#featuring my dogs baby stroller in some shots
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Me and @theood took my old pup on a walk today!
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Disneyland DILF
Summary: While on a family vacation to Disneyland, Elide discovers her husband Lorcan has been featured on the viral Instagram page ‘DILFS of Disneyland.’
When he claims not to know what a DILF is, Elide decides the best way she can explain it to him is to demonstrate what the F stands for.
For the wonderful and amazing and talented @headcanonheadcase! I've been teasing this Lorcan DILF fic for a while, so thanks for being patient with me! Thank you for being so kind and supportive, and I hope you enjoy!
Rating: Explicit. See AO3 link for tags.
Word Count: 4.9K
Read on A03
“Come on Jack, look over here! Look at Mommy! Come on baby, just give me one good photo!”
Whoever coined the idiom “herding cats” to describe an impossible task should have instead used something like, “getting your toddler to look at a camera for more than one second for a halfway decent picture.” The latter, Elide decided, conveyed more of the frustrating nuance that people were bound to face, even if it was a bit too lengthy of a phrase. Who even had enough cats to herd anyways?
“Lorcan, can you stop distracting him for one minute, please? I really wanna get a picture of Jack with Pluto. And can you fix his hair?”
Her husband stopped whispering whatever he was saying to their son. He looked up at Elide with a frown.
“I’m not distracting him - I’m just telling him how better dressed he is than every other kid here.”
“Well, maybe don’t do that,” she cringed, as a middle aged woman wearing a pair of Mickey Mouse ears with a gaggle of similarly dressed children behind her shot Lorcan and Elide a dirty look.
“And I think his hair looks good like this,” Lorcan went on, slightly tussling his son’s dark hair. “It looks effortlessly messy and windswept. Classic.” Jack agreed, as he grinned and clapped his pudgy little hands at his father’s compliments.
“He’s two,” Elide deadpanned. “He’s not going to be on the cover of Baby Vogue.”
Lorcan hummed. “Is that a thing? It should be, and Jack should be on the cover -“
She sighed; she knew when she lost her battles with her husband, rare that it happened. “One, two, three -“
Quick as a snake, Lorcan turned himself and Jack towards Elide’s phone and gave their biggest grins for the picture: Lorcan’s a small uptick of the corners of his mouth, his long, dark hair swaying in the warm breeze, while Jack grinned toothily at the camera.
“Oh, that actually turned out pretty good,” Elide said, slowly walking over to show the picture to Lorcan. “And Plutos is in the background, so I guess that technically counts.”
“Pluto’s the dog, right?” Lorcan asked, settling Jack back in his stroller.
Elide looked at her husband exasperatedly. “Yes, Pluto’s the dog. I still don’t understand how you know so little about Disney. It’s like you grew up under a rock.”
Lorcan shrugged as they set off at a slow pace down Disneyland’s broad Main Street and into the heart of the park. “Growing up in an orphanage and joining the military at 18 doesn’t exactly lend itself to having a pop culture filled childhood.”
“Disney transcends pop culture,” Elide muttered distractedly, pulling up the Disneyland app on her smartphone. “I know I should have quizzed you on everything Disney, or at least made you memorize the map of this place.”
“Where are we off to next?” he asked, looking over her shoulder at the map pulled up on her phone.
“Where aren’t we going? Big day planned. Jack loves Tigger so I want to head over to the Critter Country area so he can meet him and get some pictures together. I think we’d all like the Jungle Cruise - can you double check I packed the noise canceling headphones? - watch the parade, hang around in Toontown, depending on how Jack is doing, then end the day by visiting Sleepy Beauty’s castle. That’s been on my to do list since I was a little girl.”
Lorcan arched an eyebrow. “Is this Disneyland vacation for him or you?”
Elide pursed her lips. “It’s for all of us, you giant twerp. But what do you want to do? I’ll hang back with him if you want to go on rides or visit the Star Wars area.”
“I don’t need to do anything other than be with you two. Just keep me fed and I’ll go wherever you tell me.”
Elide grinned. “Smart man. How about we head over to Adventureland for the Jungle Cruise? I think he’d like the animals.”
“Lead on,” Lorcan said, wheeling Jack’s stroller around and following Elide further into the park.
The Jungle Cruise was a hit. Lorcan strapped Jack into his front-facing toddler carrier and held him the entire time, making sure his headphones were on and pointing out the different animals they saw, to Jack’s delight. Elide should have spent the ride taking in the sights around her - this Disneyland trip was truthfully perhaps more for her than for their son - but she couldn’t help but let her gaze linger on Lorcan.
Devilishly handsome didn’t seem like it did her husband justice. Nearly seven feet tall, with shiny shoulder length dark hair, a perfectly symmetrical face, and rippling muscles that didn’t seem real, Elide knew Lorcan was a catch.
But what she adored even more about him was his personality: his quiet, understated humor, how loyal he was, his bravery, and his unending support for everything Elide put her mind to. He carried her weight - sometimes literally - when her disability became too much for her and she struggled to walk even with her ankle brace on.
Best of all, he was an excellent father. Before Jack had been born, he’d confessed to Elide that he was scared that he didn’t know how to be a good dad and he’d do something to traumatically mess up Jack’s life. She didn’t believe that for a second; she had full faith in him, and told him that repeatedly. The first time Lorcan held Jack after he was born was the closest Elide had ever seen him to crying.
And now here he was, willingly walking around the capitalistic hell that was Disneyland, all so his wife and son could have a picture perfect day. What a lucky woman she was.
“I think he really enjoyed that,” Lorcan commented after they collected their stroller from the front of the ride. He decided to keep wearing Jack in his front-facing carrier - “He’ll be able to see things better that way,” he reasoned - and Elide wasn’t going to complain, especially since seeing Lorcan carry their kid around sent odd little flutters throughout her body.
“He did,” Elide cooed, re-fastening Jack’s little velcro shoes so he wouldn’t kick them off. “I got a good picture of him looking at elephants.”
“Good thing he didn’t seem to realize what the lions were doing to that zebra.”
Elide shuddered. “Yeah, maybe some parts of this ride aren’t the best for babies and toddlers.”
“Where to next?” Lorcan asked. “Try to find Tigger and then lunch?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Elide said, kissing Jack’s cheek and squeezing Lorcan’s hand. “Want me to take the stroller?”
“You navigate, I’ll steer.”
She quickly learned Disneyland was much larger than the little map on her phone made it look. By the time they found Tigger and took dozens of pictures of an excited Jack with his favorite character, and let him burn some energy on a Winnie the Pooh playground, Elide’s ankle throbbed with every footstep she took. She hobbled to a sitting bench and watched Jack go down a slide before running back up to go down again and again.
“How are you doing?” Lorcan questioned, sitting down next to her on the bench.
“I may have underestimated how much walking we were going to do today,” she admitted, leaning down to rub her ankle.
“Want your brace?”
She grimaced. “Maybe not right now. I’ll try to wait until after lunch. Speaking of, I think Jack’s getting hungry and tired - want to see if we can find somewhere to sit out of the sun?”
They found a shaded and relatively quiet restaurant in the New Orleans area, and Elide sat at the table and put on her ankle brace, waiting for their food, as Lorcan walked around with Jack in the picturesque square outside the restaurant. She watched them contentedly as Jack toddled over a short railing into a flower bed and stuck his entire head into a bunch of flowers. Rather than pull him out, Lorcan crouched down next to him and started pointing out different flowers to Jack.
Sighing happily, she took a sip of her mocktail and closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair. Besides her ankle, the day was going perfectly.
“Mama! Mama!”
She opened her eyes. Lorcan was walking towards her with Jack on his hip, a bunch of bright flowers, dirty roots and all, dangling from his fat fist.
“He was very interested in the flowers, and I told him how much you like flowers too,” Lorcan said, putting Jack in a high chair as he thrust the flowers at Elide.
“Oh Jack, these are perfect,” Elide gasped, fighting the tears that had welled in her eyes and taking the bright arrangement from her son. She leaned down to kiss Jack on a chubby cheek. “Thank you so much baby.”
“Seems I’m gonna have to do better the next time I give you flowers,” Lorcan grumbled. “Not sure how I’m gonna compete with a fresh Disney bouquet.”
“I’m surprised no one came and shooed you away,” Elide noted, wrapping the bottom of the flowers in a napkin and tucking them in the stroller.
“Oh, someone did,” Lorcan confirmed nonchalantly. “Especially when Jack tossed a bunch of tulips on the ground. They didn’t seem to like us damaging park property, or something.”
“Lorcan!” Elide admonished. “You didn’t make someone miserable over some flowers, did you?”
No, I just stood up and I guess they thought better about trying to yell at me. Besides, it’d be well worth making anyone miserable if it made you happy.”
“Aw. That is so sweet and threatening.”
He winked and gave her a small smile. “Anything for you.”
They took their time with lunch and by the time they finished, Jack had fallen asleep in his stroller. Deciding to let him sleep, they staked out a shaded bit of lawn and sat down to watch the parade from a distance. Full of energy when he woke up, they leisurely made their way over to Toontown and got in line for the steam train ride.
“I can take him for a bit,” Elide suggested, picking a bench in the back of the train so Lorcan wouldn’t block anyone out. “You’ve been handling him a lot today.”
“I got him,” Lorcan said, sitting Jack on his lap. “You just sit and relax.”
Her husband had apparently designated himself as being on ‘Jack Duty’ all day, as he refused to let Elide even push his stroller or hold him, besides whenever she thrust her phone at Lorcan and asked him to take pictures.
“Is that safe, Lorcan?” Elide asked nervously after they had gotten off the train. Her husband had just thrown Jack onto his shoulders, giving him the best view in the entire park.
“Course,” Lorcan grunted, holding onto their son’s legs, his arms flexing as they walked towards Goofy’s Playhouse. “Just want to make sure he can see everything. He loves people watching, just like his mom.”
They set Jack down and he immediately ran into the bright, cartoon style house.
“He’s gonna sleep so well tonight,” Elide sighed happily.
“And we won’t?” Lorcan countered, an eyebrow raised.
“Good point. I’m glad tomorrow is a lazy day at the beach.”
By the time they dragged Jack away nearly an hour later, even he had come to the conclusion that he was ready to leave. Burying his face in Lorcan’s shoulder, he didn’t seem to mind stopping at Sleeping Beauty’s castle. Elide didn’t have the energy to go up and explore any of the winding passages and staircases, but Lorcan still took her picture everywhere she could go in the castle, juggling her phone in one hand and their near-sleeping son in the other.
“You could have put him in the stroller,” Elide said as they made their way back to their car, double and triple checking that they hadn’t lost anything in the park.
“That’s alright. Didn’t want to risk waking him up.”
Dinner was some fast food they picked up on the way back to their Airbnb. Jack picked at his food and didn’t fight them as they gave him a quick bath and Lorcan got him settled for bed in the small second bedroom of the condo. Elide showered and stepped into the master bedroom to find Lorcan laying on the bed reading a book.
“Did he go down pretty easy?” she asked, drying her hair.
“Oh yeah. Only made it a few more pages into The Hobbit before he passed out.”
“God, same kid,” Elide groaned, throwing on her pajamas and crawling into bed next to Lorcan, grabbing her phone and looking through the several hundred photos she and Lorcan had managed to snap that day.
Opening Instagram, she scrolled through her friend’s recent posts and videos - Aelin and Rowan celebrating their wedding anniversary, Manon’s rescue bulldog Abraxos officially completing training to become a therapy dog, and some professional pictures of Yrene, Chaol and their daughter - before she noticed a ‘Suggested for You’ account:
dilfs_of_disneyland
Elide snorted and scrolled away. How stupid and niche. It was probably filled with a few blurry creepshots of men at Disneyland, or a PR stunt of some kind for a movie or TV show or podcast. No, thank you. Elide had standards. She scrolled away.
On the other hand, she was on vacation; her standards could take a break. She scrolled back up and clicked on the account and was brought to a professional looking Instagram page:
DILFS of Disneyland: Welcome to the Happiest place on Instagram!
Apparently the account wasn’t niche at all - it had over 400,000 followers, and more than 1,200 posts, all featuring pictures of handsome men with babies and toddlers at Disneyland. Elide was stunned, scrolling through post after post after post of men with their kids at Disneyland, doing frankly normal things - pushing strollers, posing for pictures, eating ice cream and churros with their kids - but there was something… else, something more she couldn’t quite put her finger on that made these men extra appealing.
Not that she would ever admit this to Lorcan. Snorting, she scrolled back to the top of the page when she noticed a new post from today with an all too familiar face:
“WOW 😍😍 A DILF to beat all DILFS! Taking Tall, Dark and Handsome to a new DILF-y level!! #hotdads #dilfsofdisneyland #dilfalert #strollermeat”
There was her husband, in all his DILF-y glory from throughout the day: Lorcan walking with Jack strapped to his chest, Lorcan pushing Jack in his stroller, and even one from late in the day when Jack sat on Lorcan’s shoulders. Elide had to give it to the photographer on that one - his arms and chest looked absolutely ripped in the photo.
And the internet agreed. The post had only been up for a few hours and already amassed several hundred likes and over one hundred comments, all from women - and some men - going feral for Lorcan.
“Call the fire department, cuz I’m about to climb that DILF like a tree and get stuck”
“Hello Daddy😏😘”
“God bless this Disney DILF🙏🏻🙏🏻”
Elide couldn’t help but chuckle. She maybe should be concerned that someone had been stalking her husband at Disneyland but as she looked through the many comments bemoaning how hot and unavailable Lorcan was, she didn’t feel any anger for the people drooling over her husband. Her chuckle morphed into a full laugh, until Elide was snorting in laughter.
“What are you laughing at?”
Lorcan was staring at her, his brow furrowed.
“Your greatest fear has come true,” Elide gasped out.
Lorcan sat up. “Rowan got some stupid award he can rub in my face?”
“No, you’re internet famous. Kind of.”
“What?” he snapped, rolling on his side to try to look at her phone. “What happened?”
“It’s nothing bad,” she said, working to contain her laughter. “The internet says you’re a DILF.”
Lorcan stared at her blankly. “A what?”
“A DILF. You know,” she repeated, waving her hand like that would explain the acronym.
"What’s a DILF?”
Elide sat up on her elbows. “Wait, really? You don’t know what a DILF is?” She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head at Lorcan, studying him for any of his lying tells.
“Really. What’s it mean?”
“You’re thirty-four!” Elide exclaimed. “How do you not know what a DILF is?”
“Well, I’m not glued to my phone twenty-four seven -”
“Because your old flip phone doesn't have internet and you only have three people’s phone numbers.”
“Just tell me what it means,” Lorcan grumbled, pouting.
Elide snickered. “It means ‘dad I’d like to fuck.’ There’s an Instagram page devoted to dads in Disneyland, and you’re proving very popular.” She handed her phone to Lorcan and watched him read through the myriad of comments left on his pictures.
“Huh. That’s… interesting.”
Elide shrugged. “Maybe a little odd, but they don’t mean any harm by it. Just people admiring how hot and good of a dad you are.”
“And being a dad… makes me more attractive to women?”
“Oh definitely. There have been times when you’ve been so good with Jack I jumped you when we put him down for a nap. And seeing you today, holding Jack, playing with him…” she trailed off, biting her lip and sweeping her eyes down his body.
“Really? That gets you going?”
“Maybe,” she purred, crawling over to him and swinging her leg over him so she sat on his lap, “I could put on a demonstration of the ‘F’ in DILF, if you still need convincing.”
He grinned, trailing his big hands up her slim thighs. “I’ve always been more of a hands-on learner. That might help it… sink in.”
“Maybe if you’re lucky, that won’t be the only thing you’ll be sinking into,” she murmured, leaning down to capture Lorcan’s lips against hers.
Lorcan’s warm hands grasped the sides of her head to keep her still as their tongues met. Elide sighed with pleasure. She could spend all night just kissing her husband, feeling his large body flex and shift underneath her, his hands trailing soft caresses down her body. His fingers dove beneath her sleep shorts. She was already wet. She gasped as his fingers trailed up and down her slit before plunging a thick finger inside her.
“Guess you weren’t kidding about getting turned on by me being a DILF,” Lorcan mumbled against her, nipping her bottom lip.
Groaning, she rolled off him and threw herself off the bed, tugging her clothes off. “Well, hop to it,” she breathed, laughing softly as Lorcan fumbled to get his pants and shirt off.
She took a moment to stare at his body: a strong chest covered with a smattering of dark hair that formed a dark line below his belly button, thick thighs that could crush a person to death if he needed to. And his cock. Thick, long, and perfectly proportional to his big body and which looked obscene next to Elide’s petite form.
Lorcan lay on the bed, absentmindedly stroking his cock as he looked Elide up and down. “Dad you’d like to fuck, hm?” He murmured. “How about I get you warmed up for a fucking?”
Elide shivered. “What do you have in mind?”
“I like the idea of… sinking into you.” He grinned lazily, and her belly tightened with anticipation. “Get on.”
He grabbed a small bottle of lube and coated his thick length liberally. She climbed on top of Lorcan and gasped as he spun her around and settled her over his cock, her knees bracketing his hips as she faced away from his face, towards his long legs and feet. She turned around to look at him.
“Just wanna feel you around me,” he remarked. Grabbing his cock, he pulled her down, letting her take him within her at her own pace.
Elide moaned. Even after all this time, she still needed to take him slowly, let him stretch out her inner walls. The lube helped immensely. She swirled her hips, taking an inch before withdrawing and taking another, then another, then another, Lorcan’s deep groans egging her on. Finally she sunk down fully against his body. She started to raise herself on her knees to start that intimate rhythm they both knew so well when Lorcan’s hands gripped her hips.
“Hold on,” he said, not letting her move. “Now that you’re here, I wanna enjoy this.”
“Were you not having fun before?” Elide gasped, feeling him twitch inside her.
“Oh, I was and still am,” he said, caressing her hips. “Just come back down and lean forward a bit - yeah, just like that.”
Elide blushed as she leaned forward over Lorcan’s body, grabbing his knees for leverage. She felt exposed and open as Lorcan hummed appreciatively, rubbing his hand over one of her ass cheeks.
“You take me so well,” he murmured. “I think this is a nice interlude before I fuck you. Just wanna feel you warming my cock.”
She craned her neck and gave him an annoyed look. This is not at all what she thought he meant by ‘warming her up.’ “And what about me?”
Lorcan raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that we ended up here because you get so turned on just by me being a good dad. Don’t I have a say in how I want to be fucked?”
“Well, I guess, but -“
“Then just sit there nice and pretty on my cock,” he soothed. “Don’t move though, just stay still.”
“Lorcan,” Elide squirmed against him. “I need -“
“Don’t worry, I’ll fuck you full in a bit,” he said distractedly, and Elide knew he felt her cunt clench around his cock ar his words. “I just wanna finish this chapter -“
She tsked. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, reaching for his book with one hand and rubbing her back with the other. “Just a few minutes.”
Elide sighed and turned her head back towards Lorcan’s legs, forcing herself to relax. She considered herself fairly adventurous in bed, and her and Lorcan had a very open and healthy sex life, but this was one thing they hadn’t tried yet. Elide didn’t see the appeal in cockwarming, but actually experiencing it, well…
Lorcan subtly shifted his hips and she felt his cock somewhere in her stomach. Cursing, she gripped his knees and made herself stay still. This wasn’t how she thought this would go. When she initially climbed on his lap she thought she’d suck him for a bit then ride him, or maybe bend herself over the bed so he could pound into her from behind.
But here she was, hypersensitive and aware of every little movement and touch from Lorcan, only a few breaths away from breaking and begging him to do something.
Which is probably why he did this. Jerk.
“I can hear you thinking.” She refused to turn around to look at him but she could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Just thinking how I actually wanted to fuck my husband, not stare at a wall with his cock stuffed in me,” she sniffed.
Lorcan laughed. “Ok, Ok, I get it. You’re lucky I’m done with my chapter.”
She whined as he lifted her off his length. She felt horribly cold and empty until he flipped her around on her back and kneeled in between her legs.
“That wasn’t even five minutes, just so you know,” Lorcan said, stroking his slick cock and glancing down to her red pussy.
“Bullshit,” she gasped as her husband gripped her thighs and hauled her towards him so her legs were resting over his hips. “Felt like an hour.”
He hummed. “I should fuck you for an hour, so you have a frame of reference next time we do this.” He laid a wide spread hand on her stomach and moved his hand up her torso.
“What a perfect little wife you are,” he whispered. Elide gulped; his hand covered nearly her entire chest, and his fingers graced the hollow of her throat.
“Please,” she gasped, licking her lips and shifting her hips to graze his cock.
“So tiny, but like you were made for me.” He looked down to where they were almost joined. His cock jutted obscenely out over her stomach.
“Is this what you imagined?” He asked, dragging the head of his cock over her clit before settling at her entrance. “When you told me that I’m a DILF, and how excited that makes you?”
Elide couldn’t answer, her eyes darting between Lorcan’s dark gaze and his thick cock so close to where she wanted him.
He squeezed her thighs. “Well?”
“Yes,” she said in a broken whisper. “Yes, I imagined you fucking me so hard -“
Lorcan pushed into her in one hard stroke and Elide lost her train of thought. Lost every thought she’d ever had, honestly, as Lorcan gripped her waist and set a hard pace.
Elide grabbed Lorcan’s forearms as he pounded into her, needing to feel even more of his warm body and to keep herself from moving around the bed with the power of his thrusts. She threw her head back at a particularly rough thrust.
“Fuck Lorcan,” she groaned, aware that she couldn’t be as loud as she wanted with Jack in the room next door.
“God, you’re always so tight,” he grunted out, wrapping his arms around her thighs and hauling her lower half off the bed and further into his lap, letting him thrust even deeper inside her. “Feel so good. Is this hard enough for you?”
“Yes!” Her orgasm inched closer and closer. She reached down and started circling her clit rapidly. If he kept fucking her just like this, and she kept touching herself…
“I wonder how turned on you’d get if we had another,” he said, staring down at her intently. “You wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off me, would you?”
Lorcan didn’t get an answer as Elide came, squeezing her eyes shut and biting her lip to keep herself quiet. Warmth spread throughout her body as her orgasm traveled along her nerves, lighting her up from the inside. She was vaguely aware of a muffled groan above her and more warmth between her legs as Lorcan came.
He dropped her limp legs and bracketed his arms next to Elide’s head, careful not to crush her as he gave her a gentle kiss before rolling beside her. They lay in blissful silence for a few moments, each focusing on slowing their erratic breathing, when Lorcan let out a huff of air, then another, until he started chuckling.
“DILFs of Disneyland. How many likes did the post have?”
“Hm?” Elide mumbled, halfway to falling asleep.
“Were there a lot of comments on my post? I only saw about a dozen.”
“A lot of… what?”
“Any chance you can check your phone?”
She propped herself on one elbow to stare at Lorcan, brows furrowed. “What? You don’t know anything about Instagram or how it works.”
Lorcan rolled his eyes. “Of course I know how Instagram works. I browse it every now and then.”
“How? Your phone doesn’t have any apps!”
“The desktop.”
“Your old desktop computer?” Elide asked, flabbergasted. “I didn’t realize that thing still worked. And whose accounts are you looking at?”
“Yours, obviously.”
Oh. “Lorcan,” Elide said, grinning softly. “That’s so sweet -“
“And the DILFs of Disneyland page.”
The grin vanished from her face. “What.”
“Yeah, Rowan showed it to me when I told him we were coming here, and he said he and Aelin and their girl are planning a trip later this year. I bet him I could not only get featured on the DILFs of Disneyland Instagram account, but also get more likes than him if he manages to get featured too.”
Elide stared at her smug husband, slack jawed. “So the entire day you insisted on holding and wheeling Jack around -“
“Was because I wanted to spend time with him and so your ankle wouldn’t get sore and we’d have to leave early,” he said gently, bringing her down to lay on his chest. “But if it also meant there were lots of opportunities for me to look hot as hell while holding Jack, then that was nice too.”
“You self centered ass,” Elide said, lightly smacking his shoulder as Lorcan laughed. Elide couldn’t help but join in, shaking her head all the while.
“Well, what did you two idiots bet on?”
“Bragging rights and the loser has to get a shirt for the winner proclaiming them the official DILF of Disneyland.”
“If you somehow win, that will be a bedroom shirt only,” Elide warned.
“Definitely not. I’m gonna wear it around all the time. Get fucked, Rowan.”
“Then you’ll be the one to explain to Jack what a DILF is.”
“This is great,” Lorcan said, pointedly ignoring Elide. “As soon as we get back, I’m gonna email him my DILF pictures -“
“God, you’re such an old man,” Elide laughed, throwing herself dramatically on the bed next to him. “Living up to the reputation of dads being terrible with technology.”
“I make up for it in other ways, don’t I?” he breathed against her neck, his lips trailing past her collarbone and breasts and stomach and then even lower.
“Oh! Yes, I suppose you do have your strengths,” Elide mused breathlessly as Lorcan settled his head between her thighs.
Unfortunately for Elide, Lorcan received his DILF of Disneyland shirt from Rowan, and he gloated insufferably. Fortunately for her, though, Lorcan made sure to show his wife how he became a DILF, and she couldn’t walk straight for two days.
She had to give it to them: the DILFs of Disneyland account really was the happiest place on Instagram.
#elorcan#elide lochan#elide x lorcan#lorcan salvaterre#throne of glass#tog#my fics#my fic#this is so dumb#but i still had a blast writing it#also please someone have pity on me and teach me how to make better mood board things
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The Rat
EL Novio Quarantine Edition: Part 2
AN: Here's Part 2. It was suuposed to be posted yesterday but I spent the whole day out running errands, and I got home late. Hope you enjoy
Warnings: Mentions of dog bites, blood, waiting room scene, some sex jokes, baby talk and baby fever (idk if it’s baby fever but yeah lol)
Word Count: 2.2k
"Your mans fans can't be this oblivious." Medelyn told Claudia, sliding her phone to read yet another tweet about Calum and Claudia's friendship.
At the start of quarantine, fans were surprised to see that Calum was in Torrey Pines and not at his house in Los Angeles. They weren't surprised to see him at the Santos' home. They all gathered that he has become a friend of the family. Some of their fans joked that he was using Claudia to get to Diego so he can then get to Guy Fieri since he obsessively watched Guy's Grocery Games. Some fans didn't think much of it, they were just happy to get Calum content whenever Claudia would record him trying her baking goods for TikTok.
The one thing that they never guessed is that they were dating. The few fans that listened to Claudia's podcast knew that her boyfriend was staying with her and her family. They just didn't know her boyfriend is Calum.
"They are." Claudia said, taking a large gulp of her licuado. "They're still trying to figure out if the girl from Taylor's party and Benito's album release are the same person. They're struggling because my hair was straight in New York and curly in Miami."
"Stop," Medelyn laughed. "Speaking of your mans, where is he?"
"He took Duke and Panchito out on a walk. My dad doesn't need him at the restaurant until later."
"I still can't believe Diego is making him make deliveries."
"He's gotta pull his weight." Claudia joked.
Medelyn went to check on her sleeping newborn in the living room where he slept on a bassinet. She came back a few minutes later to keep talking to Claudia. It was still a surprise to anyone that knew them back in high school to see them get along. A few weeks ago they talked about it in Claudia's podcast and dissected why they didn't like each other in high school. It had mostly to do with the internalized misogyny and how because they were both latina, they both couldn't be at the top. One of them had to fail while the other was successful. Listeners compared it to how Naomi Campbell and Tyra Banks were pitted against each other. But unlike the supermodels, Claudia and Medelyn were able to put their differences aside and eventually became friends.
The barking of multiple dogs was heard out in the front yard. Claudia got up from where she was sitting and went to see what was going on. The front door opened and closed as she tied her shoes.
"That fucking rat has it out for Duke and Panchito and it's owner has it out on me." Calum cursed, unclipping Duke and Panchito's leashes.
Claudia scoffed and watched him take off his shoes. "You're being dramatic. Mrs. Garner and her dog are literally so nice."
"The rat nearly attacked Panchito. If it weren't for Duke, we'd be on our way to the animal hospital."
"Ah ha okay."
"Claudia, I'm being serious." Calum got up and put away the leashes in the coat closet. "If you get bitten by that rat then don't come crying that you need a ride to the hospital."
***
"How the fuck did we end up watching three kids and a baby?" Claudia asked Calum as she slipped on some leggings. "They're not even ours."
"Because you wouldn't let me battle your brother in rock paper scissors. You're so predictable when you play." He said.
Calum leaned back on her bed and watched her get changed for their hike. It wasn't really a hike, they're just going to walk on the dirt trail behind the neighborhood with her niece and nephews while Danny and Medelyn spend some time together.
He gently smacked Claudia's ass a few times, watching it bounce against the fabric of her leggings. "I fucking love your ass."
"And I love yours. Jesse is a miracle worker." She said repeating his actions.
Calum rolled his eyes and followed Claudia out of her room to the living room. Guito, Paloma and Damian sat on the couch watching Duck Tales as they passed a giant bowl of popcorn. The three kids looked nothing alike, but it was obvious they were Junior and Marlene's kids. They all had distinct features from their parents. After spending time with them, it always left Calum wondering about how his kids with Claudia would look like.
Of course they haven't talked about having kids anytime soon. Claudia was about to graduate and attend grad school at UCLA. Calum knew better than to get in the way of her academic future. For now he just kept the thought of kids to himself. He also knew that Diego would murder him if he uttered baby making and Claudia in the same sentence.
Claudia emerged from the kitchen with a lunch bag and waters. She squatted down in front of the stroller and put in the things in the bottom basket along with the diaper bag Medelyn packed for them. She turned back and caught Calum's eyes permanently glued on her ass.
"I'm gonna ask Danny for a rematch." he said, pushing himself up from the couch.
"No you're not." Medelyn said, stopping him. "We need this. We stopped having sex the minute I couldn't see my feet. And add the forty days I couldn't do anything. We need this."
"Cal, don't worry. We'll be back in a blink. Danny is gonna need at most five minutes." Claudia said. She wrapped her arms around him, and pushed back his growing curls. She kissed his cheek and whispered. "When we get back I'll suck your dick."
"Let's get this show on the road." Calum told the kids. "When we get back, Danny and Medelyn can take all of you to Coldstone."
"Can we get Ice Cream cake?" Paloma quietly asked him.
"Sure."
The three kids cheered. One by one, they went to the front door and put on their shoes. Calum carried the stroller down the steps and helped Claudia put Sebastian in the stroller. After spending a good five minutes on the importance of 'Slip-Slop-Slap' and sunscreen, the party of six plus Duke and Panchito were on their way. The kids walked just a few feet ahead of Claudia while she pushed the stroller. Calum stayed back with Duke and Panchito. He didn't mind, the trail was slightly slanted and it gave him a spectacular view of Claudia's ass.
About halfway around the trial they all stopped at a bench under a tree. The kids sat down and ate some Gansitos. Claudia set down two bowls of water for Duke and Panchito to drink.
"You think they're done?" Calum asked Claudia when sat on the ground.
“Honestly, the last thing on my mind is how long my brother takes o fuck his girlfriend.” She said reaching over for her water.
He took off his windbreaker, leaving him shirtless. He stretched and flexed his muscles.
"You're so rude." Claudia said before taking a large gulp from her pink Hydro Flask.
They stayed in the shades area for another half an hour and then turned back home. Claudia and Calum fell into step while the kids raced each other distances determined by what they saw on the ground. They made a quick pit stop at the kids' house because Damian had too much water. He couldn't hold it until they got back to Claudia's house, who lived four houses up the same street.
When they got to the house, they found Danny and Medelyn passed out on the couch while 'Sortilegio' played in the background. Claudia placed Sebastian on his bassinet and unclipped Duke and Panchito's leashes. Damian and Guito stayed outside wanting to play some soccer with Calum. So Claudia and Paloma migrated to the kitchen to make some brownies.
Paloma left to play on her iPad the second Claudia placed the baking dish on the oven, leaving her to do all the cleaning.
A loud growl followed by a scream came from outside where Calum and the boys were. The front door slammed open with Calum carrying Damian with Guito following him.
"The rat bit him." Calum told Claudia when he sat Damian on the counter.
"Let me see." Medelyn said motioning Calum to step aside. She snapped her fingers at them. "Someone get me a first aid. Hopefully he doesn't need stitches."
Calum went to the pantry and grabbed the box hanging on the wall. Medelyn took it and got to work on Damian's arm.
After five minutes of tending the bite, Medelyn wrapped up his arm in a gauze and motioned Calum, Claudia and Danny.
"He needs stitches. The cut is pretty deep and he may need a shot, too." She said.
"Fuck." Danny cursed.
"I'll take him." Calum volunteered.
"I'll go with you." Claudia said.
After lots of convincing and crying, Damian, Claudia and Calum were on their way to a community clinic. Claudia's knee bounced while they waited for Damian's name to be called. He had fallen asleep on Calum's arms.
She texted Junior and Marlene updates. They were waiting outside in the parking lot for them. Ten more minutes pass until they call for Damian. Claudia stayed back while Calum went with him since he was there when the bite happened. Half an hour later they came out.
"So?" Claudia asked anxiously.
"The nurse gave Tío Cal her number, but he said no thank you." Damian said sticking a Spider-Man sticker on his shirt.
"Oh?" Claudia quirked an eyebrow at him.
"I still got it." Calum smirked.
"You say that as if you're fifty and not twenty-four." She snorted.
They made their way to the parking lot. Damian let go of Claudia's hand and went to hug his mom. He proudly told Junior and Marlene that the stitches and the shot didn't hurt. Calum briefly told them what happened and how the someone from the Humane Society was going to over in a few days to put the dog on house arrest.
Damian rode with his parents on the way back to Claudia's. The car ride was quiet. Calum and Claudia didn't even bother to put on music or a podcast.
"You okay?" she asked him when they got to her house. "Regret not taking the nurse's number?"
"Funny," He said. He took off his cap and scratched his head. "Just thinking about Damian and everything. I don't know, I just feel like this is my fault. Obviously it's not, I wasn't the one who bit him nor that was my dog. But I just can't help thinking that if we played in the backyard like we always do, he wouldn't have gotten bitten."
"I have no idea how to respond because I don't wanna dismiss what you're feeling, ya know. But I just wanna say that I'm very impressed at how responsive and on top of it you were. Like when we have kids, I'm not gonna worry because I know you'll be at my side ready." She said.
"When?" Calum asked.
Claudia's eyes widened, realizing what she said.
"Shit. I didn't mean it like that. Like today when we babysat. You knew what to do and stuff…"
"Miss Santos do you wanna have my children?" He teased her. Noting how uncomfortable she got, he stopped laughing. He cleared his throat and silently counted to five. "Would you ever want kids?" With me? He added in his head.
Claudia stopped playing with the elastic on her facemask and turned on her side and faced him. Calum mirrored her actions and shyly smiled at her.
"I didn't think we'd have this talk so soon." She giggled.
"Better sooner than later." he shrugged. "I'd want some or at least one."
"Yeah?"
"Preferably with you of course. But if Katy Perry drops Orlando Bloom, then we go our separate ways."
"That's fine, I'll just hit him up." She giggled. "Jokes aside, I do want kids. Just not right now. I mean we're in a pandemic for fucks sake. I also feel like it's too soon. Like my parents and brothers had their kids pretty young. I don't want to be responsible for someone when I'm barely learning to take care of me, you know? Like once we're more settled down and whatnot we can talk about starting a family. But for now I don't wanna share you with anyone."
"I agree with you 100%." Calum said, pulling her to kiss her. He pulled away. "We probably shouldn't kiss after coming from a clinic."
"You're right." Claudia laughed, pulling away from him. She pointed behind her. "Plus my dad's watching us."
***
Claudia and Calum took out their grocery bags from Calum's car when someone cleared their throat behind them. It was Mrs. Garner, the owner of the dog that bit Damian. A few days ago the Humane Society came by and put her poodle mix on house arrest for two weeks.
"Hi, Mrs. Garner." Claudia greeted, pulling up her mask to cover her nose and mouth.
"You're going to regret the day you crossed me and reported my baby, mark my words. You don't know who you're messing with."
With that Mrs. Garner turned on her heel and went back to her house.
"What the fuck?" Claudia said, trying not to laugh.
"C'mon, your ice cream and dino nuggets are going to melt." Calum motioned her.
Claudia turned back to Mrs. Garner's house and then back to Calum. "Has she always had cameras in front of her house?"
Taglist: @f-mu @another-lonely-heart @sunshinebabycal-deactivated2021 @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @cherryxwildflower @myloverboyash @idontneedanyone @findingliam-o @5-secondsofcolor @spicycal @sexgodashton @fckingpernico @2fangirl4u @calpops
#calum hood fluff#calum hood imagine#calum hood blurb#calum hood one shot#calum hood fanfic#calum hood imagines#calum hood one shots#el novio quarantine edition#El Novio series
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Best Friend’s Brother - Klaus Hargreeves
You work for a PI (private investigation) firm and are in charge of managing informants. One informant in particular is quite good at his job and you both grow quite close. If he was in a different line of work, he might even consider you to be his best friend. However, one day, Diego Hargreeves gives you a tip that changes everything.
“You’re sure this is the right address?” You ask quietly, slipping the now folded piece of paper into your jacket pocket. Once you’re certain it’s secure, you scan the growing crowd of people gathering in the park. Mothers walking with strollers and gaggles of children nipping at their heels passed by joggers running alongside dogs on leashes. All normal, or so it seemed.
“Have I ever let you down before? Huh?” The question pulls your eyes to the man sitting beside you. A smug grin his spread across his smooth features, brown eyes glinting with confidence. When you first met Diego Hargreeves, you thought said confidence was arrogance but over time, he proved to be an invaluable ally and an even better friend.
“Don’t get cocky,” you retort with a raised brow. “You know that this important. It could be a big bust if the target is there.”
“Ooh,” Diego hums, “I love it when you talk investigator to me.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at his teasing.
“Not an investigator,” you grumble before standing on wobbly legs from the park bench you had been sitting on. Diego mirrors your action, linking your arm in his as he begins to walk. You cave into his play and fall into step beside him.
“Not an investigator, yet,” he corrects with a sly smirk. “You know you could come work with me, Y/N. You wouldn’t have to work through the ranks then, could be out in the field, in the action.” You kept your eyes forward, focusing on each step you took for you knew that the moment you looked at Diego he would see how you longed for what he described.
“It would also be illegal,” you pointed out and a chuckle from Diego allowed you to slip your arm from his. “I quite like my job, Diego. Plus, if we worked together, would we still be friends?”
“You think I would get tired of you? Never,” he teased, giving you a wink as you walked backwards away from him.
“You’re right,” you said, shouting a little now as the distance between the two of you grew. “But I would get tired of you, knife-boy!” You hear Diego laugh when you turn your back to him. The sound echoes in your ear as you walk back to the complex your PI firm works out of. It was small, bricks cracked and a few rats skittering about. Despite the lackluster exterior, it housed the job you loved. There were downsides to it, but you knew that if you stuck around, it would pay off. You had already met your best friend who, when you looked past the outwards machismo, was a good man. Diego trusted you and you him. What more could you ask for?
The address Diego had given lead you and the other investigators you worked with to a dingey looking alleyway the next day. While you weren’t active in the raid that took place, you did have the pleasure of watching the perpetrators being cuffed. It was a satisfying sight to behold. The client who had enlisted your firm’s aid was soon called and you watched as a Rolls Royce drove up to the scene.
“Jonathan!” A woman with a head of large, blonde hair screeched the name as she stepped out of the vehicle. You were clambering out of your car as well, hoping to catch up with her. Working as the PI firm’s secretary came with the wonderfully dreadful obligation to deal with rather vocal clients. You remembered this one, her lips stained an obnoxious ruby red when she had filed for investigation on her son.
“Mrs. Warmberg! Wait,” you shouted, and the woman spun around on her deadly looking heels. Her icy blue eyes were alight with fury, her face screwed up in a vile scowl.
“Wait?! You caught my son!” Panting slightly, you hurried up to her halted form. “I’m here to punish him for his...his..dastardly deeds!” As you catch your breath, you began to explain.
“We did, yes. Now the police have been notified and he will be detained. You can speak with him then,” you clarify. Mrs. Warmberg didn’t seem to like the logic as she continued her charge towards her son. You groaned and followed close behind her. “Mrs. Warmberg!”
“Ma’am,” another investigator intervened, holding her back. “The police are on their way to pick up your son and his dealers.”
“I’m not a dealer! Just an innocent bystander!” Shouted one of the men cuffed alongside Mrs. Warmberg’s son. This one was slim, with heavy eye makeup giving him an even more sickly appearance. He did have charming features though, complete with a smile that was wide with the hopes of conveying his self-proclaimed innocence. You let out a chuckle and the men’s eyes flitted towards you. Before the man could speak, you overheard the other investigator mumble something while Mrs. Warmberg continued to whine.
“Y/N, can you watch them while I,” he gestured to Mrs. Warmberg and you nodded quickly, overjoyed to be relieved from Mrs. Warmberg’s presence. As you walked up to the three men cuffed against the brick wall of the alley, the one that had shouted moments before looked you up and down. You felt your cheeks warm under his prying eyes.
“You don’t look like a detective,” he mused, his voice ladened with amusement. “Too...too pretty.”
“You look like a junkie,” you counter and the man grins. If he weren’t cuffed or at odds with you, you would have dared to describe his smile as handsome.
“Touche,” he purred, “but really. You look too nice to get your rocks off from fighting wheezing smokers and trust fund babies.” You roll your eyes to try to distract from the blush nipping at your cheeks. The other two men, the dealer and Jonathan, glanced at each other then back to the two of you.
“You’re not just smokers,” you bite back, but your tone isn’t as cold as you hoped it would be. What you said didn’t matter at this point, but anything you could gleam from the man now could be used against him.
“How do you know?” The man shot back, the smile on his lips spreading a bit wider. You opened your mouth, ready to fire a retort but nothing came to mind. “You don’t even know our names. Maybe that’s why you’re not a detective.”
Now your face was burning. Red clouded your vision, blotting out the charming expression the man wore. If it weren’t for his sparkling green eyes staring at you, you would have stayed silent. Something about him enticed you, coaxed the words you were dying to say out from your mouth. You simply had to know.
“Then what is your name?” Your question seems to shock him, his smile faltering when your voice reaches his ears. The dealer chuckled and nudged Jonathan smugly.
“Look at ‘im! He’s all quiet now!” Jonathan laughed too and the nameless man’s cheeks dusted pink. Jonathan was beginning to tease him when Mrs. Warmberg spoke up.
“Not a word, Jonathan! You’re in deep trouble!” The young man’s mouth slammed shut in embarrassment and the man you were talking to seemed to come back to his senses.
“Klaus,” he answers, finally. His green eyes peering up at you, all curious and waiting. Waiting for you to tell him your name you realize.
“Last name?” You press him further, wanting to be able to search his name in a database later. The man, Klaus, curled his lips together, mentally debating whether to answer.
“Ha-Hargreeves,” he mutters, barely audible above the racket around you all. The name rings a bell, pulls a face up from your memory until the connection becomes clear. Diego, it was Diego Hargreeves that echoed in your mind. The thread between you and Klaus.
“Hargreeves?” You simply can not quantify how much weight that last name holds for your heart. Could this Klaus be related to Diego, your best friend?
“Y-yeah,” Klaus replied, “does it mean something to you?” He squints at you, trying to get a read on your expression but you hide it by speaking once more.
“I’m Y/N,” you say quickly and Klaus’ intrigue on your features seems deterred.
“That’s quite the name,” he coos smoothly, “I like it.” You’re about to question him, his motives, his family when three of New York’s finest begins to make their way towards you all.
“Damn it man,” the dealer grumbled, “your momma is a crazy lady! You busted all of us!” Jonathan frowns and keeps his face turned to the ground. Klaus follows the dealer’s line of sight and sees the officers approaching.
“Well, Y/N, it seems our date has been cut short.” You stifle a scoff as the policemen and women pull the three men to their feet. “You’re always welcomed to pay me a visit in the slammer,” Klaus drawls, sending you a wink as well. “There’s always room in my cell for you.”
“I’m sure there is,” you joke back, but there is little humor in your voice. Klaus seems to detect your lapse of interest because, just as he is forced into the patrol car, he spares a glance in your direction. His bright green eyes meet your gaze and you feel your heart skip a beat; but then he’s gone and you’re left with your thoughts again.
“Two visits in one week? Business must be taking off,” Diego teases, nudging your shoulder with his own. Immediately after the drug bust, you had texted Diego about meeting up. You had been vague with the details about the meet up but your goal was to ask about Klaus.
“You could say that,” you sighed, falling on the seat of the bench beside him. “I actually have some questions about your last tip. There were more people than we thought.”
“You called me here because I did my job too well? Wow, this is a first,” he chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee. It had become a friend tradition to meet a cafe on official business before walking to the nearby park. You almost opted to forego the coffee but didn’t want to catch Diego totally unawares. You wanted to get the truth from him rather than the firm’s criminal database.
“Did you know there would be other people besides the boy and the dealer?” Diego met your eyes and you quickly realized he knew you weren’t just on official PI business.
“I did,” he confirmed, “but I don’t see why this is a point of interest. You guys got paid just the same.” You nodded and traced your thumb around the lip of your untouched tea. The travel mug had long since absorbed the heat and your palms felt the sting.
“It isn’t the concern of the firm’s,” you explained, with a shaking breath, “it’s a concern of mine.” Diego raised an eyebrow at you, brown eyes squinted with interest.
“Why is that?” His voice was chilled but not yet as bitter as your ignored tea.
“Because,” you began, meeting his eyes, “you’re my best friend, Diego.” His mouth fell open for a moment but he quickly closed it. Being his closest friend, you knew that he did his best to keep his walls up. It had taken you nearly a year of working with him to get him to open up as much as he had with you.
“O-okay,” he stuttered out, “ask y-your questions then.” You gave him a grateful smile and took a deep breath before continuing.
“Did you know who else would be there? Like, specifically who?” You held Diego’s eyes with your own, ready to search his face for any sign of recognition. A wave of understanding washed over his features and you sighed. “You did.”
“Listen,” Diego was beginning to explain, but you were already retreating to your thoughts. “I knew if someone could set him on the right path it would be you, Y/N. He just...he needed to get off the streets for a while.”
“He’s your brother,” you murmur softly, shaking your head. “You wanted me to arrest your brother instead of reaching out to him yourself.” Diego grumbled something under his breath and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Our family...it’s complicated, Y/N. I just needed to know he was safe.”
“He’s still in a cell!” Your voice, louder than before, managed to catch the attention of a few passersby. Quietly, you added, “he’s waiting for someone to help him out, Diego.”
“I can’t,” he said, holding your gaze intensely. “If I could, I would, but Klaus...he...he won’t listen. Not to me.” You scoff and cross your arms over your chest indignantly.
“You don’t have to be so stubborn,” you chastise, “he’s your brother!”
“Adopted,” Diego adds with a timid half-smile. You only glare in response. “Y/N, you know that I...I don’t like to connect often with people. I haven’t connected with my family in years. Can you see why I wanted you to do it?” You huff in thought, not meeting his gaze.
“I can,” you answer, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll do it.” Diego nods silently, but surprises you when he grabs your hand. You look up at him to find a pleading expression.
“As my best friend-”
“Only friend,” you correct. Diego chuckles but continues anyway.
“As my best and only friend, I need you to do this for me. Please.” His gaze doesn’t break from yours once and you know he means what he says. You squeeze his hand gently and, finally, nod.
“I’ll take care of him,” you sigh and Diego smiles. “Is there anything I should know about him?” And then Diego’s smile fades.
“Y/N! Ah, my knight in shining armor!” Klaus’ voice rings in your ear the moment you step foot inside the jail. The police officer leading you give you a look and you nod.
“This one?” He gestures to Klaus, who is pressed eagerly against the bars, with his thumb. Klaus is beaming at you, batting his eyes like a star-struck girl. You can’t tell if he’s being over dramatic or if he’s truly glad to see you.
“That’s the one,” you sigh and the officer shrugs to himself before unlocking the cell. Klaus tumbles out of the cell and right into you. Just as he stumbles and nearly knocks his head against yours, you catch his shoulders.
“Ah, truly my savor,” he coos and you roll your eyes. Diego had failed to mention his charming flirtations when he recited a list of character flaws to you. Perhaps because it wasn’t that much of a flaw in the first place.
“All the paperwork is done,” the officer grumbled, “just like you said it would be.” You smile at him and nod. “Keep him out of trouble.”
“I’ll try my best,” you reply before striding out of the small cell-block. Klaus follows quickly behind you, laughing when the dealer from the bust questions him about his escape.
“I have friends in high places,” Klaus jeers and sends the man a wink. You try not to pay attention to the way Klaus says ‘friends’. It doesn’t hold the same weight it does when Diego says it. ‘Friends’ feels lighter in Klaus’ voice, almost like it is a sticker that could be easily removed and replaced with another.
You lead the lanky man out of the police headquarters and out to the bustling streets of the city. Klaus smiles at the sight of sunshine, stretching his arms up as if to embrace it. A pleased, relieved sigh escapes his lips as he stretches and you let yourself take in his form. The long coat he is wearing seems much too warm for the present climate, but the attire beneath it, a short cropped shirt and loose shorts, is better suited to the heat. Diego had warned you about his brother’s strange fashion sense.
“Thanks for busting me outta there,” Klaus chimed, breaking you from your observations. “Really, I can’t thank you enough.” Then, as if his words held no value at all, Klaus spun on his heels and began to walk away from you.
“Whoa, hey,” you exclaimed, running after him. He stopped mid stride and lifted his green eyes to your gaze with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes?”
“You’re coming home with me,” you blurted in a rush. Your cheeks burned when you realized how that had sounded. Klaus was only grinning.
“Oh really? I didn’t know that-”
“Not like that,” you bark, even if the idea of it made you heart twinge. Klaus furrowed his brow and stuck out his bottom lip in a pout. “You’re going to get clean.”
“What?!” His entire demeanor changed all at once. His hunched back straightened like an arrow and his face drew blank.
“I convinced the officers that arrested you to negate your fines and sentence on the promise you would get clean.” It was a lie, a well rehearsed line. Diego had paid for Klaus’ bail with what money he had saved as long as you promised to watch him.
“That wasn’t...why...you can’t…” Klaus’ hands went to his head with his fingers entangling in his dark hair. It was then you noticed just how soft it looked.
“You were right,” you interrupt and Klaus looks at you with slight panic in his eyes. “I’m not really a detective, but I am someone who keeps their promises. Now, are you going to come willingly or do I have to get help from inside.” You gesture the the police department doors with your head and Klaus groans.
“No,” he mutters before standing at your side. “Lead the way.”
Much to your surprise, Klaus was quiet for the duration of the walk to your apartment. Not a single sound passed over his lips, which was more alarming than his shameless flirting. Every so often, your hand would brush against Klaus’ and you would force yourself to keep staring forwards. It was so tempting to look down, see your hands in the same space together and wonder what holding them together would feel like. As soon as such a thought entered your mind you would shake it away. You couldn’t, just couldn’t. Or maybe you wouldn’t, because of Diego. Doubts assaulted your brain as you lead Klaus up the stairs to your apartment.
“I know it isn’t much,” you said, unlocking the door and pushed it open. “It will have to do until...ya know.” Klaus stepped inside, eyes wandering around the only home you had known since moving to the city.
“It’s more of a home than any other place I’ve lived in,” Klaus said and you were relieved to hear his voice once more. He turned to face you then, his features heavy with some unreadable emotion. “So...we’re roomies now?”
“Yeah,” you said with a smile, “we’re roomies.” Klaus picks up on your smile, the corner of his mouth turning upwards in a slight grin. “There’s a small guest room down the hall so you can get settled in there if you want.”
“Sounds good,” Klaus says, already heading towards the hallway. He stops suddenly, his hand gripping the corner before turning to look at you. “Thank you, Y/N.”
“You’re welcome, Klaus,” you reply and he walks towards his room. You watch him saunter down the hall, the tapping of his sneakers against the floor a new sound to the apartment’s history of silence. Perhaps living with Klaus would turn out better than you thought. All you had to do was make sure your best friend’s brother stayed sober.
“I don’t see why you insist on Peking Garden when The Golden Dragon is far superior.” All you could do was sigh heavily as Klaus spoke through his mouth full of egg roll. “Like, I’m eating this, but I’m not happy about it.”
“Uh-huh, sure you’re not,” you tease, pulling out another take out box from the large paper bag in front of you. Klaus’ green eyes widened at the sight and stopped chewing.
“Is that what I think it is?”
“If ‘what you think it is’ is General Tso’s Chicken, you’re right,” you chime. Before you can even open to show him the contents of the container, Klaus has snatched it from your grasp and retreated to the couch. You had grown used to his habit of eating anywhere that wasn’t actually the kitchen table or counter. It was one of the many quirks you had started to admire.
Klaus was so unique and you had gotten a sense of the extent of that over the two months you had lived together. It was rough the first few weeks. The withdrawal symptoms had taken their toll on Klaus and yourself. Long nights of him moaning and groaning in pain on the bathroom floor. Sweating despite the air conditioning and the snappy attitude. Somehow, you both made it through alive. Although, every now and then, a few symptoms would show up again; a reminder that staying sober was a constant choice and struggle.
“Thank you, Y/N for getting me my favorite food,” you mocked Klaus’ voice teasingly, “I will do the dishes for the next two weeks to show you just how much I appreciate it.” You grabbed your own food and made your way over to the couch to join him. Klaus was already half-way through the chicken when you sat down.
“I can show you in other ways you know,” Klaus fired back, trying on his best seductive voice and wiggling his eyebrows. You stared at him with a straight face until Klaus frowned. “Someone is a wittle cranky,” he said in a childish voice, “are you cranky?”
He reached for your face and squished your cheeks together so your lips resembled that of a cartoon fish’s mouth. Klaus laughed at the sight and you pushed his hand away. You did your best to suppress the smile that threatened to show along your lips and the blush that rose to your cheeks. One thing you hadn’t gotten entirely used to was Klaus’ shows of affection and his endless flirting. It had been one of the first things you noticed about him and you figured it would die down as you lived together longer; but it hadn’t.
It had persisted to the point where you had asked Diego about it. You met up with him on official business one day and ended up talking about Klaus. Now, it felt like all you talked to anyone about was Klaus. Your friends swore that the two of you were dating and your colleagues at the firm often teased you about your plans to ‘reform the junkie’. Diego was no different, joking around about how Klaus doesn’t flirt with just anyone.
“Stop it,” you had pleaded, “I’m serious!”
“So am I!” Diego beamed then, “Klaus has a type and you’re it.”
You often forget or cut the memory of Diego’s words from your mind. Klaus was in condition to think about you, or anyone else for that matter, romantically. At least, that’s what you thought. So you ignored the times when you had caught him staring at you a bit longer than normal or threw an arm over your shoulders in public. Friendly touches were just Klaus’ thing. It was just Klaus.
“Do you want me to do the dishes?” Klaus’ question broke you from your reverie.
“I would like you to,” you reply, “I’ve told you to do them since Monday.” Klaus smiled sheepishly and nodded.
“I guess I just forgot.” You let out a huff, shaking your head.
“You must have a selective memory because I’ve told you more than once.” A chuckle passed through Klaus, one so powerful you could feel it rumble against the couch cushions.
“Perhaps I do,” he beamed, “but we’ll never know for sure because my memory is shit!” Klaus stuffed the last few bites of food in his mouth, a happy hum slipping from his lips.
“You’re easy to please,” you remark with a smirk. Klaus swallows his food and stacks the empty containers on the coffee table before him on top of each other.
“That’s right,” Klaus cheered, “all I need is food and someone who loves me enough to order me more.” He leans over and pecks your cheek softly, though the figurative impact sent your mind reeling. You spared a glance at him, one that conveyed your shock simply with wide eyes, only to find Klaus smiling at you contently.
Before you could speak up, call his actions and words into question, Klaus stood from the couch. He stretched and sighed loudly as he picked up the take out boxes. Watching as he threw the containers in the trash, you wondered if Klaus had truly meant anything with what he said. He had used the word ‘love’, said it in a way he hadn’t before.
‘Love’ was a word Klaus seemed to apply to things and people liberally. Just last week he ‘loved’ the cheese used Diana’s Pizza place and said that he ‘loved’ the refreshing take of a character on a weekly, late-night soap opera. Klaus ‘loved’ Queen and The Cure and cookies; was it possible that he could love you in the present tense? The idea was outlandish to you, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t entertained hypotheticals.
“Y/N?” Klaus’ sing-song voice pulled your attention back to the moment and out of your own mind. You turned to look at him, a pink flush on your cheeks.
“Yes? What?” Klaus smiled, resting his hands on his hips in a sassy pose. He leaned forward as if he were peering into your soul. Under his eyes, you felt such an intensity you had to tear your gaze from his.
“I was asking if you wanted to see a flick? Go to the movies maybe?” His tone reminded you of a child, weary but wishful.
“I, if you want to go you can go yourself,” you suggest, clearing your throat. You sneak a tentative peek at Klaus, gauging his reaction. To your astonishment, he is frowning. Disappointment is clear on his features, but you don’t look too long before he peers back up at you with curiosity.
“Do you have work or something?” You met his eyes for a moment and shake your head.
“No,” you reply nonchalantly, “why do you ask?” You turn your attention back to your food, pushing it around on the plate you had piled it on.
“I mean, it would be...you could come to the movies with me.” You smile to yourself and glance at him. It felt like just yesterday he was pleading for you to let him outside by himself when you knew all too well that he was searching for the means to get high. Now he didn’t want to go out alone.
“If you want me to, I can go,” you respond quietly, “I just figured that you would want to go by yourself. Independence and all that.” Klaus lets out a short, breathy laugh and shakes his head. You can’t help but smile at the sound.
“Are you kidding? I don’t want to be that creep that sits alone in a theater watching some sad dog movie.” You quirk a brow at him and Klaus’ smile widens. “We’re gonna see a sad dog movie by the way.” You let out a groan and sink deeper into the couch.
“I may have to rethink my offer.”
“This is the last time you pick the movie we see,” you sniffle as you wipe the corner of your eye. Klaus is quiet, dabbing at his own tears quite dramatically as you step out of the theater. A whimper from him and you take the sound as an agreement.
“I didn’t think it would be that...that sad,” Klaus exclaimed. He reached for the door and held it open for you. The blue skies had turned to a crisp black dotted with stars. “An honest mistake, Y/N, really.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I get to choose next time,” you fire back and Klaus nods, giving in. You begin to walk home, the chill of night nipping at your face. A shiver shakes through you and you wrap your arms around yourself as you walk.
“Cold?” Klaus laughs when he sees your arms and, shocking you, he wraps an arm around your waist. Soon, you coated in the warmth emanating from his body. Silence falls between you and you don’t mind it. You relish in it, a stolen moment with just you and Klaus without ‘what ifs’ clouding your mind.
You both walk like that, shared quiet, shared warmth, all the way to your shared home. The thought made you smile to yourself, unable to fathom how you had gotten to where you were. However, the moment you spared a glance up at Klaus as you both walked, the need to understand ceased to be. You didn’t need understanding, you just needed Klaus. That fact terrified and excited you at the same time.
“You’re cute when you cry,” Klaus murmurs suddenly. You crane your neck and study his face with a furrowed brow.
“You get your jollies from watching me cry?” You can’t help but laugh at your own words, the sound mingling with Klaus’ own chuckle.
“I don’t jollies from anything! What even is a jollie?” The moment the question passes over his lips, you are both standing in front of the entrance to the apartment complex. Fumbling with your keys, you unlock the door and you both begin to ascend the stairs.
“You know,” you trail off, letting the term remain vague. You hear Klaus scoff from behind you as you continue to climb the steps.
“I don’t,” he retorts, “that’s why I’m asking.” You sigh heavily but you don’t reply. You turn on the first landing and down the hall to the door to your apartment. “Y/N!”
“What-” Before you could finish, your back is pressed up against the door to your apartment. Klaus looms over you, green eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them. All you could see was Klaus and you didn’t mind that one bit.
“You talk about sex like an old man,” he whispered teasingly. If it weren’t for the fact that his hand was suddenly wrapped around yours, you would have replied with a clever comeback. With his skin on yours, your mind drew a blank. “Jollies,” he smiled, “you’re cute.”
Heat rises to your face and you open your mouth to speak, yet not a word comes out. Instead, Klaus’ fingers work your hand open and plucks the keys from your grip. A new type of tension rests between you and Klaus, only to evaporate when he opens the door behind you. You nearly tumble backwards into your apartment, but Klaus reacts quickly. A warm hand slips around your back and holds you steady.
“Th-thanks,” you quickly free yourself from Klaus’ hold. The arm that had been wrapped around your waist falls slack at his side. With practiced ease, Klaus tosses the keys in the dish beside the door as you make your way to your bedroom.
“Goodnight,” Klaus calls out. You look over your shoulder and give him a quick smile.
“N-Night,” you reply, mentally cursing your nervous stutters. Your mind is whirling as you dress for bed and crawl under the covers. You had to be up early tomorrow to meet Diego. There was no time to entertain ‘should-have-done’ thoughts. Embarrassment steamed from your limbs as you boiled in your own emotional sauna. At least you would be warm as you drifted off to sleep.
Despite the intrusive thoughts, sleep came unusually easy. Memories of your dream was vague. It was all cream colored and soft, like lamb’s wool. The scent of smoke, nicotine permeated the wondrous texture but wasn’t harsh enough to taint the dream itself. Some lucid part of you wanted to cling to the imagery, the warmth forever. It seemed reality had other plans.
The average person would say that waking up to screaming would be terrifying. For you, it was a din you had grown accustomed to. Since the first weeks of Klaus living with you, when withdrawal was at its peak, night terrors replaced the drugs flitting through his mind. Often, those beginning days, you would be scared awake by Klaus’ screeching.
So it was instinct by now, to throw your legs over the side of your bed and crept down the hall to Klaus’ room. The cries only seem to grow louder as you approached. Whatever demons where haunting him tonight were truly vile. Cracking open his door, you caught sight of Klaus thrashing about under his covers. His eyes were screwed shut, his hands grasping at the sheets below him and at his hair.
“Klaus,” you said softly, tiptoeing over to the side of his bed, “Klaus, wake up.” Your hands reached for his shoulders, pressing down lightly. The pressure was enough to still him but he was still yelling. “Hey, hey, you’re alright.”
“Y/N,” he gasped, his hands flying up to your forearms. With your hands still on his shoulders, Klaus was able to wrap his long fingers around your wrists.
“Yeah, it’s me,” you soothe, “you’re alright.” Klaus’ green eyes are bright, sparkling with the fear he felt moments before. The sight breaks your heart.
“I-I...I’m sorry. I didn’t-”
“It’s alright,” you said, giving him a gentle smile. Before you can calm him, tell him you weren’t really sleeping, a yawn forced its way to your face.
“I woke you up,” Klaus whispers, his fingers tracing shapes in the tender skin of your inner wrist. “Y/N, I can just-”
“Quiet,” you interrupt, “now scoot over.” Klaus moves to the side as you let go of his shoulders. Easily, you slip in beside him, resting on your side with your head hitting his pillow. This wasn’t what an entirely awake, clear-headed Y/N would do; but you were so tired and still dizzy from all of Klaus’ flirting during the day that you didn’t care. Klaus didn’t seem to mind either.
“Thank you, Y/N,” he whispers, turning to his side to face you. You give him a lazily, sleep-ridden smile.
“You’re welcome, Klaus.” You try to keep your eyes open but sleep claws you back into its depths. In that haze of falling, you’re still awake enough to know that Klaus’s eyes were still trained on you. With that in mind, you drifted off into darkness.
Morning light would normally greet you when you found enough willpower to open your eyes. However, Klaus’ room was interior and lacked a window. Instead of the sun warming your skin, the warmth came from elsewhere. Slowly, you peeled your eyes wide only to be greeted by Klaus’ face a mere three or so inches from your own. His eyes were downcast, attention focused on his side that was tracing nonsense into a patch of skin your sleep shirt had left exposed during the night.
Klaus had not yet noticed you were awake, let alone staring at him. You couldn’t help but marvel at the way his lashes fanned out, kissing the soft skin of his cheek when he blinked. His pink lips were parted slightly with steady breaths, the very antithesis of his erratic gasping the night before, slipping past the flesh. A few dark wisps of his hair were pressed against his forehead. Nothing you could have done would have quelled the urge to brush them from his face. When your fingertips pushed the hairs to the side, Klaus shifted into the touch.
“Hi,” he said softly, almost like if he spoke any louder your eardrum might burst. Klaus was timid, for the first time in a long time. The hand that was resting, tickling your skin now retracted and found a new spot in the space between your bodies.
“Did you get some sleep?” You hold Klaus’ gaze, reading him for the truth.
“I think so,” he murmurs, “I think I got more hours that I usually do.”
“Good,” you reply, your voice suddenly shy. “That’s good.”
“It is,” Klaus hums, “thanks to you.” Heat rises to your cheeks instantly and you press the side of your face further into the plush pillow.
“What do you mean?” Klaus smiles at you with slightly hooded eyes.
“You know what I mean, Y/N,” he points out, “we’re just both too comfortable to do anything about it.” You swallow thickly and, seeming to notice your unease, Klaus reaches for your hand. “You don’t have to say anything. We don’t have to do anything.”
“No,” you gush, “it’s not that. I just...you’re right. We’re comfortable and I don’t want that to change.” Klaus nods against his own pillow with his fingers playing with your own. His green eyes are trained on your joined hands, plush lips slightly downturned. “Does that make you sad?”
“Not at all,” Klaus whispers, pulling his eyes up to meet yours. “But...if I kiss you, would that be uncomfortable?” Your mouth opens and goes dry all at once. Klaus leans up on his elbow, the covers slipping down his exposed chest. “I mean, I don’t want to push it.”
“I think that would be fine,” you reply, trying to regain your composure. Klaus smiles softly down at you, biting his lower lip as he searches your eyes. You know that he’s looking for more permission, he wants you to want him in the same way he yearns for you. So instead of waiting, you reach a hand up to his face, holding his chin.
The tip of your thumb traces the curve of his lips, brushing against the coarse hairs of his chin. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and his jaw was looking sharper for it. It was a good look for him you muse as you study his features before closing the gap between you. You didn’t know what you expected Klaus’ lips to feel like against your own.
Smoke maybe, the one habit he hadn’t been able to break; perhaps of the spearmint toothpaste he used every night before bed. As Klaus’ lips melded with yours, all hypotheses fell null and void. You felt his right hand grasp at your waist, pulling you closer until your chest was pressed against his own. Trailing down then, his hand gripping your thigh and tugged over his own. The movement, the heat gathering was tantalizing.
Before you had the chance to deepen the kiss, Klaus began to pepper kisses against your jaw. “I’ve wanted this since the day you got me arrested,” Klaus mumbles before breaking out into a chuckle. You begin to laugh as well.
“Really? Wow,” you managed to say. Klaus pressed his face into the crook of your neck, the cold tip of his nose tickling the sensitive skin there. “That’s the most unromantic thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Hm, I thought it was nice,” Klaus whispered teasingly, pressing a soft kiss to the skin below your ear. “Guess I’ll just have to practice, huh?” Klaus dipped his head down then, capturing your lips in another kiss. This one was more heated than the last, your fingers reaching to tangle into his hair. Klaus was tugging your body on top of his, parting your mouth with his tongue when a high-pitched beeping sounded from somewhere else in the apartment.
“Shit!” You quickly stumble out of Klaus’ bed, much to the man’s disappointment.
“That bad?” Klaus tuts and you shake your head as you straighten out your sleepwear.
“No,” you huff, “I’m going to be late.” Klaus smiles as you scurry out his room and into your own across the hall. In record time, you dress and get ready in the bathroom.
You’re putting the finishing touches to your hair, just so it looks presentable, when you notice Klaus leaning against the day frame. There’s a lazy smile on his full, kiss-swollen lips, as his bright eyes blaze trails up and down your figure. His arms are crossed over his still bare chest and you force yourself to tear your eyes away. When you’re satisfied with your work, you step towards him with a raised brow.
“What?”
“You’re stunning,” he says softly and you feel your heart melt in your chest. You reach up and hold his chin, only to pull his lips to yours. This kiss is softer, not rushed despite the internal panic of being late still coursing through your body.
“I’ll be back later,” you mumble against Klaus’ lips as you pull away. Klaus nods and presses a lingering kiss to your cheek.
“And I’ll be here.” You give him a smile before making your way towards the apartment door. You’re still smiling as you descend the steps. With a clear mind, unhindered from thoughts or worries, you come to the conclusion that you could get used to goodbyes like that.
“You’re late,” Diego says flatly, but you don’t miss the grin plastered on his features. “I had to get my coffee all by myself.”
“Like a big boy,” you fire back as you plop down on the bench beside him. “Do you have the name of-”
“Yes, here,” Diego interrupts, extending a slip of paper to you between two of his fingers. You pluck it from his hand and tuck it into your pocket. It is then, and only then, you allow yourself to catch your breath. “So….”
“So?” You repeat, looking over at Diego as he stirs his still-steaming java.
“You slept with my brother yet?” The bluntness of his question cause you to choke on the air you had begun to inhale. You sit up, coughing and Diego chuckles. “You have!”
“No,” you begin, “no I...not really.” Diego quirks a brow at you, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Not really? But you have slept, like, next to him then?” You find it hard to meet your best friend’s eyes, so you distract yourself with a couple walking a small dog.
“Y-Yeah,” you stammer, “it wasn’t really the plan…”
“Nothing is planned with Klaus,” Diego hums grimly, but when you look at him, he isn’t outright disappointed.
“You’re not mad, are you?” Diego give you a half-smile, a signature look from him before he shakes his head.
“I just hope we don’t have a family reunion anytime soon.” A sigh of relief escapes your lungs, followed by a laugh. Diego doesn’t chuckle along with you. He means what he says, for reasons still unknown to you; but you’ll know soon enough.
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it goes on and on... // self para
Summers felt different in California. This was their second, now. It’d be Jack’s second birthday soon, in another month. The twins the month after that. The heat stuck around here, stuck to her skin; the sweat stuck her clothes to her skin, and Jack was running around the park (around the corner from their house) without any shoes on. Isaac didn’t like the hot weather, but there wasn’t much her little boy did like. He sat in her lap on the park bench, whining every time a bird flew by and swooped too low, too close. Vanessa was asleep, for once, spread out in the front of their three-seat-stroller. And Chelsea was constantly calling out to her oldest son, with fistfuls of sand from the sandpit, and telling him to “be careful, Jack.” Jenny had been asking a lot lately if they could get a trampoline for the backyard. Chelsea was too scared for that. Broken arms and necks and slipping through the springs, falling onto rock or grass or gravel. No. Chelsea was too scared for any of that. She worried about her children’s safety in a different way than Elliot did.
The summer felt different, but really it was all the same.
She’d brought her sketchbook along, shoved inside the baby bag hanging off the back of the stroller. Every day, when they came here, she brought the sketchbook, but never got around to opening it up and drawing. She had one arm around Isaac’s waist, a hand on Vanessa’s belly, slowly rising and falling, and her eyes trained on Jack, wiggling his little toes in the sand. Protective, in a way. Overprotective. She just didn’t want anyone to get hurt.
Four kids were a lot. They were a handful, and Chelsea only had two hands. Four, with Elliot, but even then they were still outmatched. Chelsea couldn’t drop her eye off the ball. There’d been a day last week when Vanessa had skirted around the edge of the couch in an attempt at walking. Headfirst. The fall was headfirst and she’d cut her forehead and cried, wailed, and Elliot was at work and then the boys started to cry, too, and the dog started barking and Chelsea didn’t know what to do. Who to tend to, after she’d patched up Vanessa, when they were all still crying. Her phone blew up with notifications: a message from Elliot, a text from Lucy, a missed call from her mother. It was overwhelming, sometimes. So she couldn’t drop the ball, not anymore, because she loved her babies. She loved her life and her family and it was still overwhelming. Even when things were good, when things were great, it was still hard.
And things had been going great. Jenny and Michelle were seemingly attached at the hip. Macy and Amy and their families were constant visitors in their home. Elliot was working on work, on re-applying to the bar. They were, together, working up to contacting his Aunt and Uncle. Elliot was working so damn hard: at the shop, at therapy, at meetings. Chelsea was still so in love. It’d been a year, now, since they’d gotten married. A year and a month. And she was still so in love with him. Even when things were great, great and hard, Elliot made it easy to deal with. He made everything easier and lighter and happier--even if he couldn’t see that. Chelsea wouldn’t be able to do any of this without him. She’d never want to.
She was looking at Jack, but she was thinking of her husband. He’d be getting off of work for the day soon. A glance at her phone confirmed as much. Like he knew she was thinking about him, her screen lit up with a new text message. I love you. Chelsea removed her hand from Vanessa’s tummy to quickly shoot a reply back. I love you, too. Can’t wait to see you, baby. Chelsea smothered her smile with a kiss to Isaac’s head, giddy like a God damn teenager.
Someone sat down beside her on the park bench and out of habit Chelsea scooted closer to the edge of her seat to allow them some room. “Is he yours?” The stranger said with a smile, head tilted in Jack’s direction. Chelsea slipped her phone back into her pocket and readjusted her gaze back to her boy, still splashing around in the sandpit.
“Yep.” Chelsea offered up a small smile in return. Isaac started to squirm, so she planted a kiss on his hair again.
“What’s his name?” The man asked, innocently curious.
There was another little boy playing in the sand. That must’ve been the stranger’s son, she thought. “Jack. That’s Jack. This is Isaac--” she caressed her baby’s cheek. “--And this is Vanessa.” Chelsea motioned to the sleeping baby in the stroller, thinking nothing of the interaction. There was something vaguely familiar about the man, but Chelsea shook it off as a parent who regularly attended the park with their kids like she did.
The man was quiet for a moment, sucking on a coffee cup.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. It must’ve been Elliot. Chelsea didn’t get a chance to check it before the man started to speak again.
“Are they all from the same sperm donor?”
She lifted her head up to look at him. At first Chelsea thought it was a joke. A dad joke, y’know? Something about dead-beat fathers only being sperm suppliers? Chelsea had never experienced that before--her own father, God bless his soul, was nothing short of perfect. And her husband was the kind of man that would do any and everything for his children. Her friends growing up had terrible fathers, sure, but Chelsea couldn’t connect with that sort of joke. She laughed anyway, ‘cause this was some stranger at the park, and she didn’t know what to do in such an awkward situation. The man wasn’t laughing. There was humour on his face, sure, but it wasn’t the same. It was twisted, almost. This time when the man smiled, Chelsea remembered where she’d seen him before. Why he looked familiar.
It was a head shot in a catalogue. She’d flipped through book after book, read profile after profile at the clinic. Her criteria wasn’t too specific: no family history of cancer, or heart disease, or any other sort of hereditary illnesses that the sperm donor could pass onto her future child. This man, this stranger, had been perfect on paper. Dark features, just like Chelsea had. Young, probably a little younger than she was at the time--but it didn’t matter. They weren’t the father. It was a donor. Privatised. The amount of money she spent on a lawyer, back then, with all the contracts they had to sign. Sealed records, something the baby could access once they turned eighteen if they really wanted to. But that was it--Jack had the power there. Not Chelsea, not the donor. Jack, eighteen and older and wiser--that was meant to be his choice, if he ever wanted to make it. And that was before Jack was Jack. That was before Elliot. That was when Chelsea thought it’d just be her, it’d just be them. That he’d never have a real father. That it’d only be Chelsea.
Her hands were full with Isaac. There was a part of her (and she wasn’t sure if this was the idea of Alex, or if it were motherly instinct, or that fear she could never shake) that wanted to scoop Jack up and take her babies and run. But her hands were full. Vanessa was sleeping. She didn’t have time, or the capacity, to escape this person.
“You shouldn’t be here.” It was all she could think of to say. “Jack, baby, come here. It’s time to go home.” Chelsea tried to keep the panic out of her voice, waving Jack over to the stroller.
Jack padded over to the bench. The man bent down on his knees, eye-level with him. Chelsea strapped Isaac into the stroller. He started to cry and it was fear keeping Chelsea from doing just that herself.
“Hey, buddy.” The man said to Jack.
Jack started to toddle over to him, but Chelsea was faster. She snatched him from the ground and held him close to her chest. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but you need to leave. Right now.”
“These are my kids, too.”
“No! No, they’re not!” Chelsea argued back, trying to hide Jack from his view. “I--I have a husband. He’s been to prison. You need to leave.” She threatened, as if that would do anything. Elliot wasn’t here, and there was a huge part of her that was grateful for that. She didn’t need him doing something stupid or impulsive. Though, admittedly, Chelsea wouldn’t mind seeing this guy getting his ass kicked.
“This the guy you’re bringing around my offspring?” The man questioned, defiant. He was slowly inching closer and closer.
Chelsea took a step back, bumping the stroller with her thighs. “I used your... your donation once. And those records are sealed. You signed a legally binding contract! You have no right to be here--”
“No right? That’s my blood, right there.” He pointed a finger at Jack.
Chelsea scrambled to pull her phone out of her pocket with one hand. “My husband is a lawyer. My sister-in-law is a lawyer. If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the cops.”
“The same husband that’s been to prison?” The man scoffed. The devil was in the details. “I’m not doing anything wrong. Just taking a stroll in a public park.”
Not doing anything wrong?! She punched 911 into her phone, squeezing it between her shoulder and her ear as it started to ring through.
“He’s always going to be mine, slut.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and for a moment Chelsea’s heart stopped, scared he was going to pull something out besides a slur. Instead, he turned to start walking away. “You’d do best to remember that.” He spat over his shoulder.
“911, what’s your emergency?” Someone said on the other end of the phone line. But Chelsea didn’t want to talk to them--she wanted to get home, she wanted to hold her babies and never let them go again, she wanted to see her husband. She hung up the phone and reluctantly strapped Jack into the stroller to wheel them all back home. She kept her phone in her hand, just in case.
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