aisles looking at the cribs, stuffed animals, and baby blankets.

“It’s so cute.” Jimin said holding up the tiniest button up you’d ever seen. Tae was right next to him looking at another impossibly small pair of converse. The boys had been piling almost every adorable little baby thing they could find into the cart without you noticing until now.

Reaching into the cart you started picking up each piece on it’s own. There were onesies, dresses, and even little mittens. Everything just felt so tiny and fragile in your hands. “Guys, this is too much. It still feels too soon to be getting all this, they’re still really small and we don’t need all of it right away.”

“You’re right, we already have a lot of the basics anyway.” Tae said as if that were obvious.

“We do?”

“Yea,” Jimin added. “We’ve all ordered a couple things, but Jin and Namjoon have a small collection in the guest room right now.”

You picked up one of the onesies from the cart, tracing the two little elephants printed on the front. Were you really the only one who wasn’t prepared for all this? Maybe this was a sign, you still didn’t feel ready for all this but you had people who were. And that was enough for you to try. “What if we just get two of these, that way they can have matching outfits. Maybe we can come back and get two of the little bouncy chairs in a few months.”

It was hilarious to see the look on their faces once everything clicked. Jimin was trying to keep his makeup from smudging as he fought to hold back tears, and Tae was overjoyed as well, throwing his arms around you and pulling you into a tight embrace.

As the three of you were finally leaving the store with way more than you needed, you noticed Tae frowning as he typed out a message on his phone. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I was just asking Namjoon if we needed to start buying two of everything now.”

“Oh dear,” you muttered as you snatched your phone from your purse trying to get a hold of him before he saw Tae’s message. It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to know, you just felt like he deserved more than just a text from one of the guys.

Pausing for a moment you began to tap your foot chanting “pick up, pick up” over and over again. You were right about to hang up and try again as the ringing came to a halt. “Hey Namjoon, what are you doing right now?”

“I’m at the maknae’s. Why, what’s up?” He sounded out of breath and you swear you could hear Jungkook and Hobi shouting in the background.

Taking a deep breath you figured it’d be best to just rip off the bandaid and tell him as soon as possible. “I wanted to tell you in person, but then Tae texted and I felt like it would be better if I just called and told you myself. And I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but we’re having twins.”

It went silent for a second before you could hear him laughing through the phone, “You’re fine, Yoongi already told me after you three got back from your appointment. He wanted to know if there was anything we should be doing to help, and I just figured you’d bring it up whenever you were ready.”

“I’m sorry, I should have told you earlier. I promise I’ll get better at talking about all this.”

“What are they like? Do they have their dads’ good looks yet?”

“Not yet, but they have Jimin’s hands.” Glancing to the side you could see him trying to glare at you but failing to hold back a smile.

You didn’t realize they were leading you home until you were taking the elevator to the maknaes’ apartment, Taehyung pulling you through the door as Jimin carried the bags that he managed to sneak away from you. They set everything in the hall and rushed to meet the others in the living room.

As you rounded the corner you could see Jimin yelling at Jungkook again, “Ya! Why didn’t you tell us? I take care of you and you can’t even tell me that I’m about to be a dad of two.”

“How could you keep the twins all to yourself!” Tae jokingly complained as he flopped down onto Jungkook’s lap.

Hobi poked his head out from Jungkook’s room trying to see everyone, “what’s going on?”

Tae looked up and used the puppy eyes he knew none of you could resist as he pouted, “Kookie was keeping the twins all to himself and didn’t tell us about them.”

The face he was making was just too adorable for you to ignore, but before you were able to give him forehead kisses like you had hoped, Jin peeked out from the same room Hobi had come from. Had it been any other day, your eyes may have fallen to the hickeys on his chest, his belt hanging halfway off, or the way his shirt had missing buttons from being torn off by one of the guys. Instead your gaze fell to the saddened look on Jin’s face.

“Was I the only one you didn’t tell?”

The room was uncomfortable silent and you noticed Hobi awkwardly creeping his way back into Jungkook’s room. Jungkook finally broke the silence as he cleared his throat, “I’m just gonna give you guys some space.”

You looked up to see all three of the maknaes getting up to rush into Jungkook’s room and avoid the awkward situation they were leaving you in. “Jin, I’m so sorry.”

“No you’re not. None of you are. I’m the one who’s always been there taking care of all of you, and I’m always the one being left out.”

“That’s not true.”

He sighed and shook his head, “It is. Why do you think I’ve been at your place so much these last couple weeks? I just wanted to feel like I had a part in all of this. It was wrong of me to start betting on how far along you were, but I wasn’t trying to be mean. I just thought if you were a little further along then they might be just mine.”

“Jin, you are just as much a part of this as the rest of us. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out in any way.” You sat down on the couch, pulling him along with you.

He laid next to you and pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and gently placing one hand on your stomach. “I just want to know that all of you are going to be okay. I know you don’t want to talk about everything right away, but you can’t just close me out. If I’m a part of this then I want to do this together as a family.”

“I know, I’m trying.” you said intertwining your hand with his. As much as the two of you like to joke around and bicker with each other, you could never stop caring about Jin. There was something about being wrapped up in his arms that always made you feel safe and cared for. “You know, there’s still a lot I don’t know about you either.”

“I am an open book, ask me anything.”

You knew that was true for the most part, Jin and you might constantly annoy one another but the two of you shared everything… well almost everything. “What’s that story you won’t let Joonie tell me.”

“Let me rephrase that. Ask me anything else.”

“I mean, if neither of you will tell me I could just ask Hobi.”

“There’s a reason we don’t talk about it. It might be the only secret that Hoseok can keep.”

“Come on, you already told me about the time you ran over two kids and almost broke your nose trying to sled with Joon. What’s so bad you can’t tell me, weren’t we best friends?”

“Yes, which is why I’m not telling you.”

“Ok, what about this? You tell me what happened, and if the twins are both boys you get to name one of them whatever you want.”

You hadn’t noticed the other boys leaving the room they were hiding in until Namjoon walked into the room and immediately sent Jin a warning look, “Don’t do it.”

Jin didn’t even hesitate as he blurted out, “A couple years ago Namjoon and I got married in Vegas!”

Everyone’s heads whipped towards the eldest man as he said that, the youngest of the group in shock and the older half already shaking their head or roaring with laughter. You however were wondering if you’d even heard that right, surely your best friend at the time wouldn’t get married without telling you. “You what now?”

Noticing everyone’s eyes on him, Jin’s face began to grow red as a tomato. “Remember when you went on vacation with the maknaes and the rest of us went to Vegas? Well, we met this guy dressed as Elvis, had a couple drinks, and played the slot machines. Next thing I know it’s two days later and I find a video of us getting married by a drag queen.”

“Jin, what the fuck?”

#bangtanuniversity #bts fic #bts fluff #chaotic bts fic #bts ot7 x reader #bts fanfic #bts ff

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harryspet · 4 years

Text

rogue angel [2] bucky barnes

[Warnings] darky bucky barnes x reader, noncon forced aged regression, daddy bucky, dd lg dynamic, ab dl dynamic, very light bondage, drugging, angst

A/N: I got a wayyy better response on the first chapter than I expected! Thank you all so much for reading! I guess I would call this chapter more of a filler with the reader just adjusting to her new life.

In which someone actually starts to care for you.

series masterlist

word count: 2.9k

You were strapped to a table, serums of their making pumping into your body, a contraption attached to your head designed to send electric waves through your skin. You screamed for hours. Why didn’t you stop screaming? It never helped. It never made them stop the pain. Perhaps it was because your mind was so empty.

You sat up straight, startled, at the memory. That’s when you realized Bucky’s hands were undoing the gag around your mouth, “I’ve got ya, angel,” You heard him say, finally able to close your lips together. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d carried you upstairs and ran a bath for you until you were actually sitting in the tub.

It wasn’t the being naked that frightened you, it was the soothing hand on your back and fingers rubbing soap into your skin. The traumatizing memory had taken you away for a moment but now you were back in reality, where something even worse was happening.

You had wet yourself in front of him and, like you were a child, he had cleaned you up. You couldn’t remember what it was like to be a child, you only knew what they had taught you about youth. In your opinion, the milestones seemed a bit boring, something you didn’t mind skipping. What use would pink overalls and bubble baths be to Hydra?

It wasn’t like you had much choice when Bucky brought the washcloth between your legs, you had much control over them as a baby doe.

“Is your arm waterproof?” You asked, your curiosity striking you.

Bucky chuckled, “For the most part, yes, but I try not to shower with it.” You nodded and had a feeling that Bucky was just happy that you were interacting with him in any capacity.

“What … what are you going to do to me here?” There had to be other reasons why he was keeping you in the middle of nowhere.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N.”

That wouldn’t be your name. No matter how much he said it, it would never belong to you.

“But you want to turn me against them? Like Steve Rogers did to you?” Bucky pressed the cloth against your shoulder, swiping down your arm. The soap smelled like warm vanilla and, you wouldn’t admit it, but you liked it.

“Steve and I already had an emotional connection, we were friends. That’s what helped me realize their lies. You don’t have any ties so I thought I could help build you one, with me.”

With him. As your Daddy.

Maybe you could pretend, you thought. As soon as his guard was down, you could make a move, “I’ve never needed anyone.”

“It’s not a bad thing to need someone,” Bucky spoke earnestly but you only rolled your eyes.

You didn’t protest when he lifted you from the tub or when he held your body as he dried every inch of your skin. Your teeth were gritted the entire time but your current plan was to comply and cause him to let his guard down. Even Bucky seemed surprised that you weren’t fighting him.

He carried you from the bathroom into your “new room” which you didn’t get a chance to fully take in before. The walls and the furniture were both white but everything else seemed to be full of pastels. There was a bed fit with light pink sheets, mint green pillows, and lots of stuffed animals. A toy chest sat beneath the window and a giant, oversized rabbit sat right next to it.

It was eerily calm in the room and you could see the last shreds of sunlight coming in through the white curtains on the windows. He set you gently on the twin bed and you watched as he crossed the plush white carpet towards a large white armoire. Your eyes widened as it opened, revealing a rainbow assortment of clothes.

You took a wild guess and assumed they were all in your size. How long had he been planning this?

“What’s your favorite color, angel?” You met his blue eyes and found a soft expression on his face. You thought for a moment before shrugging. You hadn’t thought about it nor did you think it really mattered. He continued, “Hmmm, unicorns or spaceships?”

He held out the options for you to see and you winced, “Why can’t I wear normal clothes?”

“You’re too small for big girl clothes,” He spoke, making the decision for you. Spaceships it was.

“I am a-” You stopped yourself. You could do it, you told yourself.

You let him slip the onesie over your head which was white and had little planets and spaceships printed on it. He urged you to lay down flat and that was when he reached into a drawer beneath a bed. As soon as you saw it, your plan went out the window, “No, no, I’m not wearing that!” You stared at the pink pull-up he’d grabbed, “I’m not a baby, you fu-”

He pinned your hands down above your head and you desperately tried to move your legs, “What if you have another accident?” He continued, slipping one of your feet into one of the holes.

“Please,” Bucky paused, and even you hadn’t expected the word to leave your mouth, “I won’t have another one.”

“Say ‘Please, Daddy’” You scowled at him, “It’s hard for me to listen when you don’t address me properly, angel.”

You shut your eyes, taking a deep breath before swallowing the small shred of pride you had left, “P-Please … D-Daddy,” You stuttered out.

Bucky smiled, the hand that wasn’t pinning your arm was rubbing your legs soothingly, “Good girl, angel, now ask Daddy for what you want. Use your big girl words.”

“Can I … Can I please wear regular-”

“Big girl panties,” He interjected, correcting you.

You gritted your teeth, “Can I please wear big girl panties ... “ He waited patiently, knowing the word was on the tip of your tongue, “Daddy?”

Bucky smirked, loving the name on your lips, “How about this, angel?” You struggled as he continued to slide it on you, “If you eat all of your dinner and you keep this dry all night, I’ll let you wear big girl panties. I’ll even let you pick the pair.”

Clearly, he hadn’t completely gotten rid of his sadistic side when he left Hydra. You felt that as soon as he buttoned the onesie closed.

You hated him but you had to admit he was smart. You couldn’t refuse to eat or you’d risk further embarrassment tomorrow. Tomorrow. It was starting to sink in that you’d be here for a while.

After he’d put the clothes on you, he’d brushed out your hair, tying it back for you. His movements were a little clumsy but you could feel his happiness as he accomplished each task. It seemed like he had been practicing.

He was even more excited to present you with a small, bear plushie that he thought would bring you comfort.

He brought you down to the living room, setting you on the plush couch before ordering you to sit still while he went to retrieve something. Something he wanted to show you. As he walked out of the room, you looked around, noting the coziness of the room but also the locks on every window.

You were mapping it out when suddenly heard the subtle sound of nails scratching against the floor. A dog ran into the room, jumping onto the couch and attacking you with a lick to the face, “Y/N, meet Archer,” You were unsure of how to interact with the creature for a moment until you decided to brush behind his ears. The husky dog seemed to like it, nuzzling further into you.

You couldn’t remember ever petting a dog before and you had no idea they could be so … friendly. Archer seemed to already love you as he continuously lapped at your face.

Bucky could see you letting your wall down and, deciding not to interrupt that, he left to start on dinner. He figured Archer would keep you busy and also let him know if you tried to escape.

When dinner was almost read, Bucky walked back into the living room to find you sitting on the living room carpet, playing tug of war with the stuffed animal. Archer easily ripped off the bear’s head and you giggled … Bucky actually heard you giggle.

“Bad dog, Archie,” He scolded the dog as Archer dropped the bear’s head into Bucky’s hand obediently, “We don’t chew on Y/N’s toys.”

“No, look, he likes it!” You protested, insisting that Archer get to destroy the rest of the toy, handing archer the rest of the bear. You clapped your hands as Archer ran around the living room, shaking it in his mouth.

Bucky sighed, figuring he could try to tame an assassin but he couldn’t stop her from liking to watch things be dismembered.

“Alright, dinner time,” Bucky lifted you from the carpet, carrying you into the kitchen, Archer in tow. He helped you wash your hands before sitting you down in your seat at the dining table. You were like a little doll, helpless but it didn’t seem like Bucky mined doing every little thing for you.

You and Bucky were eating the same meal but his plate looked vastly different than yours. Your plate was flower printed and was separated into sections. Your steak was cut up into already tiny pieces and your fork was barely sharp enough to pick up your food. And then there was the dreaded sippy cup that he expected you to drink from.

You held your fork, staring at the plate as Bucky started to cut his own steak, “Big girl panties,” Bucky winked, bringing a piece of steak to his mouth, “Remember? You have to eat all of it. I know you’re starving.”

Whatever leverage Bucky he could get, he used. He had to get her used to eating regularly and not using it as a way to protest.

You poked at your broccoli before bringing a piece to your mouth, “Good job, angel,” He praised you as you continued to eat. You were starving and this is exactly what your body was craving. You finished your plate faster than either of you expected and Bucky asked, “Do you want more?”

You immediately shook your head even though it was far from the truth.

Bucky could tell you were lying and you flashed him a look of surprise as he slid the rest of his food onto your plate, cutting up the steak into small pieces for you, “Eat some more,” He told you and you lifted your fork again.

It confused you, why he even cared about you. No matter how sinister his intentions might be, you found it was strange that he showed you even a little bit of compassion.

Bucky watched you as you finished the rest of the food and he was satisfied when you cleaned your plate again. Thinking about the condition he found you in, he figured that you hadn’t been eating much since you were forced to abandon Hydra.

He understood the mental battle you were going through right now and he was expecting it would be a while before you slipped into little space but he’d be patient.

Bucky watched from the doorway as you played with Archie on the floor of your bedroom. You seemed to already have him better trained than Bucky ever did. Bucky noticed the less he interfered, the more you seemed to slip into things. He even noticed you sipping at your sippy cup and, as your actions grew lazier, he knew the sedative was kicking in.

He had to get you a sleeping schedule as well. You’d fall into things better with patterns. Consistency was another thing that made humans feel safe.

Your eyes felt heavy as you laid down on the carpet. Everything in this house was so … soft. Archie pranced over to you, licking at your chin and you pushed him away, a lazy grin on your face.

You felt Bucky’s arms around you before you even noticed he had approached you, “I think it’s bedtime, princess,” Princess, that was a new one.

“I’m not tired,” You moaned, sleepily, as he scooped you into his arm, “Archie save me … I’m being taken.”

Bucky chuckled, setting you down into the bed, and pulling a blanket over you, “It’s Archie’s bedtime too,” Bucky spoke softly, “Why don’t you say goodnight?”

You watched as she raised her hand to wave at the dog sitting idly by, “N-Night Archie,” Bucky’s heart warmed at the sight, noting how cute you were when you were tired. Bucky whistled and the dog pranced out of the room, his tail wagging.

“He’ll be here in the morning,” Bucky assured you, sitting down at the edge of the bed. His hands touched your hair, soothing brushing it back with his fingers. Your eyes were already closed, a stuffed giraffe tucked into you.

“What … about … you?”

“I’ll be here too, angel,” With that, she seemed to drift off into sleep.

You awoke to sunlight on your face and the sound of birds chirping. For a moment, you looked around and felt safe … until the panic settled in. You started to move your legs, realizing you could finally move them a bit but, as you pulled the blanket off, you saw a cuff wrapped around your right leg.

You investigated, finding it attached to a chain that seemed to be connected to the bed itself. You pulled at it with all the strength you could muster and nothing. It was a powerful magnet just like that gag he had put on you.

You had fallen asleep? You couldn’t think about it that long as Bucky appeared, opening the door slowly. Maybe there was some type of camera in here that was tracking your movements for him. You didn’t put it past him.

“Good morning, princess,” He greeted you and you noted his dark t-shirt and basketball shorts. You didn’t think he’d look normal in clothes typical for relaxing. He walked over, reaching down to undo the restraint but he paused, “Don’t you have something to say to Daddy?”

Great, you thought, sighing, “Good morning, Daddy,” Bucky imagined a point in the future where you spoke words like that enthusiastically. With that small sign of submission, Bucky undid the restraint and you noted he didn’t even use a special key. Maybe it had something to do with his arm?

“Sleep well?” You nodded though you knew that was probably due to whatever he had put in your drink, “It’s nice out so I was thinking we’d go out after breakfast, what do you think?”

“Go where?” You raised an eyebrow. He only narrowed his eyes at you, expecting you to add a formality, “Go where Daddy?” You corrected yourself, a fake smile on your face.

“Down by the lake, for a picnic,” How romantic, you thought, wanting to roll your eyes, “What would you like to wear, angel?”

“Something normal preferably,” You were long overdue for a spanking, Bucky thought. He had to remind himself that it was only your first day here and there’d probably be lots of punishments in your future.

“I thought you wanted those big girl panties... maybe you’ve gotten used to you little girl ones?” You paused, unwilling to admit that you had forgotten about them.

A staring contest ensued as he waited for you to back down and, as he expected, you did, “I like the color red … Daddy.”

Bucky was satisfied and you were glad you were getting a little bit of your womanhood back. You hadn’t even noticed how subtle he was with his system of rewards and punishments. With every good thing you did, he praised you and when you made snarky comments he threatened to put the pampers back on you.

He brought you to the bathroom to relieve yourself, very awkwardly, and to brush your teeth. After, he picked out a red gingham dress whose skirt barely covered your bottom and allowed your bubblegum pink underwear to peak out beneath it. He matched it with a pair of black mary jane shoes and, as a cherry on top, he tied a red bow into your hair.

You sat on the bathroom counter, watching him as he did his work. Looking at his face, you could tell he liked dressing you up, and, although you didn’t hate the dress, you didn’t like the unfamiliarity of it. You’d never dressed like this before and it made you feel a little insecure which made you even more frustrated.

You looked back into the mirror and your eyes widened. You had never looked so … feminine. Your face had even gained some color and you had to poke your face to make sure it was real, “You look beautiful, angel,” Bucky’s words took you back. You’d never heard that from someone other than the old men you were forced to flirt with on missions.

You shook your head, embarrassed, but Bucky continued, “You do.”

You looked at him, trying to read his blue eyes, and you froze as he leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Never had someone done that either, “You’re heaven-sent, I’m sure of it. You’ve just been lost for a little while, that’s all.”

You felt something foreign, like that thing inside your chest was finally beating.

Send me an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist! If there’s something you want to see in this series, I’m open to ideas, just send me an ask! Hope you enjoyed!

#dark fic #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky fic #bucky fluff #dark bucky x reader #winter soldier #marvel #marvel smut #dark marvel #mcu fanfiction #mcu x reader #mcu smut #avengers x y/n #florence pugh

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ashintheairlikesnow · 3 years

Text

The Fight

CW: Ableism against a child, references to attempted noncon/assault of a survivor, religious references to the Bible, conditioning, trauma recovery, trauma response

TIMELINE: Immediately post-Creepy Pet Lib Guy. Links in piece.

She hears his footsteps, the soft motion of him through the living room and into the den, where a single lamp is on in the corner on the side table next to the old couch Paul never could bear to throw out. Ronnie doesn’t look over at him, instead picking at a bit of duct tape affixed over a ripped spot while sipping her beer straight from the bottle.

There’s a show on the television - they have a new one finally, but Ronnie’s never thrown out a damn thing that wasn’t broken just because it got replaced and she’s not about to start now, so she moved it in here - but she’s not watching it. Not even sure what the show is, only that the laugh track is tinny and never seems timed to the moments of actual humor.

The house is mostly silent, this late at night. There’s no sound but the occasional gurgle from the ice machine in the fridge, the soft hum of electronics that she never notices except when the power goes out, and then only because of its sudden absence.

No sound but the television’s off-key laughter and the footsteps of her son, creeping up behind her.

“Mommy?” His voice is so high and soft, fuzzy with sleepiness, and she turns with a tired smile to see him dragging his favorite blanket behind him along the floor. It’s a quilt she bought at a church’s Christmas market when he was two, and it had buttons sewn in with the patches, giving the cats the quilt is decorated with three-dimensional button eyes.

His face is rounded and so like his father’s, even so, his face and eyes and his hair are all Paul’s, through and through. He’s an echo, a clone of his father, in a lot of ways… up to and including navigating a world that has already labeled him as difficult, and he’s only six years old.

“Hey, baby. What are you doing up?” She’s twenty-three with a six year old son, and doesn’t that seem strange, some days? So many of her friends from high school are still out until dawn, posting photos of their drunken shenanigans on Facebook, and here Ronnie sits… twenty-three, with a husband who works nights, and a six-year-old son whose teacher calls him hopeless, right to his fucking face.

“I, I, I had a bad dream,” He says, and his eyes are so, so big in his small round face. Paul’s eyes are like that, big and green and soulful. She’d fallen into them, her junior year, and she’d never wanted to climb back out. No matter that her friends thought he was weird, no matter that yeah, okay, he is weird - he’s her kind of weird, and she and Paul understood each other right from the start.

“Oh, no.” She pats the couch cushion beside her and he clambers almost eagerly up to tuck himself in beside her. Her throat nearly closes as he carefully spreads his blanket out to cover them both, the simple gesture of care and love. How do you look this boy in the eyes and tell him he can’t do something? “What was your bad dream about, do you want to tell me?”

“Monsters,” He says, as if that single word relays all the information she could possibly need. Maybe it does, really - at least the monsters her son dreams about are easier to vanquish than the ones Ronnie has to help him learn how to face on his own as he grows.

“Good thing I monster-proofed this house before we moved in,” Ronnie teases. She moves her arm around his shoulders and he smiles, faintly, eyes closing as he leans his head against her collarbone, his ear right where he’s always wanted it, ever since birth - over her heart. Listening to her heartbeat. Sure enough, his fingers find their way to her stomach and start to tap in time with it, and Ronnie sips her beer again.

“Monsters aren’t, aren’t, aren’t real, actually,” He says, speaking quietly and without opening her eyes, and Ronnie thinks if her six-year-old well, actuallys her one more time… she read all the parenting books and has a whole shelf of parenting memoirs she’s picked up and not a single one mentioned that little kids are fucking know-it-alls. Not one.

“Well, if they’re not real, then why are you buggin’ Mommy at midnight because of dreaming about them, huh?” She keeps her voice light and affectionate, just this side of teasing. Tristan doesn’t react well to any kind of perceived anger or rejection, moping for a day or more around while his brain tries to process that she didn’t stop loving him just because he did something that bothered her. Tris as a toddler broke her heart more than once with terrified insistence that you, you, you don’t even like me anymore after time-outs or discipline.

He’s just being manipulative, her mother had said once, but Ronnie knew better.

He’s three years old, Mom. He’s not trying to manipulate me, he’s scared.

He’s just doing what works, Veronica, you can’t always give in to it.

Mom. He is a little boy. Do you realize how you sound?

Now his teacher is repeating the same tired circular logic that cycles round and round her son without ever seeing him. Ronnie is staring down the barrel of another round of meetings, talking to administrators to try and get around the teacher’s rigidity and hostility, arguing for Tris to get moved into a new class, and all the while he’ll fall further and further behind in his in-class work - while at home he rockets through the homeschooling workbooks she buys, a six-year-old already doing second-grade reading and writing work, first-grade math, obsessed with a kid show about science that they have to watch every single day or he has seriously informed her he might die.

The knowledge is there, and his love of learning hasn’t been throttled by school yet, and Ronnie can’t do anything but try to work within a system that tells her that her son needs to be changed or cured in order to not be kept locked away from everyone else.

Monsters are pretty fucking real, in Ronnie’s experience.

One day her son will have to learn that all the monsters are human beings.

God, she’s so tired of fighting, and so very aware that she’s not going to stop until the whole damn world remakes itself to give space for Tristan, until the world deserves how unreservedly her son loves it.

She takes another drink, then sets the beer bottle carefully down on the coaster - she ordered them last year, and they all have little stylized drawings of the three of them on it, faceless sketches of a man, a woman, a child - man and child red-headed, woman with brown hair.

When she’d gotten the positive pregnancy test, right before Thanksgiving her junior year, she’d thrown up and cried for a week and been sullen and silent at the holiday table, trying to figure out what to do next.

But Paul had never hesitated. When she told him, his response had been to go home to his dad and ask to start working part-time with the Garden, running packages he never looked into, playing lookout outside of bars while the Garden met inside. His first pay - cash handed to him in an envelope - he’d spent some of it on a onesie, a baby blanket, and a stuffed puppy with fur so soft Ronnie could barely stand the fluff.

Then he’d spent some more on ginger chews and ‘Preggo Pops’, lollipops that were supposed to help with Ronnie’s morning sickness, and three books on pregnancy for her and one book on becoming a dad for him.

Paul did what Paul always did - took one look at a cliff he had to cross and simply leapt headfirst and hoped for the best. That impulsiveness that she loved and that had gotten him in so much trouble in life, the enthusiasm that carried her long with it.

There are monsters in the world, Ronnie thinks, running fingers through her son’s fine, soft hair. But there are people who help you fight the monsters, too. Even if the monster is just the stares from other students at school as her stomach grew, the way her friends’ parents stopped letting her come to their houses, the thin-lipped disapproval of the principal handing her a high school diploma as she half-waddled across the stage, refusing to be shamed, engagement ring on her finger. Even if the monster is a world that tries to shove her son into boxes that he can’t fit into, or a teacher who sends him home in tears convinced he’s too stupid to learn anything.

Her jaw sets.

Veronica Higgs has been headstrong since birth, and she’s never made a decision she didn't follow through on. Never turned away from a fight. She’s not about to start now, not when it’s her son.

Ronnie has never turned away from the sweet baby that had looked at her with such dark-eyed seriousness when he was born, the infant who cried for reasons Ronnie couldn't’ fathom, the toddler who screamed that the lights at Target hurt his skin, the little boy who lined up dinosaurs and cars and toy horses in perfect color gradients, the boy who rocks in her arms and hums when he’s happy, the boy she hopes will one day be able to live on his own without her, because…

Because if only Paul and Ronnie are going to fight for him, then they’re going to have to be a fight so fierce that everyone else can’t possibly hold out against them.

The doctors said he might not talk - and he talks a mile-a-minute, about any-fucking-thing that comes into his mind. They said he wouldn’t make friends easily, but he goes on sleepovers with his gymnastics buddies, just went to a party at Chuck E. Cheese with a little preparation so he wasn’t scared of the games and lights and noise when he got there. They said he would struggle in school, and-

Well, he does. But only because of the adults who refuse to understand that Tris learns just fine… if you let him listen in his own way.

“Hey, Tris?” She smiles down at him and he turns those big green eyes up to her. There’s a chapped spot on his lower lip that looks like he might have messed with it until it opened into a sore, and she reminds herself to get some vaseline on it. “You want to stay here with me for a bit? We’ll watch one of your shows, and then back to bed. How’s that sound?”

He smiles at her, and nods a little, still tapping along to her heartbeat. “Oh, oh, okay, Mom. Can, can, can… can-can… can we watch Dino King?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ronnie hates that show, but really - he loves it, and it’s one night, and she could use the way his open, brilliant happiness helps her forget that he’s going to have to work harder and harder to hold onto it as he grows.

She picks up the remote, brings up the menu, switches to a streaming network, and listens to the grating, familiar theme song start to play as her son’s eyes move contentedly to the screen.

He watches the show, but he never takes his head away from her heartbeat.

---

Natalie Yoder has had easier nights than this one, that’s for fucking sure. She leans over the kitchen table, papers spread out in front of her, trying to figure out where they went wrong. This is one of their biggest grants, it’s a bit of funding that she has always relied on, and… denied approval for the upcoming fiscal year.

Thousands of dollars she needs to feed and clothe and house her rescues, gone up in smoke, denied with a bloodless email and no ability to fight back, not for this one. Not this year. It could be a simple error, something she overlooked, sure. Or maybe the association that gives out the grants is suspicious of her story about transitioning homeless people into permanent housing, which really is exactly what she’s doing, isn’t it?

Just… not the kind of homeless people the grant givers are imagining.

She’ll have to call Vince to beg for him to help her fill in the gap, and that will mean time for him to speak with his finance guy and get another couple of shell companies to funnel the money through so it doesn’t go back to him. He’ll give it to her, to be sure - Vince could give her the money to run this place flat out for the rest of his life and still be one of the wealthiest men in America, thanks to his low-key lifestyle and strong work ethic meaning he spends more time filming or producing than he does doing anything else.

Nat knows why Vince doesn’t want to be home, to sit up alone with a bottle or a glass in his hand. She knows his work ethic is simply escaping the demons that will never stop haunting his footsteps, what he traded away for his success, what he lost, what the money and fame can protect him from but can’t remove the stamp of it already written over his soul.

He’s famous, and rich, and Owen Grant can’t touch him now… but the tradeoff of Vince’s survival was that some innocent kid was abducted and turned, through drugs and torture and horrifying assault, into Kauri.

Kauri, who hasn’t answered the phone or sent a text in a week.

Not since that fucking group meeting where Chris was assaulted and Kauri stood up for him. Not since Kauri’s intuition that Kyle had some less-than-savory interest in Chris had proven correct, because… it wasn’t intuition at all.

It was experience.

Nat groans, rubbing her hands over her face, closing her eyes and reminding herself, teeth ground together, to try and stay calm. It’s not unusual for Kauri to disappear for a while, a week or more. It’s not a sign that something is wrong. He was hurt by Nat pushing him, he needs time to think.

He’ll pop right back up again, smiling like nothing happened, like he isn’t giving Nat gray hairs (well, new ones, anyway) trying to tell herself he’ll be okay.

All she can do is trust that he’ll come back when he’s ready.

... and castigate herself for letting that fucking predator get close to Chris without picking up on what he was planning, and for not realizing Kauri wasn’t just being overprotective of a younger rescue, but - in his own way - waving giant red flags that Nat, and Jake, and everyone else just didn’t see.

That, and then losing the grant, have made for one hell of a fucking week.

Nat takes deep breaths. Her hands smell like dish soap and a hint of the roasted garlic she’d put in the soup for supper lingering. The kitchen still smells like the garlic, roasted parsnips and rosemary. Chris had never had parsnips before-

Not that anyone knows if he really hasn’t or not.

“Oh, Nat, you are a mess tonight,” She mutters to herself. “Just full-on moping, huh? That’s how we’re gonna play it?”

Then she hears the soft scrape of a foot on the tile and looks up, blinking, to see Chris in the doorway, leaning against the wood of the frame, the big purple fuzzy blanket she’d gotten him a few weeks back wrapped around his narrow shoulders, the hints of faded muscle that still linger there. Usually he’s draped in Jake’s clothes but tonight he’s only wearing his basketball shorts, no shirt at all.

The rare glimpse of so much of Chris’s skin - she hasn’t seen so much of him since the night he arrived in the pouring rain - tells Nat more than anything else that Chris isn’t okay, either.

“Hey, Chris. What’s up, sweetheart?” Nat glances over at the oven, squinting at the clock, and then groans. “Jesus, it’s nearly 2 am. I lost track of time, I guess.”

Chris doesn’t move from the doorway, not at first. He’s gone quiet again, since the assault, regressing back into periods of stillness and silence that they were so sure he’d gotten past. Jake says he’s testing again, trying to push Jake and Antoni into repeating the patterns that were tortured into his mind as normal, reacting with relief at their rejections - and then testing again, within hours, reminding himself that they’ll never say yes.

Nat looks at him, the shadows under his green eyes, and tries, “Did you have a nightmare?”

He slowly nods, and she watches his hands twist a little into the soft fabric of his blanket, rhythmically twisting to the side and back, nearly invisible with how well he can hide what he does to soothe himself, a skill taught in all the worst ways, learned in a desperate attempt to keep himself sane.

“Hm. I can see that. Was it about the meeting, the other night?”

His eyes dance away from hers, move to the ceiling, and he’s staring upwards at the rough texture up there as he nods, chewing on his lower lip with his top teeth, worrying at a spot that she knows he’ll eventually work to bleeding, sooner or later. He pauses and says, softly, “Kauri… didn’t come find me. That was, was my... my dream. And... it. It hurt.”

His voice, slow drips of speech, hits Nat like a knife to the heart. She nods, slowly, and pushes herself up, chair scraping back across the tile. Chris flinches minutely at the sound, curling a little into himself. “I understand, sweetheart,” She says, softly. “I’m so sorry we didn’t know sooner.”

She thinks, looking at him, of Daniel in the lion’s den, an old Bible story that’s never left her. Daniel trusted God and walked out unscathed, but she’s always thought maybe he wasn’t quite as unscathed as the Bible wants you to think he was.

It’s one thing to have faith that you’ll survive being thrown in with monsters - it’s another to be so inhuman that you don’t wake with nightmares, for months or years after, that you were never saved at all. She is certain, deep down inside of her, that Daniel dreamed of a lion’s teeth and a promise broken, a prayer unheard.

The stories talk about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego in a furnace walking out of the flames untouched, but of course the flames had still touched them. Scars aren’t always written openly on your skin.

Of course they dreamed of flames scorching their skin, curling their hair, smoke stealing breath from their lungs. They, like Daniel, must have woken gasping, certain that their faith had been misplaced, that their trust that someone stood between them and the monsters who would destroy them had been betrayed.

They must have breathed, panting, in the middle of the night, and sworn they could still see the smoke in the air, feel the heat against their skin.

They must have needed to come fully awake to remember - and believe - that they had been rescued. They must have needed the reminder.

Chris has no scars from walking with monsters - all his scars are inside his head. Chris’s scars come in his fear that she will not want him, that no one really wants him, when he can’t fight back or say no or defend himself, when he needs someone else to be his defense, to go to war. They come in his insistent, constant testing of Jake, pushing to see if it’s all been a lie, if they only want to use him the way he has been taught he is made to be used.

“Kauri was smarter than any of the rest of us,” Nat says, feeling suddenly exhausted. “We should have listened. I shouldn’t have had to step in. You deserved better.”

Chris deserves a fucking angel to lead him untouched out of the flames.

All he has is Jake - and Nat.

She fills a saucepan with cold milk while he watches her, his eyes on her back a tangible, palpable weight, and pops a lid on, turning the dial until the flames flicker up from the burner to start heating it to a simmer.

“I’m going to have hot chocolate the old fashioned way,” She announces, pulling down a bag with some discs of melting chocolate in it. They cost too much and mostly nobody notices the difference, but tonight… tonight, she thinks the extra effort is worth it. “You want whipped cream on yours, when it’s done?”

“Yes, please,” He whispers, and she looks over at him with a small smile. His hair is mussed still from sleep, a hint of red on his cheek where he must have had it pressed into a pillow. His freckles stand out in the thin light of the kitchen’s overhead light fixture.

Next door, at Miss Ruth’s, a light turns on, and Nat glances through her own window to see it. Jaden, probably - that kid sleeps about as little as Chris does.

“Well, good, because I’m having some, too.” She pauses, leaning her back against the kitchen counter. There’s a long silence that draws out between them. The milk heats, bubbling just the tiniest bit around the edges in the saucepan, and Nat carefully drops in the chocolate discs to melt whisking until the liquid is a rich brown, thickened, ready for her to pour carefully into two mugs and top with the spray-bottle whipped cream she keeps in the fridge.

Nat sets the mugs down on the kitchen table, pulling Chris a chair up right next to hers. He relaxes a little at the tacit, silent request for closeness, drops into his chair with a slight smile playing over his face. He picks up the mug with both hands and takes a sip, getting whipped cream at the end of his nose, wiping it off with a scrunched-up expression that lifts some of the fatigue that dogs Nat’s muscles in the early-morning hours.

“I know the dreams are scary,” Nat says softly, reaching out to lay a hand on his back. He looks over at her, with those giant green eyes in his narrow face, searching for something in her. Maybe just for certainty that the promises she’s made to him will be kept. “But Kauri did come to help you. And you’re safe here, with us. We’ll always come for you, Chris, no matter what.”

He leans over, with slow inevitability, until the top of his head brushes against her neck, his head just at her collarbone. She lets her arm slide around his shoulders, her hand moving to run fingers slowly through his fine, soft coppery hair. “I, I, I forgot how to say no,” He whispers, and presses his head against her.

“I know, honey. But that’s okay, we get back up and try again, right?” Nat sips her own hot chocolate slowly, and Chris holds his cupped warm in his palms, but even as he keeps taking sips, he doesn’t pull away from her. Eventually, he puts the mug back down on the table and shifts a little, so his ear is just over her heart.

“We, we, we try again,” He whispers. “But, but, but I don’t want to, to, to, I don’t-... want to be, um, to be scared again, to… have someone-”

“I know.” Nat swallows, her throat closing, briefly, but she fights it back and keeps her voice - and her hand through his hair - steady as she speaks. “There are going to be bad people out there, Chris, who want to hurt you. But you’re not alone.”

She thinks again of Daniel, waking from nightmares of gnashing teeth, maybe kicking off blankets and pacing a room, his skin written invisibly with the aftermath of a terror that never punctured skin. She thinks of three men in a fire, dreaming again and again that the fourth never arrived to lead them out of the flames.

She thinks of promises made, and kept. Prayers spoken in desperation, and answered, although so often far too late.

She thinks of the prayers for mercy, in the cold white rooms, that are never heard at all.

She’s tired, but she loves them - all of them, who have passed through her doors and gone on to other places - and she can’t imagine being anything but their army, their defense, the wall they can hide behind to rebuild themselves until they fight on their own.

Not on their own, though, never really on their own.

She may never know what happened to him, to bring him here to her doorstep - but she knows that he doesn’t have to face the monsters, the flames, the danger alone. Not anymore.

“You’re safe here,” She says, gently, and turns her head to rest her chin on top of his head. “You’re safe here, and loved, and there’s nothing we won’t do to make sure you’re safe. Whatever comes at you, sweetheart, we’ve got you. And we’ll fight it for you, every time, until you can fight for yourself.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then he asks, in a whisper, “Do, do, do you you-you promise?”

“Promise, Chris. Cross my heart and hope-”

“Don’t-... don’t say the, the end of it.” His voice weakens. “Please.”

“Sorry, sweetie.” She tightens the arm around his shoulders a little, and feels him snuggle closer in response, a low sigh of relief at the reassurance in the embrace. “Swear on everything. I’ve got you, and Jake has got you, and we’re not gonna disappear. I don’t-... I don’t know if we can always save the day for you, Chris, but I can promise you that we will always try.”

He hums, eyes closing. One of his hands slides over her stomach, and begins - slight, soft, barely-there - to tap.

It takes Nat a few seconds to realize that he is tapping along to the beat of her heart.

---

Tagging: @burtlederp, @finder-of-rings, @endless-whump, @whumpfigure, @slaintetowhump, @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker, @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript, @itallcomesdowntopain

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leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 33

Chapter 33

Series Masterlist

Summary: It’s Fred’s 35th birthday and the start of the season.

Warning: Swearing, drinking, smut

Word Count: 9500

“Mommy when will Daddy be home?” you toddler shrieks running back to you from the front door. The season recently started with a season opener in Philly on Fred’s birthday last night. They are flying back and you are celebrating Fred’s birthday tonight, with a party on Tuesday on their day off. Fred told Oliver he would be back at 11am, and it’s now 11:10 so he is eagerly awaiting his return.

You hear a ding on your phone alerting you to the front gate opening “I think he’s home now” you respond standing up with Liam wrapped in your arm. Oliver squeals and runs down the hall while you pick Noah up, who yawns against you.

“Happy Birthday Daddy!” you hear Oliver scream as soon as the door opens.

As you round the corner you hear his bag hit the hardwood floor while he bends down to catch him “thanks buddy.” Fred rises to his feet and kicks his sneakers to the side walking towards you with Oliver clinging to his neck.

“Hey” he says placing a soft kiss on your lips you faintly taste the coffee on his lips. He adjusts Oliver on his side and grabs Liam from you.

“Daddy there is so many decoarations” Oliver cheers from his hip. Fred pulls away with a smirk and starts down the hall.

“Really lets go see” he says footsteps receeding down the hall. “Woah look at all them” Fred exclaims seeing the streamers and balloons scattered around, gently setting Oliver on the ground.

“I helped” Oliver exclaims grabbing his hand dragging him around the living room to show him everything; his excitement radiating off the walls. “These are my favourite!” he points to two numbered silver balloons “five and three.”

“Right because daddy is how old?” you ask him.

“Thirty-five” he repeats back skipping around the room. You hear Fred grumble something and shake his head, not overly thrilled about the milestone he is reaching. You laugh and sit on the couch waiting for Oliver to finish the tour, although the house isn’t overly decorated, most of them will be put up closer to his party.

“Wow it looks great Ollie” Fred says sitting beside you on the couch, he lays Lucas across his thighs and tickles his stomach eliciting some giggles from him.

“Mommy says we are having a party soon” he says walking over to the couch to play with his Lego.

“Good thing it’s not a surprise party” you say quietly causing Fred to chuckle slightly. He leans over and kisses you on the cheek; you turn your head and place a quick peck on his lips “happy birthday Freddie.” Fred brings his lips back to yours “thanks babe” he mumbles. Noah lets out a small whine and Fred turns his attention to the baby in your arms. He pulls him into his arms bouncing him slightly, your head falling onto his shoulder.

You look down at Noah and Lucas, their bright eyes staring up at you “think there eyes will stay light?” you ask Fred. “Ollie’s were dark from the beginning.”

“Maybe, they will change soon if it does” he responds, wiping some of the drool from Noah’s face. A big yawn falls from your lips, you bring your hand up to cover it but Fred turns to look at you.

“They keep you up last night?” he asks “thought they were sleeping pretty good the last couple weeks.”

“No they slept for 10 hours straight, all of us did. I don’t know why I’m tired” you say through another yawn. “I’ve only been awake for like 5 hours today.”

Fred shifts slightly beside you, and you pull your head away. He pulls Lucas into his other arm and puts Noah resting against his chest, relaxing into the couch.

“Just adjusting to the season, it’s always hard” you explain. Fred turns to look at you giving you a soft smile before turning his gaze to Oliver who is babbling away playing with his Lego. You rest your elbow on the back of the couch and lean your head against it, eyes shifting between your four boys. “It was hard before with one baby, now there are three” you yawn again.

“Go have a nap, can’t fall asleep at my birthday dinner” Fred laughs.

“What if they get hungry, there isn’t any pumped milk” you explain.

“We have formula?” he asks turning towards you and you nod back to him, eyes barely open on his shoulder. Over the last six weeks or so you have been struggling with milk production, which has led to a bit of formula being mixed in to their feedings. “Then we will be fine. Go nap. We’ll have some boy time.”

You laugh lightly and rise to your feet and make your way to your room. You crawl under the duvet and honestly don’t expect yourself to sleep; but after a few minutes your eyes get heavy and fall closed.

“Wow I think I’m wildly underdressed” Fred says walking in to the bathroom. He has on a tight black t-shirt under a long sleeve shirt left unbuttoned with some dark washed jeans. You look at him in the mirror while applying your lip gloss “thought we weren’t going anywhere” he says leaning against the vanity beside you.

“We’re not Kyle is coming here, but I figured it’s your birthday; your 35th birthday so I should dress up” you explain turning to him. His hand comes up and plays with your navy blue fabric. It is a high waisted navy blue strapless jumpsuit, the top is tight fitting but has a layer of fabric than drapes from the top of you breast to your waist.

“I’m not that dressed up” you smile “I mean I’m wearing slippers.” You bring your face closer, your lips hovering centimeters from his; you can smell his cologne and can feel his warm breath against your face.

Fred’s eyes narrow at you, you lean in a bit more “I’m going to go change” he pulls away leaving you to practically fall forward into the emptiness. You groan turning your attention back to the mirror. You try to shake off the encounter, but the damage has been done. Your panties are soaked.

You walk into the dining room and begin the finishing touches on the table, lighting the few candles in the middle. You hear little feet running on the wood floor and bend down to grasp Oliver “oh look at you” you say looking at him. Fred dressed him in some jeans with a white long sleeve shirt with a plaid sweater vest.

“Daddy did my hair like his” he says bringing a hand up to his head.

“I see that, you look very handsome” you see his red hair has been brushed to the side and he even put a little bit of gel in to hold it in place similar to Fred’s. Only difference is where Fred styles the curls out of his, he left Oliver’s falling around his face.

“Mhm” he hums in your arms while you drop him on the floor. You hear some cooing and Fred walks around the corner with the twins. They are each in plain onesies but Lucas’s bib looks like a bowtie and Noah’s makes it look like he is wearing a tie.

“I was going to get them dressed but I figured they would just drool or puke on whatever I put them in, so we opted for stylish bibs instead” he explains and you laugh.

“Well they are still very cute” you smile helping buckle them in to their high chairs. You stand up straight and take in Fred, who substituted his jeans for khaki’s and has on a blue dress shirt. You’re eyes drop to his collarbone where he left the top couple buttons open, exposing the top of his chest. Your mouth waters seeing his chain dangling inches from his muscles that are peeking out.

“I feel like your eyeing me like I’m a piece of meat or something” he says lifting your chin with his thumb. You chuckle lightly, the edges of your lips curling up slightly.

“Oh it smells so good” you moan ignoring his comment. You were going to take Fred out to a restaurant for dinner, but he said he wanted to have a low-key night with the family before the party. While Oliver likely would have been okay in a restaurant you didn’t want to push your luck with the twins so you opted to bring in a chef to cook for you. This way you don’t have to spend hours preparing a meal, that you know wouldn’t taste nearly as good, and the five of you can enjoy time together.

“I don’t smell anything” Fred says rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

“Really?” you say nudging your face against his touch “he was just starting to roast the walnuts for our salad earlier; they smell like they are done.”

“I’ll take your word for it” he says bringing his lips down to yours. His hand cups your cheek and tangles around your hair. He slowly pulls away, his taste lingering on your lips. He steps aside and pulls your chair out, gently pushing you in to the table.

He sits beside you at the top the table, and picks up the napkin. He unravels the fabric, gently running it through his fingers; you become mesmerized watching his fingertips dance along the stitching. You wish it was your skin his fingers were dragging across; you swallow the lump in your throat when his hands dip below the table placing the fabric across his lap.

You are brought from your trance when Kyle walks in setting the salads in front of you “see the walnuts” you point your fork to the bowl.

“Mhm” he says stabbing his fork into the leafy green.

“Oh I forgot to ask about wine” Kyle says popping his head back in the room, holding a bottle of white and red in his hands. He walks closer stopping between you, for you to examine the bottles.

“Umm” you say looking over trying to decide.

“I think I’m fine with just water” Fred says before you can respond.

“Oh…um me too” you respond not wanting to drink alone. Kyle nods and turns around leaving the room “don’t feel like drinking tonight?” you ask bringing your gaze to Fred’s.

“No I’m kind of tired and have a game tomorrow” he explains. “I mean I didn’t have a three hour nap this afternoon” he smirks bringing his water glass to his lips. The two of you dive into casual conversation, while Oliver randomly tells Fred stories from the last two days.

“Ready to sing?” you ask Oliver lighting the last candle on the cake. He jumps down from the barstool and runs into the dining room beginning the song, you laugh and join him.

“Happy birthday dear daddy, happy birthday to you” you set the tray in front of Fred, who pulls Oliver onto his lap. “Want to help blow them out?” he asks and your son immediately blows them out, though it’s not hard given there is only 4 candles.

“This is a nice looking cake, did you make it Ollie?” he asks.

“Yeah daddy! I mixed it, and helped put the icing on and the sprinkles” he muses bringing his finger to the icing and to his mouth. You laugh and sit down beside them, pulling him into your lap.

It’s a small rectangular chocolate cake with chocolate icing; which Oliver claimed is Fred’s favourite but you know it’s actually his. While you have ordered a cake for the party, you and Oliver made one for your dinner tonight. One of your favourite memories from your childhood was making cakes on your parent’s birthdays.

“What about the candles” you ask him.

“It’s buzz lightyear and a firetruck” he exclaims while Fred cuts him a piece.

“You pick them out?” he muses already knowing the answer.

“Yeah!” Oliver says excitedly moving to his seat to eat his piece. He pulls you into his lap your arms wrapped around his neck. He reaches around you bringing a piece of cake from the tray to his lips, his other hand resting gently against your hip.

“Tonight was perfect skat” he murmurs pressing his lips against yours. You can taste the chocolate on his lips and feel his pants tighten under you. You pull away with a devilish grin, placing your hand on his chest and your head on his shoulder. You feel his chest rise and fall while he brings a few bites of cake to your mouth while you look out at your sons.

“Dinner was great babe” Fred says walking into the pantry leaning against the counter.

“Uhh, yeah it was” you say opening scanning over the shelves mindlessly. You just finished cleaning while Fred put Oliver to bed.

“What are you -” he asks.

“Found one” you say reaching behind some boxes to pull out a granola bar that had fallen out. You tear the package open and take a bite turning around “what I’m hungry” you shrug brushing past him.

“So I have one more present for you” you say finishing your bar. “But its upstairs” you gently graze your finger over his hand walking by him. You hear Fred groan while you walk down the hall. You make it to the stairs when you feel Fred’s arms wrap around your waist and he carries you up to your bedroom.

Once at the door Fred gently sets you down pushing the door open. Walking in the room, the lights are off the room being illuminated by flickering candles. Lying on the bed is a white square box with a red bow.

Fred’s lips ghost the skin behind your ear while he walks you forward to the bed “you got me more than enough already” he mumbles.

“Well it’s kind of for both of us” you tease rocking your hips back onto him his warm breath drawing you in. His mouth grazes the skin under your ear gently kissing your soft spot, goosebumps run down your spine.

He walks over to the bed sitting on the edge; you sit beside him while he pulls the box into his lap. He tugs on the bow the fabric falling onto his lap. He pulls the top of the box, throwing it aside to reveal some black tissue paper. He digs through it pulling out three different sets of lingerie, setting them on the bed.

He runs his finger over them and turns his head to you “I couldn’t decide on one” you explain. “Figured since it’s such an important birthday you should pick” your hand falls onto his thigh, inching its way higher.

His eyes scan the fabric lying out on the bed in front of him; he brings his hand to a black set and points “this one.”

“M-kay” you say grabbing it and skipping off to the bathroom. You change into the black teddy with cut-outs on your waist and back. Your stomach covered by a sheer black fabric with intricate floral designs. You adjust yourself in the piece and pull your black satin robe overtop, tie resting loosely on your hip.

You walk into the bedroom, Fred having placed the other options and the box on your dresser. He is sitting on the bed, back against the headboard, legs gently crossed at his ankles. He smiles when he sees you walk in, you crawl onto the bed straddling him.

“I love birthdays” he mumbles pulling you into his hard chest, his hands running down your side to your thighs. You laugh and bring your lips to his, your hands running through his hair. You roll your hips against him, tilting his head back engaging him in a heated kiss.

He yanks on the belt around your waist, your robe opening up to expose your body in the lace. He pulls away his eyes gazing up and down your body. You see his Adams apple pop from his neck, his eyes swimming with desire. “Fuck I love birthdays” he groans tangling his hands into your hair pulling your lips down to his.

After a few minutes Fred pulls away, both of you gasping for air. You bring a thumb to his lips wiping away some of your smeared gloss from him. “I actually got you something” he says reaching down beside the bed.

“That’s not how birthday’s work babe” you tease as a brown paper bag is dropped between both of you.

“It’s for the both of us” he shrugs shifting to sit up straight against the head board. “I didn’t really have time to wrap it though.”

You laugh knowing the only time Fred has a nicely wrapped present is when someone else does it for him. You reach in to the basic bag and feel a rectangular box wrapped in plastic and pull it out. You examine the box in your hand, eyes scanning over the box. A pregnancy test.

“What….uh” you trail off processing what’s in your hand. You run your hand through your hair, scoffing in the process. “What is this? Why did you get me this?”

“Come on babe” he says “it’s pretty obvious.”

“Obvious? What’s obvious” you ask getting slightly agitated. You set the box on his lap and crawl off him crossing your legs. “Are you saying I look pregnant?”

“No. No. Definitely not saying that” he chuckles awkwardly. “Just the way you have been acting” he says.

“Uh-huh” you say shaking your head. “And how have I been acting Fred?”

“Just you have been tired the last few days” he starts.

“Did it ever cross your mind that I’m tired because I have three kids, two of which are only 5 months old” you retort looking a few centimetres beside his face.

“Yes, obviously, but it’s more than that” he says bringing his hand to your thigh. “You are eating more than normal. I mean you had an extra salad after dinner and a granola bar a couple hours after we finished. Last time you were like that was when you were pregnant” he says softly.

“And the time before that was when I was breast feeding Oliver, because breast feeding uses a lot of calories” you say shaking your head. A loud exasperated sigh leaving your lips.

“Babe” he says gripping your hand “I’ve seen you pregnant twice before.”

“Yeah and I have been pregnant twice, I think I would know if I was pregnant again. Wait is this why you didn’t drink at dinner?”

Fred exhales “yeah, if I drank I knew you would, and if you are pregnant”

“I’m NOT pregnant” you cut him off.

“If you are you can’t drink. I figured if I didn’t drink you wouldn’t drink.” Fred shifts to sit closer to you, placing a hand gently on your thigh.

“Maybe I’m wrong, maybe you’re not. But isn’t it better to be safe and take the test” he asks concern carved across his face.

“I’m not taking the test” you cross your arms over your chest. “I’m not taking the test because I’m not pregnant.”

“Did you ever make an appointment for birth control?” he asks pulling you into his chest.

“Yeah” you respond your body stiff against his chest reluctant to lean into his embrace. “It’s next week” you mumble. Fred chuckles slightly, you feel him chuckle slightly against you. “But I’m breast feeding; you can’t get pregnant breast feeding.”

“Babe, have you actually looked into that?” he asks softly.

You turn your head to look up at him “what do you mean? The doctor told me I’m good for six months.”

“Okay well I looked into it, and that is true under some circumstances” he trails off. But there’s a lot of reasons it stops being effective.” He pulls his phone out and unlocks it showing you a website.

“Right here” he says handing it to you. You’re eyes scan over the screen.

“See the second point” he asks

You must fully breastfeed your infant, meaning that the baby receives only breast milk. Also, breastfeeding must be maintained with both day and night feeding, and no long intervals can occur between feedings.

“We give them formula sometimes” he says. Yours hands drop from your chest and you place your hand behind you putting your weight on it.

“Not a lot though, it’s mostly milk” you respond ignoring the advice of medical experts.

“Okay, and what about the last one’ he says brushing your hair behind your shoulder.

You must not have a period.

You sit in silence reading over the last sentence, having had one a few weeks ago. Fred kisses the satin fabric on your shoulder, he reaches out and grabs the test “you should take it babe” he mumbles against you.

You push his body away from yours “I’m not taking the test because I’m not pregnant.”

“Why are you impossible” he groans throwing his head back. Your frustration in the situation results in tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You sniffle silently as a few warm tears falls slowly roll down your cheeks and your throat tightens.

“(Y/N)” Fred whispers moving beside you. He brings his hand up to your face wiping away your tears with the back of his finger.

“No” you shake his hand away from you sniffling back your tears and rise from the bed. You walk into the closet; you hear Fred’s heavy steps behind you stopping against the door frame. You pull your satin robe from your body and hang it back in the closet. Next is the black set which drops in a pile at your feet. You step out of it and walk through the closet toward Fred, he tries to compose himself but you see his eyes rake over your body while he follows your body through the room.

You brush by Fred, his hand reaching out to grasp your wrist stopping you in your tracks. You crash into his hard chest; he wraps his arms around your shoulders holding you close. Instead of melting into his embrace your arms hang stiff at your sides.

“Come on babe” he groans.

“Fred I’m really not in the mood right now” you push off him walking over to your dresser and pulling out some pajama’s. After everything that has transpired you aren’t exactly feeling sexy or in the mood anymore.

“Babe I obviously meant the test” he sighs. “It’s not hard, the next time you go to the bathroom you aim your pee onto the stick” he jokes trying to lighten your mood but you shake your head in response; pulling your tank top over your head.

“I’m not pregnant Fred” you chew walking over to the bed and crawling under the sheets. You roll onto your side, your back facing Fred’s side of the bed. You feel the bed dip and he crawls up behind you still leaving some space.

“Babe why is this so hard” he asks brushing your hair behind your ear.

“Why don’t you trust me?” you whine.

“Babe this isn’t about trust, I obviously trust you” he wraps his arms around you kissing your neck lightly. “It’s just you are showing early signs of being pregnant. All I’m saying is that it’s possible” he pulls you up against his chest wrapping his arm around you.

“No it’s not because I’m breast feeding” you groan “it works as birth control.”

“Yes but we haven’t been 100% with our birth control. Last time we weren’t 100% you got pregnant with Oliver” he chuckles his warm breath on neck.

“Fred stop I’m not pregnant” you huff. You push his hand off you and shift away from him. You put your arm under your pillow, and adjust yourself.

“I’m sorry I upset you, I probably should have brought it up better” he says but your body remains frozen in place. “I just…I didn’t expect it go like this” he whispers. You don’t react but you swear you feel him reach out to touch you before deciding against his judgement. Finally you hear Fred sigh and adjust on his side of the bed; the two of you lie in silence. You’re too frustrated to sleep and Fred to upset and annoyed by your stubbornness.

You feel the bed shift a few times, Fred letting out a few exaggerated sighs; you refuse to move the entire time. He knows you are awake, and you know he wants to talk but he doesn’t know what to say. Your eyes are locked on the clock on the other side of the room, watching while the minutes drag on.

Over two hours go by before you finally hear Fred snoring beside you. You roll onto your back staring into the darkness at your ceiling, finally free from his waiting gaze.

***

You walk downstairs hearing the light chatter from some of the guests who have started to arrive. Walking past the stairs to the basement you hear the shrieking laughter of children and some banging of hockey sticks. You laugh knowing you likely won’t see your son much until you drag him away.

Walking into the living room, Fred is over in the corner talking with a couple of the guys, Kathy and Carlee are at the island pouring drinks. You walk by the guys and Fred’s eyes pop from his face and he almost chokes on his drink. You wait until you pass him to before letting a smirk cross your face knowing your outfit did its job.

You opted to keep it relatively casual with a white button up shirt, the top few buttons purposely left unbuttoned and it’s tucked into your high waisted 3 button denim pants. Your hair and make-up are kept pretty simple and natural with minimal products and nude lips; a grey wool fedora resting gently on your head.

“How do you never look like you’ve had kids?” Carlee scoffs.

You laugh lightly “it’s amazing what the right shirt can do.”

“Nonsense” Fred says placing a quick kiss on your cheek. You shift slightly into his touch “you’re beautiful.” You shake your head slightly and wrap an arm around him. It’s been 5 days since you’re argument, and during those 5 days you and he haven’t had much contact.

You took the boys to the home game which went a lot better than you thought. Oliver took off and spent the entire game with some of the kids his age and the twins while awake were relatively unfussy. While you have put on a front when in the presence of other people; at home has been a different story.

You talk to him about his day and the kids, but otherwise if you try to and talk to Fred he will immediately cut you off asking if you took the test. When you say no, he stops engaging in the conversation. You don’t see the need for the test and Fred believes the later, thus leaving the two of you in a stale mate.

It’s not that you have been enjoying the silence from him, every time you see him laugh with Oliver or smile at the twins it tears on your heart strings. You want nothing more than to see his upper lip curl while he brushes your hair out of your face. For him to crawl in bed after a game and wrap you in his arms, lips ghosting along the skin of your neck. To feel the heat from his 6’4” body on top of yours, your hands running down his back slick with sweat.

Instead he hugged you once after the home opener and here now. All in front of people, all to hide from everyone the current situation you are in. And it’s not that you are in a fight, neither of you are mad at each other. Fred is irritated by your stubbornness and thinks the only way to get through is to do this. But through your stubbornness you aren’t afraid to wait him out.

You are pretty sure if it wasn’t for the beer on his breath he wouldn’t be the first to initiate what appears to be an apology, but you’ll take it. You feel Fred’s hand resting on the small of your back ever so gently. But even as soft his touch is it has you dripping from your core and toes tingling. You release a soft sigh from your throat; it gets caught in your throat breathing in Fred’s cologne. While subtle Fred picks up on your que and shifts slightly closer to you.

“So does 35 feel different?” Carlee asks handing you a drink.

Fred laughs a little bit “You know I didn’t think so until I compare my life to five years ago; when I was 30 I was single with no kids.”

“No grey hairs or permanent bags under your eyes” you joke, Fred nudges you rolling his eyes.

“Anyways when I think of my life from five years ago then it kind of hits me.”

“Well 35 looks good on you” you say. You stand on your tippy toes and Fred gently presses his lips to yours.

Your hand reaches the top of your head tilting the hat slightly to allow him more room. While most of your interactions have been for the benefit of other people, this isn’t. The way he is gently holding you but keeping you safe against his chest, the way his mouth brushes against your lips makes you think maybe you are both ready to put this to rest.

You pull away and he smiles reaches his eyes. You bring your hand to his lips and wipe away the lipstick that has spread onto his. He chuckles and leans in to place another kiss on your lips when there is a loud commotion from a lot of the guys. You hear some loud teasing and laughter and both your heads turn towards the noise when you see Auston and Mitch in playful chirping with some of the Penguins.

“Freddie” Auston calls out walking over to you both, after hugging him he wraps his arms around you.

“You guys made it” you say smiling up at him.

“Yeah, they let us come down early” Auston says, the team is supposed to fly down tomorrow to play Philly.

“How are you doing momma” Mitch asks lifting you off the ground for a big bear hug.

“I’m good” you respond laughing softly.

“Where are the boys?” Auston asks.

“Some of the girls have the twins” Fred says “they are being passed around, probably won’t see much of them.”

“And the little man?” Auston asks twisting the cap off a beer.

“You didn’t hear him in the basement” you chuckle walking away. You make your way through the crowd brushing off some conversations before heading downstairs. You watch as Oliver is in net, two of the younger players shooting against him, you watch Oliver stick his leg out deflecting a shot.

“Woah look at you, almost as good as your dad” you say drawing all the eyes to you.

“There’s a surprise upstairs for you Ollie” you say and his eyes light up. His ministicks clatters on the floor and he runs past you “what is it?” he shouts running up the stairs. You hear his feet tread up the stairs and you follow him, before you reach the top step you hear him scream out “Uncle Auston, Uncle Mitch!”

As you round the corner you see your son holding on to Mitch’s neck, both of them leaning over the snack table. You groan knowing Mitch is only handing him the sugar treats but before you respond a hand grips your wrist pulling you into the pantry.

“Fred” you groan smelling his cologne “he’s just going to give him candy. The last thing our three year needs is a belly full of candy.”

“It’s a party smuk” he tilts your chin to draw your eyes to his “let him have his fun.” You shake your head letting out a displeased groan as Fred sets a cup on the counter and puts his hands on your hips.

“Thank you for all this” he smiles “getting Auston and Mitch here.”

“Yeah I’m glad they could come and” you are cut off when his lips reach yours placing a soft kiss on you. You tilt your head back to allow him more entrance but he pulls away chuckling. “Babe the door is open and there is like 30 people out there” he laughs.

“I know, I just….you haven’t kissed me like this in days” you whine a pout forming.

“Who’s fault is that huh” he says teasingly his lips a centimeter from yours. You shake your head, not willing to take the fault for this, even if you know it was an overreaction.

He picks his drink up and bringing it to his lips taking a sip “this is good babe what’s in it?” he asks.

“What?” you ask “you poured it” you chuckle turning you attention back to the party.

“No elske I grabbed your drink when you went downstairs” he hums in your ear. “Carlee makes a good mojito. I like that she added some raspberries in with the lime. There is something different about it”

“Oh yeah” you respond absentmindedly shaking your head as Auston hands Oliver a cupcake.

“It’s missing something” he whispers pressing his wet lips on your jaw. He gently places a few more kisses on your neck before finding your sweet spot. You giggle feeling his mustache hair tickle your ear as he pulls his lips millimeters from it.

“It’s missing rum babe” he whispers and your head snaps to the side almost hitting his face “why is your drink missing rum skat?”

You swallow and pull your face back to look in his eyes “I…I’m not…I don’t…” you stammer out. He smirks at you teasing his lips in front of his face, he quirks an eyebrow waiting for a response. He steps back leaning against the counter on the other side, arms crossed with a smirk.

“I didn’t take the test” you almost whisper your eyes dropping to the ground. You lean against the counter across from him while he waits for you continue. “But I thought maybe I should” you pause bringing your eyes up to his. At this point he is smiling ear to ear knowing he was right “and Carlee saw the test when she was looking for my hair spray.” You say laughing “so she is making me virgin drinks tonight until I take the test. She said she isn’t leaving until I take it, and she kind of scares me when she gets mad.”

“So you’re taking the test for Carlee” he laughs walking towards you wrapping his arms around you. You melt into his touch moaning as you breathe in his cologne.

“I’m going to do it tonight” you mumble into his chest. His mouth presses into your hair and a deep exhale leaves his chest. “I still don’t think I need it though. You two are just being ridiculous.”

He gently strokes his hand up your back, pulling some of the tension from you. He ignores your comment because he doesn’t care how he got you to this point he is just happy you are going to do it after almost a week. You stand wrapped in his embrace when you hear a loud bang from the kitchen which causes you to jump and separate.

You enter the party and see Mitch picking up a barstool from the ground Auston cleaning up a spill. Oliver comes running past you to Fred who throws him in the air before pulling him into his chest while laughter erupts from him.

“Daddy we do cake now?” he asks.

“You haven’t had enough cupcakes already” he teases wiping the icing off his chin.

“No” he replies.

“You sure?” he asks tickling his side. His laughter erupts filling the room, drowning out some of the scattered conversations and music that is playing. You walk away towards the crowded island wedging yourself between Auston and Mitch.

“You think this would happen?” Mitch asks. “Like three years ago when you were pregnant with Oliver and we all had dinner. Did you even imagine this is where your life would end up?”

“No not at all” you laugh remembering that time in your life. “At that dinner I had no idea what I was going doing with my life, it was terrifying.”

“Well I’m glad it all worked out” Auston says wrapping his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him for a soft side hug. Your arm wraps around his waist and you both watch Fred as he holds Oliver upside down by his feet while he squeals under him.

“Yeah me too” you say softly the edges of your lips curl upwards watching Fred and Oliver.

Three years ago, you had no idea what to expect with your life. You never imagined a life with Fred or friendships with Mitch and Auston. You honestly didn’t think Auston liked you in the beginning, he always seemed skeptical of you. Not that you can really blame him, you gave everyone more than enough reasons to doubt you.

But once Auston opened up to you, you understood why he is one of Fred’s best friends. While you don’t get to see him a lot during the season between their schedules; you always see spend time during the off season with him. That and the constant facetimes are part of the reason he is one of Oliver’s favourite people.

A few hours later everyone has left, the kids are all asleep and Carlee is downstairs trying to sleep off the liquor so she isn’t hungover on her flight tomorrow. You feel Fred come up behind you his hands wrapping around you resting on the counter on either side of you.

“Come to bed” he whispers as you pour some of the cups down the sink. He gently brushes your hair behind your shoulders and uses it to gently kiss your neck.

“The mess babe” you groan seeing scattered half empty cups and plates with food left around the room. “The cleaning lady comes tomorrow, and I gave her a very generous tip 2 weeks ago in preparation for this.”

He hooks his fingers into your belt loop and tries to pull you away from the sink but you push back rinsing out the cups. “Babe” he whines sucking on the back of your neck. You rock your hips back to his groin, when he reaches around you to turn the tap off; you feel his lips smirk against your skin.

You spin around and Fred quickly pushes you against the counter, pulling the collar of your shirt back to expose your neck. Your knuckles grip the counter while he sucks on your collarbone, “Fred” you groan “Carlee could come up” you say between your moans.

“Uh-huh” he hums against your skin, his mustaches tickles your ear as his mouth moves further up your neck unbothered by a possible intrusion.

His mouth is centimetres from your ear when you feel his teeth graze your skin before he bites your neck. “Frederik” you scold playfully pushing him away.

His eyes are dark as he bends down wrapping an arm around your knees and throws you over his shoulder. Your hat falls onto the floor and you shriek as he runs up the stairs two at a time. He kicks the bedroom door shut with the back of his heel and in a few large strides he is at the edge of the bed throwing you onto it.

You rest on your elbows and watch as he pulls his sweater. He undoes his belt and slowly pulls his pants down his body. You’re a bundle of nerves wrecked with anticipation feeling wetness drip from your core. He stands up with just his boxers on; your eyes walk over his body breathing in the curves of his muscles.

The past few days you have only caught glimpses of Fred getting out of the shower or changing a shirt, but it has been too long since you’ve laid eyes on him. Your gaze slowly drops until you see his bulge, straining the fabric of his boxers and your chest noticeably heaves.

Fred grins and reaches out to your ankle pulling you to the edge of the bed. He begins to undo the three large buttons on your pants while you slowly release those on your shirt. You lift your hips and he pulls the denim from your legs while you throw your shirt into a pile on the side.

You hear him mumble some Danish curse words as his eyes wander your body. You have on a matching white lace panty and bra set with floral embroidery. Resting on your waist is a matching delicate garter connected to some sheer white thigh high stockings. “You didn’t get to see me in any of the gifts I bought” you explain rising to rest on your knees.

He pulls your face up pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips while you both fight for dominance. His hands slide down your back, tracing the outline of your thong his fingers gentle run circles around your hole.

You feel his already hard dick twitch on your stomach while he swallows. “You’re gonna kill me one day you know that babe” he groans You press your lips to his, fingers dancing with the hem of his boxers for a brief second before pulling them down his large thighs. His hard member flaps against his stomach, the sound echoing in the room.

You see the precum that has spilt out and lick your lips. Hearing Fred’s breathing become uneasy you bring your tongue to the tip moaning at his flavour. You pull away and lick along the underside Fred’s head falling backwards, eyes fluttering shut.

You hollow your mouth and flatten your tongue, sliding him in. You start slow, each time taking a bit more of him in your mouth until finally your nose touches his pelvis. You thrust your mouth slowly looking up at him through your lashes. His hands gently grip your hair, pulling the few strands from your mouth and away from your face.

You slowly increase your pace gagging slightly while you breathe through your nose. You bring your hands around to his ass and give him a squeeze pulling him onto you. He begins to thrust his hips while your jaw relaxes around him.

He increases his pace when you playfully pinch his ass. He holds your head steady while he takes complete control fucking your face. Curse words fall from his lips, while drool falls from yours. Your tongue swirls around him, and his hips stutter.

You gently begin to massage his balls and it sends him over the edge. He pulls your head onto him when his dick twitches shooting ribbon after ribbon into your throat. Finally he stops and you pull off choking on some of the cum in your mouth, a little dribbling out.

“Sorry” he mumbles walking to the bedside table to grab his water bottle for you. You take a sip and Fred reaches down to grab his boxers and gently wipe the saliva and cum that has spilt down your chin. He takes the bottle from you and sets it back on the night stand before he lies on the bed, head resting on his pillow. He curls his index finger and beckons you towards him.

You rise to your feet and stop beside him “on or off?”

“Underwear off, everything else stays” he says and you smirk. You had an idea this would be his preference so you wore your thong over the garter to allow for easy removal. You step out of them and kick them aside climbing on top of him.

You grind your hips against him and Fred groans recognizing how wet you already are. You lace your hands with his using it as leverage to continue rolling your hips on him. You feel him start to get hard again causing you to smirk when Fred releases your hands. He grips your hips and nudges you closer and you follow until you are hovering above his lips.

His warm breath blows onto your folds, his beard rubbing against your thighs. His hands grip your hips as he pulls you closer licking up your juices that have been building. He moans feeling your wetness tongue grazing arounds your folds, your anticipation having built for the last week.

You gasp loudly when his mouth attaches to your clit, your hand finding the headboard for stability. His tongue swirls around your entrance when he finally pulls you closer slipping inside your walls. Your other hand slides down into his hair tangling into his locks.

His tongue dances inside your walls, sliding in until his nose brushes against your clit. He gently rolls your hips on his face while soft moans slip from your mouth. He finds your sweet spot and gently brushes it with each stroke. He could easily be sending you over the edge but instead is taking his time, relishing in your taste.

His one hand gently begins to caress the back of your thigh while soft whispered curse words are falling from your lips. His hand slowly trails up your ass tracing the hem of the white lace. His pinky strokes around your hole and you shutter above him. You feel Fred smirk below you, as he does this a few more times.

“Freddie” you moan softly feeling your orgasm start to build. As if right on cue he brings his hand down and slips two fingers into your slick heat. Your head falls back when he begins to suck on your clit and thrust his digits deep inside you.

He sucks hard on your clit, grazing it along his teeth. You tremble at the feeling, hips pulling away at the contact. “Stay still” he mumbles, his other hand digging in to the skin of your hips. Your moans turn into whimpers slowly getting louder as he pumps his fingers inside you.

You can feel your walls tightening, and Fred does too twisting his fingers inside you. Your whole body is hot and you can feel a bead of sweat trail down the valley of your breasts. Fred continues pumping his fingers in you and your legs begin to tremble above him.

You are seeing stars; Fred continues his movements to drag your orgasm out, getting lost in your moans. Your walls flutter around him and you spill over his digits while his mouth continues to suck, drawing out your orgasm. Your hands fall onto the bed in front of you, barely able to support yourself as Fred stills under you.

His fingers slip out and find your hips and he gently lifts you just high enough for him to slide out. You feel the bed shift as he crawls up beside you kissing your shoulder. You crane your head and he smiles taking in your wrecked appearance; mascara on your cheeks, sweat mixed in your roots while some saliva and spilt cum has made some of your ends stick together.

You smile taking him in, juices in his beard, a scratch mark on his forehead from you grasping too hard. But your favourite thing besides his boyish smile is that his eyes aren’t blown with lust, they are soft and adoring while he examines the woman he loves.

He watches your chest rise and fall waiting for it to return to normal when he brings his lips to yours. He slowly pulls you onto his lap while you rest on your knees. He pulls you up, so his mouth is in line with your chest. He gently presses his mouth to your chest slowly sucking his way up your neck.

Your head falling to his shoulder as a silent cry expels from your lips “Got you smuk” he mumbles against your collarbone while he slowly pulls you down to his lap.

You feel his hard member poke at your entrance your hands returning to his hair. He slowly coats himself in your juices before slipping inside your sensitive core. You drop down on him a few times, each time he groans when you bottom out.

His hands grip your ass cheeks using them to guide you. Your pace starts slow and just as you are about to increase it, you feel Fred’s finger dance around your hole. You shudder at the feeling, your head falls onto his shoulder when you bite your lower lip.

He slowly slides in two fingers, still soaked from your juices while your body heats up. You continue your slow pace, your teeth digging into Fred’s shoulder. You hear him mumble but you can’t hear over the ringing in your body. Eventually his patience wears thin, his hips snapping as he thrusts into you.

His fingers slowly move around inside you, while his dick quickly pistons in and out. You bring your head up only to place a quick sloppy kiss on his lips. You taste yourself on him, and lean in further swallowing Fred’s groans in your lips. When you finally pull away you both are breathless and gasping for air.

You aren’t going to last much longer. Fred works his fingers at a slower pace than his cock, but the two combined has you a writhing mess. His mouth finds your collarbone as he sucks bringing your release even closer. Strangled moans and curse words fill the room.

“I’m close” you hum against his collarbone.

“Let go baby” he whispers into your hair. “I’m right behind you.”

A few more hard deep thrusts and you come undone around him. Your walls flutter around him, spilling down his hard member and your thighs. You moan loudly while he continues to thrust into you working you through your high. You feel Fred stutter under you giving you a few more thrusts before pulling you down to spill deep inside you.

He coats your walls white muttering Danish in your ear but you are so spent you can’t focus on anything until he finally stills. His hand gently strokes your hair from your face; you see the beads of sweat on his forehead and down his chest.

“I love you” he mumbles gently pressing his lips to your forehead taking in your post orgasm bliss. You smile back in response feeling his lips gently brush against yours.

“I’ve missed you” you murmur breathing still erratic. While you have seen him every day, had silent dinners together and slept a foot from him, you almost have missed him more than when he is on road trips. He chuckles and brings his lips back down to yours cautiously pulling his fingers from your hole.

You wince at the feeling, but Fred quickly grips the back of your thighs carrying you to the bathroom. He takes you directly into the shower setting you on the bench. Shivers run up your spine from the cool tile while he turns on the water. You stand up and walk right into his hard chest, bottom lip shivering from the cool air.

Fred just laughs and pushes you backwards until you are under the warm stream. He runs his hands up and down your arms, his touch along with the water warms you up and you begin to massage some shampoo in your hair. Fred finishes his shower first and helps to rinse the conditioner from your hair. You melt into his touch, letting him gently scratch your scalp.

Once you are both done you stand wrapped in each other’s embrace. You feel his chest release a deep exhale and you turn your head to look at his. The two of you stand there for a few minutes neither of you moving, water rolling down your bodies

You feel the weight in the room shift from playful to serious, your breathing echoing through the shower. “You ready?” you whisper.

“No” he laughs.

“What do you mean no! I thought you wanted this” you reply stunned.

“Babe I’m terrified” he chuckles nervously.

“About having four babies?” you whisper.

“No we can handle four” he responds finger trailing over your spine. “We we’re worried about how stressful three babies would be and we’re killing it so I have no doubts we can handle 4. I’m terrified because last time you were pregnant it was hell for you, you almost died.”

“Because of a car accident” you trail off.

“But before that you were in so much pain, like every part of you. You had extremely high blood pressure; your feet, legs, back and hips were constantly in pain. I felt like I could hurt you just by looking at you. It killed me” he chokes out.

You sigh but don’t say anything knowing how much he struggled watching you, how helpless he felt. Nothing he did was good enough. He felt responsible, even though you both decided to have a baby. It was something you both wanted, it was just harder than you could have imagined.

“We don’t know it will be like that again” you say so quiet it’s almost inaudible. The air around you is cold and filled with tension. You tremble your damp hear sending a chill to your spine.

“We don’t know it won’t“ he says stepping away to grab your towel wrapping it around you.

“Well it’s a good thing the test will be negative, won’t have anything to worry about” you say softly.

“I always worry” he almost whispers before walking away, leaving you alone with your towel draped over your shoulders. Instead of drying yourself you stand still, legs quivering underneath you.

He returns wearing some track pants, running his hands through his wet hair. He laughs seeing you in the same spot he left you in, too chilled to move. He helps you into some pants and pulls one of his t-shirts over his head. It’s one of your favourite t-shirt, having borrowed it from after you gave birth to Oliver.

He had left some laundry in the dryer and gone to hockey. When you went to dry your clothes you found his and started to fold it, when you stumbled across the blue jays t-shirt. You were new to the city, struggling to adjust to life in Pittsburgh and life as a mom and the shirt reminded you of home.

When Fred came home and saw his shirt smothering your tiny frame, one side tucked into your leggings he didn’t say anything just smiling. You washed it and put it back on his bed, later that night you found it tucked in your drawer. Ever since then his shirt became your shirt forever waiting in your drawer.

After taking the test you set it on the counter and wash your hands. Fred sets a timer while you both stand arms wrapped around each other in silence; you can feel his heart beating in his chest. “These five minutes are always the longest” you say softly.

“Feels different than last time with the twins” he says and you laugh.

”Yeah but it reminds me of when I took the test with Oliver” you say tilting your head to look at him. “I was wrecked with nerves. I puked waiting for the results” you laugh.

“What did you do when it was positive?” he asks.

“I took five more” you laugh. “And then I curled up in bed and cried, probably for an hour straight.”

Fred brings his eyes over to yours, scanning over your face. All the things you and him have shared you never told him this. “I still didn’t believe it until my doctor actually told me. Then I set out trying to find you, not remembering many details besides the whiskey and four orgasms.” Fred sighs against you, but his silence says more than any words.

“Fred” you say softly “I love you.”

“I love you too smuk, more than you’ll ever know” you rise on your tippy toes closing the distance. Not the full distance he is 6’4” after all. He tilts his head to bring his lips down to yours, his mustache brushing against your upper lip. Your hands run through his beard tangling in his hair, his hand pressing on the small of your back.

Suddenly the alarm goes off startling you. You swallow and set your feet back on the floor. The two of you take one final minute before walking back over to the vanity, flipping the test over.

Next Chapter

#frederik andersen #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #Freddie Andersen #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic #nhl fic #nhl smut #because two people got drunk #my writing

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rohad93 · 4 years

Text

Werewolf in the hospital

As far as Halloween’s go, this one could have been better for her. It wasn’t often she ended an evening sitting in the ER, dressed as a werewolf, with a broken nose, but she couldn’t say now that it didn’t ever not happen!

The night had started fun enough. She’d been out with Gus and Willow at a party being thrown at one of their college’s many fraternity houses. One that was affectionately referred to as the ‘Illusion coven’ around campus because of its many resident students that were known for their penchant for pranks and being able to disappear without a trace when the heat was turned up in response, as well as a large handful of their students that were also members of the school’s ‘magic appreciation club’.

They of course, always threw the best parties, especially at Halloween.

This one had been no different. The music and lights could be seen from about two blocks away. There was a long line of students waiting to get in the front door, but luckily for her and Willow, Gus was a member, which got them through the door instantly.

The place was jammed packed when they finally arrived and Luz could barely hear herself think over the music that was trying to vibrate her teeth right out of her skull, but that didn’t stop her from making a beeline straight for the dancefloor with her friends in tow for the first hour. Excessive amounts of energy made dancing the perfect activity for her, even if she generally lacked any grace or coordination.

It was weird to finally be at one of these raging school parties after all the ones she had been purposely excluded from in high school.

After four years of being an outcast in high school and spending most Saturday night’s alone, watching anime or writing fanfiction to fill her spare time, she hadn’t expected her social life to really take off in college, though ‘take-off’ might have been a strong word for it. She still only had a handful of friends, but it was still a far cry from how she’d been a loner in high school.

Leaving to go to college out of state had given her an opportunity to start new, though she was still the same old Luz she had been her senior year, there were so many more people at her college with varying interests and backgrounds than her small-town high school where everyone had known each other since grade school and pretty much stuck together from the first grade on.

You release one nest of spiders at nap time and suddenly you’re branded for life as ‘that weird kid’. She didn’t like to admit how much that had really bothered her when she was a kid, but it just became the norm as she got older. It didn’t stop her enjoying life as much as she could, even if she had gotten thrown out of prom her senior year for wearing an otter onesie.

It was still nice to actually have friends now, one’s she could study with in the library or just have lunch with and not blink an eye when she said something totally bizarre, or at least bizarre by most people’s standards.

Meeting Willow, her dorm mate, and then Gus through her, had been a lifesaver and through them, she had met other student’s, some of which she shared classes with, like Viney, who despite being an upperclassman was only now taking her English comp basics so they worked together on group assignments, she was funny and easy to get along with. It didn’t take long for Luz to count her, along with Gus and Willow as her closest friends.

Viney was also dating Emira Blight, one of the infamous Blight twins, who were also members of the ‘Illusion Coven’, so she knew Viney was probably somewhere here among the many bodies packed into the large house, though the chances of running into her were slim.

She wasn’t at all surprised to see the copious amounts of alcohol that was everywhere either, that was one thing about college that TV had gotten right. College students drank; a lot.”

She watched three students doing a keg stand till beer squirted out of the guy on the kegs’ nose.

She snorted, grinning to herself and showing off the mouthful of sharp canines she had spent a good hour in the bathroom getting molded to fit too her teeth. She was, of course, the definition of a broke college student, attending entirely on a full scholarship, cause when you don’t have anyone to hang out with, you might as well study, and it was finally paying off, but she still had little in the way of personal spending money given her measly paycheck from working part-time at ‘The Owl House’ An owl themed diner just off campus owned by the most eccentric woman Luz had ever met, did not make for the most extravagant costume. But she made do with an old red flannel, ripped jeans, and some dollar store pointed ears and face paint. She had splurged a little on the fake teeth, she’d reuse them next year, werewolf was a classic after all.

Despite her less than ideal paycheck, Edalyn Clawthorne, or Eda ‘The Owl Lady’ as she was known around town, was good to her, letting her eat and drink for free or study there when she wasn’t working, and honestly, Luz kind of wanted to be Eda when she grew up. She was self-assured and didn’t care what anyone thought about her, not to mention surprisingly foxy for her age.

“You guys want something to drink?” Gus yelled at her and Willow to be heard over the pounding music and voices.

“Is there anything without an octane rating?” Willow questioned, as she watched an upperclassman drinking something straight out of the bottle at maximum speed.

After all, she and Willow were only nineteen, and Gus seventeen, he was crazy smart and had skipped a couple of grades. Luz had never had much interest in drinking, despite Eda sometimes offering her a drink from her flask with the Owl etched into the side.

She didn’t even know what was in it, only that Eda referred to it as “Mama’s magic Elixir’. She always said no and Eda would shrug and tip it back till it was empty.

“There’s punch, but I’d still be careful. Chances are good it’s already been spiked.” He shrugged.

“No thanks,” Willow shook her head and turned to look at something, the glitter on the wings of her fairy costume catching the bright colored lights overhead. She still hadn’t figured out what Gus was supposed to be. He was wearing a long red tube with a smiley face on it and long sleeves that went down to the ground that he flung about in excitement.

“I might take my chances on those snacks!” Luz shouted, eyeing the array of treats laid out on the table for the taking. She was willing to bet no one had spiked the cake and it looked really good from here. Gus grinned and Willow rolled her eyes, smiling. Anyone who knew Luz for any amount of time knew she had a voracious appetite and an even bigger sweet tooth.

“Yeah, okay, just don’t eat everything.” Gus laughed at her.

“No promises!” She grinned back before moving across the room, trying to slide between the bodies that packed every square inch of the place and get to the refreshment table. People were moving in every direction around her as the music blared and the lights flashed, it was a little disorienting actually, but she had her eyes on the prize.

She had just made it to the table when the crowd surged and sent her careening into someone else standing there, slamming into their back and making them spill their drink.

“Watch it, nitwit! A voice growled at her before stopping. “Oh, hi, Luz.”

Luz blinked, realizing who exactly she had just slammed into, and swallowed thickly.

Amity Blight, who she did not exactly start off on the best foot with when classes had started a few months ago but now had a much more friendly relationship with.

Amity Blight, the smart and talented girl she shared creative writing and literature appreciation with. Amity Blight, who Luz had a teeny, tiny, minuscule... huge, crush on.

Amity Blight, who was dressed prettily as a witch, complete with black and green striped leggings and a pointed black hat and, who she had just slammed into and spilled her drink on.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Amity!” Luz grimaced at the wet spot now in the middle of Amity’s black blouse.

“Oh, it’s okay, really, no big deal!” Amity waved a hand, snatching a napkin off the table and dabbing at the spot.

“You sure? I could go...get you something or…,” she started, unsure.

“NO, no it’s fine, really…,” she insisted and Luz frowned. She must have embarrassed the other girl, her face was tinged red as she wiped at the spot, and was trying not to look Luz in the eyes.

‘Mierda’ Luz cursed under her breath.

Clearly, Amity did not want to talk about the spill anymore, so Luz cleared her throat, drawing the young woman’s gaze.

“What are you doing here? You don’t strike me as the… party type,” she asked and Amity rolled her eyes and Luz’s chest seized up, wondering if she’d insulted her until Amity spoke again.

“I’m not, but my brother and sister are members here and all but forced me to come tonight,” she huffed. “I’d much rather be back in my dorm, studying for our quiz in lit appreciation Monday and not getting a headache from this music.” she frowned and Luz blinked.

“Oh, Mierda! I forgot about the quiz!” Luz slapped her hands to her cheeks and Amity blinked at her before laughing.

“It was written on the board yesterday and the professor sent out an email reminder this morning.”

“Ugh, I didn’t check my email today,” she groaned, squishing her cheeks.

“Well, you still have tomorrow to study,” Amity offered.

“There was so much material to cover though…” Luz groaned. “I’m not gonna sleep all weekend, I’m going to have to cram till I push out every memory of the third grade just to make room for it all.” She frowned, already thinking about all the coffee she was going to have to drink before Monday morning, and on Monday morning.

Amity was biting her lip, thinking, but decided to take the chance.

“You can come study with me. Only if you want that is!” she quickly finished, pushing a stray strand of dyed, half mint, green, half auburn hair behind one of her ears.

“Really?” Luz asked.

“Yeah, I was just about to get out of here anyway, I’ve had enough of the party…” she said, looking around at all the people crowded into the room.

“Yeah, I’d love to!” Luz jumps on the opportunity, cause why wouldn’t she. “Oh, I came with Gus and Willow…” she remembers her friends somewhere in the house.

“Oh…” Amity seems to deflate a little at that. “Maybe another time?”

“No, it’s all good! I’m just gonna go tell them I’m headed out. You, uh, wanna meet outside?” she asks and Amity is smiling at her again and Luz just wants to melt into a puddle on the floor as those amber eyes stare back at her

“Yeah, I’ll wait for you.”

“Great! I’ll be quick,” she promises as she runs back out into the crowd, looking for her friends. It takes her about ten minutes to find them in the living room.

“Hye guys, is it cool with you if I head out?”

“Where are you going?” Willow questions her.

“I ran into Amity, who reminded me we have a quiz in lit appreciation Monday and I really need to study and she offered to study with me, so…” she trails off, seeing the look Willow is giving her. The horticulture student is very aware of Luz’s crush, despite her never really saying anything about it. She does not count gushing to the shorter girl about how smart and pretty Amity is as ‘saying anything about it’.

“Why would you wanna leave a party to study?” Gus makes a face and Willow smirks.

“I think it’s more about who she’s studying with…” she says knowingly and Luz blushes as Gus blinks at her, confused.

“It’s cool, Luz. Go study with Amity.”

Luz does not care for the knowing way Willow says the other woman’s names, with a teasing lilt, but she’s not concerning herself with that for now.

“Thanks, guys, I’ll see you later,” She calls, already running toward the front door.

She doesn’t immediately see Amity, in fact, the yard in front of the house is empty, everyone inside.

Luz frowns, looking around. Did she get tired of waiting?

Her chest aches a little at the thought, shoulders slumping, and is just about to turn around and go back in the house when she hears something that does not match the thumping bass of the music inside, voices. She walks quietly around to the side of the house and peeks around the wall curiously, if college has taught her anything it’s that there are students making out anywhere at any given time and not to look too closely into dark corners where sounds are coming from.

Her eyes widen as she spots Amity right away, her back is pressed against the wall and a guy dressed in a toga is standing in front of her, leaning down over her. He’s not particularly big, but he’s standing uncomfortably close with his hands wrapped around both of her wrists, hands fisted, Amity is scowling angrily up at him. Luz’s brows furrow between her eyes and she frowns, walking over quickly.

“I said let go!” Amity snaps, trying to rip her hands free from his grip and he’s so close she can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Come on, just a little kiss, it’s Halloween…” He leans forward and Amity turns her head away, sneering.

“I don’t care if it’s fucking Christmas!” she snarled. “I said no!”

“Hey!” Luz shouts standing just a few feet away now. “She said no!” she growled, lips pulled back over her fangs.

“Luz!” Amity stares at her wide-eyed.

“This is none of your business bitch, go howl at the moon,” he slurred before turning back to Amity and yanking on one of her hands. She yelps in pain as he jerks her and Luz is moving forward before she even knows it and her fist is connecting with the side of his face.

He goes fumbling backward, releasing Amity as he stumbles to his butt in the grass.

“Santa mierda, eso duele!” she hissed, shaking out her screaming hand.

“Come on!” Amity grabs her other hand and starts to pull her away but then the guy is scrambling to his feet and coming at her with a strangled yell and Luz does the first thing she can think of, she uses their joined hands to yank Amity behind her and then the guy’s fist connects with her face and her world an explosion of pain and crunching noises.

She’s only vaguely aware of Amity screaming her name as her back hits the grass and everything goes black for a second but then she’s quickly pulled back to consciousness by his hand fisted into the front of her shirt and her fight or flight instincts kick in and she’s swinging wildly at his ugly mug as quickly as she can.

Her hands protest every hit that connects with his stone-hard face but she doesn’t stop and he’s swinging back, but she can hardly feel it over the constant pain radiating from her nose through her whole body.

She just clenches her eyes shut and keeps swinging, punching him as hard as she can, but then there are more voices and two large burly guys have him in a stranglehold, pulling him off her.

Amity had dashed back inside to grab the houses ‘bouncers’ standing just inside the door.

“Oh my god, Luz!” Amity holds her hands over her mouth as she kneels onto the ground next to her, looking over her face in horror.

“Ugh…” is all she can manage and then Amity is grabbing her hand and helping to her feet and dragging her across the yard, fumbling, panicked through her purse before finally pulling out her keys. She unlocks the passenger side door of a small black sedan and carefully pushes Luz into the passenger seat.

“Keep your head tilted back,” she says before closing the door and hurrying around to the other side, and jumping in the driver’s seat.

It’s only now that Luz realizes she can taste blood and reaches up to touch her top lip and pulls her hand back to see her fingers covered in the crimson liquid.

‘Well, that’s not good,’ she thinks, but it definitely explains why her face hurts so bad.

She tilts her head back but can feel it dribbling down her chin and neck as Amity pulls away from the curb, much faster than the speed limit, Luz is sure as the tires squeal.

She runs her tongue across her teeth and feels a distinct lack of a point and groans, making Amity glance at her.

“I think I swallowed one of my teeth…,” she mumbles more to herself but Amity’s pained expression turns into a grimace as they speed down the road.

Which was how she found herself sitting next to her crush in the ER with her head tilted back and the front of her once white shirt stained crimson as her nose continues to bleed.

Halloween is apparently a very popular time for injury because it’s crowded and takes two hours for someone to see her, while they wait Amity fills out her paperwork for her.

“Birthday?” she asks glumly, and Luz tells her. She hasn’t said much since they left the party, she looks miserable, and that’s coming from someone who is doing their best impression of a fountain with her nose. She can’t stand that face Amity is making. “Allergies?”

“Lactose intolerant, so no milk IV’s,” she jokes, despite the incredible pain in her face. Amity starts to write but then stops, blinking, before turning to look at her grin.

“How can you joke? You just got beat up… because of me.” she frowns.

“No, I got my block busted because some guy was being a pendejo.” Luz frowns. “It wasn’t your fault, and I wasn’t just going to stand there and let him….do whatever he wanted!” she scowled, throwing up a hand.

Amity is looking at her with an unreadable expression, but before she can say anything they are calling her back.

“Oh goody, my turn.”

It takes forty-five minutes for them to tell her that her nose is broken, which she could have told them when she caught sight of herself in a mirror, a bloody mess and her nose pushed to the side at an odd angle. No wonder Amity had been so panicked and run all those red lights.

Putting it back in place is… not fun, and then the doctor stuffs gauze in her nose and splints the outside, telling her she needs to keep the gauze in for a week and then sends her on her way with a prescription for antibiotics and some mild painkillers.

Amity is waiting for her when she comes out.

“What did he say?” she stands as Luz walks back out into the waiting room and frowns at the splint on her face.

“It’s broke.” she shrugs and Amity grimaces as they walk out back to the parking lot.

“I am so sorry, Luz.” Amity frowned. “If I’d just…”

“Hey,” Luz cut her off, she wasn’t having any of that. “I told you, it’s not your fault, technically, I started that fight… didn’t win it, but I started it,” she laughed to herself.

“You are surprisingly chipper for someone who just got their nose broken…” Amity can’t help but smile a little at the other woman’s cheery disposition.

“It’s not the first time I’ve broken something you know. The first time someone helped me along, but hey! Besides, I helped you, and that’s good enough for me.” She smiled as they stopped next to Amity’s car. Amity has a small smile on her face as she unlocks the car. “I hope this is healed up by thanksgiving or my mom is going to have a cow…,” she mumbled as an afterthought. Amity giggled to herself.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

The drive is mostly quiet until they pull up into the parking lot in front of Luz’s dorm building. Willow is probably already back in their room.

“Do you think this will get me out of the quiz Monday?” Luz wonders aloud as she unbuckles and Amity laughs.

“Doubtful... but…, if you’re up for it, I feel like I should at least treat you to breakfast or something for what you did… we could study after?” she offers.

Luz blinks at her, finally realizing what exactly is going on. She was certain before when Amity had asked her to study that she was just being nice, but the way she looks now, fingers tapping anxiously on the steering wheel and glancing at Luz out of the corner of her eye, she finally catches on and curses how oblivious she is at times.

“Like… a date?” she asks uncertainly and Amity flinches.

‘Y-Yeah.” she jerks her head in a nod and Luz is silent for a few seconds too long it seems. “If you don’t want to…!”

“No! No I do, want to go on a date with you, yes!” Luz nods, too fast, it makes her nose throb.

“Really?” now Amity is turned to look at her, eyes wide, with a hopeful glint.

“Yes, absolutely.” Does she sound too eager? Probably, but she does not care, especially when Amity’s face lights up with that adorable little smile she’s seen on her face once or twice before in class when they talked and now she feels even dumber for not catching on quicker.

They plan for Amity to pick her up here at nine tomorrow morning and then Luz opens the door, but Amity stops her.

“Thank you, Luz… I don’t know what might have happened if you hadn’t shown up...” Amity says finally.

“Amity Blight, I will be your fearless champion anytime you need me too!” she declares, a fist on her chest. The bandages and bloodstains, as well as her nasally stuffed up voice, diminishes the gesture some, but Amity smiles adoringly at her none the less.

She hesitates a second before reaching across the console to lay a hand gently on Luz’s cheek before leaning forward to quickly kiss the other. Luz’s face erupts in red as her heart hammers in her chest.

“My fearless champion,” she agrees, cheeks a bright pink.

Luz’s face erupts in a grin.

Maybe the evening started poorly, but she can’t find it in herself to mind one bit.

#Halloween #Lumity #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Willow park #Gus Porter #fic #toh #the owl house #gay

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lovelivingmydreams · 3 years

Text

A story by heroes and villains

Janus Bullard: Mistakes

Mistakes, big or small, tend to stack up. Does Janus manage to fix theirs before the damage gets too big?

Masterlist

The rest of the year, Virgil was quiet. Distant. Janus realized they’d done the controlling thing again and gave him space. It was hard though. They’d sent texts and get no reply and spent hours wondering if they should text again or if that was pushing too hard. Their comfort was that Virgil still met them at the bus stop and ate lunch with them. That meant he just needed some more time, right? Maybe he was just very focused on finals? They wondered if they should take the first step. Apologize for being harsh… but they didn’t want to push Virgil even more if he was already this upset with them. So time went on, finals came and went and Janus left on the end of year trip once more. They considered staying home, but they didn’t want to explain to their parents what happened last time. And besides, other than the terrible company, they’d had fun on that first trip. They deserved a reward for working so hard for good grades. And maybe some distance for a week was what Virgil needed to be ready to talk. And in the end, Janus was glad they went.

The guy with the gay cousin wasn’t there this year. In his stead there was a boy with a little pride flag hanging from his luggage. He introduced himself as George, specified his pronouns as he/him and confirmed he was gay. He told them all that he understood if they felt uncomfortable getting dressed and stuff with him in the room, so he offered to talk to their chaperones about arranging alternatives to make it so everyone felt at peace. Turns out, Janus wasn’t the only one who’d felt like they’d had to agree with the homophobe of last year. The boys Janus recognized from back then all seemed to be okay with it, though they were all apprehensive to be the first to say something. So Janus decided to be brave. “Hi, Janus. He/him for me. And I don’t care where you sleep,” they told him. They were not comfortable coming out with they/them pronouns. Not to mention the fact that they still wanted Virgil to be the first to know. After they greeted George, the other boys followed. One even revealed they were ace. They joked and teased, but all in good fun. Most of those of last year expressed their relieve and how bad they’d felt about how they acted last year. How afraid they’d all been to speak out. The week was great. They did lots of cool stuff and George was a fun guy. And rather handsome. On the final night they got to sleep under the stars. Janus and George stayed up the latest. Staring up at the stares while sitting at the slowly dying campfire. The chaperones had told them to make sure to douse the fire before going to bed. Janus had found themself talking to George a lot over the week. They had told him about Virgil and their parents and uncle Lo. Complained about Castile… “You’re gay too aren’t you?” he suddenly observed. Janus had been telling him about the concert they’d gone to with Virgil before High school started. “Wh… What makes you say that?” they asked shocked that he’d figured it out. “Well you clearly think your friend and this ‘Castile’ are hot. And I have noticed you checking me out…” suddenly George stopped himself. “Sorry, I get it if you aren’t ready to tell anyone… Blame the sleepy brain.” Janus tensed. Were they that obvious? But as they thought about it they relaxed. They might as well admit it. “I… Want to tell him… Virgil I mean… I’m just…” “Scared of rejection?” George guessed. “No. I mean ,yes a little, but not in the ‘he doesn’t feel the same’ way,” they admitted. George nodded in understanding. “He sounds like a cool guy though. And if he rejects you over who you like. Then you’re probably better off without him in your life anyway.” Janus curled in on themself. “I know he’d accept it… But what if things get weird?” “Then you two figure it out. You’ve known each other since diapers right?” “I guess…” Janus nodded. George scooted closer and gave them a supportive sideways hug. “Then it’s something worth fighting for,” he smiled. Janus looked back at him. He hadn’t been this close to another boy in ages. “Can I…?” they didn’t get a chance to finish. “Oh, absolutely,” George smiled. So Janus took hold of the boy’s face and kissed him. It was nice. A strange sort of relief even. To finally act on attraction instead of trying to repress it. As a bonus, they were Janus right now. So there was no guilt about being deceptive. It was a summer fling. Neither expected anything romantic to come from it. Just two guys making out before never seeing each other again. The next day Janus waved George goodbye at the train station promising to take his advice. They had a plan. When they got off the bus they hurried to Virgil’s house. They needed to see him and apologize for what happened at school. Not just with the electives. But everything. Then they’d stop distancing themselves. Allow for hugs and playful shoves and the likes once more. And then… Then they’d come out.

When the door opened however, they were met with a stranger. It was a kind faced man. Big eyes framed with a pair of glasses took them in curiously, gaze lingering briefly on their marks, before focusing on their eyes. “Oh, hya kiddo,” the man smiled. “You must be looking for Virgil!” Janus felt lost. Who was this? Where was uncle Lo? Or Virgil? The answer to the first question luckily soon joined the stranger in the doorway. Logan noticed Janus and offered them a familiar patient smile as he wrapped an arm around the stranger’s waist. What in the world…? “Janus. It’s been a long time. How are you? Had a good time at camp?” he greeted warmly. Despite the unexpected behavior, the implications of which refused to register in Janus’ mind at the moment, hearing that steady, welcoming voice, felt like coming home. Uncle Lo had a reassuring presence. One that had been missing from Janus’ life for far too long. They smiled up at the older man. “Hi, uncle Lo. I… I guess it has been a while…” Trying not to be too clingy, they had stopped spending time with Virgil at either of their houses at some point. “Um camp was good. I did miss Virgil though…” Their eyes went from studying the friendly stranger to looking past them to the staircase, expecting Virgil to appear any moment, and back to the stranger. Luckily Uncle Lo was quick to make introductions. “Patton, this is Janus. He’s been our neighbor ever since we moved to town. He and Virgil practically grew up as brothers.” Hearing uncle Lo say that made Janus feel a little guilty. They hadn’t been ‘practically a brother’ to Virgil lately. Too cowardly to apologize or to be honest with him. But they were determined to be better. “Janus, may I officially introduce you to my partner, Patton Bonaire?” Uncle Lo continued, giving the man, Patton, a kiss on the lips. Clearly comfortable with the PDA. Patton giggled at the act of affection, and possibly Janus’ shocked reaction. Partner. The kiss… Uncle Lo was in a romantic relationship? Sure the body language had suggested something like that but… They weren’t even nervous about it. Since when? “Logie! Virgil would die of embarrassment if he were here,” Patton scolded Uncle Lo playfully. “Well, good. He’s long overdue for some.” Uncle Lo looking mischievous was not something they expected to find when returning home. Janus was still trying to unpack all of that when uncle Lo spoke again. “Virgil left on a camp of his own this morning. He should be back next Sunday.” What? “Oh… He never mentioned anything about that…” Or this. Why had Virgil hidden all this? Suddenly Janus thought back to the times Virgil had brought up the LGBTQ+ community and they’d gotten defensive. Had he tried to tell them about his dad’s boyfriend all those times? Or at least about his dad’s preferences… A comforting hand on their shoulder pulled them out of their worries. “It was a very last minute decision. We were lucky to fit him in.” Oh, well so… Maybe Virgil hadn’t consciously kept this trip from them then. “Wanna join us for a cup of tea kiddo?” Patton offered all of a sudden. He seemed like a very kind man. Good. Uncle Lo deserved that in their life. And Virgil too, for that matter “I don't want to intrude…” Janus argued. Not sure how long they could talk with uncle Lo without revealing how much they’d grown out of touch with Virgil. They didn’t want to disappoint him. “Nonsense Janus. You are always more than welcome here.” The words were a much needed reminder. Right. Uncle Lo considered them and their parents close to family. He’d always been there with advice and support. They’d had thanksgiving dinner together every year. How had Janus allowed so much time to pass since last they spoke to him? Still they shook their head. They hadn’t seen Patton around the house before now and if Virgil was out, this was likely their first chance to spend some one on one time together. They knew better than to intrude. “I just came by to say hi…” Then something occurred to them. If uncle Lo was gay. And Virgil knew he was with Patton, which seemed to be the case, then he might know... “Can I ask you something kind of personal? “ they asked before they could change their mind. “Of course,” Logan nodded. “Should I go?” Patton added already taking a step back. “No, it's fine…” He might be able to help too. “I just wanted to know… aren't you ever afraid what people say about… you being different?” they asked purposefully moving their hand towards their birthmarks. They didn’t want it to be too obvious. When they came out, they’d realize what this was really about. For now they could think that Janus just meant their appearance. The couple exchanged a glance. Patton spoke first. "Well, there will always be people who judge you. No matter what. I mean, I adore dad jokes and I like wearing pastels and cute onesies on the weekends. I'm sure there are plenty people who judge me for that. But I like it. It makes me happy." ‘But it makes me happy,’ Virgil’s voice echoed through their memory. Oh, they had really messed up. Patton giggled as uncle Lo kissed their temple. “And I love you for that,” their honorary uncle muttered in a gentle and sweet voice they weren’t used to hearing from him. Then he turned his attention back to Janus. "We can't figuratively bend over backwards to fit the norm of the Karens in this world. They don't have to live your life. You do. And denying who you are is no way to live it. Especially when it comes to things you can't help." Uncle Lo was talking so earnest and it made so much sense, as he tended to do. There was one other thing that worried them though. They nodded slowly, trying to play it off as if they were just curious at this point. "But what about the people you want to stay around... I mean, weren't you worried how Virgil would react?" To their surprise this question was met with careless laughter from both men. "Aside from the fact that Virgil has known I'm gay for almost 10 years, he was the one to suggest me and Patton should go out together." Janus’ mind went blank. Virgil… Had set his dad up? Sure Janus remembered Virgil’s tendency to play match maker when they were little. He’d once suggested to set Janus up with one of the girls in their class way back in middle school. An endeavor they now knew was doomed to fail from the start. But this meant that Virgil really was comfortable with it. That he wasn’t just an Ally in theory. He’d already shown he didn’t mind different gender labels… Janus felt their heart race. So all this time… If they’d come out when they’d figured themselves out… They were such an idiot. All this wasted time. The tension the worries. Uncle Logan’s face softened, clearly sensing the inner turmoil in Janus. "Virgil probably didn't want to out me without my permission. And asking your father such a question... it is rather awkward I would say.” That was not what Janus had been thinking about. And he was sure that respecting his father’s privacy was not the only reason Virgil had been hesitant. Janus had their answers now though. And they’d already bothered their uncle and his partner more than enough. They nodded. “Yes, you are probably right… I’ll see him when he gets back then. Have a nice evening,” they bid before heading to his house.

The end of the week came. Janice got dressed in a cute outfit hidden under a long sweater, they planned to take off once they had privacy in Virgil’s room and had properly apologized and explained themself. Then they’d let Virgil see them as Janice and explain the fact that they were aromatic to him. It had to be tonight. Janice’s parents had reminded them they’d travel to Europe for a wedding turned family trip. Janice’s parents had immigrated to America from France before Janus was born. Which meant that they only saw their family in person for special occasions, like their cousin’s wedding. And when they did they made sure to visit and catch up with both sides of the family tree. So Janice had to tell Virgil now, or wait until they were back in august. They really wanted to tell him now. That way their friend would have time to think over their apology and their confession and they could talk more about it when they returned. They saw Virgil arrive and leave with his dad almost immediately. They might be going out to catch up? It was fine. Janice hadn’t expected to talk to Virgil the second he got home anyway. So after dinner that night they went over to the neighbor’s house and rang the bell. “Oh… Janus. What brings you here?” Uncle Logan asked surprised. It was… Odd. He seemed almost tense… Maybe Virgil hadn’t had a good time at camp? They’d ask about it later. “Hi, uncle Lo. I came by to say hi to Virgil. If that’s alright?” they asked carefully. Uncle Lo hesitated. “I’m sorry Janus. But Virgil went straight to his room after dinner. Camp was pretty exhausting apparently.” Janice nodded. They understood. “Oh… Ok. Tell him I wanted to say hi. We’ll be leaving to visit family in France early in the morning. We won’t be back until August. I’ll see him after. Have a good evening,” they told him disappointedly. Of course. Of course after all the missed chances, now that they finally got their act together, the world was conspiring against them. Because even after they got back it seemed like Virgil was always out when they tried to reach him. Janus regularly took out their phone and almost texted him to ask if he could keep a few minutes free for them. But they couldn’t figure out a way to ask that didn’t seem controlling or clingy. When had they forgotten how to ask something like a normal person? Or were they overthinking it?

In the end, the solution to their problem came through an announcement from the school on the last day of summer. Assembly day. They didn’t even read the full announcement. Janus never skipped, but if there was one day they would consider it, it was assembly days. In this case it meant that they could meet Virgil and talk all day if that was what it took. They sent Virgil a text right away. ‘Skipping assembly. Meet me @ <3 swings 9am?’ There, not too forceful, not too clingy. Just one friend asking another to hang out at their favorite spot in the neighborhood. It was called the lovers swings by most people because it was secluded and supposedly romantic. People rarely came there. It was a perfect place to have a private conversation. Virgil didn’t answer, but that usually meant he agreed… Still Janus wondered all day if they should text Virgil to confirm their plans. No. Virgil had read the text. So he’d be there. No need to be pushy when you are going to apologize for just that. The next day they woke up and knew right away, it was a Janice day again. Which meant that once again they had a chance to introduce Virgil to that part of themselves face to face. They did their nails, dressed up cute, hid it with a long sweater and let their hair down. After breakfast they packed their makeup and headed to the swings. Once there they applied it as best they could while looking in a pocket mirror. They were quite happy with the result. They were ready to show Virgil who they were. But Virgil didn’t come.

Eventually they had to accept that Virgil hadn’t replied because he hadn’t planned on coming and probably didn’t want Janice to be difficult about it… That was fair. They probably deserved as much after how they’d acted the past two years. They took out a sponge and make up remover and got rid of the most obvious stuff before heading to school. They might catch Virgil at lunch and get him to listen to the apology at least. The rest could wait for a little longer… But when they arrived at the cafeteria, they spotted Virgil, talking to Castile. Virgil had his back turned towards Janice. Castile on the other hand was in full view. Smiling awkwardly, fidgeting… What was going on? What were they talking about…? They could feel a storm of emotion warring inside them. All trying to get the upper hand. Attraction for the two boys he was looking at, anger, jealousy and fear. They tried to get a hold of them, to push it down. Suddenly they felt something snap, as if something had given out under their weight, but they weren’t falling. They blinked and then the ceiling lamp was on the ground. Virgil and Castile a few feet away from it. What just happened? How… Had… Had they done that somehow? Their eyes took in the figures laying on top of one another. Watched as they got up. They let out a sigh of relief as they saw they seemed unharmed and took off. Before anyone could spot them. Not realizing someone already had. That evening, when they finally calmed down they sent out a text. “Sry bout what happened 2day. Will U B @ schl 2mrw?” There, simple and to the point. They were called down for dinner, which saved them the torture of staring at a screen, waiting for a reply. When they headed back to their room a bit later, they got a text. “M fine thx. C U there.” Janice felt relief flood them. Finally, an end to the radio silence. It made them feel a bit better about tomorrow. Tomorrow they’d tell Virgil everything… Or, they thought back to what happened in the cafeteria… almost everything.

@cirishere @hestianerd1 @moonlightshow00 @naturallyunstablegamer @alias290 @meowthefluffy @frida0043 @angelic-cali @selenechris @theblackveilinreverse

#sanders sides #ts sides #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #tiny bit of background prinxiety #kissing #trans #lgbtq+#hero au #genderfluid #they/them

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