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#and the older pitbull runs past me out the door so i have to go chase her and bring her back
shuadotcom · 3 years
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The One | JJK
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∎ Summary: You and Jungkook decide to bring a dog into your home, but first you have to find the perfect one. ∎ Pairing: Jungkook x Gender Neutral!Reader ∎ Genre: Fluff, slice of life, established relationship, idolverse ∎ Rating: G ∎ Warnings: None ∎ Word Count: 1.9k ∎ A/N: For btsholidaybingo | Bingo Square: Jeon Jungkook
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"Remember, we're only going for one dog."
"But what if a kitten falls in love with me?"
"No."
"Okay, but what if there’s like, two dogs that are bonded? We can’t just separate them, you know."
"Then we won’t get either."
"But what if-”
"I said no, Koo. No to any other possible scenarios you can think of. Do you want to do this or not?" The two of you have a staredown over the top of the car before Jungkook lets out a long, dramatic sigh, and you climb into the car.
You’ve recently taken the next step in your three-year relationship by moving in together. Jimin was unsurprisingly distraught and clung to Jungkook’s legs as he and the rest of the guys moved his things from the dorm. Of course, you had only moved a good ten minutes away from them in the first place.
Now that you’re accustomed to living and existing every night and day around each other, you agreed your home is missing the presence of a fluffy animal. Well, Jungkook has decided rather, and you gave in to his pouting and begging. Since he’s no longer sharing space with Yeontan, he wants a dog of his own around; thus, the decision to bring home a dog was made.
Neither of you has any idea what type of dog you want, but you agree that you’ll go and see which one stands out. According to Jungkook, you don’t pick a dog; a dog picks you. As someone who’s never had any pet other than hamsters, you’re inclined to believe him. As nervous as you are to be a first-time dog owner, the idea of being a cute, domestic couple raising a dog together is exciting.
The ride to the local shelter is only about ten minutes, and Jungkook is throwing his door open and bounding out of the car as soon as he parks. You follow your exuberant boyfriend inside at a much more leisurely pace. It doesn’t surprise you when you walk in and see the first thing he’s doing is leaning towards a cage full of kittens, cooing at them and letting them nip at his fingertips.
"Jungkook..." you say in a warning tone. He turns towards you, looking guilty.
"I just wanted to look!" He pouts. Once you’re at his side and you’ve greeted a few of the kittens yourself, you follow a volunteer to the wing of the shelter where the dogs are.
Jungkook is immediately drawn to a cage of golden retrievers. He leans over, sticking his fingers through the bars, which makes all of the tiny dogs run over to smell and lick him. You smile at him as giggles come out of his mouth. He soon moves on to a large, older looking pitbull and is whispering greetings to it as it pants excitedly. You leave him there to wander around, eyeing all of the cages, and can’t help but feel overwhelmed by all of the dogs around you, attempting to catch your gaze and silently begging you to take them home.
Your eyes continue to scan the signs hanging from the front of each cage, noting all of the breeds and their names.
A shih tzu, a maltese, a poodle, and a-
“Oh, hello, babies!” A cage with five corgi puppies yipping for your attention catches your attention the most.
As you make your way to the cage, the group of dogs notice and clamor over each other, their small noses raised in the air to try and catch a whiff of you. You smile at them and stick your hand near, letting them sniff you. They all have identical brown eyes and the classic corgi golden brown and white fur, which, while they’re cute, none stand out to you.
Pulling your hand back, you dig a bottle of hand sanitizer from your bag, ready to ask Jungkook if he’s made a decision when something in the corner of the corgi cage catches your attention.
Its eyes are what draw you in. Those gorgeous brown eyes are much lighter and wider than the rest of the liter. You hadn't noticed this one earlier, but looking at it now, you see it’s the only one with all-white fur. It’s the quietest puppy, opting to hang towards the back but still flashing you that wide dog smile. It’s excited, with the way it’s small, round body seems to be vibrating. Something in your gut told you this was the one.
"Koo! Jungkook, I found our dog!" Jungkook leaves the pug he’s talking to so he can come over and join you. He looks at the corgis, his eyes immediately finding the pup in question in no time. After inspecting the dog for a few seconds, he nods.
"That’s definitely the one. Stay here, and I'll go tell someone we've made our choice." Jungkook leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead before he leaves. You get close to the cage again, angling your fingers towards the quiet pup, and immediately it wobbles over, squeezing past the others to get to you. Your heart wells as you watch it give you a couple of licks, then lets out a tiny yip.
Jungkook comes back just as quickly as he had left with an older man in a shelter volunteer shirt. He points out the puppy you want, and the man unlocks the cage to reach around the hyper puppies for yours. He puts the puppy in your waiting hands, and you and Jungkook follow him out to the main part of the shelter. As you go, the man explains that your pup is a boy and that he and his siblings were found in a box in a park by someone who brought them in.
Jungkook fills a basket with toys, food, and treats from the on-site pet shop while the fluff ball in your arms watches him go. He stays quiet as Jungkook tries a few collars on him before settling for a bright blue one and claiming it as perfect.
Once everything is paid for and you’re on your way back home, he stands up in your lap and stretches his body out, examining Jungkook's car as he does.
"Please don't pee on the seats, little guy," Jungkook begs him playfully. As if he understands, the dog gives one small bark in response and moves to balance on your thigh so he can look out the window. "We need a name for him, you know."
"I know. Any ideas?"
"Jungkook Junior?"
"We are not calling our dog Jungkook Junior."
"Y/n Junior?" He receives a pointed look in reaction to that suggestion. "Well, what do you think we should name him then?" You look down at the dog in your lap, and he looks back, almost in curiosity.
"Hmm...how do you think Jimin would feel if we named him Mochi?" Upon hearing it, the puppy barks. "Is that a yes? You like the name?" He barks again.
Jungkook lets out a laugh and turns to look at the puppy once the car is parked and you’re back home. "So this is our little Mochi, huh? I think it fits." He reaches over and scratches under the pup's chin, his tongue lolling out and his eyes closing. You and Jungkook share a look similar to one proud parents would share about their successful children.
After all the supplies are carried upstairs to your apartment, you and Jungkook put all of the things away, taking turns keeping a watchful eye on him as Mochi explores and sniffs anything in the apartment he can get to. Jungkook wastes no time in calling everyone over to meet him.
"His name is Mochi?!” is the first thing out of Jimin’s mouth when you introduce him. He looks as if he’s so touched he could burst into tears. As soon as the boys walk in, Mochi is smelling and circling them, vying for attention from them all.
"For a new dog, he’s not very shy," Yoongi says when he sits down on the couch, and Mochi immediately dashes over, begging to be put into his lap.
A coo rings out through the room from everyone as the eight of you watch as he sprawls out on Yoongi’s lap, enjoying the belly rubs he offers him.
The boys spend the rest of the evening playing with the puppy. They talk to him as if he can understand, try and fail to teach him to sit, and unsurprisingly, Hoseok ends up rolling around on the floor with him.
He has his first almost accident during dinner, whining and pacing while everyone is eating, catching the room’s attention.
“He has to pee!” Taehyung warns. Jungkook shoots up from the couch, nearly knocking his pizza over in the process, and quickly opens the patio door, carrying Mochi out to the patch of turf he’d laid out earlier. Quickly after, he trots back inside and plops onto his doggy bed by the couch, eliciting various “awws” from all of you.
After dinner, everyone helps you and Jungkook clean up and play with Mochi a bit more before calling it a night. Before leaving, Hoseok promises he'll be back in the morning to walk his "new best friend." This causes Seokjin to scoff and argue that Mochi was his new best friend and that he'll be back in the morning. Jimin puts his two cents in about how Mochi is obviously his best friend since he’s named after him. Namjoon tries to use the fact that he secretly fed Mochi under the table as a way of winning the debate that they’re best friends, but it only earns him a whack on the arm from you.
Jungkook manages to usher his bickering friends out, telling them whoever gets to your apartment first in the morning could walk the dog. Of course, this will lead to chaos in the morning, but you and Jungkook will worry about it then.
As the two of you make your way down the long hall to your bedroom, you realize Mochi is still sitting at the end of the hallway, looking as if he’s contemplating whether or not to follow along.
Jungkook turns around and tilts his head. "Well, come on then!" The puppy lets out a chipper bark and bounds down the hallway as quick as his small legs allow him. He circles your feet excitedly, then busies himself with observing the new room as you get ready for bed.
When you’re finally snuggled up to Jungkook with the lights off you, take a look at the puppy as he stretches in the middle of the room.
"Can we bring him in the bed? Please?”
"Hmm...I don't know..." Jungkook taps his chin, pretending to think before calling the dog's name. He didn’t expect him to respond, having only had a name for a day, but to his surprise, Mochi barks and runs over to the bed. You watch him attempt to climb and jump onto the king-sized bed until Jungkook leans down and scoops him up. Mochi immediately turns himself in a circle and plops down on the bed between you two. "He's an extremely smart dog," Jungkook murmurs as he lets a yawn slip.
"He is. You know, I think you were right about letting the dog choose us."
"I know. Aren't I always right?" You reach over and swat his shoulder.
"Oh, hush, and go to sleep." He lets out a laugh before leaning over to kiss you.
"Love you, babe."
"Love you, Koo. Love you, Mochi." Right on cue, the dog lets out a loud yawn and snuggles closer to you. You smile and run your fingers through his soft fur before dozing off with your boys.
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ohpedromypedro · 4 years
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To The Future
A/N: This is my first Dave York fic, so I hope you all enjoy it! It does switch between present and past tenses at parts. Mainly I write in present tense, but some of the fic is needed to be in past. Thoughts are in bold italics.
word count: 7.3k+ (oops?)
characters/pairing: Dave York x f!Reader, small appearance by Resnik, minor oc characters created for this fic.
warnings: angst, stalking, hiring/plotting for a murder, the actual murder, swearing, mentions of jealousy, adultery, mentions of failed marriage, mentions of divorce, possessive!Dave, rough smut, blow job (m receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), Daddy kink, etc.
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Hiring a mercenary to get rid of someone for good was never something you thought you’d put at the top of your to do list, but with the man who’s been stalking you for several months now only getting worse, you decide enough is enough.
At first it started off with random bouquets of flowers showing up on your desk at work, noted that it was from a secret admirer. You were flattered at first, thinking it was harmless, but then things started to show up outside your apartment door, and immediately you knew something wasn’t right. Your building was a secure building and somehow this person was getting inside just to leave you gifts which you just threw in the trash anyway. No one except for your family knows where you live, so you knew someone had to be following you. And how right you were. 
Occasionally you’ll go on evening jogs to sweat out the day’s stress, take a few laps around the block where your apartment is located before heading back home to shower and wash it all away. This particular night you decided to take a jog, you weren’t alone. You decided this time to take a jog through the park, switch your routine up a bit, but what you didn’t know was that your stalker was in that very park and when he spotted you, he started to follow you. Closely.
You were unaware at first, completely oblivious to the fact that someone was following behind you. It really didn’t help that you were wearing headphones with music almost at high volume either, so it was partly your fault for not being on high alert, especially knowing you had someone stalking you. After a few minutes of jogging through the park you really started to feel the unease creeping up on you, the hairs at the back of your neck starting to raise. That’s when you stopped and quickly spun around, your eyes searching the area but seeing nobody. You sighed and gave your head a small shake, silently scolding yourself for getting so easily worked up. You decided to turn your music off and just jog in silence for the rest of the way.
When you reached one of the exits of the park, you smiled when you saw an older woman with a doggy stroller standing there idly. She had a look on her face you couldn’t quite read, but when she spoke to you, you realized why she had that exact look on her face.
“I’m...sorry to bother you, but I’ve been walking along the outer edges of the park for a while and...there’s been a man following you pretty much since you started your jog.”
Your face fell and once again you found yourself turning around and looking, your heart rapidly beating in your chest while your eyes scanned the area. You still didn’t see anyone, but you trusted wholeheartedly that this woman was telling you the truth.
“Thank you. I...I had suspicions that I might have a stalker. Guess I was right.” You sighed and shook your head, looking at her with hopeful eyes. “Could… Could you maybe walk me home? It’s just around the corner, but--”
“I would be glad to.” She nodded and motioned for you to the lead the way, which you did. “You should call the authorities once you get home. I’ll be happy to stay and tell them what I saw since I am witness to the young man who was following you.”
“Yeah? That would be very kind of you. Perhaps it’ll be good to report it so it’s on record in case anything else happens.”
The woman nodded and smiled, walking along the semi quiet sidewalk while you led the way toward your apartment. You exchanged names during your walk home and even shared a little bit about yourselves. Turns out Marjorie, the kind woman escorting you home, was widowed and retired from the air force. When you finally reached your apartment, you helped her to carry the dog stroller up the small steps to the front entrance of the building. When you got inside and to your apartment door, you opened it and walked inside, stepping aside to allow her entrance into your cozy abode.
“Make yourself at home. Would you like some tea or coffee?” You smiled, closing the door and locking it before walking into the small kitchen.
“Some chamomile tea would be lovely, darling. Thank you.” She took her small dog out of its stroller and moved to sit down on the love seat in the living room.
“Chamomile tea it is,” you hummed, grabbing a cup and saucer and the box of teabags from the cabinet before setting them on the counter while you got your Keurig machine turned on.
Once the Keurig was ready to brew a nice cup of hot water for the tea, you put the tea bag in the cup and placed it on the small stand, pressing the smallest button and letting the machine brew. While you let the water fill the cup, you decided to use that time to dial the police station on your cell, moving to secretly peek through your kitchen curtains while it rang.
“911, what’s your emergency?” The calm voice of a woman answered.
“Uh hi, I’m just calling to report a stalking,” you chewed your lip, moving away from the window and leaning against the counter.
“You’re the one being stalked?” She asked calmly, already pulling a report up on her computer screen to type out everything you say.
“Yes ma’am. At first it was just little things. Bouquet of flowers being delivered to my office at work almost every day, but then whoever it is started leaving things outside my apartment door and only my family knows which exact apartment I live in, so I’m a little worried.” You sighed, running your fingers through your hair. “And just a few minutes ago while I was out on my nightly jog, I was told by a nice older woman just outside the park that she saw someone following behind me while I took my jog through. She ended up walking me home because I was nervous to walk alone and she offered to wait inside with me while I called you.”
“Okay sweetheart and would you like an officer or two sent out to get some more info regarding the man stalking you?”
“Yes please. I think she did get a good look at him, at least enough to give some sort of description.”
“Okay. I’ll have a car dispatched to your location soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“So what exactly can you tell me about the man you saw, ma’am?” The officer that showed up just a few minutes after you hung up with the operator asked Marjorie who was sitting on your couch sipping her tea.
“Well, he had to be at least mid 30’s, looked like he could be one of those boys who still live in their mother’s basement. Tall, Caucasian, shoulder length blond hair, large square glasses, dressed in a long black trench coat.” She speculated, nodding as she tried to remember every detail of the man that she could. “He definitely looked like your typical creep. Skinny little thing.”
The officer only nodded, scribbling in his notepad as she listed off the details. He finally looked toward you after finishing jotting things down and shoving his notepad in his pocket.
“And for you, Miss Y/N, what would you like if we do find this stalker of yours?”
“I want a restraining order against the creep, that’s what. As a female living all by herself with no one or nothing to protect her, a restraining order is at least the better first option.”
“You got it. I’m gonna send my fellow officer waiting outside to search the premises as well as the park for the described person of interest. In the meantime, I’ll be outside searching the database for men with that description.”
“Thank you, officer.” You smiled, watching as he nodded his head and gave a small tip of his hat before leaving your apartment.
You sat down on the couch with a sigh, smile tugging at your lips when Marjorie’s dog came padding over to you with a wag of her tail, looking up at you with a smile of her own. You brought your hand down to give her a few pats and scratches behind the ear.
“Daisy likes you,” Marjorie smiled, setting her empty cup and saucer down on the coffee table. “Have you considered getting a dog of your own? Perhaps a nice Pitbull or bulldog.”
“Actually,” you laughed softly at that, giving your head a nod. “That’s not a bad idea after all. I’ll have to consider it.”
“You’ll thank me later,” she winked, moving to stand up from the love seat and grabbing the cup and saucer from the table. “I won’t impose for much longer, sweetheart. I think you deserve some rest after all this.”
“Thank you,” you gave her an appreciative smile, standing and following her into the kitchen. “I’m glad you made this process a lot easier for me. I would have had no idea where to even begin with a description of my stalker.” You shook your head and smiled at Marjorie when she walked back over to you after setting the cup and saucer in the sink.
“Of course. Anything to get another creep off the streets.” She mused as she scooped Daisy up from the floor and set her back in her stroller.
“Well, I’m grateful. You live close by?”
“About a five minute walk, sweetheart. I’ll be just fine, if you’re worried.”
“A little bit. I guess my nerves are just a little heightened.” You shrugged, smiling when she put a reassuring hand on your shoulder.
“We’ll be just fine.”
You could only nod, quickly saying your goodbyes to Marjorie and Daisy before letting them out of your apartment. You closed the door once they were down the hall and immediately locked it, leaning against it with an exasperated sigh. You hoped the police could find your stalker and arrest him for being a creep and that a restraining order could be put in place to keep him as far from you as possible. You didn’t think you could put up with this any longer.
Days went by and you still heard nothing, absolutely nothing from the police department regarding your stalker. Not a single follow up call, visit or any info at all for that matter about whether they found out who the guy was. Of course now the situation was only getting worse. There were nights where you swore you could hear someone trying to pick the lock to your apartment door, but since you’re smart, you locked the doorknob, deadbolt, and chain lock. And fortunately for you, it prevented whoever it was from getting in. You weren't entirely safe, though. Not only did this man know where you worked and lived, but he was somehow getting into a secure building. There wasn't a place you could go to hide yourself from him. If anything he’d just find you wherever you went and that’s what scared you most. You didn’t know what this man’s intentions were, for all you knew, they were far from harmless. No stalkers intentions are harmless in the end.
That’s what brings you to your current situation, calling your cousin Resnik who you know is a mercenary now since he was let go from his previous job with the DIA. He told you to call him for emergencies only and you figure having a stalker trying to break into your apartment multiple nights in a row is good enough a reason to call him.
“Y/N? What’s going on?” Your cousin’s voice is monotonous on the other end of the line and you sigh.
“I need a favor.”
“A mercenary one?” He asks.
“Yes.”
“I’m booked.”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Res?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You told me to call you for emergencies and this is one.”
“Again, I have tons of jobs booked.”
“I’m family.”
“I’m aware of that,” he states. “But I really can’t. Not right now, at least.”
“Resnik, I have a fucking creep stalking me. He’s only been getting worse and I don’t know how much longer until he successfully breaks into my damn apartment.” You’re spitting your words at this point, anger boiling over the fact that your own cousin is blowing you off.
“How long has this been going on? The stalking”
“Months.”
“Has the guy actually made contact with you?”
“Clearly he’s trying to since he’s been trying to break into my apartment.”
“Do you feel safe at all?”
“No!” You snap.
“Calm down,” he grumbles. “I’ll send my buddy Dave to deal with this guy for you, okay? Just explain to him everything that’s happened and he’ll figure something out for you.”
“Alright,” you sigh, slumping onto your couch. “I trust whoever you send me.”
“Good. I’ll have him be there within the next day or so, can you handle that?”
“Yeah, yeah. I can handle another day of this fuckwad. Thanks Res.”
You hang up before he even gets the chance to respond, tossing your cell phone onto the coffee table in front of you. You rub your hands down your face and groan to yourself, hoping this Dave guy can actually rid this stalker of yours. For good.
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You’re in the kitchen making yourself a rum and Coke when the buzzer to your apartment goes off. Biting your lip, you shuffle over to the intercom on the wall and press the talk button.
“Yes?”
“Y/N? My name’s Dave York. Resnik sent me.”
“Thank God.” You groan, pushing the button to buzz him into the building and anxiously waiting for him to get to your apartment door.
When the knock finally sounds on the door, you bite your lip and undo the locks, hesitantly pulling it open. Your eyes are met with a middle aged man, probably early to mid forties if you had to guess, and he’s for sure a sight for sore eyes. Dark hair that you wish you could just run your fingers through, deep brown eyes to match which you know he’s been through and seen some shit in his days. When his gaze finally lands on you when your door opens, he straightens his shoulders, taking in every inch of your form as he stands just outside the threshold of your door. He thought his wife was beautiful, but you? You are absolutely stunning and just standing here in front of you is stirring up some adulterous thoughts in his mind.
“Didn’t realize anyone related to Resnik could be so breathtaking.” Dave chuckles softly, smirking at the way your cheeks go red. “You sure you’re related to him?”
“Unfortunately,” you bite your lip and sigh dramatically, stepping aside and motioning for him to come inside. “Please, come in. We’ve got a lot to discuss.”
“Quite right,” he smiles, his eyes doing one more sweep over you before he steps inside.
You’re flushed by the time you close the door and relock all the locks, giving your lip a hard bite from the way his eyes raked over you just moments prior before internally shaking your head and turning around to face him.
“Would you like something to drink, Dave? I was just making myself something when you arrived.” You muse, making your way into the kitchen where you finish pouring your drink.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he hums, letting his eyes linger on you longer than he would anyone else he talks to.
“Bacardi and Coke it is then,” you smile, grabbing another glass and making a drink for Dave.
“A Bacardi girl, huh? At least you’ve got taste.”
“I suppose so,” you smirk, walking over to where he’s standing and handing him the glass. “Enjoy.”
“Thank you,” he winks, taking a quick sip of his drink and letting out a satisfied hum. “Mmmm delicious. Now,” he says softly, placing his free hand at the small of your neck. “Let’s sit so you can tell me all about this stalker of yours, yeah?”
“Of course,” you smile, grabbing your rum and Coke before leading him to the living room to sit on the long couch.
When you sit, Dave sits right beside you, setting his drink on the table just as you do before facing you and giving you his full attention.
“Does your stalker have a name?” He asks, watching while you shake your head.
“Nameless and only kind of faceless?” You question, more to yourself than anything. “The older woman who saw him following me around the park during my jog a couple of nights ago said he’s a tall white male with shoulder length blond hair. He was wearing a black trench coat at the time, but who knows if he wears the thing all the time.”
“And does the description sound familiar to anyone you might know?”
“No,” you sigh. “I barely know anyone around here. I only just moved in a year ago and I’m not exactly the social type when it comes to associating with neighbors. I’m here to live, not make friends.”
“Understandable,” he chuckles, picking up his drink again. That’s when you finally spot the wedding ring on his left hand. What a shame. He takes a sip before setting the glass back down. “So tell me more. How did this whole thing start?”
“Well, at first it was just flowers showing up on my desk at work with a simple note, nothing too extreme, but then whoever the fuck this is started leaving things outside my apartment door. How he’s getting into a secure building in which you need a key or a buzz to get in, I have no idea. But I’m scared, Dave. The past few nights I could hear someone trying to pick the lock on my door to get in. I don’t know what this man’s intentions are, but clearly they aren’t good ones. Maybe in his mind they are, but not mine.”
“Do you think it could be someone living in the building? Perhaps a creepy neighbor trying too hard to get in bed with you?” You laugh at that.
“Honestly I may have considered it, but I’ve seen many of the people who live here, none of them fit the description of my little stalker friend here.” You roll your eyes, picking up your drink and taking a nice long chug. Dave watches with semi raised brows and a smirk.
“So I’m assuming you want the guy gone for good.” He states, watching you closely.
“Please,” you plead as you set your glass back down, your eyes practically begging for it when you look back over at him. Dave smiles at the sweet sound of your begging voice, slowly raising his hand to rest against your cheek while his now intent gaze is set on your pleading one.
“I will gladly rid the planet of this guy for you, Y/N. We’ll just need to figure out how to track him down or lure him out, for that matter.” His thumb grazes your cheek and you can feel your face burning up again, giving your bottom lip a small bite.
Dave notices that and it only spurs him on even more, his eyes tracing over each inch of your beautiful face before finally landing on your lips and lingering there, his thumb brushing along your bottom one. All those adulterous thoughts come swarming through his head once again and though he knows it’s wrong to be wondering what it would look and feel like to have those pretty plump lips of yours wrapped around his cock, with the fact that his wife never goes down on him, he doesn’t really care. He’s only with her still because of his daughters, things haven’t been going quite well for him and Carol for a while. Maybe you’re the change he needs, the thing that will help him out of the marriage he feels so trapped in.
“Dave?” You whisper breathlessly, not even realizing that the both of you have inched even closer to each other, too lost in the burn of his touch and the way his eyes hungrily take you in.
“Y/N...” He murmurs right back, giving his own lips a lick before bringing his eyes back up to meet your gaze.
“I-- You’re-- Fuck it,” you sigh, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him hard, allowing him to pull you onto his lap as he kisses you with as much fervor in return.
His hands rest on your ass so he can pull your hips flush against his own, eliciting a surprised gasp from you when you feel something hard pressing against your clothed core. I really make him that hard? As if he read your mind, he groans.
“Feel how hard you’ve made me? Just thinking about how good those lips would look and feel wrapped around my cock…”
“Dave,” you gasp again, instinctively rocking yourself against his rock hard cock. The action makes him growl and immediately his fingers are digging into your firm ass cheeks.
“Tell me you want this.” He states, his tone stern and bathed in seriousness.
“I want this. I want… I’ll do anything you want me to.”
His whole demeanor changes at that very statement, his hand coming down on your ass for a hard slap before he flips the two of you so that you’re now sitting on the couch in front of him and he’s standing between your legs. A quiet yelp left you at his sudden slap to your ass and when you’re finally staring up at him once he’s settled between your thighs, you give your bottom lip a bite.
“Look at you…so willing to let a struggling married man do whatever he wants to you.” He smirks, brushing his fingers through your hair before wrapping it around his fist and giving your head a tug backward. “Open your mouth.” You do as he says, letting your tongue hang out in the process. “Good girl.” He smirks, dropping his free hand to start undoing his belt.
Your walls clench around nothing at his praising words, eyes trained on the way his hand quickly gets his belt undone along with the zipper of his slacks. You bring your hand up to stop him from going any further, giving your eyelashes a few bats.
“Let me…” You murmur, moving his hand away before bringing yours back up to yank down his pants, freeing his fully erect cock. Your head spins at the sheer size of him. “Oh…” You bite your lip. Hard.
“Mouth,” he gains the attention of your gaze again, fingers tightening in your hair. “Open.”
You do as he tells you, reopening your mouth and letting your tongue hang out once more. He rubs the swollen head of his cock along your tongue and lets out a low, pleased groan at the warm feeling, his lips parting while he slowly pushes his hips forward until his cockhead just barely brushes the back of your throat. Your cheeks are hollowed out around him now, your hands giving his thighs a small squeeze as you swallow around the head of his cock.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his lust blown gaze staring down at your mouth wrapped around his length. “Haven’t felt a mouth this good since before I married my wife.” You hum around him, wondering how in the world his wife doesn’t suck this big delicious cock? “And I was right too…those lips of yours look and feel so damn good wrapped around my cock.”
“Mmmm…” You moan around him, pulling back as you give a hard suck before taking him right back down your throat, purposely gagging around him.
“Goddamn,” he groans, bringing his other hand down to hold your head in place while he starts rocking his cock in and out of your mouth, keeping aim for the back of your throat since clearly you enjoy the thrill of choking and gagging around him. “You like this, don’t you? The feeling of my cock in and down your throat.”
“Mmhmmm…” You moan, your eyes still set on his dark gaze as he fucks your mouth and throat, your hand moving to rub at your clothed cunt for some sort of relief. You can feel how wet you are just from having him in your mouth.
“What’s that sweetheart? Does that poor little cunt need relief? Is having my cock down your throat turning you on?” He growls, basking in the glory of the sight before him, his cock twitching at the feeling of your whimpery moan vibrating through his length.
“Mmm…” You nod your head as best that you can with his cock buried down your throat, your eyes starting to roll toward the back of your head.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck and fill that needy little cunt with my cock?” He smirks, yanking you off his length before pulling you up from the couch by his grip on your hair. When you only answer him with a nod of your head after he pulls you off his cock, he grabs your chin with a growl. “Use your words.”
You open your mouth to speak until you hear the sound of your doorknob being turned and fiddled with, looking toward the door with wide eyes. You look back up at Dave after a moment and he’s only smirking wider, moving his hand from your chin and down between your thighs to palm at your drenched, clothed cunt.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard, your stalker will hear how good I make you feel.” He rasps so low it makes your heart jump in your chest and your cunt clench once more. He feels the way your cunt moves beneath his hand and it only proves to him that you really really want this. “Yeah, he’s going to regret ever stalking you.”
Dave immediately rips your shorts right off of you, the quick sudden action making your eyes go wide. The strength. His hand moves to slap right against your drenched cunt, which makes you moan out and silently thank the gods for deciding to wear a g-string today.
“Fuck, you are a sexy little thing, aren’t you? So wet and ready for me.”
“Daddy, please.” The words slip from your lips before you can correct yourself, immediately flushing when realization dawns on you. The pleased look in Dave’s eyes, though, proves that perhaps maybe your mistake isn’t a mistake at all.
“Tell Daddy what you want, baby.” He hums as he gives your folds a few rubs, earning himself a few small whimpers.
“I want you to...to claim my little cunt so my stalker can hear and know he’ll never have me the way you do…” You whisper for only him to hear, your gaze set on his own.
Dave only groans, pushing you back onto the couch and moving you into a lying position, quickly yanking your g-string off and shoving them into the pocket of his button up shirt. You bite your lip at that, watching as he climbs above you with his knees resting on each side of your hips, his cockhead pressing right at your entrance. You quickly wrap your legs around him, lips parting with a long moan as he slowly pushes forward and lets your walls swallow each thick inch of his length.
“That’s it, baby…moan for Daddy... What a tight little cunt you have, fuck.” He groans, stilling once he’s buried to the hilt inside of you and allowing your tight walls to adjust to him stretching you.
“You’re--” You moan, squeezing around him like a vice. “So fucking big, Daddy.”
“Fuck, no cunt has ever squeezed me this good before.” He drops his head to bury his face against the crook of your neck, slowly pulling his hips backward before pushing right back in hard, earning himself a nice loud moan from you. “You take my cock so well, beautiful girl.”
“Oh Daddy, yes! Fuck me j-just like that.” You moan, rocking yourself against him. Dave growls and immediately sets a quick hard pace, eliciting several elongated moans from you.
“Only Daddy can fuck you this good, huh babygirl? No one could ever fill you the way I do.” He purposely speaks in a tone of voice loud enough for your little secret visitor outside the door to hear. If only you could see the rage and jealousy that takes over in your stalker’s eyes, the way his fists clench at his sides.
“O-Only you, Daddy! Only you!” You cry out the deeper he sends his cock inside of your warm cavity, your legs wrapping tighter around him.
“That’s right. Only,” hard thrust against your cervix. “I,” another hard thrust. “can,” harder thrust with loud cries of pleasure from you. “fuck,” more hard thrusts. “you.” deeper harder thrusts.
“Yes yes yes!” You practically sob out your words, your orgasm quickly building inside of you from how damn good Dave is fucking you. This was definitely not how you expected hiring a mercenary to take out your stalker to turn out, but are you complaining? Hell fucking no. “D-Don’t stop! Oh please don’t stop!”
“Who said I was going to stop?” He smirks, nipping and sucking at the pulse point of your throat while keeping the same pace and force of thrusts. “Are you going to cum, baby?”
“Mmmm yeah!” You cry out, your arms wrapping tight around his middle while your nails claw at his back through his shirt, your head tilting sideways to grant him better access to your sensitive throat. “‘m s-so close.”
“Yeah? Gonna drench every inch of Daddy’s cock?” He rubs circles as fast and hard on your clit as his thrusts into your throbbing cunt, your head flying back with a loud cry of his name at the new feeling.
“Oh yes!” You moan, giving your walls another clench around his cock as your hips now rock against his own to match his pace.
“Fuck, squeeze me just like that baby.” He groans, going right back to nipping and sucking at your throat while continuing to coax you toward your release.
“Please,” you gasp, closing your eyes tight as you try to focus all your attention and energy on his thrusts and rubs to your swollen nub. “Please fill my tight, warm little cunt with your cum.”
“Yeah?” He growls, snapping his hips with even more force now, the two of you moaning loud in unison. “Want me to really claim this cunt?”
“Yes! It’s--” your moans deepen the harder his cock hits at your cervix, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “--yours!”
“Fuck,” he hisses, grabbing you by the throat with the hand not rubbing your clit and moving to kiss you hard, swallowing your cries and moans of pleasure the more relentless his thrusts become. “Cum for me. Now.” He orders and right on cue, you cum hard, your orgasm crashing right into you and making you writhe and tremble beneath him. Your eyes are truly rolled back now from the tightness of his hold on your throat and you’re absolutely loving it. “Fuck me, you are the most beautiful little thing when you come undone for me. Where the fuck were you before I met my wife?” He groans, kissing you hard once more.
His words make your heart leap in your chest again, wondering if he truly means them or if he’s just saying them to help get the both of you off. What’ll happen between the two of you once your stalker is ridden from your life? Will it be as if this night never happened? Will Dave look at you as nothing more than just a one time fuck and that girl he saved from a stalker?
“Y/N,” he groans deeply, snapping you from your thoughts and bringing you back to reality, pleased groan leaving your throat when you realize he’s filling you with his cum.
“Dave,” you gasp against his mouth, clenching harder and harder around him to milk his balls for all the cum in the world, your arms and legs wrapped tighter around him. “Oh yes.”
“That’s it, baby… Take all that cum. Fuck you are such a damn good girl.” He growls, continuing to fuck the both of you through your highs and his cum even deeper inside of you, going right back to kissing and nipping along your throat.
The two of you are panting by the time he finally pulls out of you, your limbs loosening from around him and falling limp to the couch you lay out on. He chuckles at how fucked out you look, but if he’s to look in a mirror at any moment, he’ll see that he himself is just as fucked out looking as you are. Your eyes are closed as the after effects of your orgasm finally pass, only opening them to look up at him when he gives your throat a firm squeeze. You moan at the feeling which only makes him smile.
“Y/N…” He murmurs quietly, moving his hand from around your throat to brush a few stray strands of hair from your face.
“Dave?” You whisper, giving your bottom lip a soft bite.
“After I rid you of your little pest,” he mumbles, obviously referring to your stalker in case he’s still out there listening. He’s not. “If I divorce my wife--”
“Yes.” You cut him off, already knowing what he’s going to ask.
“Really?” He grins, brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheekbone. “You sure you can handle this life?”
“What? Spending it with a mercenary?” You murmur, smiling up at him as he nods. “Would I have had my cousin send you if I couldn’t handle it?”
“True,” he chuckles, kissing you once more. “You truly are what I need to get out of my marriage once and for all. Don’t get me wrong, I love my daughters, but I don’t love Carol. Not anymore, at least. Not for a long time.”
“I’m sorry.” You frown. He only shakes his head, giving you a genuine smile.
“Don’t be. You’re not the reason my marriage is fucked and fallen apart. Her and I are. We just...don’t work out anymore. We’ve built up our issues with each other over the years.”
“Issues that can be fixed through divorce?” You smile.
“Precisely. We’re just...not cut out to be a couple any longer,” he sighs, kissing you once more before carefully climbing off of you and admiring the view of your mixed releases dripping from your fucked hole. “Such a beautiful sight… One I don’t get to see often.”
“Glad I can change that for you, Mister York.”
He smirks at the name, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the side of your knee.
“Now, let’s get cleaned up and get a plan set in stone to off your stalker.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dave asks with a concerned look in his eyes and you give him a reassuring nod.
“I’ll be fine…” You whisper, reaching up to brush your thumb against his cheek. “It’s best to use me as bait, seeing as I’m the target. We’ve got this…”
“Okay,” he nods, pulling you in for a deep kiss before slowly pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours. “I’ll be down the alleyway we discussed hiding out and waiting. You remember which one, yes?”
“Yes,” you smile, nodding your head with reassurance. “Got the whole plan right up here.” You give your head a few light taps with your pointer finger.
“Good. I’ll see you in roughly ten minutes.” He smiles. “Please, be careful and on high alert.”
“I will,” you murmur, pressing a quick, soft peck to his lips. “See you in ten.”
He nods and you let him out of your apartment, waiting at least two minutes before leaving yourself and locking up behind you. Dave figured having you go on your usual jogging route would be the best plan, since there are several dark alleyways along the way that’ll be easy to lure your stalker down. If the guy is so intent on having you, why not follow you down a dark empty alley. If only he knew the outcome.
You start your jog down your street with a quiet hum, only one of your earbuds in while you listen to music so you can keep somewhat of an ear out for anyone around you. It’s only after five minutes that you start to hear and feel someone close behind you. Swallowing your fear, you continue your walk toward your destination and when you finally reach the alleyway where Dave is hiding and waiting for your arrival, you turn down it with a soft sigh of relief, making your way down the dark, damp corridor.
You pass where Dave is hiding and when he sees someone in a long black trench coat following right behind you, his fingers tighten around the handle of his knife, ready to make his move if the guy tries anything on you. He wants to wait at least a minute to see what his intentions are, see if he’s sick enough to lay a finger on you.
You feel a hand grab you by the shoulder and immediately pin you to the stone wall of the building beside you, looking up at the dark eyes of your stalker for the first time. You swallow hard, fighting back the urge to scream since you know Dave is right there waiting for the right moment to attack. The man is definitely exactly how Marjorie described, right on the nose, really.
“Can I help you?” You finally gain the courage to ask, a bit of disgust in your tone as you look up at him. He’s too close in your personal bubble for your liking and you swear you can smell the garlic and Camel cigarettes on his breath. “Do you always push random women against walls in dark alleys?”
“I’ve been waiting for this day for so long…” He breathes, kind of a wheezy breath, clearly ignoring your question. His hand moves to gently touch your cheek and immediately you turn your face away from him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You don’t need to deny me, Y/N...not anymore.” His other and slides along your inner thigh and you quickly slap at his hand.
“Don’t touch me.” You growl, looking back up at him with a death glare. “I don’t belong to you. I’m not your property.”
“Yes you are,” he smiles a creepy smile at you, his hand going right to grabbing your clothed core a little too roughly.
“Hey! I said don’t--”
Your words are cut off as Dave comes and yanks the guy away from you, one of his hands holding a rag and moving it to cover the guy’s mouth to muffle any screams he may make while his other hand repeatedly jabs his knife into the guy’s side and chest. You watch as his eyes widen with every stab of the knife into his torso, part of you enjoying the sight of his pain and the muffled sound of his screams. Is this too much? Killing a man for being a creep? Perhaps not too much because you already know that if you don’t kill him, there’s a possibility he’ll go and find someone else to stalk and potentially harm after Dave takes you away from this entire situation. You’re looking forward to it, really, being free from this city and it’s creeps and you’re happy to be ridding it of one.
“Sorry to say, bud, but you made the wrong life choices.” Dave growls in your stalker’s ear, giving one more hard stab into the guy’s stomach before slicing sideways to gut him, letting his body fall to the ground with a hard thud. “No one touches my girl like that.”
“Oh, Dave…” You whisper, looking from the lifeless body of your once was stalker to your new lover’s slowly diminishing murderous gaze, giving him a smile and earning yourself one right back. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, beautiful girl.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Good afternoon, miss Y/N,” the soft, sad tone of your now previous landlord’s voice meets your ears as you exit the apartment building, giving her a small frown.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Patterson. Is everything okay?” You ask her, adjusting the last box of your things from your apartment beneath your arm.
“Oh no, honey, unfortunately I can’t say it is.” She sighs, shaking her head with a lost gaze. “I lost someone close to me a few weeks ago…it still aches my heart just thinking about it. My poor nephew was mugged and left for dead in an alley a few blocks from here. I told that boy not to go messing around with the people around here since he was wired a little differently and could easily trigger the wrong group of people… I suppose I was right.”
Your blood runs cold at her words, everything now all making sense in your head about how this guy was getting into your building. Instead of saying anything at all relating to her nephew’s death you only shake your head and frown, giving her your condolences either way.
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Mrs. Patterson. I guess some people around here just can’t handle a little difference.”
“Unfortunately so,” she nods, looking up at you with a sad smile. “You take care though, okay sweetheart? And good luck on that new job opportunity you got. If you ever need anything once you get moved into your new place, don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson. You take care yourself.” you smile, giving her a small hug before walking over to where Dave is parked with his trunk open and giving Mrs. Patterson a small wave goodbye, placing the box in the back of his SUV and closing the back door. You quickly climb into the passenger seat and close the door behind you, turning to look at Dave with a tight, nervous smile. “Get us the fuck out of here and I’ll explain everything on the way.”
“Okay?” He chuckles, putting the vehicle in gear before pulling away from the sidewalk and starting your several hour drive far away from here. Once you’re far from your previous apartment building you breathe out a relieved sigh, turning and looking at Dave with wide eyes.
“That woman, my previous landlord...is the aunt of my now dead stalker.”
“Get out. For real?” He asks, glancing over at you with raised brows.
“Yeah. She told me how her nephew was found mugged and murdered in an alley a few blocks away…”
“That explains how he was getting into the building and even found you to start stalking you.”
“It all makes sense now, yeah.” You sigh, reaching over to rest your hand on top of his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you again for everything. I truly don’t know where I’d be without your and your help…”
“How many times do I gotta tell you, baby, you don’t need to thank me anymore,” he chuckles, bringing your hand up to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Now that my divorce is final, I’m excited to start a new life with you...a safer and more happy life.”
“Me too, Dave. Me too,” you whisper, leaning over to press a quick, firm kiss to his cheek. “To the future.”
“To the future,” he grins.
Everything taglist: @halefirewarrior​ @takemepedropascal​ @wildcard566​ @readsalot73​ @talesfromtheguild​ @msmona​ @oberynispunk​ @whiskeyxinxaxteacup​ @pedrosdoll​ @ah-callie​
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stenbrozier · 4 years
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Clingy (Adult!Stanley Uris x Reader)
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Plot: The Urises have always been known as the “snuggly couple” among their friends, especially as they got older. Stanley and (Y/N) are going to meet the Losers for lunch, and Stanley wants nothing more then to hold his wife and show her off the whole time.
Warnings: mentions of trying to have a kid, canon!Reddie
A/N: I was dropping anons about how lovely Stanley Uris was and how cuddly he was and now I’m here....writing a story about this dumb bitch with curly hair
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Stanley moans slightly in his sleep, turning over in your arms to lay his head against your chest, his arms securing tight around your waist. He left a soft kiss right underneath the left side of your collarbone and smiled against it. You brought your hands up to run through his hair, the soft curls tickling your neck as you messed with them.
Your legs were tangled together between the grey sheets, one of your legs slotted in between his with the other slung over his hip. The sunlight from your bedroom window peeled through the blinds, making lines of light and dark drape over the big, dark red comforter that you and your husband were snuggled underneath. His hands tapped the small of your back, his nails rubbing lightly up and down before squeezing your ass and causing you to jump. He looked up at you, kissing along your jaw as he worked his way up to put his forehead against yours, and you giggled as he pressed little kisses to your nose.
“Baby, we should get ready,” you whispered softly, peeking at the alarm clock next to your bed. “We need to meet them for our weekly lunch date in a couple of hours.” Stanley groaned, squeezing you tight for a few seconds before pulling away and stretching out his arms and his legs. You sat up first, scooting to the edge of the bed to get ready to get up and get dressed. Your foot felt something soft underneath you, and you looked down to see you and Stan’s pitbull, Blue, sitting curled up in on herself. Stanley got off of the other side of the bed, coming around to pick up Blue and snuggle her, the 60 pound dog wagging its tail as she enjoyed the attention she was being given so early in the morning.
“Move, bub,” you chuckled, as he held Blue closer to his chest and leant down and gave you a kiss. “Can you go make some coffee?” You put on your best puppy dog eyes and he complied, heading out your bedroom door with the dog still wrapped in his arm. You grabbed clothes out of your drawers, pulling out a pair of shorts and one of Stanley’s shirts. You threw them on, brushing your hair down and going into the bathroom to brush your teeth and wash your face. After you did that, you went down the stairs and heard Stan laughing.
“Fuck off, Rich,” he said midlaugh, a huge smile on his face as he saw you standing in the doorway. “I-I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you at 1.” He hung up the phone and sat it on the counter, grabbing the mugs off of it and dragging you down to the kitchen table. He sat down first, grabbing your waist loosely and dragging you into his lap. You smiled as he nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving little kisses as you took a sip of your coffee.
“Clingy, clingy,” you teased as he laughed, his hands fisting the shirt you wore.
“This is mine,” he mentioned matter-of-factly. You nodded, taking another sip of your coffee and setting the mug down before standing up and walking to give Blue her breakfast.
“Who’s house are we having lunch at this week,” you asked your husband, getting down on your knees to pull out the bag of dog food from underneath the counter. You poured some in her bowl, kissing her forehead when she ran over to eat it. When you put it back, you stood up only to have arms get wrapped around your waist.
“I believe we’re going to Ben and Bev’s,” he whispered, taking in a deep breath as he rubbed your stomach with his thumbs. “I guess I have to go start to get ready.” Stanley kiss your neck, pulling back and walking away, up the steps and into the bedroom. You sat at the table and finished up your coffee, heating the shower turning on. You showered at night and he showered in the morning, so there was never any conflict in the mornings when you both had work.
You washed your coffee mug out in the sink, going back up into your bedroom to grab your phone and the book you were reading. When you walked in, Stan was clad in a pair of jeans, drying his hair with the towel. He turned around and smiled at you when you made a big show of checking him out. You went to your bedside table and grabbed your things, standing on your tippy toes and kissing him on the cheek. You waited for him to finish getting ready, leaning against the doorframe and going through your texts. Stanley’s arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against him as he walked with you down the steps. You both sat on the couch, and you leaned against him, taking your book and reading to him until it was time to go visit the Losers
———————
Ben swung the door open, engulfing you in a hug as Stanley laughed lightly, placing a hand on the small of your back to squeeze by you. You and Ben had been best friends while growing up, and it was no secret that you gravitated to him. Everyone thought you and him were going to end up together, and the group was pleasantly surprised when you and Stan announced that you guys were dating in your senior year. Ben kissed your forehead and pulled away, leading you inside and shutting the door.
“How’s the whole ‘trying to get pregnant thing’ going?” Ben asked in a hushed voice. You shrugged your shoulders, following him into his dining room.
“Nothing yet, but we’re hoping that I miss my period,” you replied back, giving him a soft smile as he kissed your forehead again.
“Holy shit!! Two Urises,” Richie yelled, breaking away from Stan to come and wrap you up in a tight hug.
He’d been away for the past few months on tour, so he hadn’t been able to come to try weekly luncheons. You pulled away from him, patting his chest and going to say ‘hi’ to all of your either childhood friends and their spouses. Bev wrapped you up in her arms, whispering in your ear the same question Ben had asked you. You shook your head as you pulled away, going back to where your husband was now sitting at the table. Stan immediately grabbed your hand, peppering it with kisses and you smirked.
“God, I was gone for two minutes,” you teased, causing his cheeks to dust a raspberry pink. “Can’t keep your hands off of me, can you?” You noticed that you had caught the attention of Bill, who smiled at the two of you smiling at each other and looking deep into the other’s eyes.
“C-can you guys not be cute for one minute?” he asked with a fake disgusted look on his face. “You’re even wearing his c-college tee.”
Now it was your turn to blush red, eyes casting down to yours and Stan’s intertwined hands. The rest of the Losers laughed at your embarrassment before Eddie finally spoke up.
“They’re more clingy than they were in high school,” he mentions, twisting his nose up in disgust. You throw him the middle finger.
“At least I’ve been in a loving relationship for twenty years and wasn’t afraid to admit feelings.” Richie laughs at this, looking over at Eddie and nudging his side before kissing his cheek.
You leaned over and kissed your husband’s cheek, the attention shifting from you both to how Mike’s month long stint in Florida had been. Stanley removed his hand from yours, wrapping that arm around your shoulder and taking his other hand to softly stroke the hand which he had let go of. You looked over at him, snuggling into his chest. Maybe you guys were too clingy, but you’d rather have him touch you constantly than not at all.
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OPEN WOUNDS.
Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes x Reader
Anon asked: how about an imagine in which you an ez fight because of emily
Chapter index
Chapter two
Word count: 1.1k
Thanks to my lovely beta reader @chibsytelford 💘
Warnings: maybe painful, not sorry.
Author comments: I hope you all enjoy. Gif credits: @angels-reyes.
Tag list: @starrynite7114 ​ @chibsytelford ​ @dazzledamazon ​ @mara-mpou ​ @sammskellington ​ @gemini0410 ​ @1-800-imagines ​ @briana-mishell24 ​ 💥 (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)
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It's been three weeks since you decided to leave your work and your house. Taza became overprotective with you, offering to live with him and work in the ranch, taking care of the animals. You feel somewhat better since then. The crew got closer to you and Angel visits you almost every day. You know by Bishop that Che hit EZ for what he did to you, even if the oldest doesn't want to talk about it, the times you asked. Angel also went to talk with Miguel Galindo to tell him what was going on with his wife. The relationship between the cartel and the club has not been compromised, but somethings has changed.
Ezekiel called you hundreds of times every day during the first week, till his father reprimanded him for what he did. His last text said “I'll wait for you all my life”. And you, stupid, read it all the time trying to believe him.
┅┅ ┅ ┅ ┅┅
The black horse stands on two legs neighing, somewhat nervous because of the incessant and continuous roar of motorbikes coming closer. Pulling the reins to your chest, he starts to run towards the ranch through the woods by a side of it. Then, you see them. The whole crew is driving to it, parking their bikes next to the front door of the house. The whole crew. A whinny calls their attention, turning to you whilst the horse walks slow stopping some meters away. There's no gesture on your face, not being capable of looking at EZ taking off his helmet.
“You managed to tame it”. Taza laughs proud, walking towards you to caress the nose of the animal. “Someone left him a few days ago, and (Y/N) found him”.
“Amazing”. Riz says amazed with parted lips.
“Look, ahm... We need to meet here, but if yo—”.
“It's okay, Che. It's your house”. You nod cutting his whisper. “I'll be around, feeding the donkeys and hanging out with this big guy”.
Your smile is fake, so fake that the whole Cali could see it without doubting. He sighs nodding, rubbing his eyes with two fingers. And without a word shaking the reins, the horse turns over his steps to pass them away with your gaze in the middle of nowhere. Even so, you can see and sense how Angel pushes EZ to stop looking at you with the intention to say something.
Only when you're far enough, and the men came into the house, you let your tears fall down through your cheeks. You thought it couldn't be this painful see him again, but you were obviously wrong. The horse touches your head, making you laugh slightly, cleaning the tears with the back of your hands. All those animals had helped you to feel better, and you couldn't be more grateful.
Walking by a side of the horse, you come back home after some long minutes, giving him some apples and also the one he doesn't let you eat. The motorbikes still in front of the main red door, passing it away to continue to the stables. But a whistle claims for your attention. Turning, you find Angel going next to you with a lit cigar on his left hand. He doesn't look happy.
“What's up, mama?” Putting an arm on your shoulders, to put you closer, he leaves a kiss on your cheek. You shrug. “You know I would never talk in defense of my lil' and shitty brother, but... he really needs talk to you”.
You sigh closing your eyes for a while.
“Yea', yea', I know. And I'm truly sorre'. But he was living with me fo' the past weeks, and he's not okay. You either. And again, he has no defense. But I think it's time you two should talk and let him explain himself”.
“Angel, I—”.
“Listen him. Then, do whateva' you wanna do, please”.
You nod after some seconds thinking about it.
“I'll be at the stables, I have to brush him”. You finally say pursing your lips, before turning again to continue your steps with the animal by your side.
You know it's not a good idea, as it wasn't dating EZ. But you were weak, 'cause you were practically alone, now you're not. Taza has become an overprotective pitbull, always covering your back. He also has taught you to love yourself a little more. So, even if talk with Ezekiel might not be a good a idea, you know well you're not gonna fall again. But maybe it's going to make you feel somewhat better.
Your hand tour gently the black side stand with the moistened brush, shaking it after every long move to get rid of excess water, sinking it into the bucket to start again. Some steps walking next to you over the old wooden floor, have your attention even if you don't turn at him. EZ supports his back against the stable gates with both hands placed on the lapels of the vest. He's waiting till you finish with the horse, letting him go outside with the others.
“The rebels kidnapped her son and she asked me for help”. Listen his voice again gives you chills, crossing your arms over your chest. You're not impressed or even distressed.
“What she expected when she married a boss' Cartel, uh? Rainbows of cocaine in the world of Oz?” You ask raising an eyebrow, standing in front of him. And you can swear he's about to laugh. “Emily has her husband and his ‘world’, that's what she chose. When you're the wife of someone like Miguel Galindo, that shit happens. And I'm sorry, but I don't give a fuck what is goin' on with her life. I don't care about her, her son, or whatever around her. But I did with you”.
“Yes, I shouldn't have picked up the phone, but I did and there's nothen' I can do to change the past”. Ez nods for a second, licking his lower lip putting his gaze away. “But I'm here”.
“So, what? You think that 'cause you're here I'm gonna jump into you or something like tha'?”
“No, I wasn' expecting that. I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry, (Y/N)”.
“Well, you already did”.
“Let me make it up to you... Please”.
“Ask Taza”. You say then, raising your chin slightly. If the older isn't good with the idea, you're not gonna fuck up things with him after all he's doing for you.
158 notes · View notes
joannie95 · 4 years
Text
Epiphany
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: This is my submission for @avengerscompound writing challenge. The prompt I chose was Epiphany which is a moment of sudden revelation.
A/N: Thank you to @itsanerdlife for being my guide to anything and everything pitbull. this is a bucky fic but if I’m being honest Frankie is the star of the show. And thank you to @mo320 for proof reading
Warnings: Talk about past abuse towards an animal 
You were taking a walk in the park with your blue nosed pitbull Frankie and getting the occasional side eye you have grown accustomed to. On the outside all anyone saw was a vision creature who should have been put down but on the inside he was your precious chunky monkey who got a second chance in life who would never hurt a fly.
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He was starting to get a little antsy so you tighten your grip on his leash. One second he was walking next to you and the next he took a running start and you lost your grip on his leash. You started shouting and running after him. In the distance you saw him on top of a very large man licking his face. That was the thing about Frankie, he's a gentle giant but he's more than capable of knocking a large man down on his ass. As you got closer you saw a wrapper on the ground and crumbs all over Frankie's face.
"Francis Michael Y/L/N!" That got his attention and he quickly sat back. "What on earth are you doing, get off him now." You ran the rest of the way and helped the man up. "I am so sorry I don't know what got into him." You started to brush off the grass off his back and arms but stopped when you felt him stiffen. 
"I'm so sorry." You slightly lowered your head and nudged your dog. "Frankie apologize." He followed your lead and lowered his head. You looked up when you heard a chuckle.
"It's alright doll, no harm done. Although I can't say the same for my bagel." He looks down to point out the wrapper on the floor. 
"Please let me buy you a new one." 
"There's no need." He gives you a small smirk.
"It's the least I can do." You grab Frankie's leash and stick your hand out to introduce yourself. "I'm Y/N and this trouble maker here is Francis Michael or Frankie for short." 
He takes your hand and introduces himself as well. "My name is Bucky, it's good to meet you." He lowers himself and introduces himself to Frankie. "It's good to meet you too Frankie." He sticks his hand out and Frankie immediately places his paw on top of it. "Well aren't you a good boy." He looks up when he hears you chuckle.
"Only occasionally, he's a vicious beast the rest of the time." You're looking past Bucky when you say it, glaring at an older woman who was looking at your dog with disgust.
The three of you start to walk on your way to replace Bucky's bagel. When he asks what that was about. "Nothing really just putting someone in their place. Frankie here always gets judgmental looks, his breed doesn't have the best reputation." 
"I can relate." He clenches his gloved hand when he speaks. "He's just a dog though, I can't imagine someone judging him." 
"He doesn't have the best past but he's worked hard to get where he is." You look down and smile at him.
"How so?" He curiously questions you.
You get a little emotional when you start to think about his past. "Frankie was a shelter dog who was rescued from a dog fighting ring, he was found chained up and abandoned. So malnourished you could see his ribs, he was too weak to move so he let people take him back to a shelter. He was able to recover from his injuries but he does have PTSD, he doesn't like new people and that's the main reason he didn't get adopted for a while. I went by the shelter one day and when I saw him I knew we were meant to be family. He still seemed so scared so I constantly returned to see him and little by little he started to warm up to me until he was ready to go to his forever home." You looked down and smiled at him. "He's still wary of new people especially people like the woman you saw earlier who try to tell him he's a bad boy even though in his heart he knows he's not, he's just misunderstood."
"Wow, he's got quite a past doesn't he." Bucky scratches behind Frankie's ear.
"He does, his past will always be a part of him but it doesn't define who he is." 
You don't notice the look Bucky gives you, one of pure love.
Ever since that day you and Bucky have become close friends, but more importantly he and Frankie have become close friends. You've found out all about his life and you think their similarities with their PTSD and how people perceive them have helped them bond. Frankie likes to hide behind Bucky whenever he's in trouble.
One day you found a chewed up shoe underneath your bed and almost lost it. "Francis Michael you get your butt over here!" You walk out to your living room and see him hiding his head under Bucky's arm. You hold up your shoe for him to see. "Young man, what is this. That's it no treat for you, dogs who chew up shoes get no treats."
"Oh come on doll I'm sure he didn't mean it." He leans in closer to Frankie as you walk away. "Don't worry bud I'll make sure to sneak you a couple treats." 
"James Buchanan Barnes stop enabling him." You shout from the next room.
Bucky just laughs and cuddles up to Frankie.
You were going on a late afternoon walk with Frankie, it had been a busy day so you hadn't had a chance until now. You were trying to rush home and beat the rain, it always made Frankie very uneasy and thunder always sent him in a panic. You were halfway home when you heard a crack in the distance and whimpering right after. "Oh crap, come on buddy let's hurry home." Before you knew it you saw a flash of lightning in the sky as it started to pour. You tried to tighten your grip on the leash but Frankie started to tug and flail, the second your grip loosened he ran.
"Frankie!" You started to frantically run after him trying to catch up. The rain was falling so hard you were starting to lose sight of him. After a few minutes you started to slow down to catch your breath. You looked around and started to panic completely, you couldn't see him anywhere. "No no no no no, this can't be happening. Frankie! Frankie where are you!" Your chest was starting to tighten and you felt tears sting your eyes, you pulled out your phone and called the only person you could think of. "Buck, I lost him. I lost Frankie. We were in the park and it started to rain, he got scared and he ran off. I don't know where he is, I don't know what to do. What do I do?"
"Hey listen to me ok, just breathe. I'll be there soon. Don't worry we'll find him." He hung up the phone and you stood underneath a tree. 
The rain died down a little but it was still falling hard. You're not sure how much time passed, you flinched when you felt a hand touch your shoulder. As soon as you saw it was Bucky you started to cry and he pulled you into a hug.
"It's going to be okay I promise. I need you to go home and I'll find him."
You tried to fight him on it. That was your baby out there, he was lost and scared and you needed to make sure he was safe. 
"You're freezing and you could get sick so I need you to go home and I'll stay and find him ok." He gave you a look of concern.
You simply nodded. "Thank you Bucky."
"Of course, what are friends for?" You missed the look of pain when he said friends. He hailed you a cab and you went home. 
The whole way there you were worried, what if he was in danger or hurt and crying out for help. Once you made it home you showered and changed into warm clothes as you waited for Bucky's call. You tried to distract yourself as you waited. You thought back to your and Bucky's friendship. He's always been there for you when you needed him. Thru small things like a bad day at work, or a bad breakup. And larger problems like Frankie's mental and physical health. You would always thank him for being an amazing friend and he would always respond by tucking your hair behind your ear and saying "anything for you doll." His hand would always linger but you never thought much about it. He's done so much and has never asked for anything in return, such an amazing friend. 
It suddenly hits you, everything has been right in front of you this whole time and you've never realized it. 
There's a knock on your door and you rush to open it. Standing in front of you is Bucky holding Frankie against his chest both soaked from head to toe. He walks in and sets him down and you immediately pull Frankie into a hug.
"Frankie I missed you so much, do you know how scared I was." You never wanted to let go. Once you did you stood up and pulled Bucky into a hug. "Thank you. Not just for this but for everything. You've always been there for me when I needed you." You pulled back and looked up at him.
He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Anything for you doll." 
It was now or never. You placed both hands on his cheeks and gave him the opportunity to pull away if he chose to. When he didn't you pulled him in for a kiss, after a second you felt a hand go on your cheek and the other go around your neck. You both pulled away when you needed to breathe. You looked at each other and smiled. 
Tags:
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breanime · 4 years
Text
Decisions
Here’s my first bingo attempt for @banditthewriter! Thanks for this event! I love you!
*gif not mine*
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Very rarely did Billy Russo feel like he was out of his depth. He had always been confident; from the time he was a smartass kid mouthing off to the biggest kid on the playground to his time in the Marines all the way to his role as CEO. He always knew what to say or do, and how to handle tough situations. It was a virtue he prided himself on: knowing what to do and doing it.
But now he wasn’t so sure. He was doubting himself, questioning his decision and wondering if it was too late to take it back.
“Are you still brooding?” You asked, walking into Billy’s home office with a dirty towel on your shoulder. “It’s been an hour.”
“I’m not brooding,” he said broodily as he brooded by the window, hands behind his back as he stared off into the backyard. His tense stance relaxed a bit when he felt your arms wrap around him from behind, giving him a soft hug. He sighed. “Do you think I was too harsh?”
You clicked your tongue from behind him. “We’ve talked about this, Billy…”
“I know,” he turned and took your hand in his, dark eyes staring into yours, “But I feel… I don’t…”
“You did the right thing,” you assured him, “The punishment fit the crime.”
“Did it though?” He asked, dropping your hands and walking over to his desk. He looked at his favorite picture, proudly displayed amongst the files and papers: a photo of him with his arm around you, and your two kids smiling as they held hands. Your son was so happy. He’d just hit the winning ball in his little league game, and he was still wearing his uniform. Your daughter was almost as proud of her brother as you and Billy were of your son; she’d nearly screamed herself hoarse cheering for her brother. Billy picked the picture up and sighed again. “Maybe I should go in there again…”
“She doesn’t want to talk to you,” you reminded him—as if he needed to be reminded. Billy made a face, and you sighed. “She’s just upset, she’ll be fine…”
He nodded, but he still felt shitty. He’d just caught your daughter coloring on the kitchen walls; she was five, and she knew better. So he’d made her clean it up and then grounded her, sending her to her room and telling her she couldn’t watch any TV for the rest of the week…It was Friday, so the rest of the week was just the weekend, but still… His little princess had been so hurt when he’d grounded her. Billy had used his stern Anvil voice—he never yelled at his kids, or you, but the Anvil voice was pretty serious. She’d made that face, the downturned corners of her lips quivering as her wide eyes—Billy’s eyes—watered with tears, and her little hands balled into fists at her sides as she tried not to cry. When he had said “now go to your room”, she’d run so quickly, as if she didn’t even want to be in the same room as her Dad. She slammed her bedroom door when she’d gotten to her room, and when Billy went in there to scold her, he found her face down on her bed, crying her little eyes out on her pillow. His heart had broken. He’d tried to soothe her, sitting at the edge of her bed and reaching for her tiny foot, but she recoiled from him—and Billy, 134 confirmed kills Marine Scout Sniper, CEO of his own private security firm, nearly broke down in tears. His baby girl, his sweet little princess, had cried out: “Leave me alone, Daddy!” and shuffled closer to the wall and further away from him.
And now he wasn’t sure he was doing this whole fatherhood thing right.
Sensing his unhappiness, you walked over to him once more, engulfing him in another hug. “She’s five,” you went on, “She’s just acting out, she’ll be fine.”
“You didn’t see her face,” he wrapped his arms around you, glad to have you with him, “She was so sad. I shouldn’t have been so rough on her.”
“You weren’t,” you assured him, “She did something wrong, she knew better, and she got in trouble. She’s upset now, but she’ll get over it. I promise.”
“When?” He asked, trying not to whine.
“Hm… Probably about around the time this one comes out,” you said with a grin, taking Billy’s hand and placing it over your round belly.
That drew a smile out of him. This last pregnancy had been a welcomed surprise, and the kids were so excited to have a new baby in the family. He leaned down and kissed you, soft and slow, and he grinned when he heard you moan into his lips. Pregnant you was perpetually horny. “Don’t think I can wait that long… I’m gonna give it another try,” he said, kissing your forehead when you pouted as he left your embrace.
“Well, at least consult the expert first,” you suggested.
He nodded. That was a good call. Billy knew just where to find the person your daughter trusted most.
Your son was underneath the kitchen table with his stuffed dog Mr. Mean Face, a G.I Joe, three Barbies named Auntie Karen, Mrs. Curtis’ girlfriend, and Samanthica, and your black cat named Pitbull having a tea party. He was wearing his new tutu, a fluffy yellow one Frank bought him, and had a pair of toy nunchucks draped around his shoulders. He didn’t look up from pouring his tea (air) into Auntie Karen’s cup as Billy crawled under the table to join him.
“Hi, Daddy. Would you like some tea?” He asked.
Billy smiled at his sweet boy. “Sure, bud. Thank you.” He accepted the tiny cup from his son and pretended to drink, to which his son nodded; pleased.
“Is Sissy still grounded?” He asked casually.
Billy swallowed. “Um… Yeah?”
His son turned to him, dark eyes the exact same as Billy’s—exactly as deep and disconcerting. It always scared and fascinated Billy that his children had his eyes; it was insane seeing his own eyes in their little faces, insane to be on the other end of that deep gaze. “Mommy says you have to stand by your call,” he said, voice still effortlessly casual, “If you say Sissy is grounded, she has to be grounded.”
“Oh, is that what Mommy said?” Billy deadpanned. He could feel your presence somewhere in the kitchen, obviously eavesdropping.
“Sissy is very very sad,” he went on, dabbing Mr. Mean Face’s face with the corner of his tutu, cleaning a pretend spill, “You used your Mad Voice on her.”
Billy cringed. “Yeah… I know…”
“But she did a bad thing,” he reasoned, shrugging one shoulder, “But she’s not a bad kid, is she, Daddy?”
“No, of course not.”
“Uncle Frankie says sometimes good people do bad things. He said he did bad things,” your son glanced over at Billy again, and his eyes looked so much older than his young age, “He said you did some bad things, too. But you’re good. Mommy wouldn’t marry a bad guy. She wouldn’t let a bad guy be our Daddy.”
“No,” Billy swallowed, feeling the emotions well up in him, “no, she wouldn’t.”
“And when you did bad things, you got in trouble, didn’t you Daddy?” He picked up Mr. Mean Face and put him in his lap, still staring over at his dad.
Billy nodded, thinking of dark interrogation rooms and broken bones. “Yeah,” he answered, “I did.”
“And when I do bad things—even if it was on accident, I get in trouble,” your son patted Mr. Mean Face on the head, “’Member when I wouldn’t share at school and I had to go to the Sit And Think Corner?” Billy nodded. “That was mean of me. Nice kids share. And after that, I didn’t not share anymore, did I, Daddy?”
“No, you’ve been a great sharer since then,” Billy smiled, “You’re such a good example for Sissy.”
“And the baby,” your son grinned proudly, “I’m gonna be the bestest big brother in the whole wild world.”
Billy laughed. He’d thought he’d gotten ridiculously lucky when he met you, but now he knew he was extremely lucky not only to have you as his wife, but these amazing, wonderful angels as his kids. His baby Russos. “Yeah you are, bud,” he agreed easily.
“Sissy isn’t mad at you,” he said, cutting to the core of the issue easily, “She’s sad.”
Billy’s smile fell off of his face. “Why is she sad?”
“She’s sad cause she made you dis…disappointed,” he said, tripping over the word a bit, “Now she thinks you’re not gonna love her anymore, and you’re gonna love the new baby more.” He took a sip of his pretend tea. “She told me she thinks the stork is gonna bring a girl, and then you and Mommy won’t need her anymore.” He rolled his eyes, popping his pinkie out as he pressed his cup to his lips. “Sometimes Sissy can be such a baby…”
“Sounds like maybe Daddy should have a talk with Sissy,” you chimed in, bending down to smile at your two boys, “Let her know that we would never try to replace her.”
Billy clicked his tongue and scrambled to his feet, helping you stand up straight and admonishing you gently. “Be careful, baby,” he said softly, kissing the side of your face as you rolled your eyes. He bent down and smiled at his son. “Thanks for the advice, son.”
“I don’t know what that means, but you’re welcome, Daddy!” He said back cheerfully.
Billy laughed, standing up again and kissing your cheek as he walked past you towards your daughter’s room. The door was closed, but he couldn’t hear her crying anymore, so he assumed that was a good thing. He knocked on the door before opening it, and he saw her on the floor in front of her bed, chubby cheeks still wet with tears as she hugged the pink teddy bear Billy had won her at a carnival last year.
“Can I sit down?” He asked, gesturing to the empty space in front of her.
She shrugged, burying her face into the bear’s fur.
Billy sat down, crossing his legs in front of him. He felt the familiar sense of surety within him, that patented Billy Russo confidence that let him know he was making the right choice as he looked at his baby girl. “You know your mother and I love you, don’t you, princess?”
Another shrug.
“C’mon… You know that, right? Mommy and I love you so much, we love you more than air.”
She peeked out at him, face still hidden behind the bear.
Billy smiled. “We love you more than water. We love you more than food.”
“All food?” She asked, voice coming out in a soft whisper.
“All food,” he agreed, “Even spaghetti and pizza.”
She smiled—and Billy’s heart nearly floated out of his chest. “And ice cream?”
“Even ice cream,” he leaned in a little, “and you know how much Mommy loves ice cream.”
She giggled, trying to hide her adorable little smile behind her teddy bear. “You love me more than ice cream?” She asked again, astonished.
“Uh huh,” he answered, nodding, “We love you more than everything else in the world. We love you, and your brother, and the baby so, so much. And you know,” he lowered his voice, and she leaned in to hear him better, “That ain’t never gonna change. No matter what happens, no matter what mistakes you make—like drawing on the wall…” he watched her duck her head guiltily. “…Mommy and I will always love you, baby girl, just like we love your brother. And you know what else?”
“What?” She asked, eyes wide.
“The new baby is gonna love you, too. And no one could ever replace you, you know that right?”
She held the bear harder. “Even if the baby is another little girl? You won’t love her more than me?”
“No,” he said, “I won’t. I’ll love you the same, just like I love you and your brother the same.” He smiled. “It won’t matter if we have a boy, or a girl, or if we have 100 new babies…” She laughed, and Billy’s smile widened. “…We will always love you.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.” Billy held his breath as his daughter regarded him for a moment. Carefully, she put her teddy bear down and crawled over to Billy. He opened his arms, and she crawled into his lap, putting her little face on his chest. “I love you, baby girl.”
“I love you, too Daddy,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “I’m sorry I was bad.”
“It’s okay, baby, we all make mistakes.” He kissed her cheeks, making her giggle. “And you know what I just thought of?”
“What?”
“When the new baby comes, you’re gonna have to teach it everything.” He widened his eyes dramatically. “You’re gonna be a big sister! You’ll have to teach and care for and protect the baby, just like your brother does for you!”
Her eyes widened, too, and her mouth dropped. “I’m gonna be a big sister!” She said, shocked. Clearly, she hadn’t come to terms with her new role in the family. “The baby is gonna need me!”
“Mm hmm,” Billy agreed, nodding, “The baby is going to need a great big sister… Do you think you can be a good big sister?”
“I’m gonna be the best big sister!” She said seriously, nodding her head wildly. “I’m gonna show the baby how to make snow angels and teach it all the colors and numbers and letters I know…” She gasped, and Billy had to hold in a laugh at her theatrics. “If the baby is a girl, I can teach her how to ask Mommy to do her hair all pretty like she does for me!” She clapped her hands together. “Ooh, I hope it’s a girl! Can we ask the stark—”
“—stork,” Billy corrected with a laugh.
“—to bring us a girl?!” She finished excitedly.
“How about we write the stork a letter?” He suggested, propping his daughter on his knee. “With crayons and markers and glitter—”
“—On paper, like we’re a’sposed to!” She added, glad to have learned a lesson from this whole ordeal.
“Great idea, princess,” he kissed the top of her precious head, and she gave him a kiss on the cheek in return. “Do you want to see if your brother wants to help us?”
“Yes!” She jumped out of Billy’s lap and raced down the hall, calling her brother’s name.
Billy could feel an argument coming up—he was sure his son wanted a baby brother—but he knew it would all be in great fun. He stood up, picking up the teddy bear and placing it on his daughter’s bed. You were a few weeks away from learning if it’d be a boy or girl, but Billy would be happy with either. Hell, the fact that he would be getting another perfect child brought into this world was reason enough to celebrate.
“A hundred babies?” You said, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed over your chest.
Billy laughed. “You’re weirdly stealthy when you’re knocked up, you know that?” He said, coming over and wrapping an arm around your waist.
“I’m not having 100 babies,” you said, laughing as he kissed you.
“Nah?” He asked, dropping his head down to your neck and kissing you there. He grinned against your skin when he felt you shiver. “You sure?”
“I’m not…” You closed your eyes when Billy lightly bit down on your shoulder. “…We’re not…” He licked the bite, making you sigh contently. “…Maybe 99 babies…”
“That’s what I thought,” he smirked, straightening up and kissing you softly.
“Daddy! How do you spell ‘stork’, and ‘baby’, and ‘girl’, and ‘please’ and--?” Your daughter’s voice cut through the sexual tension in the air, and you both laughed at her questions.
“Duty calls,” Billy sighed, placing one hand in yours and the other on your belly.
“Fine.” You pretended to roll your eyes. “I know you went through an emotional roller coaster and whatever today, but I’m gonna need you to finish what you started here tonight, Mr. Russo.”
Billy grinned, leaning down and kissing you one more time before leading you down the hall. “Happy to, Mrs. Russo…”
For the rest of the evening, the four of you sat at the kitchen table, writing letters to the stork (who your daughter kept calling Mr. Stark, to which your son replied: “his name is Iron Man!”) while the radio played in the background. Neither of the kids even asked to turn on the TV, and Billy got warm hugs and kisses from them both when the two of you tucked them into bed.
(He got an even warmer show of affection from you that night…)
As he laid in bed with you in his arms, both hands on your tummy as you slept soundly, Billy knew he had made the right decision when he started his family with you. He was learning, still, how to be a good husband and father, but everyday he was growing more and more secure in his role, and more importantly, he was incredibly dedicated to being the best he could be for his family.
It was a decision that was easy to make.
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I flippin’ LOVE father!Billy! Ugh... Let me know what you guys think! I never had a nuclear family, so I hope this tracks lol! Thanks for reading!
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jennbabeyy · 5 years
Text
Angels (Pt. 2)
Frank Castle x Reader
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A/N: Another Frank Castle fluff that I couldn’t resist writing. This is Part 2 of Angels, Thank you guys for loving the first part. Let me know what ya’ll think! 
Part 1
Frank’s entire body burned with pain, he clenched his teeth together as he made his way home. The muscles in his body screamed at him, and he knew that his body was getting older. It was something that he kept in mind now. Over the years his body kept changing, he could no longer take the beatings that he used to in his prime time. Frank pulled his hood over his head, crossing the street towards the familiar building. The place that he now considered home. 
He finished “taking out the trash” earlier than he was used too. It was a term that Frank and Y/N had come up with to use around Liam. Every night, except weekends, Frank would “take out the trash” and managed to convince Liam that it was his night job.
Normally he would be home around midnight, but tonight Frank had a promise to keep. Frank was on his way home early because he had a book to read to a little boy. So naturally he was 30 minutes earlier.
Liam had been the little boy who had him wrapped around his finger. There wasn’t anyone else Frank would be keeping promises to except the now 5 year old. His family was still constantly on his mind and there were days where he missed them too much but Y/N and Liam never made him feel bad for it. Frank was lucky. His angels definitely had his back.
He had a new family, one that he hugs extra tight and makes sure to keep his promises. He truly believed his angels gave him a second chance and Frank wanted to make every second count. 
Quiet as ever, Frank was like a ninja as he made his way inside the apartment. It was quiet and he relished the moment for a bit, allowing his body to relax. All the tension finally leaving his body as he looked into the mirror in front of him. The mirror in the hallway was strategically placed there in case he missed any blood he forgot to clean. Frank was always careful when it came to stuff like that. After a double check, he placed his keys on the table.
Finally pulling off his boots, he made his way towards Liam’s room. The door is slightly ajar but Frank manages to peek through. His cold heart almost manages to warm up enough to melt at the sight of Y/n , Liam and his dog cuddled up in the newly twin bed. It wasn’t big enough for all of them but it looked cozy enough that he even wanted to join in. 
A small smile spread across his face noticing the book he was supposed to read on the bedside table, waiting for him. There isn’t much noise except from the small murmurs between the two of them and Frank held his breath, leaning in closer to listen. 
“Momma?” Liam asked in a raspy voice, indicating Frank that the little boy was still nursing a sore throat. The kid had been suffering with a cold for the past two days and Frank didn’t have the heart to say no to anything Liam asks for, hence him being home early.
Y/N hummed in response, her smooth hand running through Liam’s curls. Frank knew it was something that calmed Liam down and if he was being honest, it calmed him down too. 
“Do you think Frank loves us?” 
Frank’s eyes shot open at the question. The knot in his throat made it difficult for him to swallow  down his emotions. 
Y/n smiled at the question, it was an innocent question that meant no harm. Frank had made it clear that he cared for them, but he was never vocal about love. Not even with his late wife and his two children. It scared him, and Y/n patient as ever didn’t question his love for her. She saw the light in him.
Seconds went by and silence filled the room. 
Frank almost wanted to barge into the room so he wouldn’t be able to hear the answer to the question. Y/n was always persistent about being honest with Liam. She wanted him to be raised with no lies, except for the violence that Frank participated in. And Frank admired that. It made it easier for Frank to answer Liam’s questions. He was at the age where everything was a question and since he wasn’t around to answer Frankie Jr’s questions, he took over whenever he was needed. He enjoyed the challenges it came with.
Y/n soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, “I know Frank may seem a little quiet but he has a big heart, I know he does loves us, don’t you think Liam? Remember how we read a book about showing love in different ways?” 
Liam’s voice followed his mother’s, “Yeah, he’s always doing things for us. That’s why he’s my best friend. And I love him.” 
Frank damn near lost it, his eyes flowed with tears as he heard his little boy. 
His little boy.
He watched as Liam’s eyes kept flicking towards the clock, he knew he was counting down the minutes for his arrival. Of course, the little rascal took the time literal. Nevertheless it made him proud of having a smart 5 year old. 
The silence took over again and Frank stared at his family a little longer. He wanted to capture this moment forever. It made his heart swell with so much love, he didn’t know he could feel like this again. He wanted to cherish it and never feel empty again.
Frank was about to make his appearance known when Liam spoke again.
“Do you think Frank would be sad if I called him daddy?”
His heart literally stopped. Frank thought he would have a couple more years until he would hear that word again. It made him get goosebumps just by hearing that one word. He was always respectful of Liam’s late dad, and never pushed for Liam to call him anything more than Frank. He was just Frank and he honestly didn’t mind that 
But hearing Liam calling him daddy, that feeling right there was something indescribable. It made him feel important, good enough to be someone’s dad again. It made him miss Frankie and Lisa, but most importantly it made him want to be Liam’s dad.
Y/n kept her calm, only pulling her son closer to her. She was an amazing mom, he considered his late wife one of the best mothers ever but she was up there right next to Maria. He was lucky enough to watch her every day and will continue to as long as he was alive.
“Why would he be sad baby?” Y/n spoke softly. 
“Because what if Frank doesn’t want another son, he already has one.” Liam reached down to pet the loyal pitbull whose tail wagged at the attention.
 Y/n never hid his late children from Liam, they became something familiar to the 5 year old. Frank remembers the emotional night where he realized that Liam put a picture of his two children on his bedside table. He almost broke down that night as he silently asked his children to look after Liam because he wouldn’t be able to handle anything happening to that little boy. 
The confession cutting deep into his heart, Frank decided it was the right time to step in. He took a deep breath and slowly pushed the door open.
Liam jumped up at the sight of him and Frank couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on his face. 
He was home.
“You’re five minutes early Frank.” He chuckled, kneeling down to place a short kiss on Y/n’s lips. 
He reached out placing a hand on the swollen belly in front of him. A strong kick was felt underneath his rough hand. That was his youngest daughter saying hello. He couldn’t wait for her to get here. 
“See, when I promised my kids I would be here for a bedtime story, I mean it. Dads never break their promises.”
Frank saw Liam’s face light up, he can already see the wheels turning in the 5 year old’s head. He was smart enough to figure it out on his own. 
Y/n placed her hand on top of his, squeezing it slightly and clearly overwhelmed with emotions as the tears in her eyes threaten to fall.
“Really?” His little voice cracked.
“Yeah, you’re my kid. Always will be, you hear? I got 4 kids now.” 
Frank wrapped his arms around his son, and Y/n along with his soon to be daughter, appreciating the second chance he got.
 He wasn’t going to let them go any time soon.
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Another @badthingshappenbingo card fill! I’ve had this idea in my head a while, and the stars just aligned.
Trope: survivor’s guilt
Fandom: The Breakfast Club
Characters: John Bender, Andy Clarke
Warnings: blood, abuse, graphic animal death, implied/referenced death of a minor, PTSD, implied/referenced addiction. This oneshot is very, very dark. Reader discretion is advised.
"Sic 'em, girl!" Bender stumbled into the backyard, turning to see his dad standing in the doorway. "I told you to get lost," The older man said and stepped to the side, letting Mabel barrel past him. The chocolate pitbull was thin, her ribs showing, but she was fierce. With her boxy head, strong jaw, and quick eyes, she was one hell of a guard dog. She was a nervous, spiteful thing, much like John, and for the same reasons. His dad would take a belt to her if she didn't obey, but she'd leap at the chance to chase a guy down. Mabel lowered her front to the ground, glancing around, before seeing John and baring her teeth in a greedy grin. John hoped that she would recognize him as the only one who fed her, the one who let her sleep in his bed and who scratched behind her ears, the one whose cuts she licked when he caught a rough beating. But the usually quiet, graceful dog jerked forward into another sprint when she saw her target. John backed up a few feet and turned to run. He made it a few strides, almost out of the yard, before she caught up and latched onto his right calf. Bender fell to the ground with a scream, but no amount of struggling could dislodge her. The pit bull's teeth were sunk into his leg, her jaw locked stubbornly. She started to twist her head back and forth, pulling with rough yanks, tearing shouts of pain from John. The leg of his jeans, along with the grass beneath him, was rapidly growing dark with blood. He tried to get her to let go, saying her name, ordering her to let go, distracting her, but she was dead set on dragging him back to the house to show off her prize. "Mabel, let go, for- agh! - for fuck's sake," John said for the tenth time, his hands itching to shove her away but afraid to make her tear at his leg more. There was a lot of blood. "Please, come on, girl." He slammed his fist into the ground beside him, trying to hold in another scream, and she growled, pulling harder. Desperate, Bender reached into his pocket and pulled out his switchblade. He flicked it open, hesitating. "Mabel, jus- sh-shit," He gasped, agony ripping through him with each tug from her locked jaw. "Let go, girl." She didn't. With all that blood, he was genuinely concerned that he might bleed out. And she was not letting up. "Come on, sweetheart," He hissed, straining to not sound threatening. There was no prying her mouth open, no calming her down, no getting out of this any other way. John raised his right arm, fist clenched around the handle of his knife, but he faltered with a dry sob. Fuck, it hurt like hell. He didn't want to do this. Shit. With a grimace, he stabbed her. He did it again before he could lose his nerve, letting the blade sink into her belly. Mabel's jaw unlocked then, and she cowered back, curling in on herself. She made the most heartbreaking sounds of panic. The pitbull whimpered and tried to crawl away, but she was bleeding too now. After a minute, she just lay still, panting and whining until her frantically rising and falling torso moved no more. John was in a haze as his father stormed over, having heard the sounds of the attack shift from his son's cries to the dog's shrill whimpers. Bender stared at her body, the blood, the blood on his hands. He dropped the knife, and it moved away. No, he was moving away. His dad was dragging him. There was a trail of blood being smeared through the grass as John was pulled away from her. To a hospital? Was he being brought into the house for a beating after what he'd done? When he heard the creaking of the metal cellar doors, John cringed. So that was his punishment. He didn't fight as he was dragged again, shoved in past the doors and pushed down the steps. He rolled and landed on the concrete floor of the basement. Bender didn't look at his old man as he closed the doors, a chain sliding and a padlock clicking into place up there. It was pitch black now. John wished he would just pass out - he was already kind of loopy from the blood loss, why couldn't he just black out and deal with this later? - but he remained conscious, lying in the large, empty space. He was crying. It didn't bother him because it was for Mabel, the only good thing in the damn place. If she wasn't lying dead out there, she'd curl up next to him, nudge him with her nose if he passed out, lick his wounds. Her blood was still on his hands, he could feel it growing cold. John didn't sit up, didn’t try to stop the bleeding, he didn't do shit. He kind of wished he would just bleed out and get it over with. He was fucking tired of this, all of it. ~ Andy didn't trust that Bender's dad was telling the truth. Sick? Yeah right, Bender would rather die of the flu in the street than stay in his house for a whole day. No fucking way. A little nervous, the blond snuck around the side of the house and to the back, hoping to find a window to John's room. He stopped short when he saw a dog - a dead dog. A pit bull, lying in a small puddle of blood. There was a trail of blood, and Andy followed it with widening eyes. There was Bender's switchblade, lying open. And past that, the trail led to a locked pair of cellar doors. He had no idea what had happened - well, it looked like Bender had killed a dog - but someone, a very injured someone, must be locked in that cellar. Moving closer, he saw there was indeed a padlock and chain holding the doors closed. That shed across the yard must have tools, he thought. Andy glanced at the house's windows, saw no movement, and quickly made his way over to the toolshed, avoiding the dog's corpse and the flies buzzing around it. Just inside the door he found a toolbox and grabbed boltcutters from it. He noticed a large stain on the floor and recalled what Bender had said in detention. ~ "Do you believe this? Huh? It's about the size of a cigar...Do I stutter? You see, this is what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage." ~ Andy shivered and left the shed, heading straight to the cellar doors. It took a few tries, and figuring out it would be easier to cut the thin chain than the padlock, but Andy managed to slide the chains through the handles of the door. Mr. Bender had seemed pretty drunk, he must have passed out after answering the door or else he would have heard all the metal clanking and scraping. Andy stooped down and grabbed the handles of the cellar doors and pulled them open, flooding the basement below with light. Bender was sprawled on the floor down there. He lay on his back, squinting up at the sudden glare of sunlight. He wasn’t facing the stairs so all he saw was an upside-down silhouette in the light. “Dad?” John’s voice was quiet. He didn’t seem like he could tell if he was dreaming or not. Andy figured that was thanks to the alarmingly large puddle of blood he lay in. “Bender, holy shit,” Clarke descended into the dark basement. “What happened?” John frowned in confusion. “Go away.” “That’s a lot of blood.” Bender didn’t look down at his leg, he didn’t move. “Fuck off,” He nearly whispered. Andy hovered, unsure how to help. “Did that dog bite you before or after you stabbed it?” John turned his head away. His chest hitched. Andy thought he was trying to keep from yelling at him, but the following silence made him reevaluate. “Are you crying?” The wrestler asked, trying to see Bender’s face. John didn’t move any more to hide it, which worried Andy. “It’s not fair,” The criminal lamented. He paused to take a few breaths, which Clarke was starting to notice were too short and quick. “He made her do it.” “Who?” Andy tensed. “Your dad?” Bender nodded absently. It was strange to see him so lethargic and off-balance. “And then he locked you down here?” “Mmhmm,” John looked up at the ceiling. “Just wanted to go inside,” he mumbled. “What do you mean?” “He locked me out. I went around back. He shoved me back out and made her chase me.” John licked his dry lips. “I didn’t wanna hurt her.” Clarke glanced at the guy’s torn leg. “You didn’t have a choice.” John swallowed a sound of despair and Andy realized how bad Bender had it. Not just that things like this, like getting burned with cigars happened to him, but that it was normal for him. Now Andy felt stupid for complaining about his own dad, who urged him to train harder and be better. That was the worst he got, while John dealt with pain and isolation and fear. It was hard to see Bender lying there, trapped, struggling to breathe, pale and shaky, and reconcile it with the asshole criminal from detention. There was a distant crashing sound from inside the house above them, and Bender froze. “Is he home?” The words slipped out on a low breath. “Yeah,” Clarke answered, pushing himself from his knees to the balls of his feet, ready to move. “We gotta get out of here.” “Hide,” John hissed. He cocked his head, listening hard. “What? There’s nowhere to-“ “Hide!” The cry was so soft and panicked that it spurred Clarke into action. He got to his feet, cast around for something to hide behind, and rushed to the stairs. He managed to slide into the dusty space beneath them before the back screen door opened and heavy footsteps approached. They paused briefly at the cellar doors before thundering down the wooden stairs. “You still breathing, Johnny?” The older man mocked. Andy could see his form standing over John from between the slats of wood hiding him. “You got some chores to do, geddup!” He kicked John, who jerked but kept quiet. His dad swayed. “I’m not carryin’ your lazy ass, now get the fuck up!” John tried, pushing himself up on his elbows and sitting up. He bent his left leg to rise, but his right leg shifted and he fell back down with a cry, panting. “I said, get your ass up!” The man grabbed his son under the armpits and dragged him up. John actually screamed when his bad leg was moved below him and forced to take some weight. His dad turned him and slung John over his shoulder with a grunt. Bender cried out with each step as he was carried up the stairs. Andy winced when he hear Bender hit the ground outside with a terrible howl of pain. “Take this.” Something else hit the ground. “Bury that stinking thing, I’m tired of swattin’ flies. You can come in when you’re done.” A few tense seconds later, the back door clicked shut and was audibly locked. Clarke crouched to get out from under the stairs, brushing cobwebs out of his hair. He looked up from the cellar a moment, listening, before he started up the rotting wooden stairs. John was kneeling, his bloody leg twisted to the side so he wouldn’t put his weight on it. Mabel lay a yard away in a horde of flies. There was a small shovel in his hands, but he wasn’t digging. Andy walked around him to see why he wasn’t moving. Bender was staring at the far corner of the backyard, eyes haunted. “Hey,” Andy spoke, sitting beside the quiet guy. John didn’t respond. There was soft sound behind him and Clarke turned quick. There was a guy their age standing by the house, looking at them with a furrowed brow. When Andy had turned to look, he'd moved from where he blocked the view to John on the ground, and the stranger started toward them. "Who are you?" Andy asked, put off. "Friend of Bender's," The guy answered, distracted. He moved to John's side and knelt. He looked John over, then to the corner of the yard he was staring off at. The guy looked sad. "The name's Axel," He offered to Andy, then pointed at the dead dog. "Who did that?" Clarke nodded to Bender. "His dad made her attack him. He said he didn't want to hurt her." Axel looked to the house angrily. "Fucker made him..." He shook his head and looked over to the corner of the yard again. "He killed her." Bender's shoulders tensed. Axel looked to him once more. "Hey, man, 's your old pal Axel here. I'm just gonna take that shovel there, okay?" John was still tense, and Axel didn't take the shovel right away. "I'm right next to you. I'm gonna reach out for it, I'm not gonna touch you." He held out his hand, and John gave him the shovel, looking down at it for a few seconds. Axel then handed it to Clarke. "You dig, I'll find a way to move her." He stood then, heading to the shed. Andy watched him walk away before he started digging by the dog. It took twenty minutes to dig a hole big enough - he didn't want to bury her too shallow. Axel had grabbed an old stained sheet from the shed, probably for painting, and wrapped it around the dog. He pulled it over to the hole and set her down inside with care. Andy filled in the hole. John was staring at the ground now. Axel sat beside him again. "That bite needs to be treated. You okay to go inside and deal with it?" Axel asked lowly. Bender nodded. "Sick. I'm gonna help you up first. I'll be on your right side, arm at your back." Clarke watched curiously as Axel announced every move before he made it, and carefully got John to his feet. They started toward the house, John making small sounds of pain, Axel taking half of his weight. Andy didn't follow, unsure if he should. He waited, and Axel came back out pretty soon. He closed the back door quietly and approached Clarke. "Let's take a walk." Andy followed Axel out of the yard, looking back at the house. They were a block away before he spoke. "What was that all about?" Clarke asked. "Which part? I assume you know what Bender's home life is like. Did you imagine it different?" "I didn't imagine it being like that. I found him locked in the basement, bleeding out." Axel took a breath and nodded. "He doesn't have it easy." "I mean, that's crazy. You think it's crazy, right? He could have died." "I hate it, but it happens. I've seen you around school; I know you're popular, well-off. You don't know the shit that goes down around here." "Is he gonna be okay?" Andy looked back once more at the house, barely visible now. "For tonight, sure. Old man's passed out so that's not a big risk. I cleaned and wrapped his wound so infection's a 50-50 deal. Couldn't stitch it closed. He's way better at it than I am but he wasn't really in the zone to focus." "Yeah, what was with that? He was just... staring." "Mmm. Yeah, that's some heavy shit. It was just like Rosie." "Rosie?" Axel nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Yeah. Bender had a sister." Clarke's brows shot up. "A sister?" He thought a second, then added, "Had?" "She wasn't planned. His mom got pregnant, no idea why she didn't get rid of it. Had a girl. Thing is, she and the old man didn't want her. Maybe they wanted a boy, or they're just assholes. Anyway, John held her, and - to hear him tell it, she was the most beautiful thing in the world. Big brown eyes. He named her Rosie. He was the only one that gave a shit about her, so he kept her close. She slept in his room, he made a little, like, nest of blankets for her to sleep in. Stole baby food, milk, clothes, toys for her. You know, babies cry like a motherfucker for the first few months. He caught a beating near every day for all the times she woke them up hollering, but he wouldn't let his old man near her. Bender stopped drinking, smoking, stayed clean for her. She had this crazy laugh when he'd make faces, she'd giggle like a little goblin." Axel remembered fondly, then his expression clouded over. "She made it two years in that house." "What happened?" Andy knew the story didn't end well, but he kind of hoped it somehow would. Axel shook his head. "John went out, twenty minutes, tops. Needed to steal some more baby food. When he got back, the old man was on the couch, and she was on the floor. He must've dropped her or kicked her or something. Bender found her dead. He lost it, tried to kill his dad. He slashed him with his knife. Got beat half to death for it, then the old man made him bury her out back. In the corner of the yard." Axel sighed. "She was so small." He glanced at Clarke, who looked horrified. "After that, Bender didn't talk for a few weeks. Took any chance to go out and get blasted. Started shooting up. He's been better, but he can't talk about it." "How long ago did that happen?" "Couple years. We must've been fourteen. Mabel was a puppy when Rosie was born, John bought her off some junkie a town over. He wanted a pit bull to protect Rosie when she was old enough to walk, figured she'd be like him and get into trouble early on. Rosie loved that dog. Mabel played with her like the kid was another pup. After Rosie... Mabel was all Bender had. He was the only one that fed her. Let her sleep in his room, tried to keep her from the old man. She tried to protect him when he was hurt. Now, I don't know what he's gonna do." "I never would've guessed he loved someone like that. I mean, he's such a-" "Dick. Yeah, everyone thinks that. And he's far from nice. But he really, really loved her." Andy deflated. Then, he remembered another thing that had confused him. "Why were you talking like that to him?" "Huh?" Axel looked at him weird. "Oh, like, saying everything I was gonna do before I did it? I mean, do you know him at all?" "I guess not that much," Andy admitted. "You gotta do that when he's hurt bad. If you just touch him, he freaks out. I mean, when you've lived like that your whole life, you get pretty jumpy." "What can I do? I don't know him that well. How can I know if he's safe?" "You can't." Axel stopped walking, and Andy realized they were in a nicer neighborhood now. "Walk home, jock. You can't make home any safer for him, and he doesn't want your pity. Best thing you can do is give him space. Be normal around him." "How am I supposed to be normal when I know what it's like for him?" Clarke asked, put off. "You're not the white knight that's gonna swoop in, dish out some money and get him out of there. I know you think you can help, but you can't. Just let him be." With that, Axel walked away.
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ghoulstars · 6 years
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im only posting this bc i desperately need to exorcise this thought somewhere bc it wont fucking leave me alone
those of you who know me personally or follow my instagram know about this but for those of you who dont: in a horrible turn of events, our plan to put down our geriatric yellow labrador retriever dixie was unfortunately and unexpectedly doubled today to having to put down our 3 year old engam bulldog, bean, as well
when we got him in mid december, 2015 he was barely out of puppyhood, we found him wandering around near the highway at our local gas station with a collar and no tag, trying to jump into two out-of-towner girls’ car. my stepdad intervened bc they couldnt take bean with them obviously, and brought him home instead.
we put up lost dog flyers everywhere all over our very small city, in an attempt to maybe see if someone would indeed come forward for their dog. we knew he wasnt just a stray because of his collar.
almost right off the bat, we were told by a woman who worked at the gas station that there was a man who lived in the trailer park just across the road, located behind the pancake diner. you can see it from the gas station parking lot. she told us that he had a lot of dogs that he typically kept chained up outside in poor conditions, and beat them regularly. to us? it seemed totally reasonable that that must’ve been where bean came from, given the fact he was a dog and we found him literally less than 50 feet away from where this fucking man lived.
no one came forward to claim bean. we kept those flyers up for months, we only put them up to begin with knowing he may have been thrown out by (or escaped from) this disgusting man just because there was the possibility that it wasn’t his dog, but someone else’s. as well as the potential for legal intervention if this fabled abuser found out we had technically stolen his dog (and full disclosure, fuck him for what he does, i hope all his dogs get stolen like they need to be, i myself was not fond of the idea of just giving the dog back to this creep if he was indeed the owner but i was only 16 at the time so there wasnt much i could do)
with no one claiming bean, after those months passed, we decided that he was ours now. flyers were taken down, we gave him his collar and nametag, to be real he’d already been named by us in the first few days we had him. he was going to be ours no matter what; my mother always told me its a rule that if you name a stray, and do it quick before anyone can object to keeping it, it’s yours now. that’s your pet, with it’s new name.
so we carried on with our lives, now having not just one dog, but two. it was a bit iffy with my stepfather keeping bean since we didnt technically need to manage two dogs at the time, but we still did it anyways because we loved him, the little bean man.
but here’s where my problem lies and this is why im writing this now: as time went on and we continued to have bean as our pet, some stuff about the original suggestion that he belonged to an abusive older man who lived in close proximity to where we found bean wasnt adding up
due to dixie’s failing body, she would sometimes lose control of her bowels inside the house, which was becoming unacceptable when she stayed in overnight. so, she stayed outside. she and bean bonded, so they stayed outside together too. (and for clarity here, i know what some of you might want to say, but we knew very early on that bulldogs do not do well with heat or isolation. we also know that dixie probably shouldve been put down years ago, but here’s the trouble: my stepfather would not let us euthanize her. she is his dog technically, and the thought hurt him so much that he would not agree to it for YEARS. dixie and bean were too attached to separate them for long periods of time like they would be if we kept bean inside mostly and her outside mostly; that would’ve been cruel in its own special way. we put pools out for bean and visited with both dogs for as much as we could outside, bathed them, put fans out for them in the summer. our only option to give bean the main love and care he needed was, and of course we had other reasons to do this, to put dixie down, which was where we thought we were finally going to be by tomorrow, but thats not what happened, as you can tell)
as to be expected, bean sometimes found his way inside, mostly by applying his american bulldog traits to memorizing when unfamiliar guests would come over and bolt in the house. he did this enough times and very recently we were letting him stay inside instead of taking him back out, and all of these experiences combined, we noticed something: bean was housebroken. he was out of practice with it, and did not know very well how to communicate that he needed to go outside to use the bathroom, but he did know what to do. he would run to the door if he had to go, not always making it, but still, he was housebroken. he only marked furniture once while inside, in his entire lifespan thus far. that was a red flag to us, but especially my mother, who realized this skill of beans directly contradicted the statement that he was probably kept outside, chained up, starved, and beaten by the trailer park guy. not to mention, bean came to us in nearly perfect condition to begin with, just skinny. no patches of fur gone, he was the opposite of skittish and aggressive, no bruises, nothing. just a loving, bouncy, stupid bulldog mix
this, im not sure if im correct about this, but it stands out enough to me that i feel its worth mentioning: bean is not a mutt of any kind, and his breed contradicts those types of breeds most people who abuse animals come to own; usually large breeds, breeds inaccurately known for aggression, and breeds used by abusers to make aggressive bc they know the fighting power of these dogs (pitbulls, american bulldogs, etc). bean is an engam bulldog (english/american mix), which is a very obscure mixed breed dog to begin with and especially obscure where i live, and as we all know english bulldogs are short, stout, fat little things that can basically do no harm whatsoever. they also have a history of inbreeding to look how they do. i know this man may have just seen ‘bulldog’ and snagged him thinking he’d be aggressive, but that does not sit right with me for two other reasons: bean’s conformation (body structure) and coloration. there is nothing about bean that suggests he was bred to be used for fighting, or that he’s a true mutt, or anything of the sort. his body type literally resembles that of show dogs, and his fur coloration is highly unusual because he’s blue. obviously not literally blue but the type of blue-grey you can find in animals, typically seen in cats. bean’s coloration is almost NEVER found in ANY breed of bulldog, it is INCREDIBLY rare that he looks like this. his condition in which we found him, his housebrokenness, his color and his body formation lead, in me and my family’s opinion, to an alternative opinion: he belonged to someone that got him because they wanted a dog as a pet, not to beat, and they either bred him themselves or bought him (probably from a pet store or breeder) for his color and conformation. 
but why would they dump a dog this valuable? my mom said this to me earlier, sobbing after she returned from the vet today, and this is my whole reason for writing this insane fucking novel of a post: whoever dumped bean threw out a sick puppy, and on purpose.
bean hasnt been injured or contracted an unvaccinated illness or anything like that. he had been experiencing extreme stomach distension for the past month, whereas he was losing weight everywhere else on his body. he had also been vomiting. but he wasnt depressed, or lethargic. maybe his personality was a little off but not so much it was horribly noticeable, and at that, he was still eating regularly everyday. we came to the conclusion he had parasites, though ive always been terrified something more serious was going on (i dont get listened to though).
as it turns out, i was right. mom took him in today, the day before dixie was set to be put down, for his deworming pills. what she got instead was a diagnosis of possible lung cancer. his blood work was normal, which is unusual in animals with cancer, but he still had nodules on his lungs that highly resembled cancer. his heart was also severely enlarged due to heartworms, and his stomach was so distended because it was full of fluid and blood. they did send his blood off for labs, but even if his lungs were fine, he was going to die anyway (they got a second opinion from another practice and they also agree it was probably cancerous). he has a 15% survival rate for only the very first heartworm treatment, which will cost $500. nothing lives very long with an enlarged heart to begin with. we don’t have that money, and for a treatment that will definitely kill him? i dont even know why he has so much blood and fluid in his digestive tract. bean, a dog who is only 3 or 4 years old, has an enlarged heart, lung tumors and fluid/blood all in his abdomen. the vet was apparently stunned that a dog this young could have this many potentially (and one definitely) fatal health problem(s).
i now fully believe that whoever owned him before knew he had all these issues, or that he was going to develop them. i think it makes sense. i also think they’re cheap, cruel fucks who didnt want to shell out that much money to take care of him, or pay to take him to a shelter/sanctuary, and so what did they do? they did what many people these days very regularly do when their new pet has become undesirable: they fucking dumped him on the side of the road and booked it. took his nametag off and everything, to make him look like a stray. they left him for some well meaning, animal loving family like mine to find him, not know anything about these preexisting health issues, and assume he’s healthy enough; maybe just needs a few more vaccinations and a worm and flea treatment. he showed no signs of lung cancer or heart problems in all his life up until this past month, and he’s still so young. i will even go as far as to say that he himself may be severely inbred, which could be the cause of these health issues. given his specific posture and color, and that he’s a bulldog, it’d make sense. it seems like he came from some kind of breeder to begin with anyway.
so now that ive said that and got it all out of the way, i want to leave an open letter to the hypothetical cunt that did this to us and bean:
i hope god fucking strikes you down where you stand. i hope every single day of your miserable fucking life, you think about where he ended up, if he’s still alive, if anyone found him, if he ever got hit by a car or died alone of cancer and heart failure in a field somewhere. i hope you feel guilt for leaving him knowing he’d develop cancer and that he had heart worms, and knowing you did it BECAUSE of that. i hope you never fucking forget about the fact that you threw an INNOCENT LITTLE PUPPY out on the highway because you just didnt want to have anything to do with his illnesses, and i hope one day you find out what you did to us and this innocent little boy. he’s such a good fucking dog, he is so patient, kind, loving and gentle, and when he has bursts of energy to play he fucking goes, and now he has to die barely halfway through his lifespan because of your fucking negligence. he is laying outside on the porch right now, uncomfortable with fluids and blood backing up his intestines, coughing and huffing just to try and breathe. at the very least, if he were taken to the right shelter, he couldve been fucking cared for and given treatments to extend his life as much as possible, or at least given hospice care for however long he could live, which has now been shortened to 3 or 4 years. if you yourself knew this dog was inbred or you inbred him yourself, fuck you. i hope you get run over by a fucking truck. this breed can live from 12-16 years, that’s a LONG time for a dog like him, and you had to fucking ruin it all because of your own fucking preferences; you wanted the perfect dog. and you could’ve had him if you’d grown a fucking heart and actually gave a shit about animals beyond how they look aesthetically; as well, if you fucking actually gave a shit about your animals HEALTH and wanted to maintain it instead of apparently assuming he’d just be fine and healthy with all his vaccinations and that’d be the end of it. you do not deserve to own an animal if you dont even want to acknowledge it will sometimes need medical care, how fucking heartless are you? we never had enough money to take care of dixie’s failing health, and we always knew it’d be better to put her down, but my stepdad kept refusing. you had enough money to fucking breed or buy a blue show-quality engam bulldog and you still wouldnt fucking care for him after you found out what problems he had. fuck you. eat shit and die. i hope you never find peace from the guilt of knowing you fucking killed what became our dog because you’re selfish. my mother is physically sick with grief. i am physically sick with grief. i feel so bad that it’s as if i have the fucking flu. i was trying to talk with my mother about this situation earlier and i had to rush to leave because i felt like i was about to throw up if i didnt. everyone in this house has cried so much today it’s disgusting. 
the only thing good about this is that bean came along for dixie when she needed him most, and became her helper and provider, giving her company and being a literal post to lean on for when she couldnt see where she was going. they’re going over the rainbow bridge tomorrow morning together, and in a way, this is probably the best outcome. at least bean wont have to grieve. dixie can see her old companion again (who died from a ruptured tumor in 2014) and bean can meet him, and they can all play and be together in that field in the sky. 
my family will never have another dog again because of this pain this has caused us.
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What I’ve learnt from kids...
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I have made it no secret that I have managed anxiety and depression for many years. I say managed as I feel that in my journey it will always be something that I live with. For this reason, I have implemented many coping techniques, from exercising, nutrition, drawing to surrounding myself with my “village” of supportive caring people.
Despite my awareness of my condition and my coping techniques, last week I had a bad week. 
Having identified where I was, I put the call out for support which was answered immediately by so many people. This alone warmed my heart and lifted part of the dark veil. The first hands I grabbed was that of my partner’s ex-wife and her husband (that’s a story for another day).  The kids and I stayed at their house for the night. I was supported by other adults, the kids were safe and happy and I wasn’t alone. That was what I needed right then and there.
Once I had been dragged out of this hole enough to to start clawing the rest of the way out myself, I went on to do the things that have helped me in the past. I got some fresh air, some light exercise, ate right… you know, the usual stuff people tell you to do. What was different about this weekend however is that I was surrounded by children. On reflection, observing them and learning from them made me realise that life isn’t as complicated as we make it. It’s the simple things that make life beautiful and that sometimes we just have to let go and be vulnerable in order to grow strong. 
So here is what the children in my life taught me these last few days…. 
Miss “Nearly 2” 
During our sleep over, she decided it would be fun to jump from the couch onto the mattress that was on the floor of the lounge room. There was roughly a metre gap from the couch to the safety of the bouncy mattress. My son asked her not to jump until he secured the platform and surrounds to ensure she wouldn’t roll off and hurt herself. She must have thought that my son had done a good enough job and just before he finished she took a leap of faith followed by giggles of triumph. She took a risk, albeit a small risk, but a risk none the less. She made it to the safety of the mattress and it was fun! Fun was the goal and the risk paid off. This went on for another 15 minutes or so. 
Master 5 & Miss 3
On Saturday, my kids and I went to a sculpture park. They are both independent and went off to do their own thing. As I was watching them play, I didn’t realise that I was about to be adopted by another brother and sister duo! In keeping with the naming conventions, let’s call them Master 5 and Miss 3. Master 5 approached me first, asked me what my name was asked if I wanted to play and I thought why not! He then introduced me to Miss 3. For the next 1.5 hours, these 2, who I later found to be in foster care, held my hand, dragged me around the play-ground, made me go down the slide and made me have fun.  Later, Miss 12 joined in the fun while my Master 7 went down the flying fox for the 853,455th time. When it was time to leave, we were all sad. Most people who my new friends connect with leave and are never seen again, I was just another person they connected with that was leaving. While Miss 3 would barely look at me, Master 5 gave me some flowers and we waved good bye. They showed me in 1.5 hours that we should see past any differences and not be afraid to make connections even if you know they won’t last. For that small period of time, we connected and we were friends. 
Neighbour Miss 3
The next day, another little Miss 3 came over. She is our neighbour who basically has free reign of our house. Our pitbull cross loves her as much as she loves him and has no problem with her walking in and out of his space. She comes in and tells us all about her bunk bed and asks to watch cartoons. We had seen Moana about 3 times that week as it’s her current choice of movie. Sometimes she asks “can you do this” and proceeds to run on the spot. She has never once focused on what she doesn’t have or what she can’t do. We haven’t known each other long but she feels safe and welcomed in our home. We are trusted by her and she teaches me that trust is something that should never be taken advantage of and it feels nice when someone feels safe around you. 
Master 7
My son, had been playing with his friend (Neighbour Miss 3’s older brother) all weekend. He was getting around on his trike and leather jacket, yelling and demonstrating his kickboxing skills. He’s a stereo typical boy as far as being rough, dirty and noisy goes. But he has fun doing it! What stands out though is his ability to know when to be tender and gentle. When he saw me upset (which I try not to let the kids see too much) he sprang into action with his gentleness and charm. He  gently knocked on the door, asked if I was ok, hugged me tightly and said “I love you mum”. All a beautiful reminder that there is a time to have fun, a time to be tender and that a small gesture is all we need sometimes to make things better. 
Miss 12
Finally, my daughter, who is going through a tough time herself. Which pre-teen isn’t? Sure we butt heads sometimes, we don’t understand each other (I know I didn’t understand my mum when I was 12) and we don’t always get along but when we join forces, we can move mountains. We were both in a bad place emotionally yet we both identified it and worked together to help each other through it. She teaches me that children do as you do, not always as you would like.  My actions will be reflected in hers. She will learn from what I do and as such I need to set a positive example. That doesn’t mean I won’t slip up and she knows that. After all we aren’t born experts at life.  
In a nut shell, this weekend, kids taught me 
To take risks & put trust in others, 
Make connections even if you might get hurt when it's time to say good   bye, 
Trust others and honour the trust given to us,
 Focus on what we have and what we can do rather than what we don’t have and cant do,
 Have fun but recognise when it’s time to be gentle,
 Working together can make amazing things happen and
 It’s not about how many times you fall, it’s about how many times  you get back up. 
Kids keep things simple, I think it’s time adults did the same. If anyone needs me I’ll be in the corner with my crayons and colouring book.
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buckyscrystalqueen · 6 years
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Life On The Road: Part 1
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Pairings: Eventual Chibs x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, mentioned unprotected sex, one night stand, fluff, angst
Word Count: 4,380
Aesthetic by @sorenmarie87
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey y’all! It’s (Y/N) and Tinkerbell, the killer pitbull.” You said with forced happiness as you turned your phone and your Instagram live stream toward your dog in your passenger seat. Her ear twitched at the sound of her name but other than a huff, she didn’t move a muscle. “See, so vicious.” You turned the camera back to you and smiled as hearts and comments from your nearly two million followers started to pour in. “So anyways, I’d like ta thank y’all for all the awesome music suggestions last week on my blog; been busier than a moth in a mitten, I’ll tell you what. Y’all made this trip through Cali straight legit. However, y’all are so spot on with these songs, I managed to run out of gas somewhere north of Stockton. Yea, I know. Smooth as shit. Apparently the dang porch light’s on but ain’t no one home, t’day.
And a’course, I thought I had the back up diesel but I used it back in Vegas for the dadgum generator.” You sighed and ran your hand through your hair. “Normally I’d blame it on Tinkerbell but just wait until you see this Sunday’s video. I managed ta get her reaction on my GoPro the second the Beast pattered ta a stop an’ if it ain't the cutest thang, I don't know what is.” You reached out and fondly pat your dashboard as you talked about your truck and shrugged your shoulders.
“So any’a y’all out there in the Stockton area wanna come save my ass with some gas? I don’ wanna have ta lock Tink up in the Lagoon on the side’a the road, ya know?” You glanced at your side mirror as a 18-wheeler drove past you. “Welp. I needed ta stop for supper anyways so looks like I’m eatin’ here. If yea wanna rescue my southern ass, Tink and I are on interstate… shit, I ain’t even know. Looks like I’m unloading the bike from the back at save my damn self. Love all y’all!” You pursed your lips together and blew a kiss before waving at the camera. “Check in later!” With that, you hit the end button and sighed.
“The hail didn’t you remind me about gas, Tink?” You asked as you grabbed your truck keys and your purse. Tink, your gorgeous, beige, two year old, red nose, green eyed pitbull rescue, stood up and stretched on the passenger seat. You unclipped her seatbelt and she shook and waited for you to let her out on her side. You checked for traffic before jumping out of your black, Ford F350 Super Duty. You grumbled to yourself as you headed around the front to let Tink out so you could scrounge up something for the two of you for a slightly early dinner.
——
“Guys, look it’s her!” The Sons’ heads all perked up as Juice spun his laptop on the bar so everyone could see. Jax, Opie, Tig and Chibs all came over to watch your live stream.
“Damn… that accent gets me every time.” Tig moaned as Jax’s brow furrowed.
“Did she just say Stockton?” He asked as he tipped his beer toward the screen. The men all got quiet as they listened to the rest of your live video. As they watched, Juice pulled up a different screen on his laptop and pulled up the bookmark he had of your travel blog.
“Really, Juice? You have it bookmarked?” Opie asked as Juice navigated to the live map of your location. It probably wasn’t your smartest decision to give psycho’s the exact location you were in but you felt more secure as a single woman with your followers knowing where you were in case something really bad actually happened.
“That’s right outside Charming.” Chibs said as he pointed to the small photo of your dog’s adorable face; your choice of location beacon.
“Oh, we’re so going.” Juice said as you signed off your live video with a kiss.
“You’re gunna look like a damn stalker.” Jax said as he went back to his beer.
“Yea, on that note, I gotta get home.” Ope sighed as he grabbed his keys off the bar.
“I’ll go, just to hear that accent.” Tig said.
“Aye. Don’ ‘ear much’a tha’ back ‘ome.” Chibs agreed as he hit his hand on the bar. “Prospect! Get the truck and the extra gas can!”
“I call dibs. I found her videos first.” Juice said as he got up from the bar and closed his laptop.
“Can’t call dibs on a girl you don’t know.” Tig said as the three guys headed out to the lot to be your knights in shining armor. “She might be into older guys…”
“Ye’ve nothin’ on the foreigner, lads. Just ye watch.”
——
“Don’t you turn your nose up, miss thang. Just ‘cause it ain’t cooked on the grill, don’t mean it ain’t good steak.” Tink walked up to her Micky Mouse shaped dog bowl (so she would eat slower) and sniffed the cut up meat and dog food mixture in her bowl. You leaned against your tile covered counter top and cocked your eyebrow at her as you munched on the steak salad you had made. With a huff, Tink began to eat.
“Yea, that’s what I thought.” You glanced up your door as someone knocked at it and Tink instantly abandoned her meal. Her vicious growls and barks echoed in your 19 foot long, Scamp trailer as you reached up to grab one of the many guns you owned from the cabinet above the stove.
“I suggest ya back the fuck away from my door, now!” You called out as you pulled back the hammer on your gun. You grabbed ahold of Tink’s collar and stepped toward the door.
“Hey. umm… I’m… uh, shit. I follow your blog. Just figured you could use some gas.” Your eyebrows shot to your hairline as you kicked the handle of your door and let it fly open. You kept a firm grip on your dog’s collar and your gun pointed at the three men, who all jumped back when they saw you.
“See this is why I keep the danged map.” Your eyes danced between the three men for a moment before flipping the hammer of your gun up. “Easy Tink. Pas touche.” The second you said the French command for ‘leave it’, Tink laid off and took a seat at your heels with a deep, low growl still rolling in her chest. “Well… damn. If this ain’t the first time I got help from my followers. Come on in y’all.” You scratched behind Tink’s floppy ear and gently pulled her away from the door as the three guys looked at each other and stepped inside ‘the Lagoon’. You moved Tink’s bowl to the corner and set your gun down on the little table beside the chairs you had put in where the dining room table once sat.
“Wow…” The younger guy in the front said as he looked around your small fifth wheel. You had found it by happen stance after you lost your job four years before and it sparked something inside you. You took a year to clean it up, paint and decorate it to resemble a mermaid lagoon and make it more home-like than it was when you got it and you had been on the road ever since then. “It looks just like your videos.” You smirked and nodded as you leaned against your counter.
“I mean, it ain’t like I repaint the damn thing every other video.” You teased. “So y’all know my name. Who are y’all?”
“Tig, sweetheart.” An older, curly haired gentleman said as he stepped around the younger boy with a mohawk and tribal tattoos on his head. You could almost feel the cockiness oozing from  Tig as you took his out stretched hand and shook it firmly.
“You must be the one who found my videos in the first place.” You said sweetly as you looked at the younger man. He nodded and took your offered hand.
“Juice.” He said as a slight blush tinted the tips of his ears. You smiled sweetly and glanced up at the third man that, out of the three rescuers, you would absolutely not mind getting to know a little better if you had the option to.
“Chibs.” He said in a think Scottish accent you weren’t expecting. Your face revealed your surprise as you covered your heart with your hand.
“Well good Lawd will ya listen ta that accent!” You cooed with a sweet, genuine smile. “Betcha worked hard on that one.” You threw him a wink, causing him to blush as well. You looked at the three men and licked your lips. “Well thank ya kindly for helping me out. I’d love to stay and chat but I’m fixin’ ta have ‘bout a three hour drive ahead of me ta the next campground so I can get some laundry done ‘fore sun goes d…”
“We have a washer.” Tig said a little too quickly. He received a smack to the back of the head from Chibs, who cleared his throat.
“What he meant ta say was, if ye don’ wan’ ta race the sun, we’d be happy ta put ye up for the night. We’ve a washer and dryer ye don’t have ta pay for, hot water for a show’a an’ a real bed if ye’d like.”
“Well bless your hearts.” You sighed as you glanced down at Tink. “That actually sounds like heaven. Be able ta get ta bed early for once and give this little mutt a shower where she ain’t gettin’ dirty ‘gain right away. Won’t be much for company, though; Wednesdays are order days an’ I got bunch of them.”
“That’s OK.” Juice said with a nod of his head. You could tell just by the look in his eyes that he was slightly star-struck.
“Just so you know, we’re mechanics as well. If you want, we can look at your truck for you, free of charge.” You glanced over at Tig and smiled.
“Well I’ll take you boys up on that. I’m due for an oil change as is but I ain’t takin’ no free ride. So I guess just lead the way to the nearest gas station an’ I’ll follow y’all the rest of the way.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You drink, luv?” You looked up at Chibs and nodded as you sealed the next envelope and put it in the box you needed to take to the post office.
“I do. Thank you kindly.” You took the beer from him and gestured to the seat next to you with a smile. “I legally have ta let you know that I’m recordin’. Though I’m always recordin’.” You said as you gestured to your laptop in front of you and the GoPro that was attached to the awning you were under. Chibs nodded as he took a seat and glanced up at the camera.
“Don’ ye get tired of cameras in yer face all the time?” He asked. You took a swig of your beer as you pulled up the next order for the crystals you sold on your laptop and laughed with a shake of your head.
“I’ve had cameras in my damn face for three years. I’m so used to it now I don’t even notice it.” You glanced over at him as you grabbed the box of Obsidian spheres and the box of Lapis spheres you had picked up to sell in Arizona from the tote box beside you. “It’s how I make money.” He cocked his eyebrow as he leaned back in the chair, jumping a bit when Tink pressed her nose against his elbow to get loved on.
“How do ye make money recordin’ yerself?” You glanced up at him and smiled as he scratched Tink on the top of her head.
“Lots’a different ways. Like right now, if I post this part of my week on Sunday’s video, I’m promotin’ the fact that I’m sellin’ crystals. I buy them ‘round the country and people flock ta them like bees ta flowers.” He chuckled at your analogy as you closed the shipping box and taped the shipping label to the top. “And I got companies that sponsor me for this an’ that.” You flicked your Mossy Oak ball cap to make a point.
“I wear their gear, promotin’ their business. My followers see that an’ they’re more likely ta buy their stuff. Ain’t much money in that; ten bucks here, five there but it adds up. I also write reviews on products I try out. Companies send me things ta try an’ pay me a few bucks to mention them an’ their products in my videos. I write those reviews up on Mondays and update my blog those days.” You shrugged as you closed the next envelope and grabbed the label.
“Travelin’ round the states ain’t just drivin’ ‘round. I work forty hours a week jus’ like everyone else. I just do it outta my truck.” You smiled as you grabbed the next box of tumbled stones you needed. “I do tutorials when I fix my RV or redecorate. I do yoga videos few times a month when I find a nice lake or some cool mountains and shit for a background. That’s what got me popular in the first place. Bein’ half naked in yoga videos an’ makin’ fun’a myself doin’ stupid shit when I drive. I called companies ta get sponsored way I do. But in the three years I’ve been doin’ this, I’ve been ta every national park few times and have met so many amazing people. I get ta see the United States in’a way ain’t many people get ta. An’ while it’s a pain in the ass ta live in a small RV sometimes, I ain’t gunna trade it for nothin’.”
“Sounds like a lot of fun, luv.” You smiled and nodded as you added another finished box to the rest.
“It is. I enjoy it more’n anythin’.”
“Wha’ made ye take off on the road in the first place?” You couldn’t help but pinch your lips together as you shook your head.
“Ain’t a story worth tellin’.” He nodded as you reached out, grabbed your beer and changed the subject. “How’s my truck?”
“Oil’s changed. Opie… one of the lads works ‘ere, is gettin’ a new radiate’a ‘ose. Yers woulda givin’ ye some trouble ‘bout a month or so. Rotated the tires for ye as well. And no, ye ain’t payin’ for shite.” Your jaw snapped closed and you scowled.
“Well thank you. That helps more than y’all ever know.” He tipped his head toward you as you tossed the last package into the box going to the post office. With a sigh, you glanced over at Tink, who was laying on her back in heaven, getting her belly rubbed. “Hey traitor. Wanna go get the clothes?” She twisted her body the slightest bit and huffed at you as Chibs pulled his hand away. With a grumble, she stretched and rolled over to her side, almost defiantly. You glanced up at Chibs and held your finger up with a smile. “You want a bath?” Almost instantly, she jumped to her feet and looked at you as her tail started wagging against the side of Chibs’ chair. You looked up at the man and smiled. “Wanna point me in the direction of a shower ‘fore I start laundry… maybe conserve water with me?” He smirked and nodded his head as he got up from the chair.
“I think tha’ can be arranged, luv.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Is it just me or does (Y/N) look like she’s putting on a little weight?”
“Getting a little puffy around the middle.”
“Love this view! Wish I could do what you do!”
“Stop hating on (Y/N)! Love that top, gurl. Going to get one myself, now!”
“Get it girl! Fuck the haters, you’re gorgeous!”
“Damn. Puffy or not, I wish I had a body like that.”
Your brow furrowed as you skimmed through the comments section of the most recent yoga video you posted by Lake McDonald in Montana.
“Puffy?! I ain’t puffy!” You said as you glanced down at your stomach. You had absolutely put on a few pounds in the past few weeks but you didn’t realize it was so noticeable. You glanced over at Tink as the two of you got some summer sun at a small campground in Montana. “Am I puffy, Tink?” She responded with a single, low ‘woof’ and you rolled your eyes. “Shut up.” You closed your YouTube app and set your phone down on your little table; trading it for a glass of sweet tea. You glanced at the liquid for a moment, trying to figure out what you had been eating the past few weeks that could have put weight on like you did.
You hadn’t been eating any different, sticking to chicken mostly because it was easy to freeze and easier to store in your small freezer. You didn’t eat many sweets because you couldn’t justify not sharing them with Tinkerbell and she didn’t need them either. The only real sugar you had was in your tea… You sat up slowly as you mentally ran through your grocery bills the past few months. Your stomach turned almost painfully as you realized ‘tampons’ hadn’t been added to the list in a while.
“Oh, son of’a bitch.” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself before standing up and grabbing your chair. Tink jumped to her feet, knowing the rules that she was supposed to stay at your heels at all times in campgrounds and followed you toward your camper. “Smart move, (Y/N).” You mumbled to yourself as you secured your ‘porch’ belongings inside and closed and locked the door. “Condoms, you moron. Condoms.” You grabbed your truck keys off the back tire and headed to the passenger side of your vehicle. You continued to grumble as you helped Tink into her seat and clipped her harness onto her broad chest.
“There's a tree stump in a Louisiana swamp with a higher IQ than me right now.” You grumbled as you headed over to the driver side and climbed in. You snatched the GoPro from your dash and dropped it in the middle console, not wanting to deal with filming yourself on the way to the store to get a pregnancy test.
——
Four pregnancy tests, a trip to the local walk-in clinic and an ultrasound later, you found yourself, absolutely, 100%, 14 weeks pregnant. You laid in your bed that night, staring out the sky roof you had installed yourself the year before at the star dappled night sky, running scenarios through your head of what to do.
You didn’t have a home to go back to, your permanent address was a PO box in your home town of Boone, North Carolina. The only family you had was an older, half sister that couldn’t stand the sight or though of you since, in her book, you were to blame for her mother dying during child birth. Your father dipped out when you were still in the hospital nursery and you had been in and out of foster care since you were a baby.
You made enough money on the road and had enough in your savings account that raising a baby on your own on the road wasn’t a big deal financially but then you’d be raising a baby on your own on the road. That in and of itself was a whole other beast to tackle. With your job choice, your child would be in the spot light from birth. Eventually, his or her father was bound to find out and would probably want to try to put a stop to it.
But your child would be raised to love the country and be respectful to the environment. It would see the beauties of the world most children didn’t get a chance to see. Sure, it would slow you down on the road a bit but in all honestly, where were you in a hurry to get to anyways? You lived day by day, staying in places for a day or a week at a time. It was entirely up to you. It would also open you up to new business opportunities as well… not that that was the sole reason to keep your baby.
It would give you the chance to meet even more people around the country and maybe even joining one of the many groups that traveled around together. But keeping the child meant home schooling and more bills per month. Couponing a little more hardcore than you already did could help that. You knew enough people on the road as is that getting hand me downs from other families would be easy.
You rolled on your side and looked at Tink, who was peacefully snoring away. With a baby, you would have to consider getting a bigger RV or adjust maybe just the current layout. Tink would have to get used to sleeping on the floor or at least down by your feet since she was spoiled. Eventually, you would have to turn the back area where you had the chairs you didn’t really use into a toddler bed.
A smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you though about having a baby. Watching her walk for the first time in the waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Helping him learn to read in the summer sun by Lake Tahoe. Sure it wouldn’t be easy by any stretch of the imagination… but at the end of the day, it would be worth it. You sat up and grabbed your phone as you flipped on the light on your bed. Tink opened her eye to see what you were doing just as you snapped a photo of her. With a grumble, she put her paws over her eyes and huffed lazily as you took the photo you really wanted and began to edit it. Half hour later, when you were completely satisfied, you added the photo to your Instagram without thinking of any consequences.
@TinktravelstheUSA- Mommy is so mean to me! She’s bringing a cryin’ little monster into my home for Christmas. I protest this new development, mommy. Babies suck!
Baby (Y/L/N) due in early December! Mommy-to-be and big sister, Tink are super excited to share the beautiful world with their little bundle of joy!
Within seconds of you uploading the photo of Tink with a drawn ‘future big sister’ hat, the comments and likes started rolling in. Congratulations and well wishes poured in with the peppered in negative comment here and there. They were always expected from people who didn’t agree with your lifestyle choices or others that were jealous for one reason or another. You smiled broadly at your decision and put your phone into do not disturb mode before climbing under your blankets to call it a night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey Chibs. You’re gunna wanna see this, man.”
“Kinda busy a’ the moment, Juicy.” Chibs called out as he held the starter he was replacing in place. He got the first screw tightened in place before he was pulled out from under the car by his ankle. “The bloody ‘ell…” His words sputtered to a stop as he stared at the instagram photo you had posted the week before of you doing a handstand by a lake you found in Buffalo Bill state park in Wyoming outside of Yellowstone and it was beyond obvious that you were five months pregnant.
“With everything going on, I haven’t been keeping up with her posts…” Juice couldn’t finish as Chibs ripped the laptop from his hands. He walked over and set it down on the work bench in the back of the garage.
“I need ta talk ta ‘er. ‘ow do I talk ta ‘er?!” He shouted as he clicked on the arrow beside the photo. He didn’t know whether to be happy or pissed as looked at the photo of your dog, resting her head on your baby bump protectively by the same lake. “Moth’a christ.”
“We can send her a message but I don’t know if when she’d see it…”
“Tha’s m’child, Juice!” He shouted as he started to shake violently. “Ahhh, fuck tha’s m’child.” Tears welled in his eyes as he grabbed onto the table edge in front of him for a moment. His stomach rolled and he ran to the trash can in the corner.
“Hell’s wrong with him?” Gemma asked as she stepped out of the office. Juice turned the laptop toward her as Half Sack ran toward the club house for a wet washcloth and some Jameson.
“Remember that girl with the dog who parked her RV here for a night like six months ago? Yea, she’s pregnant.” Gemma quickly came out of the office and headed over to the computer as Chibs sunk down into a corner.
“How do you know it’s yours? This gash could just want…” She started as she put on her reading glasses and looked at the photo.
“‘cause I was the first man she slept wit’ in a year.” Chibs groaned as he closed his eyes in an attempt to stop the headache that was beginning to pound in his skull.
“She had a thing for his accent. And she’s not after money or she would have messaged me to find Chibs. I stumbled on this myself. Don’t think she would have ever told him…” Chibs instantly lurched to his feet and got sick again, causing both Gemma and juice to cringe.
“Alright, get him into the clubhouse. No one needs to see this.” Juice nodded as he closed his his laptop and headed over to grab his best friend.
“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you inside.” Juice said as he helped Chibs to his feet.
“M’child. I’m gon’ be a father.” He muttered as he stumbled along, too stunned to say much anything else. “Fuck, Juice. M’child.”
“I know, buddy. I know. We’ll figure it out.”
Part 2
41 notes · View notes
solastia · 7 years
Text
Faith | 2
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Chapters:  [1] [2] [3] [4]
Pairing: Namjoon X Reader
Word Count: 3,569
Genre & Warnings: Fluff & Smut....and ANGST. I’M SORRY. 
Notes: This chapter seems a bit fragmented because it takes place over the period of a year. I wanted to show how good and cute they were together. 
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“Where are your pants?”
You glance up from your movie to see Namjoon had let himself in again. This was slowly becoming the norm over the past month that you’d been seeing each other, and you found that it didn’t bother you in the slightest. In fact, you were pretty sure it gave you those warm, tingly, butterfly feelings everyone always went on about. 
“I’m sorry, sir, but in this household, we follow a no pants rule. The only exception is pajamas or if we have to wear pants to leave the apartment.” You pat the empty seat next to you on the couch and watch as he kicks off his shoes and pants before dropping into it, obviously exhausted. 
Another habit he’d developed over the past month was practically living in your apartment. He still went back to his place from time to time, mostly to get more clothes. However, he always came back here, and it was always the first place he’d go after work. You were already living like an old married couple, and you hadn’t even started calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend yet. 
“Hard day?” You lean in and peck the back of his neck as you massage his shoulders. He moans loud and dramatically, leaning into your touch. 
“Yeah. Construction is no joke.” He mumbles, looking down at his hands. 
Following his gaze, you see several blisters and chipped nails. You jump up and run to the bathroom, coming back with a bottle of aloe vera gel. Grabbing his large hand, you begin to slowly massage the gel in, taking care around the blisters. Namjoon sighed and leaned into the back of the couch with a small smile. 
“You’re too good to me, baby.” He whispers softly, and you smile up at him, shrugging. 
“It’s the least I can do. Maybe someday, when you’re a rich and famous rapper, you’ll think of me whenever you get some fancy Swiss Masseuse.” 
“Baby, when I’m a rich and famous rapper, we’ll be getting those fancy ass couple massages with the rocks.” 
You can’t help but internally squeal every time he says “We.” He uses it so often, especially when he’s talking about the future, and you wonder if he even realizes how it sounds. 
You were about to respond when you were interrupted by a tiny bark. 
Namjoon shot up and looked around, before looking at you in confusion. 
“What was that?” 
You grin sheepishly, before going over to the box that was next to your television. Pulling out the gray pitbull puppy, you use his little paw to wave at Namjoon. 
“Hello, large human. I am still unnamed male puppy. Pleased to meet you.” 
“Why do we have a dog? We didn’t have a dog before I left.”
“Yeah, well, get with the times. Things change. Ugh, you’re just another old guy who doesn’t wanna accept that the world is changing.”
“1, You’re older than me. 2, You still haven’t told me why we now have a dog.”
“You know Mike, the homeless guy that I always give my cans to? When he came to pick them up today, he had this little guy with him. He thought I might be able to take him in. Apparently, he was in a trash can. Like, a really big one. Meaning someone tried to literally throw him away.” 
“Holy shit, that’s fucked up! Gimme.” Namjoon reaches his arms out for the wriggling puppy, placing him on his chest as he leans back. 
“What’s up little guy? I’m your Dad.” 
“You’re his what?”
“What? Did you think I’d let you be a single parent?” He answers without even looking at you, petting the dog behind the ears. 
 You scoff at him. He really was adorable. 
“We have to give him a badass name, babe. Like, Tupac, or Nas.” 
“Does it have to be a rapper?” You whine, knowing that you’ll end up giving in anyway. Anything to see the dimples. 
“It doesn’t have to, but there are some cool names there. What about Snoop? You like Snoopy, I like Snoop Dogg.” 
You smile and kiss his forehead, dodging the puppy’s tongue coming after your face. 
“It’s perfect.” 
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It was your two month anniversary. You were all set to surprise Namjoon with a nice romantic dinner tonight, maybe have some wild and crazy sex, and just have a wonderful day. Only, now you were walking home, dejected because you’d just lost your job. 
You’d been working as a waitress at a little restaurant for almost three years. They’d been promising you more hours for months, only to finally tell you today that they just weren’t making enough to have as many employees as they did. So, you were let go, along with three other people. 
You were so worried about what you were going to do. You didn’t have any savings because that was damn near impossible to do when you live paycheck to paycheck. Unless you found another job in the next two days, you weren’t going to have enough to pay rent, let alone feed yourself or Snoop. 
As you walk up to your apartment door, you can hear Snoop on the other side of it, sniffing and scratching at the door in his excitement to see you. You hoped Namjoon would be willing to take him for a bit if you had to leave your apartment. 
You open your door and Snoop starts jumping around you in excitement. The smells of Chinese food surround you, rap blaring from the kitchen as Namjoon is putting the contents of the containers onto plates. There was even a big bouquet of flowers sitting on the table. He looks up, smiling widely at you, and you melt a little. This was just so...domestic. 
“Hey there, Baby Girl. I had THE BEST show today. We sold out every ticket to get in the club. To see ME! I’m going to perform again next weekend, so make sure you get some time off. I want you to come see me so you can be proud of your man.” He’s talking so fast and he’s so excited. You really don’t want to ruin his mood, but his talk of taking time off reminds you of your dilemma. You watch as Namjoon notices your tears and his smile dims, making you feel guilty. He rushes over and grabs your cheeks between his large hands. 
“What’s wrong, Y/N? Did you not want me to let myself in when you’re gone? I’m sorry. I just wanted to surprise you.” He looks so worried and embarrassed, you feel bad for freaking him out. 
“No, it’s fine. I just had a hard day, and this was a nice sight to come home to.” 
“What happened?” He asked softly, picking you up and settling you into his lap as he sits on the couch. You lean in with a sigh, tucking your head under his chin. 
“They let me go. Now I’m going to have to...I don’t even know. I need to find another job as quickly as possible or I won’t be able to pay rent. I might end up having to have you keep Snoop with you for a while, while I figure something out. It’s times like these I wish I had decent parents. Although, Alan might let me crash with him for a little while.” 
Namjoon starts twirling a finger into your hair, playing with a curl. 
“OR, I could officially move in and pay the rent myself until you find something.” 
You lift your head to look at him, confused. 
“What? Joonie, I wasn’t asking for money. I don’t need you to do that.” 
“You don’t want me to be here?” His hurt tone had you rolling your eyes. 
“Namjoon, I was going to ask you to move in with me today, after a nice romantic dinner and all that jazz. But, now it would basically be you moving in to support me, and I’m not comfortable with making you do that.” 
“You’re not “Making” me do anything. I offered...no...I told you, I’m moving in. You already said you were planning on asking me anyway. I’m here all the time, use your water, eat your food. It’s about time I pay you back. Besides, what kind of a Father would I be to take Snoop away from his Mother? Not to mention, I’d have the added benefit of having 24/7 access to your body.” He wraps his arms around your stomach, kissing the side of your neck. 
“Woman, do you not understand that your happiness is my number one priority? Damn, I know it’s only been two months, but I love you.” The blush on his face contrasted so cutely with the forceful way he declared it. 
You sigh, leaning back into him. 
“I love you too, Namjoon.”
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“Who the fuck puts peanut butter in the fridge?” You mumble to yourself, pulling out the container you were looking for and slamming it on the counter. Now you’d have to wait for the peanut butter to soften up before you could make a sandwich. And you were so fucking hungry. You’d come home from your new job at the grocery store, tired and starving since you’d not had your lunch. All you wanted to do was have a damn sandwich and go to sleep.
You and Namjoon had been living together now for five months. While most of the time it was great, since he was sweet and thoughtful, there were moments where you wanted to choke the life out of him. Like when he snored so loud he’d wake you from a deep sleep. Or how he NEVER changed the toilet roll. OR PUT PEANUT BUTTER IN THE FRIDGE. 
Grabbing the offending item, you stomp into your bedroom, where a corner had been changed into a little work area for his music. Two pairs of eyes look over at you as you stop in front of them. 
“Uh oh, sis is on a rampage.” Your brother Alan play whispered to Namjoon, the latter looking more worried. Ever since Alan had come over and discovered that you were dating the local rap legend, he’d been hard to kick out. Now he was constantly here, making music with Namjoon. 
“You shut up twerp. And YOU. Properly raised individuals do not put peanut butter in the fridge. I happen to know you were a properly raised individual because I adore your Mother. Do it again and die.” You’re shaking the container in front of Namjoon’s face, while Alan is howling with laughter, falling to the floor. 
“I can see who wears the pants in THIS relationship. Oh, wait, no pants rule.” 
Namjoon gathers you up, peppering kisses all over your face. 
“I’m sorry, baby. I made a sandwich and put it in there without thinking. Forgive me? I love you!” 
He even makes apologizing adorable. How does he expect you to stay mad? 
“It’s fine. I’m just hungry and now I have to wait for it to get soft.” You mumble, trying to act like you’re still pissed so you don’t look ridiculous for giving in too easy. 
He nuzzles his nose in your hair, acting cute. 
“You want me to get you something? How about Pho? You love Pho.” 
“I do love Pho.” You murmur in a cutesy tone.
“OK, Imma go get my baby some Pho. You stay here and get comfy and look pretty.” He smooches your cheek, before throwing on his jeans and leaving the apartment. 
“You guys are disgusting.” Alan huffs, and you throw the container of peanut butter at him.
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You stare at the lines on the little stick in your hand. You guys had always been so careful, but apparently not careful enough. You had just taken five of these stupid stick tests, all of them coming up positive. You were pregnant. 
You look up as you hear Snoop yapping and noises coming from outside the bathroom. Namjoon, now your boyfriend for one whole year, had just come home. 
“BABY! I have some amazing news! Where are you?” Namjoon’s deep voice boomed as he made his way down the hallway. 
You quickly put all the sticks in your tampon box, knowing he’ll never look in there. You splash your face with water, trying to calm down before throwing open the bathroom door. Namjoon is on the edge of the bed, changing his clothes and he gives you the biggest smile you’d ever seen on him yet. You swear you’d never seen his dimples look that deep before. 
“Y/N, love of my life, my shining star. I have the best news in the whole world. You remember how packed it was at my show last week? Well, apparently there were talent scouts there. From a big ass label! Like, I can’t go into details yet, they said, but one of their rappers rhymes with Rake, ya feel me? And they want ME!! They want us to move to New York and they are going to sign me! Baby, we made it!” Namjoon is literally glowing, and you can’t bring yourself to mention the tests. 
“Congratulations, my Joonie. I’ve always had faith in you. I told you that you’d be famous as hell one day.” You force a giggle, not wanting him to catch on that anything was wrong. And truly, you WERE happy for him. No one else in the world deserved this more. 
“Let’s celebrate, Joonie. I’ll take you out for steaks!” You declare, shoving yourself into some jeans and dragging him out. 
You watch him over dinner, excitedly talking about his plans for the future (with a full mouth), and you slowly start to realize...you could never tell him. This was his chance. With his level of talent, you were sure he would be at the top in no time. You were going to have to set him free so he could do achieve his dreams, without worrying about you or what was soon to come. 
When you get home, you climb onto Namjoon’s lap as he lounged on the bed. 
“Namjoon? I need you to make love to me.” 
I’m going to need to savor this for God knows how long. 
“Happy to oblige, miss.” He jokes, pulling you in for a soft, slow kiss. 
You try to memorize every movement he makes with his plush lips. The angle of his head, how he teases the seam of your lips with his tongue to ask for entrance, the way sucks your bottom lip before he pulls away to smirk at you. He moves down to your neck, kissing and sucking on the spot that sports a hickey 90% of the time because he loved it. You silently wondered if it would be too cheesy and weird if you took a picture of it later. Your last love bite.
Namjoon pulls off your shirt and expertly unhooks your bra (Heh), throwing both off the side of the bed. He cups your breasts with his huge hands, gently rubbing your nipples with his thumbs. 
“Babe, have your boobs gotten bigger? They feel heavier, and like, the nipples look darker.” He’s staring intently at your breasts and you scramble to think of an answer. You should have thought about the fact that Namjoon knew your body so well by now. 
“Uh, maybe a little? I’ve been doing lots of chest exercises lately. That might be it. Or it could almost be time for my period.”
You wished. 
He shrugged and leaned over to suck your nipple into his mouth, laving it slowly with his tongue. You sigh and lean your head down to kiss the top of his head, smelling the scent of his citrus shampoo. He works his way down, stroking at your core and finding it already dripping wet. He maneuvers you to lay down and climbs over you. Just as he’s about to enter you, you decided that you want to top, so you push him down and hover over his hard cock. 
You look at his face while he’s watching you. Even after doing this countless times over the past year, he still looks at you like he’s amazed every time. His eyes are blown out and hazy with lust and adoration. He looks down as you hover above him, and his eyes follow when you drip all over his cock.
“Fuck, baby, that is so hot. Ride me, yeah?” He bucks up, trying to enter you, but you raise up even higher to avoid him. 
“How much do you want me, Joonie? Ah, I am so wet I would just slide right on. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You tease, and you know you shouldn’t, considering how you were going to be breaking up with him in the morning. But you had to know. You had to have this memory of Namjoon wanting you so badly that he’d beg for it. 
“Yes, I’d like that. God, I can feel how warm you are like that. Please, Y/N. Please, baby, just ride me. God, I want you so much. I’ll always want you.” He moaned, and you watched as more precum flowed from his tip. Knowing that he liked subbing too would have been useful information to know earlier, you mused. 
Deciding that you’d teased him enough, you slide down his cock slowly, relishing the stretch even though he’d been in you so often. Balancing yourself with your hands on his chest, you ride him, staring into his eyes. You watch as his cheeks start to redden and his breathing hitches. He’s getting close, so you speed up your hips, sliding up and down at a brutal pace. 
“Oh God, I’m going to cum Y/N. Fuck, yes Baby, like that.” He grabs your hips to help, making you go even faster. You can feel yourself getting closer. With a shout of your name, you feel Namjoon fill you up, bucking hard into you. You let yourself fall apart, cumming with him. You fall onto his chest, shaking and sobbing. You bury your face into his neck, and you were sure he felt the tears. He just pets your back in large circles, letting you calm down while his dick slowly softened enough to slide out. 
“It felt that good, huh? Wow, we’re amazing.” He cooed, and you snorted into his neck, before giving it a small kiss, breathing in the scent of post sex, sweaty Namjoon. With a sigh, you slide off of him onto your side of the bed, and he cleans you off with one of the baby wipes that you keep in your nightstand. He tucks you into bed before sliding in himself, pulling you up against his sweaty chest. He falls asleep quickly, the snores that would usually make you want to suffocate him with a pillow suddenly sounding like a lullaby. 
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“You what?” 
Namjoon is staring at you like you’ve lost your mind, and you almost think you have. 
“I can’t go with you to New York. I think you should go by yourself. This is the most amazing opportunity for you, Joonie, and I wouldn’t want to mess it up for you. So you go, become the best, and I’ll be here waiting when the time is right.” 
“So, wait, are you breaking up with me?” Namjoon’s face is so pale, and you’re so damn heartbroken that you want to vomit. 
“Yes. I think it’s for the best.” You whisper, flinching when you hear Namjoon’s indrawn breath. 
“You’re not even willing to TRY? I mean, we could even try long distance, if you’re really so set against moving there?” He pleads, hands out and you back away. 
“No. I made up my mind. I love you so much, and I want you to have everything you’ve ever dreamed of. This is the best way. I have faith that when the time comes, we’ll come back to each other.” You try to contain the tears that you feel building in your eyes, and you avoid looking at him so he doesn’t see them. 
“Y/N, you’re everything I dreamed of.” He whispers, and you sob, running towards the door. You pick up the bag you packed and Snoop’s leash. 
“I’ll be staying at my brother’s until you leave. I...I love you Namjoon.” 
You close the door behind you and let the tears fall as you hear the sounds of his roars and crashing behind it. 
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You’re laying on the hospital bed, sore but happy. You hold the bundle in your arms to your nose, smelling the oddly comforting baby smell. You click refresh on the laptop you were balancing on your thighs, happy to see the video that had finally loaded. It was the first music video of RM, the new rap talent the entire country was talking about. You click play, and watch with silent tears as the love of your life performs passionately about lost love, and you tilt the head of the baby to look at the screen. 
“Look at that sweetie. That’s your Daddy. Isn’t he handsome?” 
The nurse comes in with your paperwork, smiling at the two of you. 
“Here you are, just gotta start getting these all filled out. Do we have a name for our little Princess yet?” 
You smile down at the little face that already looked so much like her father. 
“Her name is Faith.”
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627 notes · View notes
antagonist-chan · 7 years
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The Pets I’ve Had
I suddenly feel like talking about this.
I’ve lived with six pets over the course of my life- three dogs and three cats.
Let’s go in order of acquisition, shall we? Maggie, Tigger, Rox, Red, Glimmer, and Grey.
1: Maggie
Maggie was my household’s first pet, and she was my dog. Sure, my parents were her official owners, but every pet has that one person that they’re closest to, and for Maggie, that was me. Mainly because we grew up together- we got her when I was eight months old, and she was a baby puppy, who still hadn’t grown to full size. We got her when we were moving into our house (my parents and I lived in an apartment for the first eight months of my life, but after that we moved into the house we still live in today)- as we (and by we, I mean my parents, I was an infant) were moving furniture, some neighbor kids came around and explained that their dogs had puppies and they were trying to find homes for them, and they ended up pressuring my Mom into taking her.
Maggie was a weird dog because she wasn’t really big on toys. The reason being that, well, as dogs do, she would often play with my toys, and break them. And she’s get in trouble for it. And she got so guilty over it that she ended up... shunning toys entirely. She didn’t even play with sticks.
Maggie died very suddenly of cancer when I was twelve and she was eleven. And by “suddenly,” I mean that she had been just fine the previous day. Three days after Christmas, she suddenly keeled over, and couldn’t get up. When we took her to the vet, it was discovered that she had a very bad tumor that had burst. Fairly soon before that, my grandparents had had a dog who died of cancer, and after that debacle, my family decided that there wasn’t much point in trying to treat cancer in dogs (it would be expensive, it wouldn’t extend their life much longer, and it would be traumatic for the dog, too), so we decided to put her down.
Extra fun fact: “Maggie” was NOT short for “Margaret.” It was short for “Mogwar, Slayer of Demons.” Dad is a hardcore metalhead, and he came up with the name while he and another one of his metalhead friends were hanging out. Interestingly, “Mogwar” went on to become my Mom’s online name (just like my online name is Antagonist, or my Dad’s online name is Pstscrpt (PostScript without any vowels, because my Dad is ALSO a computer programmer)).
2: Tigger
Tigger is special because I named her. She was a cat, and she was orange, so I said, “It’s Tigger!” and that was her name.
Tigger was fucking evil. You know how I mentioned that all pets had that one person they were especially close to? For Tigger, that was my Mom, but only because she hated Mom slightly less than she hated the rest of us (even though, for a significant chunk of her life, it was my job to feed her).
Unlike with Maggie, Tigger joined us when neither she nor I were babies- Tigger had had a previous owner, and I was three at that point. Her previous owner abandoned her in a terrible way- when they moved away, they just left her behind, not even bothering to find her a family. So, by the time we adopted her, she was kind of halfway-feral.
Now, Tigger hated all of us, but she hated me and Maggie especially. Every time I walked past her, she would hiss, scratch me, and run off. And, since I was three, it was incredibly traumatic. And, unlike most incidents of cats attacking toddlers, I didn’t even bring it on myself- I never hit Tigger, at least as far as I remember, and my parents seem to agree with that.
Anyways, Tigger is why I was afraid of cats for my entire pre-teen life. Even though I knew that all cats weren’t as evil as Tigger when I was slightly older, I was still nervous around them. Whenever I hung out with my Aunt Amanda’s cat, Athena, I would eventually warm up to her enough to start having a good time playing with and petting her, but that would be after ten minutes of reprehension.
Tigger is, so far, our only pet who died on her own rather than being put down- she was old and her body was failing, so we set her up in the bathroom for a week. I was twelve at the time- it had been a year and a half since Maggie died, and about the same amount of time since we had gotten our next pet, Rox (so, Rox knew Tigger for about a year and a half). One day, we were watching a movie, and I got up to use the bathroom, and found her motionless. When I touched her, she was cold. So, I told my parents, and we buried her in the backyard. At the time, I was kind of sad that she died alone, but my parents pointed out that dying alone is what she probably wanted, since she hated all of us.
3: Rox
Rox came into our life just as suddenly as Maggie left us- three days after Maggie died, my Aunt Tracy announced to us that she had a friend who was moving, and that his new home didn’t allow pitbulls, so he was looking for a new home for his dog, Rox. We invited Tracy and this friend over, and he ended up leaving Rox with us.
Rox, like Tigger, was especially close to my Mom. But unlike Tigger, Rox didn’t hate any of us (well, at first he hated our sometimes-roommate, Jody (he was our sometimes-roommate at the time; now, Jody is our full-time roommate and essentially my third parent), but he eventually got used to him). Rox just loved my Mom more than he loved any of the rest of us. He would follow her around and spend as much time as possible cuddling her (luckily for him, at that point in her life, she spent most of her time on the couch, and we let our pets on the couch). We joked frequently that Rox thought of Mom as his mother, but it wasn’t entirely a joke.
We also joked about his name. We ended up “deciding” that Rox was short for Roxy or Roxanne, and would sing “Roxanne” by the Police at him. We also joked that his name was Rox, as in, “Dumb as a box of.”
Because Rox was a fucking dumbass. He was quite possibly the stupidest dog I’ve ever met, and definitely the stupidest we’ve owned. His second favorite person after my Mom was my Grandpa, and one time, while we were over at my Grandparents’ house, Grandpa put on a hat, and Rox flipped his shit. He couldn’t recognize my Grandpa- HIS SECOND-FAVORITE PERSON- when he put on a hat. That is how stupid Rox was. Rox also had no pain sensors- no matter what happened to him, I only ever heard him yelp in pain once. As a show of how both stupid and impervious to pain he was, shortly after we first got him, I was going to let him back into the house, and he was waiting by the door. Maggie was smart enough to back off when the door started opening, but Rox wasn’t- I opened the door so hard that Rox was thrown backwards onto the sidewalk, and it was especially a hard fall because our back door is elevated and you had to climb up stairs to get to it. And yet, Rox just picked himself back up and walked in.
Rox was also the most victimized pet we’ve had- we were his third owners, and we’re pretty sure his first owners abused him, because he had a broken tail when we got him (we were told that his tail got hit by a car, but that makes no sense, so we’re pretty sure it’s a cover story for dog abuse). Also, we think his stupidity may have been caused by brain damage. And he was terrified of cars (which was too bad for him because he needed to be driven places fairly frequently), and we think his abuse had something to do with that. And, while we owned him, he suffered numerous health problems- most notably, he tore his back ACL’s, which left him basically disabled for the rest of his life (we couldn’t take him on walks, he couldn’t walk up long flights of stairs, and he spent even more of his life resting than most dogs). The aftermath of the first ACL tear was the only time I’ve ever heard him yelp- I accidentally leaned too hard on his leg while cuddling him. Beyond that, as I previously mentioned, he seemed to not have pain sensors.
And another way he was the most victimized of our pets- so far, he’s died the youngest. He was three when we got him at the beginning of 2010 (like, literally the beginning- we got him on New Years). He died about a month after the five-year anniversary of us getting him- January of 2015, fairly shortly after I turned seventeen. He was only seven (as opposed to Maggie, who was eleven, and Tigger, who was god knows how old but probably somewhere in the mid-teens). He, like Maggie, died of cancer, but it wasn’t as sudden. However, it WAS a lot more traumatic- I didn’t watch him die, but I did watch him effectively die. When I was getting ready to go to bed, I started petting him... and then he had a seizure. My parents rushed him to the emergency vet, and what they basically said was that the seizure left him brain-dead, and he was put down the next day. I still feel kinda guilty that I was the last thing he saw, since he loved Mom so much.
4: Red
Red was Tigger’s replacement. About a year after Tigger died, when I was thirteen, we got him. He was a baby kitten who was rescued off the streets.
I got over my fear of cats through Red. Red is just... so much better of a cat. Red is why I’m a cat person.
Of course, Red’s favorite person is.... honestly, I’m not sure. Red is fairly equal in distributing affection. If I had to guess, though, I think his favorite is Jody, the roommate.
Of course, Red’s still not a great cat. When we still had Rox, Red seemed to have fairly average intelligence... but when Rox died, we realized that Red only seemed smart because we were comparing him to Rox, the dog who couldn’t recognize you when you put on a hat. Red isn’t nearly as dumb as Rox, but he’s still a fucking idiot.
Also, Red can’t get along with other cats. It’s not that he doesn’t like other cats- he loves other cats! But he gets too friendly and annoys the hell out of other cats. He’s kind of a selfish asshole.
Red is also just... only barely a cat. Rox basically raised him, so Red kinda thinks he’s a dog. He’s more friendly than most cats (but is just as much of a pretentious asshole as other cats; he just likes to be a pretentious asshole in a more friendly way), he likes belly rubs, and he likes his carrier. Yes, seriously. He likes to hang out in his cat carrier. And even other cats’ cat carriers!
Red’s greatest asset is his body. Sure, he’s fat, but he’s one of the cutest, prettiest cats you’ll see, and he’s also exceptionally soft. Mom has given him the nicknames of “Soft,” “Asshole,” and “Our Beautiful Idiot.”
Also, we barely ever call him Red, probably because it took us a while to give him a name- about a week. So, we usually just call him various pet names (such as the aforementioned “Asshole” and “Beautiful Idiot,” but also Cat, Kitten, Kitten-Cat, Baby, and You). And technically, Red is a nickname too- his full name is Morgan Freecat. But everyone calls him Red. Because Shawshank Redemption.
Red is still alive, and probably will be alive for a while longer because he’s only, like, six.
5: Glimmer
Glimmer was Rox’s replacement, but she took longer than Rox did (although not as long as Red did). We got her eight months after Rox died (so, August of 2015). She was less than a year old, so still technically a puppy, but she had already grown to most of her size, she wasn’t really little anymore.
Glimmer is the complete opposite of Rox. She’s black with white spots (as opposed to Rox, who was white with brown spots). She’s energetic and healthy (as opposed to Rox, who was weak and sickly). She’s the smartest dog we’ve ever owned, and possibly the smartest dog I’ve ever met (as opposed to Rox, the dumbass who couldn’t recognize you if you put on a hat). The one way that she IS like Rox is that they are the only two pets who we didn’t name ourselves- we got Glimmer from a shelter, and the shelter had already given her that name.
Glimmer is also close friends with Red, but you wouldn’t tell immediately- Red likes to hiss and growl when he plays with her (which is why we initially assumed that he didn’t like her), which is weird because he never did that with Rox. Their favorite game is “Bitey-face,” where they’ll play-bite each other’s... well, facial areas. Red bites Glimmer’s face, Glimmer bites Red’s head because Red’s head fits in her mouth. However, they’ll also play “Kissy-face,” where Glimmer will lie down and Red will groom her. It’s adorable. This isn’t to say Red always likes Glimmer’s attention- Red does get tired of her. Which is a problem because Glimmer does not get tired of him. You remember how I said all pets have that one favorite person? Yeah, Glimmer’s is Red.
Glimmer is also ridiculously strong. Yesterday, I tried to take her for a walk, and she yanked me down the stairs so hard and fast that I nearly smashed my face on the sidewalk. Very powerful Pupper; do not underestimate.
6: Grey
Grey is the most recent addition to the household, and ironically also the oldest. She’s also the only pet who was neither the first pet of that type or a replacement. We took her in because she needed a home.
See, remember Jody? Well, Grey is his cat (and by extension, Jody is Grey’s favorite person, although my Dad is in close second). Jody also recently divorced his wife. He moved in with us well before he did it, though (she was just kinda hoping it was temporary). Since we already had two pets, and because Jody didn’t want to stress Grey out by moving her, he left her with his wife. However, when he finally showed her divorce papers, she decided that she couldn’t take care of Grey anymore and forced her onto him. So, Grey lives with us now.
Grey also lives exclusively upstairs, and ever since she moved in up there, Red and Glimmer have been banned from upstairs, because Grey hates them both with a passion. Part of her hatred for Red is because Red is just overly-friendly, as mentioned in Red’s area, and part of her hatred for Glimmer is just that Glimmer is, well, a dog, but most of her hatred is just because while Grey is VERY friendly with humans, she does not get along well with other animals period. And, well, Grey is old, so we don’t want to stress her out by forcing her to interact with Red and Glimmer, so we keep them separate.
I don’t know how Jody named her; he’s had Grey longer than he’s known us.
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lovemiamore · 7 years
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Hot Head.
INVOLVED: Mia Blackwell, Tyler Blackwell, Kenya Blackwell, Mekhi Blackwell, & Teresa Cunningham. TIME FRAME: Thursday, January 9th, 2016. LOCATION: Blackwell Home; Miami, Florida. NOTES: Tyler comes home with Teresa in toe and Mia is not happy about seeing the woman.
Tyler parked the car in the driveway and let out a small sigh as he looked over at Teresa. It was now or never, and really not even never because Teresa was already here. So there really was no turning back. “Welcome to our home.” He said gesturing to the residence before them as he slid out the car and moved around to open her door for her, offering her his hand.
Teresa rode beside Tyler silently she had mixed emotions about today, about these two weeks she would partake in the Blackwell home. Licking her lips she watched as they pulled up to the beautiful home. “It’s beautiful” she told him with a nod of her head. As he moved to her side opening her car door she grabbed her carry on and her purse climbing out of the car. “Thank you” she said politely to him as she looked towards the home again. She wasn’t nervous; she was just wise enough to know that this was his plan and his plan alone. Mia had no input in this and if anything she was just mentally preparing herself for the uphill battle.
“You’re welcome.” Tyler said to her softly before he closed the door behind her and moved around to the trunk to get her suitcase. Pulling the bag out with ease, he sat it on the ground before shutting the trunk and moving back around to the side of the car. “Right this way.” He said as he rolled the luggage behind him, leading her towards the front door. Stopping there, he used his key to unlock it before he opened it and gestured for her to step inside first. “Mia, baby.” He called from the doorway.
Teresa watched Tyler grab her things and she moved to fix the scarf around her neck before she followed him nodding. She walked up towards the entrance of the home and she waited as he unlocked the door for them both. Moving inside as he gestured her to she moved in first standing off to the side as he called for Mia. She stood there quietly holding her bags in her hand, holding back a slight smile having not seen her daughter in quite some time.
Mia changed Mekhi swiftly tossing the diaper into the diaper genie before she lifted the chubby baby into her arms. “You made a big stinky boy” she cooed as she rubbed his back bouncing him lightly. “Does your tummy feel better?” she asked him sweetly kissing the side of his face as he lay against her. “Mommy hopes so” she breathed out rubbing his back still and she heard Tyler calling her name and she moved out of the nursery. “Coming!” she called back sweetly. Kenya peered out of the room and she rushed pass Mia moving down the steps towards Tyler. “Daddy’s back” she said running for him. Mia shook her head as she followed behind slowly still talking to Mekhi, the little girl was starving for attention. She had seen Tyler not long ago, and he was only gone for a few moments. So was it necessary for her to run for him, no. Did it tickle her, yes. Mia smirked as she rounded the corner seeing her husband and mother. She blinked slowly before her eyes moved back to Tyler expecting an explanation even without saying it.
Tyler closed the door behind himself, locking it quickly as he heard the pitter patter of Kenya’s feet rushing towards him. Smiling he hoisted her up as she came towards him. “Hey baby girl.” He said kissing her forehead and stroking her hair as he lifted her into his shoulder. When Mia entered the space, Tyler looked to her then to Teresa. “Well…” He said as he looked down at the floor then up at Kenya. Sitting Kenya to her feet, Tyler whispered to her, telling her to go play and that he would be up to play with her soon. As she trotted off, Tyler rubbed the back of his neck. “I can explain…” He said holding his hand up in defense. “Mekhi and Kenya needed to meet their other grandmother.” He said getting straight to the point.
Mia looked to Tyler as he placed their little girl back on her feet, commanding her to go play. She shifted on her feet as she held Mekhi in her arms rocking him slightly at she did. “Hmm” Mia said after Tyler spoke his peace. “So you went behind my back and authorized a visit with Teresa that you know I wouldn’t have approved of and you put it on our children?” she asked him squinting slightly before she turned around slowly moving to walk off with Mekhi in her arms.
Teresa tucked some hair behind her ear swapping glances with Tyler and then Mia. She watched the child come and the child go. She watched Mia with their son and then she watched Tyler explained. All the while never opening her mouth to speak, she knew better of it. At Mia’s words the older woman looking to her blinking as she walked off. Teresa looked back to Tyler again mute, wanting to know what was next to come.
Tyler gazed at Mia watching her reaction and he shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck more. “Mia…” He sighed as she walked out the room and he looked to Teresa. “Please make yourself at home. I’ll handle this.” He told her gently before he ran off behind Mia. “Baby.” He called out as he followed her. Catching up with her, he licked his lips. “Look I know you’re upset but she’s here now and despite how you feel this is important.” He told her.
At his comment she nodded again at him, Teresa moved to find the couch as he ran off. Sitting down on it she sat her bags on the floor. She knew this would happen and she came anyway. She adjusted her jacket a bit opening it up as she sat back. Hearing a noise she turned around to the two large dogs headed her way and her eyes grew wide. She looked around slowly before her eyes moved back to them. As they both made themselves comfortable on the couch beside her she eased away from them slightly, shifting to her left on the couch as she held her breath a bit looking down at the grizzly Pitbulls.
Mia moved back to the child’s room, she looked down to see him fast asleep. “Mekhi has a tummy ache” she breathed as she laid him down in his bed. “Work is backed up. I have six clients this week” she told him turning around. “Kenya has been acting out” she added “and I don’t have time for another body occupying space and time” she breathed leaning against the crib for a moment before she walked away turning on the monitor and walking out of his room. “How could you not ask me Tyler? I think that’s the part I am not understanding” she said angrily.
Tyler listened to Mia with a deep sigh. “I can work whenever I want baby. I can stay with Mekhi and make sure he’s okay and with Teresa here that’s extra hands, extra help.” He told her tenderly, gazing at their son as he laid in his bed before he followed Mia out the room. “Kenya just wants attention; she’s used to being an only child.” He reminded her. “It’s fine.” He said gently. “And your mother is grown. She doesn’t need supervision.” He told her. “I knew you would say no and this is important to me.”
Mia allowed him to talk, going against everything she said and she shook her head. Sadly it was going through one ear and out the other because he knew better, far better than this. In the hallway, she continued to walk gradually headed for their room but at his last set of words she turned around her face hard and gaze strong. “It’s important to you?” she asked him angrily. “Tyler, you know who your got damn mother and father is what in the hell do you mean?” she barked. “How did this become about you?” she asked pointing to him. “You don’t think it’s just a tad bit disrespectful that you’ve gone against my wishes?” she asked him. “I haven’t come to terms with it and I don’t plan on doing it anytime soon. This is hard for me it doesn’t have shit to do with you” she told him.
Tyler looked at Mia as they moved into the hallway and he nodded his head. “Yes, Mia it’s important to me.” He told her licking his lips. Listening to her, Tyler shook his head. “Mia you haven’t come to terms with it because you don’t want to. You want to stew and wallow in your anger.” He told her knowingly. “Just as you haven’t forgiven Jade for not wanting to walk the stage at her graduation.” He told her. “But that’s a whole different issue.” He said as he shifted on his feet. “Regardless of what happened in the past. You know Teresa. She is your mother. You know her.” He told her shaking his head. “You just don’t want to accept it.” He said. “And your refusal to accept it is doing to your children what they did to you.” He told her honestly. King looked over at Teresa, nudging the remote with his nose before using his paw to turn the TV on. He hit two buttons with his paw before he slid the remote back towards Teresa with his nose, turning his gaze towards the television along with Queen.
Mia looked to her husband of twenty days and she squinted her eyes at him she was furious at this point. Because yes he was telling the truth but mainly because she did what she wanted and what she didn’t want to do she didn’t. Mia balled her fist slightly before she walked away from Tyler all together. She opened their bedroom door and walked inside of it willing herself not to slam it off the hinges. Sitting down on their bed she inhaled closing her eyes and exhaled opening them again.
Teresa looked to the large dogs again before she shifted away from them a little more. She licked her lips and watched as the dog turned the tv on. She furrowed her brows still mute as she watched on. She opened her mouth before closing it and she looked around herself again. She was the only seeing this but she had to double check. “O-kay” she breathed out looking off again.
Tyler stood there staring at Mia until she walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. Sighing out he rubbed his hand down his face, slowly he moved back down the steps and greeted Teresa again. “Hey, sorry about that.” He said rubbing his neck once more. “I see you figured out how to turn on the TV,” He chuckled out. “Let me show you to your room.” He told her as he grabbed her suitcase and began leading the way to the guest room on the first floor.
As Tyler moved back down the stairs Teresa looked up at him. “Uh, not quite” she said correcting him. “Uh, he did” she said pointing to the dog with her thumb. “Okay” she replied easily looking back at the dogs before she looked to Tyler grabbing her things. “Is she really upset?” Teresa asked him knowingly. “I can go to a hotel it’s no trouble” she said.
Tyler looked at King, arching his eyebrow before he chuckled. “King?” He asked her with a smirk. “He can’t turn on no TV.” He said shaking his head as he placed his hand on Teresa’s upper back. “Did you have a little liquor on the plane?” He asked her curiously as he led her towards the room. “Yes she’s upset but its fine.” He told her easily as he walked down the hallway towards their largest guest bedroom. “Here you are.” He said opening the door for her. “The sheets are fresh and I’ll grab a few extra towels for you.” He told her with a hum as he walked into the room and slid the suitcase towards the bed. “Mia’s upset but I assure you deep down she’s happy to see you.” He told her gently.
Teresa looked to Tyler before she looked to the dogs “no, no, he actually did” she assured him as she followed him. “Peanuts are just about all I had” she said matter-of-factly. She sighed softly shaking her head a bit. “This is her house too” she breathed out in a whisper. “I don’t want to make her uncomfortable in her own home” she sympathized. “Thanks” she said looking to the room “did she decorate?” she asked looking around, the room was gorgeous. “Okay” she told him as she turned around to look at him sitting her things on the bed. “Somehow I don’t believe that for a second” she chuckled lightly. “She has every right to be upset with me. However her and Jessica… that’s a whole other story. If anything I am here to make that right” she told him honestly.
Tyler smirked shaking his head. “Okay, okay. King turned on the TV.” He said still chuckling. Upon hearing what she’d eaten he had to ask. “Are you hungry? I’m not much of a cook but I can definitely run out and grab you something. I’m sure Mia won’t be cooking tonight.” He said as he rubbed the back of his neck for the umpteenth time. Listening to her, he nodded slowly before a deep sigh passed him. “Listen…” He began before taking a second to gather his thoughts. “I’m almost positive you know Mia better than anyone else. Hell you probably know her better than she knows herself. You two were as close as ever. You know exactly what she needs and what you need to do for her to mend this broken fence.” He said honestly. “She’s stubborn, resentful, and can hold the meanest grudge but at the end of the day you’re her mother and she loves you.” He reminded Teresa with a small hum. “As upset as she might be, that is something that will never change and I’m positive that before you leave here she’ll have forgiven you.” He told her. “Also, yes Mia decorated the entire house from head to toe.” He said with a smile.
Kenya who had been sitting in her room waiting for Tyler quickly grew bored and found herself tip-toeing out of her room and down the steps, following the sound of Tyler’s voice. She stood outside the door, listening quietly before she went running into the room, wrapping herself around Teresa’s leg. “You look like my mommy.” She said smiling a bright smile.
“I am most positive that you don’t need to do that. I could cook” she said giving him a knowing look. Teresa looked to her son-in-law nodding her head as he spoke, he was right. She did know Mia all too well, though her traits did not come from her she knew her and she knew them. “The only way that would work is if she received it” she told Tyler as she licked her lips. “I can only do what I can” she shrugged slightly. “I figured” she replied back to Tyler before the little girl came rushing in and she looked down at her. “I get that a lot” she told her in response, chuckling a little as she did.  
Tyler looked at Teresa before he began smiling. “That works too.” He said licking his lips hungrily. “Make her receive it.” He said as he casually folded his arms over his chest. “She’s has a big heart, despite herself.” He said with a small smile at the thought. Nodding slowly, Tyler looked back as Kenya came running into the room and he shook his head. “Didn’t I tell you to wait in your room?” He asked her with a small chuckle. “I’m so sorry.” He said to Teresa as he pulled the little girl off of her leg and into his arms. “Teresa this is my daughter Kenya, Kenya this is your grandmother.” He told them both with a smile.
Kenya looked up at Teresa with a bright smile before her eyes moved to Tyler and she pouted. “I got bored.” She voiced as he lifted her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Looking back at Teresa, Kenya’s smile grew even more. “Grandma,” she said as she reached her hands out for Teresa to hold her.
She was practically being chastised by her daughter’s husband and she tucked her lips in quietly listening to him. “You are right” she told him softly. She adjusted the scarf around her neck a bit. As Tyler picked the large child up she smirked at her. “Hi Kenya” Teresa said gently. “Oh I am much too young to be a grandmother. But you can call me glam-ma” she breathed out accepting the offer and holding Kenya close to her. Teresa smirked at her “you are absolutely gorgeous” she breathed out. “I actually have something for you” she told her with bright eyes. She sat the child on the bed and she moved to her carry on bring out a decorative box from her restaurant. “Ribbon candy” she smiled. “I made it myself, very, very hard to make. But very, very good in taste” she told her opening up the box for Kenya to see. “I am sure mommy and daddy will get a kick out of you being hyped on sugar” she laughed softly sitting next to Kenya. “Your mommy use to love these when she was your age” she told her.
Tyler nodded slowly at Teresa, adjusting Kenya in his arms a little before he handed the child over, watching the two of them interact. Looking at Teresa he chuckled. “Glam-ma is it.” He said with a smile. Tyler stood back, watching the two of them, his heart just about melting at the sight. However, when Teresa pulled out the box of ribbon candy he shook his head. “Oh God.” He mumbled to himself, pressing his fist into his mouth. “Only one piece of candy tonight Kenya.” He told her sternly.
Kenya smiled at Teresa. “Glam-ma.” She said slowly, testing it out as it rolled off her tongue. As Teresa sat her on the bed, she kicked her long legs back and forth, excited for her gift. “Ohhhh.” She said enamored when Teresa showed her the candy in the box. “It’s pretty.” She said with wide-eyes as she reached for a piece before she looked up at Tyler and quickly retracted her hand. “Just one?” She asked with a sad expression.
Teresa looked to Tyler “what daddy said” she added in there quickly before she laughed. “I have something for the baby as well” she told him bringing out the wrapped gift. “I didn’t know what really to get considering. But I did get something, I felt obligated to. I missed an entire gender reveal, baby shower, and birth” she said sadly. “So I hope you guys like it or can at least use it” she told him handing the box over. “It’s something for him, like a lounger I think. I am horrible at gifts but I thought it was cute” she said with a smile.
Kenya looked between the two of them, before she pouted even harder. “Really?” She asked her big brown eyes shifting between the two of them sadly. Finally she relented and nodded her head. “I’ll eat one later.” She said in a whisper.
Tyler nodded at Kenya. “Just one.” He repeated, happy that Teresa was onboard with him. “Really?” He asked her as he accepted the gift with a smile. “I’m sure whatever it is he’ll love it.” He said with a smile. “He’s very easily pleased…” He said with a chuckle before he added. “Unlike someone else we know.” He said nodded his head towards Kenya with a laugh. “We actually didn’t have a baby shower or a reveal.” He admitted. “So this is great.”
“Aw, I can’t wait to actually see him and hold him. From what I saw for that split second he’s adorable. Splitting image of you” she said pointing to Tyler. Teresa looked to Kenya rubbing her shoulders gently “it’ll be okay pumpkin” she told her sympathetically. “Aw, that’s too bad. Why not?” she asked him curiously. “She did… know she was pregnant right” she said seriously, it was still hard to believe Mia went nine whole months without telling her.
Tyler nodded slowly, chuckling. “He’s asleep right now but the moment he wakes up he’s all yours.” He told her with a content hum. “Really?” He said in shock, eyebrows rising. “We think he looks more like Mia.” He said honestly. Sitting on the bed as well, Tyler shrugged. “We aren’t really flashy people.” He admitted. “We didn’t want any big parties or the whole shebang.” He told her. “This was for us. Not for anyone else.” He said thinking it over for the first time. “He’s our gift and at the time we really didn’t want to share that joy with anyone else.” At Teresa’s next statement, Tyler’s eyebrow rose once more and he nodded. “Yeah she knew.” He said, not sure if he should be offended. “We were trying to get pregnant and after a while we just stopped trying and boom, but yeah we knew.” He told her.
Teresa nodded listening to Tyler and she smiled. “Oh, okay. Makes sense” she told him understandingly. “I just figured, she went nine months without telling me maybe she didn’t know the entire time herself” she said as she looked down at Kenya again.
Tyler shook his head. “No that’s just that stubbornness again.” He said to her admittedly. “There was a lot going on, on top of her finding out that you’re her real mother.” He explained tenderly, thinking about her miscarriage. He sighed sadly and shook his head clear.
Kenya sat quietly, kicking her long legs back and forth as she eyed the box of candy with a lick of her lips.
Teresa rested her hands in her lap as she nodded “I am sure” she told him before she looked around slowly. “Well…” she breathed out. “Its fine, its water under the bridge now for me” she admitted.
Tyler licked his lips as he stood up slowly, picking Kenya up off the bed. “Yeah…” He said softly. “Well I’m going to leave you to get settled. Our room is just right up stairs if you need anything. The kitchen is directly across from the living room. Make yourself at home.” He told her as he grabbed Kenya’s candy and Mekhi’s gift, slowly moving to exit the room. 
Teresa nodded her head at him as he collected the child and the gifts she purchased. “Okay, thank again” she told him as he moved to leave. She watched him go before she looked around sitting back a bit on the bed. She licked her lips as she lay back gently against the pillows, looking up at the ceiling. It was a long flight and she was tired. She closed her eyes gently exhaling slowly as she did.
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wgfjmj758-blog · 5 years
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How much should a 17 year old s car insurance cost in the UK?
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sherryandbelle-blog · 7 years
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Sherry and Belle: Chapter 6
Sherry passed a few stacked papers to a father and his son, the same two from the storm clean up incident, "Do ya want ta give 'im a name?" the boss kindly asked the boy. He looked down at the white pitbull pup with a loving gaze, "Piggy. 'Cause he has a pink nose!" the father smiled at his boy, then passed the sighed slip back while rolling up the rest. "How about 'buddy'? That way the real pigs don't think yer tryin' to call THEM into the house." The son happily nodded in agreement, then sat up off of the scratchy office carpet, bright red leash firmly in hand. "Thank ya, Mrs. Autumn, and thank ya again, Belle. This little guy wouldn't be runnin' 'round like 'e is now if it weren't for ya." The father warmly smiled at the two behind the office desk; Belle gratefully nodded as the family walked through the metal door. Sherry waited for a few long moments, then sighed in relief as she heard the duo start to pull out of the gravel driveway, {Ugh, this office STILL reeks o' wet dog from the storm.} the woman reflected as she stood from the hard, plastic chair behind her desk. "Wait, ARE you a missus-" "Nope! Let's go walk the dogs." Sherry promptly directed Belle down the concrete stairs, and into the kennel area; the dogs had all pretty much finished their water, so it was time for a morning walk before their meals. The boss grabbed a small handful of leashes, tossing half of them to the boy, who leashed up a couple of smaller dogs, then approached Pansy, who would usually jump up to greet folks. The woman walked over to the somewhat concerned looking boy, examining the pregnant dog, who only gratified her visitors with a vacant glance, before laying her head back down onto the cold floor. "She did not drink any of her water." Belle informed Sherry, "Maybe she's just not fully awake yet, we can pick 'er up on a later walk." the boy nodded, then went over and leashed the dog in the cage next to Pansy's. The two took the small pack of dogs outside, leisurely taking them around the building several times, before returning them to their respective cages; they continued to repeat the process, until it was Pansy's turn. "Come on, Pansy." The boy looked over his shoulder at Sherry, then back to the depressed looking dog, "Hey... why don't ya go feed the other dogs while I 'ave a look at 'er." the woman watched Belle give a defeated nod, before trudging over to the dog food. "What's wrong, girl?" The German shepherd slowly looked up with big, sad eyes; Sherry then noticed the dog's shallow, rapid breathing, {Uh oh.}. The boss quietly slipped through the metal door, dialing a nearby vet as she walked up into the office, "Hello, how may I help ya?" "Hey, it's Sherry. I think I might 'ave a sick dog at the shelter." "Yeesh... yer lucky, if you 'ad called me a bit later, I would've only been able ta visit ya early in the night. Be right over-" "MS. AUTAMN!!!" Sherry quickly hung up, then sprinted down the stairs. Belle was on his knees just outside of Pansy's cage, with the dog collapsed right in front of him, "Wha-" "I went to give her food, but she tried to run, shortly before collapsing!" Belle was trembling as he spoke. The woman stared over at the pregnant dog's cage, which had a large bag of dog food spilled out inside of it, before looking back at the unconscious dog. "I called a vet to come see 'er, it's okay." Sherry tried to reassure the boy, but he still looked devastated.                                                ●●● Belle rolled his food around on his plate with a couple of chopsticks, {Darn, I thought bringin' 'im ta dinner might cheer 'im up... guess that's not the case, though.} Sherry glanced at the boy's distant, blue eyes, before staring back at her stir fried vegetables. "What if she doesn't return to good health before she has the chance to bare her young?" Belle abruptly asked, his blank stare still piercing his nearly untouched meal. "Well, she's  with the vet now; she's in good hands, I assure ya." The woman watched as he lightly smiled, "Now go ahead an' eat, that clam stir fry ain't cheap, y'know." the boy nodded, then began attempting to use his chopsticks as actual eating utensils. "Welcome to 'Woks of Life', how is your food this evening?" A male waiter politely asked as he walked by, "It is pleasant." Belle noted, Sherry just gave a nod in agreement, seemingly satisfying the worker. "So..." The boy waited for the worker to leave before speaking again, "What will happen to Pansy's young if she pulls through?" the boss lightly smiled, "Well, when they're old 'nough, they'll be adopted, just like the other dogs, though puppies tend to sell a lot better than the older ones." she explained. "How did you come to own her?" Belle asked, before beginning to stuff his face, "A small family adopted her from a German shepard breeder; they moved into this area, and eventually learned that they couldn't afford ta take care of 'er, so they dropped her off in a random neighborhood. Jerald and David found her starving during a clean up, and together, we nursed her back to health. Later we learned that she was pregnant, and the locals filled us in on the rest; she's a very sweet dog despite what she went through.". "Wow... does every dog you own have a story like that?" He curiously pondered, "Eh, not quite. Several of 'em were transferred to my shelter due to another shelter bein' too backed up, some were directly given to me, but a few have some stories." Sherry placed a twenty on the bill as it arrived, then a few ones as a tip, before standing to stretch. "Thank you for the meal." Belle quickly stood up and thanked a random waiter, before the two left the small restaurant. "Darn..." The woman muttered as she unlocked her truck, "What is it, Ms. Autumn?" "I needed ta get another tin o' coffee today, but it slipped my mind." She sighed, starting her vehicle, and lighting up half of the small parking lot with her headlights. "Why not retrieve some from the convenience store on the way home?" "Well, this ain't the greatest part of town, but I s'ppose if it's just in and out..." Sherry nodded, then began driving toward the nearest grocer that was open at that time of night. She pulled her red truck into a small, unkempt parking lot, before staring at her steering wheel for a few seconds, "I could get the coffee if you do not want to." Belle offered. "Oh, ya sure?" The boy happily nodded, "I remember what brand you had on your counter, as well. I will be right back." he hopped out and closed the door behind him, leaving Sherry in the dark parking lot. She turned her truck off, then leaned back in her seat, {I should make that kid breakfast tomorrow. I still have about half a pack of bacon left in the fridge at home, and I'm sure I have close to a full carton of eggs... heck, I'll even make stuffed hash browns, I'll show 'im some REAL American cookin'-} Sherry shuttered as someone knocked on her driver side window. "Hey... do ya h've any sp're change?" A foul reeking man asked expectantly, "N-no." She went to quickly roll her window back up, but the man forcefully grabbed the top of it. "Get out." He ordered, and as if on cue, two more figures walked out of the darkness surrounding the edge of the parking lot, one, Sherry noticed, had a sleek, metallic object partially hidden in his grasp. The woman stared in horror as the first mugger slowly began opening her door, "NO!!!" she snapped out of her trance, clasping onto her door handle, and forcing the door back shut with both hands. "OPEN UP!!!" The hideous man shouted in an abrupt fury, tightening his grasp on both the slightly shut window, and the door handle, shaking the entire vehicle as he tried to pull the door open. A painful shriek came out of Sherry as the two larger men circled the front of the rocking truck, opening the passenger door, and beginning to climb inside. "NO NO!!! STOP!!!" The petrified woman loudly cried out as one of the men tightly grabbed her right arm, a crusty knife was loosely held in his other hand. "HEY!!!" An infuriated voice roared out, followed by a tall figure body slamming the man by the passenger door to the hard ground. Sherry watched in shock as Belle suddenly clamped his hand around the assailant's wrist, viciously tearing him out of the vehicle and shoving him to the pavement, slamming the door afterwards. The woman caught a look of severe annoyance off of Belle's face as he stormed past the front of the truck, before ripping the scrawny man off of the driver side door by the back of his neck, and quickly placed him in a full Nelson. The two larger men stumbled up and immediately booked it out of sight as the sound of police sirens began growing closer; the first man desperately tried to squirm away, but the boy only tightened his grip. Sherry breathed a small sigh of relief as two Amarillo police cars pulled into the parking lot, completely illuminating the area in red and blue light. A store employee rushed out of the front doors, a plastic bag containing a good sized tin was clenched in one of his hands, a lit up cell phone was in the other. The filthy man suddenly slipped out of Belle's grasp, making a beeline away from the parking lot, only for two police officers to hop out of one cruiser, and sprint after him.                                                ●●● Sherry slowly pulled into her driveway, staring at her steering wheel for a few seconds, before taking the keys out of her truck, and hopping out, only to get stuck staring at her feet. "Sorry about what happened..." Belle nervously approached the stunned woman, "N-no... thank you." she slowly looked up at her dark house, then began trudging toward the front door. "D... do you want me to place the coffee next to the coffee pot?" The boy asked in a sweetly soft voice once they entered the living room, Sherry nodded, then gazed up at the stairs, "I'm... goin' ta go to sleep." she said in a deflated tone, before leaving the guest downstairs.
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