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#but when i try to branch out and grow and leave my mom always reminds me that its not realistic
poorlittlevampire · 9 months
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also i talked with my grandma abt college and she was so encouraging and excited about it so idc anymore its something i want to pursue ill put everything in my name regarding loans ill take on all the debt idc but its something i want to do ill just figure it out
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kath-artic · 18 days
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aforementioned talking
was sitting in the shower thinking of things I'd like to say to him and its so funny the way I've become obsessed with the concept of cohesion. like I really read one essay on coherentism like 4 years ago and said "yeah kinda if you account for the fact that moral imperfection is not necessarily evil and also if you account for the fact that most contradictions can be solved by taking a step back because even the most opposing points branch out from the same source." like I was reeeaaallly explaining myself in my head there just to make sure my logic was airtight for no damn reason. anyway one thing I thought was silly (and its something I've realized before but its a realization that kinda faded from the forefront of my mind) was that I started thinking about how to explain that I try not to concern myself with outcomes and that lead me to the example of the situation with my friend wherein I haven't "decided" if I want to still be her friend in the future because my concern in the present is having space away from her--why close a door that may better serve me open and why ask someone in when they may be better off outside and why concern yourself with doing either when there's no one at the door to worry about--and to determine an absolute outcome is to limit myself and then I thought "what if he says 'oh I would've cut her off'" and I thought I'd explain my whole thing about avoiding cruelty because cruelty is the first seed that turned me from being in touch with myself as a woman on account of my not-so-good relationship with my mom growing up and THEN I started giving examples in my head and started reflecting on when I was little and she'd ask what I wanted for dinner and I'd accidentally pick something expensive (I was a kid w no idea how much things cost) and she'd get mad and start yelling at me and then I'd say "I'm sorry I didn't know, I'm fine with anything we can afford" and she'd still get the expensive thing to prove a point. Anyway this final bit is the point I was getting to because its been a while since I've reflected on this memory and like. 1) its why I struggle so much whenever people ask me what I want to eat and they're paying because I'm hyper conscious of the fact that I'm putting them out and I have no concept of how much is too much (like whenever people ask what I want to eat I almost always ask some vague question like "what are the parameters" because I never feel like I have enough information to make an informed choice) 2) its part of why I cant understand what my friend was expecting of me. because whenever I tell someone "no its okay" and they STILL do the thing I initially wanted it feels like a guilt tactic. so why would I read into subtext and not do something I was given permission to do when all my life that has been a tactic used to make me feel horrible.
anyway lol that one other memory is starting to finally fade again I think. it just pisses me off in so many ways that it was ever back to begin with. like she's not really To Blame for it being on my mind, but that situation is what triggered it. like 1) having that one incident where I went catatonic because she brought up the topic my first ex would threaten me with whenever he was raping me at knife point like 9 times in one week compared to her getting upset over something I DIDNT DO because it reminded her of when she was lonely on her birthday in middle school kinda pissed me off 2) if comparing traumas is the name of the game then how's 'having your best friend's abusive boyfriend get into a whole public fight with her over the fact that she's coming to your birthday so she has to leave early and then your first boyfriend sexually assaults you once she's gone' for bad birthdays 3) her telling me that I will never experience the kind of connection I've dedicated my life to finding in her last message just to hurt me 4) the only other time I've ever felt the kind of betrayal she made me feel (and obviously it was on a far greater scale in this latter case) was when I realized what my first ex had been doing to me. all 4 of these things have just been making me so anxious again and I make such a point of not letting the fact that I was raped instill distrust in me. I still believe people to be fundamentally good. but its been hard recently and that's what hurts me even more. I trust the guy I'm seeing. I trust him so much and I want to let myself be close to him, but it's been hard to talk because now there's this specter of cruelty looming over me. I don't want it to affect my ability to speak anymore. I don't want to be haunted by the ghosts of things that cant hurt me anymore
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the hardest person to be kind to is myself
finding my flaws, an inherent skill
passed down carefully from generation to generation
Everyone told me I looked just like mom
But mom pokes and prods at herself in the mirror every morning
the hardest person to be grateful for
is myself
she is always giving me a look of doubt
something in her knows
far too much about pain and brutality,
about what it takes to be soft,
what horrors a person must endure to be gentle
something inside of her heart
is too broken to be beautiful anymore
the hardest to person to hold close
is me
she writhes herself out of my arms every time
when she finally breaks her way free from my hold
she turns to me, sitting like a child with open palms on the floor and face turned up to mine
and she begins to cry
she says "you squeezed me so hard i almost cracked"
And she was right.
I was, I have been.
Squeezing her, holding her so tightly that shes gasping for breath most days.
I try to apologize but she's heard this before,
I've become my own enemy.
She asks me why I don't feed her.
Food, knowledge, love.
I cant bare to tell her what I see when I see her.
She doesn't see herself like I do
She sees herself smile lines from years of joy
Wearing a badge of honor
She sees her stretch marks ripple across her abdomen and the small hands that came from them
An honor to her body preforming miracles
And I see them mangled body, skin folding and lapping itself
I see a body that just doesn't know when to quit
Or When to throw the white flag
Blasting through a war waged on itself
I see a body that keeps going and going and never puts up a wall
Even when it really should and
I see a body that is constantly praying to someone that they don't even believe to be listening
This version of me knows too much
This version isnt granted the grace of naïveté
I know too well how the dog feels, watching his owners leave, the only people he's ever known, and the metal dog crate locking in front of his eyes
I know what his cries, that will echo in the night and bounce off the cold concrete walls, sound like.
As he cries with all his might, the noise drowns itself into the lake of all the others rising in unison, I can feel his deep inhales in time with mine.
I know what the glass feels as it falls to the floor
Always knowing it was delicate, needing two careful hands to pass it back and forth
And yet, still ceaselessly craving to be filled.
Knowing now, as it sees the tile inching closer,
That to be left untouched was to be eternally whole.
I know what the fawn feels, watching her mother be taken down
And the shuffle of leaves in the shadows reminds her
To jump in the high grass, to watch the sun catch the branches through the canopy above,
To be gentle, to be small, to be lovely is to be prey,
I know how she feels when she lies against her mothers chest as it grows colder and the shuffles in the leaves grow louder,
I know how the leaves will scream at her to run
To do what mother would want
I know how she will feel when she doesn't leave
And they find her, covered in blood and dissapointment
maybe they let her go,
it won't change her fate either way
smh
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omgjasminesimone · 3 years
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The Moments in Between
Dakota x MC
Word Count: ~3,800
A/N: Accompanies my fic Life Goes On, set in the missing ten years.
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High School Graduation
Dakota tears his eyes away from the view outside his hospital window when he hears the distinctive sound of Sage’s favorite high heels approaching his door.
He smiles when he gets his first glimpse of her in her graduation regalia. “Wow Teach, you look great. Congratulations, graduate.” This is also his first time seeing her new hair extensions. Now that his hair is starting to grow back, Sage is back to her usual hairstyle.
Sage smiles, bounding her way over to his bed and tucking herself under his arm. “Congratulations to you too, Dakota. I have your diploma.” She reaches for her bag that she’s dropped on the floor, pulling out his framed diploma and handing it over reverently.
“Can’t believe I’m a high school graduate now.” Dakota reveals, reading the diploma closely. He assumes had he been well enough to attend the graduation ceremony, it would have felt more real.
“There are very few people who could complete all their senior year assignments and exams while fighting cancer. I’m so proud of you Dakota.” Sage praises, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“I’m proud of you. It’s incredible how you managed school and my cancer.” Dakota insists.
Sage shrugs, nuzzling into his neck. “It was no biggie. I had a very cozy seat on the sideline.” She quips.
Dakota frowns, tearing his eyes away from his diploma to look at his girlfriend. “You know I didn’t mean that. I would never have gotten through this without you, Sage.”
Sage smiles, placing a sweet peck to his lips. “I know. I just like to bring that up every so often so you’ll tell me how much you love me.”
Dakota chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “I love you a lot, Sage.”
“I love you too Dakota.” She gives him another kiss, gently taking his diploma from him to place on the side table. “I missed you today. I’m sorry you had to miss your graduation.” Sage laments.
“I was hoping to be out of here by today, but it’s okay. The transplant almost failing really put things in perspective. I’m just grateful to be alive. Universe willing, hopefully I’ll get to attend college graduation.”
“You will. I know it. You’re a fighter Dakota.”
“You give me something to fight for, Teach.”
...
Discharged
Dakota can’t miss the arrival of his friends and girlfriend as they loudly come down the Edenbrook hallway, arguing the whole way.
“I can’t believe you like Alec. God, he’s the absolute worst. I can’t wait for him to get voted off Survivor.” Lennox insists.
“I love Alec! And I don’t think he’s a suck up, he’s just friendly.” Mateo insists.
“No, the friendly thing is totally an act Mateo. But I do respect Alec’s game. The point is to outwit and outplay.” Sage counters as the group enters Dakota’s room.
Sage’s whole face lights up when she spots Dakota, in his normal clothes instead of a hospital gown. She practically flies across the room, launching herself into his arms. “Happy discharge day!” She exclaims.
Dakota laughs, hugging her back tightly and giving her a quick kiss. Even though he purposely kept it chaste, Lennox pretends to gag anyway. “Thanks for coming guys. But Teach, don’t you have midterms?”
“Like we’d miss this! Dakota Winchester, finally getting out of Edenbrook. It’s like my baby bird finally leaving the nest.” Mateo teases.
Sage nods in agreement with Mateo. “Nothing could have kept me from being here today. And my professors were all very understanding. They’re letting me take make up exams this weekend.”
“You guys are the best.” Dakota insists, turning back to the bag he was packing before his friends arrived.
“Where are your parents?” Lennox asks, taking a seat on Dakota’s bed.
“Dropping off gift baskets for all the doctors who kept me alive. They really went all out on the one for your mom, Sage. Almost like it’s a...dowry or something.” Dakota reveals.
“Your parents must know that I’d happily marry their Kody, no dowry needed.” Sage quips.
“Aww.” Mateo says at the same time Lennox gripes “Ugh.”
“Good to know.” Dakota returns, winking at Sage. He zips up his bag, and looks around the room. “I think that’s everything.”
Sage slips her hand into his. “Ready to get out of here?”
Dakota squeezes her hand. “Very ready.”
A group of hospital staff are waiting just outside his room to wish him farewell.
“Do I get to ring the discharge bell?” Dakota asks his oncologist after saying his goodbyes.
“That’s usually just a thing for the kids, Dakota.” The doctor informs him.
“What?! But I was really looking forward to it! Plus, you know I’m a child at heart.” Dakota counters.
“....fine.” The oncologist gives in easily.
Dakota grins widely, squeezing Sage’s hand in excitement.
“I think I’ve got a new nickname for you, man child.” Lennox suggests.
“Nothing you say can ruin this for me, Len.” Dakota retorts as he happily makes his way over to the bell. He hands Sage his phone. “Can you record this for me, beautiful?”
Sage nods, stepping back to get him in frame. “Say, cancer free!” Sage chimes.
“Cancer free!” Dakota parrots, vigorously ringing the discharge bell.
...
College Visits
“And this is the quad! My favorite spot on campus.” Sage informs him, leading him by the hand through the Massachusetts State campus.
Dakota is recording on his phone, like always, so Sage does a little twirl for him under a cherry blossom tree. “Beautiful.” Dakota says, and Sage can’t be sure if he means the campus, or herself.
He’s trying to hide that he’s a little out of breath, but Sage can read him like a book. “I’ve made you walk too much. Here, let’s take a seat. How are you feeling?” Sage asks as she leads Dakota over to a bench.
She looks guilty, so he gives her his most reassuring smile. “I’m fine, Teach. I’ve been feeling good, and all my lab results have been good lately. My doctors think I should be able to start college in the Fall, as planned.” He’s cautiously optimistic that he won’t relapse. He’s still a little tired, and weak, but not like before he got the news his Cancer was back. Once he’s done with his 3-4 times a week outpatient visits to Edenbrook, it will be like he’s a normal young adult again. 
Sage nods, swinging her legs over his lap as she rests her head on his shoulder. “That’s so good to hear, I know how excited you are for film school. Although I’m really going to miss you when you’re further than a car ride away. But, on the bright side, I can come out to visit you in LA when the Boston weather gets completely miserable.”
“Actually Sage, I’ve been thinking about it. And moving all the way across the country from my support system and my doctors might not be the best plan right now.”
Sage frowns, looking up at him. “But your dream school is in LA.”
“You’re my dream Sage. And there are plenty of great film schools in New York. And New York is just a 4 hour bus ride away.”
“And you’re sure that’s what you want?” Sage asks, trying not to give away just how much she would love to have him closer for the next 4 years.
“Cross my heart.” Dakota lets out a little ‘hmph’ when Sage hugs him so tightly he can barely breathe. She immediately loosens her excited hold.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I love you Sage.”
“I love you too.” She seals her words with a passionate kiss, that leaves him more out of breath than all that walking earlier.
But it’s worth it.
...
New York City
Sage enters their small studio apartment, located in one of the seedier parts of Brooklyn since that’s all they can afford on her salary, with a loud sigh. “I hate my boss.” She complains to Dakota.
He turns away from whatever he’s editing to look at her. “Another bad day?”
Sage nods miserably, and Dakota pats his lap. Sage crosses the small room in just a few steps, parking herself sideways on her boyfriend’s lap. She makes herself cozy, loosely wrapping her arms around his waist. She glances at the computer screen as he drops a kiss to the top of her head. “Is this your final project you refuse to show me?”
Still images of Edenbrook flood the editing software. “Yeah. I filmed a lot when I was sick. When Mateo was sick. To keep myself busy. Some of the clips were really compelling. So now, my final project is a documentary about Edenbrook.”
“You’re branching out from ghost movies?” Dakota’s previous school projects have all been horror films.
“In a way, it’s still a ghost movie. Gracie is heavily featured, and other friends I lost.” Dakota reveals.
“Will you play me a Gracie clip?” Sage asks tentatively, not sure she can even handle it.
Dakota drags his mouse back until Gracie’s face fills the screen, pressing play.
Dakota ends up letting her watch the entire 40 minute film. Tears are welling in Sage’s eyes by the end. “That was absolutely beautiful Dakota. Sad, but definitely compelling.”
“Thanks. It felt good to make it. Cathartic.” Dakota reveals.
Sage’s eyes skim through the open ‘Edenbrook’ folder on his computer, stopping on a sub folder labeled ‘goodbyes’. “What are those?” Sage wonders aloud.
Dakota looks where’s she pointing, flushing a little. “Oh, those. After the transplant, when I wasn’t feeling the greatest, I recorded goodbye videos for the people I care about most. To send out, you know, if I was gone.”
Sage turns to face him. “Can I watch mine?”
“Sure, if you want to.” Dakota pulls it up, and then attempts to slide Sage off his lap so he can get up. But she shakes her head.
“I’m only going to be able to watch this right here in your arms.” She insists.
Dakota leans back into the office chair, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Okay.” He presses play.
Sage starts crying almost immediately. Dakota plants soft kisses across her shoulder as she watches, to remind her that he’s here. That he’s fine, and cancer free for almost 4 years now.
Tears are streaming down her face by the end, and she turns around in his lap to press her face into his chest. “Hey, hey, don’t cry Teach.” Dakota pleads, gripping her chin gently and using his thumb to brush tears away from her lash line.
“I can’t believe I almost lost you. I can’t imagine doing life without you Dakota. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, Sage. More than you could ever know.” This wasn’t how he was planning to do this, but as he stares into her beautiful, watery eyes, he feels like now is the perfect time. “Want to watch something happy now?”
Sage laughs, wiping at her eyes as she nods. This time, she allows him to slide her off his lap, and he goes to his backpack to pull out a flash drive that he plugs into the computer. When the folder opens, he clicks the video named ‘For Sage’ and presses play.
Sage smiles as the first image comes up, the clip Dakota filmed of her at their high school when they first met. The video continues with clips from the carnival, from hospital dates, from post hospital dates, in Boston, in LA, in New York. There are many clips of her she was unaware he was even filming, doing mundane things no one else would even think to film. It’s all weaved together so beautifully, it tells a story. Their story.
The soundtrack and clips stop suddenly, and cuts to Dakota on the Brooklyn bridge. “Lennox, you’re filming vertically!” On screen Dakota complains, prompting a chuckle from Sage as she watches.
“Don’t forget I’m doing you a favor, man child.” Lennox retorts, but then she repositions the camera horizontally like Dakota wanted.
“Thank you.” On screen Dakota adds. He clears his throat, looking sincerely into the camera. “Sage Woods, I’ve been hopelessly in love with you from the day we met. You’ve stood by me through lows and highs, mostly lows though because you’re an angel, and everyday I’m reminded how lucky I am to be able to call you my girlfriend. But, I’d be even luckier to be able to call you my wife.”
“That’s so cheesy.” Lennox complains from behind the camera.
“Len, come on. I’m gonna have to edit all this out!” Dakota complains on screen before dropping to one knee.
That’s where the video ends, and when Sage quickly turns her wide eyes to Dakota beside her, he’s on one knee with a diamond ring. “I hadn’t gotten around to editing the Brooklyn Bridge footage yet, but-“
“Yes!” Sage exclaims, dropping to her knees beside him and capturing his lips in a fierce kiss.
“I didn’t.... get to ....finish asking.” Dakota murmurs between greedy kisses.
“The answer is still yes.” Sage beams at him when he places the diamond ring on her finger.
God damn, he’s so lucky. 
...
College Graduation
As Dakota sits at graduation waiting for his name to be called, he’s starting to realize missing high school graduation might have been a blessing in disguise. He’s never been so bored.
But when they finally get to the W’s, and the film school Dean calls out ‘Dakota Winchester!’, his parents, Mateo, Lennox, and his stunning fiancé let out the loudest cheers of the entire afternoon, which makes the ceremony endlessly more entertaining.
...
Wedding
“Kody, if you keep drumming your fingers like that, you’re going to put a dent in my table.” His mother playfully complains.
Dakota stops the incessant drumming. “Sorry, I’m just...missing her more than I thought I would.” He admits.
His dad smiles, shaking his head fondly. “It was your bright idea to spend the night before the wedding apart.” He reminds him.
“It’s bad luck for me to see Sage before the wedding!” Dakota insists, to make himself feel less foolish about sleeping alone in his childhood bed tonight.
“Why don’t you call her?” His mother suggests.
“We said we wouldn’t. Hearing her voice would just make me want to drive over to her mom’s house and see her more.” Dakota reveals.
“Well Kody, it’s just 17 more hours until the wedding. After that full month of no contact in the ICU, I think you guys can do it.” His dad adds.
That reminder of the worst month of his life does make Dakota think he can get through just 17 more hours. He nods resolutely as he stares down at the table, internally giving himself a pep talk to avoid reaching for his phone.
 When he finally looks up again, both of his parents have the goofiest grins on. “What?” Dakota asks warily.
His parents share a look before turning back to him. “We’re just...so happy for you Kody. When the doctors told us you wouldn’t make it past 9, we could only think about all the things you wouldn’t get to do. We thought you’d never go to high school, never graduate from college, never have a job, never get married.....” his mom trails off, tears falling down her face.
“Mom, don’t cry.” Dakota pleads, leaning across the table so he can take her hands in his.
“They’re happy tears, Kody. It’s just been such a privilege to get to watch you grow into such a fine young man.” She concludes, standing from the table so she can hug him. His dad gets in on the action too, engulfing both in a warm group hug.
“The three of us are so proud of you Kody.” His dad adds, ruffling his hair affectionately.
“....thanks guys.” Dakota eventually settles on, unable to truly express how grateful he is.
The hours crawl by until it’s finally his wedding day. He’s more nervous than he expected he’d be as he stands at the altar.
“Psst...man child. You’ve got to calm down before you sweat stain your pits.” Lennox whispers from just behind him.
“And this is why Dakota made me the best man instead of you, Len.” Mateo taunts. He places a reassuring hand on Dakota’s shoulder. “No need to be nervous, Dakota. I’m pretty sure Sage wouldn’t leave you at the altar.”
As if in reaction to Mateo’s words, the wedding march starts.
Sage turns the corner, being walked down the aisle by her mother, and Dakota stops breathing for several moments.
She’s so beautiful, and he can’t believe his luck that in a few short moments, he can call her his wife. She smiles at him through her veil, and he smiles back through watery eyes.
...
Video Message
Dakota fiddles with the self timer on his phone, making sure to get Sage, and the London Bridge behind her, focused and in frame. Once he’s satisfied, he leaves the phone where it’s propped up against a building and makes his way over to Sage, wrapping an arm around her waist.
She grins up at him. “Ready?”
“Very ready.” He assures, giving her a little squeeze.
Sage turns back to the camera. “Hi guys! We really wanted to do this in person, but since there’s 4 months left on my London project, we thought video message was the next best thing.”
She turns to her husband. “You can say it.” She informs him with a warm grin.
“Sage is pregnant.” Dakota says into the camera, his smile so big it kind of hurts his cheeks a little.
“We’re pregnant!” Sage chimes, pressing a quick kiss to the side of Dakota’s upturned lips. “It’s still really early so we probably shouldn’t even be saying anything yet-“
“6 weeks.” Dakota interjects.
“But I just really couldn’t keep this news from the people we love most. We don’t know if it’s a boy or girl yet, maybe we can do a zoom gender reveal or something, but either way the baby’s name is going to be Dakota.” Sage explains.
Dakota smiles, dropping a kiss to her forehead. “I love you.” He whispers, low enough so the camera can’t pick it up.
“I love you too.” Sage returns, eyes shining with merriment.
Dakota looks back into the camera. “Alright, so that’s our big news. Can’t wait to see everyone when we’re back in the States. We love you guys.” After Dakota concludes, he makes his way over to the camera, turning it off.
“Are you sending it?” Sage asks, resting her head on his shoulder.
“Just editing out some of the dead space at the beginning and the end first. And maybe adding some underlying music.”
Sage shakes her head, albeit fondly. “Do you ever stop working?” She teases.
“Doesn’t feel like work when you love it.” Dakota insists. “And now....done! Sending it off now.”
Dakota wraps his arms around Sage as she leans back into his embrace. They both gaze out at the London landscape.
It can’t be more than three minutes before Sage’s phone rings. She grins at Dakota. “It’s your parents. Oh, and my mom too on the other line. Let me see if I can do a 3 way call....”
While Sage is fiddling with that, Dakota’s phone starts ringing. He glances at the contact info. “And that’s Len and Mateo.” He informs Sage before answering. “Hey guys.”
He smiles as he’s bombarded with congratulations. He looks towards his wife, who’s gesturing excitedly as she talks to their parents. He reaches for her hand, pulling her into his arms.
He can’t believe how lucky he is.
...
Heart to Heart
“Why are you filming this?” Sage complains, trying to cover her makeup less face. She feels like death, and assumes she must look it too.
“In case I ever need footage of a beautiful woman growing another human being.” Dakota quips, continuing to zoom in on her belly.
“This footage would be more appropriate for a horror movie about a woman having her skin stretched grotesquely.” Sage counters.
Dakota frowns, lifting her shirt to expose her belly and the many new stretch marks marring her skin. “There’s nothing grotesque about any of this, Teach. You’re beautiful, and miraculous.” He insists, planting kisses all over her skin.
“And you’re sweet, but also a liar.” Sage replies, running her fingers through his hair as he starts to murmur sweet nothings to their son.
“I’m gonna miss this belly when baby Dakota shows up in the next few days.” Dakota insists.
“Well, that makes one of us.” Sage retorts.
“You say that now, but once you hold him? See his adorable little face? You’re gonna want another one immediately.” Dakota theorizes.
“Doubt it. I think Dakota here is gonna be an only child. I never want to be pregnant again.” Sage insists.
“He has to have siblings.” Dakota counters.
“Why? We’re both only children. We turned out okay.” Sage defends.
“What if he needs a kidney? Or a bone marrow transplant?” Dakota asks softly, gently rubbing Sage’s belly.
Sage rises up on her elbows so she can look down at her husband. “Babe, are you worried about the baby getting sick?”
“Isn’t that something all parents worry about?”
“Not to the point of planning future spare part babies.” Sage argues.
“That’s not fair.” Dakota counters.
“And it’s not fair what you had to go through as a child, Dakota. And it’s obviously something that’s gonna stay with you. But leukemia isn’t hereditary, babe. You don’t need to worry about passing on defective genes to our baby.” Sage attempts to comfort.
“You don’t know that.” Dakota laments. “I could have more defective genes than just leukemia.”
Sage struggles to force herself into a seated position, and noticing her struggle, Dakota helps her get herself upright.
She slips her hand into his, weaving their fingers together. “Dakota, there’s nothing wrong with this baby-“
“You can’t know-“ Dakota starts to interject, but Sage raises a hand to silence him.
“And if there is something wrong with this baby, that’s something we’ll get through, together.” She squeezes his fingers comfortingly. “Okay?”
“Okay.” He reluctantly agrees after a beat. But then he quickly adds. “But I still want more than one child.”
“We can talk about that after I get this baby out of me.” Sage tries to cut off that subject. 
“Hmm...that sounds like a polite no. But I’m not done with this subject. The world needs more Sage Woods-Winchester in it. At least 3 mini yous.” Dakota insists, his smile growing when Sage can’t help but chuckle. 
“That’s easy for you to say, from your comfy seat on the sideline.” Sage teases. 
Dakota raises a hand to his heart, mock wounded. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”
“Probably not.”
“....Guess I should have died of Cancer when I had the chance.”
“.....That’s not funny Dakota.”
“...It’s a little funny.” Dakota insists, and then he leans forward to kiss Sage’s downturned lips until she’s smiling again.
...
..
A/N: Still wasn’t over With Every Heartbeat, so I had to write this out too. Now I feel better. :)
tags: @shewillreadyou @dakotasteach
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bebepac · 3 years
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Pop’s 🌎 World
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This is a very special Mia’s 🌎 World. It’s kind of a stand alone, as you could have not read the previous series and know what’s going on here.  It’s about a father’s love for his daughter.  But if you are curious to go on a binge read:
Book One:  Pop’s Place
Book Two: Mia’s World
I’m also participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompt # 91 picked by  @ofpixelsandscribbles​ “I’m worried about you.” which will appear in bold. 
Original Post Date: 04/20/21 at 7:03PM EST.
The Book:  TRR (this is typically a crossover, but none of the crossover characters appear in this chapter) 
Pairing:  Mia x Jaiden  (TRR MC x M!OC)
Word Count: 1976
Warnings: Pops laying on all kinds of Daddy Fluff.  Brief mention of pregnancy complications, with no specific or graphic detail. 
Summary:  A glimpse into the past, present and future of Pops. We will be getting to know, the softer side of Pops Jones.
A/N: Writing is truly one of the ways that I have dealt with a lot of unsettling feelings I’ve had over the years, and this one is very cathartic for me.  I never had the best home life growing up.  Pops is the personification of the father figure I wish that I had growing up in those more formative years.  He does remind me a bit of my Grandfather, but he passed away when I was young.  So I write my Mia having the strong base that I wish I had.  And maybe some things would have turned out differently.  
A/N2:  I don’t own the rights to the poem “I Trust You’ll Treat Her Well”  by Dan Valentine which the words will be bold and italic throughout this episode.  I did modify a few words to make it representative to Mia and her family, as Mia does not have blue eyes and light brown hair.   
Song Inspiration for this Episode:  I Loved Her First by Heartland
I don’t own the rights to the music.  
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Jaiden and Mia were staring at each other in awe as if they were in their own little private universe.
Tears welled in Pop's eyes as he watched Mia.
Pops never thought he was super sensitive until that moment. But seeing Mia, his baby girl, slow dance with Jaiden in her wedding dress, tore his heart to pieces, in a good way. Together Gloria and Pops had raised a beautiful, intelligent, strong young woman, who had found the love of her life.
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Their very first dance together as husband and wife was breathtaking, and the newly married couple had nothing but smiles and a few tears for each other, and whispered sweet nothings in each other's ears.
Maybe not so sweet.... as whatever Mia had whispered caused Jaiden's cheeks and ears to flush a rosy pink, as he gently tugged at his collar a bit. 🍋🍋
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"She picked a good one, Pops. He'll take care of her. He always has." Gloria whispered in Pops ear.
"I know. It doesn't make it easier. I loved her first."
Pops stood before them with a smile. Since they were done with the formal pictures, Pop's tie was completely gone, and the first few buttons of his dress shirt were unbuttoned. Pops was a simple man. But his feelings about that day were anything but simplistic. Pop's soul was a storm of emotions inside his heart: happy, melancholic, and bittersweet, because not only had he given his daughter away to be married, but he was also gaining a son, whom he loved dearly.
His eyes met with Mia's from across the room. She smiled at him, but as he refocused on her, he saw the little girl that loved to play dress up in Mommy's clothes and makeup.
Clearing his throat, Pops began to recite the poem that he picked for today. His confident voice was already shaking as he gazed across the room at his little MJ, his eyes already beginning to tear up.
"Dear World,
I bequeath to you today one little girl… in a crispy dress...with two brown eyes… and a happy  laugh that ripples all day long...and a flash of black hair that bounces in the sun  when she runs. I trust you'll treat her well."
He never knew the person who would completely change his whole entire world, his heart  was a little bouncing baby girl that weighed seven pounds and twelve ounces when she was born.
When he found out Gloria was pregnant, Kelvin wanted a boy. That's all he thought about. Someone to play ball with, and fish with. He got the shock of his life when he heard those three words. It's a girl.
Mia was born a week before Christmas.  Gloria went into labor while they were at a Christmas party neither one wanted to attend. Labor was a fitting excuse for the pair to leave early. The one time in Mia’s life she showed up early to benefit her parents. 
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Gloria’s due date was Christmas Day.
When he first saw Mia's big brown inquisitive eyes, he knew she would be special. And Mia was, and she was the light of his world.
Mia’s first word was Pop.  The reason everyone called Kelvin “Pops”  was because of Mia.  When Mia started talking she said it repeatedly.  And it stuck with EVERYONE!
Mia was definitely a Daddy’s girl. 
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Mia took her very first steps following behind Pops. He had walked into the kitchen to make Mia a snack, when he glanced up from the counter seeing her toddling towards him.
"Pops!" Mia exclaimed enthusiastically as she took her slow and deliberate steps towards him.
Pops immediately knelt, opening his arms smiling brightly at her.
"Come to Pop Pops."
Mia made it to his arms. He picked her up and spun her around planting kisses, and raspberries on her cheeks and tummy.
He wanted his little MJ to stop growing.  
Even though he loved Mia dearly, Pops thought about the possibility of them having another child.  He thought then having one of each would be perfect.
But sadly the lightning never struck again for them.  
Gloria sat on the side of the bed in tears.  
“We weren’t even trying when we got Mia, and now that we are…. Why isn’t it happening?”
“I don’t know.  Maybe we just got it perfect on the first try, my beautiful Morning Glory.”
“I know you want a boy Pops.”  
“I wanted our child Gloria.  Mia is our baby.   I wouldn’t trade a thousand little boys for our Mia.”
He wiped Gloria’s tears.
“I’m worried about you.”  
“I feel like I'm failing you.”
“You’re not, you gave me Mia.  She’s more than we could have ever asked for.”  
Mia had asked several times for a baby brother or sister.  Until a sweet family with a little dark haired boy moved next door.  
Daniel and Mia were inseparable.  
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“Prim and proud she’ll wave her young and independent hand this morning and say “Good bye” and walk with little lady steps into the school house.”
It was  Pops that cried the first day of school when he waited with her at the bus stop.  They had always had a very special close relationship.
“For five full years now I’ve been her sage and Santa Claus and pal and playmate and father and friend...”
Mia had her “Mommy time” with Gloria but as Mia aged, she liked to fish with Pops.  She enjoyed being in the kitchen with him.   At age ten Mia called out her first order to Pops that day taking the first step of creating ‘their special language' they talked to each other to this very day in the kitchen. Mia sat at the table with her book watching the waitress in front of her, listening closely to the order.
She called out the order to Pops loud and proud.
Pops glanced down at the order that Ginny handed him, as Mia recited in her own language what the customers wanted.  He smiled at her, it made sense to her, and to him.  
“I’m on it, MJ!” His voice boisterous.  Little Mia learned the menu and started calling out all the orders to Pops. 
His mind drifted to Kyle.  Mia’s first serious boyfriend.  The one he had basically thought he was so proud of Mia for finding.  Kyle appeared to have it all.  He came from a good family, and he appeared like he loved Mia.  
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Pops mentally took off his rose colored glasses and looked at his daughter’s relationship with him.  
Pops saw all the warning signs he had been oblivious to the first time around.  The sadness in his daughter’s eyes, she was trying to hide.  The crash dieting.  Mia wasn’t insecure before, but he now saw all the hints of it.  And he had been afraid to ask. Why did he not ask her what was wrong? When he had such a good relationship with his MJ.
“Today she’ll learn for the first time not all who smile at her are her friends….”
Mia found the courage in herself to end that relationship.
And with the ending of that relationship ended another one.  Daniel’s father was transferred to North Carolina.   Mia was devastated with her friend moving away.  But, it was very short lived, as Daniel’s father Jonathan let Pops know of a restaurant that was for sale in their area, that would give Pops the chance to branch out completely on his own and have his very own place.  
Pops took a chance and packed up his family and moved to North Carolina and bought that little restaurant that the community now fondly known as Pop’s Place. 
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He remembered the first time he saw Mia interact with Jaiden.  The two were very friendly with each other talking and laughing.   Jason Brooks elbowed him.  
“There is something special blooming between those two.”
Pops laughed looking at the two of them again.
“I doubt it seriously.”  
Mia’s dance card was full, between Drake Walker, but Pops had his money on Liam Rys walking away with Mia’s heart.
“Twenty bucks says they’ll be dating before the end of summer.”  
“You’re on Brooks.”  
Pops lost that bet.  
Watching the love blossom between his daughter and Jaiden made him feel young again.  The love and the heartache.  
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The sweet little gestures of love and understanding.
*^*^*^*^*^*^* Fast Forward a year after the wedding *^*^*^*^*^*
"I think I finally got it right now. Hi MJ, hey Jaiden. Can you all hear me now?”
"We can hear you now fine Hey Pops, where's Mom?"
"I'm here, I had to take dinner out of the oven."
They talked for a few minutes.
"MJ you look like the cat that ate the canary. What's going on?"
"So we didn't agree on how to do this.  We both wanted to tell you face to face but we didn't want to wait until Thanksgiving."
She looked at Jaiden.  He smiled nodding.
"Mom, Pops…..”
Pops saw the tears in Mia's eyes.
"What's wrong?"
She held up a single picture.
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Both her parents screamed in joy.  
“It’s a boy!!!”  
“We wanted to tell you sooner.”  
Jaiden’s eyes filled with tears, as Mia leaned into him.  His grip tightened around her.
“We had to wait a little bit, because we had some complications. I had to take some time off work. But we’re okay now.  All three of us.”  
“This is the best news I’ve ever heard!!!!” Pops was laughing and crying at the same time. 
“You can't tell anyone yet. We’re telling Jaiden’s parents a little later on this evening.”
"We understand."
“So that means Pops, when we have the baby you’re getting on a plane and flying out here.  Mom’s not going to let you drive cross country.”
“It will be fun, we could rent an RV like we did that summer.”
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“NO Pops. NO!!!”  Gloria and Mia exclaimed in unison.
“That summer was a nightmare, Jaiden.”
For MJ, when it was time, he got on that plane.  The simple man who lived between North and South Carolina his whole life, had raised a girl that loved adventure, and was living her life now in California as a fashion designer  with her successful architect husband, and about to give birth to their first child.  
Jaiden walked out of the delivery room with a proud smile on his face.  
“He’s here.  Six pounds and two ounces and twenty one inches long.  He’s perfect in every way.”
Jason went to hug his son.    
Later that evening, Pops and Gloria went in to see the baby.  
Mia had been in labor for over twelve hours, but you couldn’t tell it from the serene smile that was on her face, as she held their first child in her arms.  
Jaiden took the baby from her arms.
“Pops, meet your grandson.  His name is Kaiden…. Kaiden Riley Brooks.”
(Author’s Note: yeah…. I know, I said Riley Brooks would never exist in a place where my MC is not named Riley…. But you know…. I had to mix things up. Technically this is NOT your Riley Brooks.)
Pops held Kaiden in his arms.  The little baby opened his eyes to look at him. And in that moment Pop’s life was changed again by another little baby, this time, weighing six pounds  and two ounces.  
He kissed the top of his head gently rubbing Kaiden’s head full of dark brown curls.
“We finally got our boy Pops.”  Gloria whispered as Pops rocked Kaiden in his arms.
*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^* Fast Forward  *^*^*^*^*^*^*^*
Time flies as time always does.  Pops and Gloria were visiting during the first week of school.
Pops grip on Mia’s hand tightened as she held her youngest child Luna on her hip, watching little Kaiden walk down the driveway to the bus.
Mia softly gasped as Kaiden stopped, turning around to her, and  waved goodbye to her, and his little sister, and his Poppy; Mia was holding back tears.
“I know how you feel.”  
“Does it get easier Pops?”
“You’ll always see him….them the way you do now.  They will always be your babies. It’s how I see you. I’m so proud of the woman you’ve become Mia.”
“Thank you Pops.”
“So, world, I bequeath to you today, one little boy… in a little blue and gold uniform…. With two hazel eyes and a flash of curly brown hair that bounces in the sunlight when he runs.
I trust you’ll treat him well.”
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Text
Surprises
Surprises of all kinds, found after a shopping trip goes wrong. Content warning for coarse language, sexuality, threats of violence, mentions of suicide and incest, and copious amounts of headcanons.
As always, there is more in my Twisted Wonderland Fanfiction tag, and send me a message if you liked it, I crave positive feedback.
~*~*~*~
TXT: where the fuck are you guys it's already quarter past
After a few minutes, you got a ding.
M: idia doenst want t leave something about a person see you aftr he needs freind
Oh goddammit, it's so fucking hard to get him out and about. At least Mal was with him.
You looked to Grim at your feet. "Looks like it's just us, buddy."
~*~*~*~
It was just you and Grim browsing through the dollar store, when a boy in a ratty shop apron came up to you. "Ma'am?"
You turned to him, and he coughed. "Uh, Miss. You're not supposed to have pets in the store."
Grim bristled at him. "I'm not a pet!"
Poor kid, he looked so startled. And you decided to make it worse, because yanno, why not. "How dare you refer to my son as a pet! Does he look like a pet to you?"
He looked between your face and Grim's, confusion growing. "Wh-"
"I know the resemblance isn't the strongest, but honestly! How could you say such mean things about him!"
Grim, bless him, actually caught on and decided to play along for the chaos of it. "Why are you being so mean to me? My mom works hard to keep me happy! She said I could pick out a toy today!"
The confusion had turned to anger. "That's not your kid! You're too young and he's an animal!"
Grim looked up at you, mock tears in his eyes. "I'm your kid, right? I'm not adopted like the boys at school say?" He started sniffling. "I'm not adopted, right?"
You clapped your hands over Grim's ears and glared at the now horrified shopboy. "Look what you've done! I hadn't told him yet!"
He just fled in horror, and it was all you could do to keep from laughing.
~*~*~*~
The village on the island wasn't the worst appointed. Being equidistant between two prestigious magic schools, it had a few places worth going, and after hitting up your personal favourite, you went to a small park, settled down on a bench, and started unwrapping your prizes.
You have a love for gashapon machines that bordered on a serious problem. In your biweekly trips to buy snacks and supplies to stock up your miserable, beautiful dorm, you easily fed 3000 madol (which you think was about thirty-five dollars or so at home, but couldn't be sure) into the long rows of machines in the drug store, coming out with tiny keychains, figures, and various useless but wonderful little totchkes that you kept lined up in rows in your bedroom. The joys of tiny presents! And the containers were useful too; for a creature who heavily insisted he wasn't a cat, Grim lost his shit like one every time your rolled a ball with a bell inside across the floor.
You were marveling over a tiny, perfectly realistic jellyfish on a phone strap as someone sat down heavily beside you. "Is that," they pointed to Grim poking his way around the cattails by an ornamental pond, "yours?"
"... Yes?" You turned to examine your seatmate. Charmingly strange looking, they sat impeccably robed in forest green velvet and squinted at you from behind perfectly round sunglasses. Flat-faced and thin-lipped, they reminded you of a toad, with their roundness and severe expression.
"Ah, then you are the one I am looking for. You're the pet of the prince."
"I'm a friend of his. Is that a problem?" You decided to keep opening your prizes, and pulled out a heavy ball from the bottom of your bag.
"His Highness does not have human friends."
"And yet, I am." This one, unwrapped, was the chase in the set: a tiny cauldron the size of a thimble that seemed to be actual cast iron. The chill of it was pleasant in your hand, and instead of returning it to your bag, you left it in your lap.
This presumptive stranger leaned in. "You're a diversion. A distraction from what he should be learning. Instead he plays with mortals and lets them forget their place."
"If it was so important that he didn't play with mortals, then why was he allowed to attend here?" You got a cheap set of rings on a goldtone chain in this one. Boo. You'd wanted the miniature necklace of the set for your doll. "He's very happy with the company of us all."
"Too happy. He forgets his place." The toady eyed the glittering paste gems before looking away. "Above you. Instead he crawls into your lap and serves you like a dog."
You froze. "Now, where did you get that idea?"
"We have sources." They leaned in further, smiling. A barely perceptible line of triangular teeth, sparsely placed and translucent in tone. "Foul things happen to the unwanted lovers of heirs, don't you know?"
"I am a wanted friend." 
"You're a parasite who should flee."
You realized something, and turned to face your strange benchmate. "Why are you threatened by me?"
They scoffed. "Why would we be threatened by you?"
"If you weren't," you said, dropping your voice as your leaned in, "then you wouldn't be here trying to put the fear into me." They leaned back, glasses slipping off their nose. The eyes in their face were exquisite, shining gold and black speckles with a ring of gold around an oval pupil. You could help but laugh. "Pretty eyes. You really are a toad. Who sent you? The Thorn Witch? Can't be, I'm not worth her time and if I was, she'd've sent a fucking letter."
"We're a concerned party, preventing our future king from making the mistake of dealing with filth." 
Well, that one pissed you off. You grabbed their wrist, feeling bumps and warts on their skin through the fabric, and pressed the tiny cauldron to the back on their hand as they started screeching.
"You," you looked them dead in their impossibly lovely eyes, "You go back where you came from, tell them I'm not a threat to whatever stupid bullshit they're worried about, and never bother us again. Or I will make you swallow this and you'll beg the precious prince you're so damned worried about to burn you alive to stop the pain."
You'd never seen anyone run so fast in your life when you let them go.
"Hey, Grim! We gotta go."
~*~*~*~
TXT: MAL SOMEONE SENT ME A TOADY SAYING I CAN'T BE AROUND YOU ANYMORE
TXT: MIGHTA BEEN YOUR GMA BUT I DON'T THINK SO
~*~*~*~
"I'm gonna kill that fucker."
"Killing them might start an international incident. If one hasn't happened already. You burnt them with iron, Yuu."
"I should have done worse! Whoever the fuck they were, that's two friends they've tried to threaten to stay away from you! That we know of!"
It turns out that the mystery toady had been the person to scare the piss out of Idia the night before. Not that they'd gotten far into their leave-the-prince-alone spiel, Idia had simply kicked them square in the stomach and fled, assuming another kidnapping attempt.
"It wouldn't have been my grandmother. In the last letter I got from her, she said it was very nice that I was making friends. She said to keep making them, even."
"She'd probably care if she knew you were sleeping with said friends." Idia was curled into the corner of his bed, and from the looks of it hadn't slept since his own encounter.
"No she wouldn't."
"You sure about that?"
You'd said that that was only going to happen once. Everyone agreed. But when all three of you settled in to play a game or watch a movie, hands moved and bodies flushed and you all seemed to find yourself tangled and gasping. And it didn't seem to require all three of you - you no longer had the strength to say no to Mal's obvious advances, and you'd walked in on your boys more than once. At least you were still friends? Really, really close friends?
"She wouldn't."
"Could they be worried about heirs?" That seemed logical. Even if no accidents were happening, they might not know that.
"That's not possible."
You raised an eyebrow. Everything worked right, and you all knew it.
Mal looked back at you. "Yuu, I hatched from an egg. I could have you both five times a day for a decade and all there would be to show for it is you couldn't walk. I cannot have children with either of you without magical intervention."
Idia made a truly impressive death rattle before mumbling something about the end of his bloodline, and you just nodded. "Makes sense."
"It's quite interesting, really, it requires numerous spells and potions, that if not kept up on, the babe will-" Malleus placed his hands together, back to back, and mimed the motion of tearing something open.
You flinched. "That's awful, goddamn."
"I have a direct ancestor who took a great deal of human women as breeding stock and simply let them be eaten from the inside out. That's what started one of the earlier human/faerie wars." 
"... Wow."
"I am not proud of her."
"Can we please talk about anything else?" Idia looked ready to be sick. "I don't want to think about any of this."
"Sure, let's grab one of your doujins."
~*~*~*~
"So you're already engaged?"
"As soon as it was clear I would survive to adulthood, yes. Idia, what is this series?"
"Nyan Neko Sugar Girls. It's not that great storywise, but it has great gags." He reached over and grabbed the next one in his pile. "It's not that unusual. My mother wanted Ortho to marry my cousin Alecto when they grew up, before..."
"Before he made a lifestyle change?" That seemed the politest way to put it.
"Before she went to the criminal ward."
You shut your book with a soft thump. "What?"
"I remember the trial." Mal sighed. "Strychnine in the sugar bowl at Sunday dinner. I made sure to get the newspapers sent to the palace."
"Mother was heartbroken over it, until she realized that the wealth of that entire Shroud branch defaulted back to us." Idia shrugged. "It's sad. She was just eleven. I still send her emails."
"Idia."
"Mm?"
"Why the fuck would an eleven year old poison someone?"
"My uncle said she couldn't get a puppy until her grades went up."
"What the fuck." You'd lie down if you weren't already doing so.
"It's the curse." He sighed. "We thought she might've been from an affair? But that proved it."
"My dearest Shroud, you can't guarantee it was from the curse." Malleus turned a page. "It might have been trauma from her mother's death."
You could see more bad history incoming. "Oh no."
"Alecto was from Uncle Jo's first marriage, to my dad's cousin Alita. She had a sister, but when her mother drowned herself, she only took-"
"Is this normal for your family? Or is that just some exceptional bad luck?"
He leaned in, lamplight eyes flashing. "Out of all the Shrouds of my generation that are still capable of inheriting, I'm the most mentally sound."
Both you and Mal had to stop and really consider the implications of that.
"So, Mal. Yours isn't that closely related?"
"Fifth cousins at most when they're finally born."
You sat up. "What?"
"I'm supposed to marry the third grandchild of the Hollyoak Baron. They're a well-respected family, and of snake fae descent so little aid will be needed for conception. His eldest child is in..." He had to think about what words to use. " I believe the term is 'middle school'?"
"They really planned it that far ahead?"
Mal shrugged, the movement rolling down his whole body. "I cannot complain. It gives me a very long time to learn how to be a husband before I have to be one."
"But what if you don't like them?"
"Marriage is chiefly a contract to produce heirs. I'll learn to like them, and ideally love them."
"And if you don't?"
"I'll still treat them as kindly as I can."
"And I suppose you'd take a lover."
"Maybe. They can too, as long as all the children are mine. For legal reasons," he added.
Idia, snapping out of his thoughts, tapped Mal's shoulder. "Does the Hollyoak Baron have any friends who are toad faeries?"
It was Mal's turn to sit up. "That... He could be worried that if I have favourites at school, I'll resent my betrothed for not being either of you. Or that I would attempt to break it off entirely."
"That still doesn't tell us how he found out about..." You gestured around the room.
Idia rolled his eyes. "All that would have to happen is any one student from the Valley of Thorns writing a letter home."
"But -"
"Malleus, you're not shy in your affections. At all."
"Yes I am," he bristled.
~*~*~*~
"Mal?"
"Mmph?"
"You have to put me down. I have class."
He made a slightly different mmph and shook his head.
You tried to pat his head, but your arms were securely pinned to your sides. "I know they're fantastic, but you have to stop."
He still refused to remove his face from your chest, making a noise that could have been purring if it cane from anyone who was a proper mammal.
"Mal, we're blocking traffic."
He still wasn't putting you down, instead swaying slightly in place.
A familiar long-fingered hand with dark nails reached from behind you and tugged at Mal's lapel. "Malleus, please stop, it's ten AM and everyone is staring."
Mal finally put you down - only to switch targets, wrapping his arms around Idia's waist and pulling him flush, fixing him with such a look of besotted fondness that you immediately felt like you were intruding.
"You look beautiful today."
Idia immediately burst into a ball of pink flame.
~*~*~*~
"... Perhaps I am a bit obvious."
Idia stared up at his ceiling. "You'd be at home in my otome games."
You chimed in. "What would be obvious, in your mind?"
"Very easy. I finish the paperwork declaring you Lord and Lady of the Bedchamber and have you officially ensconced as Court of Thorns royalty, ensuring you're both taken care of for the rest of your days."
"... Finish?"
"It seemed the easiest thing to do if either of you chose to visit my homeland."
You swatted his leg. "And you didn't think to ask us first?"
Mal was starting to clue in that he had once again overreached himself. "... Surprise?"
"I'm okay with it."
You glared over at Idia. "That's not the point."
"Look, if I ever get disinherited, I have a place to go. He won't make me go outside if I don't want to. I'll bring Ortho. It'll be great."
"They don't even have dial-up over there, Idia. Lilia told me he had to get all this stuff installed to play his MMOs."
Idia pointed at Mal, easy smile turned to outrage. "How dare you try and trap me!"
It honestly seemed like Mal and Idia had switched expressions, the look of worry on his face so strange. "It's a protective measure! If you're titled, people will get in trouble if they try and remove you!"
"That's still... wait." The gears were turning in your head. "If you finish that paperwork, whoever sent Mixter Toad is going to get in so much more trouble."
Everyone went silent as they considered this.
"... As soon as I get the official permission from my grandmother. She won't like it very much, but if I explain..."
Idia turned to Mal. "You were going to make your human fucktoys official members of the Court of Thorns without telling your grandmother, the queen. Who has a notable and often justified dislike of humans."
"No?"
"Mal."
"I simply prepared ahead."
"Mal."
"I - "
"Malleus." You leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You're so goddamned stupid. Love you."
He didn't say it back with words, but you got the message loud and clear.
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allandoflimbo · 3 years
Text
Ashens (Part 8)
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Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.
Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 4,050
Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.
Full Masterpage |
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[...] A screeching scream of a child. A glint of metal...
You weren’t sure if you were still dreaming or if reality had officially become unbelievably terrifying. Your first instinct is to swallow the gasp that escapes your throat as your body is being rocked from side to side. A cloud of heavy orange dust had crawled up into your sinuses and you tried to find what strength you could to cough out the dirt and finally be able to breathe properly again. Your lungs felt heavy and they burned ardently, a feeling of nausea and suffocation overwhelming your upper belly in tight waves.
You couldn’t be sick, not now.
You hear a strong voice calling out to you and your eyes finally somewhat adjust to the smog. You’re able to see Bucky right in front of you, his face scrunched up in concern. He’s yelling, you know he is, but your still-asleep mind can’t seem to wrap around the words he is saying. You feel the taste from the Apple you had eaten hours before on the roof of your mouth, and the twigs dig into your palms as you stretch yourself up into a sitting position.
You look around, seeing nothing but that orange smoke, your visibility very small.
You’re awake, and you snap your head to look at Bucky again, and this time he’s pulling you up by your arm. You feel the digits of his flesh hand digging into your forearm.
“What’s going on?” Your voice is hoarse and your throat is dry, begging for some water.
His brows are tight-knit and a growl comes from somewhere behind you. You freeze and you feel your eyes go wide, searching his for answers.
“We need to go. Now.”
“What time is it?” You don’t know why you ask, but you couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. The sky had hardly changed and you did not feel well-rested.
His irritation is all over his face as he ignores your question.
You look down at your belongings, only swinging your arm around to grab your backpack. Your eyes dart to your shoes.
“My boots.”
A sound that could only be closest to a grumble escapes his throat, and he bends down to grab your boots in his hand. You’re going to ask him again what’s going on when he’s starts running, bringing you with him by your left arm as he does so.
He’s fast and he’s urgent in his movements. That same growl from earlier echoes among the trees and you feel the hair on your arms stand up.
“What is that?” You ask breathlessly.  You feel the bottoms of your feet aching from the severe pain of running barefoot over the branches and rocks.
Bucky makes a sharp right turn against a tree and your back falls against his front with a heavy huff. You feel his heartbeat under you and he’s quiet for a few moments before whispering.
“It’s a bear.”
“Can’t you just kill it with your fist?” You don’t know if it was necessarily an insulting thing for you to say, you were only thinking logically. He was a super soldier, an Avenger. What damage could a bear do to someone like him?
But clearly it must’ve hit a nerve and you feel him quickly let go of you, making you almost topple forward. You spin around to see him snarling at you, his eyes dark.
“I could, but I can’t see anything through this fog. I see what you see. Unless you can tell me for sure the coordinates of this animal, I’m putting us both at risk. We need to move. Now.”
He pushes himself off the three and drops your boots next to you. He gives you a few seconds to tie them on securely and then he’s on the move again. You follow him very close behind.
You couldn’t risk losing him in this fog. Who knew how long it went for.
“The dust must’ve come in from the city overnight,” he mumbles, “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”
“Don’t say that. You needed to sleep.”
He’s tense as he continues to walk through the branches and leaves. The smell of the oak is stronger and it’s a reminder to tuck your scarf tighter around the bottom half of your face. It reminds you of when you were both walking through the abandoned city when he had fixed your scarf. For a fraction of a moment, you had thought that he had finally let his wall down. Obviously, you had been wrong.
You taste the oak and dust in your mouth. It was a bit like charcoal, that part of the burnt marshmallow that some people enjoyed except for the nice sweet taste.
“Should we be breathing this in?”
For a moment, he doesn’t answer. Then he pulls his own hood higher over his face, “No. But we can’t just hold our breath. Not when we don’t know even know how far this fog goes.”
“Can’t we run?”
He ticks his jaw. “We can, but it’s not worth the exertion.”
“You seem very unworried.”
He tucks his hand into his coat pocket and pulls out the compass. “Because I’m pretty sure it’s just remnants of blown-up tanks and steel fires. Just cover your nose and you should be fine.”
You knew he had served in World War II, and that piece of knowledge comforts you a bit, knowing that you were probably in the best hands right now. But you also feel immense pity for the man. Was war all he knew of?
“What made you want to enlist?”
“I was drafted.”
You nod. “I didn’t know.” Your eyes dart down to the bag over his shoulders and you swallow thickly, “Should we stop for some water?”
He stops suddenly in his tracks and you find yourself almost running face front with his back. He turns around to look at you, an unamused glint in his eyes.
“I have a question for you.” “Okay?” You perk a brow.
“I don’t know anything about you or your life, all I know is about your little family and how they built a place that caused this mess in the first place. But, please, enlighten me. Did you always have everything served to you on a silver platter? Did you always get what you want and when you wanted it? Food, resources, entertainment, water?” His eyes trail over your face, “I can’t figure you out, kid.”
Your teeth clench together and your brain grows confused at his skill to mix an insult and a sincere tone all into one. You tilt your head at him and take a step closer.
“I have held nothing but the utmost respect for you, Bucky. But I’m done,” he raises a brow at you, “I’m done at trying to pretend like I can take your insults and your insinuations about me. You, do not walk over me. You do not have any power over me. You and I are one in this mission as a team and we are equals. You treat me like such. You can do whatever the hell it is you want to do when we get to The Capitol, but I will not stand by letting you attack my family. You might think you know me, think I’m a rebel just because I’m younger and because I’m sarcastic and have a tattoo, you might think you know me by making these assumptions, but you don’t know anything.” Your voice was wavering by the end of your little speech and you saw a flicker of something in Bucky’s eyes, “I’m trying very hard to be your friend, your acquaintance at least. Why can’t you just try to be civil?” You don’t know where your balls and guts came from, but there it was.
You felt your eyelid twitch as you waited apprehensively for his response.
Bucky scoffed and gave an eye roll as he turned away from you. This made your skin crawl. Was there really no use getting through to this man? Was his skin really that dense and thick?
“How you got Captain America to be your best friend, I will never know.” You mumble under your breath.
He doesn’t give you any indication, but he heard you.
He was trying to the best of his ability to not think about the answer to your question.
But he couldn’t help it as memories engulfed his brain. If there was anything worst than remembering the bad things he had done, it was remembering the good man he was before hell took over.
Bucky hadn’t always been an asshole. He knew used to be a good guy, and he used to be happy. That was back when he had something to live for.
After he was brainwashed and after he participated in decades of horror and violence, everything he had ever been was stripped away from his character.
He wasn’t that free spirit boy anymore.
He never would be ever again.
It killed him that he had been deprived of happiness and life.
Your presence was only a constant reminder of that. He didn’t need you, he didn’t want you near him or to help him.
Flashes of his ex-fiancé run through his mind and it triggers him instantly. He pulls his hood tighter over his head again, not wanting any emotion to show on his face.
He feels the blood in his head and he feels that longing for touch; for care.
He couldn’t think of her. He wouldn’t. And he certainly would not allow himself to think about the man he used to be, something you seemed to be digging at constantly.
An hour later you were both out of the fog. The skies above were starting to turn all different warm shades of beautiful purples and oranges. You both know sleep would not come again until tonight, so for the rest of the day, you would continue your travel south. You were halfway down an open field of overturned cars and abandoned homes. It was clear you were both in what used to be a middle-income family suburban area. Most of the homes are two to three stories, but what once used to be beautiful mowed lawns, were now overgrown weeds and wildflowers. Some of the homes’ doors were open, and you couldn’t help but try to peer inside to see what might’ve happened. Did the family leave in a rush? Were they ambushed? You feel a tight feeling in your chest as you remember your mom and dad. For most of your life, they had been your only ground, the only people to truly love you aside from Will. You still never understood why no one in school liked you, if it was because your family had more money due to being politicians or maybe because of politics in general - you never knew. But it hurt.
When you took your kickboxing class, it had helped majorly with your pent up anger and frustration - more so than any self given orgasm - and you never regretted taking it.
If anything, now here with the gorgeous Devil Incarnate himself, you regret not taking more of it.
You continue to look down the street. There’s a specific small building that catches your eye. The windows on the sides are shattered. The sharp shards on the sides attached to the building were pointed inwards, glass and dried blood mixed with dirt which you could faintly see inside just past the window.
Bucky parts his arm out to stop you, and you look over at him confused. His brows are itched together in confusion and he’s got his gun in a tight grip in his left hand. He shushes you and his eyes dart around wildly. You try to hear for what he hears but it’s evident that it was something only he could pick up on because of his super hearing.
His gaze quickly goes towards the left and he motions with his finger for you to follow him. A couple of more houses later and you both look inside one of the small ones. It’s a light blue home with black shudders. This door was also open and you could see straight into the stairs that led up to the second floor of the home.
There in the foyer was a small dear.
Bucky must have thought the same exact thing you did as he brings his gun up towards his face. He’s just about to pull the trigger when you put your hand on his elbow, not stopping him but making him halt.
“Are you sure we should shoot it? We don’t want to draw any attention.”
He shrugs with his one shoulder, “You want lunch?”
He’s got a point. Sure, you both had your fruits and herbs which is not awful. But just the thought of meat sounded so nice. You slowly let go of his elbow and Bucky presses the trigger.
The noise of the gunfire echoes through the empty town. Even with a silencer, it sounded loud. You both watch as the dear collapses to the side, a gunshot dead center between its eyes.
Bucky swings his gun over. “Come on.” He says.
You both reach down to grab the dear. He grabs it by the head and you grab the two hind legs.
She didn’t look too old, maybe a couple of months. So she wasn’t too large. It would be just enough meat for both of you.
Bucky’s walking backward out the front door of the home when you ask.
“So we’ll haul this thing until we see woods?”
“Don’t fool yourself. We’ll just bring it around the corner over there. I’ll set up a small fire or something.” You raise an amused brow as his eagerness to eat the animal.
He wasn’t wrong, just a couple of yards off the road there was a small park. You watched, intrigued, as he removed his glove and cut the animal at the belly, the loud squelching sound echoing around you as its inside spilled onto the earth.
After he finished gutting the deer, you watched as he slid the meat off the skin and bone with skill. It didn’t take too long for him to walk over you with two small halves of breasts of red meat, one in each hand.
“Grab your water bottle and just drizzle some water over it.” You do as told and you watch curiously as he cleans the carcass, leaving it red and finally appetizing looking.
You help in building the fire while he jams two sticks into each meat slab. He hands you one and he keeps the other. You both sit there for maybe forty-five minutes, cooking, and finally eating the season-less food. It’s bland and it tastes gamey. But like meat, nonetheless.
You’re both quick on your feet and back on the road again not too long after. Bucky’s got his hands on his backpack straps, holding tightly.
“We shouldn’t have stopped.”
You try not to groan.
“We were hungry.” He’s shaking his head, “We lost time. We put down our guard. It can’t happen again.”
“It’s only late morning —“
“We should be halfway past the river by now.”
You take a deep breath at his tone, trying your best to not lose your temper. Why must he be so difficult?
“We’re fine.”
He turns fully towards you, “We are not fine!”
He stops walking and so do you.
“It’s not even midday.”
“We,” he takes a step closer to you and you swallow thickly at his arrogant aura, “are supposed to reach The Capitol tomorrow night. That should not change. It has to be tomorrow. No later. You holding me back won’t change that, if it comes down to it, I’ll leave you behind,” he looks down your face, “It’s not like I need your help.”
Your nostrils flare and your teeth clench together.
It happens quickly. He’s in your face, looking for another throw down, and then he’s falling backward with a heavy grunt.
Your heart beats away like crazy and you feel a fear you hadn’t felt in a very long time. You hadn’t felt it since you ran into a nomad a year ago. They had tried to kill you, just like they had Will.
You’re on your knees, grabbing Bucky by the shoulder as he’s half-sitting. You tilt him over until you see what looks like an arrow coming out of his upper shoulder.
“Oh my god, oh my god, okay. It’s okay, let me just —” you’re mumbling at lost for what to do, your hand hovering like crazy around the arrow, afraid to actually touch it. It doesn’t help that Bucky is breathing quickly through his nose, his nose and eyes pinched together in what could only be intense pain.
Next, he does something that you had never seen anyone do in real life before. He grabs the arrow with his opposite arm and he pulls it straight out with a deep grunt followed by a whimper. You watch in horror as blood escapes the slit into the cotton of his coat.
Next, he pulls you down until you’re on him and it startles you until you realize your mistake, another arrow shooting right past your head and into the field behind you.
“Stay the hell down.” He tells you. You do as told, too afraid to do anything else. With his good arm, he pushes himself until he’s sitting and he maneuvers into a position where he can get his gun out but he quickly lowers it back down again, “Damnit, it’s a kid.”
“What?”
“It’s a kid,” Bucky repeats. You watch from the ground as he raises himself up to a stand, “But the bow down, kid. We won’t hurt you.” The kid doesn’t say anything, “We’re not infected.”
You don’t know what the kid looks like nor what he’s doing, but a few long seconds pass before Bucky reaches his hand down, motioning for you to stand up.
You turn around to see that there’s in fact a kid with a bow and arrow and he wears a long coat, but very useless in comparison to yours. For a second you feel pity. He’s dirty and he looks very tired. No way he was any older than seventeen, his little ginger hair poking out from under his dark green beanie.
He looks between you and Bucky, his grip on his bow tight.
You want to tell him about the Avengers camp just outside of the city, and you look at Bucky, waiting for him to tell him. But he doesn’t.
You feel guilty and also angry at Barnes. You take a step forward, “There’s a place you can—”
“We were just on our way out of here.” Bucky cuts you off sharply, knowing what you were gonna do. His mouth is in a straight line, “We mean no harm.”
The boy says nothing for a bit and then looks back at you again. It kills you.
Eventually, he nods, pulling his beanie over his forehead.
Bucky sighs once the boy is gone. He grips his hurt shoulder tightly with his metal arm.
“Hurts like a bitch.” He groans.
You had almost forgotten he was hurt. You look down at his shoulder.
“Let me see it.” “It’s fine, it’s practically superficial. Nothing my serum can’t fix in a few hours.” Still, you reach your hand over covering his metal hand with your own over his wound, “What are you doing?” “Helping with the pressure to stop the bleeding.” After a bit, you lift your hand and he lifts his own, happy to see the blood had stopped oozing so much. “See?”
He doesn’t acknowledge your help, but instead just spins back towards the direction you were both going. “We need to keep going.”
“Why didn’t you tell him about the camp?” Bucky doesn’t say anything, “That’s kinda rich. Holding onto something that could potentially save his life.” “It’s not a refugee camp, trust me he would not do well there and people would not want him there, he’s just fine out on his own.” “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me he wouldn’t do well with food and water? A shower, maybe?” Bucky takes a deep breath, “Please tell me because, clearly, I don’t understand.” “Because it’d be just like that damn place! Like that damn wall we’re going to. Don’t you see that? We can’t just create another place like that, not when it can potentially become something just as horrible, we can’t just trust anyone.”
You kind of understood it, but your heart still felt heavy and your face falls sullenly.
“But he’s just a kid.” “Yeah, well so was I.”
His answer leaves you angrier and wanting to know more all at the same time. Who was this man?  Would you ever know? When you had heard about Bucky Barnes in high school and college, this is not what you had in mind at all.
You both didn’t share another word, the air still tense between the both of you, for the rest of the day. For dinner, you both ate an apple on the go and walked and walked. You even make it past the river in silence.
Thankfully, the weather today wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t too brittlely cold and there were no more cities or towns.
Just woods - just the way you like it.
Bucky doesn’t have to say anything to you and neither do you to him. Maybe it would have to be this way for the next six months.
The sun is gone when you both find yourselves walking through a deserted amusement park.
“We’ll sleep here tonight,” Bucky says. He points to a carousel, and it creeps you out. The horses’ eyes are still bright as if painted on yesterday, “We’ll sleep in there.”
You don’t complain. You didn’t feel like talking to him anymore today.
Anyway, tomorrow would be the last day before you both reached The Capitol.
Hopefully tonight you’ll actually get some damn rest.
+ + +
It was in Indiana and Rebecca was the best little sister Bucky could possibly ask for.
So much that he’d come home from school with his adolescent hands tied behind his back holding a little gift for her almost every day.
She’d jump out in front of him with her little puppy eyes.
“Bucky!” She’d squeal, throwing her tiny arms around his shin.
Just her happiness made him smile so hard that his eyes would crinkle up at the sides.
After he’d hand her the little bag of chocolates and give her head a little ruffle, she’d say:
“Daddy says he’s been waiting for you, Bucky.”
Bucky gave her a small smirk, “I know, just wanted to get my best girl her little chocolates first,” he’d shrug his shoulder nonchalantly, “I am the best brother in the world, aren’t I?”
“Best brother, sure. But seriously, your father has been driving me mad. You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” Bucky’s mother had walked into the foyer, her voice taunting and dripping with discipline.
Bucky’s smile dropped slightly as he brought a nervous hand around his neck, rubbing there.
He would squint his gorgeous blue eyes and bite bottom lip slightly in fear.
He always knew what would happen when he made his father late to camp.
He remembers the last time when his father made him run 5 miles non-stop through the heavy downpour.  
Right after, he’d have him slouch under the barbed wires purposefully making it lower, making him cut himself various times.
His hot tears would mix in with the rain, making it essentially pointless.
It wasn’t that his father was evil, but he was strict. He said it was to help him build character over what matters most and to make him strong.
Bucky still remembers the first time he held a gun. It was as if a part of him that was missing was finally in its place. And his father caught on too - he was born to be a sniper.  
“One day, you’ll be the best. Maybe even a better man than me.” His dad had said.
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ahtsumu · 3 years
Note
Hi hi hi congratulation on the population milestone! I'd like to request a drabble of "between the raindrops" by lifehouse + akaashi + fem reader if that's alright? Thank you!!😁😁
[between the raindrops]
akaashi keiji x f!reader 
tag(s): forbidden love!au, slight medieval vibes
the townsfolk are always whispering about a boy with gunmetal blue eyes and hair dark as obsidian.
he’s an akaashi, they say.
his name is keiji.
you say it at the foot of the sprawling willow tree against which he sits, reading. he’s always here, skin dappled by the light that filters through sinewy branches and dense leaves, gossamer mist swirling around his body like a cloak. akaashi looks up from his book and, realising that it’s you, smiles.
“just couldn’t stay away, could you?” he teases, grabbing your hand and brushing his lips against your knuckles.
“and what if i came here for a place to think and nothing else?” you sit down on the patch of grass beside him, stretching your legs out so that they touch his.
akaashi smirks and turns his gaze back on his book. “i didn’t take you for a liar. it’s very unbecoming, love.”
unbecoming. you chuckle lightly as you tug at the grass. reminders of the glaring differences between you always show up when you least expect them to. the make of his shoes. the gold ring on his finger–– an heirloom, as he calls it. his idiolect.
akaashi keiji is old money through and through.
his father’s family owns all the banks in town, they say. his mother’s ancestors founded the town itself. and as the daughter of the town’s newest up-and-coming wealthy–– a couple of merchants of all people–– whatever you have with akaashi is nothing short of a recipe for disaster.
forbidden.
“my mom found one of your bookmarks in my room the other night,” you say softly. the thin golden feather had gone unnoticed for months until the sun had finally spotted it from its angle in the sky. with your mother present. “i think she’s onto us.”
frowning, akaashi closes his book and sets it down on the grass. “what makes you think that?”
“she’s been pushing me towards boys a lot more lately,” you mutter, pulling your knees to your chest. and not just any type of boy.
“merchants’ sons,” akaashi guesses, lips carving up in a half-hearted smile. he stares down at the heirloom around his finger and spins it around as he continues, “your mother wants to marry you off to someone in your circle, i’m assuming.”
all you can do is nod.
“it makes sense,” he muses, staring off at the stretch of forest in front. “i thought this would happen.” because that’s just how it is, living so recklessly. reading every line there is, crossing them, and still hoping for a happy ending. it’s like trying to walk between raindrops in a storm.
impossible.
“we could run away,” you blurt out, grabbing his hand. akaashi’s gaze darts over your face as he curls his fingers around yours. “we could run off into the sunset. find a nice little cottage, grow our own vegetables… anything. i’m fine with anything as long as we’re together.”
a tender smile makes its way over his lips. “that’s wonderful but i find it hard to believe we’d be happy like that, darling.” akaashi presses the palm of your hand against his cheek. “we’ll find another way.”
“promise?”
“i promise you,” he says, capturing your lips in a kiss. “i’m going to marry you.”
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peaches-writes · 4 years
Text
how to appease your asian aunties ch. 1 - christmas
description: in the immortal words of wine aunts and aunts you’re not even related to but forced to call your aunt at gatherings, ‘do you have a boyfriend?’ member: jisung / han genre: fluff, fake dating au, implied rich kids au, eventual childhood / best friends to lovers au, college au, implied fem reader (but i still used they/them pronouns) word count: 7.5k chapter warning: food, drinking, explicit language, one comment about weight note: insp by a twt meme + this is my first attempt at making a story with parents having a bigger role in them omg
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ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist
Though you’re a semester away from graduating college, with your own circles of friends, clubmates, and close classmates, you still can’t understand why your mom and her sorority batchmates feel the need to have reunion parties every single year. Maybe it’s the product of growing connectivity in this modern age or just simply your wide age gap preventing you from having the same nostalgic feelings attending these dinners; nevertheless, ever since your mom started bringing you to these parties to socialize with her friends’ children when you were four, you've always personally found it a bit troublesome. 
They see each other at mall sales, weekend brunches, weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries all the time—a lot of them even work closely with each other. For as long as you can remember, you can’t help but endlessly wonder in this time of year: will they ever get tired of each other?
As you adjust your coat over your semi-formal attire for this year’s dinner party, you sigh in front of the full-length mirror by your house’s front doors and mentally conclude that they probably never will. This is your 19th reunion dinner now and even from meters away in the kitchen, you can hear your mom fuss to your dad and the helpers either worriedly about the desserts that everyone in the house (and your nearest restaurant branch) was forced to bake two nights ago; or excitedly about seeing her college best friend, Mrs. Hwang, even if they literally just dragged their respective families to the monthly brunch last weekend—like she always does minutes before you leave. She always sounds like a crazed woman but you know deep inside that she’s excited to see her friends again and reminisce about the same old college memories you’ve even memorized by heart now.
It’s cute and all, maybe you’ll even end up the same in a decade or so but you swear at present on the dinner menu tonight that the more you spend your first day of Christmas break attending these dinners, the more you’ll slowly lose your mind over this unofficial holiday tradition: from your mom’s dramatic ramblings at the start of the night to the prospect of spending the rest of the evening laughing off your unofficial aunts and godmothers’ unnecessary backhanded comments and trying not to get caught in the trouble the younger children make.
It really just isn’t exactly your type of scene. It’s like family Christmas parties but with more passive-aggressive internalized drama since you’re not related to any of the guests by blood.
“Y/N, dear, come along now, we’re running late!” Your mom scolds you as she approaches your direction to the double doors, carrying cupcake caddies and cake boxes with your dad and your six house helpers. She’s wearing the dress you helped pick out last month, you observe, which is another tradition of hers. Rich people and not wanting to be seen wearing the same clothes twice, you guess. “Oh dear, I need to fix my hair in the car!”
You take one last look at yourself in the mirror before sprinting to the doors and helping your dad open them. You also take a couple of boxes from one of the helpers as you all pile outside, letting everyone pass through before closing the doors behind you. 
The nine of you then head to your dad’s Ford you parked outside the house gates earlier this afternoon, loading the everything in the back of the car without much difficulty before parting ways with the helpers for tonight with the same house instructions from your mom to not wait up for the three of you.
“Bye!” Your mom waves at your helpers through the rolled down windows on the front passenger seat as your dad begins to drive away from the house. 
Once your house begins growing smaller in the distance behind you, only then does your mom attend to her hair while your dad closes all the windows and locks the doors.
You, on the other hand, lean back in your own seat, taking out your phone to pass the ten minutes travel time to one of your godmothers, Mrs. Kim’s house in the adjacent subdivision.
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“Y/M/N! Y/F/N! Welcome!” Mrs. Kim greets you at her house gates with her own mini army of house helpers, kindly helping you and your parents unload your party contributions and transfer them inside her recently renovated kitchen. “Oh, Y/N! Look at you, you look so beautiful tonight!”
You smile politely through the wave of compliments and ‘oh you gained a bit of weight’ comments that follow as you try your best to not to trip over the slippery marble steps leading to the house. Contrary to what your mom has been worrying about earlier at home, you eventually discover that you’re fairly early to the party for the 19th year in a row with only half of the families already in attendance to greet you when you entered the house.
“Y/N, all the teenagers are upstairs on the second floor, by the way.” Mrs. Kim informs you once your cupcakes have been neatly organized in the caddies at the very end of the buffet table, making you cringe internally at her preferred term for you and the other older kids in the house. “Dinner is at 7:30.”
“Thank you, auntie.” You smile one last time at her before excusing yourself to go upstairs, sighing internally in relief that her son, Seungmin, has smartly gathered everyone upstairs for the third year in a row to avoid the aunts and uncles for as much as possible.
You’re not completely fond of the parties, sure, but you can’t deny that there are little parts that have unconsciously grown on you—like your unlikely band of childhood friends and your shared hatred for this particular party.
Climbing up the slippery staircase as fast as you can with a death grip on the railings, you reach the second floor in no time to be greeted by six out of the eight people you’ve sort of grown up with in these parties occupying the common area: Felix and Hyunjin having a Wii dance battle in front of the television, Seungmin and Minho having a violent game of UNO on the coffee table, and Ryujin and Yeji scrolling through their phones on the sofa before abandoning them to approach you at noticing your presence by the staircase.
“Y/N!” Ryujin calls you in as she reaches you first for a brief hug and a short exchange of compliments on each other’s outfits, as if you didn’t just meet at one of your shared class’ Christmas parties yesterday. Though all of you attend the same university, you see Ryujin the most since you’re in the same college, just in different departments. “So nice to see you again!”
“Yeah, yeah, hello to you too again.” You chuckle, more genuinely now in the company of party guests you’re actually comfortable with, before waving hello at Yeji who trails behind. 
Yeji then naturally hugs you next, pulling you a few steps away from the staircase so the two of you don’t topple over when she leans her weight on you. “Y/N, took you long enough!” She says next to your ear. “Hyunjin and I were starting to make bets if the aunties suddenly trapped you downstairs like Chan and Miyoung.”
You hug her back with equal force, a little more than you did with Ryujin, pulling away after to playfully slap her arm for the teasing comment. “I’d sell my arm first before I let that happen.” You retort as the two of you laugh. “I just helped set up desserts—mom made us do an extra two boxes of brownies and cookies this year so you better get a lot later!” 
“Of course, but only if you eat a lot of the spaghetti my mom made!” She reminds, kindly fixing your hair for you. “I missed you! You look so pretty tonight!”
Behind the two girls, the boys also greet you in scattered casual ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s before going back to their own activities. You greet them back as they acknowledge you (and even reciprocate Felix’s long-distance high five mid-dance), crossing off everyone’s names in your mental attendance list as your gaze wanders around the room.
Since Chan is busy being a grown-up and showing off his fiance downstairs, you conclude that only one person is missing among your eight friends.
“Ya, Han Jisung!” As if on cue, the missing eighth person in your list emerges from the staircase behind you as Minho calls his name. “Welcome back!” 
Jisung greets everyone back in their second wave of scattered greetings as he walks to Minho and Seungmin’s direction, purposely acknowledging you last by suddenly turning around and walking backwards to send a wave and wink your way. He almost trips over the long ruffles of the big accent carpet as he does this, making you, Yeji, and Ryujin laugh as the only witnesses.
“Oh my God.” You place a hand to your forehead in secondhand embarrassment, stifling your laughs as your best friend regains his balance and looks behind him in case anyone else saw (which, unfortunately for you, they didn’t). You can’t believe that despite missing last year’s party because of his study abroad program’s strict schedule, he still manages to do his ritual clumsy carpet accident somehow. “This dumbass, I swear.”
In front of you, Jisung only laughs it off as well. “You didn’t see that!” He adjusts his coat with one hand and scratches the nape of his neck with the other in between laughs, walking forward to you properly after with his arms extended for a hug. “Stop laughing and come here, ugly. I missed you.” 
You feign a scowl but hug him back anyway, Yeji and Ryujin slyly stepping away with knowing smiles that only you can see with Jisung’s eyes turned away. You stick your tongue out at the two girls as they abandon you and walk back to the sofa before slapping Jisung’s back harshly for the familiar insult. “Speak for yourself, you ugly. I missed you too.” You reply to his latter comment with an amused chuckle of your own. “How are you?”
“Better now that I’m seeing you in person again.” He pulls away after with his signature flirty smirk, visibly eyeing you up and down now while his hands are still on your upper arms. Though he knows such gesture irks you, especially when it comes to the aunts and uncles downstairs, Jisung is the only one among your friends confident enough to tease you this way. Knowing each other a bit longer than everyone else has its perks, he’s come to realize over the years. “Look at you, all dressed up tonight. For me?” 
“Of course I’m all dressed up tonight, it’s Chan’s engagement announcement later.” You retort, swatting his hand away to adjust your now wrinkled clothes. “You’ve known me for twenty years, already; I think it’s time to stop assuming I’ll ever dress up for you now.” 
He only shakes his head, his teasing and lighthearted mood unwavering in front of you. “Nah, I really think you dressed up for me tonight.” He insists jokingly, a hand lingering over the fabric of your coat. “If I get welcome back parties like this from you in the end, should I just do more one-year study abroad programs?” 
“And leave me to fend off the aunties every other year? I don’t think so.” You’re quick to turn down, walking pass him to rejoin your group now. Jisung naturally follows along like a lost puppy, suddenly changing his mind on joining Minho and Seungmin to follow you around now that you’ve started conversation. “You owe me for leaving me to take all the ‘I can set you up on a blind date with my godchild’ and ‘are you dating anyone’ comments last year.”
The two of you sit next to Ryujin and Yeji who, without even looking up from their phones, quickly scoot away to the other end of the big sofa which makes you send pleading looks their way while Jisung laughs and gains enough confidence to sling an arm on the sofa behind your shoulders.
Another annoying thing from this yearly reunion party is how it’s an unspoken rule in your group to leave you and Jisung alone whenever you’re engaging in your usual banter. You and Jisung are the enemies type of best friend, for God’s sake. You don’t understand how everyone (yes, even Seungmin) thinks the two of you are being cute. 
“I keep telling you, you wouldn’t get all those comments if you just tell them you’re dating someone, dummy.” Jisung returns to your conversation once you’re settled, purposely placing a suggestive emphasis on the pet name. “That’s just the most natural thing to do in front of the aunties.” 
“And who would I show them if they ask who?”
“Try me.” Jisung answers smugly, earning him an eye roll from you.
“As if.” You deadpan, leaning to his arm anyway as you take out your phone and connect to the wifi. “Given your new fuckboy look to the aunties, I’m pretty sure they’ll see past that kind of bullshit, especially Yeji and Hyunjin’s mom and Minho’s mom. They’d be more convinced if I tell them I’m dating Seungmin instead and he’s already in a relationship.”
You don’t even have to look to your side to see Jisung pouting as he whines in complaint, his free hand going up to your side to shake your arm. “That hurts.” He dramatically points to his chest when you show the slightest hint of turning his way. “And having Bumble on your phone isn’t being a fuckboy, I don’t even use it to get dates.” 
“That’s not what the aunties think.” You point out, knowing just how much your aunts and uncles easily misunderstand concepts from your generation like social and dating apps. “I’m telling you, I prefer you swaying the conversation for me over you pretending to be my boyfriend.”
Jisung is quiet for a moment and you’re convinced that he’s decided on ending the conversation at this point until he suddenly twists his body towards you and challenges, "Do you wanna bet? Test out that theory?” He smirks again. “It’d really spice up this party, besides Chan’s announcement, of course.”
Only then do you look up at him since you sat down, deadpanning, “No.” 
“Come on, it’d be really interesting!” He taps you on your shoulders with a laugh, a combination of habits he always does whenever he’s trying to involve you in his usual trouble-making antics. “My mom will finally get off my back for always nagging me as a ‘fuckboy’ and our mom’s sorority friends will finally get off yours for not dating.” 
“You’re crazy.” You comment, crossing your arms in front of him. “I think I’ll just re-download Bumble too and bring someone to the party next year.” 
“You’re really taking too much jabs at my heart right now,” He sighs with a contrasting smirk. “and we’re not even past dinner yet.” 
“Because you deserve it,” You chuckle back at him, pretending to punch him on his stomach which he reacts to dramatically. “I’ve always known you’re a dumbass but that’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard from you.” 
Stubborn, he shakes his head in disagreement as you speak. “Nah, nah, we’ll see about that.”
And as if on cue, Mrs. Kim emerges from the staircase and announces that dinner is ready, luring everyone out of the second floor before you can even ask Jisung what he means with his words. 
“Ya, Han Jisung!” You call for him when he sprints to Seungmin’s side when the latter begins leading everyone downstairs. 
You try catching up to him but the staircase becomes too narrow for you to squeeze past everyone, forcing you to walk with Minho and Ryujin at the back of the group. With this, Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to look up at you from the turn on the staircase and send you another wink, a more confident one this time since he doesn’t trip after. 
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Your ‘age group,’ as the aunts differentiate you from the younger children, hogs the extensive buffet and steals the best table in the backyard, near the karaoke machine so you can stop the uncles from singing too much of ‘My Way’ once they get drunk later on and as far away from the children’s table as possible so you don’t have to be obligated to take care of them later on. Chan, the eldest among you now, joins your table with his fiance, Miyoung, after they’ve officially declared their engagement before the buffet opened, happily handing out their save the date cards for their May wedding.
“Just remember, Miyoung, that you can literally get all your wedding needs from us, okay?” Yeji comments amidst all the talk about the wedding, gesturing to everyone as you eat and drink champagne. “Like Y/N and Seungmin for catering, Ryujin for the attires, Felix for your honeymoon trip, me and Hyunjin for the flowers and documentation, and Jisung can dress up as a clown for your reception.” 
“Ya!” Jisung protests to your left, cheeks full of steak and spaghetti that makes the whole table erupt in laughter. “Chan’s and Minho’s studios can arrange the music and the decor; my mom will probably argue with Miyoung’s mom for the locations and hotels.” 
“I can just tell my dad to hire you as a clown, though.” Minho shrugs nonchalantly, further fueling your laughter. To your right, you can even see Miyoung giggling through her glass of champagne, having given up on stifling her laughs. “It’d make good entertainment.” 
Jisung then leans over to you to turn to Miyoung on your other side with a pout and a pleading look to her and Chan. “You two are just letting them drag me like this?” He whines dramatically before turning to you. “Y/N, back me up here.”
“No!” You press a finger up to his forehead and playfully push him back on his seat. “It’s a great idea, what are you talking about?” You tease as you do so, much to more whines from him. “There’s like five months before the wedding, think about it.”
Next to you, Miyoung forces herself to stop laughing, teasingly asking Chan, “Babe, what do you think? Should we just demote Jisung from groomsman to clown?” 
“I’d very much prefer being a groomsman, please.” Jisung asks over Chan, leaning over the table. “I can’t compete with Changbin for best man but as long as I’m not dressing up as a clown I’m good!” 
“Hey, how come Jisung’s a groomsman?” Seungmin complains from across you, frowning cutely at the couple. “Miyoung, I’m your cousin! I introduced you and Chan in university!” 
“You’re a groomsman too, Minnie, don’t worry.” Miyoung reassures with a warm smile before elbowing her fiance. “As long as you can get your parents to cater with Y/N’s family.” 
The offer makes Seungmin’s ear perk up in interest. “Okay, call!” 
“Can we all be in the wedding party at this point? I’m seriously pushing it now, I want to dress up really cute!” Yeji, who sits on Chan’s other side, pleads. 
“Me too! I second that!” Felix backs her up immediately, the two now leaning over the table expectantly in Chan’s direction. “Though I’m not so keen on designing things.”
“Ah, but we have to make more room for actual relatives.” The groom-to-be in question laughs sheepishly. “Though, knowing our parents, I’ll try to squeeze everyone in somewhere in the program. Just let us iron out everyone’s contributions first.” 
“Yeji, I’ll take note of your suggestion, though.” Miyoung points at the younger girl with an appreciative grin. “I’ll message the groupchat once Chan and I meet up again with the planner.” 
Meanwhile, Chan’s last comment gives you and Minho an idea and the two of you suggest in chorus, “Get Seungmin to sing!” 
“Jinx!” You and Minho exchange winks and long distance-high fives from Jisung’s two sides after while Chan and Miyoung ask Seungmin about said idea, making Jisung pout at you. 
The general table conversation then naturally flows to other matters, mostly about the famous names you might be expecting at the wedding, but Jisung doesn’t participate much anymore, turning to you instead and asking, “Ya, are you cheating on me with Minho now? You sacrifice me as entertainment then back Minho up but not me!” He rambles in between mouthfuls of food, making you and even Minho chuckle in amusement despite the latter being in another conversation with Ryujin and Seungmin. “I just left for one year and you’re already doing this to me!” 
“What are you on about again, dumbass?” You roll your eyes with a scoff, stealing a piece of steak from his plate for the third time this dinner. “Finish your food, everyone’s done and you’re so slow!” 
Jisung then belatedly swats your chopsticks away, “I’m almost done, dumbass, stop mooching off my plate!” 
"Then hurry up, you still have to accompany me to the dessert table.” You point out, referring to your least favorite part of this reunion parties: getting attacked by invasive questions on your return trip to the buffet table. “Remember, you owe me. I’m not going in there alone again.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He replies on his last two bites of food, eating one then handing the other one to you. “Have the other one, then.” 
He pokes your lips with the last piece of steak and you instinctively lean your head away, catching the food with your own chopsticks instead. “Thanks.” You bring the food to your mouth before carefully patting the oil he ended up smearing on your lips with your table napkin. 
Across the table and out of your earshot, Yeji elbows Hyunjin and points to the two of you. “They’re at it again.” 
Without you or Jisung looking, Hyunjin looks at the two of you in feign disgust. “I know, every damn year.” 
On Hyunjin’s other side, Seungmin nods frustratingly in agreement which makes Yeji laugh. “We shouldn’t have taken last year for granted, 'no?” He sighs. “Last year was so peaceful without them together.”
“Agreed.” The Hwang cousins agree in chorus before listening to the table’s general conversation again.
Meanwhile, Jisung finally finishes his food and excuses the two of you from the table to get dessert. Miyoung waves at you politely and Felix playfully orders that you two get him cupcakes but the rest only acknowledge you with simple nods as they’re completely engrossed in betting on whose dad will be singing My Way on the karaoke machine first (everyone’s in the middle of betting on Mr. Bang). With that, you and your best friend then take your leave, going back inside the house and making a beeline to the kitchen.
Unfortunately for you, you catch your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang gossiping by the punch bowls once you reach the kitchen’s open doorway—literally the worst combination of sorority aunts to be bombarded with invasive questions.
“Shit.” You mutter under your breath loud enough for only Jisung to hear, the two of you still out of the three women’s sights. Looking up at Jisung with pleading eyes, you ask, “Should we just go back later?” 
Quickly seeing this as an opportunity to get back at you, Jisung only smiles evilly and links his hands with yours, dragging a hesitant you inside the kitchen and towards the direction of the dessert table. “No, let’s get dessert now, baby.” He dismisses your silent pleas teasingly, making sure his voice is loud enough to get your worst nightmare of trio’s attentions. “Felix also asked us to get cupcakes too, remember?”
And like vultures, the three women immediately turn to you and Jisung as you head in their line of vision, three different shades of questioning looks on their faces. You especially catch your mom’s face, a mixture of surprise, amusement, and genuine curiosity for some reason, which sets all the gears in your head into panic mode while Jisung only gains more confidence from this. 
You swear at that moment on Jisung’s sort of untied shoelaces that you just want Mrs. Kim’s new kitchen floor tiles to swallow you up right there and then.
“Hey, mom!” Jisung greets his own mom with a wave, coming off as sweet to her but mocking to you. He then bows politely to your mom and Mrs. Hwang and you’re forced to follow along for the sake of courtesy. “Mrs. Y/L/N, Mrs. Hwang.” 
The three women look at each other curiously, as if in a silent debate on what they’ve just heard, while Jisung pretends to be unfazed, passing you a dessert plate and examining tonight’s dessert options. 
“Jisung, I swear to God,” You hiss at him as you take a slice of chocolate cake for him. “I’m going to kill you after this party.” 
He leans close to your ear while gathering cupcakes on a separate dessert plate, whispering, “I think it’s too late for that, though.” before your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang suddenly appear in front of the two of you on the other side of the buffet table with sickeningly sweet smiles, and a million questions. 
You especially fear Jisung’s mom. Mrs. Han and your mom often go to the mall together, especially when there’s an ongoing sale, and you’ve been forced to carry all their shopping bags over the years because Jisung and his older brother usually bail on you. Though she’s very sweet, you’ve always known her to be very picky on some things and it just makes you think that she’s picky on who Jisung dates too. 
“Mom,” You call for your mom with wide eyes. “Do you need anything?” 
But she waves her hand dismissively with a reassuring smile at your question. “Oh, nothing, Y/N dear,” She answers, eyes darting almost threateningly between you and Jisung. It makes your hand shaky as you now complete your tower of dessert plates. “your aunties and I were just talking and we didn’t mean to but we saw you and Jisung so we just got curious and thought we’d ask how the two of you are.” 
“Oh, just ask them already!” Mrs. Hwang exclaims excitedly, slapping your mom’s arm like a school girl. “If you won’t, I will.”
But Mrs. Han is already leaning over the table with a knowing smile, straightforwardly asking, “Are you two kids dating?” which immediately makes your mom and Mrs. Hwang erupt into fits of giggles. “Come on, the aunties want to know!” 
“Oh, um—” You stammer out before Jisung beats you to it. 
For the second time tonight, you feel Jisung’s arm on your shoulder as he speaks over you confidently, “Y-Yeah, we’ve been for a while now!” He then places his dessert plate back on the table and boyishly rubs the nape of his neck which only elicits swooning reactions from the three women, a complete contrast from your expectations a while back. “Just some time before my program ended so it’s been a bit long-distance for the most part.” 
“Oh? But how?” Mrs. Hwang asks curiously. “I didn’t hear of you going to Malaysia this year, Y/N, and Jisung, your mom told me you didn’t have time to go home!”
“You could’ve just told me, Sungie! Then, I would’ve had you sent home earlier if you wanted to see Y/N!” Mrs. Han adds as well, clasping her hands in satisfaction. “I knew this was coming! You two have always been so cute together!” 
Your mom agrees, “Luckily, I refused Mrs. Park’s offer to set Y/N up with another one of her nephews a while back. Had I known you two were dating, I wouldn’t have talked to her tonight at all!”
You open your mouth to try and speak but Jisung beats you to it again. “We’ve been in touch: message, calls, and video calls, you know.” He half-shrugs casually, as if he’s been rehearsing the line for a while now. “It’s our first time meeting since we started seeing each other so telling you guys just kind of flew past us.” 
You groan internally but you also can’t help but sigh in relief at the prospect that you avoided getting set up by Mrs. Park again because of Jisung. Though this doesn’t completely erase your annoyance over him for putting you in this situation, you still owe him a ‘thank you’ after somehow.
So, you conclude that you should just follow along. It’s fake dating your best friend over another pointless blind date at this point now, after all. “You’re okay with this, right?” You decide to ask in a follow-up, pretending to not know that they’ll agree anyway. Next to you, Jisung’s eyes visibly widen and, seeing it from the corner of your eyes, you quickly elbow him in response before giving your most innocent look to your mom. “I mean, Jisung won’t be studying abroad now and we’re graduating, anyway, so it’s cool, right?”
Judging by their softened reactions, you feel like you could challenge Hyunjin to acting now. 
“Of course we’re okay with it!” Your mom answers first, Mrs. Han nodding along happily. “I’m glad that it’s someone I know at least and I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind.” 
You hear Jisung gulp nervously at the last comment. If you’re afraid of his mom, he’s afraid of your dad because of the one time he helped you practice for your driver’s license and the two of you almost ended up crashing the Ford on your subdivision’s club house. You allow yourself to relax and laugh at this, making him tighten his grip on your shoulder. 
“Me too, sis.” Mrs. Han agrees, gesturing over to her son. “My Jisung here’s been going on dates with strangers online before this so I’m glad he’s finally stopped and settled for your kid! Modern love, huh?” 
“Oh my God, mom!” Jisung whines, his free hand coming up to his face in embarrassment. “I’ve told you before, I use them to meet friends! Not in front of Mrs. Y/L/N and Y/N please!” 
“Ay, it’s the same thing!” His mom insists to him before turning to Mrs. Hwang and your mom. “Social apps, dating apps, they’re all the same. Why do you even use them if you’re just going to fall in love with the person right in front of you? I taught you better than that, Sungie.” 
“Mom!” Jisung hisses, cheeks tinted pink. “This is so embarrassing!” 
You snicker next to him, catching his attention. “Your mom’s right, you know. Tsk, dating people from miles away and you just end up confessing to me on FaceTime.” 
He scowls at you in a way that scolds you for suddenly turning this situation in your favor. You only smile triumphantly at him which the three aunties take as a really sweet moment. 
“Aw, look at them! So cute!” Mrs. Hwang gushes before turning to her two best friends. “Should we just leave them alone now? We’re intruding!” 
“Right! It’s especially embarrassing since we’re both here, Mrs. Han.” Your mom agrees, leading the three out now. She then turns to you and Jisung, “I guess we’ll be off now, then? Don’t want to intrude to you two lovebirds anymore!” 
You smile up to your mom, making sure Jisung does too. “It’s fine, mom, we’re going back to our table now too, anyway.”
But Mrs. Han waves her hand dismissively at you. “No, no, we’ll run along now first! See you later, okay?” 
You and Jisung bid your moms and Mrs. Hwang goodbye, overhearing your mom bragging that she’ll share this new information to Mrs. Park while Mrs. Han and Mrs. Hwang agree before the three completely exited the kitchen. 
Once they’re out of earshot, you sigh in relief and elbow Jisung harshly who responds by dramatically taking a step back and massaging his side. “Ow!” He winces, careful not to hit the dessert table. “What was that for?” 
“I told you to drop the fake dating thing a while back.” You protest, threatening to hit him with your plate of chocolate slices. “Now I have to have you at home more often. I’ve already had enough of you at campus, here, and when your mom visits at home.”
“Ya, but you played along!” 
“That’s because I was put on the spot! And they did mention another blind date from Mrs. Park’s army of nephews.” You explain. “It was between you and another blind date.”
“At least I got you out of another potential blind date, right?” He points out defensively, proceeding to put your hand with the chocolate slices down on the table with caution. “And more effectively now than before, too! So why’d you hit me?”
“Yeah, I know but still, that doesn’t cancel out how you got me out of that.” You frown in disappointment, taking both of your dessert plates now. When he holds his hand up defensively, as if expecting you to throw them to his face, you only roll your eyes and walk past him to the direction of the second kitchen exit. “Now, I have to fake date you for real either until Mrs. Park lays off the blind dates or until I actually date someone.” 
Jisung immediately follows you suit, genuinely rubbing the nape of his neck in a bashful way now. “We don’t have to, maybe they’ll forget about it.” But when you give him a pointed look, as if suggesting that what he just said seems unlikely, he ends up suggesting, “Okay, fine, should we break up after Chan’s wedding, then?”
He then glances over at you to see you contemplating and calming yourself down so he instinctively insists on carrying the dessert plates for you, walking a little bit ahead as well and opening the screen door leading back to the backyard. 
When you’ve made yourself calm down and think more rationally, you firstly point out, “That’s too far away and wouldn’t that be too scandalous? It’s a big event so it could become gossip.” 
Passing the entire length of the backyard now, you receive a few congratulations and questions confirming your relationship from some of your mom’s sorority friends and their husbands, forcing Jisung to hold his thought until you’re not being swarmed again. 
“But if we do it before, it’d be too suspicious since we’d only be dating for less than 6 months.” He counters once the adults have left you alone, glancing ahead and seeing your entire table looking at you with quirked up eyebrows and comically intimidating looks. “Remember when my older brother did that as a joke to the aunties and got caught because they only did it for 3 weeks? They smell fear and deceit, Y/N.”
You sigh in defeat, “Let’s just figure it out later.” With that, you reach your table, setting your plates down and asking, “What did we miss?”
Judging by the way they eye you, your mom has probably told Mrs. Kim who’s gone table to table. 
“It’s fake, isn’t it?” Ryujin speaks up once you’ve settled back in your seat, making the table break character and laugh. “It can’t be a coincidence since you two were just talking about that a while ago inside!” 
“Please be fake.” Seungmin adds, gesturing to you and Jisung. “It’d be more annoying for all of us next year if it’s true.” 
You and Jisung, having the same thought and trust for your friends, nod simultaneously at Ryujin’s question, eventually joining in on the laughter. 
“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’d actually try that!” Ryujin cackles, a clear giveaway that she and Yeji were eavesdropping on you and Jisung a while back to a degree.
“To be clear, though, it’s his fault!” You add in between laughs for clarification, pointing to Jisung with your dessert spoon. “He started it!” 
“And they were about to get set up on a blind date by Mrs. Park again.” Jisung gestures to you back, completing the thought. “I was being a good Samaritan.”
“Ooh, and what did they say?” Felix asks curiously, one elbow propped up on the table as he listens intently. 
Jisung groans in exasperation as he eats his chocolate cake. “We bumped into my mom, Y/N’s mom, and Mrs. Hwang so you can imagine how they reacted.” 
“I can imagine, especially our mom.” Hyunjin sighs with his hands carding through his hair in secondhand embarrassment. 
“At least now we know where you inherited certain qualities from.” Chan teases, making the younger boy exclaim ‘ya!’ at him. 
“This is good, though isn’t it?” Yeji asks curiously over her iced tea. “I mean, Mrs. Park’s wouldn’t set you up on blind dates now.”
“Yeah, but that leaves me as Ms. Park’s only target!” Ryujin moans in frustration. “You know Mrs. Park doesn’t get convinced with dating people online!” 
You shake your head at Ryujin’s complaint. “Yeji can fake date you, though.” You point out, much to the girl’s annoyance. “Or ask out that girl from our lab.”
“So, does this mean we’re getting a dramatic break-up at Chan and Miyoung’s wedding?” Hyunjin interjects, having moved from playing with his now long hair to his glass of champagne. “Because if so, then you better tell us now so we won’t get too drunk at the reception until it happens!”
“I honestly want to see that happen too.” Seungmin agrees, the two high-fiving at the thought.
“That’d be interesting, breaking up at weddings.” Minho chuckles along now too. “People usually propose or hook-up so this is new.” 
“Hey, no stealing my spotlight on my wedding!” Miyoung complains playfully to you and Jisung this time. “We’re all supposed to have a good time there!”
Chan nods in agreement. “If you break up at our wedding, you’re getting kicked out.” 
So you shake your head reassuringly in between eating cupcakes. “We aren’t planning to.” 
“You’re going to date for real?” Felix asks teasingly, earning him a glare form you.
“Gross, no.” You and Jisung turn down the thought in chorus.
“Jinx.” Jisung adds, stealing a spoonful of cake from your plate.
“So when are you breaking up?” Chan asks, leading the whole round table to look back to you. 
“Whenever, I guess.” You shrug casually, belatedly swatting Jisung’s hand from your plate this time. “Until Mrs. Park gets off my back and Jisung actually stops fucking around on Bumble.” 
“I don’t fuck around on Bumble!” Jisung complains over a mouthful of chocolate cake.
“Well, that’s going to take a long time.” Chan dismisses. “At least let us all know so we can schedule faking a whole drama in this group.” 
“Anyway, it’ll die down soon, surely.” Jisung assures with a half-shrug. “Also, our parents only meet up constantly during this reunion party. If anything, we just have to fake date in front of our moms since they meet up more often.” 
“And Mrs. Hwang.” You point to Hyunjin and Yeji. “Since we all go to brunch once a month.” 
At the mention of the monthly brunch, Yeji’s eyes widen. “Does that mean Jisung has to be at our monthly brunch?!” 
“Oh, ew!” Hyunjin adds in disgust. “I’ve had enough seeing you at campus already!” 
“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Jisung exclaims back in complain. “I doubt I’d get invited to that, we’re supposed to be dating not getting married!” 
Jisung turns to you expectantly, sighing in relief when you say, “That seems unlikely, it’s my mom and Mrs. Hwang’s thing, anyway. It’s not the Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner brunch.” 
“It better be!” Hyunjin says with crossed arms. “Hopefully our moms don’t get that kind of idea.”
You quietly agree. Having Jisung on your monthly brunch with the Hwangs would just cause so much trouble and cement him in your mom’s good graces—but as your boyfriend, this time.
That’s probably not good. 
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The party officially ends some time around 3 AM, when most of the parents with elementary school children have gone home hours earlier and, besides the Kims, it’s just your family, the Hwangs, the Hans, Chan, and Miyoung left at the front gates, bidding each other goodnight.  
“Thank you for having us again, Mrs. Kim.” You bid Seungmin’s family last since they’re the hosts, bowing politely to Seungmin’s parents before giving Seungmin a high-five. 
“See you after break.” Seungmin greets you after your high-five. “Have fun in Japan.” 
“And you enjoy your trip to New York.” You reply with an enthusiastic smile. “I do hope your mom reconsiders staying longer so you can spend the New Year there.” 
He nods with a sigh, “Yeah, I know. Still, I’ll try my best to convince her.” 
Your mom then approaches the two of you, bidding Seungmin and his parents goodnight before taking you away by the arm then turning you towards the direction of Jisung and his family. “Goodnight, Seungmin, Mr. and Mrs. Kim!” She smiles warmly to them before turning to you. “Y/N, aren’t you going to say goodnight to Jisung?” 
“I already did.” 
“Ah, but go to him anyway! Your dad still has to start the car.” 
You groan internally. After a whole night of drinking, singing, and gossiping with her friends, you’d think that she would’ve forgotten about earlier. 
Yet you oblige anyway, excusing yourself from your parents and approaching Jisung whose parents are busy having last-minute small talk with Chan and Miyoung, probably endorsing their chain of hotels as early as now for the wedding. 
“Hey, ugly.” You greet him casually as you approach, both your parents out of earshot so the old nickname naturally comes out. At this, Jisung immediately turns from scrolling through his phone to looking up at you with wide eyes. “My mom didn’t see us say goodnight a while ago so I’m here.” 
“Oh,” He muses, eyes flitting to your mom behind you once. When he sees her glancing expectantly, he turns to you and suggests, “Should we hug?” 
“Yeah, I guess.” You sigh, going straight into his extended arms. “‘Night.” 
“’Night, baby.” Jisung hums gently, too sleepy now to throw more witty comebacks besides the cheesy pet name that originally got you in trouble tonight. “See you after the break.” 
“No, see you on our moms’ next shopping spree.” You correct firmly, pulling away from his warmth before you could accidentally fall asleep on him. “Since we’re ‘dating’ now, you’re morally obligated to attend shopping bag duty now, too.” 
This makes Jisung sigh in defeat, “Fine, fair enough. See you on our moms’ next shopping spree, then.” He pauses for a moment then asks, “The day after New Year, right?”  
“Yeah.” You confirm with a nod when you catch him pouting, “You started this so don’t pout now.” 
“I know, I’m regretting it now.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff, only making you chuckle. “I suppose it’s different when we hang out as friends and when our moms think we’re dating.”
You continue laughing anyway until a thought crosses your mind and softens your gaze up at Jisung. “Anyway, thanks for saving me from another date—I almost forgot. The means is still annoying but I have to appreciate it somehow, right?” 
This time, it’s him chuckling, “Now you appreciate my efforts. See, I told you, something good comes up with this.” 
“Whatever.” You dismiss before you hear your mom calling for you as your dad pulls up in front of the Kim’s gates. “Okay, that’s me. Bye, ugly!” 
“Hm, bye!” With a final wave, Jisung then sees you off before joining his parents who he didn’t even realize have already gone to their car. 
Seating himself at the backseat of his mom’s car a moment later, Jisung accidentally glances over to his mom from the rear view mirror only to see her wiggling her eyebrows at him. 
“So,” Mrs. Han says. “you and Y/N.”
“Yeah?” Jisung response with a questioning tone. “Me and Y/N, what about it?” 
Mrs. Han only shrugs from the driver’s seat as she now drives away from the Kim’s house. “Nothing, you’re just both really cute.” She comments casually with a proud smile. “I like it. Though it is too bad we can’t invite them to dinner since they’re going to Japan for Christmas this year.” 
“How about next year?” Jisung’s dad suggests. “We can go on one of our hotels abroad.” 
“Ah, but—” Jisung stammers, only to be interrupted by his dad again.     
“Or, honey, when you and Mrs. Y/L/N go to the mall again.” Mr. Han quickly quips in to Mrs. Han before turning to their son in the back seat. “I expect you’d stop bailing on your mom when she goes to the mall now since Y/N’s always at these shopping trips.” 
At this, Jisung shakes his head, “I won’t. I’m ‘morally obligated’ now, apparently.”
“That’s good.” Mr. Han says, turning back to the road ahead and relaxing into the front passenger seat. “You better.”
Jisung sleepily props his elbow up by the window and sighs, letting his parents enjoy this new prospect of him seriously dating someone now. “Yup.” He ends the conversation, closing his eyes and getting a few minutes of sleep before arriving back home. 
Suddenly, this is probably not a good idea—lying to his already hyped parents. 
ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist
tag: @t-toodumbtocare​ @sandaigdigan-reads​ @pwarkhans​ @ruellelix @malai-barfi @mahalau​ @milkywayfelix @qweens-stuff​
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hains-mae · 4 years
Text
Flowers - Pt. 5 (The End)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (The End)
(Damian x Reader) Soulmate AU
The Flowers: @call-me-prodigy @annoylinglyaries @zphilophobiaz @comic-brew @biglilwing @awkwardspontaneity @lozzybowe @mariiecapo @distressedearie @diyosku @dracoaereum @thesuitelifeofafangirl @chims-kookies @blade-xingston @danicalifxrnia
Rating: T
Ages: Damian and you are 16, everyone’s ages follow after.
Summary: Soulmate AU where the wounds on your soulmate turns into a flower tattoo on your skin, if it heals with no scars the tattoo goes away, if it heals with a scar then the tattoo stays.
Notes: Wow that was a fun ride. But every story comes to an end, I hope you guys enjoy the final chapter! And thank you everyone who has taken their time to like, comment, and reblog. I appreciate it a lot <3
Disclaimer: I do not own DC. If I did, I wouldn’t make it as confusing as it is now.
Robin visited every other night after that. It was surreal to have a hero that you’ve so long admired become your frequent visitor. Then again, nothing seemed normal anymore.
“It’s past the convention week. How do you keep coming here?” I asked curiously one night.
Robin gave me a lopsided grin and tapped the side of his nose. “I have my ways.”
After Mom’s week long leave was up she begrudgingly had to go back to work. The hospital assured her that I was healing fairly well, and that I would be transferred to Gotham Hospital the following weekend.
I was never really lonely though. Besides the friendly staff, my midnight visitor always came right on time. I wondered why he would take the time. Maybe it was to get to know me better? Perhaps my speech that night managed to get through to him. I had hoped it was both.
If I was being honest though, I was a little more than glad he did. I had meant it when I told the boy that I found him intriguing. He was a tough nut to crack though. I couldn’t blame him.
During the day when I would shower, I’d trace the flowers across my frame and wonder just how much he had gone through.
Soul marks start to appear at 10 years of age. You could imagine the shock (and worry) my parents had gone through when they found me one day absolutely covered in flowers.
From a young age I would hide them. Always wearing my sleeves till my palms, my neck constantly covered with either my jacket, scarf or high placed collars. It wasn’t that I was ashamed, but Gotham liked to talk – and when you’re the subject of attention, then you’re an easy target for criminals.
As I got older, the marks around my neck forearms slowly faded. I had worried about my soul mate and their well-being. Now that I understood everything, it was a different type of worry all together. The kind that would sit at the pit of your stomach and tie knots, heavy enough to keep you on edge.
My T.V in the hospital room was always on the same channel, Gotham News. Every battle would have my heart clenching as the camera’s desperately tried to follow the fight. Most of the time’s they wouldn’t be able to capture the end, and I’d be left holding my breath.
That’s one other reason I looked forward to our nightly visits. I could relax knowing he was alright.
I still wasn’t sure what I felt for this enigma of a person. But I knew that I wanted to get closer.
“I have an idea.” Robin said one evening. There was a glint his eye, the mask was off since my mom wasn’t around anymore. “And it’s got something to do with your invention.”
I arched a brow. “The bullets are complete but I still have yet to finalize the counter measures.”
He nodded understandingly. “Counter affect can wait. We don’t want to encase anyone in rock at the moment, but I’m putting it out there since you wanted to help.”
Intrigued, I urged him to continue.
Damian was quite brilliant in his own way. After much thought and planning, we had about 3 more types of chemically enhanced concoctions laid out. All of which were to go through Batman before beginning the experimentation process. He has assured me that I would be leading the research team for that under Wayne Ent.
I couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital.
“Do you like sweets?” He asked randomly.
Arching a brow I studied him. He was slouched on the couch with his leg dangling on one side and a book in his hands.
Charles Dickens.
“Yes.” I said, noting his obvious attempt to look natural. “Do you?”
“On occasion.” The boy shifted a shoulder to mimic a shrug.
The very next visit he had a black bag slung across his shoulder. His face gave nothing away but from the times I’ve spent with him, I realised it was his eyes that did most of the talking.
“Whatcha got over there?” I asked curiously, scooting closer to him at the edge of the bed.
“Patience.” He said and pulled up the make shift table that was attached to the side of my bed. Placing a medium sized box on top, he carefully undid the lid and opened it. “I present to you, baklavas.”
In the dim light I saw that they were flaky, almost like a croissant. There were some with a mix of nuts, from pistachios to almonds. Others were plain but still looked heavenly. They gleamed with a moistness, as if coated with a syrupy substance. I picked one up and popped it into my mouth.
It burst with flavour and dissolved much too fast. I squeaked at the exotic taste.
“Oh my gosh these are so good.” I said, licking my thumb.
Robin looked pleased.
“You should have one.” I pushed the box towards him but he shook his head.
“They’re yours.” He said.
“Nonsense. Food always taste better when shared.” I picked another one up intending to eat it.
“If you insist.”
I had barely managed to register the wicked glint in his eye before he took hold of my wrist and brought my hand that was holding the sweet close to his mouth. He took it carefully from me in one easy motion and lightly licked my finger.
“You’re right. It does taste better when shared.”
I felt the burn on my cheeks and ears before I heard the warning blare of the heart monitor. Immediately, Robin slipped behind the couch just as the nurses for the nightshift burst into my room in a panic. They fussed over me as I repeatedly tried to tell them I was alright. My heart finally calmed and once they left, Robin got up covering his mouth. He was trying to keep himself from laughing.
-x-x-x-
The weekend came much faster than I had anticipated. When the doctors checked on my progress, they gave the thumbs up for me to be transferred to Gotham’s hospital.  Mom was relieved, and wouldn’t stop fussing over me when we got there. I let it be though, thinking it was more for her own peace of mind than mine.
After that it was a short two weeks before I was fully discharged.
Robins visits never wavered though. If anything, he had stayed for longer periods of time. I got to know the boy under the mask more than I had hoped for and opened up in return more than I had intended.
I found out his brothers were vigilantes too. He pointed them all out one evening with a family picture he’d secretly stashed in his wallet. They were a “thorn” to his side �� as he had so eloquently described, but I could see just how much he loved them. That was another thing I learnt about him, his speech patterns were very posh. He liked to use formal names and slang was not completely in his vocabulary. I asked him about that one time, to which he only replied “another time”. It was probably a touchy subject, where he exactly grew up.
His favourite colour was green, and his adoration for animals was as deep as black hole. It was crazy how perfect my mind painted him to be, and the more I knew, the harder it was to ignore the feelings growing inside me.
He enjoys reading, but would gladly spend the day locked in his room with his tablet and pen drawing the day away. He is good both in traditional and digital art, and sometimes dabbles in graphic design when he feels like it. He prefers his tea without any additives, but would not hesitate to pour bucket loads of milk and sugar in his coffee during the rare moments he drinks it.
I could list everything down but it would just solidify my attraction to him, and honestly I doubt this was he needed right now. Juggling a double life sounded a lot more stressful than he showed it to be. He hardly ever talked about it but from the amount of flowers blooming on me, it was difficult to see it any other way but exhausting. He’d kick butt at night, get hurt, then go to school the very next day like nothing happened.
He arrived one evening like he normally did and I had rushed up to pull off his glove. I felt a sting earlier and found a Sakura branch littered with pink flowers. I was right, his arm was soaked in red, and the gash looked bad.
“It’s just a scratch.” He promised me.
I didn’t reply. Taking him straight to the bathroom, I rinsed out the remaining blood and addressed the wound. After bandaging him up I finally looked into his eyes and showed him just how worried I was.
That evening we sat next to each other, with our fingers intertwined and his thumb randomly brushing against my knuckles.
-x-x-x-
Finally I was able to return home. Being able to lie down on my own bed, inside my own house, I could let loose and properly relax. I threw myself onto the soft comforters that smelled like fabric softener and smiled to myself.
Home sweet home.
But not for long, I reminded myself that this evening I would be dining with the Wayne’s. Swallowing hard, I hurried my face onto the pillows. I can’t mess this up, not after everything they’ve done for me.
Damian’s smirking face suddenly came to mind, and all his welcomed visits. It made my stomach grow warm. Remembering us sharing the sweets he gifted – soft lips against my fingers.
I groaned into the pillow, the room was getting a little hot. Getting up gingerly, as to not aggravate the newly healed stitches, I manoeuvred my way to the window and pushed it open. The cold evening air felt good against my heated skin. I sighed in content.
If I were being honest, I didn’t know what exactly was happening between us. I didn’t know if I wanted anything to happen between us. Wouldn’t it be weird, considering that I’d be interning for his dad in just a couple of months. Possibly work there if my luck doesn’t run out first. Not to mention WHO he was.
You’re just a normal girl, I chided myself. Not someone important enough to stand beside such a prestigious boy and his ridiculously wealthy family.
But even then – I found myself wondering. Seeking. Imagining… What if we were to become something more? What if it works? What if we fall in –
“Y/n!” Mom’s voice broke through my reverie, waking me up from the needless train of thought.
Closing my window, I poked my head out the door and found her putting on a bracelet.
“Are you ready? The cab is nearly here.” She asked.
I nodded and took a step closer to her. Looking quickly at the vanity mirror in the hallway, I gave myself a once over to make sure everything was in place. I had on a slightly fitting turtle neck sweater, paired with a high waisted pleated skirt and dark stockings. On my feet I sported on my boots. It was safe to assume no one would be able to see my soul marks.
My mom grabbed her purse and headed downstairs. I followed close behind her, handing her her coat before locking up the front door.
The cab driver arrived a few minutes in, and we drove off straight to Wayne Manor.
“This is exciting isn’t it?” She said to me with a lift in her voice, as she exited the cab to get the gates opened.
Once we could enter, we were greeted with a very large land that was pristinely kept. The grass was cut evenly, and the trees lining the estate were trimmed to perfection. Bushes were perfectly shaped into different animals, and flowers systematically grown to create swirls and shapes beside the road. A big fountain was situated just in front of the mansion while a man in a black suit waited beside the opened doors.
We exited the cab after paying and did our best to take it all in without looking like fishes out of water.
“Ah, Mrs. & Ms. Y/l/n.” It was the man who I saw pick up Damian that one night in Metropolis appeared. I also remembered him in the family photograph. His accent was thickly laced with British poise. “My name is Alfred Pennyworth, I shall be you’re attendant for the evening.”
“Thank you.” Mom was quick to compose herself.
As soon as I entered the house I felt my breath stolen away. It was huge. Everything looked so new and polished.
I barely registered my mom and Alfred chatting away as he led her to the dining hall.
“I know what you’re thinking.”
I nearly jumped at the voice that startled me. Whipping my head around, I found Jason standing with his hands in his pockets.
“I remember my first time coming in here. Completely floored.” He chucked.
I waved a small greeting. “Everything looks so –“
“Expensive? Exorbitant? Grand?” He tried to guess.
“Beautiful.” I breathed out.
He laughed. “Not what I expected. But you’re full of surprises aren’t you.”
I blushed. “Ah, I’m not sure about that. I’m just me.”
“Hey, no stealing our guest before dinner.” Dick walked down the stair case with Tim beside him.
“Feeling better Y/n?” Tim asked as we grouped just below the stairs.
“Yeah, thank you.” I answered, suddenly feeling flustered as they surrounded me.
Stay calm.
“Don’t be nervous.” Dick said with an air of comfort.
I wanted to ask what made him think so, but he answered before I even began to articulate the words.
“You’re fidgeting like a college student during a thesis debate.” He said simply.
“You’re… very good at reading people.” I arched a brow at him.
“One of my many amazing abilities” He winked.
Jason let out an air of playful frustration and pulled Dick aside. “And now you’re stealing her. Can’t hold a normal conversation can you Dickie, always a flirt.”
“First of all – do I need to remind you who mostly does all the talking during dad’s parties. And second of all – I am not a flirt. I can’t help it if I’m charming.” Dick mocked a suave look and shot it as his brother.
Jason looked like he was about to gag and Tim was less than pleased. I laughed at their antics.
“What’s funny?” Damian appeared beside me. I jumped and held a hand to my racing heart.
“Jeez, do all of you have a talent for sneaking up on people?” I wheezed out, trying to gather my bearings.
They all grinned at me without answering.
Robins, my inner muse whispered. I brushed off the thought as quick as it had come.
We had made it to the dining area just in time for Alfred to begin serving the meals. My mother was already chatting up a storm with Mr. Wayne. A wine glass in hand and a slight tint to her cheeks. She looked happy.
I began walking towards the seat beside my mother when Damian pulled out the chair like a gentleman. I bit the inside of my cheek and mumbled a thank you.
He took the space beside me and the rest of his brothers seated themselves opposite us.
As we opened our plates for dinner, I was amazed to see how well it was presented. Mr. Pennyworth continued to serves other dishes, and once he was done he left the room.
The food tasted just as good as it looked.
Easy conversation wafted around us, the usual topics of school, and future plans. Mr. Wayne brought up the internship which I nearly gushed over due to my excitement. Damian held back a laugh with a cough when he noticed my little slip up before I composed myself again. I bumped his knee under the table and playfully glared at him. He smirked and bumped me back.
“My compliments to the chef Mr. Wayne.” Mom said.
“I’ll be sure to tell him.” He smiled through a glass of wine. How many glasses in were they at this point? Damian and I were the only ones who weren’t allowed so both our glasses were filled with water and juice.
“And, please,” Mr. Wayne continued. “Call me Bruce.”
“Hey, we should give the women a tour.” Dick suggested. “I’m sure you’ll both love it.”
Jason and Tim had excused themselves, and I had an inkling as to what they were up to. Patrols were a common thing, as Damian told me.
And so with Dick and Bruce leading, my mother and I followed as they showed off the grandness of the manor.
I couldn’t help but be awestruck all over again. The library was huge. Their shelves towered from ceiling to floor, and filled with all kinds of books. From novels to more informative documents. I recognised a couple of titles from the times Damian spent the night reading.
The sunroom was next. The glass was near invisible. I took in the sight of the gorgeous garden just beyond the panels, being able to outline a gazebo at the far end with flowers twisting around its pillars. I unconsciously touched my stomach where the stitches were, randomly pondering what kind of flower had bloomed from such a brutal wound.
“Are you okay?” Damian was beside me immediately and his hand supported my elbow. His voice was laced with concern.
“Oh.” I realised what he was talking about and pulled my hand down. “I’m okay, just a little tired.”
“Honey?” My mom’s face pinched in concern. “Is it hurting again?”
“I just need to rest Mom, I’m fine.” I assured her. “You should continue, I’ll just sit here for a bit.”
Mom was hesitant but there wasn’t much she could do, and she knew it. So they moved on, but not without Mr. Wayne asking for some painkillers to be brought to me.
After taking the medicine, I thanked ‘Alfred’ (as he had asked me to call him) before he left.
Damian was sitting on the arm rest of the couch. My hand was in his and he rubbed random circles around my knuckles. His brows were furrowed, and his features were set in a deep scowl. I could practically feel the guilt and worry radiating off of him.
“I have to be honest, I thought I’d see more animals around.” I said, trying to lighten up the mood.
“Father asked me to keep Titus in my room for the time-being, he didn’t know how you two would react to a Great Dane, or vice-versa.” The boy said simply.
“Great Dane?” I asked flabbergasted.
The corner of Damian’s lips turned upwards. “When you feel better I’ll introduce you.”
“It’s a date.” I answered before thinking. All at once I realised what I said and felt my cheeks burn. “Ah – I mean, not date. If you aren’t comfortable with that, people just use the word date as a meeting time or –“
“It’s a date.” He brought my fingers up and ghosted his lips over them. I had to hold my breath fearing that my heart would stop.
I was momentarily stunned by his forwardness and calm. Looking away I managed to slow down my heart rate to a regular beat.
“I still need to guess the rest right?” I asked coyly.
He gestured for me to continue.
“Let’s see.” I rested my head on the couch and closed my eyes to recall our conversation back in the ball room. “We’ve got a dog, a cat.”
“Mhm.” Damian nodded, moving from the arm rest to the empty space next to me.
My brain brought up an old song from the Princess and the Frog, when they had to ‘Dig a Little Deeper’.
A dog, a pig, a cow, a goat – the lyrics were sung in my subconscious before I could stop it.
“A cow.” I guessed.
Damian’s eyes grew a little wide, before a grin made its way to his lips. “Yes.”
“What seriously?” I giggled. “You actually have a cow?”
“Bat-Cow.” He chuckled. “I was a child, and that was the first name to come up.”
I was full on laughing now. “I cannot wait to meet them. But that was seriously a random guess, now I feel like my confidence is dwindling.”
“Then how about you wait till you see them?” He suggested.
I bit my lip and shifted in my seat, our knees brushed and I felt that warmth spread across my chest. We’re close. A little too close.
When I looked at him I found he was staring at the garden outside. I didn’t mean to be rude, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. There was something about this boy that just drew me closer, making me want more. I traced the little moles across his cheek and wondered when I had let this magnetic pull take over me.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer.” Damian commented. His intense green eyes bore into mine as he threw a deviously charming smirk my way.
I blushed and looked away, suddenly finding my shoes a lot more interesting than it was. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
He turned towards me. And I made the mistake of facing him again, because now our faces were just mere inches apart.
I found myself gazing at his beautiful green eyes that contrasted so well with his tanned olive skin. There were so many different shades of green looping and mixing with one another, it felt like a maze – one that I would willingly get lost in.
My fingers rested in the spaces between his, and I marvelled at how everything in that moment felt right.
I tilted towards him, and he did the same towards me.
“What are we doing?” I whispered, stealing a glance at his lips.
Heart pounding.
Blood racing.
It left me dizzy.
“I’m… not sure.” Damian replied, his tone low. “But if you asked me to kiss you, I would.”
His thumb grazed the inside of my wrist with a feather-light touch and I burst into flames.
“Kiss me.”
And he did.
-THE END-
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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years
Text
Memories - Grayson Dolan
here i am, back with another fic based on a dream i had! also, i did not proofread this so im sorry for the mistakes!
summary: You are childhood friends with the Dolan siblings and you recreate childhood photos, but one recreation results in surprising consequences.
word count: 3.8k
masterlist
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“I can’t believe they made me do this,” you growl at your own reflection when you finish your already ridiculous look with putting your hair up into piggy tails. You look like someone who has fully lost her mind and acts like a child while being an adult. The denim overalls fit you loosely since you found it in your brother’s wardrobe, but it was the closest you could find to what was required from you. The striped shirt however is a little too tight, given the fact that the last time you wore it was in seventh grade. You’ve definitely gotten bigger in certain parts since then, but this is the only striped shirt you could find in such a short notice.
You feel ridiculous, but still excited. When the twins called you last night to ask if you’d be in recreating your old photos from your childhood there was just no way you could refuse. One, they sounded so thrilled and eager and two, you found it just as interesting and promising as them. You’ve been stuck at home for so long, you just couldn’t say no to some fun with your favorite neighbors. Growing up next door to the Dolan household has been one of the best things in your life. You instantly had two more awesome brothers and a big sister and friends you knew would always be there for you. When the twins left from home and Cam moved because of collage you were afraid you’d lose them since you stayed, only attending the local community college so you could help out the family business, but they proved you wrong. Endless video calls, nonstop texting and snapping and surprise visits whenever they came home to the family reassured that this is surely gonna last a lifetime.
Now in this messed up situation with the virus, they are all home with Lisa and being the restless goofballs that they are, there’s always something crazy they are up to and this time they made you join them.
“Y/N!” your mom calls from downstairs and though you already heard the quads arriving she lets you know the boys are here for you.
Taking your backpack that’s filled with your other childhood outfits you stomp down the stairs when you appear in the corner Grayson is the first one you spot. His eyes widen at you for a second before that shit-eating grin stretches across his face at your outfit, even though he looks just as ridiculous as you in his old, purple shirt with Sponge Bob on it and the hideous red shorts, socks pulled up almost until his knees.
“Look at you, Tootsie!” he chuckles and you roll your eyes at the nickname only he uses still. You couldn’t say the letter F normally until you were about seven, turning the word footsies into tootsies and everyone liked to tease you about that, especially Grayson. The name got unstuck by the time you turned sixteen, but not for him. He still calls you Tootsie whenever he has the chance. You don’t mind, it always awakens those damned butterflies in your tummy.
As you get to the bottom of the stairs his hand immediately reach up to curl a strand of hair from your piggy tail to his finger, playing with it a little before he lets it slip out of his grip.
“Woah, Y/N, you nailed the look!” Ethan shows up with freshly baked cookies in his hands that he probably got from your mom who is experimenting in the kitchen again. That’s her new favorite thing since the quarantine started.
“I know, right?” you grin, doing something that you meant to be a curtsey, but it turned out more like an awkward bopping.
Ethan has a black shirt on with striped pants, socks just as high as Grayson’s with his tennis shoes. They both nailed the vintage looks pretty well and you can’t wait to see their other outfits. Grayson sent you a bunch of photos last night that they want to recreate and he got you curious what will turn out of this.
Your mom walks out of the kitchen, oven mittens on her hands and she gasps seeing all three of you.
“Om my! How cute you all look!” she cheers and gathers all three of you into a group hug. “Time flies…”
“But you look just as pretty as you always did,” Grayson smirks at her and you can see her blushing. He never fails to make her feel better, one thing you absolutely adore in him.
She packs some more cookies for you before you finally leave, the quads waiting on your driveway. You go to Gray’s without a second thought, you always ride with him. Ethan used to make a fuss about it when they first got them, but eventually gave up on the fight and you guess he accepted that Grayson is your ride when it comes to the quads. You always told him it’s because you think he is a better driver, but in reality you just love sitting behind him, arms hugging his waist, thighs pressed together.
His sweet scent makes you smile as you sit behind him, waiting for him to start the quad and you often wish the way from your house to their would last longer, giving you more time to enjoy this little moment with him. Crushing on your childhood friend has taught you to savor these little things as if they are happening for the last time in life, because these are all you had and still has.
“Piggy tails!” Cameron greets you upon arriving, jumping down the stairs rocking the same hairstyle as you.
“We should do them more often,” you laugh as you get off the quad, unwillingly letting go of Grayson, going to hug her tight.
“We look fucking awesome for sure,” she grins.
The boys bring everything that’s going to be needed during the photoshoot into the pickup while you go inside to greet Lisa and the three of you girls have a quick little chat.
“Oh, I can’t wait to see the pictures,” she cheers happily, hips leaning against the edge of the counter. “I love these recreations.”
“We will look so ridiculous on all of them,” Cameron snorts finishing up her lemonade.
“We always end up looking ridiculous when we are together,” you smirk at her and she points at you nodding.
“You’ve got a point.”
Once the boys are done with loading the car you go to the backyard to shoot the first few pictures that were taken there. Ethan is responsible for the camera, Grayson controls the set while you and Cam try your best to nail the poses like on the pictures.
They turn out amazing. You all managed to recreate the outfits almost perfectly and you could find the exact spots from the photos, making it possible to nail them precisely. Lisa watches you work from the kitchen window, a wide smile on her lips and it makes you happy to see her like this. So carefree and full of life.
“Okay, we have one last photo here,” Ethan directs, zooming in on the picture on his phone. “Gray, Y/N, go to that tree.”
Nodding you follow the instructions, though you know which photo it is going to be. You adjust your piggy tails tugging on your shirt. You’ve changed from the overalls, now rocking a yellow polo shirt with high-waisted denim shorts and sandals. Many of the pictures were taken on the same day, so you can recreate more in the same outfits.
“Alright, Y/N has to sit on your shoulders and hold onto a branch.”
Gray nods and turns to you, rubbing his hands together.
“I’ll squat down, you sit on my shoulders, okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod, feeling a bit nervous. The guys used to pick you up, carry around on their back and shoulders a lot, but your teenage years made you super insecure about your weight, so you asked them to stop. They respected your choice and though you’ve successfully overcome this situation, they are still very careful around you.
Grayson squats down and you stand behind him, hesitant before lifting your leg up and planting it onto his shoulder. You freeze when his hand holds onto your thigh above your knee.
“Don’t worry, I got you,” he softly reminds you, thinking you froze because you’re afraid he would drop you, but in reality it’s because of his touch.
“I know,” you quietly say before placing a hand on his head for support, fingers digging into his now long hair before you lift your other leg up and finally put it to his shoulder. He counts back from three before he stands up and you suddenly tower over everyone in the backyard.
“Hold onto the branch!” Ethan instructs you and looking up you grab the first branch you can reach. Grayson’s hands on your thighs are basically burning and you can’t tell that it’s his palms that are so hot or your skin under his touch.
You manage to focus for a few so the picture can be taken and when Ethan says you got what you needed Grayson slowly descends so you can hop off his shoulders.
“You okay?” he asks brushing his hair out of his face once you are both standing on your own feet.
“Yeah,” you smile shyly as he brings a hand to your back, gently caressing it to let you know without words that you did great.
Once the backyard pictures are done you all load into the pickup and head into the forest, the place where you’ve had so many adventures growing up. You knew this recreating would be a lot of fun, but you finally feel like it’s all like before, when adulthood hasn’t set in, the twins and Cam were still living next door, making it easy to hangout whenever you wanted.
You take picture after picture, and not just recreations, you are making new ones, eternalizing this new memory the four of you share now.
“Alright, we have one more picture to take,” Ethan announces with a knowing grin and you furrow your eyebrows at him.
“What? I thought the one with the ladder was the last one.”
Walking over he shows you his phone, already laughing and your eyes go wide when you see the photo he wants to recreate.
“You did not send me this!” you protest as you stare down at the photo you’ve seen so many times before, but never thought it would cause you to almost have a heart attack.
It was taken of you and Gray, the two of you are sitting on the back of Sean’s old pickup, you were probably five, max six years old here, little arms hugging each other and Grayson is giving you a big smooch right onto your lips. This was technically your first kiss, if you count the innocent childhood kisses. Back then you had no idea what crushes or love were, you only knew that you liked this silly boy who lived next door and happened to have a clone, as you used to say it. Your feelings for Grayson originate from way back.
“Come on, Y/N! This is one of mom’s favorite,” Cam tells you grinning and you’re annoyed that she and Ethan are enjoying this more than they should while you are probably now as red as a tomato. Glancing over at Grayson you see that he is just standing there, looking nervous maybe? Eyes avoiding to look at you.
“I…”
“She would be so disappointed if this one doesn’t get a recreation!” Ethan nags you and he is such a rat, using Lisa against you. They know you’d do anything for her, she is like a second mother to you, saying no to her has never been an option for you and they know that too well.
You are defeated, so walking over to the truck you just simply hop on the back, trying not to look like you are about to pass out from your nerves. Ethan makes his brother sit next to you and it feels so awkward, you definitely did not think this would ever happen.
“You don’t have to do this because they are blackmailing you with mom,” Grayson whispers to you while Ethan and Cam are busy with setting the camera up.
“It’s fine, really,” you say forcing a smile to your lips, but it’s so not true and he knows it too.
“Okay, so Gray, you just lean in and… go for it,” Ethan laughs as if he is a kid again, talking about kissing like it’s a forbidden thing to even say out loud.
The two of you adjust your position, turning to each other a little before you hug each other like in the photo. Grayson looks deep in your eyes, giving you the chance to bail out, but you just stare back at him, ready to go with whatever is about to happen.
“Okay,” he whispers to himself and before you could even have a second though his lips are on yours.
Your eyes close immediately at the sensation, arms loosening around him, making the hug more comfortable as you let your lips part a little. Far away you hear the camera clicking, but it doesn’t sound real, your heart is beating in your throat and that innocent smooch slowly turns into a real kiss.
“We got it!” Ethan’s voice snaps you out right before it could take a more radical turn. Leaning back your eyes are met with Grayson’s startled face, lips parted, hands still on your waist.
“Great, great,” you mumble awkwardly, hopping off the trunk, out of his arms.
The mood has definitely changed because of the kiss. Ethan and Cam start teasing the two of you about it, but you just try to shrug it off while forcing yourself to forget what it felt like to have his lips on yours, because the more you think about it the more you crave another kiss… and another one… and another one…
It seems like Grayson wants to say something, or this is what you see in his eyes, but he keeps quiet on the way back to the Dolan house. Cam invites you to stay over for a movie while Ethan edits the pictures and you accept it. Arriving back to the house you are wandering inside feeling distant and dizzy when a hand slides into yours and pulls you back before you could walk inside.
“Wait,” Grayson keeps you back and you turn to him with a puzzled look. “Can we…”
“Just take her to your room, Gray!” Ethan shouts from the front porch with the most annoying grin on his face.
“Shut up!” he snaps back at his brother. “Come with me,” he nods at you and he pulls you towards the quads.
“Where are you going?” Ethan calls after the two of you.
“Where you are not there to be an asshole!” Gray retorts making you laugh. You hop on the quad behind him. “Hold on tight, Tootsie,” he chuckles as you wrap your arms around his waist.
You have absolutely no idea where you are heading, you’re just enjoying the ride, face pressed against his broad back, feeling the muscles moving under your cheek every time he takes a turn.
When he stops and you look around you immediately recognize the place. The little abandoned patio you found about a decade ago in the woods still stands, vines and plans have taken over it, the wood looks like it would give up if a harsh wind blew through it, but it still looks like a magical place. It was you secret place with Grayson, you came her often when you both wanted to escape from home, just sat on the dirty floor and watched the sky through the cracks of the roof of the patio.
“I can’t believe it’s still here,” you chuckle walking closer while Grayson turns the quad off behind you.
“Yeah, looks deadly though,” he comments scoffing.
“Probably been through a lot,” you smile back at him. “What are we doing here?”
Hopping off the quad he walks towards you pulling his phone out of his pocket with a nervous, but excited smirk on his face.
“I wanted to recreate one more picture.”
He hands you his phone, a photo from about five years ago shown on the screen. You both were just teenagers, the phone was put to the ground on a timer and the two of you sat in front of it in the patio, laughing carefree, he had an arm around your shoulders and you were leaning into him. It was just a random day you spent out in the woods when Ethan had a doctor’s appointment and Lisa asked Grayson to stay over at ours while they are not home. You wandered in the woods for hours and of course ended up at the patio.
“You want to recreate this?” you ask with a smile, looking up at him as you hand him back his phone.
“Yeah,” he nods with a shy smile.
“Let’s do this.”
He sets his phone up the same way as you sit on the floor in the patio, waiting for him to join you. He thuds arriving next to you as the timer counts back from ten. Swinging an arm around your shoulders you look him in the eyes as you lean at him.
The urge to kiss him is back, you want to feel his lips again so bad, but you don’t know if you should. The counter reaches the end and the phone snaps the picture, but neither of you moves.
“We should have laughed,” you whisper, feeling like his eyes are locked on yours, not letting you look anywhere else but him.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Should we make another picture then?” he asks and starts leaning closer.
“I guess,” you breathe out right before his lips meet yours.
It’s so much more than the one you shared earlier on the trunk. This kiss is real, full of lust and longing, not something kids would share, but you are not kids anymore. Cupping his face in your hands you try to get as close to him as possible, pushing yourself to his lap and he falls back to the ground pulling you with him. You share a laugh, rolling around in the dirt, Grayson getting on top of you, kissing you again and again and you don’t want this moment to end.
“Sixteen year-old Grayson would be so proud of me now,” he smirks against your lips.
“What?” you smile at him pushing him a little back so you can look into his eyes.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you here so many times, I can’t even count.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Like the day the photo was taken. I was just a chicken and I thought you didn’t like me back.”
“I did. I still do,” you smile, brushing his hair out of his face but it keeps falling back.
“Sorry for earlier.”
“What do you mean?”
“The kiss on the pickup. They just wanted to urge me to do something because they are done with my pining after you.”
“What? It was all a setup?”
“Yeah,” he chuckles and rolling off you he sits up and you push yourself up as well. “Ethan planned it all out, hoping I would finally do something if I’m forced to kiss you, but I honestly thought you wouldn’t agree to take the picture.”
“But I did.”
“Yes you did,” he chuckles and reaching over he tugs a strand of hair behind your ear that escaped from your piggy tails. “Want to know something funny?”
“Mhm.” Nodding you scoot closer and kiss his lips softly, just because now you can.
“Remember how fussy Ethan used to get when you’d only ride with me on the quad?”
“Yeah. Like a baby,” you chuckle.
“That was because he used to have a crush on you too.”
“What?” Your eyes widen as you stare back at him. “He did not!”
“Yes he did,” he laughs. “We had a fight over this, because he didn’t know I liked you. But then I told him and he realized he has no chance.”
“How did he just realize it? What do you mean?”
Looking away from you he seems nervous to answer you and you give him time. You know he is going to share it with you.
“He said that… He has no chance, because he just likes you while I… I love you.”
Oh how long you’ve been craving to hear those words from him! And now it’s reality, not just a daydream in your mind. Leaning closer you kiss him, sweet and slow, taking your time with him.
“I loved you too. I still do,” you smile at him and wrapping his arms around you he pulls you down with him back to the floor kissing you all over and over again.
When you return to the house about an hour later Ethan and Cameron come out running to the front porch the moment you hop off the quad, clearly waiting for something holding their breath.
You don’t say a word, just try to hide your smile while Grayson gets off the quad too and stepping next to you he laces his fingers together with you. The moment this happens Ethan and Cam starts screaming and shouting, running to you and jumping all over the two of you.
“FINALLY! YES!”
“ABOUT FUCKING TIME!”
“Oh my god, guys!” Grayson chuckles showing his siblings off to give us some space to breathe, but you don’t mind their enthusiasm. It’s cute that they were rooting for you so bad.
Lisa appears on the front porch, confused about all the noise, but then she sees as Grayson pulls you to his side, kissing the top of your head and she immediately knows what’s happening.
“You’re not joking, right?!” she gasps walking down the stairs.
“No, mom. It’s serious,” Grayson chuckles shyly and as his mom finally reaches you she embraces both of you in a tight hug, laughing happier than you’ve probably ever heard her.
“Finally! I’ve been waiting for this to happen for so long!”
“Mom!” Grayson whines, but you find it so sweet.
“We all did, Lisa,” you admit chuckling.
She invites you all inside for dinner and you gladly join. What happened today didn’t change anything in the dynamic you shared with them. Dinner is just as heartfelt and fun like it always is, or even better. When you’re done eating you all go into the living room and watch the little slideshow Ethan put together from the photos, laughing so much on both the old and new ones.
Today surely started as a day of old memories, but the new ones you’ve made are way better than any other you’ve made with your favorite siblings, especially one of them.
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kelyon · 3 years
Text
Golden Rings 27/30: A Cabin
The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs
Belle and Rumple celebrate being together
Read on AO3
Belle opened her eyes and looked out into the land without magic. The air was crisp and cool. This part of the world looked like her old home--with mountains and trees and a soft pink sunset. It reminded her of the forest near Rumple’s castle, where she used to ride Philippe. New leaves were growing, tender and bright on the branches of trees. Life was beginning again. It was spring, after the longest winter she’d ever known.  
After their kiss, Belle huddled for a moment in the comfort of Rumple’s arms. Slowly, she looked up at his face. Without magic, he had a new body, and new eyes. These eyes didn’t shift from demonic black to dazzling gold, but had settled somewhere in the middle. He was an ordinary man, but still her wonderful husband. Rumple’s eyes were brown now--a rich, dark shade, like fertile earth or polished wood.
He was beautiful.
She rested her head against his shoulder. The tip of her nose brushed against his lower lip. They breathed together for a moment. 
The enormity of everything that had happened washed over Belle. For three months in the old world, she had lived as a refugee in Snow White’s castle while her husband was imprisoned in a dank dungeon. For twenty-eight years, the curse had been in full force, and Belle had known nothing. Then seven months of slowly becoming aware of herself in Storybrooke. Seven months of living in a waking dream where she’d had no control over her own body, where she’d had no choice but to watch Lacey hurt herself and be hurt.
With that in mind, she stepped away from Rumple, then punched him in the arm. 
There wasn’t much force--Belle didn’t have much force to begin with. And she didn’t really want to hurt Rumple. But her husband was a man who spent so much time in his head that often a physical sensation was the best way to bring him back to reality. 
He rubbed his arm through his suit jacket and looked at her, brows furrowed more in bewilderment than pain. “I’m sure I deserved that, but why?”
Belle went back to him. She held his face in her hands and kissed him firmly on the lips. “You adorable idiot,” she smiled. “You are the most brilliant man in any world, but there are some things that you never seem to understand.”
He returned her kiss, let her nuzzle into his neck. “Like what?”
“Like how much power you have to hurt the women who love you.”
He held her by the shoulders. “Oh, Belle, I’m sorry--”
“Not me,” she shook her head. “Lacey.”
Rumple opened his mouth, then closed it again, lips pressed together. “I should know who that is, shouldn’t I?”
Sighing, Belle pressed in against her husband. “I knew Gold never used her name,” she said. “I didn’t realize he didn’t know it.”
Rumple’s shoulders went slack. “Oh,” he said. “No, he never thought of her that way, as a person, as anything other than Mrs. Gold.” He sighed. “And I wasn’t much better, was I?”
She squeezed her husband’s hand. “No, Rumple. You were better than Gold. But Lacey needed you, and you… weren’t there for her.”
He hung his head. “I was too preoccupied with thinking of you.”
“I know,” Belle said. “And she knew. Did you know for a while she thought that you were in love with Jefferson? She thought he was me.”
Rumple grimaced. “I did sleep with him, while you were... gone.”
“Yes, Lacey was very upset about that. That was why she went to Regina.”
His grip tightened on her hand. “Did Mrs.--Lacey--did she really offer herself to her?”
As she thought about Lacey--her loneliness, her sorrows, her self-loathing so strong that all she wanted was someone else to hate her and to punish her for existing--Belle’s stomach turned. That poor girl!
“Such a topsy-turvy world,” she whispered. “My worst nightmare became her dream. And Regina would have exploited Lacey’s desires. She would have hurt her in every way it’s possible to hurt a person.” She looked up at Rumple. “Except that you protected us. With our rings.”
Belle still had her ring in her fist. Lacey’s dress didn’t have pockets, and she’d left her clutch back at the shop. She’d been carrying the ring and the dagger since they’d parked the car over by the cabin. Poor Lacey hadn’t been ready to put the ring back on, but Belle never wanted to take it off again. She set the dagger on the ground, then held out both hands to Rumple.
He took the ring from her right hand, and gently slid it onto the finger of her left. Then he bent his head, and kissed the gold against her flesh. 
“I should have done more,” he said as he rubbed her hand between his fingers. “I wasn’t sure how much magic it would take. To keep us together, to keep Regina from harming you. I knew we would be miserable, but I didn’t want you to suffer the way everyone else here was going to suffer.”
Belle let out a breathy chuckle. “Well, you did that much. Lacey’s suffering was certainly unique.”
Her husband turned away, he dropped her hand and shook his head. 
She reached out to him, turned him back to her. “You did your best, Rumple. That’s all anyone can ever do. And it’s all over now. Emma broke the curse. We’re here. We’re together.” She took both of his hands in her own and clutched them tightly. “We can start looking for Baelfire!”
“Yes,” he whispered. He looked so fragile, so touched. Had he thought she’d forgotten about his son? Didn’t he know that the hope of finding Baelfire, of reuniting their family, had become her great mission as well as his?
“You have magic now, Rumple.” He had set the glass vial on the ground next to the dagger. The sparkly pink contents within were neither liquid nor gas, but something in between. Something like smoke, but more substantial. She picked up both items. The dagger was lifeless, but a strong tingle of magic came through the vial. “What do you plan to do with it?”
He drew her close, took the vial, and kissed her again. When they broke apart, he began to walk toward the clearing, to the wishing well.
I used to come up here for picnics with Mom. On slow summer days when Dad could handle the shop on his own. We threw quarters down the well and made wishes. I was young enough to think they’d come true.
Belle heard Lacey’s voice in her head, as distinctly as Lacey once heard hers. But Belle understood what was happening. She understood Lacey’s memories, could see them the way her other self remembered them. Belle had a vision of her mother--the noblewoman Lady Collette--as Linda Woolverton French in torn jeans and a faded yellow button-down, lifting Lacey up by the armpits so she could reach over the edge of the wishing well to release her coin.
She always wished that her life would be a fairy tale. 
Now, when Belle joined her husband by the stone edge of the well, she didn’t make a wish. Rumple always said that wishing is wanting something without putting in the work to get it, without being aware that all magic comes at a price. But for this, Rumple had put in the work. He had paid prices again and again. He had devoted more time to ensuring this moment than any mortal man had spent on any task. 
Belle held her breath as he uncorked the vial and let the magic waft out into the air. She didn’t wish, but she did hope as Rumple opened his hand and let the vial fall into the mystical waters below. 
She shivered, and it was not entirely because of the cool spring evening and Lacey’s skimpy black dress. That morning she had been so deliberate about how she’d dressed herself. She’d been trying to impress Regina with real silk stockings and a matching set of black lingerie. Poor Lacey hadn’t thought of herself as much more than a hanger to put expensive clothes on. 
They didn’t have to wait long for the magic. 
She felt it in the dagger first. Even after a year of being married to Rumple and claiming the dagger and the Dark One as her own, Belle still didn’t have words to describe the power she wielded. It was like a life, but not. Something that consumed and created, but had only a limited will of its own. She felt the blade absorbing the magic, then felt it thrum with a power very different from the True Love potion.
It’s like a computer, Lacey supplied. It can do amazing things, but only once it’s turned on. What he’s doing now--it’s like we were in a blackout and he’s bringing back the juice. 
Belle had only a hazy understanding of computers or electricity, so she deferred to Lacey. But there was no question that Rumple was bringing magic into Storybrooke. 
The wisps of solid smoke that had emanated from the vial now billowed and darkened. It grew with alarming speed. First a plume of heavy purple smoke spewed up from the well and onto the forest floor. Then the magic expanded, up to the trees and out into the air. Rolling down the mountains and toward the harbor, it covered the town like a fog. The dagger in Belle’s hand pulsed and throbbed with the influx of power. Beside her, Rumpelstiltskin dug his hand into the flesh of her waist. 
He was holding her. In the midst of this storm of magic, his strongest impulse was to hold on to her. 
For a moment, there was nothing in the world but purple smoke. She couldn’t see or hear or feel, but she was not afraid. She breathed in magic with the air. She felt it settle onto her skin. She stayed still, and let herself be at peace. This was Rumple’s magic. She had nothing to fear. 
When the smoke cleared, the world without magic looked much as it had before. If it weren’t for the dagger’s slow but steady pulse in her hand, she might have thought that nothing had changed.     
“How will we know?” she whispered. “How strong is the magic? How will it take effect? Can you feel it, Rumple?”
Her husband had his eyes closed. He flexed his fingers, twitched his hands. He breathed deeply of this new air. “I feel… something,” he said softly. “It’s definitely magic, but it’s different. New magic for a new world.”
“You’ll want to study it.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. Of course getting here was just the first step. Of course there was still work to be done. They had come to this world to find Baelfire, that’s what Rumple would be thinking about. It was enough that she was back. It was enough that she would get to be near him, that they could work together toward their goal. It was enough that they were reunited, of course it was. 
And yet, Belle couldn’t keep from hoping that they might have had a little time for a proper reunion. Even discounting the twenty-eight years of the curse, it had been a long time since they had both been together and safe and in their right minds. The craving for her husband burned deep and hot in her belly. But as much as she wanted intimacy, she could respect Rumple’s dedication to the task ahead of them. 
Turning to face her, Rumple ran his hand from her shoulder, down her arm, and to the dagger in her hand. The thrumming had lessened, but if she concentrated, she could still feel the almost-life of it. The dagger had always connected the two of them. The powers and limitations of the Dark One were a part of him, the part over which he had given her complete control.
“There is a simple test we can try.” His voice was dark and husky. Was he reacting to the magic? Or was it desire? Did there have to be a difference? “If you want to, sweetheart.”
They stood close to each other, but there were times when they could never be close enough. She looked up at him. “What did you have in mind?”
Now his hand stroked her hair. He nuzzled his nose into her curls. “Will you give me an order, my love?” His voice rumbled, deep in his chest. “Will you use the dagger on me, mistress?”
Oh, fuck.
Belle’s grip tightened around the hilt of the dagger. The burning need inside her flared up, bright and strong. Not only was Belle about to get what she wanted, but she knew that Rumple wanted it too. They were in sync with each other. Their desires were united, as their minds and hearts had always been. As their bodies always wanted to be. 
Shivering, Belle bit her lip and stepped back from her husband. She held the dagger aloft, over her head and pointed into the reddening sky. She looked into his dark, human eyes. She saw the admiration there, the worshipful desire. He looked at her like she was the whole world, and she knew that was how she looked at him. 
Magic flowed into the dagger. The steady pulse of it became more rapid. It fed off of the excitement, the power, the love of this moment. Fed off of it, and amplified it. 
“Rumpelstiltskin.” Belle’s voice was strong and clear as she gave the order: “Take me to bed.”
****
  They were in the cabin so quickly, Belle didn’t have time to register Rumple’s usual wine-red smoke. It didn’t matter. The magic worked. Her dagger, his transportation spell--it had worked! 
His hands were on her. Moving rapidly, trying to cover every inch of her at once. Holding her face and kissing her. Gripping her hair and clutching her back. Cupping and stroking and unzipping every inch of her.
She tried to reciprocate, but only got as far as pushing off his suit coat. He was too fast, too frenzied. She couldn’t move while he was moving. Belle accepted that. For now at least, Rumple was going to act, and she was going to be acted upon. All she had to do was relax and let him do as he liked with her. She would get her turn soon enough.  
“Gods!” he grunted when Lacey’s dress hit the floor. Somehow, there was enough space between them that he could see the sheer black lingerie. “You look very good in these clothes, Belle.”
The cabin wasn’t much more than one long room, with the bed tucked away into a corner behind a folding screen. Groping and fumbling, they had made their way over to it. Belle pushed Rumple onto his back and stood over him. She kept her motions slow, deliberate. It was her turn now, and he would just have to live with it.  
“I feel sexy.” She leaned forward to unbutton his waistcoat and loosen his tie. “I don’t know if I’ve ever felt sexy before.” Getting on the bed, she straddled his legs and began to work at his belt buckle. “We didn’t have that word back home.”
“You were.” Rumple sat up and pulled her close. He trailed a line of biting kisses from her throat to her bra straps. “You were and you are, my love, sexy.” He pulled down her straps and she wiggled her arms free. “And beautiful.” He squeezed her breasts through the thin fabric, rubbing his thumbs over her nipples to make them hard. “And fucking gorgeous.” He pulled down the cups of her bra, putting her breasts on display. 
For a moment he just stared, first at her breasts, and then at her face.
Reaching out, Belle brushed back a lock of his hair. In this world, his hair was smooth and sleek. He leaned into her touch. 
“You are every word that has ever been spoken in any world to describe a perfect woman.” He kissed the palm that touched his face. “You are everything, Belle.”
Giggling like a schoolgirl, Belle shook her head at him. She knew her husband meant what he was saying, but that didn’t make his flattery any less over the top.
In a motion that was as natural as it was strange, Belle reached behind her back and felt for the hooks on her bra. Even though she had never worn this garment before, she was able to take it off with practiced ease. After all, Lacey had been wearing bras for almost half her life. 
Underneath her, Belle felt Rumple’s hips jerk. Sitting up as best he could, he reached out to graze her garter belt, then the silk stockings on her legs. Slowly, he stroked up and down, touching the fabric as well as her flesh. Delicately, his fingers traced the outline of her satiny black panties. 
Their eyes met and locked. Through the windows, the setting sun bathed them both in a rosy glow. 
She touched his face again. He looked different, but felt the same. A hint of prickly stubble, warm skin over lean flesh and strong bones. He was a joy to have in her hands. 
“Rumple,” she murmured.
“Belle,” he answered. 
For a moment, it was all they could say. For a moment, it was all they could think. They had spent so long apart--apart from each other and apart from themselves. She had spent so much time being Lacey. And Lacey had spent so much time being Mrs. Gold. Rumple had been cursed to be Gold--a cruel man, an enemy of love, so many things he had learned to become better than.
But now they were themselves. And now they were together. 
They kissed again. Belle fell onto the bed, and they lay side by side. He buried his hands in her hair while she pulled his shirt over his head. And then his undershirt. Finally, she could touch the warm, smooth expanse of his chest.
“And I thought you had layers back home!”
He chuckled, and tossed the clothes onto the floor. “At least I don’t need magic to take off these trousers.”
Rumple had to stand up to remove his pants. Belle took the opportunity to shimmy out of her underwear. 
“Stockings on or off?” she asked him.
“Off,” he breathed. He stood over her body at the foot of the bed. “Tonight I want it to be just us, sweetheart. I want to feel every inch of your skin.”
Shivering at the thought, Belle lifted her knees up to her chest so she could unfasten her garters and roll down the silk stockings.
“Was I this flexible in the old world?”
“I think so.” Rumple knelt between her feet on the edge of the bed. “I never noticed any lack of maneuverability before.” He put his hands on her knees and slowly opened her thighs. “You were always perfect.”
“Lacey did yoga sometimes, maybe that’s it. She wanted to stay limber for--” 
Belle stopped herself from saying Gold’s name. It would hurt Rumple, to be reminded of that. He wasn’t that man anymore, he didn’t want to think of himself that way. 
He had noticed her hesitation. There was silence between her legs. The sun had mostly set now, and Rumple was in shadow. The brightest light in the cabin was her own body, pale against the dark bedclothes.
With one hand, Rumple held her bent leg. He braced himself against her, rested his head on her thigh. His other hand slowly reached up to cover her pubic mound. It was only when he touched her skin that she realized what he was seeing. 
Lacey always shaved and waxed, because Gold had ordered her to. He told her her body hair was filthy and disgusting. He made her get rid of every flaw he could imagine, and then mocked her for wasting time and money trying. He starved her, and made her starve herself--of food, of dignity, of any sense of worth. He made her cut herself down to suit him. Smaller and smaller, until she was nothing. Nothing but what he wanted her to be. Mrs. Gold was a fucktoy, not a person--and that was how poor Lacey had thought she would find happiness.     
That was what Rumple saw, when he looked at her body now.
“Darling.” She stroked his head. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“If not myself, then who?” He spoke through gritted teeth. On either side of her, Belle could feel his hands twisting in the sheets.
“Regina,” she answered firmly. “And Gold. But neither of them are here right now. We are. I am. Rumple, I’m here, and I love you. And I want you to show me that this is a body worth loving.”
He raised his head against her leg. “Oh, Belle,” he whispered. 
“Lacey never got that from him,” she said. “She was never good enough for love, no matter what she did. If you want to be different from Gold, Rumple, show us that we’re good enough.”
He took a moment to understand her words. Belle could feel him figuring out what she wanted, and how he could give it to her. When he moved, she knew that he had made a decision.
“My Belle.” He placed a tender kiss to the inside of her thigh. Then he did the same with the other. “My Lacey.”
Oh God!
Inside Belle’s head, Lacey had begun to cry. They were tears of joy and of pain, the overwhelming force of the getting of a dream so long deferred. For twenty-eight years, Lacey had fucked a man who didn’t love her. But now she was getting the love she needed. Rumple was finally treating her, not the way she thought she needed, but the way she truly deserved. 
Rumple put his mouth on her, soft and warm, ever conscious of how fragile she was, how sensitive.
Mr. Gold did eat me out, Lacey said. But never like this. Never sweet, never like it was something just for me.
Belle hugged her arms tightly, hoping that somehow Lacey would feel it too.
“Rumple,” she whimpered. “Does Lacey taste good?”
Shuddering, he rose up out of her wetness. She felt his panting breath on her flesh. “Yes,” he said. “Lacey tastes wonderful.”
“Do you like eating her out?”
He placed a kiss on her bare cleft. “I love eating you out, sweetheart. I love bringing you pleasure, my darling.” He lowered his head and went back to his work. “My wife.”
Raising her legs over Rumple’s shoulders, she pressed her heels into his back. He delved into her, drank down everything she had to offer. He loved it all. He loved her! 
 She moaned and writhed while Rumple took her. His mouth was ravenous and frenzied. His hands dug into her thighs, holding on to her. His tongue and his nose pushed in, deeper and deeper, working her through one orgasm and then another. 
“Rumple!” Belle’s body convulsed, rose up, and then collapsed. She lay on the bed, limp and boneless.
Rumple climbed up to join her. She couldn’t see him, but she knew the expression that would be on his face: Cocky, and pleased with himself, full of the satisfaction of a job well done. 
“I love you,” she panted.
He leaned over her body. She tasted herself on his kiss. “I love you, Belle. And I hope I made something up to Lacey.”
Belle gave out a breathless chuckle. “If you had done that to her even once, she’d have been too in love with you to question anything.”
He squeezed her arm. “Do you really think she could have loved me?”
Belle pulled herself up to lean on her elbows. “Rumple, she did. Gold was a monster and she was as in love with him as she was afraid of him.” She stroked his face. “Once you stopped making her afraid, that space could have been filled up with more love.”
“Instead of just resentment because she knew I was in love with you.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers. 
“Well, I’m not going to fault you for loving me.” Belle smiled and drew him down to her chest. “And I understand why you couldn’t tell Lacey.”
“And I couldn’t do what Gold did to her. It isn’t like when we play--”
“I know,” Belle kissed his forehead. “I remember all of that too.” She held him close, stroked him soothingly. “I’m not going to fault you for wanting to be better than him. You did everything you knew to be right at the time. You are good, Rumple. I promise.”
He sighed. “I would have been better, if you were with me.”
“Well, that was the curse. To keep us separated from the people we loved, to keep us from being our best selves.”
“Lacey became a better person, I think. As the curse wore on.”
“Lacey had you.” Belle was ready to open her legs again. “It’s not just me, Rumple. You can make people better too.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said as he rolled her over with his kisses. 
He positioned himself on top of her. Did it feel like coming home for him, too? Belle remembered the early days of her deal with Dark One, how he had always come to her in darkness, how he had kept her from seeing him. Rumple had tried to keep her from knowing him, but she had been too curious. 
And now he was hers. And now she was his. 
He spread her sopping folds apart, but paused before he entered her. “Was Lacey still taking birth control?”
Belle tried to think. “She might have given up on it, what with… everything. She doesn’t remember the last time she went to the pharmacy.”
“Good.” Rumple pulled her up and kissed her again. It was a deep, sucking kiss, triumphant. His joy lasted until he broke apart. “I mean, if you want to. I know we talked about children before, but--”  
“Rumple!” She kissed him now, just as furious and loving as he had to her. “Yes, I want your children. This world is safe for them, and if it isn’t we will make it safe. I trust you, Rumpelstiltskin. I want babies with you, and a home, and long evenings of talking to you and drinking tea. I want a future with you, Rumple. But what I want most of all, right now, is your motherfucking cock!” 
“Fuck.” 
It was an almost involuntary sound as he thrust into her. Belle spread her legs wider, so she could feel him, so she could welcome him. Their bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. His cock in her cunt, her legs around his waist. Their hands laced together as he plowed into her, again and again and again.
Fucking was the first thing they had ever done together--a lifetime ago, in a dungeon in another world. He had made her golden cuffs out of straw and magic and their mutual pleasure. That was all they’d had at first. Now they had golden rings. Now they had each other. And soon, in this new world, they would have so much more. 
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staceysonier · 4 years
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Little Red (MxF) *SFW* Part 1
*Gnoll Boyfriend!*
*Little Red Riding Hood~ish*
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I remembered playing in the woods behind my grandmother's property when I was a little girl. There was this little dog-like creature that I played with--and though my 18-year-old brain has forgotten what his name was, I assume now that he was a wolf, a pup, and I thank God that I never met his parents because I surely would've been torn to pieces.
For some reason, I remember him running with me, but on his hind legs--like that was something that wolves did.
We only played when I went to my grandmothers and that wasn't but maybe once or twice a week, and then as I got older, it turned into once or twice a month and then once or twice a year...
Until I stopped going altogether.
And as my grandmother got older and none of her children or her grandchildren went out to her small clearing in the forest, the grass grew tall again, the trees and vines and poisonous plants invaded and it had been almost impossible to get to her by car.
"You have to go, Blanchette," my mother insisted with tears in her eyes after receiving a letter from a doctor who lived around my grandmother.
I huffed because I hated that name and I also didn't want to give up a whole weekend away from my friends just to go trudge through the woods to find out that my grandmother was fine and just as crazy as she had always been.
Remembering when I used to go stay the weekend with her, I recall her telling me of all of the creatures in the woods, the guardians and the monsters alike who would either help or hinder me depending on who I came across so I should stay close to the treeline.
There had only been one time that I got too far away and needed help and that's when I met my dog-like friend.
I scoffed quietly at the rambunctious imagination I had when I was a child.
"Fine," I huffed and went back upstairs to pack.
Going through my closet, I began to pick out the things that seemed the warmest as it wasn't snowing yet but it was still rather chilly out and I could only imagine what the temperature would be like in the woods.
Once I had a small bag packed, I stomped down the stairs and into the kitchen to tell my mother goodbye and that it was nice knowing her.
"Don't be so dramatic, Blanche, I'm sure it'll be fine. The animals stay away from your grandmother's house and if you leave now, you'll be able to make it there with enough light to actually get through the woods and to her house. I love you," she ushered me out of the back door and toward the carport.
"Yeah, yeah," I grumbled but sat down in the driver's seat and turned the key in the ignition.
I was just about to pull out of the driveway when my mother came running out of the house and toward my car. I kept my foot on the brake but rolled down my window as she ran up to it with a piece of red fabric that billowed behind her and what looked to be a picnic basket.
"Here," she huffed out of breath before shoving the material and the basket through the window, "This is that red cloak your grandmother made you for Christmas a few years ago, you remember? Wear it when you see her and maybe it'll cheer her up. And that basket has cookies in it, they are her favorite so none of you!"
I threw both into my passenger seat and nodded, "Yeah, mom. I'll see you later."
"Be safe," she cried as she watched me back out of the driveway, her hand raised high in farewell.
***
I left at 2:30 and grandmother's house was a three-hour drive, plus the 20 to 30-minute walk it would take to get through the woods to her house.
It was now about 5:45 and the sun was starting to set over the treeline as I parked my car at the end of the dirt--now overgrown grass-- road that led to my grandmother's house.
I grumbled as I grabbed the red cloak and threw it on before grabbing the picnic basket and my bag out of the back and hoisting it over my shoulder.
Locking my doors and making sure--twice--I placed my keys in one of the side mesh pockets of my bag and began my trek through the woods.
It wasn't cold, per se, but when the wind picked up, it was freezing so I placed the hood of the cloak over my head and bundled the cloak around me as I walked through the almost darkened woods.
And not even ten minutes into my walk up the trail and I started hearing things past the tree line.
It was a branch breaking here and there until it turned into what sounded like a cackling laugh--reminding me of a hyena--in the distance.
I grumbled as I pulled the cloak tighter around me, trying to protect myself but a huge gust of wind sent my hood flying back and the sides of the cloak billowing open.
"Fuck," I yelled as the cold air stung my cheeks but then all at once, it settled down, allowing me to replace the hood and tighten the cloak around me once more.
"You're back," I heard whispered just off to the side, past the treeline and into the darkness.
I quickly turned to the voice and held the basket of cookies in front of me for protection.
"Who's there," I called, straining my eyes into the darkness until I saw two glowing eyes and I gasped.
"You don't remember me, Chette," the voice whispered and it was closer.
I whimpered as a big mass stepped closer but still not out of the darkness. I could make out the huge frame but nothing more.
"How am I supposed to remember something I can't even see," I asked but listened to my voice tremble.
Was I dead? Did I die in an accident and this was some sort of hell or purgatory?
Or was I hallucinating?
"I would come out but I look different from the last time we saw each other," the voice rose above a whisper, but not by much and it didn't sound like anything I remembered.
"When was the last time we saw each other," I asked curiously but was still terrified that this might be some ploy for this...thing to kill me.
I heard the thing chuckled lowly, "You were a few years younger than you are now, the last time I saw you, but the last time we spoke, you were eight--just a little thing, as I was."
Racking my brain from around the time I was eight and coming here to my grandmother's property, when I finally remembered, I gasped.
"My wolf-dog friend thing," I stumbled through my words as I felt comfort from the memories I had with him.
He cackled, reminding me of a hyena, like the ones I had heard in the distance.
"You wound me, Chette. I told you back then what I was, what my family was. Think hard, love."
I whimpered and shut my eyes to pinpoint any discernible memory and not just a vague montage of happiness.
My eyes popped open with something that was on the tip of my tongue, "You're a...a troll?"
He laughed again, "No, but close. I'm a Gnoll."
"Oh," I blushed as I remembered now, "Tazzimo, right?"
"I go by Tazz now," he said lowly and he still hadn't stepped out yet so I moved forward.
"Don't come any closer, Chette. You wouldn't like what you saw. I'm afraid I don't look like the cub you last saw."
I stopped in my tracks and looked to the path again.
"Have you seen my grandmother, Tazz," I asked quietly, "Do you know if she's doing okay?"
"Hmm," he hummed, "Why don't you go and see. It's getting late and I don't want you out here at dark."
The memory I had of him when we were younger comforted me but his deep voice and the mass of darkness I saw beyond the treeline had me breathless.
"Go," he barked, causing me to flinch but I did as he said and began walking up the trail again until I finally made it to my grandmother's little run-down house.
Stepping onto the front porch, I looked out into the trees to see if Tazz had followed but all I saw was blackness as the sun was almost fully gone now.
I turned around and took a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door.
"One moment," I heard my grandmother sing from the other side.
"Well, at least she's not dead," I muttered and listened to her unlock the deadbolt and then pull the door open.
She gasped and then pulled me into a hug, "Chetty-spaghetti, you're here! What are you doing here," she asked as she pulled back.
"Mom was worried," I answered and gave her the basket I had been holding.
"She sent these. She said they were your favorites."
"Oh, goody," she cried and ushered me inside her house and shut the door.
Her house was still how I remembered it--warm, cozy, and comforting.
Quilts and cross-stitchings were placed all over--finished and not--and it smelled like how it used to--causing my mouth to water.
"Is that--"
"--Chicken and dumplings," she asked with a sly smile, "It sure is. I was wondering why all of a sudden I got a hankering for it! I should've known you were coming... It's just been so long..."
I hung my head in shame and nodded, "I'm sorry, grandma, but I'm here now and I'm staying the weekend with you if that's okay?"
She pulled me into another hug and kissed my head, "Of course, it is, dear. Your room is how you left it, sweetheart. Make yourself at home and have as much of dinner as you can stand."
"I'll get fatter than I already am," I grumbled and tried not to think about the pounds I needed to lose in time to look great during summer.
"Oh, you hush now, Chetty! You're plump like all of the women in our family are and there's nothing wrong with that. I'll let you know when it becomes a problem," she winked and sent me down the hall to my old room.
***
We ate dinner together by the fireplace and just taking the first bite...
"Ugh," I groaned and my eyes rolled back.
"That good, huh," she asked and when I looked at her, she was smirking, "Never knew my cooking could do that to someone."
I blushed but took another bite.
"It's just that I've missed your cooking. There's just nothing like it, not even moms! And I missed it here...and I missed you too, Grandma. I'm sorry I haven't been coming around but..."
"Oh, pish-posh, my love. it's all water under the bridge now. I know you're growing up and you're now in college. I couldn't have exactly expected you to keep coming out here like you had when you were younger... Though I know I wasn't the only one who missed you..."
I gasped softly and looked at her but her eyes were down and looking into her bowl.
"Who, Grandma? Who missed me," I asked, trying to see if she would say who I thought she would.
Her eyes met mine and I saw them twinkle in the light of the fire, "You know who, Blanchette. He's asked about you here and there...and, boy, has he grown up. He's definitely not as...small...as he was when you two used to play together."
"We're talking about Tazz, aren't we," I asked softly and watched her nod.
"So, all the stories you used to tell me...all the guardians and wood spirits and monsters--good and bad--its all real," and she nodded again.
"I'm not in the business of lying, Chette," she said and smiled and then her face fell.
"Your mother used to love it out here. She had friends just like you did. She played with any and all who would play with her...but like you, she forgot as she got older and when she would hear me telling you my stories about what's really out there, she would chastise me and call me a crazy old woman, but she remembers. Deep down, she remembers."
I was quiet for a moment before speaking up again.
"Did...did mom have a 'Tazz'?"
And I watched Grandma smiled and nodded, "Bazz, Tazz's dad, but Bazz couldn't wait forever for a woman who wasn't going to come back so he...met one of his kind and had children--as your mother did."
I smiled at the thought that mom had loved Tazz's dad, just as I loved--love--Tazz. I wondered what her life would be like if she had come back to Bazz after finishing school. She had met my dad in college and bought a house with him when they graduated...
But all I could think about was what she could've had if she had just come back.
"Don't forget again, Chette," My grandma's voice cut through my thoughts and I focused on her.
"Don't forget about Tazz. Don't miss out on a love that could change your life. Because like his dad, Tazz won't be able to wait forever...he waited until now but only because I kept telling him to wait for me to find a way to get you out here."
I gasped and smiled, "Did you forge that doctor's note? How did you know mom would send me out here instead of coming herself?"
"She's scared of what she'll come back to so she won't come out here unless she necessarily has to. Some part of her remembers and is afraid to face up to the past," she shrugged and stood up but not before taking my bowl to bring to the kitchen.
"I'll be putting the food away and then going to bed. I suggest you do the same. You remember how rowdy it can get at night around here, don't you," she called out.
"Yeah, I remember," I smiled and headed to my room to get settled in before the nighttime crowd came out.
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lewis-winters · 3 years
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(gif by @lyselkatzfandomluvs)
oh? me? writing about single dad!lewis who is a disaster human being but a good dad to a precocious little girl named Bea who adores him but at the same time thinks her daddy is the silliest person to ever exist?
you bet your ASS i am.
anyway, here have this headcanon list:
Bea is Lew's little girl from a one night stand. her mom didn't want to abort, but she didn't want to keep her, either. Lew considered putting her up for adoption, but the second the doctors let him hold her he knew that that just wasn't an option.
at that point, Lew never really knew what love was. not really. but looking down at that lil bundle in his arms that resembled more a bean than human, he decided then and there that that is exactly what true love feels like.
Bea is AMAB and has always known she was a girl. Lew always indulged her, especially when she finally learned how to talk and walk and have opinions. if Bea said she wanted to wear a dress or play with dolls or grow out her hair, he'd let her and he'd sass down anybody that let her feel like she couldn't. bc of that, Bea never thought that she was anything but a girl for ages.
i mean, the only thing she truly hated was her name. bc it was a boy's name and was therefore very ugly.
when she was four, she told Lew and everybody that would listen that she wanted to be called Beatrix-with-an-X instead of the name they gave her. she heard it on tv one day and loved it so much, she just decided to use it and that was that.
I wouldn't say Lew didn't have his moments of crisis over it-- he had a whole paradigm shift, and he definitely had to read up some stuff and talk to people, but he never let Bea know it. that's his baby girl. and he loves her. he'd never forgive himself if he'd ever let her feel otherwise.
he calls her BumbleBea on a regular basis, but in his head and when referring to her to anybody else, he calls her Little Miss Nixon
occassionally Little Miss Hypochondriac if she's being particularly fussy that day
bc Bea is VERY fussy
she's under the belief that her daddy doesn't take care of himself very much. she is right. Lew does not like to admit it.
she prepares his vitamins and reminds him to drink water and eat his veggies
they take care of each other a lot
Lew makes sure Bea does her homework and is polite and gets dressed real nice and is making the right friends
Bea makes sure Lew remembers to brush his teeth or eat breakfast or drink water or dress up warm during the winter
their little mantra in the morning is--
Lew: Be good, but if you need to be bad--
Bea: Don't get caught!
Bea also understands sarcasm a bit too well for a baby child
Lew says it's the natural Nixon gene. Blanche says it's bc Bea spends way too much time with Lew.
Bea calls Lew two things: Daddy, on the regular, and Dada when she wants to be cuddled or carried or held or comforted
Lew has NO idea why she does, but every time he hears her call him Dada while holding out her arms in a silent request to be picked up, he melts into a puddle
George, Lew's old college buddy and Bea's godfather, and Blanche are her regular babysitters. she loves them both so much but she definitely loves Blanche more because when she's with Aunt Blanche she gets presents
George treats her like a mini adult, which just kinda reinforces why she's so fluent in sarcasm to begin with or why she's half as mischievous as she is.
Bea is a morning person. Lew is a night owl. when Bea was a baby, this was definitely a problem, bc she'd have Lew running to her side at 3 am, so much so that he just moved her bassinet to his room and then just little by little let her migrate to his bed and let her serve as his alarm clock.
but when she started to walk and talk and become big enough to do things on her own, they've come up with a system where she'd get up, try her best to make Lew coffee, then wake him up with kisses
the coffee is never good but Lew swallows it down anyway
Lew is very good at braiding hair for some reason
Bea always did say that her Daddy is fit to be a stay at home husband bc he keeps track of their household stuff better than his at work stuff
Lew doesnt work at the plant-- Stanhope didn't like the name Beatrix, let's just say. Lewis told him to go fuck himself. thankfully before doing that, he saved enough money to sustain him and Bea until he could find a job. also, he has a group of very good friends and an amazing sister who stuck by him and Bea, so really, leaving Nixon behind to get a fresh new start in New York with his baby girl was the best decision he has ever made
(Lew always says Bea saved him somehow-- taking care of another human being helped him learn, little by little, how to take care of himself. how to function. he wants to be a better man for Bea, wants to be able to be somebody she's proud of. and by wanting that and doing everything to be that, he's managed to heal himself. day by day. it hasn't been easy. but it has been worth it.)
(he still drinks, though. but never in front of Bea. and never more than a glass. he can't afford to go down that road right now. not with Bea.)
Bea meets Dick first. she's seven years old in a brand new school being run by her dad's college friend and her godmother, Kitty and Dick, fresh from his last tour in Iraq, is there to visit Kitty's boyfriend and fellow teacher, Harry, who is his old college buddy.
Bea likes Mr Winters very much and talks about him to Lew when she gets home
Dick, of course, is easily charmed by this precocious lil girl with an inquisitive nature and an oddly dry sense of humor. He's planning on getting a job in the school's administrative branch so he's there quite a lot. Bea always stops to talk to him, and he never fails to humor her. He rather enjoys her company.
Lew, otoh, is getting very jealous
all Bea can talk about is Mr Winters said this and Mr Winter said that and ooohhh did you know Mr Winters was a soldier? that's pretty cool
Lew has a 9-5 desk job. Bea doesn't think that's very cool.
bc of this, Lew does not like this Mr Winters on principle
All of Bea's godparents (George, Kitty, Lip, and Ron) and her Aunt Blanche think this is hilarious
Everytime Lew sees them, he grumbles about Mr Winters. This, of course, drives Kitty to find a way to introduce them.
so, during during the Parent Teacher Conference, Lew meets Dick. and he finds he does like Mr Winters after all. he likes Mr Winters a lot.
Dick, otoh, sees Bea light up and run into Lew's open arms, giggling when Lew peppers her face with kisses and raspberries, and immediately knows he is very much In Trouble.
Bea, being perceptive as she is, picks up on their mutual crushes on each other and thinks they're meant to be (she's right, of course) and immediately starts trying to push them together.
Bea: Mr Winters, do you like bad boys?
Dick, who most definitely has always had a thing for dark haired, rakish characters with hearts of gold and is also blushing very hard: Uh... sure I do
Bea: Great. Because my daddy is bad at everything.
it becomes Bea's mission to get her daddy and Mr Winters together
she doesn't have a plan for it. she just waits to throw them at each other at every opportunity until something happens.
she's very determined. Lew would stop and admire her ambition if only he wasn't busy fumbling into this new relationship with Dick while also doing his best to be a good dad.
and it's all very cute and fluffy and nothing bad ever happens ever bc this is my au, gdi, and i'm allowed to be as indulgent as i want, thank you.
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Probably crack and a result of staying up way too late, but how do you think an AU where Peter dated and married Naomi instead of Nora would go?
This officially goes on the list of “ships I never considered before, but now that you say it I can kinda see it.”  Peter’s clearly got a competency kink, between Eva and Nora.  Naomi deserves better than Dan.  They’re both overworked single parents who try to do what’s best for their kids, and don’t always succeed.  Peter’s good at the nurturing and hug-giving and supportive side of things, not so much at the day-to-day practicalities.  Naomi’s excellent at making sure everyone is fed and sheltered and keeping up in school, not so much at the touchy-feely stuff.  Yeah, I can see it.
Anyway:
They meet through the PTA, naturally.  Naomi’s there to stage a formal protest about the high school’s suspension of late-bus service, and Peter’s there because this is the once-a-month night out of the house that Marco keeps scheduling for him.  Naomi makes a sarcastic comment about the U.S. government’s idea of “sufficient funding”, Peter jumps in with a one-liner about science grants, and four hours later they’re still companionably trashing the NSF over their third round of bake sale brownies.  Peter makes the first move, of course.  Naomi sets the time, the venue, the curfew, the transportation, and the expectations for the night, of course.
Jake thinks this is the funniest thing that has ever happened to him in his entire life.  The more both Marco and Rachel call him to complain about their respective parents, the funnier he finds it to be.
Both Naomi and Peter are pleasantly surprised at how well their kids get along.  They were both vaguely aware that Marco and Rachel knew each other through school, but neither one is prepared for the instantaneous companionable banter the teenagers fall into the moment Peter first brings Marco over to meet Naomi.
The first four or five times Marco comes around Rachel’s house for dinner, Jordan hides under her hair and watches him in enraptured silence.  After about two months’ worth of this, Rachel drags Marco aside after an Animorphs meeting and has a stern conversation with him.
Neither of them will tell the others what they talk about, even though Ax expresses concern at the brilliant red shade both their faces have taken on and Cassie gives them a knowing smile.  Technically Tobias overhears the whole thing — the others tend to get so caught up in hawk eyes that they forget all about hawk ears — but he’s nice enough to keep his silence.
The next time Marco’s over at Rachel’s house, he lets out a seven-second belch after downing an entire can of Mountain Dew in one go.  Over the next ten minutes, he insults Jordan’s favorite boy band, picks his nose in front of everyone, claims he’s going to die alone because girls are gross, and (to Rachel’s quiet shock) too-casually acknowledges his raging crush on Brad Pitt.
Anyway, it works like a charm.  Jordan gets over her crush pretty quick after that.
“You didn’t have to go quite that hard in the paint, you know,” Rachel says to Marco much later.  “Pretending to like Brad Pitt, I mean.”
Marco is lying on her bed, looking through one of her back issues of CosmoGirl with the air of a forensic anthropologist picking apart the dismembered remains of a human sacrifice.  “What?” he says, back in that too-casual tone.  “I can appreciate a good pair of lips, no matter what type of human being they grow upon.”
Rachel spins around, looking away from the mirror where she was fixing her hair.  Marco is now staring at the magazine as if trying to detect a coded message between two lines of the spread comparing different brands of eyeliner.
“No matter what type?” she asks.
Marco lifts his chin.  He doesn’t back down, and he doesn’t laugh.  There’s a defiant set to his smirk, and the careful confidence in his expression is betrayed by the slight trembling of his fingers clenched around the Cosmo.
Their parents are engaged, that’s all.  And it’s not something he’s ever told anyone... but he also thinks it’s maybe the sort of thing that one tells one’s siblings.
“So you do agree with me and Cassie about Jeremy Jason McCole!” Rachel says triumphantly.
Marco gags so hard he risks straining his own throat muscles.  “I have taste!  You, clearly, have none.”
If Jordan still has any romantic interest in Marco at all even after the you’re going to be step-siblings news broke, it disappears the instant that Naomi announces Jordan and Sara are going to be sharing a room from now on, because Marco and Peter are moving in with them.  A week later, Jake’s mother has a stern conversation with him about the extent to which he’s been running up their phone bill.  He grumbles that he didn’t ask to be everyone’s agony aunt, but that doesn’t get him out of being grounded.
Marco teases Rachel endlessly when he figures out why she leaves her window open every night, even — especially — when it’s cold or rainy outside.  But he also helps cover for her and Tobias without being asked, and one night in gorilla morph he deforms the oak tree out in the back yard so that a sheltered branch rests directly underneath her windowsill.
Rachel stops in the door of Marco’s room the day after the confrontation with Visser One outside the fake hork-bajir valley.  She doesn’t bother to knock.  He didn’t bother to shut the door.
Marco’s sitting in the narrow space between his bed and the wall, staring at the blank blue paint in front of his face.  His knees are drawn up to his chest, his hands limp at his sides.
“They didn’t find a body,” Rachel says, blunt as ever, standing over him.  “I know that’s not good news or anything.  But I also figured you had a right to know.  There’s no sign of Vis—  Of her body.”
Marco squeezes his eyes shut, hard, but still can’t stop the tears.  “Shit.”  He lets his head fall back against the bedspread.  “Shit.”
Hesitating only a second, Rachel scoots in next to him.  She doesn’t try for a hug or anything stupid like that, but she sits shoulder-to-shoulder with him.  She’s the kind of person given to stillness, but she stays put as he struggles to breathe and swipes his sleeve across his face time and time again.
“It’s never going to end, is it,” Marco says at last, when he’s got enough air for words.
Rachel shrugs.  “I’m the wrong person to ask.”
“Shit,” he whispers again.  “Shit, shit, shit.”
“You wanna play Sega?” she asks.  “Not think for a while?”
Marco shakes his head violently.  “I just need some space, okay?”
“Sure.”  She stands.  “I’ll tell my mom not to expect you for dinner.”
Their parents are downstairs cooking.  Laughing.  Arguing companionably over one of Naomi’s cases.  Every clink of dishes, every fond word, feels like a spike driven under Rachel’s fingernails right now.  And if that’s how she feels...
“Anyway, I know you think I’m a crazy psycho killer, but for what it’s worth I think you made the right call.”  She says it sharply, standing to go.  Marco doesn’t respond, not that she expected him to, and she yanks his door shut when she goes.
Peter doesn’t try to be Rachel’s dad.  But he helps her with homework and shows up to her gymnastics meets and acts more excited than she is when she aces a history test.  He asks her what she wants to study in college, not whether she’s going or how they’re expected to pay for it.  He doesn’t try, and he does pretty well anyway.
The Animorphs meet in Rachel’s room almost as often as they do in Cassie’s barn.  It’s more centrally located, even if it doesn’t have nearly the selection of morphs right at hand.  Jake and Cassie both have preexisting excuses for showing up several times a week, and Tobias and Ax never bother using the front door anyway.  Marco’s also taken the time to confirm that no one in the house is a controller, so it saves everyone a little peace of mind.
Rachel wakes up screaming in the middle of the night.  No, that’s not it; she’s screaming in her sleep, and then Marco snaps the light on and wakes her.  He sets a glass of water on her nightstand.  Tilts the alarm clock so she can see the time.  Pokes her in the arm to remind her that she’s human, at least for now.  When it becomes obvious that she’s not going to talk about it, he turns and leaves without ever saying a word.
“I need you,” Marco says into the phone, middle of the night, apparently apropos of nothing.  “They took my dad.”  He gives the address, and then he hangs up.
He and Rachel have come to a decision, without discussion, without niceties like consulting Jake, by the time they’re done fighting off the half-dozen controllers who were dragging Peter toward the portable yeerk pool.  Rachel demorphs as Peter watches.  Marco goes through the explanation the first time, then the second.
Midway through the third round of attempts to convince Peter he’s not crazy, Rachel gives up.  She herds both Peter and Marco into the backseat, and drives back to the house.  “Pack for a long trip,” she tells them both, and goes upstairs to tell her mom.
Maybe, Jake concludes, exhausted just at the thought, they could’ve kept going if it was just his parents, or just Cassie’s.  But Rachel and Marco can’t both disappear without rousing too much suspicion, and getting rid of just one of them will put the yeerks on the tail of the other.  “I guess it’s time,” he says.  “Better get ready to tell our own parents, then.”
By the end of that day, Rachel’s and Marco’s blended family is in the hork-bajir valley.  By the time two days have passed, Jake’s and Cassie’s families are there too, even if Tom is currently secured with about a half-mile of duct tape and will need to be babysat by several hork-bajir for the next three days.  A week after that, Tobias shows up with Loren in tow.  One hellish mission later, and Visser One is dead, but her host is rapidly recovering.
Naomi and Eva circle each other like a pair of housecats thrust into the same room, at first.  They’re prim and aloof and wary, unable to know what to make of each other.  Peter helps exactly nothing by retreating from the conflict entirely, busying himself with an elaborate irrigation project the hork-bajir don’t actually need his help with.  But he can’t escape them forever.
One night, all three of them get roaring drunk on some kind of regrettable fermented-bark thing, and finally have it out.  Peter makes a passionate speech or two about his love for them both before retreating into morose silence.  Naomi’s sixth drink ends in her making an elaborate attempt to draw up a timeshare contract over who will keep Peter on which night.
Eva slams a hand down on the table, and they both fall silent.  She won’t share, she announces quietly, and she won’t be with a man who cannot choose.  She’ll find her own way.
Her own way, as it turns out, is even worse than Marco could have possibly imagined.
“Why?” Marco cries, flopping on the ground in the middle of the next Animorphs’ meeting.  “Why, why, why does this keep happening to me?”
“Pretty sure we’ve been over this before, back when it was your dad, and concluded it’s not about you,” Jake says.  “Anyway, the yeerks —”
“No!”  Marco sits up.  “We have more important things to talk about than yeerks.  Tobias, back me up on this!”
«Uh, yeah.»  Tobias looks over at Rachel.  «By the way, all those times you talked about how weird it was when your mom started dating again... Sorry for not being more sympathetic.  Now that I’m in your shoes...  It’s really weird.»
Rachel sniffs.  “You only met your mom like a month ago.  It’s still worse for me.”
“And it’s worst of all for me!”  Marco has flopped back over.  He emits a noise something like a wookiee being murdered.  “Please someone acknowledge that it’s worst of all for me!”
Cassie pats him on the back of the head.  “It’s worst of all for you,” she says.
“Thanks,” he says into the grass.
“Okay!”  Jake throws up his hands.  “Marco’s mom and Tobias’s mom have a thing going.  Now do we have it out of our systems?”
«Personally, I think Loren and Eva are most compatible,» Ax says.
«Nobody asked you,» Tobias snarks.  «And Jake, just imagine for a second if it was your mom who was macking on—»
“Nope!” Rachel says loudly.  “Nobody is thinking about anyone’s mom and anyone else’s mom.  Or dad.  We are ignoring it, we are pretending it’s not happening, we are carrying on as Marco and I have been for over a year now, we are killing yeerks.”
“Yeah, like I was saying.”  Jake rolls his eyes.  “There are aliens invading the planet, remember?”
“The horror,” Marco mumbles, still facedown in the grass.  “The horror!”
Cassie gives him another sympathetic pat on the back of the head.
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hopelikethemoon · 4 years
Text
Title: ballet practice  Rating: PG Length: 2,200 Warnings: None. All fluff.  Notes: Please note that we’ve encountered a time jump. This ficlet is set in 1996 when Josie is 3 years old.  You can follow the timeline of Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Also, can I just how freaking hard it is to write them being genuienly happy? Not that it’ll last for long. Summary: I don’t know how to summarize this because it’s just fluff and amusement.  Taglist:  @grapemama​​  @seawhisperer​​ @huliabitch​​ @pedropascalito​​ @rogrsnbarnes​​@thewallpapergoesorido​​ @twomoonstwosuns​​ @gooddaykate​​ @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow​@hiscyarika​​ @plexflexico​​ @readsalot73​​ @hdlynn​​ @lokiaddicted​ @randomness501​​@fioccodineveautunnale​​​ @roxypeanut​ @just-add-butter​ @snivellusim​
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“Mommy, my hair’s falling down.” Josie pouted as she tugged at the loose strands that she’d slowly worked out of her bun over the course of the fifteen-minute car ride to the dance studio. You sighed heavily, gesturing for her to come closer. “Thank you mommy.”
“Of course, baby doll.” You said affectionately, pulling a bobby pin loose and tucking it between your lips as you started to pull apart your efforts. Whoever thought getting a three year old to sit still long enough to get their hair slicked back into a bun had lost their damn mind. 
“You good?” Javier questioned, running his hand over the length of your back as he settled into the seat beside you. 
“Yeah.” You nodded with a smile. “Hun, you’ve got to hold still.” 
Josie stiffened at your words, “I’m sorry mommy.” 
“It’s okay sweetheart.” You offered, tucking another bobby pin between your lips. Javier gave your shoulder three little squeezes — a gesture that never failed to make your heart flutter. It had been years since the first time he silently reminded you of his love with the subtlest of touches. Something that used to get you through the hardest days of work when Josie hadn’t even been born yet. 
“I’m gonna hit the restroom,” Javier told you, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your temple before he headed down the hallway to the bathroom. You were keenly aware of the way the other mothers in the room watched him leave. You had to admit, the jeans made his ass look great. But they were also relentless women, despite the fact you were sitting right there. 
And it wasn’t as though Javier didn’t make it known that he was with you. If he didn’t have his arm slung around your shoulders, he had his hand on your knee, or his fingers interlaced with yours. Javi took full advantage of the fact that nothing about your relationship had to be kept under wraps anymore. 
“Hold still.” You reminded Josie as she started wiggling — never able to stay in one spot for very long. “Almost done.” You mumbled through the bobby pins as you peeled the hairnet off, resting it on your leg as you pinned her hair back down. 
When Javier returned from the bathroom the seat beside him was no longer vacant. One of the mothers — Missy — had uprooted her belongings across the room to slide into the spot next to him. You had met her husband once, at one of the girls’ recitals. Typical military type, and easy on the eyes himself. You had no idea why she was constantly in hot pursuit of Javi, except for the fact that Javi was… well, aloof was the best word for it.
You didn’t know anything for certain, but you sometimes wondered if the other mothers had some unspoken bet in place. Which one of them would manage to snatch up the Hot Dad at their daughter's dance class? A couple of them had caught you off-guard a few months back at the cookie table during one of the in-class recitals. They wanted to know all about why the pair of you weren’t married. Was there trouble? All sorts of bullshit no one had any right to ask another person when they just wanted to enjoy their Snickerdoodles. 
“Don’t you look pretty,” Javier told Josie as she showed off her new bun. “Now don’t you pull it down again. You’re driving mommy crazy.” He gave her cheek a playful pinch and she giggled and hugged at his legs. 
“Remember to work on your balance like we practiced.” You reminded her, leaning forward to press a kiss to the top of her head. She scampered off towards the studio with two of the other little girls that had been waiting for her. 
Javier leaned back in the chair, resting his foot on the top of his thigh as he crossed his legs. “I can’t believe how big she’s getting.” He remarked, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at you. “Feels like just yesterday I was holding her in my arms.”
You nudged at his arm, “It probably was just yesterday. You’re always carrying her around.” 
“Touché.” He chuckled, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip before he reached over and rested his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze. 
“I think it’s just darling how you are with her,” Missy remarked, but Javier didn’t seem to realize she was talking at him just yet. “It’s just so important for little girls to have bonds with their daddys like that.”
You covered your mouth as you stifled a laugh, rubbing your lips together as you met Javier’s gaze. Your brows rose upwards as you nodded your head towards Missy. “She’s talking to you.” You whispered. 
Javier glanced over his shoulder at Missy, his shoulders growing tense as he turned to speak to her. “Yeah, it is. She makes it easy though.” 
“She’s just the sweetest little girl.” Missy seemed elated to have his attention. “My Lily has been dying to have her over. Maybe you could bring her over  for lunch one day.” She looked at you then, “Such a shame you work. I’d invite you, but I guess Javi will just have to bring her himself.” 
“Actually,” He slid his hand up your leg to grab ahold of your hand, interlacing your fingers as he turned to meet your gaze. “You're free this Wednesday aren’t you, baby?”
“Yeah.” You grinned at him, before regarding Missy. “I actually only work a couple days a week, Missy. I’d love to bring Josie over.” 
“Oh,” She pursed her lips, folding her arms across her chest. “I’ll have to see if I’m free on Wednesday. How does Thursday look for you, Javier?”
Javi squeezed your hand, looking back at you again. “You’re off then, aren’t you?”
“I am.” You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand. “Missy, give me a call on Sunday and we’ll set the playdate up.”
Missy frowned before quickly plastering on a fake smile, “Sounds like a plan.”
 ———
“Are they all that bad?” Javier questioned once Josie was loaded into the backseat and he started down the road towards home. 
“Hmm?”
“The moms.”
You snorted, “Oh, they’re ruthless.” 
“Jesus Christ.” He shook his head slowly. 
“I personally don’t get the appeal.” You quipped, leaning across the center console to steal his aviators off his shirt and putting them on. The evening sun was catching you right in the eyes through the passenger window. 
“Of me?”
“Mhm.” You smirked at him. “I mean, have you seen Missy’s husband?”
“Baby.” He huffed. 
You let his aviator’s slide down the bridge of your nose, peering over the top at him as he stopped at a light. “What?”
“That’s not fair.” 
“I’m just saying.” You shrugged a shoulder, barely able to keep from laughing. “And Tonya’s husband,” You pretended to fan yourself. “Yet she was all over me for information about you last week.” You cleared your throat, before imitating the woman’s nasally voice, “Where does Javi work? How did you meet Javi?” 
“I get it.” 
“Oh, wait.” You held up a hand. “What was it she said? It’s so nice of you to care for Javier’s daughter like she’s yours.” You gave him a droll expression. “As if that head didn’t come out of me.” You pushed the aviators back up to the bridge of your nose, looking between Javier and Josie, who had already fallen dead asleep in her carseat. “I mean she does look a lot like you.” 
“Nah, she’s got all her mama’s good looks.” Javier drawled out, glancing back in the rearview window. “Let’s rewind to what you were saying about Missy’s husband.” 
You laughed, sinking back in your seat. “He’s not really my type.” 
“What’s your type?”
You tapped your finger against your chin as you thought for a long moment. “I’m a sucker for dark hair and dark eyes.” You mused, chewing at the inside of your bottom lip. “A little grey is nice too.” You glanced over at him, a grin spreading over your lips. “A mustache. Very kissable lips.” 
“Sounds like a lucky guy.” 
“Just as lucky as I am.”  
 ———
You leaned against the threshold of Josie’s bedroom, watching as Javier laid beside Josie on her little twin bed, reading her a bedtime story. You had been insistent that she still needed a toddler bed, but Javier had convinced you that she was ready for a “big girl bed” Mostly so he could lay in bed with her and read to her. 
Don Quixote had proven to be a little daunting for a three-year-old, so he’d recently branched out into Read Along books — mostly Lion King, which Josie had recently become obsessed with. You had to admit, Javier did a killer Scar impersonation that would’ve put Jeremy Irons to shame. He did anything he could to keep Josie entertained and he was fortunate because everything he did became her new favorite thing. 
“You know, I was thinking...” You whispered as he closed Josie’s door shut behind him, lingering in the hallway in front of you. 
“Yeah?” His brows drew together. 
“I think I’m ready.” 
“For?” 
You sighed softly, “To try to have another baby.”
“Is this because Tonya thought Josie wasn’t yours?” He questioned, folding his arms across his chest. 
You had both discussed the potential of having another kid in roundabout ways over the years. Steve and Connie had adopted another little girl from Colombia last year — which had sparked a quiet desire to have two of your own. To have it all; the doting partner, the adoring father, the baby showers, the doctor’s visits. All the little things your pregnancy with Josie had been robbed of. 
You shook your head. “No, it’s not. I’ve been thinking about it for awhile.”
“So have I.” He admitted, pushing his fingers through his hair and curling his hand around the back of his neck. “I think we could handle a four-year-old and a newborn.” 
A laugh escaped you, “Yeah. I think we could too.” 
“And you promise this isn’t because of those dumbass women at ballet?”
“Oh, I mean…” You shrugged your shoulders. “I fully intend to flaunt it.” You gave him a sweeping look, “Because you’re all mine to have a family with.” You reached out and traced your fingers over the exposed skin where his shirt was partially buttoned. 
Javier let out a slow and shaky breath, one that seemed like he’d been holding it in for a while. “So this is happening?”
You nodded. “I’d like to try.” 
“Me too.” He looped his fingers into your belt loops, pulling you in to him so he could plant a kiss on your lips. “It’s going to be so different.” 
“I know.” You brushed your fingers along the column of his throat, leaning up to kiss him again. “I can’t wait to see how absolutely atrocious you’re going to be in public.” 
“Oh, it’s going to be bad.” He drawled out with a grin, bumping his nose against yours. “I’m going to drive you crazy, baby.”
“I expect nothing less.” You kissed him once more, letting your lips linger against his. “I bet you’re excited that you can talk to Steve about everything this time.” 
“Best damn part of this.” He teased, his hands curling around your hips. “Aside from the baby part.” 
“Just when I finally get back into shape.” You huffed, draping your arms over his shoulders. 
“You’re not going to hear any complaints from me.” Javier quipped, looking down at you. “I thought you were gorgeous when you were pregnant with Josie. Think you’re gorgeous all the time.” 
You ran your hand up the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Josie’s going to be so excited when it happens.”
“You think?” Javier chuckled. “Though she might lose her mind over the thought of not being daddy’s only little girl.”
“It might be a boy.” You pointed out. 
“Steve will expect us to name him after him. It’s got to be a girl.” Javier made a disgruntled face. 
You laughed, slowly winding your arms around him and pressing your face into his chest. “I’ll stop taking my birth control tomorrow. It’ll take a couple weeks for the hormones to clear out of my system and then…”
Javier wrapped his arms around you tightly, leaning down to press his face into the crook of your neck. Who would’ve thought, way back when, that this was the man that would change your life forever. That made every day an adventure. Which wasn’t to say that he wasn’t an absolute asshole somedays, but you were well aware of the fact that you could also drive him up the wall too. You were perfect counterweights to one another. 
It was crazy to think that in just ten months you might have another baby in the house. 
Colombia felt like a lifetime ago already. The trauma of Josie’s birth — simply a whisper of the past. It wouldn’t be like that this time. This new baby would proudly be a Peña from the moment he or she was born. Javier wouldn’t have to hide his elation, miss out on the sonograms or the heartbeats. He wouldn’t have to slide out of your bed and leave you in the mornings or come home to you late at night.
You were stuck with him. Right where you wanted him. 
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