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spicywhenspeaking · 4 months

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If I'm There: Chapter Twenty-One

when you realize the significance of the monkey (∩˃о˂∩)♡

read from part one here!

summary: Noah and Natalie met in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams the things we love the most get left behind.

this is a complete work of fiction, some characters while based on real people are totally made up. :)

word count: 3.6k , edited by me ....soooo if you see something spelt wrong no you didn't.

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount @blackveilomens @thisbicc @laurpartyprogram @concretenoah @thebadchic @jessitpwk @madomens @samanthasgone @myownthoughts12

I picked up Erin from Ashely’s house at around 10 am the following morning. I don’t think anything will ever compare to her seeing me and running with excitement into my arms for a big hug. I just hope she still feels that way later today when I tell her about Noah.

“I missed you Mom!” she calls out and I pick her up and swing us around in a circle. “Oh my sweet girl, I missed you so much!” I tell her and kiss all over her cheeks and the top of her head. We finish gathering her things and thank Ashely and her mom again before we eventually get into the car and head off to begin our girls’ day. “So nails first or food? How are you feeling?” I ask as I turn on the radio and begin backing out of the driveway.

“FOOD! Please! We only had cereal for breakfast and you know I need more than that.” I laugh because I know exactly that. My girl can eat! “Okay, so first food and then nails!” I say, then reach over to turn up the radio when I hear “Dancing Queen” by ABBA come on. We sing our hearts out on the drive to our favorite breakfast spot near our house. We sit in our regular corner booth by the back window. I order a coffee and a full stack of pancakes with eggs and bacon. Erin orders an orange juice and the same amount of food and I know she’ll finish it all. She recaps me on the last two days and all the fun she had with her friend, “but I missed you and Hales a lot. I’m happy to be back home now.” she says stuffing a huge piece of pancake into her mouth. “I’m happy you’re home too little bug, but why don't you take smaller bites? I don’t need you choking thirty minutes after getting you back.” She smiles with her mouth full of food, “okay” her muffled voice comes out and I can’t help but laugh.

With breakfast finished the two of us head to the nail salon and I decide we should really pamper ourselves and we get the deluxe mani/pedi package. The salon I like plays old MTV music videos on big TVs all around the room. The sound of Paramore while my feet soak in the soothing heat and the massage chair digs into my back puts me into a state of complete relaxation and I find my mind wandering. Stuck on a moment from the night before, Noah and I sitting together on the couch and our almost kiss. If things were different, if we lived in an alternate universe and it wasn’t ten years later I would have closed the distance and would have let myself be sucked into his gravity. He has everything he wants now, his music, his band, it’s what he left to find ten years ago.

I look over at Eric who’s set the chair to the back-patting setting that has her voice bouncing “Ah, ah, ah, m-o-o-m, d-o-o-o I s-o-u-n-d w-e-i-r-d.” the smile that breaks across my face is full of love as I take in the beautiful girl in front of me. “You sound perfect baby,” I say and ruffle her hair softly. The rest of our appointment goes by in a relaxing daze. We laugh while Erin tells me about her last two days. We finish up and I mentally prepare myself for the conversation we are about to have. I am going to tell her about Noah. I just hope she doesn’t hate me afterward.

We get back to the house and she rushes into her room to unload her dirty clothes and reunite with the stuffed animals she had to leave behind. “Fluffy! I never want to be separated again!” I hear her exclaim from outside of her room. Before talking to her I head into my room and open my closet door, I’m looking for a certain shoe box. “Where the hell is it?” I ask myself, “Ah ha!” It’s nestled deep into the corner hiding under the Carhart hoodie I borrowed from Haylie who stole it from who knows. I take a deep breath and lift the lid of the box. On top are several photos of me and Noah, some of the two of us, and Nicholas as well. Wadded up in a tight ball is the Bring Me The Horizon shift Noah gave me all those years ago. There’s also a CD, some random ticket stubs, drawings, and more pictures at the bottom. I decide to just take the whole box and head towards Erin’s room.

Knocking on the door I hear a soft, “Come in!” I walk into her room and see that she’s decided today is the day she’s going to reorganize her bookshelf.

“Hey sweety, can I talk to you about something?” I ask and try to hide the nervousness in my voice. “Umm yeah, is everything okay? You sound weird.” So I didn’t do a great job at hiding it. “Yes, everything is okay. There’s just something that I need to talk to you about. Something important.”

Two lines appear between her eyebrows and her face contorts in confusion. “Is this an I can keep working and listening important or do I need to sit next to you on the bed?” she asks and I pat a spot next to me on the bed to wordlessly answer her question. “Oof, okay,” she whispers out and climbs next to me on her bed.

“You remember how I told you that I got pregnant when I was still in high school but my boyfriend and I had already broken up?” she continues looking at me with confusion all over her face but nods slightly, “Yeah, I remember. You said you two never saw each other again.” I take her hand and smile, trying to fight the tears in my eyes.

I open the box and hand her a picture of Noah and I. “His name is Noah. This is your father.” She takes the photo and looks back and forth between me and and younger version in the photo. “You look so different,” she says and I huff a laugh. “Yeah, that’s what growing up will do to you.”

“Where is he?” she asks quietly looking up at me. “Well, he’s actually in town for a few days if you would like to meet him.”

“Where has he been?” she asks and that takes me off guard. I struggle with what to say, not wanting to keep anything from her but also not wanting to upset her. “He’s been in Los Angeles. That’s where he works.”

“What does he do?”

“He’s in a band, playing music, and sings all around the world.”

“Hm,” she says and I’m not sure what she’s thinking.

“So he didn’t want me?” and there it is. The knife in my heart makes it hard to keep the food down from earlier but I push through, remaining strong.

“Oh no sweety, that’s not true at all. He didn’t know for so long. It’s very complicated adult stuff. Things that took me a long time to understand myself” I try to explain to her.

“Will you tell me when I’m older the complicated stuff?”

“Of course baby, I’ll tell you anything you’d like to know about him.”

“Is he nice?” Erin asks in a quiet shy voice, “Do you think he would like me?”

I wrap her up in my arms and squeeze her tightly, “he is very nice and he will like you very much I promise.” I run my hand down her head, soothing her soft brown hair.”Does that mean you’d like to meet him?”

The air is still in the room as Erin takes time to think. Her small face scrunched in concentration. “I think I would like to meet him, yes. But are things going to change? My friend Brody’s parents don’t live together and he goes to his dad’s house every other weekend. Do I have to do that now?” I pull her closer until my head is resting on top of hers. “Nothing will change without you making that decision. Right now, we take things one step at a time.” she nods her head and wraps her arms as tight as she can around me.

“Would you be interested in meeting him tomorrow? He will be leaving again soon with his band so we won’t see him again for a few weeks. I can tell him we can wait if you’d be more comfortable.” I’m also definitely scheduling an earlier therapy appointment for her this week. Her head remains buried in my side while she takes everything in. I am giving her all the time she needs to process, so if she wants to wait until he’s more available I don’t blame her.

“I think I would like to meet him. But what if you just invited him over here? So I can show him my stuff and maybe he will like me even more?”

I move back so I can take her small face into my hands. “I can do that but I need to to listen to me now, there is no one on this planet that could possibly not like you Erin Howlston and I know for a fact that he will love you so much because you are you and you are perfect,” I emphasize my point my giving her cheeks a little squeeze. “But you have to think that because you’re my mom.” she quips through pursed lips. “And he’s your father, so by your logic, he must also think that,” I argue back and I see her eyes turned down slightly in the corner.

“But he made you sad right? That’s why you broke up when you were in high school. I don’t want him to make you sad again.” My heart swells. While I drop an atomic bomb of information about her life she’s worried about my feelings. I must be doing something right with this whole parenting thing.

“Sweetie, that was a long time ago. My heart is all better now and I’m not sad anymore. I am so so so unbelievably happy with our life. With you and Aunt Haliey, Uncle Kyle and Aunt Mags, and little Natasha. I think Noah is a very good person and he wants to be in your life because he cares about you. Even without having met you.” She gives me a small smile and hugs me again.” okay, I want to meet him. You said tomorrow right?” she looks up at me with her deep brown eyes that have always been just like his. “Tomorrow it is. I will give him a call later today, but what do you want to do now? Play? We could watch a movie? Or draw together?”

Quickly detangling from my arms she races to pick up her paper and stretching pencils, “Drawing please! I need help with the cat I’m drawing.”

We spend the next few hours drawing together on her bedroom floor laughing and listening to music. For Christmas last year she asked for a Google Mini so she could ask it to play music whenever she wanted. Now we are listening to “The Very Best Of Otis Redding”. When she was a baby I listened to it all the time. I used to sing “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” while rocking her to sleep. Sometimes I walk by her room and she is listening to it while reading or playing with her toys and it reminds me of holding her when she was so little and how she would hold my finger so tightly.

I feel the tug of guilt in my gut about Noah having missed those moments but force it down, there’s nothing that can be done about the past but we can create new memories with the three of us together. Even if Noah and I aren’t together we can be the two parents that Erin needs. Maybe we can even be friends.

Later, once Erin wanted time alone to play with her toys I went into my room to call Noah. I haven’t been able to talk to Haylie about any of this yet, she woke up late with a hangover and had to run out of the house for the day to meet with her editor to talk about her next book release.

I close my door most of the way, only keeping a small sliver open in case Erin calls out for me. I sit on the edge of my bed and hit the green call button on my new Noah contact page, It rings a few times before I hear the sound of him picking up on the other end.

Hey! Natty, how are you doing? How’s it going?

Hi Noah, things are good. How are you?

There’s rustling in the background of his call, “oohh is that Natalie??” I hear who I think is Folio.

Yes, shush…not you Nat! You don’t have to shush. Sorry, Folio is being an idiot.

I’m good, just working on some new remixes for our deluxe album.

I just finished talking with Erin and she suggested I invite you over tomorrow to meet. Is that okay?

Tomorrow sounds great! What time is good for you two?

How does 12:30 work? I can order us sandwiches from the sub shop in town, Erin’s favorite.

Perfect, 12:30 is perfect. Thank you so much, Natty. I won’t let you down again. I promise.

I try not to blush like a preteen at the way his voice goes almost breathless as he makes his promise to me.

Um. so I’ll see you tomorrow then, bye!

I try to rush off the phone as fast as possible before I let myself word-vomit anything stupid.

Bye Natty, I’ll see you tomorrow, looking forward to seeing you and meeting Erin.

A few minutes I hear Haylie unlock the door and head into the house and she calls out like she did the night before. “Honeys!! I’m home!” she calls from the front room. “Hey Hales!” Erin and I both call out.

Before I have the chance to call down to her to come up so I can relay everything that’s happened since we separated after the concert, she is racing up the stairs taking two at a time. She swings my door open, stepping into my room with a huge face-splitting smile on her face. “Sooo?? How did it go?” she asks moving closer into my room and creating the same small gap in the door before sitting down next to me on the bed. “Well, before I drunkenly barged in. sorry about that. That Folio knows how to throw them back, he’s pretty hot don’t you think?”

She has this twinkle in her eye when she says it and I laugh and roll my eyes at her. “It went well, he was a little upset at first which I wasn’t surprised by. He cried I cried, it was very emotional. He wants to meet her and then stay in Austin during their break in between tour dates.” As I recant my mind whirls and everything hits me more than I expected. “He said that he wanted this life with me, wanted the family and the happiness and the love that he should have fought harder for me, should have never let me go.” I try to keep my voice steady but I can feel my throat getting thick with emotion. Haylie wraps her arm around me and remains quiet while I continue telling her all about what happened. “And then when I was showing him pictures in her baby book there was this moment..” I slowly trail off and she pops forward and her eyes widen in surprise.

“What kind of moment?” she asks in a voice that goes all jelly-like and I manage to look slightly shameful before I tell her. That I so easily folded in his presence is borderline embarrassing, just shows how powerful his hold is still over my heart. But right now I can’t think with my heart, now is the time to think with my brain. While also considering Erin’s heart.

“We might have almost kissed,” I tell her while I bury my face in my hands. “OH MY GOD! NATALIE !” she shrieks and I quickly throw my hands over her mouth. “Shush! Haliey oh my god, Erin will hear you!” and just like that I hear her little voice calling from down the hall, “everything okay in there?” she asks. “Yes!” “Everthing is fine!” we answer in unison and I think she retreats back into her room.

“You almost kissed him! How? What did he say? Did he lean in? How did he act after the almost kiss,” she shoots out the questions in a rapid-fire succession and I rub the sides of my temples before answering her. “Um. I guess he was kind of leaning in, he was doing that thing you know. When a guy looks between your eyes and your lips. I felt so weak. Oh my god, I almost kissed him, and then the book fell and I remembered what we were doing and why he was there and I felt so stupid.”

“You are NOT stupid! There were a lot of emotions flowing, you hadn’t had a moment alone with him in years and it’s not like when you broke up you two weren’t completely and totally in love with each other. It’s not like those feelings just go away.” she says while rubbing up and down along my back.

“I just can’t do that with him, It’s not a good idea for the two of us to do anything that could jepordize Erin’s happiness.” I nod to myself, wiping one of my hands down my face and then raking them through my hair. Haliey and I flop backwards onto the pillows while I finish catching her up on everything that happened, including my conversation with Erin and then my phone call with Noah right before she got home.

“You want me to clear out tomorrow so y’all have some privacy?” she asks and I balk at the thought. “No way! I would never ask you to leave your own house. Plus, you’re such an important person in Erin’s life, I’m sure she would also want you here.”

The three of us spend the rest of our evening lounging in the living room watching TV in our pajamas. We make homemade pizzas and cookies for dinner together in the kitchen while singing along to Disney’s greatest hits. We end the night all cuddled together on the couch watching Erin’s favorite movie “The Secret Life of Arrietty” and when she falls asleep I carry her up the stairs into her room and deposit her into her bed. I gently kiss her forehead and turn on her glowing nightlight before closing the door and heading back to help Haylie finish cleaning the kitchen.

The next day is quickly upon us and I nervously watch the clock ticking away as we get closer and closer to 12:30. I picked up the subs a few minutes ago so hopefully Noah isn’t late. No one likes a soggy sub.

Just seconds before the second-hand crosses over the 12 on the clock there is a knock on the door that causes me to jump straight out of my seat. Haylie laughs at me as she rubs my shoulders walking past and into her room. She told Erin that if she needed her at any time to just barge in and get her. I walk towards the door and Erin suddenly looks very nervous and gets up to hide behind my back. “Are you okay baby?” I ask her quietly before answering the door. She nods her head against my back and whispers, “Yes, I’m fine.” she gripping the back of my jeans but I think if she didn’t want to do this anymore she would say something, she’s just nervous. Hell, I’m nervous.

I open the door and Noah is standing there with a bouquet of wildflowers in one hand and a stuffed monkey in the other. “Hi,” he says in a soft and nervous voice. I return his greeting with a warm smile. “Come on in” I open the door wider so he can come in and Erin scoots along with me not quite ready to reveal herself. “How are you doing?” he asks and hands the flowers over to me, “these are for you.” He gestures to the monkey, “And this is for Erin.” she peaks her head out from behind me and looks up towards Noah and the monkey. “That’s for me?” she asks quietly. Noah crouches down to be at her eye level and hands out the toy to her. “Yes, this is for you. Do you like monkeys?” He asks and I see a small smile appear on her face. “I do like monkeys. I saw some at the zoo a few days ago with my friend Ashely.” She holds out her hand to accept the offering. “Hi Erin.” he says with a warm smile, “I’m Noah, it’s very nice to meet you?” She slowly eases out from behind me and is now standing beside me and at eye level with Noah, still crouched. “It’s nice to meet you too. Even though you made my mom sad.”

Oh, Jesus, this is going to be an interesting afternoon.

Next chapter

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bratzforchris · 10 months

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Can you do Daddy!Luke taking his little out for a shopping day? Ice cream, new toys maybe?

Day with Daddy

❃

Summary: Luke spends a day with his favorite little amidst the chaos of tour

Pairing: Luke x feminine and little!reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1020

A/N: I strayed from the prompt a tiny bit :) I hope you love it!

❃

Luke absolutely adored having you as his little. He prided himself on knowing all your moods and being in tune with the way you felt. And lately, he’d noticed that you just weren’t feeling like yourself. He understood that being on tour with him was difficult for you, as his girlfriend and as his little. You two were constantly in the public eye, and by the time you did get some alone time, you were on the cramped bus.

Hence why he decided that he’d use the boy’s off day to treat you to a special day for just the two of you. The blond woke up early, sliding carefully away from your sleeping frame. He quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face before padding to the small kitchen of the bus. There wasn’t much he could make while in such a tiny space, so he opted to pour you a bowl of Froot Loops, knowing how much joy the rainbow cereal brought you.

Just as he finished making your breakfast he heard a small call of “Daddy?” from the bunk area. He quickly set the cereal down at your spot on the table and hurried back to your shard bed. You were sleepily looking up at him when he pulled back the curtain, suckling on your paci and clutching your stuffed dog (which you’d name ‘Lukey’) to your chest.

“Good morning, princess!” Luke said cheerfully.

You fisted your eyes, making grabby hands for Luke to pick you up. “Mornings, Daddy.” You whispered happily into his chest when finally picked you up.

“I made you some Froot Loops, little one.” he said, rubbing your back.

“Fwoots Loops!” You said with a giggle, instantly perking up.

Luke carried you into the kitchen and sat you down at your spot with your cereal, handing you a pink, plastic unicorn spoon. “Breakfast fit for a princess!”

You smiled and giggled, happily banging your tiny fists on the table. “Mornings, Uncle Mikey!” You said, looking over at Michael, who was sipping his coffee and playing something on his phone.

“Good morning, sweet girl! Eat up, I think Daddy has something planned for you!” Michael said excitedly, trying to get you to eat since you often got distracted at mealtimes.

“Weally, Daddy?!” You asked excitedly.

Luke nodded and kissed the top of your head. “Really, baby girl. Now eat up so we can go!”

You happily obliged, messily shoving your cereal into your mouth but happy all the same. Luke didn’t even have to ask you to get dressed like he normally did. You simply ran to your shared bunk and pulled out an outfit for the day. It was simple and cute, just a pink top with flowers on it and denim overalls. Luke happily chased after you while getting himself ready at the same time. You nearly pulled him down the stairs of the bus and out to the car.

Even though Luke would normally have a driver when the boys were on tour, he insisted on taking you himself today. The only people on tour that knew about you being a little were him and the boys and he didn’t want that to change. You giggled happily as Luke buckled you in, clutching your stuffie to your chest and swinging your feet back and forth.

“I happy, Daddy.” You smiled.

Luke could practically feel his heart melting. “I’m glad you’re happy, princess. Daddy loves when his baby girl is happy.” he smiled softly, rubbing your hand with his own as he began to drive.

You didn’t question where you two were headed. You were simply content to ride in the car with Daddy, listening to your favorite. You did let out a squeal when you saw Luke pull up at the park, though.

“Parks, Daddy! Parks!” You cheered, hastily trying to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Whoa there, baby. Let Daddy help you.” Luke chuckled, helping you out of the car and holding your hand.

You looked up at Luke with such adoration as you held his hand. You absolutely loved coming to the park with Daddy, but lately, tour had hindered you two from doing it. In your mind, the park with Daddy was the equivalent of Disneyland. Luke always brought breadcrumbs for you to feed the ducks in the pond and he always, always pushed you on the swings.

You giggled happily as you and your daddy began to feed the ducks. Their quacking and swimming towards you always filled your little heart with joy. “I ducky, Daddy! Quack quack!”

Luke smiled and laughed, snapping a few quick photos of you on his phone. “That’s right, baby! Daddy’s lil ducky!”

You squealed and clapped your hands before running towards the swings. “Daddys! Swing!”

The blond obliged, quickly following you so he could help you on the playground if needed. He knew you were being completely innocent, but he always worried what judgemental people might say to you if he weren’t around. Luke shook the thoughts from his head as he began to push you on the swings. This was a day for you and him and no one else would ruin that.

After nearly an hour of swinging, Luke heard your soft voice calling for him. “Daddy?”

“Yes, princess?” he asked, slowly bringing you to a stop.

“I seepy.” You mumbled, fisting your eyes.

“Awww, baby,” Luke kissed your forehead as he lifted you off the swing and into his arms. “It is almost naptime. How about we go get some ice cream, then go back to the bus for a nap?”

You nodded against his shoulder, sleepily fisting his shirt. “Mhms.”

“You are so sweet, angel.” Luke whispered in your ear as he walked back towards the car.

You were almost dead-asleep in his arms by the time Luke was buckling you into your seat. He carefully slipped your pink paci that read Daddy’s Princess on it into your mouth before walking over to the driver’s side.

And if you definitely fell asleep on the way to get ice cream? No one had to know but you and your daddy.

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minshookie · 3 years

Text

Invasion of Privacy.

Pairing | mafia!yandere!Joon x Reader

Genre | smut, angst, gore, yandere.

Summary | “while Joon is at work unwanted company comes to visit, opening your eyes to unwanted secrets.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language , mentioned sexual acts, smut (just a little bit), violence, background character death, naive reader insert, dumbification, caretaker Joon.

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [closed for request] words: 2k.

A/N | I struggled LOL But it’s finally here! I hope you enjoy. Forgive my mistakes please 💜

“Ready for breakfast hm?” Joon Spoke softly head resting in the crook of your neck, blanketing you with his warm damp body. “Yeah I guess.” Butterflies still fluttering in your tummy from the activities you both just enjoyed. “Mm well I’m not trying for waffles today kitten I have to go to work, so think of something quick.” He yawned before taking the tender skin of your neck between his supple lips again, sucking you in nibbling playfully. “Joonie when will Mary be back, I like her breakfast.” Almost whining. He chucked against you, “I told you Mary will be back after she’s had her baby.”

Feeling pouty you huff no motivation to eat knowing he’ll be leaving you soon. yawing you simply shrugged away the idea of this mornings breakfast. “Cereal again hm? If you insist.” He groaned pulling his self up on his forearms, gazing down at your connected bodies, he glided out with ease sighing in pleasure. Leaving you feeling empty yet warmly stuffed full. “I’ll be back, you stay put.” He began to walk towards the closet, watching silently in admiration. “Wait!” Stopping he turned. “Panties?” You request, fully knowing he’d get them for you. “Panties...of course.” He swiftly turned pulling some from the drawer. You reached for them, softly swatting your hand he went to your legs. “Up.” Complying, you let him dress your bottom half. “Being needy this morning i see,need a shirt too?” You nodded, letting him dress you again. “Alright cereal coming right up babybug.” He gave you a sweet Eskimo kiss before leaving.

His heavy steps thumped the hardwood stars, getting softer and softer before they disappeared. Never could you have imagined a simple round of dates would land you here, wrapped in Eucalyptus sheets, in the middle of a giant bed, upstairs of a Manson. Getting loved daily by a man with millions to his name. Your face began to grow warmer of subtle humiliation as you felt your heat drip of him. This whole situation felt like a long, long fairytale dream and you were loving every minute of it. Your reminiscing was cut short by the thudding of Joon’s feet coming up the stairs, finally he renters a smile on his face dimples prominent. Obviously proud of his limited culinary skills.

“A sugary cereal for the sweetest person I know, and a fruit cup too.” He walked slowly with he bed table careful not to spill. “c’mon get up and eat.” You sat up wide eyed ready for the meal he set before you. “What do you say greedy girl?” He held you back from the simple breakfast. “Thank you Joonie.” He nodded in approval letting go. “Remember, drink your milk, clean up your mess...eat all your fruit.”

He walked to the bathroom letting you eat in peace. You obliged his orders enjoying your modest breakfast quickly. Soon though, you started swaying the rose gold spoon around in the matching bowl watching the bland cereal chase each other. You’d finished all the marshmallows, you knew Joon would protest. Finishing the milk you began to pluck your favorites from the small fruit bowl, growing bored rather quickly.

“Joonie!” You beckoned, cheek full of berries. “yeah!” He yelled over the heavy patter of the shower. “Can I watch TV?” Tightly you closed your eyes in wishful thinking. “No Princess, it’s too early you know that, don’t you?!” You huffed, swallowing your fruit. “Yes!” He didn’t respond expecting you to eat the rest if your breakfast, in your true fashion you ignored the kiwi and bland cereals uneaten in protest of no early morning TV.

Annoyingly you shifted uncomfortably along the plush mattress once again. The once comforting fullness you felt now just starting to make an unpleasant mess...“Joonie!” “Y/n!” He yelled back while exiting the bathroom, his body glistening the scent of his masculine body wash and cologne engulfing the room. “I need to shower, I’m making a mess.” You stated shyly, making him smile in laughter.

“A mess huh, why don’t you take care of it?” He asked knowingly making you pout, he walked closer picking up the clear bowl, kiwi left behind. “Ah, eat this.” He held the green fruit between his fingers. “Eat one at least.” He rubbed it along your parted lips, you obliged his glare making you feel small. “Do I have to start giving you my cereal seems your tummy is getting full on sweets before you make it to the real breakfast?” Teasing he took it upon himself to finish the cereals.

“What do you say?” “Sorry for not finishing.” no way could you disobey him. “Good,Tell me about this mess though.” He inquired placing a kiwi slice in his mouth, walking to his suit closet letting his towel fall, he was already clad in his briefs. “You know!” He chuckled “I do? Oh is it my cum baby?” He stated lewdly while pulling out a dark suit. “Joon c’mon!” You whined, moving the the table. “Well Y/n if you wanted my help you should’ve joined me in the shower, you spoiled little brat.” He began to get dressed, “go wipe, go shower, and I’ll have someone clean the sheets yeah?” You rolled from the warm bed, a breeze catching your wet spot. “Yeah.” He smoothed the suit out over him , choosing a belt. “C’mon, I’m going to work big girl panties y/n go clean up please.” You took your time to walk past him , secretly wanting him to stay. You hoped he’d feel bad if you played hurt, or incapable of washing up maybe he’d stay late to help.

With a sigh of disapproval he turned from watching you walk begrudgingly in the mirror, giving your bottom a firm tap. “Now please so I can see you before I go okay?” Nodding you did as told, your scheme unsuccessful you resorted to complying. Striping and folding your clothes before throwing them in the hamper. Pulling the body wash, hand picked by Joon you lathered and showered as throughly and quickly as you could. Examining the dark areas he’d left behind, your neck,legs, and stomach, even scattering some along your pelvic area. Namjoon was extremely through when putting his claim over you, not like he had any competition. “All day kitten?” He knocked lightly on the door. The time spent Wandering in your thoughts taking a little longer than Joon’s liking you followed routine rinsing and turning off the water, drying you left with the plush towel around you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, an outfit laid over his thigh. “All dry?” You nodded catching a slight shiver, “you sure?” He called you over with a finger, tenderly he unwrapped you taking it upon himself to make sure you were dried, helping dress you as well. “When do you have to go Joon?” “Now.” Sighing you fell into his chest for a hug. “Yeah yeah, c’mon I gotta go love.” He kissed your cheek. “Kiss me before I go.” You pulled out of the crook of his neck latching onto his lips. Grabbing your neck he took the lead invading your mouth lustfully with his own. “Still taste sweet hm, remember to brush your teeth, lunch at twelve,have a snack around four, I’ll be home for dinner...and do not open the door.” You nodded your hands still in his. “I have a friend downstairs okay anything you can’t take care of...and I don’t mean the little things...ask him okay?” “Okay.” You crawled into bed avoiding the soiled area.

He got up smoothing his suit over again. “Uhm Joonie-” “I know I know.” He threw the remote to you before leaving. “See you later my pretty girl, remember I’ll know if you’re naughty. ” You smile turning on the TV. “See you later.”

After tedious hours of watching, and flipping through channels you enviably you became extremely bored with the flashing pictures playing before you. The nap you’d gifted yourself earlier began to wear off, you were sure it’s already been two hours, nobody’s came for the sheets. Strange of the morning staff to forget that. Rolling your eyes, you brushed off their neglect sitting up from the bed striping the stained sheets.

As bored as you were, you didn’t mind the walk down to the wash room. Once you gained balance of the heavy load, the trek began, only able to peak over the large bundle the stairs were a challenge. Once conquered you repositioned the bundle in your arms beginning to weigh on you. “Hey I brought the sheets for you!” Too lazy to complete the mission at hand, you tossed the sheets on the nearest couch, throwing yourself in the seat next to them. “Hello?!” Nobody seemed to call back as you voice deflected off of the walls. No way would they leave you all alone.

You stood from your seat, leaving the laundry behind as curiosity got the best of you. Where had everyone gone? You could’ve sworn you heard Joon conversing with them before he left. Roaming past the kitchen, Joon’s left his cutting board and knife out fruit juice displayed across the marble surface. Nobodies been on their job, and to think of it you haven’t seen or heard Joon’s friend he’d left for you yet.

You hated being alone, and Joon knew that. He wouldn’t leave you that way. Meandering down the elongated hall, which located staff bedrooms leaving a firm knock on the door....nothing. Fear draped over you the silence becoming too loud, taking panicked strides leaving the hall. Wandering the house looking for any other life form. Until you met face to face with a forbidden room. Joon’s office. Throwing rules away you griped the stubborn knob. Locked damn. “Help.” Whimpering like a kicked puppy you kept searching. “Joonie.” Wandering around, like you were lost in your own house, you skipped down the small flight of stairs, the washroom maybe they’re in there ...a dumb thought but this is the only room you haven’t rampaged.

Swinging the fragile door, a pungent rusting scent crashed into you. “And who the fuck are you?” Frozen in the door frame your brain fell blank. A group of men you’d never met covered in drying blood. The staff and who seemed to be Jungkook, sat lifelessly bound by their legs and arms in chairs in a perfect line. “Where’d come from?” Unable to speak you stared into the glossed eyes of people you once called friends. “Where’d you fucking come from!” Your mouth dried nervously, unsure what to answer...“Bed-bedroom ups-stairs.” They shared a look with each other, the only visible feature being their eyes. “Well you see these dunces doll...they lied...you won’t do that huh?” You shook your head, “Jungkook...he doesn’t lie.” They all laughed in frenzy. “No but he sure does fight back, don’t do that either...c’mon over here princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” You stepped only one step closer, in fear of getting near the corpses. “Alright, heard...who are you?” Fiddling with your shirt you looked to your toes. “C’mon baby answer honestly or I’ll have to...sit you down.” You looked up, hot tears piercing your eyes begging to fall. “I’m y/n...Joon’s girlfriend.” Nodding in approval, someone in the back butted in. “He fuck you good?”You sniffled, looking back and forth between the few of them. “Don’t answer that, we don’t give a fuck about that....here’s the real test, where’s Namjoon hiding hmm?”

Oh, that’s easy, “Joon...he’s at work.” Scoffing in disbelief he reached behind him into his back pocket. “One more time cutie, where’s your little boyfriend.” Wide eyed your mouth quivered with no words. “I told you he’s at work.” He turned to his darkly dressed men “get a fucking chair, you y/n go sit in it.” You turned to run, a gun shot landed above you dry wall crumbling. “Sit your tight ass in that chair, or the next bullet will be buried in your chest.” Frozen in your tracks, you knew siting would land you right where Jungkook was. “Kim Namjoon is at work you won’t find him here!” Shaken you peered over your shoulder.

“Okay...okay, where does he work huh?” You turned back towards the stairs. “Uhm...I-I I’m not sure...big business I think, he has suits and a home office and people p-people follow him-” your rambling in cold sweat was cut short by the sound of bullets ricocheting along the cement walls. “Get out of the fucking way you dense bitch!” Unable to see your hero you rushed past him bolting away as quick as you could, blinded by tears. Eventually you fumbled into someone. “Hey hey y/n you hurt?” “JOONIE!” You climbed him his voice mesmerizing you. “Joonie it was disgusting, joonie please help.” The commotion still echoing in the wash room, Joon took his large hands over your ears guiding you upstairs into your shared room.

Finally silence to comfort you a wave of anger rushed over you as you processed your situation. Your ears pulsating. “Y/n...I’m so sorry princess.” All you could do was fall back onto the bare mattress. “Please do- who are they?” He sighed rubbing the back of his neck. “Business rivals.” He leans a leg on the maters caressing your thigh. “Joon don’t fucking lie I almost died.” He swatted your exposed tummy. “Hey don’t talk to me like that y/n.” Tears of anger replacing fear, “is this a game to you am I a damn toy to you...Joon I know you’re not telling me the truth and it hurts.”

He sat on the bed with an aggravated groan, you laid back staring at the smooth ceiling. “Y/n it’s best if you don’t know.” “Joon I’ll leave. Tonight i almost got my brai-” he darkly chuckled cutting you off “and to where, c’mon where?” You breathed deeply with anger. “I’ll- uhm...” “I’m the best thing that ever happened to you, face it you’d be fucked over without me.” You rolled over, you could scream your figure shook in frustration. “I’ve pulled you in and treated you like a queen and you want to leave because you had to dodge a bullet?” “Please stop, Joon I’m leaving.” You sat up only to be pushed down, “you’ll die without me bitch, there are eyes on you, you take one step out of my house your just as good bounty as me.” What bullshit has this motherfucker pulled you into.

“Plus I’ve had you here, dumbed you down so much you can’t even shower right, let alone live alone, I feed your ass, wipe your ass, clean your disgusting ass, dress you, protect you, service waiting on you every damn hour of the day...fuck you how you please never how I please and yet you wanna go?!” Tears spilled from you, he straddled you peering maliciously, never has Joon spoken to you this way.

In surprise the door swung open, making your stomach drop, Yoongi’s face speckled red. “Joon it’s Guk he’s dead.” “Get out.” His voice flat no emotion present Yoongi obliged slamming the door on his way. “You even got one of my men-” “no.” You earned a slap like no other for cutting him off “I’ve trained you so much better, so much better than to cut me off and to snitch on me...I was at work huh...they wouldn’t find me here huh?” You couldn’t respond, the left side of your face throbbing from the assault. “Once I caught word of the invasion I check the cameras for you and low and behold your mouth never fucking shut...saving yourself? Fucking cunt.” You looked away from his accusing gaze.

“No words? Just how I like you...now be a good girl, apologize.” “I love-e you joo-nie I’m sorry.” You recite from memory. “I love you too, don’t ever disobey me again, and don’t you dare try to leave if you do, I’ll blow the little brains you have let by myself.” Tears pooled your face causing him to smirk. “Remember I own you, everything you are, everything you want, everything you believe, is mine to keep.”

Not my image

317 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 3 years

Text

🧦 stocking stuffers: taehyung’s good at hiding presents and y/n’s bad at finding them

pairing; roommate!taehyung x reader

genre; sfw!! feat. the usual antics because roommate!tae and y/n are both clowns (also there’s a reference from the fic in here.,., if u kno u kno)

what to expect; “i’ll make-out with you for five minutes straight if you tell me where you’ve hidden them.”

wordcount; 1.5k

»»————-　🎁　————-««

“hey, i could get used to this view.” taehyung whistles lowly as he pushes his bedroom door open, his gaze immediately falling to your ass that’s sticking up in the air

he’s been looking all over the apartment for you for the past twenty minutes

(the only reason why it took him twenty minutes was because he went on a mandatory snack break when he went to the kitchen to replenish his energy from the exertion of looking for you)

“-!” you yelp when you knock the top of your head against the base of the bed, quickly bringing a hand up to press against the sore spot, “tae! ...there you are! i was, uh, looking all over for you!”

“and the first place you thought to look was under my bed?” he asks, leaning against the frame of the door and shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants

“well, it’s... it’s pretty spacious down here, so...” you swipe your arm underneath the bed to emphasize your point, “you could totally fit under here-”

“are you-”

“no, i’m not!” you chuckle nervously, getting up onto your feet before dusting your hands off, “no. i’m not.” you repeat, lowering your voice by a couple octaves

taehyung blinks

“i didn’t even finish asking the question.”

“well, whatever your question was, my answer is no, i’m not.” you clear your throat, leaning over a little to pull up the corner taehyung’s blanket a little bit before shooting him a sheepish smile

(you ripped it off the bed when you barged in like a rabid dog because you were positive that your presents were hiding underneath the sheets - unsurprisingly, they weren’t.)

“i wasn’t doing anything!” you cross your arms defensively, “that’s my point.”

“you’re acting like you just murdered someone and now you’re just trying to hide the body.” taehyung points out before his eyes widen slightly, “you… you didn’t murder-”

“no, i didn’t murder anyone, dumbass,” you snort, “i was just… cleaning up a little bit! you know how dusty it gets in this apartment…” you sigh, slowly stepping towards taehyung while nodding slowly, “it’s, uh… it’s pretty clean in here! i have to say you’ve done a pretty good job at dusti-“

“if you’re looking for your presents, you’re definitely not going to find them in here-“

“then where else would you be hiding them!?” you blurt out, electricity zinging up your spine as you stand up straight

taehyung laughs lightly before shaking his head and turning on his heel, “do you actually think i’m dumb enough to keep presents hidden under my bed? this isn’t my first rodeo, cowgirl-”

he used to do secret santa with his roommates back when he still lived at the frat house and he learned to hide presents very well because boys are much more aggressive when it comes to tearing a place apart to look for something

one time he came home to see that the entire couch had been flipped over and cut open (with its stuffing strewn everywhere) which wasn’t a very pleasant surprise

that was a nice couch!

so if you really thought he was hiding his presents underneath his bed... you must be insane!

“well... i already put my presents for you underneath the tree!” you whine, clinging to taehyung from behind as the two of you make your way down the hallway and out to the living room, “why can’t you put yours out?”

“i have self-control, so i haven’t even thought about touching or shaking any of the packages underneath the tree,” taehyung teases, “plus, you put them out here on your own accord! i certainly didn’t force you to-”

“but it’s not fAIR-!” you whine, burrowing your face in between taehyung’s shoulder blades as your arms tighten around his torso, “it’s so not fair...”

taehyung hums in response, reaching down to give the top of your folded hands a loving pat

you can cry about it all day long but it’s not going to change his mind or make him give in

...also, are you going to cling to him like this all day?

because if you are, you guys will probably run into some issues when he eventually has to use the washroom-

“i’ll make-out with you for five minutes straight if you tell me where you’ve hidden them.” you perk up, propping your chin up onto tae’s shoulder

“you think a measly five minute make-out session is going to tempt- how old do you think we are?? thirteen??” taehyung scoffs, turning his head slightly so he can kind of look at you, “nice try.”

“what about a handjob?”

“hm, getting warmer-” taehyung jokes as he walks towards the kitchen, reaching down to try to prY you off of him

“blowjob???” you’re more desperate now as you trail behind him, taehyung letting out a laugh at how needy you’re acting, “sex! i’ll give you the full package!”

the two of you step into the kitchen, taehyung making his way to the fridge for another snack

he thinks he deserves an award of some kind for finding you

and a nice, crisp bowl of cereal sounds good to him right now

“what do you want?? you wanna put a leash on me?? tie me up??” you slap your hands down on the kitchen island as you watch taehyung grab the milk from the fridge, “blindfold me! use ice cubes-”

“hold on, wait-” taehyung spins around, his eyes widening in concern as he holds up a finger, “did you hear that?”

“huh?” you tilt your head curiously before looking around the kitchen, “hear wha-”

“hello! this is kim taehyung headquarters, you’re speaking to secretary kim. how may i be of service today?” taehyung chirps, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a bright smile

oh god

oh god please

please nO

“don’t do this to me.” you whisper, shaking your head slowly, “do not make me do this again-”

“i’m sorry, miss.” tae hums, closing the fridge door, “could you speak up? i’m afraid i can’t hear you...”

you slump down against the counter, turning your head and squishing your cheek against the cool surface as you give in, “...i would like to file a complaint about kim taehyung to the kim taehyung complaint department.”

taehyung grins at the sight of you completely giving up, “great! can i get a name?”

“y/n y/l/n.” you mumble, feeling an immense wave of deja vu rush over you

this sucks

everything sucks

“alright, miss y/l/n.” taehyung smiles to himself as he pulls the drawers open for a spoon, “i’ll connect you to the kim taehyung complaint department right now. i’m going to put you on hold now, if you wouldn’t mind waiting?”

“you know, i would mind,” you get up from the counter before propping your chin up on your palm, “but i don’t think you really care-”

taehyung cuts you off as he starts to hum an overly cheerful version of twinkle twinkle little star, his head bopping along to the beat as he pours milk into his bowl

you continue to glare at him as your eyebrows knit together in frustration

unbelievable

you’re dating an idiot

why are you playing along with this???

again???

“hello!” taehyung’s head suddenly shoots up, “this is the kim taehyung complaint department of kim taehyung headquarters. you’re speaking to head manager kim taehyung. how may i be of service today?”

you poke your tongue against the side of your cheek as you think about your response

you knoW that as soon as you say something, he’s going to cut you off

...

you’re not going to let him win this time

this time, you’re going to be the one who gets the last word in!

you push yourself up off the counter before crossing your arms, taehyung looking at you expectantly

“this is... miss y/l/n that i’m speaking to, correct? i was told that you had a complaint to make?”

you give tae a half-hearted shrug in response

taehyung nods to himself in understanding

so that’s how you’re going to do this?

you think you’re going to beat him at his own game?

“i’m sorry, am i correct in saying that your complaint had something to do with christmas presents?” taehyung purses his lips in thought, “because i’d be more than happy to help you find them-”

“woah, woah, okay-!” the smug grin falls from your face as you start bouncing up and down on your heels excitedly, “YES please tell me where i can-”

“oOh, sorry!” taehyung winces, sucking in air through his gritted teeth, “my snack break just started. you know how it is.” he pouts, bringing a spoonful of cereal up to his mouth before taking a bite

mm!

hits the spot :’)

“are you fu-”

“pheavse pheel phree to call again la-er-!” he murmurs through a mouthful of cheerios, milk dribbling down his chin

“oh, you’re disgusting-” you scoff, rolling your eyes before turning on your heel to exit the kitchen, “and your lame kim taehyung headquarters bit is so not funny-!”

❄️christmas with cee 2020 masterlist 🎄

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disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

Text

The Rules of Engagement (2/5)

part of the The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 5.9k

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence. we are starting to earn that m rating now, folks

a/n: at the end. unbeta’d, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

You wake the next morning feeling better than you have any right to feel, given the guaro you’d drank last night. You tiptoe into the living area to check on Javi. He’s slumped over, one arm thrown over his head, the other crushed under the throw pillow, blanket crumpled on the floor below him. He’s snoring softly.

You grimace, just knowing that it’s going to be a rough morning for him.

You start with coffee, naturally. While the water is heating, you rummage through the kitchen, not making any particular effort to be silent - Javi has to wake up eventually - but still trying to keep from banging around too much.

“Fuck,” you hiss, staring indignantly into the fridge. You’d cooked all the eggs last night, and there’s nothing left for breakfast.

“Whhhaa?” Javi sits up slowly. All you can see is a dark bird’s nest peeking over the sofa. Given last night’s realization and your fascination with his hair, you decide that’s probably a good thing.

“No groceries in,” you admit apologetically. He’ll have to make do with coffee.

“Ugh,” you hear him groan from the living room. He must have slumped forward or something, because you can’t see him anymore. “Ears.” His voice is pathetic.

You pour the coffee into two mugs, automatically adding creamer to yours, sugar to his. It occurs to you that making Javier Peña’s morning cup of coffee should not come so naturally to you.

You roll you eyes at the thought. All the more reason for this to stop.

He’s doubled over on his knees, head in hands, fingers carding through his wild hair. You bite your lip.

He does look pitiful, and admittedly, you are partially to blame. You set his coffee down in front of him, along with a couple of aspirin tablets. “Here,” you do your best to keep your voice soft. “This’ll help a little.”

He glares darkly at you, looking like an indignant little boy, and reaches for the coffee. Gulps. Grimaces as he burns his tongue. Slams the cup down. Sighs. Picks up the pills. Tosses those back, too. Closes his eyes. Falls back onto the sofa as easily as he’s able with his aching head.

Okay, then. Javier Peña is not a morning person. You’d known that already - it’s endearing, but old news. Javier Peña with a hangover, though, is an absolute drama queen. This, you file away as new information.

You reach for his coffee cup and refill it.

He side-eyes you as you approach him with his second mug. “You,” he says accusatorially, pointing a crooked finger in your direction and leering in a way that’s both disturbing and appealing. “You promised me magic eggs.”

“You’re not wrong,” You tell him, settling down with your own coffee cup. “But I did say to hold off on that last shot, too, didn’t I?”

He growls, eyes world-weary and bloodshot, and reaches for his mug. “Point,” he admits reluctantly. “Ugh.”

“If you’re going to puke, please try to make it to a trashcan first, preferably the one in bathroom,” you tell him as you start rummaging around the cabinets for anything that could be remotely edible. “The tiles there are easier to clean.”

“Christ,” he whines. “I’m not that fucked.” He stands, then wobbles, bracing himself on the back of the sofa and breathing heavily, looking a little green.

“Right,” you say dryly, turning back to your cabinets. Cereal, but your milk has probably gone off by now. There’s a pack of lentils in the back of pantry that you’d bought god-knows-when, but those take far too long to be cooked for breakfast, and besides, who even likes lentils anyway?

You jump as Javi presses his chest against your back, looking over your shoulder to inspect your depressingly empty cabinets. “Looks like we’re shit out of luck,” he grumbles as you try not to react to the fact that you can feel the rumble of his voice as he speaks. “What kind of woman are you, anyway?” he wonders aloud as he reaches around you to rifle through your disappointing pantry.

You whirl, jabbing him with an elbow. “The kind who doesn’t cook you breakfast!”

He smirks at you, moving closer, and oh, that caffeine must be working, because he’s grinning now. “Oh really?” he asks, damn near pinning you to the cabinet doors. “Because that’s not what I remember from last night.”

You roll your eyes, side-stepping him before he starts grinding into your hips. You couldn’t avoid reacting to that.

“What you remember was a rescue mission, Peña, not domestic bliss. If I hadn’t made you those eggs, you wouldn’t be capable of standing here teasing me this morning, and that’s a promise.”

His smirk softens into a genuine smile. “Well then, I owe you one, I guess.” He glances at his watch, then back at you. “Let me take you for breakfast? There’s a little cafe down the street that’s quick and discreet.”

You turn to frown at him, bag of lentils rattling as it drops to the floor.

He stares right back at you, naked save for his boxers and socks. His hair is a mess, his face a little swollen from last night, eyes just a tiny bit glossy, but his expression is dead serious. He holds a hand out to you, as if he’d like to escort you down the stairs right now.

You can’t help it. You laugh.

He rolls his eyes, downing the rest of his coffee in one go and setting the cup on the counter as he approaches you. “Ears,” he says softly, and something in you fucking trembles at that voice, all cracked and hoarse in the early morning. “I owe you breakfast.” He reaches for your hands, gathers them to his chest. “Let me.”

You tilt your face up, as if you expect him to drop a kiss on your forehead, then jump back as if burned. His erection is digging into your thigh, needy and insistent, and it takes everything in your power to step away instead of grinding into him.

You take a deep, shaking breath, feeling yourself flood with need for him. He’s looking at you, far more observant that he ought to be capable of, as hungover as he is, and it spikes something resentful in you.

“Yeah?” you say, keeping your voice light and teasing. “You gonna do something about that, first?”

He doesn’t even pretend to be confused, just reaches down to blatantly adjust himself. “If you aren’t, I guess,” he says evenly, one brow cocked in question.

Goddamn it.

You lick your lips, an unconscious move that makes his cock twitch.

You swallow back a smile, suddenly relieved. Even if it doesn’t feel like it, you still have the power here. “Nah,” you grin up at him, teasing, swiping your tongue behind your teeth in a way that you know drives him crazy. “It’s hardly been a week, remember? I’m not that desperate yet.”

His gaze narrows as he sizes you up. A hand deliberately slips beneath the hem of his boxers. “You sure, babe?”

“I’m sure you’re more than capable of handling that,” you tell him sweetly.

The expression that answers you is predatory. “I’ll just borrow your shower, then.” He winks at you. “Be ready in ten.”

♠

You’re ready in five.

He takes an absurdly long time. You halfway consider banging on the bathroom door to remind him not to run out your hot water, but decide not to give him the satisfaction. Just as you’re starting to get truly annoyed, the water shuts off. He opens the door moments later, all wet and dripping, towel hanging low over his hips.

Asshole.

He makes no issue of changing in front of you, but hell, you aren’t going to leave, either - you need access to your own bathroom, for godssake - and you do your best not to look at his glistening skin as he slips into yesterday’s clothes. You tell yourself that it’s no big deal, we all have bodies, and his is nothing you’ve never seen, anyway.

You can’t help but notice, though, when he bends over, fully dressed, and snatches a pair of your panties from the floor.

You eyeball him from where you’re perched on the counter with your feet in the sink. Javi meets your gaze in the mirror and holds aloft the panties, draping them suggestively over his chest, and then, before you can even scowl at him, he’s winking at you, balling them up and stuffing them into the back pocket of his jeans.

The fuck??

You decide not to say anything. They’re just cotton undies, some of your favorites, sure, but comfy, not sexy. Complaining will definitely give him points. Instead, you roll your eyes hard enough to dislodge your contacts, forcing yourself to sulk open-mouthed in the mirror as you blink to settle them back into place.

By the time you’ve done that, he’s standing beside you, brushing his teeth as if nothing is amiss.

You glance down. Even with a second day of wear, those jeans are tight enough that you can clearly see the outline of your panties in his back pocket.

Motherfucker.

“Ready, Ears?” he asks as you finish tying back your braid. Cool as fucking anything. You can’t even tell he’s hungover, the absolute cuntstain.

“Sure.” You hop down from the sink, allowing him to catch you, even though it’s totally unnecessary. For just a second, your body is pressed against his, heat and damp of the shower emanating from his skin, his belt digging into your belly.

He grins down at you, bright-eyed and thoroughly obnoxious, like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “So this place has the best waffles…”

♠

You make it to the office just after 0830. Not late enough to truly raise eyebrows, but your face still flames as you slip into your headset. Nobody bats an eye except for Torres, who glances up suspiciously. You shake your head at him, and he ducks back down, attending his station as if he’d never noticed you walk in.

Work keeps you busy. The Search Bloc boys are swarming, prepping this and that for their afternoon excursion to Medellín. Centra Spike is flying two teams over the targeted neighborhood, doing their best to patch in for any last minute intel, and the whole day devolves into chaos.

You’ve forgotten all about Javi until you happen to pass him in the hallway on your lunch break. He’s in full Agent Peña mode, talking to Murphy with his fists on his hips, flaying his leather jacket out behind him like a pair of demon wings. You can’t help but notice the outline of your panties bunched up at the bottom of his left back pocket.

The contrast of the image, the smooth as silk DEA agent displaying the outline of your fucking underwear on his ass for all to see and wonder about, is enough to set your body on fire.

You make a quick detour to the bathroom, hunching over the sink to look in the mirror. The woman staring back at you has wide eyes and swollen lips. Her cheeks are burning. Her braid is frazzled, and she’s wearing a stunned, dumb expression on her face.

‘Oh, honey,’ you think condescendingly to your reflection, ‘you have no chill.’

It occurs to you, suddenly, that the women’s bathrooms at the CNP Headquarters are frequently cleaned and rarely used. Mirrors surround you on three walls. Anybody could walk in behind you, lifting your skirt and pushing aside your panties as he thrusts into you, and you could watch it all from your position over the sink.

Shame and desire are literally flooding you. Angrily, you enter the nearest stall, dragging your soaked panties down your legs. You bundle them up and swipe at yourself with them, stuffing in the wastebasket with a growl when you're done. 'That’s two pair of undies that man has lost me,' you think viciously, cursing your body for reacting so strongly. Goddamn Javier Peña for taking your underwear to work with him in the first place, the kinky-ass kleptomaniac bastard.

There’s too much going on for you to be preoccupied like this right now.

You exit the bathroom when you fucking finally feel clean again, smoothing your skirt over your ass and checking yourself out once again in the mirror.

This woman still looks a little flushed, but her eyes are glittering now, narrowed in annoyance. You definitely don’t have any panty lines to worry about. You smooth down the flyaways that are attempting to escape your braid and sigh, thinking you can easily pass for just having a busy work day.

It’ll have to do.

♠

Search Bloc is scheduled to board the chopper at 1400 hours.

It’s no big deal. You know with all your heart that your intel is good - you’d triple checked it twice before even handing it to Javi - but something about the hustle and bustle at the embassy has you on edge. You make your way to the landing pad, not even trying to justify a reason for being there.

You just want to see Javi one time before he leaves.

And there he is, standing just afield of the chopper with Murphy and some other member of the Colombian brass whose name you hadn’t bothered to learn. Their heads are pressed together, hair waving in the wind of the chopper blades, shouting, pointing.

Your heart speeds. Javi’s wearing that fucking bulletproof vest, the green one that hardly covers him in any capacity that actually matters. Dread pools in your belly as you take him in - salmon colored shirt sleeves exposing tanned arms, padded armor that extends over his subclavian artery with less breadth than a teenager could get away with wearing in a typical high school classroom. His heart is covered, thankfully, but his neck is vulnerable, as is most of his shoulder. One of your good friends had been a medic in Desert Storm, and you’ve heard enough of his horror stories to know that a gunshot wound to the clavicular area is nearly always lethal. Never mind one to the neck or head.

You take a breath, then another. You’ve done your job. You know without a doubt that the conversation you’d listened to, over and over, had verified Verdugo’s presence in Medellín.

More importantly, you’re confident in Javi’s abilities. He’s sharp, and he’s a survivor. He can protect himself, you’re sure of it.

As if he’d sensed your thoughts, Javi whirls, looking back at you with his hand raised to block the sun. You meet his gaze, waving subtly in acknowledgement.

“Be careful,” you mouth, not certain if you’re close enough for him to read you lips.

Please.

His only response is a sharp nod.

♠

It’s barely been a day, and already it’s burning a hole in you, missing him.

You tell yourself that it could just be libido that’s burning a hole in you, too.

He’s left one of his shirts on your floor, the asshole. It’s the yellow one that reminds you of your neighborhood mailman back home. You pick it up and immediately throw it in the dirty laundry, quick as if it had burned. You don’t want to see him. You don’t want to smell him.

You just want him safe.

You sit on your sofa, staring idly at the lopsided stack of playing cards that he’d left half-shuffled on your coffee table.

♠

Rumor is at Centra Strike that the Search Bloc team has run into some “legal problems.” The situation is pending intervention by the local authorities.

“There’s nothing for you to do, Ears. Go home.”

♠

You bump into Ana on your way up the stairs.

“Hey!” she lights up when she first sees you, but then her face settles into a thoughtful frown. “You look worried.” She moves closer, all gentle concern, resting a hand on your shoulder. Behind her, Emilio is watching, probably picking up on more than he lets on. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you tell her, mustering up a half-hearted smile. “Everything is fine.”

She grimaces like she doesn’t quite believe you, but squeezes your arm and lets you go anyway. “Men are the worst. Come find me, Ears, if you need to talk.”

You nod, biting your lip. “Thanks.”

♠

You’re just getting ready for bed when the front door creaks open, and Javi slips in.

Something in your chest leaps to see him, but your grins fades as you glance up from your book.

Javi looks terrible. His shoulders are slumped, motions jerky and exhausted as he drops wallet, keys, gun, cigarettes, pager, one by one, onto your kitchen counter.

“Hey,” you say softly, setting the book aside and rising to your feet.

“Hey,” he breathes, more of a huff than a word. He shrugs out of his jacket, skirting around the coffee table to settle heavily on the sofa. He leans forward on his elbows, head bowed, staring absently at the worn carpet.

Jesus.

Carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, you move in beside him, not quite close enough to brush his shoulder. You take a moment to reign in your palpable relief at seeing him here, alive and unharmed. How you feel is not important right now.

What’s important is Javi, who’s slumped with his hands clasped over his knees. Dejection leaks from him in tangible waves, and you can’t help but move closer, resting your hand on his shoulder in silent comfort. He trembles subtly at your touch, but doesn’t flinch away.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask after a long moment. It’s the only thing you know to offer.

He inhales sharply at your voice, as if he’d forgotten you were there, then heaves another massive sigh, pressing his palms into his eyes and digging his fingers through his hair.

“There’s a fucking leak in the Medellín force,” he bites out tersely.

You stiffen as if he’d poured ice water down your back. “Oh god.” All that intel, all those men, delivered directly to Verdugo, to Escobar…

“Yeah,” he growls, muscles of his back tensing. “We walked right into a trap.”

“Fuck,” you breathe, the implications hitting you one by one. You’re struck with the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him and cling for dear life, emotions tangling and snarling in your chest - gratitude, overwhelming relief, concern, curiosity. You manage to hold still, settling for slowly rubbing his shoulder, your fingers carding back and forth against the thin material of his shirt.

It’s overwhelming and frustrating, your powerlessness in this situation. He’s come straight to you, again, but you aren’t sure what to say, or how you can help.

“I’m here,” you whisper after a long moment, because it’s true. You are.

He takes a deep breath, then another. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t move, but some of the tension seems to drain from him.

“Somebody had prepared them for our arrival,” he says at last. His voice is stretched thin, eyes glazed as he stares into space, reliving the day. “Once we reached the house, we were surrounded. Had to shoot our way out.”

Oh, Christ.

“I lost four men.” He drops his head again, covering his face.

The thought of Javier Peña being ashamed, feeling like he has to hide from you, is so ridiculously unfathomable that you just can’t allow it. You reach for his hand, twining your fingers through his so quickly that you aren’t even aware you’ve made the decision to do so. He glances down at your clasped hands, startled and a little awestruck, and then raises his eyes to meet yours. They’re dark and wet, wide with wonder and a question.

You squeeze his hand once, tightly.

He inhales sharply, tipping his head over and back to rest against your chest. The movement surprises you, but it’s not unwelcome, and you shift to accommodate him, arching against the arm of the sofa, wriggling you leg out from beneath you and encircling his shoulder with your free arm.

You sit there in the dark like that for a long moment, just breathing, existing.

“And that’s not all,” he confesses after a long silence.

Wait, really? You’re not sure if you even answer aloud, you’re so caught up in what he’s saying.

“Afterward, they implied there was a problem with our warrants, that we shouldn’t have had access to that neighborhood to begin with.” Javi huffs. “Trying to get our visas pulled.”

Horror floods you. “But-”

He tilts back to make upside down eye contact with you. Any other time, you’d think he was being cute, but now, it’s nothing but exhausted desperation. “It’s okay,” he reassures you. “It didn’t go through - our paperwork was solid.” He chuckles mirthlessly, shaking his head at the stupidity of the situation. “Good news is, though, we know who the rat is. He won’t be a problem anymore.”

You try not to think too hard about the implications of that.

“But still,” his expression hardens. “It’s a headache.”

Understatement. “Yeah,” you agree wholeheartedly. You imagine Javi having to deal with bureaucracy bullshit right after fighting for his life in a shootout. Anger flares in your chest. “I’m sorry.” The words burst out of you, impassioned and thoroughly useless. “They target you in the only way they know how, Peña. It’s because you’re a threat. You’re getting close, or they wouldn’t bother.”

He scoffs. “Yeah, tell that to the Lopez family. His wife is weeks away from delivering their first baby.” He raises the pitch of his voice, expression of mock sympathy twisting his face. “I’m so sorry, señora, but on the bright side, we are getting really close to catching Pablo Escobar.”

His words cut you like broken glass, rending you raw. You’re horrified to feel tears gathering in your eyes.

You can’t even be angry, though, because he’s right.

You inhale shakily, and he flops over, burying his face in your clavicle. You don’t even hesitate, just gather him closer, carding your free fingers over his neck and shoulders in earnest now. This is deep shit, goddammit, well beyond your realm of experience. You don’t know how to comfort him, you just know that he needs something, and you’re willing to offer whatever you have to give.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, squeezing your still-clasped hands to remind him that you’re here. He squeezes back, exhaling another deep, shuddering breath, and relaxes so far into your touch that his lips are resting in the hollow of your throat.

It occurs to you, suddenly, that you might be taking advantage of him. He’s here seeking your comfort, and as justified as that is, you’re not sure if it’s entirely fair to him, given how you feel. Not that you’re getting any sort of sexual or emotional gratification from this moment - not by a long shot. Still, though, it reeks of deception somehow.

Javi cracks an eye open, tilting his face up to question your sudden stillness.

“Is this okay?” you whisper, meeting his gaze. You’re not sure exactly what you’re asking. You’re feeling vulnerable, all flayed open and too-exposed, like you’re crossing a boundary of some sort. 'Can I touch you like this?' you wonder. 'Is it too intimate? Am I allowed to comfort you, just for comfort’s sake?'

‘Am I breaking the rules?’

He blinks up at you, and despite your best effort at remaining expressionless, those dark eyes pin you with an intensity that makes you swear he’s pulling the thoughts straight from your brain.

You stifle a gasp, barely managing to hold his gaze without blinking or squirming.

“Yeah,” Javi whispers after a long moment. He allows his eyes to flutter closed, and you breathe a long, slow sigh of relief. “It’s good.”

♠

You blink yourself awake early the next morning, squinting at the pale sunlight that filters through your smudged window.

You didn’t have the heart to leave Javi last night, and eventually, you’d both fallen into an exhausted sleep, an awkward tangle of limbs on your tiny sofa. He’s sprawled out with his head cocked back, right arm crushing a throw pillow beneath his jaw, one leg extended, the other foot draped over the coffee table. Sometime in the night, you’d nestled into the crook of his neck, unconsciously straddling his thigh, and he’d hooked his free arm around you, snaking a hand beneath your shirt to splay his fingers across the bare skin of your stomach.

You glance up, heart rate speeding double-time as awareness of your situation seeps in.

It’s not the first time you’ve woken up to Javier Peña. But never like this. Never on the sofa. Never pressed into him, all wrapped up and tangled in one another, warm and soft and sleepy. Never fully clothed, and definitely never after the vulnerability he’d allowed you to glimpse last night.

A rush of affection and deep, aching need floods your core. Your muscles tense unconsciously as your hips tilt into his leg, desperately seeking friction.

You stifle a gasp, sucking down the overwhelming urge to kiss him awake, to throw a leg over him properly and grind deliciously against his hips…

You stop, breathing raggedly.

You’ve always had a thing for morning sex. There’s something deliciously intimate about it, all hushed whispers and slow rocking beneath blankets, still clinging to the heat of sleep. It’s gentle and private, a secret without guile, and these new, intense feelings that you’re harboring for Javi have you absolutely leaking and trembling at the mere suggestion of it.

You have to get out of here.

Carefully, moving as slowly as your shaking muscles allow, you duck beneath his arm. He shifts, humming, and you catch your breath, watching carefully as he curls into himself with a soft sigh.

Goddamn.

You stand there for a long moment, heart hammering in your chest, confirming that he’s still out. You can’t help but trace his face with your eyes, noting the uneven patches of stubble that have grown in during the past three days, the curl of his dark lashes, the stripe of soft belly that his shirt leaves exposed, his hot, heavy breaths, slow and deep with sleep.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You run the shower hot, not even pretending to stifle your arousal. The thrum of the water is a welcome weight on your shoulders, tickling sensitive skin as it soaks your hair and sluices down your body. You follow its trail with your fingers, slipping them over pebbled nipples, teasing briefly, then dragging down your belly. The sound of the spray grounds you, drowning your moans. You recall the image that you awoke to, the pressure of Javi’s arm curled around you, your hips angled just perfectly over his thigh, the heat and slow, steady throb of life that pulsed from the crook of his neck.

You tilt your head just slightly, arching into him, peppering his jaw with gentle kisses. His eyes flutter open, and he shifts, opening himself to grant you access. You straddle him properly, sliding up his chest to curl into him, and he smiles lazily.

“Good morning,” you whisper, capturing him in a slow kiss, sucking gently at his lower lip.

“Mmm,” he moans incoherently into your mouth, still pliant with sleep. His erection digs into you, and you grind over it, one long, slow roll of your hips.

He bucks, hitching a sharp breath into your mouth.

“Javi,” You pull hard at your sex, mimicking the pressure of rocking against him, groaning and bucking into your hand. The water continues to beat steadily on your back and shoulders, and you slide to the floor, thumb teasing at your clit, fingers arching to find that perfect spot deep inside you.

You bring your opposite hand up to graze against your face, fingers spayed across your cheek, thumb dragging down your neck.

“Come here,” Javi grins lazily up at you. He cups your jaw in his hand, pulling you so close that your foreheads press together. You rub your cheek against his stubble, nipping gently at his pulse point as you line yourself up. You don’t need any foreplay - you’re already dripping for him. His eyes drift shut and his breath hitches as you slide down onto his cock as slowly as you can manage. You rock back and forth, finding an easy rhythm as you adjust to the pressure of his length inside you, and he bucks to meet you halfway, thrusting faster as you sink deeper.

“Is this okay?” he whispers up to you with doe eyes. He’s more awake now, but still soft, still gentle.

“Perfect,” you promise, adjusting your the angle as you bend down to kiss him again.

With no warning, he swipes his tongue greedily behind your teeth, sucking steadily as he circles your back to dig hard at your ass with those gigantic hands, arching deep into you at the same time.

You gasp. “Javi!”

The bathroom door slams open with a bang, and you’re jerked back to reality. Javi, real, live, awake Javi, is staring at you in wide-eyed shock.

You don’t even have time to be embarrassed.

His face hardens in an instant as he takes you in, eyes narrowing, lips curling into an expression that’s damn near feral. “What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses, spitting the ‘f’ hard.

“What’s it look like?” you answer breathlessly. You know you look ridiculous, panting on shower floor, knees hiked up with your feet pressed to the glass, fingers still nestled inside you. You are thoroughly exposed to him, and yeah, in the back of your mind, you know that there’s part of you that should be ashamed at being found in this position, but right now, there’s no room in you for any emotion except for anger.

It burns in you suddenly, white hot indignation. “Goddammit, Javi, what do you want??”

His face is disbelief and thunder, frozen in a snarl that is terrifying in its intensity. His fingers are curled at his sides, muscles braced for a fight. Your heart hammers in your chest. He is every inch the man who guns down killers for a living. “You called my name."

Ah, and there’s the shame. It floods you like water, cool and cloying, and suddenly, you’re desperate for the ground to open up and swallow you whole, shower and all.

“Oh,” you think you might say, or something similarly useless.

He growls, stalking forward as if he’s about to yank the shower door open, then stops as if jerked. You can only watch, transfixed, as his expression shifts from livid, to devastated, to carefully blank. It’s over in the blink of an eye, so quickly that you question the validity of your own observation, and then, before you can even think, Javi is whirling on his heel, slamming the door behind him with a ferocity that makes the glass walls shudder.

You lie there on the wet tiles, fingers still resting on your sex, reliving the scene over and over until the water runs cold.

You’d called his name.

Shouted it, or moaned it, or screamed it, who even knows. The point is, he’d heard you.

Wincing, you replay your fantasy, or what you can remember of it.

Well, shit.

The anger comes roiling back, poisoned with brittle resentment. You stand, shuddering as you slam the tap off.

That motherfucker.

He had no right. He’d slept in your house, eaten your food, barged into your bathroom, intruded on your private shower.

As if he belonged here.

‘But…’ shame whispers hoarsely in your ear, reminding you that you’d wanted him here. You’d welcomed him into your home, given him your goddamned spare key, rubbed his neck, tucked him in.

Fuck, you’d called his name.

With the second recollection comes vague fascination, and maybe curiosity. Javi was so angry. Furious, damned near trembling with it. That aborted little move toward you, as if he’d like to either strangle you or shove his tongue down your throat, you’re not sure which. The careful restraint, the hasty retreat.

What did it mean?

Arousal flares, but distant, dimmed. You’ll get off on this fantasy one day, you’re absolutely certain, but it will be a long time before the sting of the memory fades.

Slowly, shakily, you exit the shower, shivering as you reach for your towel. One thing is absolutely certain.

You really don’t want to go to work today.

♠

He doesn’t look at you.

You don’t look at him.

Well, then.

You’re tempted to make a snide crack about fragile masculinity’s fear of female sexuality, but then you remember how fucking observant he is, how attentive, cataloguing your every expression, noting what you liked and what you didn’t, how he’d make a point to watch you as you’d come, like he was savoring the experience every time.

Something shockingly akin to grief swells in your chest. Automatically, you shift to watch him from the corner of your eye. He’s hunched over his typewriter, shoulders slumped and head bowed, long fingers peck-pecking away, brow furrowed in concentration.

It’s the same little furrow that you recognize from when he’d first studied the card game you’d left on your coffee table. You recognize the shoulder-slump, too, and the stiffness he’s carrying in his body, as if stress is locking all of his muscles painfully in place. He’d been that way last night, too, when he’d first come home.

You inhale sharply. You can’t fucking do this anymore.

You rise suddenly, nearly knocking your chair over with the force of the motion. You gather your notebook and pens, nodding to Jacoby as you exit the room.

“I’d like to request a transfer,” you announce as soon as Strechner lets you into his office.

It’s bold of you. Bill Stechner, CIA station chief in Colombia, is your boss’ boss’ boss. He is undeniably a big fish, important enough that he is rarely available even by appointment, aloof and irreverent and informal by all accounts. You’ve spoken to him only once, for all of thirty seconds.

“Oh really?” Stechner hardly glances up from the magazine he’s reading. “And why’s that?”

“I’d like to take a more active role in Centra Spike,” you barrel on. “You’ve seen my credentials, sir - fifty-four recon fly-overs in Kuwait, along with advanced training in data analytics and RDF. The training required will be minimal, I’ve proven myself capable here.”

Stechner clicks his tongue, setting the magazine aside. “Have you?” he wonders. “Because I was lead to believe that the Medellín sting that was initiated on your intel was an unprecedented failure.”

Well goddamn, this was a mistake. Anger and shame flood you, and you can feel the blood draining from your face. Stechner’s thoroughly blasé tone isn’t helping staunch your reaction at all. You draw a deep breath, biting the inside of your cheek hard enough to draw blood.

“I refuse to take responsibility for that, sir -”

He scoffs, waving you off with a lazy hand. “Bill, please. Or Stechner, if you must. We don’t do formalities here.” He tugs at his canvas jacket and lifts a brow in your direction. “You were saying?”

“I was saying, Mister Stechner,” you speak slowly and calmly, as if addressing a small child, “that I cannot take responsibility for the corruption of the Colombian National Police.” You take another deep breath and continue. “The intel that I vetted for Centra Spike was good. We both know it. Those deaths fall on Martinez and the men in Medellín. Not me.”

Stechner watches your for a long minute, head cocked in consideration.

You force yourself to shut up. Your heart is beating so loud that you’re certain that he can hear it, and you want nothing more than to slam the door shut on your way out of his office and be through with this conversation.

After an eternity, Stechner hums. His expression doesn’t change, but you get the feeling that you’ve passed some sort of test.

You hold your breath, waiting.

You need this.

“How’s your Spanish?” he asks after a long moment.

You don’t even hesitate. “Mejorando, señor.” It’s not quite a lie - you are getting better.

Stechner raises his eyebrows in challenge.

You meet his gaze, expressionless.

Suddenly, Stechner grins. “I’ll consider it,” he says, rising to his feet.

You return the smile tightly, a wash of relief rushing over you. "Thank you, sir."

♠

Word travels fast at headquarters.

“Heard you applied for a transfer,” Murphy calls as you duck past his little corner of the hallway. “Ballsy of you, confronting Stechner like that.”

“Applied,” you remind him firmly, doing your best not to react to the way Javi stiffens behind him. “We’ll see what happens.”

Murphy smirks. “Well, I heard you got it.” He clasps your shoulder. “Congrats, Ears. That’s great.”

“Thanks, Murph,” you smile wanly at him.

Somehow, you don’t feel like celebrating.

♠

author’s notes/confessions:

inspired by a conversation with @tiffdawg - she gets all of the credit for this hot mess. Tiff, if you’re sick of tags, just let me know. :)

masturbation scenes are a nightmare of tenses. Again, I welcome comments and gentle criticisms. I am well out of my depth here.

part of the Better Love ‘verse. Check it out on AO3 {here}.

Merry Christmas to those of us who are celebrating today. Love you all!

434 notes · View notes

maybeimamuppet · 3 years

Text

it takes a village

hey hey little muppets!! happy wednesday!! this is a request fill for gracerailly on ao3 who requested the poly-stics babysitting cadnis' kids.

cw/tw for depression/depressive episodes

otherwise, enjoy!!

---

Cady wakes up to chattering coming through the baby monitor.

Which is unusual, because Janis usually wakes her up with their twins. But today, Janis is still in bed next to her and gives a quiet groan when she hears the noise.

“Jay?” Cady asks groggily. “What’s the matter?”

Janis groans again and flops onto her back, bringing her hands up to sign. That’s never good, Janis only uses sign language when things are especially bad for her.

“Can’t move,” she signs. “Feel… heavy. Slow. Dead.”

“Oh, my love,” Cady hums sadly, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “Do you think you’re having a depressive episode?”

Janis nods slowly. Cady can tell she’s using a great deal of energy to bring her hands up again. “The girls.”

“I’ll get them up for today, don’t worry about it,” Cady says immediately. “You relax. Everything’s okay.”

Janis pouts but nods again, letting her hands drop back to her side. Cady pecks her nose gently before she goes to get their daughters up.

They’re both awake, standing up in their cribs and waiting for someone to come get them ready. Both of them look her way when Cady switches the light on, with their adorable frizzy curls and sleepy blue eyes.

“Good morning, my little loves!” She says happily, going to give them their morning kisses. “Did you have good dreams?” Both twins nod happily. “Good, that makes Mama so happy.”

“Where Mommy?” Layla asks, rubbing her eyes and holding onto her stuffed elephant. Cady pauses for a second. How does she explain this in terms they can understand?

For now, a white lie won’t hurt anything. “Mommy’s still asleep, Mama gets to get you ready today.”

Leo reaches out first, so Cady grabs her and carries her over to be changed before swapping her out with Layla to do the same.

“There we go, all clean! Let’s go have breakfast,” Cady says happily, scooping them both up and carrying them downstairs to the kitchen.

“Mama?” Layla pipes up. Cady smooches her chubby little cheek a few times.

“Yes, Ladybug?”

“We hab f’uit?” Layla asks. “P’ease?”

“Yeah, of course you can have fruit,” Cady says. “Good pleases, too, that’s a good girl. Bumblebee, do you want fruit too?”

Leo just nods. She’s less of a morning person than her twin. Cady sets them both in their high chairs and buckles them in for safety, then washes some blueberries for them to eat.

Leo picks at hers, resting her elbows on her tray and holding her head in her little hands.

“What’s the matter, Lolo?” Cady asks sadly while she gives the pets their own breakfast and prepares some quick cereal for herself.

“Miss Mommy,” Leo says with a precious little pout. “Want cuddle.”

“Aww, sweetheart,” Cady says. “Mommy’s still here, she’s just upstairs. And we can go see if she wants to cuddle after breakfast.”

Leo perks up a little bit at the reminder that her mommy is still there, just not at breakfast, and starts eating her blueberries with a bit more speed. She and Layla chatter away about their plans for the day while they eat. Cady can’t quite understand what they’re saying, but she grins at the interactions regardless.

“All done,” Layla says when her blueberries are finished. Leo shoves her last few in her mouth and chews them with a nod of agreement.

“Good job, girls! Okay, let’s wash our hands and then we can go see Mommy,” Cady says. She grabs each from her chair and helps them wash the berry juice off their tiny hands, then carries them back up to the main bedroom to find Janis. “Jay? You up for a cuddle?”

Janis rolls over and gives a weak grin when she sees her whole family there waiting for her. She nods and gestures them over with a hand, so Cady sets the twins down to run over to her.

“Be gentle, girls,” she says quietly, following after them. She scoops Leo up and helps her get on the bed since she was struggling to make it. Layla sits and cuddles in on top of Janis while Leo nuzzles into her side. They both can clearly tell something’s off.

“Mommy sick?” Layla asks. “Need med’cine?”

Janis chuckles weakly and brushes a hand through Layla’s messy hair. Cady can tell it’s taking nearly all of her energy just to cuddle their babies, but Janis forces herself to keep going.

“Kind of, but medicine won’t fix it this time,” Janis says quietly. “I just need cuddles and sleep.”

“Wha’s wrong?” Leo asks, unfortunately curious. How do you explain depression to some barely two year olds? Cady thinks for a second before she tries to explain.

“You girls know how Aunt Reggie is a doctor? And she talks to people who are sad or scared or mad a lot, to help them feel better?” Cady begins. Both twins look her way and nod. “Some of the people Aunt Reggie talks to have something called depression. That’s a tough word, can you say it?”

Both girls try, sounding closer to ‘press in’ than anything else.

“Yeah, good job! But Mommy has depression too. Sometimes it makes her sad, or sometimes angry, or scared. Today it’s just making her really tired. But she’ll feel better soon, and then she can play with you again.”

“I can fissit?” Layla asks, wanting her mommy to be better now.

“You can’t fix it this time, Ladybug,” Cady says sadly. “But we can help Mommy feel better by giving her cuddles and letting her rest. We love her bunches, huh?”

Both girls nod and cuddle in again, trying to squeeze every ounce of love for their mommy into the snuggles. Layla even leans in to leave a wet, but sweet kiss on her forehead. “Mmmmwah!”

“Thank you, girls,” Janis says with a weak chuckle. “What did you have for breakfast?”

Cady knows that the twins are going to talk for a while, which buys her some time to track down a babysitter. She pulls out her phone and is about to shoot off a text to Damian before she remembers that he’s out of town visiting family. Aaron went with him, so that just leaves the Plastics. Oh boy. It’s worth a shot.

spacecadet: Hey is there any way you guys could take the smalls for the day?? Janis is having a depressive episode and I need to be able to take care of her

georgewashington: Are you sure you want us to? What about Damian?

spacecadet: He’s out of town for the week. I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, I know you’re still sorta wary of them

georgewashington: I just don’t want to hurt them, or make you guys upset. Janis would never forgive me if something happened to them because of me.

spacecadet: Regina, you don’t have to worry about stuff like that. Unless it was something major we could never be mad. And Janis does trust you, she’s just protective

georgewashington: If you’re sure, we can take them. Gretchen’s working from home today, so we’ll all be here. What should I do?

spacecadet: Oh, thank you so much!! All they’ll really need from you guys is somewhere to nap and someone to play with. I’ll pack them some toys and things they’ll need and I can drop them off

spacecadet: Just maybe hide anything stainable, breakable, or expensive :/ they are toddlers

georgewashington: Okay, I’ll prep what I can. See you soon.

spacecadet: Thank you so much, Regina!!

Cady switches her phone back off and rolls out of the bed. Once she’s changed out of her pajamas, she goes to get her babies. “Okay girls, should we go get dressed?”

Layla crawls over when she reaches out, but Leo doesn’t want to leave Janis.

“Wha’bout Mommy?” She asks sadly.

“We can come see Mommy again for a little bit when you’re done, Mama will go fast,” Cady coaxes. Leo thinks for a second before she also comes to be picked up. “Yeah, there we go.”

Cady carries both babies back down the hall to their bedroom and sticks both in Leo’s crib to keep them contained.

“Do you want to match or dress different today, pumpkins?” She asks, rooting through their dresser for some outfits.

“Mash,” both twins say at the same time. Cady chuckles and pulls out two of everything she needs. Two green shirts, two pairs of soft black jeans, two pairs of socks. Layla reaches for her first this time, so she heads to scoop her out and rests her on the ground in front of her.

Layla giggles when Cady pops her shirt over her head and surprises her with a kiss on the other side. Cady smiles back until they reach the socks, which are always a struggle. Luckily for her, Layla cooperates and is quickly dressed and subbed out for Leo.

Cady repeats the process on her second daughter before she heads to their closet to grab the finishing touches. Two tiny pairs of white high top converse that match her own, and two of the jean jackets Janis painted to match her old ones. These have teddy bears on the back, which are absolutely adorable.

“Mommy painted these for you while you two were still in my tummy,” Cady says, resting them on the rail of Leo’s crib.

“In you tummy?” Leo asks interestedly. Cady nods and carries them both to see the pictures on their bulletin board. That’s a more recent addition to the room, and full of pictures of all the people important to the twins.

Cady points to one of her maternity photos, specifically at her belly. “You two were in here. That’s where you grew for a while.”

They both look curiously at the photo, then down at their own tummies. “How we come out?”

“Um… we can talk about that another day, let’s go do your hair,” Cady says quickly. Before the twins can say anything else she carries them into the bathroom and pops them down on the counter. She gives them each a comb to play with and then sprays them down with some detangling hairspray, brushing their dark curls out to a more manageable state.

She splits Leo’s down the middle and ties hers in space buns on top of her head, then gives Layla one ponytail so the Plastics can tell them apart more easily.

“I have a surprise for you, girls,” Cady says as she roots through the basket for some hair bows, per Leo’s request. They both perk up at the mention of a surprise and look to her interestedly. “You guys get to go to Aunt Reggie’s house today, isn’t that cool?”

“Aunt Weggie house?” Layla asks curiously. They’ve never been to Aunt Reggie’s house, Uncle D is their usual babysitter.

“Yeah! You get to go play with her and Aunt GG and Auntie Karen and Nutmeg,” Cady says, clipping the green bows to their hair ties.

“Wow,” Leo says excitedly. Cady laughs and picks them up again to carry them back to Janis.

“Mommy,” Layla calls happily, running back to Janis’ side of the bed. Janis helps her back up for another round of cuddles. “We go Aunt Weggie house!”

Leo wriggles her way up again as well, and Janis grabs her for snuggles too. Once she has her babies safely back in her hold, she raises a suspicious eyebrow at her wife.

“Just for the day, they’ll be fine,” Cady groans. “Damian’s still out of town and I want to be able to give you my full attention.”

Janis shrugs and brings her daughters up for some kisses, making them both giggle in delight. Cady takes the time to go pack some supplies for the girls while Janis has them occupied.

She packs enough diapers to last them each a week, some extra clothes in case of disaster, a few of their favorite small toys and activities, their pacifiers, and their stuffies. They already have sippy cups and other dishes there, since Damian insisted on buying everyone some just in case there was ever an emergency and they had to babysit. Turns out it was a great idea.

When Cady brings the jackets, backpacks, and shoes back into the bedroom to finish getting her daughters ready, she finds Leo carefully stroking her little hands through Janis’ hair, while Layla sits on Janis’ belly and is thoroughly explaining all the things she wants to do at her aunts’ house.

She chuckles at the precious sight before she enters the room and snatches Layla up for tickles and kisses. Layla shrieks in surprise, but quickly starts laughing and trying to push her away. Cady carefully rests her down and gets her tiny shoes on, and Janis grins when she sees the cute jacket Cady tugs onto Layla’s arms.

Leo goes next, giggling anxiously and curling into Janis for protection as Cady looms ominously overhead. She squeals when she’s snatched up by the mama claw and brought in for her round of kisses and tickles. Once her shoes and jacket are on, it’s time for them to go.

“Okay girls, give Mommy hugs, we gotta go,” she says quietly. Janis grunts slightly as both twins jump on top of her for one last cuddle before they head off.

“Bye girls,” Janis whispers. “I love you.”

“Luh you, Mommy!” Both twins call at the same time. Janis chuckles and kisses them one last time before Cady scoops them up and rests them on the ground.

“Get some rest, love,” Cady murmurs, bending down to kiss her wife. “I’ll be back soon, text me if you need anything.”

Janis nods and curls back into bed. Cady flips the light off on their way out and follows the twins to the car.

—————-

“Whoa,” both twins say when they see the apartment building. Cady realizes she probably should have explained that their aunties don’t live in the whole thing.

“Big house,” Leo says slightly anxiously. Cady chuckles and picks them both up to carry them in.

“Your aunties live here with other people,” Cady explains. “There’s a bunch of little houses in the building that other families live in.”

Cady carries them past the main desk and to the elevators. Leo gets to push the button to call it, and then Layla pushes the button to get up to the right floor.

“Can you knock?” Cady asks, since both her hands are full. Both of them helpfully rap their little fists against the door. “Good job. There’s Auntie Karen!”

“Hey!” Karen says happily. “Come in!”

Cady enters and sets the twins down. Layla toddles off immediately, making a beeline for Nutmeg.

“Dog, dog, dog,” she says happily on her way. “Doggy! I pet, p’ease?”

“Yes, you can pet her,” Karen chuckles. “Hi Leo.”

“Hi,” Leo replies quietly, pressing against Cady’s leg with a heartbreaking pout. Leo’s always been her anxious one, and is clearly frightened at the prospect of facing a new environment all alone.

Cady crouches down to comfort her, stroking some stray hairs away from her baby’s face. “You’re gonna be okay, Bee. Aunt Reggie and Aunt GG and Aunt Karen are gonna play with you, Mama put all your toys in your backpack. And you have Georgie in there too, he’ll give you cuddles if you get scared. And then you get to take your nap, and probably have lunch.”

“Wha’ lunch?” Leo asks.

“I don’t know, we’ll have to see what they have for you, but I bet it’ll be so yummy,” Cady says. “But you’re gonna be safe, little love. Your aunties will protect you, and they can call or text me on my phone if you need me. And I’ll be back to get you in a while, okay?”

“Okay Mama,” Leo says.

“That’s my brave girl,” Cady says happily, pecking her forehead and standing up. “Oh, there’s Aunt GG!”

Leo runs over immediately for a hug. She and Gretchen have a special bond, which Cady is always happy to see. Regina pops out of the kitchen too, upon hearing the commotion that the twins bring everywhere they go.

“Aww,” she coos when she sees Leo cuddled up with her girlfriend. She comes over to Cady to urgently ask, “Which one is that?”

“Leo,” Cady chuckles. “She has space buns, Layla has a ponytail.”

“Got it,” Regina says. She looks down when she feels something tug on her pant leg. “Oh, hi Layla.”

“Hi!” Layla says excitedly. Regina just looks at her for a second, not totally sure what to do. Layla reaches to be picked up, so Regina bends down and scoops her off the floor.

“I should get back to Janis soon,” Cady says. “I’ll have my phone, you can text or call if anything comes up.”

“Sounds good,” Gretchen says, still holding Leo. She sets her down for a second and says, “Go say bye to your mama.”

Regina sets Layla down too, and both twins run to give Cady a goodbye hug and kiss.

“Mwah. I love you, girls. Be good, I’ll be back to get you later,” Cady says, kissing both of their foreheads and holding them close before releasing them back. “Have fun!”

—-

Regina notices Leo hunch in on herself a little bit and look around anxiously when Cady leaves. Layla is fine and very occupied trying to play with a lazy Nutmeg. Regina still doesn’t quite know how to handle the twins, but Leo is clearly frightened. She knows how to deal with that.

She heads over and crouches down in front of her, but leaves some distance so Leo doesn’t feel crowded. “Hi, honey. Can you show me what you have in your backpack?”

Leo nods and sits down across from her, removing her little backpack and resting it on the ground in front of her. “Help p’ease?”

“Okay,” Regina says, undoing the zipper for her. “What do you have there?” Leo reaches in and carefully pulls out her stuffed giraffe. “Who’s that?”

“Georgie,” Leo says quietly. “He gi’affe.”

“That’s so cool,” Regina says. “Should we show Georgie around so he knows where everything is?”

Leo nods, so Regina stands and picks up the baby to give her a little tour. Leo holds tightly to her stuffed friend and looks around curiously.

“This is the kitchen,” Regina says. She lets Leo look around at all the things on the walls, giving her time to adjust. When Leo looks back to her, they move on. “And this is the living room.” Leo’s seen this, it’s where the entryway leads to and where Layla is currently playing with Karen and Gretchen. She looks around for a short while before she’s ready to move on. “And this is the office, this is where we do our work, and over there is the bathroom.”

“Where sleep?” Leo asks, so Regina shows her the two bedrooms.

“This is where Aunt GG and Aunt Karen and I sleep, and then this is the bedroom for when we have people come sleep over,” Regina says. Leo looks around curiously before giving a nod. “What do you think?”

“Big,” Leo says. Regina chuckles and nods.

“It is pretty big. Oh, do you want to see something fun?”

Leo nods interestedly, so Regina carries her to see the axolotls in the tank in their bedroom.

“Fishy!” Leo says excitedly, pointing to the tank. “Ooh.”

“They’re called axolotls,” Regina explains. Leo tries to say it, but it just sounds more like ‘blelele’. “Yeah, close enough!”

“Name?” Leo asks, looking curiously at the strange creatures. Regina holds her at a different angle so she can see better and points to each one.

“This one is named Versace, and this is Gucci,” she says. “And then waaaaay back here is Louboutin The Second.”

Leo giggles. “Silly name.”

“They are, just a little,” Regina agrees. “Okay, let’s go find your sister, hm?” Leo nods, so they head back to the living room. Layla has finally been satisfied with the amount of doggy cuddles she’s been given and left the poor creature alone. She’s now busy explaining her toys to Gretchen and Karen.

Gretchen looks up when they come back, and smiles when she sees Leo cuddled into Regina’s shoulder. “Do you wanna come play?”

Leo nods, so Regina sets her down and lets her run over to her twin and their toys. Regina jumps a little when she feels an arm slide gently around her waist to rub that one spot on her lower back, and a sweet peck pressed to her neck.

“You’re really good with her,” Gretchen whispers. “It’s cute.”

Regina shakes her head and pulls her closer. “I’m not. I just know how to calm people down. I don’t even know how to play with them.”

“Just try,” Gretchen says quietly, kissing her cheek gently and heading back over. Regina watches as Karen and Gretchen play legos with the twins, building masterpieces and then taking them apart to make new ones. Gretchen makes it sound so simple, just try. But Regina wouldn’t even know where to begin.

So she just watches. Leo sits on Karen’s lap and builds her creations, and Layla stands in between the couch and the coffee table in order to make hers. Regina takes a sneaky picture of Leo explaining her tower to Karen.

“Aww,” she coos quietly when she sees how it came out.

“Send that to Janis, she’d like that,” Gretchen chuckles.

Layla looks over at her curiously. “Aunt GG?”

“Yeah?”

“Who… um… Janis?” Layla asks, lisping the end but managing to get the sound out.

“Janis is your mommy, that’s her name,” Gretchen explains.

“No,” Leo says with a head shake, joining their discussion.

“No?”

“Mommy name… uhm… love,” Leo explains. The Plastics all fight to contain a coo, looking at each other.

“Mommy’s name is love?” Karen asks. Both twins nod. “And what’s your mama’s name?”

Janis tends to switch between nicknames for Cady more often, so they’re curious to see what her ‘name’ is.

“Baby,” Layla says.

“No,” Leo disagrees. “Mama Bullaf’y.”

“I don’t know.” Layla says eventually.

“That’s okay,” Regina chuckles. “You’ll learn it soon.”

—————

“Hey, Jay, how you feeling?” Cady asks gently as she heads back into her bedroom. Janis groans quietly when she flips the light on. “You know it gets worse if you just sit here in the dark all day. You need light. You’re like a plant.”

Janis pouts at her. Cady kicks off her shoes and crawls back in next to her for a snuggle.

“The girls are fine, the Plastics seemed really excited,” she says quietly. “It’s kind of nice, isn’t it? Just us for a day.”

Janis nods. They both love their daughters more than the world, but it is nice to have a break from time to time. Even if the circumstances surrounding it are less than ideal.

Cady’s phone dings in her pocket, so she fishes it out to see who’s messaging her.

“Speak of the devil. Aww,” she chuckles, holding it so Janis can see.

reginald: Sent a picture: Play time

reginald: Also, just thought we’d let you know, they don’t know your names.

spacecadet: Really?

reginald: They can’t decide if yours is baby or butterfly, and they think Janis’ name is love.

spacecadet: Oh my goodness

reginald: It’s actually really cute. Gretch said to send that picture to Janis and Layla didn’t know who that was.

spacecadet: At least they don’t think our names are mama and mommy anymore. Are you guys still good?

reginald: Yeah, everything’s good. Leo just needed a little tour and now she’s all settled in. And Layla and Nutmeg are best buds.

spacecadet: Haha, poor pooch. She’s always after Daffy and Ellie too

reginald: Oh, Nutmeg loves it. She just gets to lay there and be cuddled, it’s her dream come true.

spacecadet: Well you guys can have the twins anytime so she can get her snuggle seshes in

reginald: Sounds like a plan, I’ll let Nutmeg know. We’ll probably keep sending you stuff, too.

spacecadet: Please do, you guys are so good with them. Thanks again <3

reginald: Of course.

Janis chuckles as she reads over their conversation too. Cady cuddles her closer and pecks her forehead.

“Did you eat?” She asks. Janis shakes her head. “Okay. I’m gonna go get you something, I’ll be right back.”

Janis pouts again, so Cady leans down to kiss her a few times before she leaves. Janis grins contently and settles deeper in under the covers.

——————

Karen continues playing with the twins for a few hours, and Regina stays to watch. Gretchen has some new designs to work on and heads into the office for some quiet.

Regina’s making progress with the twins, eventually even coloring a picture with them once they pull out some crayons and paper. They both eagerly compliment her drawing of a rabbit.

It’s almost relaxing, in a strange way. Karen makes conversation with everyone as she draws a duck, and the twins seem to be warming up even more to the environment.

Relaxing until Layla suddenly snatches the same crayon Leo wanted to add another beautiful scribble to her page. Leo whines a, “Hey!” and scrambles to take it back. Layla shrieks and holds it out of her reach, and suddenly they’re both in tears.

Karen and Regina look to each other in concern at the two little tantrum tornados they now have to deal with, and each gently pick up a twin so they can’t reach each other. Karen looks very anxious as Leo thrashes in her hold and releases a shriek that so loud they can’t quite figure out how such a small person managed it. Apparently quiet little Leo is actually the screamer of the two.

Layla seems to be more physical, wriggling to be put down so she can get back at her sister. Regina refuses to let her down, knowing it’ll only get worse if she does. Time for some desperate measures.

She manages to carry a wiggling and screaming toddler into the kitchen in one arm, doing a strange sort of fireman’s carry. It works well enough. She grabs two of the sippy cups they have and fills them with some cold water.

Karen is now holding Leo as far away as she possibly can, trying desperately to keep her grip as Leo kicks and shrieks like a banshee in her hold.

“Good lord,” Regina murmurs under her breath. “Hey!”

Her tone isn’t mean, or harsh, just loud. Both twins briefly stop their antics to look at her, knowing they might be in some serious trouble here.

She hands Karen one of the cups to give to Leo. “I need both of you to take some big drinks for me, okay? You’re gonna run out of tears to cry, we have to give you more.”

They both take their cups with a very serious look in their eye and drink a good bit of their water. They don’t want to run out of tears, that would be bad.

“Good job,” Regina congratulates when they pull away with a gasp. It’s a trick she was taught in college, that actually regulates their breathing and helps calm people down in intense moments. “Now you’re gonna take a nap. And we can have a talk when you wake up.”

For safety, they decide to keep them apart. Layla gets set up for her nap in the master bedroom, and Leo in the guest room. They make little barriers with pillows so they don’t fall out of bed and give them the best blankets, then leave them with their stuffed animals, pacifiers, and cups of water to rest.

“Fucking hell,” Regina breathes when she shuts the door to where Leo is resting. “Where do they get the energy for that?”

“Revenge is a big deal for toddlers,” Karen shrugs. “They don’t like when things aren’t fair.”

“Christ,” Regina sighs, sitting down and rubbing her temples. Karen sits down as well. “They’re so sweet, usually, what-what happened?”

“I know what you’re thinking, and no it’s not,” Karen responds. Regina looks at her in shock, wondering how she could’ve possibly known. “It’s not your fault, and you’re not a bad aunt. Do you know how impressive what you just did is? You got two toddlers to stop having a tantrum. That’s, like, really special.”

“But they only started getting upset when I started playing with them. All I can do is… stop them crying or whatever,” Regina grumbles. “I don’t know how to interact with them, or-or play with them.”

“They were upset because they were overtired,” Karen hushes, letting Regina lean onto her shoulder. “We just should’ve had them nap sooner, that’s all. But you’re really special, you know.”

“Hmm?”

“You treat them like people,” Karen says quietly. “That’s, like, super rare. You showed Leo around when she got here instead of just making her go play, and you helped them calm down instead of yelling at them for being too loud or whatever. That’s what’ll help them the most.”

Regina gives a noncommittal hum and accepts the comfort offered by her girlfriend.

“And even if you don’t really play with them that much, they still like you,” Karen continues. “You still talk to them, and give them cool stuff. Playing isn’t the only way to interact with them.”

“I guess,” Regina agrees. “You’re good with them too.”

“They’re easy!” Karen says happily. “But I’m still a kid at heart, I guess. They’re easy for me to relate to, or whatever.”

Regina chuckles. “I can see that. You’ve always been the fun one.”

“Thanks,” Karen laughs back. “You okay now?”

“Yeah. Thank you, honey,” Regina says quietly, leaning in for a quick kiss. “I love you.”

Karen beams, it’s quite rare that Regina says ‘I love you’ first. “I love you too.”

——————

Leo wakes up from her nap first. Gretchen had been hiding in the study throughout the crayon debacle, leaving it to her girlfriends to handle. But the office is closer to the bedrooms, so she decides to be the one to go comfort Leo as she hears her start to cry.

“Hey, Leo lady, good morning,” she says gently. Leo scrambles down off the big bed she’s on and runs in for some comfort. “What happened?”

“Dark,” Leo whimpers, sniffling into Gretchen’s shoulder. “‘N big. Scared.”

“Aww, I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Gretchen hushes. “You don’t need to be scared, nothing here can hurt you. See?”

Leo nods in relief when she flips the light back on. “T’ank you.”

“Of course, honey. I think Karen is making lunch, are you hungry?” Gretchen asks, shutting the light back off and carrying her back into the kitchen. Leo nods and rubs her eyes blearily. She’s not quite awake yet.

“Hey, Leo,” Regina says quietly. “Good morning.”

“Hi,” Leo yawns. Regina chuckles gently.

“Do you feel better?”

Leo nods again. “Wha’ lunch?”

“I don’t know, we have a lot of things here,” Regina answers. “What would you like?”

Leo shrugs, so Gretchen carries her in to see her lunch options. Karen looks up from her sandwich when she hears them come in. “Hey, kiddo! Did you have a good nap?”

Leo nods with a little smile. “Auntie Kawen lunch?”

“Yeah! I’m having a sandwich, do you want one?” Karen asks. Leo nods. “Okay, what kind?”

Leo wiggles a little bit, so Gretchen sets her down to go look at the options. She and Karen both chuckle as Leo picks a large jar of peanut butter out of the cabinet and hands it to Karen.

“Dis p’ease,” she says. Karen takes it from her and unscrews the lid.

“Okay, do you want jelly in it too?”

“No t’ank you.”

“Okay, good job! I’ll bring it to you in a second,” Karen says. Leo runs back to Gretchen to spend some time together while they wait on lunch.

When they head back to the living room, Regina is gone. Leo looks around in confusion until she comes back with her twin. Regina beckons her over, so Leo lets go of Gretchen’s hand and heads over to her other aunt.

Regina sets Layla down next to her. “Do you two feel better now?” They both nod. “Good. Being angry like that is no fun, huh?” They both shake their heads. “Say sorry for fighting, then we can go play again.”

“Sorry Leo,” Layla says sheepishly.

“Sorry Lala,” Leo replies, wrapping her twin in a hug. Layla hugs her back for a second, popping up on her tippy toes to squeeze her sister.

“Sorry Aunt Weggie,” Layla adds. “Fer sc’eaming.” Leo nods to agree.

“Thank you for your apology, girls. Layla, let’s go pick your lunch and then you can play some more,” Regina says, picking them both back up and carrying them to the kitchen.

“There they are,” Gretchen says when they return. “Leo, your sandwich is ready, do you want something to drink with it?”

Leo nods and heads over to see what they have in the fridge, while Layla goes to Karen to pick her meal. She also just picks a sandwich and is quickly released to go pick her own beverage. Leo chooses apple juice, and Layla picks milk.

Surprisingly, each twin finishes about half of her sandwich. Karen helps them down off their chairs and releases them back to the living room for more playing. Leo dives right in and pulls out a small puzzle she brought, pulling out all the animals and trying to work out where they go again. Layla does her own for a while, but gets bored pretty quickly.

So she decides to go on a short adventure. Her Aunt GG disappeared into a room a while ago, so Layla heads off to find her.

Gretchen turns when she hears noises at the glass door to the office, spinning around in her chair to find Layla on her tippy toes trying to reach the doorknob. It takes a few tries, but she manages to open it and toddles into the room victoriously.

“Hi GG!” She chirps happily. Gretchen laughs and beckons her over.

“Hi Layla. What are you up to?” She chuckles, pulling her into her lap and re-doing Layla’s ponytail since it got messed up during her nap. Layla seems delighted to be sitting at the big desk where her aunties do their work.

“Lolo do puzzle,” Layla explains. “Don’t wan’ to.”

“Aww. That’s okay, do you wanna help me with a few things?” Gretchen replies. Layla nods eagerly, so Gretchen wheels them closer to the desk and pulls over a design she’s working on for a client.

“Ooh,” Layla says. “P’etty.”

“Thank you,” Gretchen chuckles. “I have to draw it first, and then I make it a real dress people can wear later.” Layla looks at her in awe. “I know, right? Here, help me with this. What color should I make these flowers here?”

Layla suddenly feels a massive amount of responsibility weigh on her two year old shoulders. This is very important. “Uhm… uh… lellow.”

“Yellow?” Gretchen asks. “That would be really pretty, actually, good job! Yellow would look nice with the blue here. Good pick!”

Layla gives a happy little wiggle on her lap, and watches eagerly as Gretchen sketches the flowers in with a yellow pencil.

“Aunt GG?” Layla pipes up as Gretchen moves onto another area.

“Yeah?”

“Me too?” Layla says. “P’ease?”

Gretchen chuckles. “You want a dress?” Layla nods. “Okay, we can try that. Here.”

She sketches out another model, with about the same proportions as Layla.

“Here, stand up, that’ll make this easier. How long should we make the skirt?” Gretchen asks, popping Layla onto her feet and crouching down in front of her. She points to her ankle, just below her knee, and just above her knee. “Which one?”

Layla looks at her legs for a long moment before she points above her knee. Gretchen smiles and nods.

“That’s what I would have picked too. And should it go out big or be closer to your body?” Gretchen asks, demonstrating where each type would fall. Layla picks a big poofy skirt. “Oh, yeah. You got some good style, chica. Now the sleeves, where should they go?”

Layla watches as Gretchen points to her wrist, just above her elbow, and her shoulder. She points to her shoulder when Gretchen takes her hand away and giggles as Gretchen tickles her.

“Okay, come see,” Gretchen says, picking her back up and resting her on her lap again. Layla smiles happily when she sees the form of the dress. “Now we get to pick what colors and patterns it has. What’s your favorite color?”

“Uhm… g’een,” Layla replies, pointing to her t-shirt. Gretchen grabs two different greens that would look good with a dress this shape, one closer to an emerald and the other a lighter fern sort of shade.

“Which green?” She asks, holding them in front of Layla. Layla picks the lighter one. “Ooh, yeah.” Gretchen carefully makes the skirt green, a plan for fabrics already starting to come together in her mind. “Now what should we do with the top bit?”

“Uh…” Layla says. “Sparkledy.”

“Sparkly? I didn’t even think of that,” Gretchen hums. She pencils it in the same color and adds marks to make sure she knows the bodice should be sequined. “You could be a designer too, Lala, look at this cool dress we drew!”

Layla giggles and looks proudly at the drawing. “Now make it?”

“I can’t make it right now, but yeah, soon! All my stuff to make it is at my work,” Gretchen explains. “Here, let’s take a picture to show your moms, they’re gonna be so proud of you.”

Layla smiles when Gretchen holds her phone up for a selfie, and laughs as her auntie kisses her cheek with an exaggerated smooch sound. “Cheeeese.”

————-

Cady reaches an arm out of the bath she’s dragged her wife into taking when her phone pings with a text. She carefully unlocks it to find a few messages from Gretchen.

fetchen: Sent a picture: i have a new assistant!

spacecadet: Aww! She looks so happy <3

fetchen: Sent a picture: no, seriously, she designed this dress basically herself

fetchen: are you open to having the girls as models at some point?? i’m kind of thinking i should start a children’s line

“No,” Janis pipes up quietly, having read through the conversation as well.

“Not even for Gretchen? It’s not like it’s a huge company. And how cute would they be in outfits like that?” Cady pleads. She’s wary of the idea as well, but knows Gretchen would handle everything safely.

Janis considers this aspect, and has to admit her daughters would make excellent models. Maybe she can make an exception for Gretchen. “Fine.”

spacecadet: You should, we’ll buy all your designs

spacecadet: And if they’re into the idea I don’t see why they couldn’t model for you. Layla loves a camera

fetchen: haha i’ll have to get Gina to take some pics of her then! she’s been looking for a way to connect with them anyway

spacecadet: Aww, how sweet. They love all of you

fetchen: that’s what I keep trying to tell her! anyway, I should probably get back to work with Lala. tell Janis I say hi!!

spacecadet: Of course!! Thank you <3

Janis nuzzles into her neck as she flicks the phone back off and sighs, in a mix of exhaustion and contentment.

“Layla must take after you,” Cady murmurs. “Little artist.”

Janis grins gently against her. “We’ll see.”

—————

“There you are,” Regina says as she enters the office to find Layla with Gretchen. “What are you two up to?”

“GG make d’esses!” Layla says happily. “I helpin’.”

“Oh, you’re the best helper,” Regina responds. Layla beams at her. “What did you do?”

Gretchen smiles too as Regina tips her head up and kisses her forehead, then starts gently looking through the designs. Gretchen pulls out the one she designed with Layla’s help and shows it to her.

“She did this pretty much herself,” she says. “And now I kind of want to start a children’s line.”

“You should,” Regina says. “You could make little matching ones of the adult designs you do. Have, like, a mommy and me line. I’d buy that and we don’t even have kids.”

“That’s a good idea,” Gretchen hums. “I’ll think about it more later. We’ve done enough work for today, let’s go play!”

Regina chuckles as Layla runs out of the room when Gretchen sets her down, her little ponytail bouncing behind her.

“You two are cute together,” she murmurs. “You’d make a good mom.”

“So would you,” Gretchen says, wrapping her arms around her waist. Regina shakes her head and tries to move away, but Gretchen refuses to let her go. “No, look at me.” She gently cups Regina’s chin and makes her look into her eyes. “If you wanted to, you would make a wonderful mother. You’re not your dad. You’ve made so much progress, sweetheart.”

Regina flushes at the pet name and buries her face in the crook of Gretchen’s neck. “We’ll talk about it?”

“Yeah,” Gretchen agrees quietly. “Always. Whenever you want, we’ll talk about it. You know you can always talk to us?”

Regina nods. “You know too?”

“Yeah,” Gretchen murmurs. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Regina whispers, unfortunately having to pull away from one of her favorite places, since her spine is beginning to ache at being hunched over to cuddle her smaller girlfriend. “We should probably go save Karen.”

Gretchen laughs and takes her hand, leading her back out to the living room.

—-

A short while later, Regina half-watches Karen giving the twins ‘airplane rides’ around the apartment, weaving around the furniture and in and and out of rooms. She’s also half-watching her Tiktok feed for the day. Hmm.

She brings up her text thread with Cady to ask a very important question.

Cady peeks at her phone when it chimes, picking it up from the bathroom counter to see the message. She laughs when she sees what it is, and heads back to the living room where Janis is lethargically sprawled on the couch.

“Regina wants to know if she can put the babies on Tiktok,” she giggles.

“Absolutely not,” Janis grumbles.

“Oh come on, grumpy pants,” Cady coaxes, turning their show back on and dimming the lights a bit. “Some of them are cute, and Gretchen says she’s having a hard time connecting with them. She said she’d send them to me for us to check before she posts them. Please?”

Janis does kind of want to see how her daughters react to a few of the trends she’s seen, and knows she’s wary of the idea simply because she still has a hard time trusting Regina. So, begrudgingly, “Maybe.”

Cady grins and kisses her hair, and they wait for the videos to come in.

They only have to wait a few minutes before the first one comes through. Cady pauses their show again and waits for Janis to turn onto her back on top of her, then brings up the video so they can both see.

Layla and Leo sit side by side on a very nice couch, their little socked feet not even making it to the end of the cushion. Regina hands each one a little gift bag, and they both tear in to see what present they’ve gotten. Layla gasps excitedly when she pulls out a banana.

“A ‘nana!” She says happily. Leo pulls out one of her own and looks at it in confusion. “Leo, we got ‘nanas! Aunt Weggie, open p’ease?”

Leo’s eyes go wide and and she gives an excited gasp when she realizes she actually has one of her favorite fruits in her hand, and asks for hers to be opened in sign language. Regina laughs and peels both bananas. Each girl takes theirs back and munches happily on it while the video closes. Just before it cuts, they both say a muffled, “T’ank you!” around their bites.

Cady and Janis both laugh, and Cady sends back a message to explain that they usually give them their bananas pre-peeled, so that’s why Leo didn’t recognize it.

The next video comes through a few minutes later. Leo and Layla have finished their bananas and are still on the couch. Regina enters the room filming, rests her phone on the coffee table, and leaves the room.

It takes a second for them to notice, but Layla clocks the phone first. She rolls onto her tummy and slides off the couch before going to pick it up. She sees herself on the screen and pauses for a second to smile at her reflection before she goes running to find her auntie in the kitchen. The background moves wildly as Layla pokes her little tongue out in her concentration, and the rhythmic little thumps of her footsteps can be heard.

“Aunt Weggie!” She calls happily when she finds her. “You left you phone!”

“I left my phone?” Regina says in fake shock. Layla toddles over and gives it back. “Oh, thank you! You’re very responsible.”

The camera flips around to show Layla wrapped around Regina’s legs, giving a wide smile up at her just before it cuts.

“Aww,” Cady coos. “We’ve trained them well.”

“She’s so cute,” Janis chuckles, tapping the video to play it again.

The next one features Leo, sitting on Regina’s lap in the kitchen. Regina explains that Leo had asked for a drink and they’re going to see how well she can pour it herself. A small glass is put in front of the toddler, and she’s offered a bottle of almond milk.

Leo takes the bottle carefully and tips it over the glass, slowly pouring some into the cup. She has the right motions, but quickly gets carried away and fills the cup too much. It spills over onto the counter, and Regina quickly grabs the bottle to stop it. Both Leo and Regina pull the same face, wide eyes and lips pressed into a thin line as they look into the camera.

“Oh no,” Leo says. “Needa towel, p’ease.”

Someone else, most probably Gretchen, hands over some paper towels, and Leo carefully swipes it over the counter to clean up her mess.

“There we go,” she says, sounding more like ‘dairy doe’.

“Good job!” Regina congratulates as Leo ever so carefully picks up her very full cup of milk and takes a sip. Regina helps her get down off her lap, and a ‘T’ank you!’ can be faintly heard. “You’re welcome!”

“Oh goodness,” Cady laughs. “At least she cleaned up after herself. Poor Regina.”

“And she’s polite,” Janis chuckles quietly. “Her sweet little voice.”

“We’re doing a good job,” Cady says quietly. “With them.”

Janis nods in agreement and scrolls back up to the video with the bananas.

It takes a long while for the next video to come through, and Regina explains that they’d taken a break to eat dinner (alfredo pasta) and then to clean said dinner off the twins. Layla had apparently taken a special liking to the meal and managed to get it in her hair, so that took some extra time.

But a video of two clean babies comes through. Regina is sitting on the ground wrapped in a fitted sheet so just her face is visible. Karen seems to be filming this time, and encourages the girls to go get their auntie. Leo seems a little concerned, but they both run over to Regina.

When they just make it, Regina suddenly opens the sheet and snatches both inside like a venus flytrap. They both scream in surprise, but their adorable giggles are quickly heard. The video cuts, and they both run into the trap again, and again, and again.

Another one comes through, and this time Gretchen is the one in the sheet. The twins don’t stop laughing the whole time, their giggles making a precious audio for the video. Just before it cuts, Gretchen is looking exhausted, but Leo calls a delighted “‘Gain!”

So, another one comes through with Karen in the sheet. The twins’ hair is frizzy and their cheeks are pink by this point. Cady is just glad they’re getting some energy out before bedtime.

Janis laughs gently at each video, wondering how she hasn’t thought of this. Apparently her daughters are easily entertained. “I miss them.”

“I miss them too,” Cady sighs. “I’ll need to go get them soon, though, it’s getting late.” An alert suddenly comes through her phone then, letting them know a thunderstorm is approaching. “Uh oh.”

“Maybe not,” Janis chuckles. “You shouldn’t drive in that.”

“But they freak out during storms,” Cady says anxiously. “Especially Leo. But I can’t get there before it hits.”

“She’ll be fine,” Janis comforts. “Regina can handle that.”

“I hope so.”

—————

Regina grins happily as she reads the comments for the videos she’s posted so far, everyone delighting in her precious nieces. She’s reading one that seems nearly distraught at how polite they are when a text comes through from Cady.

spacecadet: Hey, I just saw that a storm is coming. Jay doesn’t want me to drive in it but both of the girls get really scared

Regina checks her weather app and sees that a small but strong storm is rapidly approaching. She peeks out the window to find that the sky is already grey with dark clouds.

reginald: Yeah, you definitely shouldn’t drive. I think we can make it, you come when it stops.

spacecadet: Are you sure?? I know they’ll be fine but you shouldn’t have to deal with both of them screaming

reginald: Oh, it’s fine, we already have. There was a little incident before naptime. And scared babies are easy, we’ll be fine.

spacecadet: Incident?

reginald: Bad word choice. Both had a tantrum, they were tired and wanted the same crayon.

spacecadet: Oh goodness, I’m sorry

reginald: Cady, they’re two, it’s fine. We dealt with it and they’re fine. Is there anything you usually do with them during storms?

spacecadet: If you say so. If we know they’re coming we usually warn them, and if it’s really bad we hide in the basement so the noise is muffled. But you can do whatever you need to

reginald: Sounds like a plan. See you whenever it passes.

spacecadet: Thanks, Regina :)

“Girls!” Regina calls gently as she clicks her phone off. Leo and Layla come barreling down the hallway to her when they hear her call, and Gretchen and Karen quickly follow. Regina crouches down to the smalls’ height to explain the situation. “There’s a thunderstorm coming, but you don’t need to be scared. We can all have a storm party!”

“A pawty?” Leo says anxiously. She instinctively reaches for Layla’s hand, nervous at the prospect of a storm. Especially without Mama or Mommy there to comfort them.

“Yeah!” Regina says excitedly. “Come on, let’s get ready.”

Gretchen and Karen seem confused, but follow along with Regina’s plan. They open the curtains on one of the floor-to-ceiling windows so they can see out, and the twins helpfully grab all the couch cushions and pillows they can carry. Regina gets blankets, and they build a little fort in front of the window, held up by a lamp.

Regina, Gretchen, and Karen head inside, and the twins sit in between them to wait.

After a few minutes, the first flash of lightning lights up the dark sky. Both twins let out a whimper of fright and scream when a crack of thunder follows.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Gretchen comforts as they both bury their faces in her chest.

“Loud,” Leo whimpers.

“I know,” Gretchen hushes. “The storm can’t hurt you, it’s just a scary noise.”

“Let’s play a game,” Regina coaxes. Both twins peek their little faces out to see her. “Come here.” Anxiously, they both crawl into her lap and look out the window. “Let’s count.”

“Count?” Layla asks anxiously, jumping and letting out a squeak of fright at the next lightning.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Regina says, coaxing them to look. “One… two… three… four… five… oh, there’s the thunder!”

“Why count?” Leo asks, poking her face out when the booms stop.

“If we can count high that means the storm is far away,” Regina explains. “It’s gonna get closer, and then it’ll move away and be done. And we’re safe in here.”

She smiles as she sees the twins take some deep breaths to calm down and cuddle closer into her. They still jump when the lightning goes by, but this time they count with her.

“One… two… free… four… fibe,” they say anxiously. This time, they giggle when the thunder hits. Layla says, “I did it!”

“Did you make it thunder?” Regina chuckles. Both girls nod. “Good job. Oh, here we go, do it again!”

They only make it to three this time.

“Get close?” Leo asks curiously, looking to her aunties.

“Uhhuh,” Regina confirms. Karen and Gretchen switch to be on either side of her and cuddle in close with everyone. “It’s getting closer and then it’ll go away.”

A few more rounds go by where they get as high as three, and then they start only making it to one or two. Luckily, they don’t seem scared anymore. They look excited to be tracking the storm and making the thunder happen.

“Oh, we can count higher now, the storm is leaving,” Regina says happily. “You’re doing so good!”

Gradually, the rain slows and the storm dissipates. Leo and Layla look curiously out the window the whole time, and make no effort to leave Regina’s lap once the sun gently peeks out from the horizon, beginning to set for the day. Strangely, Regina finds herself not wanting to let them go, either.

Gretchen and Karen gently exit their little tent to get all the twins’ things packed back up, and find their shoes and jackets once again. Gretchen is just tying on the last little shoe when they hear a knock at the door.

“Who could that be, girls?” Karen says excitedly, also trying to stop Nutmeg from barking at it too much. “Go see!”

Both twins eagerly run down the hallway to the front door, and Leo stands on her tippy toes to open it.

“Mama!” They both call happily, wrapping each of their little bodies around one of her legs.

“Hi, sweet girls!” Cady says happily, bending to pick each of them up and kiss all over their little faces. “Oh, I missed you so much! What did you do today?”

Both girls immediately launch into a story, explaining in as much detail as they can the exciting events that happened with their aunties. Cady enters and shuts the door behind her as they rattle off their favorite parts.

“Really? Did you have so much fun?” Cady asks when they finally have explained everything they wanted to. They both nod eagerly. “Good. We have to go home now, can you go say thank you?”

Both twins wiggle to be set down and run back to their aunties, giving hugs and saying thank you for a fun day. Cady follows suit too, and grins as her daughters seem to linger for just a while longer with Regina.

“Thank you so much,” Cady says gratefully. “You guys are so good with them, thank you.”

“Anytime!” Karen says happily. “Bye girls!”

Both girls wave goodbye and call a, “Bye-bye!” over their mama’s shoulder as they’re carried out of the apartment and down to go home. Cady chuckles and kisses each forehead gently as she buckles them into their car seats.

——————

“Mommy, Mommy!” Both girls call happily when Cady unlocks the front door to let them in, toddling full speed down the hall and over to Janis on the couch. Cady stays behind for a second and gives a small grin at the wide smile her wife gets upon seeing their children.

“Hi, girls!” Janis says happily, sounding like she already has a bit of energy back. It usually takes her a minimum of a few days to recover from an episode, but she’s already making good progress through this one. “I missed you.”

“Miss Mommy too,” the twins say at the same time. Janis grins contently as they both worm their way up on top of her for a snuggle.

“Aww, my sweet girls,” Janis coos. “Did you have fun with your aunties?”

Cady rolls her eyes lovingly, knowing Janis just opened a whole can of worms for herself. At least she has enough time to go get the twins’ bedtime things ready for them while they explain their whole day to their mommy.

The twins apparently gave Janis an abridged version of the story, because when Cady comes back she finds them all silent. Both twins are cuddled into Janis’ chest, one little head on each of her shoulders. Janis has a hand resting on each of their backs, holding them close to her. Her eyes are closed contently, and she looks the most at peace Cady thinks she’s ever seen from her. She’s glad to see it.

She sneakily snaps a few pictures of her perfect little family before she does unfortunately have to break up the little cuddle party. “Alright, munchkins, it’s bedtime.”

“I can get them down,” Janis says quietly, opening her eyes when Cady kisses her forehead.

“If you want, of course,” Cady agrees. “I got their jammies ready and everything.”

Janis nods and picks up both of their sleepy girls, standing carefully and carrying them upstairs. Cady flops onto their bed and listens down the hall as Janis gets them into their pajamas, brushes their teeth and hair, and reads them some bedtime stories.

The end of story time is her cue, and she hauls herself up to go to the nursery to kiss their babies goodnight. Janis is hunched over and pressed against Leo’s little face, giving her her goodnight kisses and having their little nightly chat. Cady goes to Layla first.

“Did you have a good day today?” She whispers. Layla nods. “Good! What was your favorite part?”

“Uh… doggy,” Layla responds.

“You liked playing with Nutmeg?” Cady chuckles. “I bet she liked you too. What part did you not like?”

“Fundersto’m,” Layla says.

“I know, that must’ve been scary,” Cady replies. “But you made it through the whole thing even though you were scared! You were so brave, Ladybug.” Layla beams at her, and Cady smiles back. “Are we gonna have our best day tomorrow?” Layla nods again. “Good, get some good sleep so you’re ready for it.”

Cady leans down to kiss her forehead and down her little nose.

“Goodnight, my sweet little pumpkin, have sweet dreams,” Cady whispers. “I love you so much.”

“Luh you, Mama,” Layla says quietly, followed by a yawn.

Cady and Janis switch twins then, repeating their process on the other girl before turning on the white noise machine and nightlight, and leaving them to sleep.

—————

Across town, all three Plastics flop into bed early, exhausted after a very, very long day. It’s Regina’s turn in the middle, her favorite nights. She’d never admit it, but she loves having each of her girlfriends cuddled up on either side of her all night.

“We did good,” Gretchen yawns. Her girlfriends nod in agreement. “We… we should have a chat tomorrow.”

“Stop yawning, you’re making me yawn,” Regina grumbles. Gretchen chuckles and leans in for a kiss. Regina suddenly forgets her complaints and kisses her back.

“Ahem,” Karen coughs. Regina rolls her eyes lovingly, but flips over to give Karen some affection too. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” Regina whispers, kissing both of her girlfriends and cuddling in under the duvet.

“I love you too,” Gretchen murmurs, also kissing both of them before cuddling in on Regina’s right side.

“I love you three,” Karen says, getting her kisses in and settling in on Regina’s left. They say this every night, and still always giggle at ‘I love you three.’

They drift off tangled in each other, completely exhausted but completely content.

It takes a village.

---

hope you enjoyed!!

i’m still undecided on whether to give the plastics kids, which is why i left the ending sort of intentionally vague in that regard :))) so let me know!! if you guys want i can totally do a kid fic for them, or just give them a kid and not write about it. or not give them a kid!!! up to you guys!

im hoping to have requests re-opened by next week! I'm just finishing up some last little things here and there and then they should FINALLY be reopened bc its been forever omg. anyway!

thank you all so much for reading and have a lovely day!

lots of love,

ezzy

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aurumacadicus · 4 years

Text

I know I am probably a perpetrator of this but I have decided I am tired of it so, a concept:

“You disobeyed my orders on the field, Tony!” Steve shouts. “I told you to get to safety and you decided that getting nearly blown up with a better idea!”

“Listen, I did the math,” Tony says, rolling his eyes. “And I made the call. Alright? It’s nothing personal--I just made a better choice because I had more information.”

“You agreed to follow my lead in battle, Tony! You keep saying you do the math, but don’t you think I don’t know the math myself? I made a call and you basically told me ‘fuck you!’” Steve snarls.

Tony rolls his eyes, annoyed, and snips back, “I think I was a little bit closer to the situation.”

“Do you want to get benched, Avenger?” Steve snaps.

Tony glares at him, opening his mouth. Then he stops, considering, before he turns on his heel and leaves.

Steve watches him go, gaping, and just barely manages to ask, “Tony?” before the elevators close on him.

“...Looks like he called your bluff, Steve,” Clint says, shoving his hand into a box of Cheerios and then stuffing the cereal into his mouth.

Steve turns to stare at him. “You seriously couldn’t get a bowl.”

“We’re outta milk,” Clint explains, shrugging.

“Just use water,” Bruce says.

Clint turns to look at Bruce, then pointedly shoves another handful of cereal in his mouth. “That’s weird, Bruce,” Natasha says, unsettled. “No one uses water in their cereal.”

“I do,” Bruce says, offended.

“What,” Steve begins, horrified, but then the elevator is open again and he turns, opening his mouth again. Then he closes it in confusion.

Tony had gone to Steve’s art studio, apparently. He sets up Steve’s big easel, then opens his biggest sketchbook to a blank page without even bothering to make fun of him for his other sketches. Then he turns, and uncaps a marker. “I’m gonna show you the math,” he says.

“I--okay,” Steve replies, still a little bewildered. After a few seconds, he takes a seat on the couch, feeling a lot like a schoolboy being corrected on a test for some reason.

Tony stares at him for a moment longer, then turns. He explains things as he goes, like inertia, and wind speed, and the atomic structure of concrete and rebar. A lot of it goes over Steve’s head. He’s pretty sure that if he asked for clarification, Tony would patiently explain to him, but he figures he gets the gist of it as Tony scrawls numbers and figures across the paper. He eventually has to get Bruce to come over and hold the used piece of paper so he can start on a new one, and Clint and Natasha eventually come and sit next to Steve, watching as Tony draws a diagram with triangles and a cosine? What the fuck is a cosine.

“There was roughly a seventy-four percent chance that I could get in, successfully defuse the bomb, and mitigate millions of dollars worth of property damage which could have cost people their homes and livelihoods,” Tony finally finishes, circling the “73.8%” in bold and then tapping the other end of the rough sketch of the building he’d made. “And that was more than high enough for me to decide to take the risk.” He turns to look at Steve, frowning. “Steve. I don’t just immediately hear an order and knee-jerk decide to disregard it. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m an asshole, but I wouldn’t do that with other people’s lives on the line. When I say I did the math, please understand--this math I showed you? Seconds of work for me.”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, stunned, and then, “Tony, I... I’m...”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Tony says, waving the words off. “Most people think I’m being arrogant when I say I’m a genius. It usually takes people something like this to realize it’s actually true.”

“I want to apologize anyway,” Steve says stubbornly.

Tony glares at him, offended. “No!”

Natasha peers back and forth, considering whether she wants to listen to them argue about this now, then declares, “Bruce likes to eat his cereal with water.”

“And? Sometimes he uses heavy cream, depends on whether or not he Hulked out recently and needs the calories,” Tony scoffs.

“What the fuck,” Steve blurts out, at the same time Clint, consideringly, says, “I can’t decide which one of those is worse.”

#ideas #avengers shenanigans #if you're wondering where thor is #he's off buying more milk because he saw someone had used the last of it #and he's the only responsible adult in the fucking tower

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randombtsprincessa · 4 years

Text

Backfire

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Park Jimin x Reader (2nd POV)

Words: 3.9k

Genre: Smut

Rating: Mature (18+)

Summary: There is a little misconception between you and Jimin. What do you do? You fuck your brother’s best friend in the bathroom.

Warning: Frenemy to Lovers, Jimin exists, teeny tiny jealousy on both ends, Yoongi makes an appearance, oral (female), mild dirty talk, protected sex, bathroom sex.

A/N: To my love, to my angel, to the darling serendipity, a happy birthday, Park Jimin.

The simmering, roiling heat of a flame lit deep underbelly, the constriction of your chest just because you set your eyes on something vile, the natural grimace that twisted your face and brought lines to your forehead…

All were reactions you were well familiar with; all pertaining to deep, genuine hate.

Which is ridiculous because you shouldn’t – can’t – hate something that has nothing whatsoever to do with you; or so you’d thought.

Well turns out, you can hate someone who has nothing to do with you in the simply case that it is Park Jimin. Park Jimin had nothing to do with you, absolutely nothing.

And yet his name brought fiery heat to the apples of your cheeks, flushed down to your chest.

All he was; was your dearest brother’s best friend. That’s all he was. He was just some guy your brother had known for ages, trusted explicitly, would always have his back and most likely throw a punch for. That’s it. Nothing very special for two bros, who would die for each other?

His involvement with you should end with that. You’d think so, right?

But Park Jimin was everywhere.

Park Jimin was the usual crème de la crème of the male species. He had fluffy raven hair that he had a habit of running his fingers through. Plump cheeks and lips gave his face a childish glow but his eyes…

His eyes would keep you up seven nights in a row and then some. They were a flecked deep mahogany; that radiated mischief and softened in giggles at the same time. All of that would still be okay to pass off – after all, hot men weren’t exactly a lacking commodity, it was the good hot ones that were rare – if not for the fact, that there was nothing usual about Park Jimin.

Your brother Dean, bless his heart, had never managed to grow up from the freshman boy phase that miraculously slipped past the years into graduation. You had followed suit at the same university, effectively moving in with him in his recently bought apartment as he started his interning in and out of the college odd jobs.

He also forgot to mention that aside from him and you, one other person was practically always there.

You had finished homework one day, venturing out to rummage through the kitchens for something to eat until your brother returned home with takeout for dinner when you had first seen him.

A simple black shirt and jeans and head faced you, a box of fruit loops upended over a wide open mouth. You had squeaked, ducking behind the sink. You were only wearing a pair of shorts and a huge shirt with nothing underneath and a stranger stood in your new home.

When he turned, mouth bulging from the amount of cereal in his mouth, his own eyes had widened and he’d choked, coughing out almost his entire mouthful.

“Fuck, I didn’t know there was a girl in here.” He’d spat out.

Of course, the first few moments where you’d taken the liberty to run straight to your room and get properly dressed, you’d made a few keen observations. Ok, it was only one.

The guy was smoking hot.

Dean had arrived when you came back out, painstakingly admitting to having completely forgotten about mentioning you to his friends and vice-versa. Jimin stood behind his shoulder, an easy smile on his face when you shook hands.

Now…you hadn’t been planning to have anything to do with him necessarily. He was still your brother’s friend and the small flicker of excitement you’d felt when Dean mentioned that Jimin was almost always there was mostly harmless.

So, when you heard your brother teasingly warn off Jimin from flirting with you and the retort was a short, ‘no thanks, I have enough girls lined up to keep my mind off your baby sister,’ your smile vanished, replaced by a disgusted grimace.

As lax as Dean was and as open about his relationships he was, you hadn’t thought that he’d be associating with a fuck boy.

You didn’t know when your initial disgust and disdain of Park Jimin turned into full blown hate. Perhaps it was the incessant snark, the teasing…

Perhaps it was the fact that Dean hadn’t been lying about him always being there. The times when you had a boy over, even if it wasn’t a date – he was there, on the couch, stuffed with popcorn. The times you would mention going out to a café, or an arcade with a guy, he happened to be there – spotting you all too easily and coming over to say hi.

Or maybe, it was just him being the general hot asshole. He dripped sin and no matter how hard you tried to not notice and move on from the place where you had nothing better to do but look at him, he would tease you about how he riled you up.

You couldn’t escape him.

Which made no sense…because his demeanor meant that he wasn’t a fan of yours either. You spat back retorts as fast as a gun, had compared his dick to one of the moldy carrots in your brother’s fridge, and had once physically pushed him away from a guy you had made the mistake of bringing home.

You were sure, he enjoyed it. There was something about the flare in his eyes that made you curious, wondering if maybe he was doing it on purpose…if the push and pull was something he found exciting.

You wouldn’t be surprised at all if he did.

The same held true for your place of work.

You had scoured and scored a job as a barista at the café and bakery nearest Dean’s apartment. The situation was lovely, the workers were friendly and the pay wasn’t unfair. You were happy in donning on a simply powder blue apron and doing the works behind the register every day.

Right up until Park Jimin began to show up there as well.

At first, you thought it was because Dean was the one dragging him there; having already warned you he was going to show up and scout out your new work place – just in case. You only wished he had done without Jimin hanging about, his own head swiveling about inquisitively before landing on you, sizing you up.

You couldn’t deny the flush of heat around your neck at his curious gaze and that made you angrier.

He had started to parade around in all his glory even without your brother about, smarmy smirks throw at you while he waited for you to serve him. He would blow kisses, raise an eyebrow challengingly when you threw disparaging looks at him.

And then one fateful day he took it too far.

He stood in line at the counter, you saw him first thing when you handed out change to the customers while another co-worker, Nina, handed out the orders.

You completely turned away from the counter when it was Jimin’s turn, not catching his eyes but ears working on hyperactive as he flirted heavily with the other girl.

Nina, for all her sweetness, blushed, stammered and nearly messed up his order which had you rolling your eyes in disgust. God, he wasn’t even that good. Why were girls all over themselves for him? You could at least give as well as you got.

The final thought had your head snapping up – in horror at you. Where had that come from? Since when had you wanted to be at the receiving end of Jimin’s flirtations? Granted, you always were the one he’d pick on, zero in on, whenever he was around but he did to annoy you.

You looked over your shoulder, finally meeting Jimin’s eyes, which were already on you. Nina had still not managed to get his drink done right, adding a bit too much sugar, you’d noticed than Jimin took but he only grinned – waving a hand to show it was all fine as he dropped a couple bills on the counter.

And then he threw you a cheeky, exaggerate wink, before turning on his heel and retreating back to his customary table.

That’s it.

You snarled to yourself mentally, tapping on Nina’s shoulder a little harder than necessary.

“I’ll do the customers now, you can handle the register.”

If there was anything off about your voice or your face, Nina didn’t mention it. She was probably way too into thinking about Jimin to be very observant anyway. She obediently moved to the other side of the counter, letting you stand to the front, now facing the rest of the line.

You couldn’t feel Jimin’s usual gaze on you, for the most part whenever you glanced at him; he was busy staring intently at his phone.

So, you swiftly handled and dispensed the customers, until one guy walked into your line of sight, hands stuffed into the pockets of his coat and a nervous look in his eyes.

“Hi,” He said first thing.

You put your server smile on. “Good morning, sir. Welcome and what may I get you today?”

“Just a simple black coffee, for Min Yoongi,” The man said. You thought you caught him burying his hands further into his pockets, your smile flickering uncertainly.

“Just a simple black…? No additions?” You clarified, pen hovering over the order slip.

“Yeah no, it’s just it’s embarrassing…I’ve never had coffee in a café before, I always have my homemade blend. But my coffee maker broke so…”

None of the above information was necessary, but you could feel a small smile twitching at the edges of your lips. He was cute, shy and blushing.

“A simple black,” You scribbled the order, passing it to the kitchens, “Perhaps, you should have that machine looked at,” You laughed.

The answering laugh was slow but bubbling. “Well, I mean I could wait a few days – depending on the coffee here.” He said.

“We do have good coffee.” You considered, lowering your voice as you motioned for him to move to the checkout line. A simple black didn’t take much long to make and the line was thankfully empty for now. The paper cup stood steaming on the counter, the name Min Yoongi scrawled over in the chef’s large writing. You grabbed it quickly, putting it in a carrier and placing it in front of him.

The man carefully lifted the cup up, taking a sip, before shrugging. “It’s not half bad. Maybe, I can come by if the machine stays broken.” He lifted hopeful eyes to you.

You couldn’t help but flutter slightly. “I’d keep our simple black lane open.” You teased back and he nodded, still smiling before pulling out the bills for the coffee. He slipped in another bill to your hand.

“A tip, don’t be too eager to spend it.” He flushed heavily, turning quickly on his heel to walk out, the bell tinkling at his exit.

You glanced at the one note curiously. It wasn’t too big of an amount but what mattered was the little red numbers at the base – a phone number. You grinned to yourself. He must have written his number out when you were packing his coffee. You slipped the numbered bill into your pocket, getting back to work to the line when you saw him.

Jimin’s eyebrows were drawn together, thick lips pursed tightly as he drummed his fingers on the counter. His eyes snapped to you immediately when you walked to him.

“Want something else?” You asked lightly, trying not to ruin the small lift Min Yoongi’s number had given you.

“Yes, I would actually, if it’s fine with you.”

You glanced up, eyebrows rising at the curt tone.

“Your little friend over there couldn’t get my order straight. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d like a decent drink.”

“Park, you were the one flirting with Nina.” You scowled at him.

His jaw clenched. “Does that mean I have to suffer through a cup of torture?”

You determinedly looked down, writing down the order Jimin had wanted before, passing it to the kitchens to be processed. Jimin didn’t wait for you to ask him anything else, moving to the checkout line before you could say anything. You silently passed him his drink when it came and he took one sip, before wordlessly exiting the shop, your eyes trailing after him.

You didn’t wait for the official lunch break. You knew he’d be gone by then and you didn’t want to talk to him about his stupid behavior in front of your brother. Grabbing a simple cappuccino to go, you tugged on your coat, exiting the shop, tracing his steps where you knew he would’ve gone – Dean’s apartment.

You didn’t have to go very far. He had stopped near a lamp post, leaning against his car, phone back out as he scrolled roughly on it.

“Hey, Park Jimin,” You arrived in a huff, fingers snapping under his nose that had him jumping – looking at you with a heavy glare in his eyes.

“Y/N, what the fuck,” He backed up into his car door.

“I should be asking you that question. What the fuck is your problem?”

The glare in Jimin’s eyes subsided, replaced with a cold indifference. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, that you’re usually a jackass to me but today you just crossed a few more lines. Why would you flirt with Nina if you didn’t like the coffee she made? And why would you take it out on me?”

“Whoa, ok, I’m not a jackass to you, ok? I was just teasing you with that girl; I didn’t think she’d be so bad at a simple coffee.”

You crossed your arms across your chest. “Doesn’t explain why you were being all stuck up and awful, simply because I served another customer before you?”

Jimin paused, eyes trailing over you. “He gave you his number, didn’t he? I know guys like him; they act all shy to get girls like you falling over them. You’re my best friend’s sister, Y/N; I’m just looking out for you.”

“That is such…” You tried to think of a bad enough word, but looking at Jimin now, the smug arch of his eyebrow, the tilt to his head – you knew he was vying for a fight, anything to get out of the fact that you had called him out on his behavior.

So you did the exact opposite.

“You acted like you were jealous, Park.” You prodded, watching his eyes widen in vindictive pleasure.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“No, no, that’s what this all is about, isn’t it? All the interruptions on my dates, all the intimidating the boys I hung about with…you were just jealous.”

Jimin was backing up now, his hand clenching his door handle. “Y/N, I’m warning you.”

“Oh please, how ridiculous could you get?” You snapped and so did he. His hand shot out; he grabbed onto the back of your coat, yanking you to him, chest pressing tight to his.

Unfortunately, your arm caught between your bodies, the paper cup crumpling from the pressure and splashing all over him. Thankfully, your coat took most of the brunt while his shirt soaked through with what was probably sizzling coffee.

“Son of a bitch,” Jimin jerked away from you, hands pulling away the fabric of his shirt from his skin.

“Oh god,” You dropped the cup in the trashcan under the light post. “Are you burnt?”

“No – no, but I need to get home. Fucking now,” Jimin growled, unlocking the car to roughly pull the door open. “Get in.” He called curtly and for once you obeyed, circling the car as he revved the engine, driving to your apartment.

The car ride was silent, except for the soft curses Jimin let out, squirming in the seat as the wet fabric cooled against his body.

Once home, you led Jimin straight to the washer, letting him unbutton the shirt so you could stash it and your coat in to wash them. Of course, watching nimble fingers work to pull away a sticky cloth from Jimin’s chiseled torso did distract you for a bit but then he opened his mouth.

“You’re paying for the shirt, you know. It was expensive.” He grumbled, leaning against the bathroom door.

You rolled your eyes immediately. “It’s just a shirt, Jimin, and machine washable, it’ll come out fine.”

“Sure, sure,” Jimin smirked. “Isn’t this awfully domestic of you, washing my clothes?”

You didn’t even deign to stand up to face him. “Fuck yourself Park,” You said calmly.

“Actually,” there was a heavy pause. “I think I’ll just fuck you.”

The next thing you felt was a hand at your chin, turning you sideways where Jimin placed his lips on yours fully.

The squeak you let out was not the sexiest sound you could’ve made in that moment. But then, you hadn’t exactly expected Park Jimin to be kissing you in any way possible. His eyes were clamped shut while yours were blown wide open, watching his brow furrow with effort as he delved deeper into you.

Your hands had grabbed onto the sides of his waist, the curve smooth and cold under your slick palm, if not a little sticky too.

When he pulled away, perhaps to gauge your reaction, your mouth fell open about as wide as your eyes, watching him stunned.

“Yeah,” He huffed, “not exactly the most self controlled thing I’ve done.”

“But…what about all that shit about Dean and watching over me?”

“Are you kidding? He’d be thrilled if you and I got together – but he’d still knock my blinkers up and down the street for not telling him first. Which was what I was texting him about,” He pulled out his phone from his back pocket, showing you a text conversation between him and your brother.

You didn’t even glance at the screen.

“So, all that time when you were being a jerk, you could’ve just come up and kissed me?”

“Well, not really but,”

“Fuck, stop talking.” You groaned, dropping your head in your hand before growling. “Take it all off.” You dug your hand into his waist band, to drive your point home before reaching down for the hem of your own clothes, lifting and tugging it over your head.

“Oh, okay,” Jimin took a second to move, removing everything, your own jeans and underwear joining his on the bathroom floor before the both of you migrated to the wall next to the bathtub, kissing with fervor.

“You’re an idiot, just so we’re on the same page.” You managed to spill when Jimin’s lips – and better, his tongue and teeth – moved to your neck, lining the slope of your throat with harsh pink suckles.

“Babe, we both need to shut up if we’re going to finish this before Dean gets home.” Jimin looked up with a heavy smirk as he ran his tongue over your bottom lip, teeth digging in to part the seam of your mouth. You groaned, feeling him let go as he trailed his fingers down to your exposed breasts, thick fingers digging into the supple flesh, smacking one to watch it jiggle.

“Goddamn, if only I’d had the guts to just do this before when I saw you prance about the house in nothing but that huge shirt and panties.”

“Ironic, I’ve wanted you for roughly the same amount of time.” Your arms wound around his neck as he took a nipple in his mouth, sucking on it hard and rough, letting it go just as abruptly.

Your head thudded back, Jimin dropping to his knees easily. “I’ve wanted to eat this pussy for so long. All those times I’ve come over to see you on your stomach on the couch, or with some dude who probably doesn’t even know how do it -,”

“I thought we were going to shut up.”

Jimin threw you a dirty grin. “Make me.”

You smirked right back – if Jimin thought you were going to take the bait, he didn’t know you too well. Instead, you tangled five fingers in his sleek hair, yanking him closer to your core. “I will,”

His hands travelled up the expanse of your thighs, goose bumps soothed by his nails as his thumbs hooked into the apex of your legs. Jimin hummed against the burning skin, tongue placing kitten licks over the exposed clit.

If it wasn’t the sensation that had you leaning against the wall for balance when Jimin threw a knee over his shoulder, it was the fact that he never removed his eyes from your face.

His tongue traced over your glistening folds, dipping into your hole then fluttering back to your clit to suck it into his mouth, all the while his eyes burned into yours, as if he was devouring more than just your heat, your very essence.

You reached for his shoulders. “Come here,” You kissed him almost savagely, your taste on his lips as you plunged your tongue into his mouth. Fumbling with the free hand, you stroked his length, hands slickening in his arousal.

Finally when he pulled away, he went straight to the bathroom cabinet. “Your brother keeps his condoms here.” He explained.

“I don’t even wanna know why you know that.” You crinkled your nose, ignoring his chuckle as he rolled the sheath onto his shaft. Coming back to you, he kissed the wrinkle off your nose.

He grabbed your thigh, letting it rest over his elbows as he stretched one hand along the wall, holding it tightly in his. Tilting his hips at an angle, he fed his cock into you, a deep guttural groan escaping him as your velvet walls engulfed him tightly.

“I’d take a million ass beatings for a few minutes of this.” He grunted, his first thrusts slow and shallow, stretching you out before he was hefting his arm higher, parting your legs further.

The first angled deep thrust had you gasping, his lips sneaking over yours, subtly muffling the moans and whimpers by swallowing them.

Jimin maintained a steady pace, slow but deep, pushing himself to your limits, mouth wet over any inch of you he could reach, before he was pulling out, turning you to bend over the bathtub. Your fingers wrapped around its lip, tight and bloodless when he delved further back into you.

This time, however, there was nothing slow about him.

He entered you ruthlessly, fast, going even deeper if possible, his teeth clenched when you felt him lean over your, brushing away hair from your ears.

“Do you feel me, Y/N? You’ve been missing out on this.” He laughed, breathless when he reared back and then started plunging into you again, battering his pelvis against your ass.

The sounds of your broken whines accompanied the sharp slaps of your skin meeting his. His hands gripped at your neck, pushing your further down until your were completely bent in half, his head rubbing against your spot and then you were exploding – almost pulling away from him.

“Not done yet, babe,” You felt him enter you again, somewhere through the haze of your bliss, your orgasm seemingly endless as his ferocious speed kept you on the sweet edge of never quite finishing.

When he finally erupted, arms wrapped tight around your chest and waist, standing as he worded curses against your neck, you came once more, arching into the wall, before he rested the both of your exhausted bodies against it.

“We’ll have to talk to Dean if you wanna do this again.” You mumbled.

“Yeah,” He sighed. “But we still have some time.”

He glanced at you sheepishly.

“Round two?”

#btsbookclub #ficswithluv #smutcentralnet #jimin smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin #park jimin #bts jimin #bts #jimin x reader

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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 3 years

Text

Little Robin and Momma Bird

In honor of First Day of Spring 2021 which for comic fans is the birth date of Richard John-Grayson Wayne, Member of the Flying Graysons, Bruce Wayne’s Adopted Son, Barbara Gordon’s classmate, Wally West and Roy Harper’s best friend, Princess Koriand’r’s true love, the first Robin, The Boy Wonder, Leader and founding member of the Teen Titans, Nightwing, Protector of the City of Bludhaven, Renegade, Ex Apprentice of Slade Wilson, Agent 37, Big Brother to Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, and Damian Wayne, in varying times and places Father of Mar’i ‘Nightstar’ and Jacob ‘Jake’ Grayson and above all else and beyond all those titles, son of John Grayson and Mary Elizabeth Lloyd Grayson; here’s what I hope is something short and sweet.

Now with long intro out of the way, the following is dedicated to @mothnem @lightdusk96 @hood-ex @thattimdrakeguy @tarisilmarwen @fireflyxrebel-writes @nightglider124 @nyxqueen97 @wisegirlandseaweedbrainforever @arabian-batboy @meara-eldestofthemall @robxstar @bluerene and so many others for being my friends in light of this occasion. Please like, comment and especially reblog for any corrections and constructive criticisms. It’ll be very appreciated.

Please Enjoy....

The sun gleaming and bright rays shone through the small trailer window, lighting the small bedroom with many bright colors of its own decorated throughout. The beige carpet, still an ever bit of simple yet practical use of being the floor, was littered with small shapes of varying sizes, almost all being made of plastic. In particular, these spread out toys were action figures, representing the recent phenomena of spandex clad and awe inspiring individuals that are the ‘Superman’ from Metropolis and the rest being merely the few robotic and unnatural opponents he faces in protecting the oppressed and those in need. The resident of this small bedroom was for all accounts a fan of Superman, something not too unprecedented given the caped champion’s crusades in correcting the wrongs and dangers Metropolis and the larger world face the best he can ever since his first day to the public.

And given these are action figures of Superman, it shall be of no surprise said resident was indeed very young; a small acrobat of the famous Haly’s Circus currently asleep and softly snoring away in this room’s bed, blankets draped and covering almost every part of him, even his face. It’s his 7th birthday as of today, this wonderful first day of Spring. Now if only something or someone can get him awake to enjoy such a day. That’s where a certain Mrs. Mary Grayson enters our picture.

As she gently pries open her son’s bedroom door as to not awaken him, clad only in a grey t-shirt and black pants as used for pajamas last night, Mary carefully trudges across the beige carpet towards the bed being occupied by said son. Sure, both her and him have slept in until nearly 9:30 am as of now since their family group, the Flying Graysons, have a day off from practice for today, but frankly had Dick remembered that today’s his birthday from earlier, he would been by now sneaking into his parents’ neighboring room, awaking them both his father John and her up about said day, probably the best he can think of for a gentle reminder. But due to recent influx of performances across the West Coast, Dick lost count so now it was Mary’s turn to gently remind him and in the best way she knows how.

As Mary’s bare feet carefully skirt around the action figures spread across the floor, even picking some up along the way (maybe reminding Dick to next time pick up his toys before bed will come in later tonight), she eventually reaches her son’s twin sized bed and the red, green and yellow pattern blanket that draped over the little guy overnight. In her right hand was a blue fine point marker pen with washable ink while her left gently leans to one end of the blanket where a small tuff of black hair sticks out. Gently caressing her left hand the black mass, Mary can hear a content giggle coming from under the blanket, no doubt her son feeling the familiar, loving motion John and her regularly do as parents can. On normal moments this happens, Dick would playfully push the hand ruffling his black hair away. This time, he just simply lightly giggles in his sleep. Mary was sort of banking the hair ruffling being enough to awaken her son to this bright and beautiful first day of Spring. As soon as her hand though stops with the affectionate ruffling and once more snores are heard coming from Dick, her lips turn into a soft yet mischievous smile; it was time for Plan B. Sure Enough, when looking over to the other end of the blanket and seeing her son’s own two feet, so far socked but with her there not for too long. That marker in her hand has its cap screw off.

On some occasions when she was basically passed out from a long night on the trapeze, Mary wold wake to find the soles of her feet with scribbles and doodles all across, most of them featuring the Flying Graysons logo prominently. She almost immediately knew the culprit behind such drawing but often times just leaves it be and even walks on her two feet with drawing and all since the marker ink easily comes off so it was overall no big deal. Besides, her son was just having some harmless fun so why would she dare try ruining that; sure she was strict on some parts of his behavior but this ain’t one of the them. Now though, as she lightly tugs the two socks off her sleeping son as to not awake him, revealing two velvet soles and the ten toes and with her marker in hand, it was time for payback if you may.

Starting with lightly drawing smiley faces on his big toes, Dick’s reaction was almost immediate as a slightly louder giggle comes from the blankets and his toes clench. Mary briefly backs off the marker until the toes relaxing and using her free hand, she lightly grabs unto the big ones, leaving his feet still. With that, she can proceed with the rest as sure enough, various other faces across his other toes are drawn along with flowers and even an elephant on the arch of his right foot. As for that last one, the giggling had reached its loudest and looking upward, Mary couldn’t help but smile at the results. Plan B was a success, Dick was awake and laughing his head off due to the scribbling.

“Momma!” he yells between hearty giggles, “That tickles!”

Mary grins a bit, “Oh really?”

She continues with that elephant on Dick’s right foot, now holding him still with arm entrapping his ankles tightly, making sure he can’t pull his feet back from that blue marker as it continued its path. Though Mary notes that even then, Dick wouldn’t want to. He had not once told her to stop, indicating that he was enjoying this instead. Frankly, after a long time doing this to her, she couldn’t blame him. All Dick does on his part is lay his head on the pillows, the blankets off of him, allowing Mary to see him clad in a similar style of PJs to hers only with the coloring being a blue t shirt and grey sweat pants instead. To the left of him was his precious stuffed elephant Peanut; ever since being first given that on his 4th birthday, he keeps it close to him whenever going to bed. All this time afterwards, Mary still hasn’t been able in getting her son a second stuffed toy like Peanut much to her disappointment but hey that’s a thought for another time, she has one more spot to draw before she can move on for the rest of the day, the arch on Dick’s left foot.

At first, Mary thought of drawing the Flying Graysons logo for the finishing touch but instead opts for a more casually yet fitting wording. With that in mind, her blue marker makes contact with the velvet of her son’s arch and starts its ink dripped path. By now, the 7 year old was still in full hysterics over his Momma’s drawings but he will admit, at least it was better waking up from his trapeze swinging dreams like this rather than the sun’s rays shining on him as it usually happens. Finally though, he feels the marker stop and opening his ocean blue eyes, sees his mother put the cap back on. Putting the marker away in her pocket, Mary places a soft kiss on her son’s forehead while giving him another hair ruffle. This time, now fully awake, Dick gently pushes her hand away.

His blue eyes meet his mother’s own blue eyes and a wide smile stretches on his face.

“Thanks Momma” he chirps happily in Romani Chib.

Another motherly kiss, this time his cheek, “You’re welcome, Just wanted to make sure you didn’t forget about your special day today, My Little Robin”

As Mary stands and makes her way back to the door, Dick stretches his arms, letting out a yawn from his mouth doing so.

“Breakfast will be ready in 5 minutes” Mary states with a warm smile on her face.

“Cereal, Momma?”

“Any type you like that we have of course”

“I’ll be there soon” Dick says, a wide grin on his face.

Mary has a humming giggle of her own before making her own to the kitchen to no doubt prepare her son and her’s bowls for the day. Though of course, they were just getting started.

Dick swings his feet to step off his bed and begin trudging to his breakfast, he briefly wonders on what his mother drew on him before putting the marker away. As such, flexing his leg to where he can see the soles and toes of his two feet, Dick smiles of all nice stuff Momma left. Indeed, there were flowers on the balls of his arches, goofy faces on each of his ten toes, what looks like a circus ball on his right heel, a trapeze bar on his left heel, a short yet cute elephant on right foot’s arch and at least the words on his left arch.

‘Happy 7th B-Day Little Robin, Love Momma’

Now that was love from a mother alright. Dick certainly will never forget this. Now to get the table without stepping on his toys on the floor.

#dick grayson #mary grayson #first day of spring #fanfic #my posts #family fluff

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dewykth · 4 years

Text

SWEET SEPTEMBER.

a @periminkle and @dewykth collaboration.

synopsis. for many, september symbolizes new beginnings. but for namjoon, this month never fails to send him back into the past. though this time, something seems different.

pairing. kim namjoon | female reader contains. fluff, angst, slice of life au, ballet instructor!reader, single dad!nj word count. 7.5k+ warnings. death mentions, mature audience

dae’s note. surprise !!! this fic is dedicated to my favourite virgo karla @guklvr !! happy birthday bae i hope you enjoy this lil thing me n vira whipped up for u!! (i stress wrote a lot of this ha.) also sry for lying & keeping you up but hopefully this makes u forgive me. but i hope ur day goes amazing ILYSM DUDE !!! <333 and a huge thank you to vira for hopping on board for this idea bc i cld not have done this without her !!! pls give her all the love !!!

vira’s note. KARLAAAA!!! i always gotta scream ur name it’s mandatory to start with a good scream ykno? bUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY GIRL 🥳 i already told u this too many times today but ILYSM !! like that full day without saying a single word to u felt so weird and i kept going into our chat and rereading our mssgs and wishing I was talking to u??? which is weird to admit?? but that literally how much i missed u idk how but im addicted to u so if you leave me I will literally die :))) aNYWAY have the bestestestest day ever and i hope u love the fic bc I ignored all my uni work to finish this !!! (also i feel reallyreallyreally bad about last night sO IM SORRY AGAIN BUT I HOPE THIS IS WORTH IT) 💖

Despite the papers carelessly stuffed into his leather briefcase, the dark coffee stain on his black slacks, and his unkempt locks resembling that of a bird’s nest, Namjoon’s become accustomed to the hectic nature of his mornings.

The kitchen table is practically buried under stacks of files, yet he brushes them aside to allow one corner of the glass surface to peek through. He plops the toddler in his arms onto a high chair before racing to the counter and sloppily pouring some honey nut cheerios into a small bowl, handing it off to his daughter.

“Daddy?” her voice squeaks, a patient smile stretching across her lips. Her brown strands are tied up into pigtails at the crown of her head with pink ribbons that flutter with the movement of her tiny head.

“Yes, angel?” He scurries around to their bedroom, peeling the stained fabric off his body and threading one leg through another pair of slacks fresh from the laundry.

With Namjoon’s focus pinned on checking off the mental to-do list in his head, he misses the gentle, reassuring smile that stretches across her rosy lips. The adoration for her father is clear in her gaze. “You forgot to pour the milk.”

At the reminder, he squawks and hops back to the kitchen on one foot as he maneuvers his other leg through the pant hole. Swinging the fridge door open, he grabs the carton and sloppily pours the milk into her bowl—white droplets leaping out with their newfound freedom and forming perfect domes on the glass tabletop.

Cleaning the mess falls to the bottom of his priorities at the moment, and so he speeds off to the bathroom to ensure that his appearance is presentable for work while Dasom reaches over to pluck a tissue from the box, swiping the milky beads away before diving into her breakfast. She shoves as many cheerios into her small mouth as she can, rushing because she refuses to finish her meal in the car with their wild driver behind the wheel.

Despite her mere four years of age, she knows from experience that a bowl of cereal and a shaky vehicle is a recipe for disaster.

Namjoon races over to his briefcase with most of his hair sleeked back, only the locks of his bangs hanging out to frame his forehead. As he slips his dark blazer on to complete his form-fitting suit, Dasom scoops the last few brown rings into her mouth and slurps the remainder of the liquid.

“Did you finish your milk?” he questions while cramming the edges of the loose leaves that peek past the seam of his briefcase, hurriedly zipping it up and turning to face her.

Dasom flips the edge of the bowl up to display its empty contents, gulping the last of her breakfast down her throat. As per routine, she scans her father for any inconsistencies in his attire, landing on his odd fitting bottoms.

“Daddy, your pants are on backwards.”

His eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets, glancing down to affirm that the pockets at his sides are no longer at the front of his hips. Hastily, he shimmies out of his slacks once more and twists the fabric around to the proper orientation.

Dasom hops off her chair, her bowl and wet kleenex in hand as she waddles over to the sink and waits for him to deposit the dirty dish into the sink and the sullied tissue into the trash. Although her short arms couldn’t reach over the countertop just yet, she’ll diligently drink every last drop of her milk in hopes of growing tall enough to take some of the load off of her father’s back.

He hoists Dasom up at the sight of the red car pulling up to the driveway, squeezing into the back seat. Namjoon doesn’t have to tell the driver to book it, as the calm man in front has learned to keep his foot pressed on the pedal. The car weaves through the morning traffic with concerning speed, snaking through the other vehicles littering the road as if they were no more than stationary pylons, simply there for practice.

Dasom remains on her father’s lap with his arms looped protectively around the seatbelt over her torso. She sinks into his embrace, fiddling around with his long, slender fingers as she watches the blurs of colour speeding past the window.

“Did you put your ballet shoes into your backpack, angel?” Namjoon loosens his grip on her, unhooking one hand to rummage through his own briefcase in order to confirm that he had indeed slid his laptop within the chaos inside. To keep her entertained, he playfully extends his digits out of her reach.

“Of course!” she chirps, a wide grin revealing the gaps between her teeth. The pads of her fingertips brush against his palm and tickle the sensitive skin there when she realizes that her arms lack the length required to latch onto his hand. “I can’t wait for class, we’ve got a new teacher coming in today!”

Humming absentmindedly, he sighs in relief at the sight of the silver device and packs the crumpled papers back in. “What happened to Ms. Kim?”

“She’s teaching the older class now.” The pout on her lips can be heard within the muffled lilt of her voice when she continues, “I asked her to stay until my birthday next week b-but she didn’t.”

Namjoon’s breath hitches at the reminder, but attempts to compose himself for his daughter’s sake. “It’s out of her control, angel, plus she’ll probably swing by anyway.”

His mind starts to fog up with the emotions he thought he buried last year–they swarm his every thought and nibble away at his sanity. He knows better than to believe that they would ever disappear. September will always be an insurmountable month for him.

“I might be a bit late to pick you up later, just sit tight and wait for Daddy, okay?”

She eagerly nods in response, noticing the dull red bricks of her school coming into view. “Okay, bye Daddy!”

Namjoon unlocks the seatbelt, wistfully watching his toddler bounce out of his arms and onto the asphalt below. No matter how many times he drops her off, it’s always difficult to be separated from her bright smile, but he reminds himself that it’s all for her; it makes things a little easier to bear.

“Have a good day at school.” He reciprocates her frantic waving through the window, craning his neck to watch her adorable form become smaller and smaller with the increased distance. Her full cheeks and crinkled eyes are engraved into the back of his mind.

Before long, Namjoon finds himself rushing into his office after an earful from his surly boss about everything from the late hour to the long list of meetings scheduled to all the work he’s got piled up. With his lips pursed and his head bowed, he somehow manages to make it past another lively morning.

Namjoon has a habit of overthinking. He figures it’s normal when you have a stressful job and a four year old full of energy to balance all by yourself. Not that overthinking about his daughter does him any good, because that is far from the reality. If anything, it just makes him, what you’d call, a bit... overprotective (over worrisome if you asked Jin). But it’s something he can’t really help. Even when she had just entered his life, so small and so blissfully unaware of the awful and evil things in the world, all he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and shield her from it all as long as he could.

Though he’s very aware of the fact that it won’t be much longer, that won’t stop him from going over every single little thing that could go wrong in the meantime.

So, of course, when Namjoon’s asshole of a boss makes him stay two hours over his shift, all Namjoon can think about is Dasom. Is she okay? Has she eaten anything? Did she drink enough water today? She’s always dehydrated after her classes too. He usually calls Ms. Kim to check up on her, but his calls went straight to voicemail, which definitely wasn’t helping his hectic mind. Perhaps something had happened to her?

Oh god, maybe someone broke in and had injured Dasom?

The doors are thrown open, the sound of the doorknob hitting the wall reverberating through the room. The receptionist wearing her usual polka-dot dress jumps in her seat, eyes lifting from the intense scene on her phone to the entrance of the building. An unsure smile stretches across her ruby red lips at the familiar figure, though a bit disheveled and breathless. But before the customary ‘hello’ can even form on her tongue, the figure is rushing past her, leaving only a gust of air in his wake. The papers on her desk fall to the ground, and she sighs.

Namjoon is prepared to fight the (fictional) person who thinks breaking into a toddler ballet class is a good idea, but the scene in front of him once he pushes past the doors of the studio is one he is wholly unprepared for.

He sees Dasom first, and the relief that fills his body is indescribable. It’s far from the usual sight he’s greeted with when he picks her up late. She’s not sitting on one of the chairs in the far corner of the room. His heart doesn’t feel heavy, which comes with seeing his daughter so glum. This time it’s her laughter that greets him, not one provoked by him but by the figure standing in the middle of the room with her.

Dasom doesn’t seem to be aware of the presence of her dad yet, but the figure twirling her around turns, and her eyes land on Namjoon.

The reaction is immediate. The carefree smile that had been on your face slips off, a look of embarrassment and surprise overcoming your features. Namjoon only catches a glimpse, and somehow finds himself wishing that won’t be the last time he sees it. You let go of Dasom’s hand, quickly making your way to the stereo on the other side of the room. And that’s when-

“Daddy!”

Dasom wastes no time running into her father’s open arms, and Namjoon suddenly can’t remember why he was so worried in the first place. “Hi, angel.” he says, just loud enough for her to hear. She pulls back. “I’m so sorry for getting here so late. I promise i won’t do it again.”

But of course, Dasom holds nothing but forgiveness in her heart for her hard-working father. She does love teasing him, though. “Don't say sorry to me, say sorry to her.” she giggles, pointing behind her and Namjoon furrows his brow until he remembers they’re not the only ones in the room.

His eyes immediately move to where you stand awkwardly near the stereo, eyes moving around the room as if you hadn’t been watching the whole exchange. Namjoon sighs, realizing he definitely can’t avoid talking to you now. He stands straight, holding onto Dasom’s hand as he makes his way over to you. You only seem to grow more nervous as he nears, and Namjoon distantly recalls Jin telling him he came off as intimidating to most people. Something about his ‘beefy’ arms, in his own words. (“And that stupid and unfairly attractive face!”) He goes for a smile because it's not like he can control his physique.

“Hi, I’m so sorry about…”

Namjoon stops.

Maybe it was the overwhelming distress before, or the really shitty lighting of the studio, but he hadn’t realized how pretty you were before. But now he’s standing right in front of you and he can’t seem to form a coherent thought. Pretty can’t be the right word. He realizes how creepy he probably looks, running in here like a madman and then downright staring at the (very beautiful) woman who looked after his daughter? Not cool, man.

You clear your throat, before extending a hand to him. “Hi, I’m ____, the new ballet instructor.”

Your voice sounds just like honey.

Namjoon stares at your hand dumbly, before the sound of Dasom snickering (very discreetly) behind him snaps him out of it. But instead of introducing himself, or apologizing, or just taking your fucking hand, he says-

“What happened to Ms. Kim?”

He mentally face-palms.

Not. Cool. Man.

Your face falls, and Namjoon has never wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole more than he does now. “Uh, she’s instructing the teen class now.” you chuckle awkwardly, dropping your hand.

“Oh-”

“Daaaad,” Dasom's voice sounds annoyed, and perhaps it’s a bit silly of Namjoon to feel like he’s being scolded, but that is exactly how he feels right now. “I told you this. In the morning. Remember?”

He doesn’t. “Ah, right of course,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck. It wasn’t like he meant to forget, he had just been too busy thinking about the other things every September would bring. “Sorry, I’m Kim Namjoon. Dasom’s dad.”

This time he offers his hand, and he thanks the skies above that you don’t seem to hate him because you fit your hand against his. Warm, like honey. How long had it been since he last made a fool of himself in front of a pretty girl?

Too long.

“I’m terribly sorry for arriving so late it’s just that my boss, who’s a huge-” Namjoon glances at Dasom, who is now in her own world, singing some song she learned in school, “jerk, decided to assign these reports last minute and the printer would just not work and then traffic hour-”

Your hand comes up to cover your mouth, but Namjoon can see the amusement bubbling in your eyes. He flushes a deep red, eyes falling to the floor, realizing he started ranting.

“It’s okay. Really.”

When he looks back up, there’s a smile on your face. Not like the one before, this one was more reserved, but genuine, reassuring. And just like that, he’s sure you don’t hate him.

Namjoon’s not sure he likes this feeling though.

“Straighten your arms out, girls!” you belt over the classical music that floods the studio’s walls, scanning your army of toddlers in tutus whose arms immediately tense at your command. Making your way through the row, you poke and prod everywhere from their shoulders to their ankles. “Arch your back more, Somin.”

Their muscles violently tremble in response to the strenuous routine you’ve introduced, facial features scrunched in concentration and a resolute will to uphold their positions despite the hyperextension of their limbs. A mix of pity and pride swells in your chest at their effort. “Keep your chins up, the annual recital is only a couple of days away.”

Cheers erupt throughout the small room, disrupting the focus and spoiling their perfect form, yet you refuse to quiet excitement because of the renewed vigour buzzing throughout the room. The next hour depletes all of their built-up energy with demi-piles, pirouettes and sautés.

A glance at the analog clock in the corner informs you of the five minutes remaining before the end of class, so you pause the speakers and instruct the girls to stretch themselves out as they wait for their guardians to trickle in. They collectively sigh in relief before dropping to the floor like flies.

You snort at their dramatics with an amused smile playing at your lips. “I said to stretch, not to lay down and nap.”

“Can’t we nap and stretch at the same time?”

Strolling over to the source of the voice, you cluck your tongue at her limp form sprawled across the wooden floor and cross your arms, struggling to keep your giggles from breaking your angered facade. “And how do you suppose we do that, little Miss Dasom?”

She flashes her toothless grin up at you. “Like this!” With one leg bent over the other and her hands looping around to hold her twisted limbs to her torso, she shuts her eyes and exaggerates her snores.

At this point, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your snickers, and the rest of the class joins in your laughter. You pick up on Dasom’s tinkling giggles between each of her heavy breaths. The lighthearted jokes continue as kids are signed out with bright grins on each of their faces.

You wait for the rest of the toddlers to file out one by one, waving goodbye and checking them off your list until, as usual, Dasom is the only toddler left. Her tiny feet still clad in her faded ballet shoes waddle up to you, tugging on your blouse.

“Your pirouette was a bit wobbly today, do you want to go over—”

“‘M tired,” she interrupts, slouching her shoulders with an adorable frown marring her lips. Her exhaustion is justified, since the routine is rather exhausting, and with their recital right around the corner, you worked them to the bone today.

The odd timing of the switch between you and Ms. Kim left you with a little under a week to tweak and perfect their current choreography. A sloppy routine is not the way you want to present your skills to their parents for the first time, thus you were stricter with the kids than normal.

Your sympathy wins out, and so you gather Dasom’s lithe figure into your arms as you head to the closest wall. With your back supported, you spread out your legs and place her in your lap.

“My birthday is this Thursday.”

“Mhm,” you hum, bobbing your head to signal for her to continue her train of thought.

Her back faces you, but when her head tips down to stare at her hands, you know she’s contemplating her words carefully. Rather than encouraging her to speak freely, you wait for her to feel comfortable enough to reveal her thoughts; and surely enough, her shell cracks open just enough for you to peep through. “Do you wanna come?”

“I would be honoured.” A giddy smile splits across your lips. “Is Daddy picking you up again today?”

She flips around in your hold, wrapping her arms around your waist and snuggling her head to your chest. Her words are muffled into the fabric of your thin shirt, but her tone indicates her affirmation.

Suddenly self-conscious of your heartbeat—that Dasom can definitely hear with her ear pressed up against you—picking up pace at the mention of her father, you suppress your thoughts with a guilty conscience. You internally chide yourself for harbouring feelings for the charming, taken, man, defying arguably one of the most important fundamental rules of becoming an instructor.

Do not develop silly crushes on your student’s parents.

“Ms. ____?” her faint question snaps you out of your reverie, attention brought back to the present moment. While preoccupied, your hand took on a mind of its own, gingerly patting the space between the little girl’s shoulder blades at a slow rhythm.

She gazes up at you when you halt your rhythmic movements, sharp eyes boring into yours. “Are you gonna ask Daddy to come see me dance?”

The edges of your lips flip up in what you hope to be an encouraging smile as you nod your head. Subconsciously, you begin to stress over another encounter with Namjoon, formulating a script to hopefully avoid the stiff, tense atmosphere that lingered throughout all your previous interactions.

“Daddy’s always really busy,” she slurs, drowsiness coating her words and weighing down on her lids. Grumbling under her breath about her numb legs, Dasom crawls onto the floor beside you with her head resting on your thigh. “He’s always working hard for me.”

Your eyes soften at the fetal position she’s taken up on the ground; not only was Dasom lucky to have such a dedicated father, but Namjoon was also blessed with a caring daughter. “You don’t think he can make it?”

“It’s okay,” she whispers and you have to crane your ears to listen. You stroke the strands littering her forehead, gingerly caressing the crown of her head. “It’s okay if Daddy can’t come. I know him, he’s trying to do it all because Mommy’s not with us anymore, but it’s okay. I still love him even if I can’t see him lots.”

A knot forms between your eyebrows, a bittersweet ache forming within the creases of your heart. The painful constriction of your chest ebbs and flows with your shallow breaths that can’t seem to make it past your throat. You bite your lip to subdue the plentiful liquid gathering at your waterline.

No more than a croak escapes your lips before the door to the studio flies open, meeting the adjacent wall with a bang!

“I’m so sorry, my meeting ran late and I couldn’t—” the rest of his speech gets stuck in his windpipe at the sight of you, eyes rimmed red and sniffling, with Dasom, ostensibly dead asleep, on your thigh. “Did she…?”

You blink away your incoming tears, although your dignity has been completely thrown out the window, seeing as he believes that his four-year-old kid made a grown woman, who just so happens to be her ballet teacher, bawl her eyes out.

As you go to gently shake Dasom awake, she sluggishly lifts her head off of your lap and starts to scale your torso like a koala on a tree. Your confusion is vocalized through the high-pitched hum in your throat, but your efforts to pry off her limbs, tightly wound around the small of your waist, are futile.

“Uh, Dasom? It’s time to go home now, angel.” Despite his firm words, Namjoon’s tone is unsure and shaky; he can feel cold sweat build up in the lines of his palms. He knows his daughter, and she can be periodically stubborn and insistent the way children are at her age, thus even as you come to stand, she’s stuck to you like glue. “Would you, uh, did you need a ride?”

You mimic the sheepish smile on his face, hoping the flaming blush you feel on your cheeks isn’t as visible as it seems. “Sure.”

With Dasom latched onto you, both of you make your way to the red car outside after you lock up the studio. Namjoon courteously opens the car door for you, what with your arms supporting his clingy toddler; although, with the brute force he uses, you worry for the state of the hinges. Thankfully, they stay intact and he’s able to slip into the backseat after you.

Before an awkward silence can settle, you clear your throat and prepare to ask him about his day, but you’re interjected by Namjoon’s sudden stammering, “D-driving’s such a hassle for me so Jin drives us everywhere. Jin knows how to drive though, so, don’t worry.” He finishes with a deep chuckle that dies off nearly as quickly as it began. Oh, that’s unexpected.

“You don’t to drive yourself?” Rather than being processed in your brain and logically thought through, the question immediately enters your mouth without any prior scanning for dumbass-content. You instantly regret it, feeling as though it’s much too invasive. “You don’t have to answer that, I—”

The hearty laughter that meets your ears is “No, I do. Sometimes. But its easier raising this one like this.” His tone turns sweet at the mention of Dasom as he reaches over to pat her head, and you’re overcome with an intense desire to prod more into his personal life. Why does he have to work so much? Which shirt in his closet is his favourite? How does he like his eggs in the morning?

“I’m not sure if you already knew about the annual recital on Saturday, but Dasom’s been practicing really hard for weeks and the kids are all really talented, so it would definitely be worth your time...”

As he’s gazing at his daughter, galaxies of devotion and longing swirl within his cocoa irises. The cool light of the moon shines through the windows of the car, illuminating his sharp jawline and strong brows. You’re absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of you. “You must be really busy, huh?”

“More than I’d like to be.”

You rip your entranced gaze away from Namjoon, willing yourself to steady your frantic breaths.

The remainder of the ride still drips with awkward tension, although with a definite lighter tone than before. Jin pulls up to your apartment with your direction and you dislodge a sleepy Dasom from your torso, which is much easier now that her limbs have gone slack with sleep. Handing her off to Namjoon, who practically engulfs her tiny form with his broad chest, you rush out of the vehicle with a quick, “See you!”

You slam the door closed before he can say anything, racing into the comfort of your home with your heart in your throat.

The last thing you had expected to do on a Thursday evening was to go to a birthday dinner. Thursdays are your days off, your in-days. The ones you spend lounging on your couch with a face mask and some wine. And yet, here you are.

When you received a text this morning, the last person you had expected it to be was Namjoon. Much less Namjoon asking you to come over for Dasom’s birthday. You weren’t going to say yes, hell, you had thought of downright ignoring it. It was weird, wasn’t it? But Dasom had quickly carved a toddler-shaped hole into your heart. Truly, you had said yes before the message was even typed out.

And so now you stare at the tall apartment building in front of you, definitely feeling more nervous than before. You knew that Namjoon had to be well-off to afford a weekday chauffeur, but damn did you not expect him to be this well-off.

It seemed today was the day to expect absolutely anything.

You enter the opulent building, signing in at the front desk before entering the large, mirrored elevator. The beating of your heart picks up the more floors you pass, and you can’t help but fidget with your appearance. Namjoon had said it would only be you three, which you guessed was supposed to calm your nerves but really, it did anything but that. The mere thought of eating dinner with Namjoon was nerve-wracking. But now you were about to eat dinner and enter his home; you had no fucking clue what you were getting yourself into.

The doors slide open, and you step into the hallway. A single door could be seen at the end of the hallway, so you quickly make your way over. You stop right in front, taking a deep breath in before pushing the doorbell. A beat, a crash, another beat, then-

The door swings open, and your breath catches in your throat.

Namjoon looks heavenly as always, but seeing him in clothes other than his usual black slacks makes your heart do a cartwheel. God, this is dangerous.

“Ms. ____!”

Before Namjoon can form a hello, Dasom is running past him and wrapping her small arms around your legs. “You came! See daddy! I told you she’d come.” her tongue pokes out of her mouth, aimed straight at her father and you stifle a laugh.

“Did he think I wouldn’t?” you ask, eyebrow arched as you glance at Namjoon, who seems to have a permanent pink hue on his face.

“He said you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, really? What else did he say?”

“He said I had to help him clean either way!”

“Alright, Dasom. That’s enough.” He says firmly, clearing his throat and trying to act as unaffected as possible. His eyes shift to meet yours. “Why don’t you come inside?”

As much as this day really sucked for Namjoon, today had been… different. Not all too much. Of course, getting up was the hardest part, but he had decided to make Dasom her favourite breakfast meal instead of her usual cereal. He had also made sure to get her all the toys she had been wanting, and planned their day out to do Dasom’s favourite things. Namjoon just wanted this day to be special for her. That was all he cared about.

But when Dasom had asked him to invite you, he had hesitated.

Dasom had never spent her birthdays with anyone else but Namjoon. Not that it was intentional, but Namjoon liked to have this day just for the both of them. Because that’s how it’s always been. He didn’t know what it was about you that made his daughter talk about you all the time. Or why she wanted to spend a birthday with you. But how could he deny her? And so, the text was sent.

And now, as Namjoon puts away the dishes while you sit on his couch, he realizes he hadn’t thought of her today. Not as much as the years before. Dinner had been so... nice. It felt nice to have someone else around. Namjoon loves Dasom, but he hadn’t realized how distant he had gotten from everything that had once seemed to be the centre of his life.

Namjoon closes the dishwasher, exiting the kitchen and making his way to the living room. He places the two glasses on the table before pouring the dark red liquid.

“I hope you like Merlot.”

“Oh, please. Anything’s fine.”

You take the wine glass, sending him a thank you before taking a drink. “So,” you lean back, “remind me how to play this again.”

“Ms.____ I told you. You have to take a block without knocking the tower over,” Dasom shows you by pushing a middle wooden block out, “then you have to place it on top, like this.'' She places the same block on top of the tower.

“Ah, right! I just need to make sure if I want to win.”

“You can’t! I’m the best!”

“Oh really? And what about you?” you turn, brow raised and eyes playful.

“Pshh,” he scoffs, leaning forward. “Who do you think she takes after?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever lost a game so quickly.

Namjoon watches as you close Dasom’s door quietly from the hallway before you make your way back to the family room. “She’s out like a light. I guess all that tower building got to her.”

Namjoon snorts. He feels oddly disappointed as he watches you gather your things to go. Was it weird that he wanted you to stay? “Do you need me to get you a ride? I can call Jin to drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine! Really! I already ordered an Uber anyway.” You grab your coat near the door. Before Namjoon can unlock the door, you touch his shoulder. “Listen, thank you for inviting me today. I know you probably wanted to spend this day together instead, but I... “ you inhale, because you aren’t sure of what you want to actually say “thank you.”

Would it be weird to say how much better you made today? Probably. “You don’t… have to thank me. I think I should be the one doing the thanking. I really wanted this day to be special for Dasom and you… you definitely helped. So, thank you.”

The door opens, and the light of the hallway fills his dim flat. “Guess we’re even then.” you smile before turning, making your way to the elevator. Namjoon shuts the door once the sight of you is gone, but the smile on his face remains

“Guess we are.” he whispers wistfully

Perhaps stopping at a flower vendor when you’re already running late was a bad idea, but Namjoon wasn’t thinking about time. He had seen the bouquet of flowers and imagined the huge smile that would stretch across Dasom’s face, and that was all he needed to swerve into the left lane.

Now, though, as he anxiously watches the cars in front of him move a foot forward after thirty minutes, he’s sure he should have just left the fucking flowers alone.

Namjoon doesn’t know how long he’s been shifting his eyes from the traffic to the watch ticking around his wrist, but by a miracle, the cars start moving. Slowly, then he’s speeding down the highway, praying to the skies above he’ll make it in time. Even if he arrives in the midst of the dance, he can’t miss this recital. He won’t.

He sighs in relief when he sees the familiar glass building, though it’s cut short when he sees the parking lot. No available place in sight. Fuck. Namjoon is sure he looks insane right now, swerving around the parking lot in search for an empty spot, or really just any fucking spot that looks like it could fit his monster of a car.

Then the clouds seem to open up, and right near the entrance is a vacant spot. Namjoon swears his mouth almost waters at the sight. Quickly speeding around the lot, he parks, but not before flipping off the angry parent who tries to beat him to it. Namjoon exits his car, quickly grabbing his coat and the large bouquets of flowers from the backseat. He runs to the entrance, practically throwing the shriveled paper at the ticket clerk.

Namjoon slows as he nears the theatre doors, taking a deep breath before calmly opening it. He had completely forgotten to book seats in advance, so he’s not surprised to see the velvet seats filled to the brim. When he looks to the stage, he’s relieved to see that there’s still time until Dasom comes on.

Now, Namjoon knows he’s not the most… balanced person. It’s common knowledge that he trips over his feet and knocks things over sometimes. (Oh, but definitely more than the average person.) Now, if you were to ask Namjoon if he pays attention to his surroundings, he'd say yes.

But if you were to ask Namjoon what he tripped over, he wouldn’t know. It doesn’t matter, because now there’s a furious mother with a horrendous bob cut glaring at him, and what he thinks to be a broken camcorder on the floor. The only thing he can manage is an awkward smile and an even more awkward apology. Namjoon offers to give her the cost for repairs, hell, even offers to buy her a new one. The woman snatches the bills from his hands but she doesn’t go back to minding her business like he thought she would. No, instead she starts to argue with him, in the middle of her child’s recital, no less!

Namjoon can’t do anything but stare at her as she blabbers on about how horrible he is for throwing her camcorder on the floor. (Not like it had much life left, that thing looked like it was from 2007.) She’s damn near spitting on his face, and causing other parents to turn around and glare at them. As if it was his fault. Who knew she had such an attachment to the damn thing!

A hand lands on his shoulder, and for a second he’s sure it’s security ready to escort him out of the building. But when he turns, he’s surprised to see it’s you. Like an angel had ascended from the clouds to save Namjoon from the wrath of a ballet mom. And just like that, you’re leading him away, taking a seat two rows before the stage. Namjoon’s eyes widen at the sight of the empty seat beside you.

It’s that feeling again, and Namjoon’s palms start to get sweaty as he takes a seat. “Jesus, thank you for that,” he whispers, relishing your quiet laughter that follows.

“Of course. She was probably a blink away from going full-blown Karen on you.” you tease.

“Oh, and that wasn’t?”

“Oh, Joon, you haven’t seen how angry ballet moms can get.” you both laugh, huddled together as if you’re sharing a special secret. It seems so natural. As if this is where he’s supposed to be. So much that Namjoon almost doesn’t catch the nickname, but how could he miss it when you say it just like she used to?

The stage lights darken, and Namjoon is grateful for the excuse to look elsewhere. He’s sure if he would have stared at you for just a bit longer, he would have done something completely and utterly stupid. “This is her.” you whisper, and Namjoon buries the thought away.

A blue hue shines across the stage before the soft melody begins to play, filling the room with the sounds of strings and keys. One by one, tiny swans begin to come into view, prancing around the stage. Namjoon catches sight of Dasom, looking adorable in her white tutu and he can’t help the proud smile that makes its way onto his face. He watches with adoration as she does her pirouettes, and maybe there’s some water overflowing in his eyes as they finish their dance, bowing towards the audience.

You both stand, clapping and cheering the loudest, uncaring of the stares from the snobby rich parents because you’re both too damn proud of Dasom to care. For a moment, Namjoon pretends that it’s different, simpler. That it’s not only his child on stage but yours. Ours. He thinks he likes the sound of that too much.

Once the show ends, you lead Namjoon backstage where the buzz of dozens of girls talking fills the air. You tell him that you need to check in on the other kids and disappear through a hallway. He spots Dasom quickly, or rather, she spots him.

“Daddy! You came!”

Namjoon lifts Dasom with his free arm, twirling her around before placing a big kiss on her forehead. Her giggles fill him with delight, and he doesn’t care that his cheeks hurt from how hard he’s been smiling. “Of course I came, angel. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He places her on the ground before he grabs the bouquet of sunflowers from his other arm. The sight of her favourite flower makes Dasom jump with joy. She takes the flowers, and Namjoon silently coos at how much smaller they make her look. Then she spots the other bouquet of flowers in his arm. She scrunches her brows together, about to ask who those are for before her eyes catch something behind Namjoon.

“Ms. ____!”

“Dasom!”

Dasom jumps into your arms, and you laugh at her enthusiasm. “You did so well! I’m so proud of that pirouette!” You twirl her around once her feet hit the ground, smiling as you watch her stumble slightly. Namjoon can’t help but smile too.

“Look what daddy got me, Ms. ____! Look!” Dasom lifts the flowers up, almost shoving them into your face.

“Wow, these are very beautiful, Dasom!”

“Look! He got you some too!” she giggles, and you look at her confusedly then at Namjoon. He sighs, looking pointedly at Dasom despite the cherry hue making its way across his cheeks. She giggles once again before running to her friends. “Dasom!” but it's futile.

If it weren’t for the consistent chatter, Namjoon’s sure there would be an agonizing silence to fill the space between you. You walk closer to him, looking down at your shoes bashfully. “Ah, these-” he takes the bouquet from his arm, “these are for you.”

You looked surprised to say the least. Eyes wide and glassy, your mouth falling ajar. “Wow, uh, really?” you ask, glancing up from the bouquet. He nods shyly.

Listen, he had only planned to buy Dasom her favourite flowers. But then he caught sight of these beautiful yellow roses, tips painted a light amber orange. Somehow they reminded him of you. And the way you had left him with his heart feeling lighter for the first time in years the other night. Maybe it was a way of saying thank you. He’ll admit, he didn’t think it all the way through, but the way you’re smiling at him right now makes him think it wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

There’s a moment where it seems to just be you and him, despite the tons of parents and children running around. He’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes drop to his lips, if only for a millisecond. Namjoon wants to say it. God, he wants to say it so badly. “Listen I… I’ve been meaning to ask you,” his voice fades away as his eyes catch yours. Hopeful. Beautiful. Glimmering.

Just like hers.

“Do you, uh, need a ride home?”

And the bubble bursts.

You step away, looking at anything but him and he hates it. He despises it. He wants you to look at him like that again. He wants nothing more than to pull you back and kiss you senselessly, like his mind is screaming for him to do. But he can’t. He can’t do it for some fucking reason and he almost wants to cry in frustration because why can’t this just be easier? Why is it so hard to move on? You don’t deserve this. You deserve so much better than what he can offer you. And that thought keeps him still.

“Uh, sure.”

Quiet.

Say something, idiot! Tell her what you’ve been dying to say! Just fucking say it!

Namjoon hates himself for the next words that tumble out of his mouth.

“Let’s find Dasom.”

The drive to your house is just like it was before, except this time there’s no chatter to fill the emptiness. Dasom is sound asleep in the backseat. You've never seemed more distant than now, facing the window, body pressed against the door. You had almost begged to go in the back with Dasom, and Namjoon doesn’t know why he didn’t just let you.

How did it come to this? This wasn’t what he wanted. This night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Everything should have gone differently.

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever fix this. If things will go back to normal. If he completely ruined it. But he’s too afraid to ask. Too afraid to know.

Namjoon has never hated the quiet more.

The sight of your apartment complex fills him with dread. All he can think about is all he wants to say, all he should have said, all he wants to take back. God, Namjoon wishes he could take it back. If only there was a way to turn back the time. Why had he been so afraid to make a move? Why did it hurt so much? But he knows going back wouldn’t help. Not when he doesn’t know if he would have done it differently.

His car comes to a stop, and the doors unlock. He faintly catches the small thank you before the passenger door slams shut. Namjoon watches as you make your way up the pathway, feet moving briskly and it feels like he’s watching you walk away from him.

You’re shuffling through your bag, looking for your key. And fuck, is he really just going to this go? Is he that stubborn that he can’t see past himself? He can’t. He can’t let you go. Not like this.

Well do something, dumbass!

The door of his car is thrown open, and before he can overthink it-

“____!”

You still. You turn.

Namjoon shuts the door. He walks up the steps and stops a few feet away from you, but he feels like he’s miles away. You look up at him, questioning. Your eyes aren’t the same ones. Not like you looked at him before. Yet they’re still warm. Inviting. Namjoon is tongue-tied, and all those words he wanted to say are gone now.

“Are we… good?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I just…” he scratches the back of his neck. “That moment back at the recital. I… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” you say, simply. When he looks at you, he can’t tell what you’re feeling. You’ve blocked him off. “Namjoon, really. It’s fine.”

But is it really? He wants to ask. But he doesn’t. It’s quiet again, this time the sound of the wind rustling the browning leaves above filling the space. Still.

“I… god, I don’t know why this is so hard. Ever since, you know,” you don’t. “I… I didn’t think I'd ever get an opportunity to…” he inhales, unsure of what he wants to say first.

“I just feel like I ruined it so carelessly.”

You don’t say anything for a few moments. You only stare at him, really stare at him. Like you can see through his mirage, through the walls he’s spent so long building up. You’re taking it all, but there’s nothing he can take back from you.

“You didn’t.” you whisper it so quietly, Namjoon would have thought his mind had taken pity on him. But a smile slips onto your face. Unlike the other ones. It doesn’t fill him with joy. It doesn’t give him butterflies. This one hurts.

And he knows you’re telling the truth.

“This… It might take a while.”

The wind picks up. The leaves rustle. The cold, biting.

“That’s ok. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Your lips are bittersweet on his tongue.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN TO KARLA !! ILYYYY <3

#bangtanhq #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #btsguild #btsgoldnet #cypherwritersnet #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic

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ciggylungz · 4 years

Text

Miss Ginger

Miss ginger

Blurb night- 2.5k

(request: can you plz do something about Harry being all soft with his kids?)

-----

Harry had always been a family man. Ever since he was a little boy he dreamed of having his own family, couple of kids, a nice family home with a big back garden for the little ones to run around in and him and his wife to attempt to grow some fruits and veg and maybe a few sunflowers or daisies. Simple, modest, pure and quaint but most of all, happy.

The day Harry met Y/n he knew she was special. She had this aura that he wanted to wrap himself in like a blanket. A laugh as pretty as song birds in the morning, a heart of gold, quick wit and full of talent. He knew she was going to be his wife someday, and he swears the day she said yes when he got down on one knee his heart grew 3 times its size.

The pair planned their wedding to be an intimate, beautiful event and with the help of Harry’s lovely mother Anne and Y/n’s combined work they were able to pull it off. They had decided to invite their parents and siblings, their closest friends- which included Harry’s former bandmates who made sure to embarrass the newly wed man during their best man speech- and all of Harry’s god children as well as their parents.

Harry wasn’t shy about crying when he saw his bride walk down the isle towards him, her dress was a simple silk fitted gown with delicate trimming of lace. Y/n chose to wear the same pearl earrings her mother had worn at her own wedding and a diamond necklace Anne had gifted her for the occasion. He really couldn’t help the waterworks making their way down his face as he took in her beauty, he stayed weepy through the entirety of their vows a huge smile across his dimpled face when he finally lifted the vail over her head giving her the first kiss as a married couple. She was his, and he was hers and the pair couldn’t be more smitten for each other even as they stand where they are now nearly 4 years into their marriage.

Over the last 4 glorious, joyful years of being fully committed to each other, sharing a surname and living as a unite the pair had welcomed 2 beautiful children into the world. Alfie who was nearly 3, he was conceived only around 6 months into their marriage yet they couldn’t have been more elated to find out they were expecting. The second was their little girl Rosana that they affectionally called by her nickname ‘Rosie’ and she was now coming up on 10 months old, she was starting to become increasingly mobile already such a bubbly happy little girl who had her dad wrapped around her tiny chubby finger.

Harry was currently on a break, just finishing his first solo tour finally getting some downtime to be home with his family and he couldn’t be happier. He loved every part of fatherhood, he enjoyed getting up in the morning and starting the little ones routines. First Harry would go downstairs, putting a kettle on while taking some breastmilk y/n had pumped from the fridge to warm up, when both of those were taken care of he’d migrate back upstairs into his sons room where he’d usually find his little guy sitting up in his new big boy toddler bed playing with one of the various stuffed toys on his bed as he waited patiently to be gotten up. Harry adored the way his son would perk up when he walked in, opening the toddlers curtains to let the sunshine in giving him a nice morning cuddle before taking him to the bathroom to change out of his pullup into his new big boy underwear since y/n and Harry are finally reaching the tail end of potty training their first born. It had been a struggle, yet every time their little boy danced around with a sticker on his shirt for going on the potty it was worth every bed wetting incident, and all the terrible two’s tears that came with the teaching. After he had him changed, he tried his best to tame the boys hair. The little tyke inherited his fathers chocolate curls unlike his sister who wore a head full of ginger ringlets.

After all of the hygiene tasks were complete, he’d serve the boy his breakfast, steeping his wife and him a cup of tea using the remaining warm water to heat the breastmilk in for when Rosie decided to greet the day. Harry didn’t mind giving his girl a bottle feed so his wife could get a little extra sleep in the mornings, opting to nurse during the day and before bed pumping whatever’s left to hold Rosie over till her mother wakes up.

Unlike some people, when Harry heard the baby monitor start to go off with the cries Rosie gives when she first wakes up he smiles instead of groans. He didn’t get angry when his kids cried, he was actually good at reading the cry’s instead of getting frustrated which always helped calm it down quickly and his little girl would always have a little cry when she’d wake up and think she’s all alone.

As soon as her daddy opened her nursery door the little girl stood up in her cot, balancing herself by gripping the railing to get a good look at who was coming towards her. once the morning light was shining in from Harry opening her curtains the tears stopped and a sniffling nose and big gummy grin was shining on her face, a contagious smile at that.

“Good morning sunshine!” the man raised his voice a few octaves, a big grin on his face as he picked her up from her bed giving her a nice hug as he swayed back and forth. “Did yeh have a good sleep, miss ginger? You look very beautiful this morning my girl, always take your shirt off when yeh sleep don’t ya’ silly girl? I get it girlfriend, sometimes you gotta let it breathe babe. C’mon think it’s time for a nappy change and a bottle hmm?” the little girl giggled at her father, bouncing in his arms and babbling incoherently whilst her dad cleaned her up and got her ready for her morning feed.

Harry set the baby in her bouncer, putting the milk into her bottle checking the temperature on his wrist before giving it to the still topless baby. It was easier to just leave it off during the morning snack, she was a rather messy little girl since she always wanted to hold her own bottle now often letting it dribble onto her tummy as she removed the nipple from her mouth to babble at her father. She always had a lot to say, even if no one but her knew what she was on about, no one had created a baby talk translation app yet so until then her passionate rants wouldn’t be understood.

Alfie was at an age where he wanted to be independent more, he reminds everyone how he’s a big boy, whenever he puts his own dish in the washer or screws the top onto his sippy cup by himself. Both his parents found it absolutely adorable and humorous as well.

When Harry heard the pitter patter of his wife coming down the stairs around 45 minutes after he’d got the kids up, a soft smile etched itself onto his face. He swears every time he sees her, no matter what state she’s in he still finds her breathtakingly gorgeous. Angelic even. Even when he had pulled Alfie out of her as she pushed, he still found her beautiful. Nothing would ever change the love and attraction he felt for his wife.

“Mornin’ love, sleep well?” the man brought his wife into his arms, giving her a warm hug and a kiss on the crown of her head. “Mhm, thank you for gettin’ up with the kids so I could get a few extra minutes of rest. Love yeh h.” she stood on her toes to peck his lips, this far into a relationship and being parents a slightly morning breathy kiss didn’t bother them in the slightest. After you’ve changed some ungodly diapers, smells don’t affect you the same anymore.

“no problem, had an easy morning Alfie was good about brushing his teeth and me and Rosie had a nice cuddle. She woke up shirtless again, I’m starting to get her vibe think I might start just being half naked all the time.” Y/n chuckled at her husband, sipping her tea slowly before responding. “At least it was just her top this time, last week when I got her up she had taken everything off. Had to do an extra load of wash after that one. Silly little girl.”

The couple could fawn over their kids for an infinite amount of time, but a thud from the living room disrupted their banter. The two wore matching raised eyebrows while venturing into the room, being met with the sight of Rosie’s bottle tossed at the wall and the girl herself holding her feet up with her little hands in a split position while still strapped into her bouncer chair.

“Hey missy, throwing things isn’t nice. C’mon time to get dressed, can’t have nakey babies crawling in the garden can we? Neighbors might think we aren’t watchin’ after yeh well enough.” Her mother unstrapped her, bringing her to her chest to kiss her cheeks, her father deciding to chime in, “I think with that chubby tummy and those chunky thighs they’ll know our girl is more than taken care of.”

y/n bounced the baby in her arms, cooing at her and mocking Harry’s words with a baby voiced ‘is that true?! Rosie are you a chunky lady?’ which got them a chorus of baby laughs from the infant.

Once y/n got both of her little ones changed as well as herself cleaned up and changed for the day, she took them back downstairs where their father was sitting on the couch glancing between his phone and the tv screen as he shoveled some cereal into his mouth.

Alfie made a b-line for his dad, excited to show him the outfit his mother had dressed him in for the day.

“Daddy! Daddy look! I got clothes on, mummy says I look handsome! Look I got turtles on my socks, daddy look!” the little boy was over the moon about his clothes. Y/n had chosen some toddler size sweatpants, Alfies favorite t-shirt- a Gucci one Harry had got him which his wife thought was insane to dress a messy 3 year old in a 250 pound shirt, but their son loved it because his father wore the same brand- and some socks with little turtles as the print on them. It was going to be a pretty chill day at home so there was no need for fancy clothes.

“Oh my gosh! Bud you look very handsome, look at my dapper boy! Gimme five, big guy” Harry held his palm in the air, his son jumping to smack his much smaller one to his fathers, beaming from all the praise he’d gotten from his doting parents.

When Harry looked over at his wife holding his daughter his smile got even bigger. There stood his beautiful bride, clad in a pair of his black socks she liked to steal, some comfy adidas sweats and a t-shirt Harry had given her years ago. Her hair was in a sloppy bun, lips slightly shiny with some lip balm and only one earring in since Rosie had snatched the other stud from her right ear and tossed it somewhere Y/n too caught up in her children to even remember to take the second one out even after 2 weeks going by now.

His daughter was in a yellow polka dot onesie and her hair was in a little whale spout on the top of her head. His girl’s looked stunning in even the simplest of clothes, they were his angels and he adored them.

“And look at you girls! Little red head, you look dashing in that onesie! Red carpet ready my girl. And you miss yummy mummy, are stunning today. C’mere I want kisses from my ladies don’t be stingy.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at her husband, even when she looked like she lived in a alley behind a gas station he still made a point to make her feel beautiful. Of course, she adored the way her husband talked to their baby girl too, they had a long talk while she was pregnant with her where Harry vowed to always build up their daughter from infancy till the day he died. No matter how old she is, what she was wearing, if she was covered in gunk from the sandbox or in her future prom dress, he promised to always let her know she was beautiful and loved. Harry never wanted his kids to feel any less than supported, validated and loved.

It was around 1 in the afternoon when Rosie woke up from her first nap, nursing while Y/n and Harry sat together on the couch playing with Alfie and his blocks. The family had a quick bite to eat, hanging out just enjoying each other’s company. Y/n handed their daughter to Harry for him to burp her so she could refill Alfie’s sippy cup and grab both her and Harry some water.

After distributing the beverages she sat on the floor, playing with both her kids and holding Rosie up by her hands so she could dance around in her mothers grip. She loved to dance, she was always on the move crawling full speed everywhere and always squirming whenever she heard her fathers music.

Today the little girl had more in store for her parents, taking them both of them by surprise when she hoisted herself up to cruse holding onto the couch before looking right at her mother suddenly taking her first steps towards her.

Harry and Y/n both gasped, eyes wide and mouths showing huge grins while starting to cheer their baby on waving their hands and praising her whilst the baby took wobbly steps to her mom flopping into her chest before she was lifted in the air and spun around, excited cheers from the entire family as they celebrated her milestone.

“You’re walkin’ now Rosie! My big girl! Oh my gosh I’m so proud of you princess!”

Y/n tossed her into the air gently, catching her then setting her back on her feet letting her walk to her dad who was now in full blown celebration mode hands waving in the air while he cheered. His little girl toddled towards him, squealing as he scooped her up and kissed all over her face.

These were the moments he dreamed about his whole life, and he swears the dream didn’t even compare to the reality now. He’s never been happier.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #dad!harry #harry styles daddy #harry styles dad #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles concept #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #harry styles blog #harry styles angst

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etoileholland · 4 years

Text

My devilish darling boy

Anonymous asked: Dad!tom’s kid accidentally ruins the new script for his movie after finishing it and is reluctant to tell the truth when they see how mad he gets at the boys thinking one of them did it. Also I love you😘❤️

Pairing: Dad!Tom x female reader

Warnings: an argument & some bad words throughout

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: I love you too and I really hope you enjoy! Requests/prompts are always open so don’t hesitate to send some in 💛

(photo not mine, all credit goes to its respective owner)

“You can watch over Luca, right?” You asked as you grabbed your purse from the table by the door. You were going off to a business luncheon and you couldn’t bring yours and Tom’s two year old son Luca with you.

“Yes darling, I’m plenty capable of watching over our son. Actually, I’m planning on visiting my parents so they can watch over Luca while my brothers read the script.” He replied as he helped you put on your jacket.

“That’ll be nice, he loves to go visit grandma and play with Tessa.”

“He sure does.” He grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into a kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you too, but I gotta go.” You looked down at your watch, letting out a sigh. “Shit, I’m gonna be late. Just make sure you watch over Luca, I mean it.” You pointed your finger at him and closed the door behind you.

I can do this, he thought. He looked over to see Luca sitting on the floor with his pacifier in his mouth. He smiled at his son, walking over to scoop him up onto his arms, before kissing him on the cheek. Luca had inherited Tom’s curly brown hair but inherited your eyes, and Tom loved that.

“C’mon baby boy, let’s go see grandma.” He stated and his son buried his head into his chest.

—

A twenty minute drive later, Tom and Luca were parked outside of the Holland residence. He got Luca out of his car seat and proceeded to knock on the door. After a second, the door swung open to see his mum beaming at him.

“Honey, it’s so good to see you. And how’s my darling little angel doing?” Nikki cooed as Tom passed off Luca to her so she could hold him. He put his arms around her neck and giggled lightly.

“The boys are sitting in the office waiting to read your script, so I’ll watch over my precious grandson.” She tickled him lightly which caused him to giggle some more.

“Thank you mum, trust me I appreciate it.” He kissed her on the cheek and entered the house, immediately being tackled by Tessa.

“Tessa darling I’ve missed you!” He petted her behind the ears and rubbed her belly; her tail wagged happily as he gave her some love. After a minute he got back up and walked into the office, where Sam and Harry were awaiting his arrival.

“Hey guys.” He said as his brothers stood up to give him a hug.

“Where’s the little one?” Sam inquired.

“With mum, she’ll watch over him while we’re working.” Tom said as he pulled up a chair and sat down.

“Good, we don’t need any distractions. Now gimme that script, I’m dying to read it.” Harry snatched it from Tom’s hand and plopped back down into his chair.

Two long hours later, the boys were done reading it.

“Wow Tom, I never thought I would say this but you’re actually talented.” Harry spoke up and leaned back in his chair.

“He’s right, that was actually super good. That twist at the ending was pure genius.” Sam added with a chef’s kiss, and Tom laughed

“Although the spelling errors in this are astronomical. How the hell did you even make it through sixth form?” Harry remarked and was met with a swift punch to the arm.

“Ouch.” He rubbed his bicep and Tom held his finger up to his mouth to shush him. “Did you hear that?” He stated in a hushed tone. The boys looked at each other, their ears perking up as they heard a crying in the distance. The crying grew louder, and they looked up to see Nikki standing in the doorway with Luca in her arms.

“Darling, I think Luca misses you. He won’t stop crying so do you mind taking a break and tending to that right now?” Nikki asked as Tom walked closer to her before grabbing his son from her arms.

“Angel, what’s the matter? Why is my baby boy upset?” He cooed, gently bouncing him and holding his son tight.

“I’m sad.”

“Why are you sad, hm?” He asked lovingly.

“Cuddles.” He whispered and Tom knew exactly what he was referring to. Tom always devotes at least thirty minutes out of his day to cuddle with him, but he must’ve forgotten due to being tied up with the script.

“Let do that right now, alright?” He kissed the top of his head and Luca’s crying began to cease.

“You guys can make critiques on it, yeah? And please keep that safe, because I didn’t work that hard on it for it to be ruined.” He said while the boys nodded their heads.

“We’ll watch over it, don’t worry.” Sam said, and Harry added, “Now go spend some time with your son.”

“Thank you.” His son rubbed his eyes and Tom wiped the tears away, and walked into the living room so that he could cuddle with him.

Tom lie down on the couch and set Luca on his chest, rubbing light circles on his back to get him to fall asleep. He could hear his breathing become more relaxed, and after a few minutes Luca was sound asleep. Tom dozed off as well, and was woken by forty minutes later.

“Done!” Luca exclaimed energetically, wriggling himself out of his father’s arms. He climbed off the couch and toddled over to Tessa to pet her.

Tom crouched down, kissed Luca on the top of his head, and decided to take this opportunity to go back to his brothers to get some critiques for the script.

—

“Tom, I was going to go for a walk to get the post, would you want to come with?” Dom asked, jacket and keys in hand. The boys had spent about two hours marking up Tom’s script, and took to drinking tea to keep themselves awake.

“Um sure, let me go grab my jacket and make sure someone capable watches over Luca.” He got up, sauntering into the kitchen, where he saw Luca and Paddy both sharing a bowl of Cheerios.

“Can you watch over him? After mum, I trust you the most and I’m gonna go take a walk with dad.”

“Yeah sure.” Paddy replied flatly as he intently watched Luca slowly put Cheerios into his mouth.

Tom then poked his head into the office, and stated, “When you’re done, put the script back in my bag and lock the door so that nothing bad will happen to it, you got it?”

“Have some faith in us, big brother. It’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Sam waved, but Tom hesitantly smiled. “Okay, I’m trusting you both. Don’t make me regret that decision.”

“You won’t!” Harry hollered back. They waited until they heard the front door lock, and shared a glance.

“Fifa?” Harry asked and Sam nodded. “Hell yeah. I think the script will be fine here on the table, right?” Sam inquired. “Yeah, Tom worries too much. No wonder he has a few grey hairs.” He remarked as they closed the door to the office, leaving the script on the table with a cup of tea right next to it. They waltzed out of the office and waved at Paddy, who was in the kitchen.

“Hey would you want to play fifa with us? We cannot stand to read that thing anymore.”

“I would, but I have to watch over Luca.” He looked over at his nephew who looked curiously back at him.

“Just leave him with his Cheerios. Honestly Tom worries too much about his kid, he’ll be fine.” Harry remarked and Paddy agreed. “You’re right.”

Paddy stood up and pushed his chair in. He looked over and pointed at his nephew before saying, “Now you stay here, and don’t leave this chair.” He glanced while Luca stared at him curiously.

“Good boy.” The boys walked off and Luca was left by himself and his cereal. After a few minutes he finished, looking around to see that he was alone.

“Done.” He said as he began to crawl off the chair. He toddled over into the office where Tom’s backpack was, which was also where Tom had placed Luca’s snacks and toys. While looking for his stuffed monkey Mr. Bananas, he bumped into the table and the tea conveniently spilled all over the script.

“Uh oh.” He whispered as the tea dripped off the table and onto the wood floor. Fleeing the crime scene, Luca swiftly waddled away from the room, Mr. Bananas in hand, and went into the living room like nothing had ever happened.

—

Thirty minutes later, Tom skipped into the office and was surprised to see the room vacant. He was also surprised to see his script soaking wet, tea cup on its side as the tea dripped onto the hardwood floor.

“Those bastards.” He stormed out of the room, drenched script in hand while frantically searching the house for his little brothers. He stopped when he saw Sam and Harry sitting in the living room in front of the telly, headsets on with no cares in the world. He stood in front of the TV and unplugged the Xbox from the wall, while ignoring his brothers groans and remarks.

“Why the fuck would you leave a teacup right next to the script? And why didn’t you put the script somewhere safe like I told you to? It was supposed to be locked away in the office for a reason, and I know one of you fuckers must have done something.” He spat, holding the sopping wet script in his hands, before slamming it down on the table. “Do you know how hard I worked on that thing? Just for you to spill tea all over it like the twats you are, and not even own up to the fact that you did it?”

“What are you on about? We didn’t spill tea on your script.” Harry stated as he reached for a crisp from the bowl next to him.

“Alright, you’re playing dumb. Then can you tell me why there is earl grey tea all over the script?” Tom spat but the boys were speechless.

“Well, say something. Don’t make me look like an idiot standing here with a sopping wet script.”

“That’s never stopped you from looking like an idiot before.” Harry smirked, and Tom clenched his fist. His jaw was clenched, and his face was burning red.

“I swear, if you don’t own up to this I will literally murder you.” Tom said angrily which only caused his brothers to stifle a laugh.

“Fucking own up to it!” He yelled and his brothers sat quiet.

Luca was sitting on the hallway floor, around the corner of the living room. His lip quivered as his father raised his voice, feeling bad that his father was blaming his brothers for something they didn’t do.

“We definitely didn’t do that.” Harry munched on a crisp, passing the bowl to Sam so he could grab some as well. Just then Tom snatched the bowl from Sam’s hands and slammed it down on the coffee table.

“Fucking hell Tom, we didn’t do it. Why don’t you believe when we said it wasn’t us?” Sam retorted.

“Who else could it have been, hm? You were the last ones in there and you were supposed to lock the door after you left. Might I add you were also supposed to put the script in my bag like I explicitly asked.” He paced the room, covering his face with his hands. “And besides, why did you go off and play fifa when I specifically asked you to critique the damn script.”

“I don’t know, we got bored of reading it and we wanted to take a break. But why the hell would we ruin it?” Harry let out a huff, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I don’t know, maybe you have a personal vendetta against me or something. Or, maybe because you’re jealous of my success, and you can’t stand to see me accomplish something that you could only dream of.”

The room instantly became eerily silent as the boys shared a glance. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut through it, and the hostility loomed over everyone. The boys snarled at the same time, and Sam flipped off Tom.

“Fuck you.” Harry spat at him, and Tom’s face became redder.

“No, fuck you.” He pointed at them, and stormed out of the room. He rounded the corner too quickly and nearly tripped over his son who was beginning to cry.

“Shit.” He whispered and paused for a second at his choice of word. “I’m sorry angel, I didn’t see you sitting there. Don’t worry about what daddy said, I’m not mad at you at all.” He said in a soft tone, but Luca began to cry.

“Daddy, I-” he sobbed. Tom instantly crouched down right next to his son and scooped him into a big hug.

“What’s wrong now?” He asked, his tone sounding more harsh than intended.

“I d-did it daddy, I-I’m sorry. P-please don’t get a-angey.” He blubbered and Tom’s heart sank.

“You did it?” He asked, and Luca nodded. “D-didn’t mean t-to.” He sobbed, which made Tom instantly feel guilty for blaming his brothers.

“Why did you do it?” He tilted his head to the side, scanning his son’s face as he waited for the answer.

“B-bananas.”

“Oh.” The pieces clicked in his mind as he realised that Luca would go into his bag to look for Mr. Bananas, since he loved to play with him after their cuddle sessions. “I b-bumped into the table and it s-spilled.”

Tom let out a long sigh, tilting his head backwards as he let out a small groan. He looked over at his son who was rubbing his eyes, letting out small cries as the tears streamed down his face. He picked Luca up, and he instantly buried his head into the crook of Tom’s neck. “Daddy’s not mad darling, I’m sorry. It can be fixed for sure, I promise.” He continued to hold his sobbing son as a tear fell down his own cheek. “Please don’t cry anymore bub, it’s okay.” He felt his son’s breathing calm down, his little sobs turning into hiccups.

“Do you have the clicks now?” He asked, while his son buried his face into his chest.

He picked Luca up and made his way back into the living room, pausing before beginning to apologise profusely.

“Guys I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t have blamed you. I know you said you didn’t do it and I should have trusted you. I didn’t realise Luca went in there to get his toy, and he must’ve knocked into the table, and that was how the tea got all over it.”

“No, it’s our fault, we should’ve locked the door like you said to. We just thought you were being overprotective.” Sam stated and Harry added, “We didn’t anticipate anything bad happening to it, but we should’ve been more careful, especially with a toddler running around.”

“It could’ve been worse I guess, at least no one was harmed, right darling?” He looked down at his son, who clutched his shirt with his tiny hands.

“But you’re right, I was being far too overprotective with it. Luckily I had an extra copy of it that I sent over to Robert to read, so I can ask him to just send it back when he’s finished.” He lightly adjusted his son to rest on his hip, and looked apologetically at his brothers. “I didn’t mean what I said just now, I was just furious at how much work went into it.”

He looked down at the floor, and whispered, “Do you forgive me?”

“It’s understandable why you would be upset, I swear it won’t happen again. But of course, apology accepted.” They ran over and everyone put their arms around him in a large embrace. Tom felt his son squirming so he backed away from the hug.

“I love you all so much, you know that, right?” He asked while his brothers all nodded.

“We love you too, you twat.”

——

Mes anges (taglist): @starkissedholland @scarletxwidow @fangirlwithasweettooth @lmaotshollandd @musicalkeys @taciturnspidey

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland blurb #dad!tom #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x female reader #tom holland and you #tom holland and y/n #tom holland blurbs #tom holland writing #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #tom holland #tom holland one shot #tom holland one shots #mine #text

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sup-hoes-its-me · 4 years

Text

A Hero II (Shinsou x Reader)

A/N: I did not intend for this fic to be three parts, but it seems that I have been writing too fast to keep track of the word count. This chapter will have a little fluff with mostly angst. I promise though, the next part is entirely fluff and my favorite piece to date. Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for the support.

!!!Sort of spoilers but not really you’ll be fine

word count: 4350

Part One/Part Two/ Part Three

“Where are you?”

“I’m with Aizawa-sensei. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, that’s great. Do you mind if I come visit for a minute?”

“Uh, sure, but why?”

“I don’t know, I just really don’t feel good. I feel like crying and I need to see you.”

“Ah, okay. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’ll be by the classroom in like, five minutes.”

“See you in a little bit.”

Shinsou set down his phone after hanging up. “I’m really sorry for taking a call while we’re talking, sensei.”

The dark haired, tired teacher in front of him only sighed and shook his head. He really didn’t care if the kid took a phone call. He was more mature and obedient than the majority of his students, so it wasn’t a big deal. It was nice to take a break from teaching reckless wannabe heroes all day like Midoriya and Bakugo. “Someone coming to interrupt our lesson, I suppose.”

“Yeah, but just for a second. It won’t be an issue.”

“Who?”

“Y/N.”

“Bakugo’s adoptive sister, right?” he asked, exasperated already. He could only imagine the kind of person someone related to that blond devil would be, even if it wasn’t by blood. Just being around him for so long no doubt would corrupt anyone. Having one Bakugo around was more than enough, but two? Unmanageable. A good reason to quit his job.

Shinsou nodded. He fiddled with his neck wrappings, feeling himself getting anxious. He wanted to see Y/N, he really did. But in front of his teacher, someone he looked up to and didn’t want to see him go soft...not ideal. He just hoped she would talk to him outside in private and nothing be heard or seen. “Yes.”

Aizawa leant back against the blackboard, crossing his arms over his chest. Talking about his personal life could be useful too. He was curious about the kid. He was so ambitious and strong-willed, competent in a world of idiots. If this girl, whoever she was, made him happy, that would only boost his morale when fighting. It was a good thing for him to be lovesick, actually. Aizawa hummed, “Interesting. She’s in your class, I completely forgot about that. Didn’t think you were the type to have friends, honestly.”

“I’m not. It’s just...well, I can’t explain. She’s different.”

A head popped in the doorway of the classroom a moment later, and it was almost as if a cloud had formed on the ceiling. Her smile was obviously fake, and her eyes screamed with the shine of not-so-distant sadness. He had to close his eyes for a quick moment and take a deep breath to calm himself down. His face was heating up and his heart started to race again. She was so fucking precious, even when she was about to cry..

“Shinsou,” she muttered, not even bothering to step into the classroom.

“I’ll be back in a minute, sensei.”

“That’s fine. Take your time.” The man waved off his student, not wanting to bother him. The girl looked pathetic standing there with that fake grin. Already, he could tell she wasn’t much like her brother. He should have known that knowing Shinsou cared for her so much. He wouldn’t associate with people like the hothead. Aizawa also didn’t hate her upon first glance, and that was quite shocking. He really disliked everyone.

Shinsou stepped outside into the hall. She stepped forward to be closer to him just by a little, and her eyes flickered down to his hand. Knowingly, he reached out to take her hand in his, rubbing the backs of her knuckles with his thumb, just like he always did when she was sad. She was the first one to initiate it, holding his hand that time in the alleyway. Ever since then, she asked for him to hold her hand, to make her feel a little better.

“Did something happen?”

“No, not really. I’ve just had a really shitty day. I accidentally spilled fruit milk all over my homework and my brand new textbook. When I was walking out to the dorms, that little freak with the purple balls on his head tried to look up my skirt. My mom called and yelled at me because of my grade in mathematics, even though I told her you were gonna start tutoring me, but she didn’t even care. And then, when I got to the dorms, I tried to take a nap but I had this terrible nightmare where you died and stuff, and it’s just been a really bad day.”

“Wow, that does sound shitty, I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. For a moment he paused, thinking through what he could do for her before asking, “Do you want to wait here and we can go out somewhere when Sensei and I are finished?”

“Maybe. I’d rather hang out with you the rest of the day then go back and wallow in my own self-loathing,” she answered miserably, letting her head fall to stare at her shoes. “I just don’t want to bother you, Shinsou.”

“Don’t say that. You’re never a bother,” he hushed. “Didn’t I tell you I would do anything for you?”

“You’re too nice to me.”

“Not possible. I’m just doing what I want.” He always said that. He was never doing her a favor, she was never making him go out of his way or do something he didn’t want to do. For some reason, he found that whatever she wanted, he also wanted. If she wanted to sleep in bed all day, so be it, that’s what he wanted to do too. If she wanted to travel the world, he might just drop everything in Japan and go with her. He felt ridiculous about it, but it was true. That’s how she made him feel.

Whenever she was happy, he was happy. So, all he wanted was her to be content.

“You’ll have to tell me more about your day and that nightmare you had later. Talking about it helps.”

“Okay.”

“Wait in the library until I’m done?”

“Yeah. I’ll see you later.”

He nodded, taking away his hand to step back into the doorway. He placed a hand on the doorframe and leaned into it. “Bye, Y/N.” His eyes trained on her face as she lifted her head to look at him, a small, genuine smile on her face this time. Maybe he was dramatic, but that girl was all he ever wanted to look at. That smile, it made him feel like a million bucks. He felt like a real hero whenever her lips turned up in that familiar way.

“Thank you, Hitoshi. Bye…” He turned to enter the classroom but she stopped him, grabbing his wrist before he could completely go. When he turned to see what she wanted, she pushed herself forward into his arms, wrapping her own around his waist. “I really wanted a hug.”

He sighed into her touch, wrapping his own arms around her shoulder and one to rest on the back of her head. “No problem.”

“Okay, now for real this time, bye.” Finally, the girl pulled away from his hug, waving to him with her now with a full bright smile on her face and a bit of pep in her step. For a moment, all he could look at was her going down the empty hall, he almost forgot what he was originally doing.

“You done?” a voice mumbled behind him, and he jumped. How could he forget that Aizawa was right there? He saw them hug and everything, how awkward. He felt like a real sissy boy in front of his idol.

“Yes, sorry about that. Won’t happen again.”

The man rolled his eyes, his lip quirking in the tiniest of smirks. “We both know you can’t promise that,” he said. “So what is she? Your little girlfriend?”

His mouth opened and he stumbled over words to say. “No-No, of course not. She’s my friend and that’s it.”

“I see.”

They went back to the lesson as normal, talking and discussing possible moves and tools that could be utilized with his quirk. Still, Y/N ran through his mind over and over. At this point, he felt like he was actually going insane. Why couldn’t he focus on something else for once? Had this girl completely consumed his mind? He just couldn’t shake the thought of her and how she looked at him. Did people normally feel this way for their best friends? He had no idea, he’d never had one to know for sure.

Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to tell anyone about how he felt. He wasn’t really big on talking about his feelings.

The clock ticked away quickly, and by the time he was focused on the lesson at hand, it was already over. Aizawa had to go home to feed his cat dinner, and the sun was just going down for the night. He gathered his things and started out the door, leaving his sensei behind.

“She’s cute.Your ‘not girlfriend’, that is. She’s not what I expected.”

“Yeah, I know. She’s kinda perfect.”

The older man only sighed, nodding to agree with the boy. “For you.”

“No, she’s just my friend.”

“Fine. She’s the perfect friend for you.” He waved his hands, motioning the boy to leave him the hell alone and go to the library. “Get going, your friend is waiting.”

Needless to say, that was one of the most embarrassing moments of his entire life.

_____________________________________________

The dorms had been around for a couple months now, that meant that classes lived together and saw each other much more often than they used to. Shinsou had to admit, he wasn’t upset about the change. He couldn’t decide what he liked better, waking up to see Y/N in the dining room in her pajamas and hair untamed, stuffing her face with sugary cereal, or her visiting his room late at night after curfew to watch movies and stare out the window looking for constellations.

God, seeing her every day, even on the weekends... It made him feel like this was worth it. It had been months and he hadn’t tired of her. Normally, he couldn’t stand the same annoying friends after a period of time.

He was nearly asleep when a soft knock sounded on his door, echoing softly in the dorm. Lazily, he picked up a pen from his side table and tossed it to the door with a quiet thud, signalling for the only person it could be to come in. No one visited him in his dorm, no one except her.

The door creaked open, followed by a girl slipping through the crack. A click meant the door had closed, and he let out a breath of relief. She was here again to give him company, something he desperately needed..

When she was with him, he felt so different. He felt special, like there was hope for him. He relished in the feeling, entranced by her presence alone.

"Hey," he breathed, rolling over in his bed to face her. She flopped down on the other side of the bed, face first into the pillows. “What’s up?”

“Lonely and missing you,” she told him. Again, his heart jumped at her words. She missed him. She always told him she missed him, when they were allowed to go home, when they had classes at different times, when she went out with her friend, on long weekends away from the dorms. She always missed him. He was almost sure she was exaggerating. How could she miss him that much? He wasn’t very exciting, just a friend. The only other person she often missed was her brother, who stayed across the yard of dorms.

“Well, what do you wanna do? Watch a movie or something?” he asked.

“Honestly, I just want to talk. I have so many things on my mind.” She paused, rolling over on the bed to face him, face sinking into his pillow. Her eyes held so much fear he thought she must be drowning in it. He had no idea what to expect when she came in that night. She hadn’t texted him or said anything earlier in the day during their classes.

He wanted to reach out to her and hug her, make her feel some compassion instead, but he thought that was too intimate. If there was one thing he was afraid of, it would be making her uncomfortable. Part of the reason he loved her company was that she seemed completely at ease in his presence and he in hers.

“It’s about this war,” she whispered.

“What’s worrying you?”

She shut her eyes, not wanting to look him in the eyes directly. Images of her friends and family lay dead in her mind, and she had to take a deep breath to calm down. “All I can think about is how many people we are going to lose. My brother is one of the strongest students here; no doubt he’s going to get dragged into this fight. Hell, he already has.”

Shinsou nodded, lost in a bit of his own thoughts. Everyone knew how dangerous the league was, how horrible the casualties would be. He tried not to think about it, but how can you not when everyone talks about it? When your teachers are preparing to die and leave you behind? “I know what you mean. Aizawa-sensei is in the same position.”

“It just scares me so much,” Y/N whispered, pressing her face deeper into the pillow, trying to find an ounce of comfort in the softness and the scent. Nothing was helping at this point. “What do I do if I lose Katsuki? What happens if they kill Hawks or Endeavour? What do we do then? Society can’t just expect kids to sacrifice their lives.”

“You just have trust in the ones stronger than you. I know it’s hard, hell, I just want to go out and fight alongside them,” he confessed. “But, I can’t, and you can’t.”

“I just hate it. I feel so fucking worthless, Shinsou,” she cursed, tears pooling at the corners of her eyes, soaking into the pillowcase tear after tear. “All Katsuki has ever done for me is protect me, fight for me; all my life he’s been this way. I hate that I’m not strong enough to help him now when he needs it the most. I'm so worthless.” her words began to shake, and toward the end, she choked down a sob. He watched the whites of her eyes fill with red, irritated from the tears and her squeezing her eyes shut to keep them in.

He lifted his arm, tucking the other under his pillow. Instinctively, she moved forward, pressing her forehead to his chest and curling her arms up in front of her to rest between. He held her to him, resting his chin on the top of her head, buried in her knotted hair. Her cries ran through her entire body, and he held her tighter to his chest in an attempt to ease the tremors. It seemed his instinct to hug was right. She needed this.

Fuck, he needed the embrace too, just to feel someone alive against him.

“Y/N, you’re not worthless. You give your brother hope and motivation just by being with him. He loves you, and wants to live another day so he can see his sister again. You know that,” he said soothingly, although he felt a tickle at the back of his throat, pain lurking up. “Besides, what would I do without you? I need you.”

“No one needs me, Hitoshi. Nobody,” she sobbed. How could she believe that? Both of the boys had saved her life multiple times, yet she had done nothing for them. “I’m just a background character. I’m nothing.”

He tilted his head down, his lips just skimming her hair. “You’re the only friend I have. You’re the first person who made me realize I could be a hero, that I wasn’t just a villain. Do you think that’s nothing? ” he muttered, “To me, you’re the main character. You’re all I care about and the only person I ever want to be with.”

“Hitoshi, you fucking idiot,’ she cried. He felt her hands grab handfuls of his shirt, clenching her fists so tightly her knuckles must have turned white. “Why do you care so much about me?”

He lied.

“It’s because you’re my best friend.”

It’s because I’m falling in love with you.

“I never want to lose you, Hitoshi. Promise me, you won’t leave me, promise,” Y/N begged, practically demanding him to give her that little push of assurance. She needed someone’s words to keep her going, to know it was okay.

“I promise.”

It seemed like, when he was with her, he made more promise than he ever had in his life. Shinsou never believed in making promises because he never really intended on keeping them, so he avoided them. Yet, he wanted to make promises to her. He wanted her to trust him, and find comfort in his word.

In this world, you can’t predict when you’ll die or how long you’ll live, but as long as he could, he would stay with her.

He danced around their friendship. It always felt like he would make a mistake and reveal how he really felt about her. He loved their friendship, cherished it with all his heart. But that didn’t stop him from feeling something much more intense. He didn’t know for sure how he felt, only he was attached. Maybe he was falling for her. It could have been a crush.

All he knew was that those feelings were real.

She lifted her head from his chest, and he pulled back to look down at her. She was puffy in the eyes and her cheeks stained with tears. He lifted his hand, gently bringing his thumb to rub against her cheek, pushing away the salty tears. His hand stayed there, fingers sliding against her skin so softly, almost ghostly.

Goosebumps rose up on her arms at the subtle touch, and her heart beat faster. His hand stopped moving to rest on the side of her face, fingers tucked back by her neck. He was so warm, and she leant into him. Her eyes met his dark violet ones ridden with deep bags from lack of sleep. Still, he was handsome, so perfect in her eyes. His face moved closer to hers, and her eyes flickered down to his lips. Her eyes shut, moving ever so slowly closer to him.

A loud chime rang out from her back pocket. Startled, she jumped away from him, her hand flying to her pocket to grab her phone and shut it up. It was probably just a spam call anyway.

Katsuki.

She sighed, sitting up on the mattress and swinging her legs over the edge. She turned back to the boy, but was unable to make eye contact. He laid there with his forearm resting over his eyes, not looking at her either. “Shinsou...I-I’m sorry but I have to take this. I’ll see you tomorrow in class, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem. I'll see you tomorrow then.”

“See you,” she said quietly as she walked out the door, answering the phone as she did so.

Once the door was closed, he let out a load groan, turning on his side and curling up around one of his pillows. What the fuck was that? Were they about to kiss or was that just his imagination? Why did Bakugo have to call at that very moment? He couldn’t have waited, like, another 10 seconds?

He felt so good, having her pressed against him, to hear her telling him she needs him, to hold her face in his hands. She was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he was sure of it now. Even while she cried, she still looked perfect to him, like an angel came to Earth just for him. Maybe she was an angel after all. No other girl as wonderful as her would take interest in him. She was here to save him, bring him hope and love and make him feel something while he was alive for however long. He always longed to feel anything other than guilt and anger and sadness.

And his angel had brought that to him.

_________________________________

Y/N had gone out to the corner store for some snacks that afternoon instead of training, so he proceeded to sit and study. His quirk wasn’t really the best to practice alone, for obvious reasons. In the courtyard outside, he sat with his heavy books, math problems flashing in his mind.

He was smart, so this kind of thing was never an issue for him. For Y/N, though, they had to work on that. She despised mathematics with a passion to the point where he would have to bribe her just to get her to do her homework. It was sad, but quite humorous for Shinsou.

“Yo, loser.”

He lifted his head at the voice, his eyes trailing up to see Bakugo, slouched over in his messy uniform. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, actually, you can.”

Shinsou prayed that there would be no violence here. But with how her brother was, it could go crazy really fast. It wasn't that he was afraid of Bakugo at all, in fact, Shinsou knew with his quirk he would win a fight. It would just make Y/N upset.

He set down his pencil and moved over on the bench to make room for the blond, who hunkered down beside him. He didn’t take his hands out of his pockets, and didn’t move to make eye contact.

"Well what do you want?"

He shifted, practically itching to walk away. Still he persisted. "Y/N talks about you so fucking much, you know," he finally grumbled. "Shinsou this. Shinsou that. Seriously it's annoying "

Part of the purple haired boy was flattered and frankly excited. She talked about him to her family? He was sure it was all good things of course, but to know that he occupied her mind when he wasn't around? It was amazing.

To be honest, he thought about her more than you normally would with just a friend. Her smile, her laugh, her voice. All of it just ran through his mind all hours of the day.

"Ah, okay."

"Listen, I'm definitely not here to be your friend, fuck that. You're a creepy ass dude." As usual, rude as hell with no filter whatsoever. Typical. "It's just that I feel like I should...ugh, thank you."

"Huh, never thought I'd hear that come from you, Bakugo," Shinsou replied with a smirk.

"Shut it." He paused, leaning back to stare up at the sky. "Y/N hasn't ever really had a friend, not one that was good to her at least. You're the first person to really bring her out of her shell. She's a hard-core introvert, I guess."

"Don't thank me. I'm not doing anything I don't want to."

"I know. It’s just that when I convinced her to come to U.A., she thought she would be all alone, you know, bullied and shit like before. I'm just glad someone's been there for her."

"I really can't see why people would bully her. She's kind and beautiful and smart."

"Yeah, right, I know. People just like to pick on little girls." Bakugo sighed, clenching using fists in his pockets. "I've just gotten so busy recently with everything, I haven't had the time to be her brother. You've watched out for her instead."

"She doesn't even need someone to watch out for her. She's not a baby, she's strong enough to handle herself now," Shinsou replied. "We all have our moment of weakness."

"Y/N told mom about how you got rid of that thug the day I was sick. Can't believe it," he muttered. "Nothing happened, but I swear if you weren't there and something did, I would’ve kicked some major ass. So thanks for that too."

"Like I said, you shouldn't thank me. It's just the right thing to do."

"Yeah, but you aren't just doing it out of the kindness of your heart, Y/N isn't a damn charity.” His face lightened for a moment, the scowl softening into a grimace. "You love her, any dumbass can tell. I'm not sure if she feels the same way, but, shit…I’ve just never seen her happier than when she’s hanging out with you."

Shinsou said nothing. What was there to say? Bakugo was right. He did love her. Maybe for a while he thought it was just a crush, but it wasn't. Sure, if that criminal were harassing anyone else, he would do the same thing for them. Only, he wasn't sure he would turn around from his walk home to make sure they were safe. He wouldn't let just anyone come into his room at any hour of the night for hugs and cuddles, or a shoulder to cry on. That just wasn't him.

So he felt comfortable being confronted with the fact. Because it was real. He really loved her, and he would never deny it.

"I've got a bad feeling, loser. A really bad feeling something is gonna happen to me. You have to be there for Y/N when it does. Swear to me," Bakugo commanded, turning to stare the other boy in the eyes. They weren't friends, it was true. In fact, Shinsou didn't like the guy one bit. But he could feel the pain and hopelessness in his voice, guilt that he might not be there anymore.

And so, he felt himself making another promise for her.

He nodded. "Yeah, I swear. I'd never let anything happen to her."

"Good. Glad to know there's somebody else out here in this shitty world that loves her."

"Me, too."

Part Three is up as well so check that out.

Taglist: @vicisbookishblog @annepamgkrth @smellslikenonsense

#bnha shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou oneshot #shinsou hitoshi #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia #mha imagine #shinsou imagine #bnha imagine #shinsou hitoshi x you #x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #reader insert #mha oneshot

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thedreammweaver · 3 years

Text

Life With Jervis (Gotham New Orleans Hattercrow, domestic fluff, some angst)

Warnings: panic attack mention, brief sexual references

Jonathan rolled his eyes as before he could even get his chores started Jervis was bounding out of the house towards him in just his pjs, a robe, and slippers.

There was a stuffed rabbit swinging from one of his hands. It was early but Jervis’ hyper nature had obviously already set in. Once he got to Jonathan he hugged him tightly. “Jervis, I have to feed everybody.” Jon reminded, referring to the various animals on the property “And it’s cold go, back inside.” Jon himself had four layers on between two sweaters, overalls, and a coat. “I’m not cold, Jonathan dear.” Jervis said wistfully, snuggling into Jon. It didn’t take long for Jon to think of something “But your rabbit doesn’t have any clothes on, they’ll be frigid!” He injected some concern in his usually monotonous speech to raise the stakes.

Jervis pulled away to look at the stuffed rabbit he was holding before gasping “Oh no!” He was soon back in the house, having sprinted inside to warm the rabbit up. Jon smiled softly before getting back to his routine.

Jervis was wrapping his rabbit in a small blanket and setting it in front of the fireplace to warm up when Jonathan suddenly came behind him to pick him up. He squealed in surprise and started squirming. “Jon! You scared me!”

“Oh did I?” Jon purred.

“I forbid you to enjoy it! Put me down!”

“But you’re warm...” Jon hummed nuzzling Jervis’ hair.

“I am not your heating unit, Jonathan Crane.” He said firmly. Despite his protests all of Jervis’ fight disappeared as he gave into Jonathan’s hugging him. Now that he had Jervis settled he figured it was a good time to broach a much dreaded subject “You have to take your medicine now.” At those words Jervis went totally limp in Jon’s arms. “Jervis?” Jon shook him a bit “Jervis, do not play dead. You have to take your meds.” Jervis still didn’t react. Jon rolled his eyes “Uh oh, my arms are giving out looks like I’m gonna drop you.” He let Jervis slip a bit.

“Don’t!” Jervis shrieked.

“Are you ready to take your meds now?” Jon asked smugly.

“You tricked me.” Jervis pouted, squirming out of Jon’s arms to slump onto the floor and lay facedown. Jonathan pulled an oral syringe already filled with the tweaked anti-hallucinogens out of his coat pocket. “Jervis turn over.”

Jervis whined and tried to push Jon away, curling into a ball. Jonathan sighed, it looked like today was going to be a difficult one as far as this was concerned. Jon was tempted to give Jervis a break but the last and only time he did that Jervis was a terror about his meds for the rest of the week. “Jervis, you know if you don’t take this willingly I have to force you which isn’t fun for either of us. I’m warning you right now.” Jervis stayed curled up in a ball. In a clearer state of mind Jervis had given Jonathan permission to force him but Jonathan was already feeling bad for what he had to do as he moved over to climb on top of his boyfriend.

Jon was calmly eating cereal as Jervis stared daggers into him from the living room floor, there were still tear stains on his cheeks. “Come eat, Jervis.”

“I’m mad at you.”

“I know, you still need to eat.”

Jervis reluctantly got up and shuffled into the kitchen to make himself something. Though mornings like this were hard Jon felt satisfied with having gotten Jervis in order for the day.

After spending a few hours in the lab Jon figured he better go check on Jervis, plus Jervis would scold him if he stayed in the basement all day. When he got upstairs Jervis was in the middle of finger painting but had his phone inbetween his head and his shoulder, he signaled to Jon to be quiet as he mouthed the words ‘panic attack’. Jon could hear Ed’s voice coming through the phone sounding rather upset. Jervis was meticulously smearing blue paint on the canvas in front of him while he waited for Ed to stop rambling. “Are you alright to wait until Selina and Harley get home or do you need me to keep talking?” Jervis was now adding greens to the canvas “Alright then, Eddie. Remember, I’m always happy to lend an ear.” Jervis reassured as Ed hung up and Jervis let the phone drop from his shoulder onto the rug he was sitting on. Jon came over to see that Jervis was painting a scarecrow in a field “What was that all about?” Jon asked sitting behind Jervis to run his fingers through his hair.

“Ed was just ups-“

“I mean why didn’t he just call Oswald?”

“If Oswald heard them crying he’d immediately go all the way to the city and that’s not what Ed needs right now. When they call Oswald later they can say they were upset but feel better after talking to me and Oswald won’t be worried enough to hurry over.”

A few moments of silence passed as Jon continued brushing through Jervis’ hair with his fingers and Jervis finished up his painting. Jon cleared his throat “Do you want to have sex tonight?” Jon knew to ask beforehand so Jervis had plenty of time to think about whether he was up for it. Jervis thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Okay, thank you for being honest.” Jon leant down to kiss Jervis on the cheek.

“Can we go have a tea party with the pigs?” Jervis asked.

Jervis was cuddled into Jon’s lap as they watched a film together, it was a horror from the forties suiting both their tastes. It had been nearly twelve hours since Jervis had his meds which meant they were wearing off. Jonathan could tell they’d already started waning as Jervis’ eyes occasionally left the tv and followed things in the room that Jon couldn’t see. He found watching something as Jervis’ hallucinations came back fully eased the transition back into unreality for him. He was dozing on Jon now, curling up more and hiding his face in Jon’s chest.

Jervis bounced excitedly as Jon finished brushing his teeth and came to bed. Jervis was in a fluffy pink nightgown he hadn’t worn before and was waiting for Jon to compliment him. “You look pretty.” Jon said, absently fixing Jervis’ sleep bonnet which was pink to match. Jervis was blushing and hugged Jon tightly “I love you.” Knowing they were about to go to sleep their cat jumped up onto the bed “Cheshire says he loves you too.” Jon wasn’t sure if Jervis was interpreting the movements of the cat, who had previously just been called Cat before Jervis moved in, or talking about one of the characters he was hallucinating. Jon settled on it being both. He wasn’t good at speaking his feelings about love so he just pressed his forehead against Jervis’, and that was enough.

#Jervis tetch #Jonathan crane #hattercrow #gotham New Orleans

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heyheshi · 4 years

Text

"Baby, we're going to have our own family!"

2.9k words

written and uploaded: July 13, 2020

🦋 - fluff

🌙 - angst...?

Please like and reblog! Also please don’t post my writings anywhere!

Also this was supposed to be really short, like just about 700 words but I couldn’t help it!

Masterlist

Part 1

Part 2

_________

"H, are you sure you want to go to the doctors with me?", you asked your husband for the third time in the last 30 minutes.

"Baby stop doing that!", furrowing his eyebrows as he looks at you accusingly - talking about how you're asking him that question again and about your food as you toy it around your plate using your fork.

Earlier after he woke up, Harry made sure that your day starts off as great as possible. He's so giddy. He knows that this day is going to be wonderful. He can just feel it - and so he made sure to wake you up with his kisses and a huge variety of healthy breakfast.

By "huge variety of healthy breakfast", that meant different slices of fresh fruits and organic vegetables, whole-wheat bread, cereals, yogurt, scrambled eggs, bacon (your absolute favorite and he cannot forget to add that), freshly squeezed orange juice, fresh cow milk, and mixed nuts.

He really went all the way with your meal and you're really thankful for that. 2 months ago, you would think that the two of you can't finish all of this food in just one sitting but how wrong could you be? Harry ate a lot but you're kind of having almost the same portion as him, not that he minds, he wants to keep you as healthy as possible for the baby on the way even though you told him that you're not certain about it just yet.

He made sure to talk to the hotel's head chef just to prepare your breakfast and strictly said "just the best and freshest once for my wife and make sure not to add any preservatives, just all-natural", and that's how you got here.

He even insisted on not ordering a coffee for you. You LOVE your morning coffee but H said that it's not good for your heart - which is true. You think he's being kind of dramatic and overprotective but you like it a lot.

It seems like everything he does is way too great; hormones. But it's not like you're gonna admit it to him anyway, it'll boost his ego more, your husband is narcissistic.

"Babe, babeeee, baby??!", you came back into reality. You didn't even notice that Harry has been snapping his fingers in front of your eyes.

"Sorry, just got ca-"

"Too caught up in my handsome looks, huh?", your husband winks at you, he always teases you!

You just rolled your eyes at his antics, "course not!", you said defensively. "Was just thinking! Plus, I wasn't even staring at you!"

"Yeah sure lovie. What's on that pretty little head of yours, hmm?", he leaned his elbows on the table and put his head on his hand.

"Just thinking 'bout how you took my morning coffee away and thinking 'bout what my lunch's gonna be."

"Stop bein' grumpy", he just chuckled at your answer, knowing your sarcasm really well, "just finish your breakfast so we can leave. Already called the clinic for our appointment. It's at 10 a.m., I don't wanna be late.", he just continued eating his part but you're the exact opposite - you froze.

"You what?"

"What? Said finish your food... and that I booked our appointment...?", he asked uncertainty. He's really confused right now and you are too! You're not even sure why you're confused, you just are. Maybe over the fact that H is so excited about this and you might not even be pregnant.

Of course, you're happy with how he's acting. You're just worried that this might just be a false alarm and it will crush him so much.

"Why did you?", you looked down at your plate then quickly stuffing your mouth with the rest of your food while Harry answered.

"Just wanna be the best dad and husband you could ever ask for", he sounds sad, he really thought that you would be happy, you already talked about going to the doctors last night anyways!

"Okay.", you shortly replied and stood up to your seat rounding the table. Harry felt his chest tightening - too much - he thought, until he felt your arms around his neck from behind and tucking your face on his neck. He quickly interlaced your fingers with his.

"I love you", you quietly whispered to his right ear. "You don't know how much this means to me, you're already the best, gunna be the best dad.", you pressed a kiss on his neck. "I just don't want you to get hurt if I'm not pregnant.", your voice seemed to get quieter with each word.

Harry just stood up from his seat and faced you, "whatever happens, we're going to be okay, alright? If we're not pregnant then it's fine, I'm not going to lie and say that I won't be affected by it because I know I will be, but let's always keep in mind that God already has better plans for us, okay?", he leaned in to kiss your forehead.

You just squeezed your face in his shirt, "I'm scared of another heartbreak. I really want this with you.", you said and Harry felt his shirt getting damp.

"Nothing's going to change. I'll still love you more than ever and will always be here to take care of you", he's now whispering while wiping your tears. Everything about this is so intimate. "I love you too, so much Y/N", with that, more tears fall as you kissed him like your life depends on it.

---

"Patient 104, the doctor is ready to see you.", you heard the nurse called your number.

With shaking limbs, you managed to stand up and walk to the doctor's office while Harry assisted you.

"Mister and missus Styles! It's so nice to meet you in person! I'm Doctor Amelia Welsh, just Doc Amy", your doctor looks friendly and it eased you a bit.

"Harry", your husband shook the doctor's hand then slowly turned to you, "and this is my wife, Y/N.", you smiled as you shook her hand.

"Such a lovely couple! Anyway, you called last night, right Harry?", Doctor Amy asked as she sat on her spinning chair while you and Harry take a seat on the opposite side of her table.

"I did, yes. We wanted to have a check-up on my wife", your husband did all the talking, you know he can sense your nervousness.

You're eyes slowly observed the clinic. It almost looked identical to yours, with the office table on the middle and a medical bed on the far left side of the office and a rack full of different medical supplies, the only difference is that your clinic has so many baby pictures and toys for your patients to play around with.

"Okay, so what seems to be the problem? I already got a hold of your medical records, Mrs. Styles, or should I call you Doctor Styles too?", Doctor Amy joked and it made you chuckle a bit.

"I'm a patient right now so I'll just stick with Mrs. Styles", you felt Harry squeezed your hand that he's holding and you smiled to yourself. He always loves it when you claim your self as "Mrs. Styles". He said it makes him all warm and fuzzy and makes him just wanna love on you all day, every day.

"Why don't you tell me what's wrong."

"Ummm okay, so I've been eating a lot - more than usual, it can be because of stress since I'm a stress - eater...", you took a deep breath and look at Harry then back at her, "also I've been feeling nauseated and often having sickness, but in the afternoon not morning so I thought it might be my eyesight."

"Hmm okay please continue", the Doctor continues jotting down on her note pad at a fast pace, you understand it tho, you do the same stuff every day.

"I'm more often bloated than not but this one's different, my abdomen looks bigger than usual..."

"When was the last time you had your period? I know your period is irregular but I still need to know", the doctor pulled her glasses down on the bridge of her nose.

"I think it was November...", you're really not sure, you gave up on tracking your period when it downed to you that your period is never gonna be regular at all.

"Last time you had sexual intercourse?", your face feels hot but you know that these kind of questions are relevant, on your side you can see Harry's ears become reddish.

As if your husband can sense that you're not going to answer that question, he stepped up even though he's shy about it, "last night."

It's not that the two of you are embarrassed about your sex life, it's the opposite actually, you just want to keep it private.

Doctor Welsh just smiled at both of your embarrassment, "well how long had you been feeling this? Did you took a pregnancy test?", she looked back down and continued scribbling.

"Just this January, I never really paid much attention, and I did, a couple of weeks ago, 12 positives and 3 negatives."

"Okay well, why don't we take a look? You can change into this gown and lay in there", she said giving you the gown and pointing at the bed on her clinic, "I'll be back in a few."

You looked at Harry and as if he can hear the voices inside your head, he pulled you into him and kissed your cheek, "we'll be alright", he smiled at you but you can tell that he's really nervous too.

You both are, this is the break it or make it time of your lives. You're not sure if you're ready for it but you shook your thoughts out of your mind and changed into the gown and went to the bed, Harry hot on your heels, quickly took a seat beside the bed and held your right hand.

"I love you", he whispered, he thinks he's as nervous as the first time he auditioned on the X-Factor, when he asked you to become his girlfriend, or when he asked you to become his wife, all combined.

"I love you too", you kissed his knuckles as he smiled at you.

It didn't take long for the doctor to come back.

"Ready?", she asked and you nodded. She set the machine up and made sure you're comfortable before putting the gel on your tummy.

Nobody dared to make a sound and you never dare to look anywhere besides Harry's eyes as he presses his lips on your palm.

"Okay...", you hear the doctor mumbled that made you whip your head up to her.

You looked at the monitor and saw it, there's a heartbeat. You knew what exactly it was but your husband doesn't since he never accompanied someone to an ultrasound appointment before.

And then the silent room heard it, the heartbeat.

"Wa- was that...", Harry slowly looked at you with red eyes.

"Yes", you whispered while nodding your head.

This is it.

"Oh wait", the doctor said suddenly, you froze, this can't be happening! There's nothing wrong with anything! Everything is fine!

You never dared to look at the monitor and Harry too, much too scared of hearing the next words that will come out of the doctor's mouth.

You're finally pregnant and you're going to love your child with everything you have and you just hope there's nothing wrong with your baby.

"What was it?", Harry asked in a croaked voice, still not looking up.

"Well, I'm seeing... not one, but two heartbeats!"

Both of your heads snapped back at the monitor and there you see it! From a different angle are two little heartbeats, two blips, two fetuses, two babies in the future!

You almost felt your heart stop from so much happiness!

"Congrats you're having twins! You're about 8 weeks pregnant!", Doctor Amy rejoiced but you still cannot move, neither can Harry until...

"I- oh my God! Is this real?! Is this really happening?! Oh God Oh God Oh God!", Harry jumped from his seat covering his face with his hands.

"Baby, we're going to have our own family!", H crouched down next to your bed while slowly kissing your nose and that's when it finally sunk in! You're pregnant! And with twins! This is more than you could ever ask for!

You're nodding your head repeatedly with tears running to your cheeks rapidly while Harry tried to catch everything.

"Happy, I'm so so happy, H."

"Me too my love, me too... twins?! I- thank you so much baby, you're so wonderful to me and I-", you didn't let him finish talking as you kissed him, not caring if the doctor is still in the room.

After you pulled away, you only smiled at him and pecked his lips once again. Harry helped you clean up the gel on your tummy and go back to your seat earlier, the doctor is already there typing on her computer.

"Congratulations again! Twins are hefty but I'm sure you can both handle it!", you thanked her and proceeded to talk about the pregnancy.

"I'm assuming you already know what to expect, what to do, and not to do, and what to eat mostly, yes? Hopefully, you didn't consume any alcoholic drinks during the last at least 10 weeks and no birth control at all", Amy asked.

"We do know, yes. And no, I didn't drink, and no, none at all.", you're smiling so big, mirroring H.

"Well then, there's really not much to discuss other than your next ultrasound. You two would be great parents! Do you have any questions?"

"Not for now, I think...", and Harry agrees with you.

"If you do then don't think twice of calling me. I'll print the pictures and have my assistant help you with the next appointment if you need to be transferred to another country then let her know, I'll have her recommend you on my pals", the doctor smiled and almost left the room but...

"Can you make it 5 copies?", H asked suddenly.

The doctor looked back and laughed, "of course, you'll just gonna need to pay extra on your way out", she replied.

"That's won't be a problem, just make it 5 please!", Harry looks and sounds like a child asking for another cookie.

"It's settled!", with that, the doctor finally left the room.

The silence is really comfortable as you change back into your normal clothes.

"H, why 5 copies? We don't need that much!", you laughed as you slowly approached your husband to leave the room.

He only smiled and simply answered, "one for you, one for me, one for your parents, one for mines, then one for their album - I'm getting it enlarged and framed."

You just melted as his answer so you just hugged him tight, “I’m having your baby, and it is your business”, you joked and he laughed, exchanging "I love you's".

---

You're back at the car now, looking at the ultrasound pictures. You can see on your peripheral vision how big Harry is grinning.

He faced you and lifted up your shirt, the car still in the parking lot of the hospital. Thank God you managed to be discreet as possible, not seeing any paps insight.

"Hello bundles!", he greeted your tummy with a kiss.

"See, I know you're both there, daddy can sense it. Can't wait to hold you both and protect you from the world", he looked up at you. "Please don't give mummy a hard time, especially now that there's two of you and daddy's gonna be away a lot, but I promise to be there while you two bake in there as much as possible!", he kissed your tummy once more and pulled down your shirt.

You can't help but grin at him, "bundles? And bake?", you asked your husband while laughing, your shoulders shaking from how many laughs you're producing.

"Bundles, they're two, that's what you call it baby! Like the buy one take one thing on the store, bundles! And bake cause they're a bun in the oven, your tummy's the oven and they're the buns! Bundle buns!", he looks so excited while explaining his shenanigans to you.

You face palmed yourself but can't help but to fall in love with him more, if that's possible.

"Know what baby? Let's just get lunch, yeah?", he only nod but he didn't find your response offensive.

You secretly loved his terms "bundles" and "bake", it makes your heart warm.

"What're you all craving, tell daddy!", you slapped his arms at his double meaning!

You answered either way, "we want pasta, daddy!", then winked at him.

"If pasta is what my babies want then pasta is what we'll get!", his hands found your lap to hold your hand but yours isn't there.

He then looked at you holding your tummy with a fond smile on your face and he joined your hands with his, both of you caressing your babies.

"32 weeks baby, 32 weeks.", you said to H and he smiled at you, looking back on the road.

"I'm already thinking of getting us a customized Gucci family clothes for when they arrive!", H cheekily said to you but you know he's not kidding so you just agreed along with him.

You know you're gonna love this pregnancy already. Not only you got one, but two babies! You're more blessed than ever! Plus, you're sure that Harry's going to be giving you everything you crave for! Midnight ice cream sessions, here we come!

_____

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