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rebelrayne · 2 years

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and the day after that, too

a tom fic (chapter 1) - AO3 or under the cut

Rating: T - Teen

Warning: tears ahead and I will make you love Tom.

In 2016, Summer had a whirlwind romance with a boy with a British accent. He wasn’t very smooth and he wasn’t the tallest guy around, but for those short three months, he was hers.

JUNE 1, 2016

Summer sat out on her balcony watching orange and pink fill the horizon. Many could only dream of the life she lived; her parents had up and moved from land-locked Ocala when she was only seven-years-old to a two-bedroom condo on the beach down in sunny, fun Key West. She sat with one leg propped up on her chair, a cup of coffee in hand, which her mom warned her not to drink so late. She would officially be 18-years-old in a few short hours and that meant come September, she would be living a life different than the beach sun rises and sets.

She heard the smooth woosh of the glass door opening. “Do you wanna watch that new Netflix show “Stranger Things” with me and Daddy?” Her mom leaned against the siding of the doorway with a longing look in her eyes. Many people commented how much Summer looked like her mother; the same golden hair, freckles that danced across from cheek to cheek and short stature. Although it was something that her parents were more likely to say, how did 18 years go by so fast?

“I’m okay,” Summer smiled warmly. “Oh, but can we go see “Me Before You” this weekend?” Summer had plenty of girlfriends who would love to go see the movie but she knew it would make her mom elated to go with Summer to see it. Summer’s dad was a good man, but sappy romance movies were not his thing.

“Of course, we can!” Her mom’s smile broadened. “Love you, Summer.”

“Love you too.” Summer returned her gaze to the sky and the waves. She heard the glass door close again and she let out a sigh. It would be strange to her one day soon when her parents weren’t in such close proximity. Some may think living in a 1200 square foot condo with their parents would be awful as a teenager, but Summer didn’t mind it so much. Her parents were what most of her friends considered to be ‘The Cool Parents,’ since they did own one of the bars down the road.

A loud clang made her jump, a small bit of her coffee spilling on her white tank top. She shot a glance to the balcony next door to find a boy leaning on the railing, brow seemingly furrowed in anger. “Uh, are you okay?” Summer asked with caution.

“Huh?” the boy’s eyes widened as he turned his head to face her.

“Hello,” she said with a wave. “What’d that glass door ever do to you?”

The boy’s face softened, blue eyes shining in the sun’s last moments. “Too clean,” he replied shyly. “I, uh, ran into it earlier.” He shifted his body, now only leaning on his side to face her completely. He moved his weight from one foot to another, his cheeks a light shade of pink.

“Ah, the power of Windex.” She placed her coffee mug on the small table before standing up, heading to the side of the balcony closest to his. “So where’re you from? I gotta ask, considering I’ve only heard British accents from my friends when we’re pretending to fancy.” She leaned on the balcony. “Well, and on TV.” Her smile faded. “Wait, you are British, right?”

He smirked deviously as he ran his fingers through his hair. It looked as if he was trying to be suave, he was trying to be flirtatious, but he fumbled with a small knot in his hair. He pulled his hand from his head and grinned awkwardly. He glanced around and leaned on the railing closest to Summer’s railing, clearing his throat to try and play off the hair failure. “Don’t tell anyone but I’m actually an alien from outer space.”

“Wow,” she responded with an over-the-top playful voice. “I didn’t know aliens were so cute.”

“Oh, uh, I mean… You probably say that to all the boys on holiday,” he chuckled but it was obviously forced to cover his nerves as his face turned bright red.

His reaction made her smile, it made her heart rate quicken in excitement and made her stomach flutter with butterflies. She reached her hand out over the balcony. “I’m Summer, and I definitely only say that to the cute ones with British accents.”

He looked apprehensive for a moment and just stared at her hand. He met her eyes and his lips curved upwards. Then he grabbed her hand. “Tom. Tom Beresford-King. Nice to meet you, Summer.”

“Oh, the full name, too? Fancy.” She giggled, which only seemed to turn Tom’s cheeks an even deeper shade of pink. “I’ll join in. Summer Marie Reynolds.” She took a step back and did a dramatic bow. “Nice to meet you, Tom Beresford-King!” She moved back to the railing and placed her elbows on top, leaning over again. He was cute enough, but seemed so awkwardly and painfully shy. “What brings you to Key West?”

He wouldn’t look her right in the eye but cleared his throat. “Holiday. My parents were looking for investments. Apparently, there’s a bar here that has a lot of promise.”

“Chick’s?” she asked.

“Yes,” he nodded, “and you knew that off the top of your head quite quickly. Are you local?”

“Born and bred in Florida.” She sighed. “Hey, you don’t seem like you’re doing anything tonight. My birthday is tomorrow and my friends are having a bonfire. Want to come?”

He tapped his fingers on the railing as he shot his attention back to her. It was almost as if she could tell he was absolutely shocked that she’d asked him to hang out. Was it bad manners? He seemed harmless enough, plus she could use a distraction from her own life. And would it be so bad if the distraction happened to be a super cute British guy? “You’re asking me to go to a party?” He shook his head. “You’re inviting me to your birthday party?”

“Should I not invite you?” She grinned. “Is this, like, the beginning of a summer horror flick? You gonna murder me and my friends?”

“No! No, I would never.”

“Relax, Tom. I was only kidding.”

Summer noticed him starting to fiddle with his hands, picking at his nails and fingers. “What time?”

She lifted herself up from the balcony and moved her hands up and down, pointing to her shirt. “As soon as I change my shirt,” she said, “we’ll go.”

***

Summer waved to her parents as she headed out the door. She was in a bit of a rush, knowing she had been keeping poor Tom waiting for at least ten minutes outside her door. Her mom rushed after her and squeezed her tightly in a hug and mumbled something about growing up too fast. She laughed at her mom, who seemed overly emotional compared to a short fifteen minutes ago. “Be careful,” her dad called out. Summer knew what it meant though, ‘Be careful’ was really ‘I love you’ in dad language.

She opted to wear a new crop top with a cute oversized cardigan. She wore her faded blue jean shorts with white converse, a coffee-stainless white crop top with a tan knitted cardigan, the one that always seemed to fall off her right shoulder a bit. She closed her front door behind her and found Tom leaning against the wall, between their two front doors. He was in his own world, scrolling through his phone with shaky hands and humming to himself. His brown hair fell over his eyes a bit and somehow, even with the parking lot as the background, he looked more gorgeous than he did out on the balcony.

“Ready to go?” She waved and planted a big smile on her face.

He glanced up with wide, shocked eyes and nodded. He looked speechless as he stared at her. It was a bit cute, she thought, he clearly had the opinion that she was pretty. “Yes, sorry, I was distracted.”

“What? Why would you be sorry? I’m the one who took forever to get ready!” she laughed. She grabbed his hand, which made him gasp. “Come on! I can’t be late to my own birthday party!”

He followed behind her as they headed down the stairs and towards the beach. “I don’t think I’ve asked. How old are you?”

“I’m turning eighteen.” She didn’t head towards the beach but towards the street instead, deciding she didn’t want to wade through the sand.

“Oh, so we’re the same age then. I, uh, turned eighteen last month.”

“So where are you from exactly?”

“Windsor,” he answered, “it’s close to London, if that helps at all.”

“You trying to say I don’t know my geography, Tom?”

He cleared his throat and a nervous giggle escaped his lips. “No, uh, I’m not. It’s, um, just not a town people know much about.”

She turned around and placed her hand on his arm, giggling. “I’m screwing with you, relax!” His muscles tensed up, but she was more than sure it was the nerves. The color washed from his face, telling her that he was not flexing his muscles for her. “Sorry.” She pulled her hand away, feeling a bit terrible. Maybe she shouldn’t have invited a total stranger along with her. What was she even thinking?

He stayed quiet, his head hung a bit. He wasn’t the tallest guy around; he was, maybe, around 5’10”, if she was to guess but he towered over her nonetheless standing at 5’ even. She wondered why someone that looked like he did was so apprehensive, how he could seem so closed off. He kept his eyes pointed at the ground as they walked in complete silence.

It would be her birthday in a couple hours but in a way, she wasn’t really feeling the whole beach party vibe, at least not anymore. She stopped walking, to Tom’s surprise. He took a few more steps before looking over his shoulder at her, guilt written all over his face. “You said you were here because your parents like that bar, right?” He nodded. “Want to go?” She pointed across the street, the neon lights glowing in the night.

***

“There’s no way!” She stared at Tom with her eyes and mouth wide open. “I don’t believe you.”

Tom lifted his water to his mouth and took a gulp. He chuckled softly and leaned back in his seat. “I wish I was kidding,” he said as he stared at his glass. “But it’s true. His parents were out of town and we threw this massive bash.” Summer placed her hand over her mouth. The boy was so clearly out of his realm, sitting in her parents’ hole-in-the-wall bar. “I had too much to drink, which was entirely my fault for thinking I should drink out of the bottle.”

“I know we just met,” she said, “but I cannot see you walking around a house with your hand wrapped around the neck of a bottle.” The vision of Tom yelling with a bottle of Grey Goose held over his head was humorous to her, she couldn’t help but giggle trying to imagine it. “How’d your friend even manage to get ahold of your clothes, Tommy boy?”

He huffed a light laugh, clearly amused by the nickname she’d given him. “I, uh, sort of passed out in the bathroom. Tolly and a couple others thought it’d be a right laugh to take my clothes and hide them.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes,” he said. “They did leave my boxers thankfully.” He bit his lip and gave her an awkward smile, which was a bit cute. “Anyway, I had to walk across campus like that the next morning. I got a ton of wolf whistles, too.”

Can’t blame them there, Summer thought to herself. She wasn’t normally the girl that had a crush so quickly, especially with someone she hardly knew. There was something calming about his presence though, it was almost as if she’d known him for years. She leaned herself back and glanced him up and down as he gave her a look of confusion. “You know, I can’t say I blame them.”

He blushed again. It was becoming one of her favorite pastimes, making him flustered. “You’re a right charmer, aren’t you?” He wrapped his hand around his glass again and studied it. “Ah, you probably say that to everyone.” It didn’t sound like he meant to say it out loud. How could someone who looked the way he did be so not used to hearing things like that?

“A charmer, yes,” she answered, “but I do not say that to everyone. Ask anyone around, they’ll tell you the same: Summer Reynolds is hard to pin down.” She glanced towards the bottles in front of her behind the bar. It was Wednesday night, which meant the bartenders would be lenient with her sitting right at the bar. While she was the owners’ daughter, they still wouldn’t let her be front and center on a weekend night, especially being underaged. She flagged one of the bartenders down. “Barry! My favorite bartender!”

Barry grumbled a bit but laughed. “Summer, my favorite owners’ daughter.” He walked over slowly, pausing in front of the teenagers. His eyes shifted between the two while he continued to dry a glass with a bar mop. “Guess I should say happy early birthday, right?”

“The best gift would be a drink! Please, Barry? Pretty, pretty please?” She let her lower lip quiver as she pouted jokingly. “And one for my friend, Tom.” Summer lifted her hand and placed it on Tom’s arm. He jumped slightly, stiffening and sitting up a bit straighter upon her touch. She knew she was making him nervous, but the way he reacted made her realize that he had no idea that he had the same effect on her.

“What’ll it be Summer’s friend, Tom?” Barry asked. He kept an intense gaze on Tom.

“Um, maybe a Tom Collins?” He sounded unsure of his response. Summer wondered if Tom even knew what he had just ordered.

Barry stared back with a dazed and puzzled look. He placed the glass he was drying on a rack underneath the bar and narrowed his eyes at Tom. He clearly had no idea what Tom had ordered. “Just give him a Gin and Tonic, Barry,” Summer suggested. “Make it two, please because you’re the absolute best!”

“You can have one and you’ll be staying here until after midnight, kid.” Barry kept his eyes on Tom, almost like a concerned father would. Summer had a feeling her dad would be asking about who this British boy was that all his employees were talking about.

And they did. They stayed and they talked all night, even after midnight. Tom was nothing that she would have imagined for herself. He was timid, he was shy, he was easily flustered. But at the same time, he was brave, he was sweet and she was easily flustered by every move he made.

She grabbed his hand out on the sidewalk, maybe a block away from the condo building. She almost expected him to pull his hand away but he squeezed it in return. Barry had made the drinks so light, she was sure that he didn’t put any alcohol in it at all. She didn’t even drink very much of it. She didn’t need to, she was certain she was drunk on the cute British boy she’d taken on a tour of her town. “What’d you think of the bar?”

“It was cozy,” he said. “So it’s your family’s establishment?” He spoke so eloquently, she thought. The way the neon lights hit his gorgeous blue eyes, with the mixture of the faint moonlight out on the street, she was hooked. He had no idea she was hooked.

They started up the stairs to their doors, which made her heart sink. The night was over and she was stupid enough to think this could even go anywhere. Of course the first time she truly wanted to get to know someone, it would be a boy from overseas who wouldn’t stay long enough. “Yeah, it’s my parents’ bar.” She paused at her front door but he didn’t let go of her hand. The two of them stood in front of one another, both unsure of the next move they should take.

Tom took a long but somehow, shallow breath then chewed at his bottom lip nervously. She took a step closer, even though she knew she shouldn’t. She’d be leaving in September for college, he’d be going back to Windsor at the same time. She shouldn’t but for the exact same reasons she shouldn’t, she knew she should.

She could feel his heart pounding, leaping and racing as she placed a hand on his chest. With a shaking touch, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him. She leaned in most of the way but he moved quickly to meet up with her, almost as if he couldn’t believe his luck. Both of them caught their breath, both shocked at the spark that took place when their lips met for the first time.

His jaw was dropped when they pulled away, but she had an untamable smile on her face. “Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked with reddened cheeks.

“I hope so,” she said. She lifted herself to her tip toes and kissed his cheek. “And I hope the day after that, too.”

“And the day after that?”

“And the day after that one, too.”

***

SEPTEMBER 4TH, 2016

She shouldn’t do this, she thought. But it felt right, it felt like the timing was there, it was perfect. Would she kick herself in the morning for this? Would she kick herself in the morning if she didn’t do it? It was their last night. She knew she’d probably never see him again, as much as it made her heart break to face that realization. Tonight, she wouldn’t think about it. Tonight, she wouldn’t let that thought cross her mind again. Tonight, she would just be his and she would tell herself it would be the same tomorrow as it’d been since June: wake up, see him on the balcony and rush down to the beach together as if it was their last day.

She pressed herself against her chest against him and placed one hand on his arm. She felt nervous as hell as she moved herself on top of him. He didn’t make a sound, but placed his hands on her waist, almost in a too-respectful kind of way.

They had kissed a million times over, they had been wrapped up in each other's arms a million times more than that. He pulled away and stared into her eyes. He looked worried, he looked scared. She’d come to know his expressions so well, she’d come to know him so well. “This isn’t just a fling to me,” he said. “It’s more than that to me.”

“It’s more than that to me, too,” she answered. She cupped his face and smiled.

“No, Summer.” He shook his head and swallowed hard. She could tell he was nervous by the way his eyes moved slightly, the way he was unable to pick one thing to focus on. His breathing was uneasy, his hands barely against her skin even though he was holding her tightly against his body. “I love you.”

She felt the goosebumps prickle against her skin, a feeling of floating as the smile wiped off her face. She felt the tears filling her eyes but she never thought in a million years… “I love you, too.” …that he could feel the same way about her. “I don’t want to think about tomorrow.”

“Then… then don’t.”

But it wasn’t that simple. “But I’ll miss you,” she said. “I’ll miss you and I don’t think I will ever love someone again, not like how I love you.” Her hands fell to her side as she gulped, trying to keep herself from looking like a mess.

He pulled her closer. “I’ll miss you,” he said, “and I’ll never love someone the way I love you. You’ll always be the one for me.”

“Even tomorrow?” she asked.

“And the day after that,” he said. He kissed her gently and sighed. “And the day after that one, too.”

***

AUGUST 29TH, 2022

One night had turned into a week, which turned into two weeks, which moved into a month and then a couple more. She didn’t expect him, she didn’t think she’d fall for some rich pretty boy from overseas, but she did. She knew it was young love, that it could be nothing more than a summer romance. But it didn’t stop her from giving everything she had to him.

That was years ago, six years to be exact, but Summer would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about him often. There were plenty of times she thought she should look him up, that she should just reach out and see how he’s doing. It was stupid though, she knew it was. She doubted he even thought about her anymore. They’d lost touch many, many years ago. Her parents weren’t around anymore and she’d been avoiding cleaning out their condo. She didn’t live in the Keys anymore, she was up in Nashville. She sat on her bed in her teenage bedroom and sighed. The memories of the place made tears burn in the corners of her eyes, a big ball in her throat made it difficult to swallow. She shook her head and leaned down, pulling out a box from under her bed. She opened it and started sifting through the photos of her adolescent years. Pictures of her and her parents smiling, of her friends at graduation, and then, of course, of her and Tom. A picture she didn’t need to find because the memory was burned in her mind: the night she turned 18 and fell in love with a cute boy with a British accent on vacation one balcony over. She still loved him though. She knew she always would. She would love him tomorrow and the day after that, and the day after that.

#litg #litg tom #litg ff #litg fanfic #litg bombshell #did someone say they wanted a cute tom fic?#your order is ready #I accidentally made myself a Tom stan #how did this happen

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misscrazyfangirl321 · 1 year

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whatever ur alice syfy ship is: star wars au?

(Asks that make me Google "Is time travel a thing in Star Wars"? Apparently the answer is technically yes, but only once. Good enough for me.)

“Alice, you know I love you, but this is insane!”

She pauses, just for a moment, fingers hovering over her worn nerf-leather pouch. “You love me?”

It’s almost comical the way he freezes, eyes widening, the racing of his mind almost visible. “I-of course I do, uh, buddy. Pal. Anyway, that’s not really the-you’re going back in time to kill your great-grandmother, so I’m not sure it’s really the time to talk about-”

“I’m not going to kill her.” She resumes packing, shaking her head. For the moment, at least, she’ll let his little slip go (there may not be any point in saying anything anyway, if this works), though she cannot stop the slightest smile from tugging at her lips. If only his smuggler buddies could see him now; his reputation for being calm, cool, collected, and in control would shatter to a million bits. “I’m going to talk to her. To stop her before the dark side can take over.”

He gulps, glancing around, though it’s only the two of them in the room. Maybe he thinks the Force itself reports back to the Empire; for all she knows, maybe it does. “Right, sure, just going to have a friendly chat with the woman who led the takeover of the entire known universe. I’m sure that couldn’t possibly go wrong.”

She grimaces. “It couldn’t possibly be worse than this.” There are only three groups left now: the Empire, the enslaved, and the dying. The last of the rebellion was crushed years ago, and with it, the last of the hope. Alice has poured every moment since then into this: desperately trying to finish her parents’ final project, a time machine they could never quite get to function. Now that it is, she knows exactly what to do.

“Um, yes, it could. ‘Course it could.” He looks at her like she’s suddenly announced a distant relation to Jabba. “You could die. Or stop existing.”

Sweet, sweet man. She shakes her head, dropping the last of her supplies into her pouch with a sigh. Turning to him, she offers a weak smile. “Technically, she and I aren’t even blood relatives. Grandmother adopted my dad. So even if Patricia dies, I should still exist.”

“Should. See, I really don’t like that should. If she dies, maybe she never raises your grandmother. Maybe your grandmother doesn’t know enough about kids to take in your father. So maybe your father lives across the galaxy, and never meets your mother.”

“That’s a lot of maybes.” She arches a brow. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Sometime, probably.” There’s desperation in his eyes now that breaks her heart. “Even if you don’t kill her, even if everything goes to plan, you might still erase yourself. Without Darth DeWitt, your parents might never work together, and-”

Frustration wells up inside of her against her will. She’s dealt with this, she has; she’s faced head-on all the ways this could possibly go wrong, has swallowed down her desperate fears, and now he’s digging them all back up, and she cannot deal with it. “I’m not more important than the whole universe, Hatter!”

“You are to me!”

The fight seems to drain from both of them at once, exhaustion overtaking them. She sags back onto her bed, sitting upright and watching him. For several long moments the only sounds are their harsh, unsteady breaths.

“You don’t mean that,” she says finally, quietly.

He matches her tone, though he can’t meet her eyes. “Part of me does. Part of me wants to smuggle you away to some remote colony somewhere too far and too small for the Empire to care. So long as we paid our taxes and kept our heads down, we’d be alright.”

Oh, it does sound tempting. There are planets like that, she knows; not many, and not overly comfortable, but survivable. And if she changes things… Even if she continues to exist, there won’t be any coming back. Whatever world she makes, it won’t be her world, and if there is a her, she’ll be back in the past. No room for two Alices, right? Literal lifetimes away from all of her friends for the rest of her life… Her heart twists. “And the other part?” The words barely come.

One breath. Two. “The other part of me knows you’d never forgive me, or yourself.” The words hang between them, an undeniable reality. She can’t stand the thought of this, but neither can she run from it. Abruptly, he chuckles. It’s weak, forced, and clearly for her benefit. “Besides, I really hate paying taxes.”

It’s a pitiful excuse for a joke, but she laughs all the same-laughs until she cries, and he crosses the room, gathering her into his arms with a tentativeness that quickly fades, lost in kisses to her hair and softly whispered words.

“Let me come with you,” he pleads, when she’s calm.

She’s shaking her head before she can think. “It’s too dangerous. You could be killed.”

“I live for danger.” He takes a breath. “Besides, I’m not more important than the whole universe.”

You are to me. She wants to say it, but it wouldn’t be true, anymore than it was when he said it. So instead, she brushes her lips against his-softly, just once-and exhales. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have backup.”

“Never hurts, no,” he agrees too quickly, looking adorably dazed. She releases him, pulling the strap of her pouch over her shoulder, and he hesitates. “Alice?”

“Yeah?”

“You said you didn’t plan to kill her. But if-if this doesn’t work, if you talk to her and she chooses the dark side… What’s the plan then?”

She offers him a grim smile, pocketing her lightsaber. For the woman who would be directly responsible for-literally-billions of deaths? “Off with her head.”

#alice hamilton #the hatter #alice syfy #answered #thanks for the ask!#lattes of love #my fics #my writing #mine #lineage au #basically 'hey if dewitt is patricia who is helen's mother and alice from alice syfy is henry and erika's alice #then adelle/patricia is technically alice's great grandmother #basically combining two headcanons for funsies and angsty aus

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devilsrecreation · 2 years

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What about more Coven Heads 📝 Headcanons ?

OH HONEY, I GOT YOU

- Osran actually lowkey wants to get along with Terra again. He’d kinda miss the days when he and Terra were considered friends (or at least friendly to each other). Don’t get him wrong, he’s perfectly happy with his family and marriage, it’s just one of those things you wish turned out better, you know?

Maybe Terra (along with Petunia and Saul) finds out Osran has a pic of Riley somewhere and she’s like “Oh my Titan…”. Cue the two actually bonding.

Terra may still be bitter, and I’m not saying that they’ll become friends afterward, but they’d definitely bond over it

-Like I said, Terra killed Faust after he pissed her off, so she fed him to Nemesia, her man-eating plant

-You don’t want to be stuck in Terra’s greenhouse. You just don’t. It’s kinda like LSOH, but 10x worse

-Osran gives out parenting advice to Darius :)

-Vitimir treats Evangaline like his own child. I like to think their relationship is kinda like Luz and King. Eve says something like “Welp, time to mess around and find out!” and Vit is like “Oh my gosh, I love you so much. I’m so proud of you 🥺🥺🥺🥺”

-Mason really wishes to bond more with Steve and Matt, but can’t due to Belos overworking the coven heads. He was always so proud of how Steve turned out

-Mason also has a lot of…..history with Steve and Matt’s moms, but we don’t talk about that. Very messy divorces

-Ever since Serafine started warming up to Adrian, he’s gotten more and more protective of her. Their friendship is kind of like that of Belle and the Beast without the romance lol

-Hettie daily picks up Vitimir bridal style

-Raine can play guitar as well as the violin. They’re pretty good at it, too. They’re trying to learn more instruments tho

-Eber has an entire clan of ratworms at him and Darius’. Yes, they all have names, yes, he’s a grandpa and no, he doesn’t let anyone near the babies

-Darius looks like a Disney Princess when he cleans

-There are 99 ghosts living in Osran’s mansion. But there’s always room for 100

-RAINE PUSHES IN AND TAKES OFF THEIR GLASSES LIKE THEY’RE IN A FUCKING ANIME AND IT ANNOYS LITERALLY EVERYONE EXCEPT EDA

-Osran fam headcanon: Cassandra used to study oracle magic, but switched bc of Osran

I like to think it was like how Willow was forced into the abomination track by her dads cuz of the opportunities

Except Osran forced Cassandra into studying oracle magic because he wanted to continue the family tradition of being in the oracle coven

Unlike Willow, Cass was actually decent (at best) at oracle magic, but she always had an interest in making potions like her mother. Because Osran wanted to be a good father figure, he kept pushing Cass to be almost as good as him (since she wasn’t very good at first). She didn’t really mind it at first, but because Osran was so adamant on her being an oracle, she got so sick of it and changed to studying Potions with Ophelia.

It’s not like she did it out of the blue, every time Ozzie wanted her to practice, she would always find time to watch Ophelia making potions and started to spend less time with her father, much to Osran’s dismay cuz Cass is a daddy’s girl, so that kinda hurt him a bit

It took some time, but Osran finally accepted that Cass wanted to be in the potions coven and thankfully, he learned his mistake and let Chalfont and Minerva go their own paths

#*pants* okay i think i got em all #coven heads #headcanons #the owl house

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dmdasd · 1 year

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It was just after the beginning of our first semester at college that I began to feel that something was a little off with my brother. Oh, it wasn’t a clearly defined feeling, and not a whole lot off, but, well… off. Chris (for Christian – don’t call him Christopher - he hates that) and I (I’m Carter) are identical twins. We’re nineteen-year-old six-footers, blond, blue-eyed, clean-cut, athletic, and (if I am the one to say it) handsome. He’s the elder by just a few minutes. We are so identical that, in old photos even I can’t tell who’s who unless I happen to remember what we were each wearing at the time (we’ve never, thank God, done that creepy-assed dress-alike thing some twins go in for). Now, I’ve never bought into the twins-have-a-psychic-bond crap, but Chris and I have always been really, really close; closer than most brothers. We’re the only kids, Dad died when we were barely four years old, and, with Mom having to work full-time to support us all, we got used early on to being on our own together a lot, so we naturally bonded all the more strongly. If I had a problem, it never occurred to me not to go to Chris first for advice or comfort, and it was the same for him. Don’t get me wrong; we love our mother, and she’s always been great to us, but it’s just that she couldn’t always be there. First by necessity and then by choice, we became each other’s best friend, our own twin support group, allies in adversity, the first to celebrate each other’s victories, the first to commiserate and bind each other’s wounds, facing the world shoulder to shoulder, an army of two marching in lock-step, and so familiar with each other’s preferences and reactions that, I suppose, from the outside it really might almost seem like we could read each other’s mind. That’s why I was extra sensitive to the little changes that were occurring now. It may not have been any psychic mumbo-jumbo, but I know Chris as completely as I know myself, and the subtle differences that his more casual acquaintances probably never even noticed had accumulated to the point that they were impossible for me to ignore.

First off, Chris just wasn’t acting like himself. He’d developed a tendency to daydream (or brood – I couldn’t tell which), and was tuning out into his little private world at some of the oddest times and places. Now, although neither of us is especially likely to be a candidate for the dean’s list any time soon, still, we’ve always been good solid B students with the occasional A and not a C in sight, who are normally alert and focused, and never, before this, had Chris shown the least inclination to be spacey or distracted. Second, he was talking in his sleep, and since we’ve shared a bedroom our entire lives, I know that’s not normal for him. I could never quite make out what he was saying (if indeed he wasn’t just mumbling incoherently), and truth be told it didn’t really wake me all the way up - we’re both pretty heavy sleepers. But I was roused into enough of a twilight state that I would remember his midnight muttering the next morning. And last and worst, he was starting to keep secrets. I know you’re thinking that’s no big deal; a grown man is bound to insist on some privacy. And Chris and I have always given each other space when we needed or asked for it. But what we’ve never done is to pretend there wasn’t something we were reserving as private, or to lie about it to each other! I had found out by accident in random conversation with fellow students that, on several occasions, Chris had not been where he’d told me he was going. Appointments, labs or study sessions he was supposedly attending had been much shorter than he claimed, or hadn’t taken place at all. Also, a couple of times I’d walked in just as he was ending a phone call that had pretty obviously been an actual conversation, only to have him volunteer the information (and without my having asked in the first place) that it was a wrong number. It had me feeling more than a little hurt that he no longer seemed to trust me, and, considering how remarkably few things we weren’t already comfortable sharing with each other (for example, we knew all about each other’s sex life: who’d got to first, second, or third base, or scored, and with which girls; within hours after it happened when and how we’d each lost our respective virginities; what the other fantasized to when jacking off – he’s all about tits, while I’m a sucker for long shapely legs, especially in high heels – not to mention having even jacked off together occasionally when we were younger) it really worried me to imagine what on earth he might be up to that he felt he needed to keep that hidden. Drugs? Gambling debts? A pregnant girlfriend?

Three Weeks Earlier

“Man, if I have to fill out one more damned form I’m goin’ postal!” Chris had that tight look around the eyes that he gets when he’s feeling stressed. “They must have their own tree farm just to supply the wood pulp for the paper!”

“Chill, Bro. I’m pretty sure that was the last of them,” I said, as cheerfully as I could, given that I was as sick of the seemingly endless parade of enrollment paperwork as he was. “By now, every individual in this entire university must have their own personal hand-written copy of our info! Anyway, I doubt they’ll make us fill out anything else just in order to be allowed to eat dinner, or to get in to the orientation entertainment. By the way, did you find out anything about what that’s going to be? Not another ‘motivational’ pep-talk, I hope!”

“Nah. They’ve hired some dude to do a hypnosis show. Pretty cool, huh? I’m thinkin’ maybe I’ll try to get myself hypnotized – see what it’s like.”

“Maybe I’ll try it, too,” I said. It did sound pretty interesting.

“One of us ought to stay awake to watch. Otherwise how will we know what happened? It’d be a total waste of time – no more fun than taking a nap!”

“Well, maybe you’re right. But why shouldn’t you be the one standing watch?”

Chris teased, “’Cause I’m the oldest and I say so. And besides I’ll make for a better show. I’m the good-looking one!” He was cackling like an idiot.

Laughing as well, I gave him a light smack to the back of the head. “You wish, monkey-boy!” But I didn’t bother to argue the point any further. Let him be the one who tried hypnosis; it wasn’t that important. Still giggling, Chris led the way to the dining hall and our dinner. Dorm food – Yecch!

The hypnosis show turned out to be pretty intense. True to his word, Chris made a dash for the stage as soon as the guy asked for volunteers, and he succeeded in snagging one of the seats. I had mixed feelings. I mean, I was envious of the experience he was going to have that I wasn’t, but at the same time I knew I’d have had a problem with someone messing around in my head while there was an audience to witness it. I watched fascinated as the hypnotist Justin Spencer (he was a lot younger than I would have expected, and rather than projecting a comforting air of respectability he had more of a Vegas lounge-lizard vibe to him, but he sure knew his stuff) took the volunteers, including my brother, neatly down into trance. This guy was good! He had a voice like warm honey that just sort of melted into your head and eased you along with whatever he said. I wasn’t the least surprised as I watched Chris’s eyes lose focus and then drift shut. As a matter of fact, I had to blink and shake my head a couple of times to keep from zoning out right along with him. In short order my brother’s posture went from upright to jello, and he sagged over until he finally lost his balance and collapsed into the lap of the hypnotized chick next to him. I hoped he had at least some remaining awareness of reality, because she was really hot, her skirt was really short, and his sleeping face was just inches from the Promised Land. Lucky bastard! Once the volunteers were under, the various bits the hypnotist suggested ran from cute to hilarious, but, as the show progressed and he figured out which of his subjects were the easiest to manipulate, the suggestions became more and more inappropriate. I began to feel very glad that Chris, who was obviously way more vulnerable to suggestion than the average dude and therefore in the thick of the r-rated action, was the one up there and not me. Slow-dancing with another guy may be funny enough, but pretending to give oral sex to a donut as if the hole were a pussy is gross; and sliding your hand down inside your pants to play with yourself in public is just plain outrageous! Towards the end of the show, he sent my brother and a couple of the other guys off stage, and when they returned, each was proudly wearing his own underpants as a hat! At least, unlike those in the case of one of the other poor victimized saps, Chris’s were clean (thanks, Mom). There was a little lull in the action while the hypnotist spoke quietly off mike to each subject in turn, presumably implanting the personal improvement suggestions he’d promised at the beginning of the show. Then he left them all with one last suggestion: for the rest of the evening, any time someone shook their hand they’d experience the sensation of an intense orgasm (but not remember it afterwards, I suppose so they wouldn’t be trying to avoid – or, for that matter, seek out - the next handshake). Before actually sending them back to their seats, he demonstrated, first with the hot chick, who screamed so ecstatically I thought the glass in the stage-lights might crack, and then with my brother. Chris went rigid, making a little gasping moan (I recognized it as the same sound I make when I’m cumming), his hips flexed convulsively, and the front of his jeans, which had tented out almost instantly, darkened from the fluid (remember he was no longer wearing any underwear to help preserve the tattered remnants of his dignity). I was frankly ticked off at the crudeness of it all, but it was way too late for anything to be done about it.

I hustled Chris back to the dorm room we’d be sharing as quickly as I could, to spare him further embarrassing exposure. He didn’t remember a thing that had gone on after the hypnotist began to hypnotize them all, so I filled him in on what he’d been doing. Chris gaped as I went on, and then, when I got to the really raunchy parts, refused to believe it. “Jeez, Carter, that’s disgusting! No way would I ever do that shit in public, hypnotized or not! Why would you say such awful crap?” I finally had to reach over and shake his hand – a couple of times, since he still had no conscious recollection of the orgasms he was having - until his crotch was literally awash with his cum, before he would acknowledge the truth. When he could no longer deny the evidence of his own eyes (or jeans), and had caught his breath, he grated, “That sick bastard!” Then, looking me square in the eye he added,“Touch my hand one more time tonight and you’re a dead man, Bro!”

The atmosphere between us was decidedly awkward as we retired for the night, but by morning Chris was over his snit, and everything seemed back to normal.

Seemed…

But that day was the first of those so-called wrong numbers. It was also (although I didn’t find this out until much later) the first of my brother’s unexplained absences. We each had interviews scheduled for part-time jobs that afternoon (Mom, who was very savvy about such things, had made sure that there was a nice investment portfolio out of Dad’s life insurance to pay for our actual schooling costs, but this was the only way for us to have any regular spending money of our own). We’d flipped a coin to see who went for the coffee shop and who tried the fast food joint, but Chris never made it to his appointment. Yet when I asked how it went, he blandly told me he was just waiting to hear whether he got the job. And that next night was the first time Chris woke me up talking in his sleep (okay, almost woke me up; I didn’t really register it until the next morning except as a kind of cloudy dream of hearing him saying something or other over and over). I don’t know how often he was getting those secretive phone calls, because I only walked in on them a couple of times, and, of course, the mysterious absences went pretty much unnoticed, at least at the time they were happening, so I have no real idea how many of them there were either. But the sleep-talking became such a regular occurrence that, after a week or so, I eventually stopped waking up for it at all. It just existed as a shadowy awareness on the edge of my dream state that the after-hours monolog was still going on.

Two Days Ago

I had just returned to our room after my last class, having walked all the way across campus in a brown study mulling over my concerns. Chris was already there. He shut off his cell phone just as I entered and once again I had that odd sense that I was interrupting something. But all he said was, “Another damn telemarketer robo-call.” Then, after a quick glance at his watch he added, “And now I’m gonna be late. Shit!” He grabbed his jacket and hurried out the door. “Chem lab - don’t how long it’ll take - don’t wait your dinner for me, Bro – see ya later”, he called over his shoulder and he was gone.

“Just typical”, I fumed to myself, “Weird phone-call, and now he’s off to something that may or may not actually be a chem lab!” And then it struck me, “And you’re just sitting here like a complete idiot while he goes!” I grabbed my own jacket and dashed out the door after him. No more guessing and fretting. I was finally going to get to the bottom of this, come hell or high water!

When I got to the street, fortunately I could still see Chris’ blond head, now more than a block away. I put on a burst of speed, startling a couple of coeds who were paying more attention to their gossiping than to their walking, and managed to keep him in sight. Justifying my suspicions, he was heading towards the edge of campus and not remotely in the direction of the chemistry building. Where the heck was he going?

That afternoon, I discovered I possessed unsuspected skills as a stalker. Of course, while we were still on campus it wasn’t all that hard. There were plenty of kids out and about headed in all directions for me to blend in with, and Chris didn’t appear to be especially concerned with checking his back-trail anyway. But when he crossed into the more residential neighborhood to the south, there was much less traffic, foot or vehicle, and I found myself skulking behind parked cars, sticking to shaded spots, in general behaving like some comic B-movie spy. In a way I was lucky no one else noticed me either. They would likely have called the cops about the ‘suspicious prowler’. If I hadn’t been so worried, I would probably have cracked myself up laughing; tailing my brother this way was so “The Hardy Boys and the Mystery of the Missing Twin” (although, with both of us being blond, I don’t know who would have been Frank). Melodrama aside however, I did manage to keep him under surveillance without his ever once becoming aware of me.

After about a twenty minute walk, Chris went up to one of the houses (not any different from the others as far as I could see) and rang the doorbell. The door was opened by a dark-haired older guy (thirties, maybe?). As he ushered my brother inside I did a major double-take. Holy shit! Minus the flamboyant stage costume, it was that hypnotist from the orientation show!! Suddenly all the weirdness began to fall into a pattern: the phone-calls, to make appointments Chris was then helplessly compelled to keep (and lie about); the disappearances, the hours spent in further sessions so that the sleaze could bind him even more firmly under hypnotic control; the sleep-talking, doubtless my hapless bro’s subconscious reaction to the emotional conflict of his unnatural enslavement. The only unanswered question in my mind was why? What did he want with Chris? And I could come up with one plausible (and ugly) answer. As I’ve already mentioned, we’re not bad-looking. It wouldn’t be the first time either of us had received the kind of attention from another guy that we only wanted from girls. I only prayed I was in time to prevent the denouement. If Chris had already become some perv’s mind-controlled fuck-toy I don’t think he’d ever get over it!

I was of two minds whether to call the authorities, or to go for a full frontal assault and just pound on the door. But after my initial shock, it had occurred to me that, as unlikely as I found it, there still might be a more innocent explanation. Chris might be seeing the guy for a more legitimate kind of hypnotherapy, and all the subterfuge was just his attempt to keep me from finding out and worrying about why he thought he needed it. (Of course, if that were the case, hey, big failure there!). I decided a little more snooping was in order. Cautiously I sneaked to the side of the house. One of the windows was slightly ajar, and, although the curtains were drawn, they didn’t quite meet at the center. I could see a slice of the room through the resulting crack without being visible myself, as well as hear what was going on inside.

My brother was seated (or rather, slumped) on a couch, his eyes closed, his face blankly relaxed. It was obvious that he was indeed under hypnosis. I couldn’t see the hypnotist from my vantage point, but I could hear that smooth, honeyed voice.

“…That’s right, Chris… even deeper than that… deeper than ever before… so relaxed and peaceful… you can’t think… can’t resist… there’s nothing but my voice… my words… you obey without question… nothing can disturb you… nothing but my command can awaken you… deeper and deeper… just like that…”

I had that same feeling that I’d had at the show of almost wanting to go along with the soothing drone myself. My eyelids had even begun to flutter a little, but I shook myself back to wakefulness.

“You feel so good now… but it’s very warm in the room, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… hot…” My brother sounded asleep or drugged.

“It’s so hot… and it would feel so-o-o good just to take off all your clothes and be comfortable… Go ahead, Chris… go ahead and strip… take off everything you’re wearing.”

To my horror, my hypnotized brother kicked off his sneakers and then stood, at the same time beginning to unbutton his shirt. Well, so much for innocent explanations! “You make him stop that RIGHT NOW!” I roared. Then I sprinted back to front door and began to pound on it like a demented SWAT teamer.

A moment later the hypnotist opened the door. Even in my agitation, it struck me that he hardly looked as shocked or discomfited by the interruption as I would have expected him to. His apparent poise froze me for a moment as he looked me up and down. “Ah… the twin… Carter, is it? Please come in and calm yourself. I’m sure that once I’ve explained, you’ll realize there’s no need for these histrionics.” He stepped aside to allow me in.

I brushed roughly by him and ran to the room where I knew he was holding Chris. My brother was bare-chest, barefoot and beginning to unzip his jeans. “Jeez, Chris, snap out of it! Wake up!!” But he took absolutely no notice of me. I grabbed his hands away from his now-open fly, but as soon as I let go of them, he calmly went right back to his mindless striptease, undoing the top button and then easing his tight jeans down his legs.

“He only responds to my orders,” the hypnotist said blandly from behind me.

“Goddamnit!” I yelled, almost in tears with rage and frustration. “You bring him out of it now!!! The only reason I haven’t beaten you to a bloody pulp is I know I need your voice to free him!”

“Well, yes… there is that. But are you so certain he wants to be freed? Haven’t you ever heard that a hypnotist can’t make a man do something in trance he wouldn’t be willing to do not in trance? Your brother likes what we’ve been doing together here, don’t you, Christian?”

“I like what we’ve been doing here…” My brother’s empty, sleepy agreement did nothingwhatsoever to convince me. He sounded like the absolute model of a brainwashed slave, with no more free will than an echo.

“That’s bullshit and you know it! If Chris is so okay with having his mind and body messed with, then why does he talk all night in his sleep from the stress of the unconscious conflict?”

The hypnotist grinned like a shark. “Is that what you think was happening? Oh my goodness, this will be fun! Christian, please explain to your brother.” There was an odd inflection to the word ‘explain’.

Without opening his eyes, my now totally, embarrassingly nude brother said, “Carter, ____.”

My mind spun. What was… he said… something… it was… was… I was suddenly weightless, and warm, and happy, drifting in a tranquil pool of nothingness. My body felt like butter melting in the sun. Strong, gentle hands eased me to the floor as my muscles turned to rubber. All the stress had vanished. Somehow, I knew I too was now hypnotized, but I simply felt too good to care. Nothing mattered except Chris… not my fears… not the hypnotist… I would do anything Chris told me to as long as I could stay in this wonderful (and oddly familiar) feeling…

“Carter… going deeper and deeper, with every breath, with every beat of your heart…” My brother’s voice flowed over my melting will and washed it away completely. After some time (a little? a lot? I couldn’t judge), when he had so thoroughly enchained my mind that I could no longer think for myself, Chris ordered me to undress, and my hands willingly (will-lessly?) complied.

The hypnotist said something to him that I didn’t register, and then Chris commanded me, “Carter, you will now hear and obey Justin just as you obey me. You are completely under his control as well as mine. You are in Justin’s power. Say that.”

“I am in Justin’s power…” Was that blank toneless voice mine?

“Very good, Carter,” the hypnotist smoothly took over the proceedings. “You may open your eyes now, but don’t wake up. You too, Christian.”

My eyes struggled open and opposite me I could see Chris also blinking owlishly. We were both mother-naked now, but I couldn’t manage to care about that.

“Why don’t you both go and sit down on the couch? Side by side. That’s right… just like that. Carter, as you now must realize, your brother wasn’t expressing any subconscious anxieties during the night. He was hypnotizing you. It’s really quite easy to turn the sleep a hypnotizable individual into a trance state. In just one session of hypnotic instruction I was able to teach Christian the basic technique, and he took it from there. Since your brother is so extremely responsive to hypnosis, I gambled that you would be as well. After all, twins have so much in common, don’t they? And I was certainly right. Here you are, so completely hypnotized. You are deeply hypnotized, aren’t you… deeply hypnotized.”

“Deeply hypnotized…” my voice automatically responded, echoed by Chris.

“That’s right. So deeply hypnotized that you’ll believe anything I tell you… do anything I say. Won’t you?”

My peaceful, empty mind couldn’t think of any argument to that. “Yes.” Again, my brother and I answered almost in unison.

“Good, because I have plans for you both.” He picked up a video camera (where had that come from?). “Christian, Carter, you love your brother, don’t you?”

Well, DUH!! “Yes…”

“Of course you do. I want you to show your brother how much you love him… physically”

Okay, that was totally weird. I mean, Chris and I aren’t the kind of up-tight dweebs who spend their lives pretending they don’t have arms, so we’ve exchanged hugs often enough, on birthdays, Christmas, at hard-fought sporting contests (and since we were both on our high-school swim team, some of those were even bare-chest and wet). But we’d never before had full-on naked body contact with each other, and, other than, as I’ve mentioned before, jacking off together a couple of times in our early teens when we were still figuring out how jacking off worked, we’ve never had any kind of real sex with each other; we like girls! However, before I could process my discomfort, let alone act on it, my arms had already wrapped themselves around Chris (and his around me).

As we embraced, Justin continued, “That’s right. You’ve probably never really noticed until now how wonderful it feels to touch your brother; how good his smooth skin feels under your hands, how satisfying it is to squeeze his hard muscles. It feels so good you can’t let go. You have to continue to hug and caress him… to make love to him.”

The hypnotist continued to talk, and, at some level, I was continuing to listen; I had no choice. But my focus was completely filled with the awareness of Chris in my arms. It was all true, just as Justin had said. In all the times my brother and I had hugged, for whatever reason, it had always been about the camaraderie, the brotherly love, the shared emotional experience. It had never before been about the actual physical sensation. I’d never noticed the warm, satiny quality of his skin under my hands as they traced the sculpted contours of his back, nor the smooth, satisfying solidity of him pressed against my body; never noticed that, at exactly the same height, we fit together perfectly; never felt the frisson of my nipples rubbing against his chest, or the exclamation point of his against mine; never registered that our hearts beat in exactly the same rhythm and speed, that the scent of our heated bodies was identical. And I was beginning to get turned on! Had Justin suggested that? I couldn’t tell. My mind was simply too hypnotized to judge, and holding my brother was both as unreal as a wet-dream and, at the same time, the most hyper-intense, concentrated reality I’d ever experienced. My cock was getting harder and harder.

My lips felt like magnets being drawn to Chris’ mouth. Wait… that had to be a hypnotic suggestion. I tried to resist it, but I might as well have tried to resist the incoming tide. My brother’s sleepy face drew nearer and nearer, his beautiful eyes glazed and half-closed, his expression blank, and I stopped trying to fight my compulsion. His lips looked so soft and inviting that I just had to taste them. Our lips met, locked, opened into the deepest, wettest, most thorough kiss I’ve ever experienced. As our tongues dueled and our bodies continued to strain and rub against each other, I had a fleeting sense that this must be what the girls feel when I make out with them. Getting it on with my twin brother was weirdly masturbatory, like a hypno-dream of making love with myself.

Chris’s hand found my erection and began to fondle it, causing me to groan helplessly with pleasure. It felt just like my own hand; and just as familiar and intimately knowledgeable about my preferences. Almost instinctively I followed suit, grasping his moist hard-on. His cock felt just like my own to my stroking hand, and I quickly fell into a rhythm, long-accustomed from my own use, one that matched his perfectly.

The pleasure built and built, but somehow we weren’t getting to the climax. It wasn’t enough… My brother had relinquished my mouth by this point and was working his down. I suddenly realized that he had the right idea. I needed to suck him. Wait!! I’m not a cocksucker and neither is Chris! These weren’t my thoughts… it was another suggestion! But try as I might, Justin’s hypnotic voice was so entrenched in my thoughts that I couldn’t separate it out. His orders had become indistinguishable from my own will… were my will. My body helplessly adjusted itself into a sixty-nine configuration with Chris. I had a momentary view of his hard cock, so like looking at my own, but from an angle I could never have achieved, and then, as I felt my brother’s hot mouth envelop my dick, my own lips opened to engulf his erection. I seemed to know how to use my tongue to protect him from my teeth, how to relax my throat muscles to accommodate his length, and my delighted cock told me Chris was just as adroit. It was instinctive, or else the constant drone of the hypnotist’s words contained some instruction as well as compulsion. My hands played with his ball-sac and then began to finger his ass, and I could feel him doing the same to me. It felt incredible.

I’ve eaten my share of pussy and, frankly, not that big a fan of the flavor, so, with what little personal awareness I had left, I’d expected to be at least somewhat repulsed. But Chris’s hard cock, juicy with pre-cum, was delicious! This was great! My new favorite flavor and smell! Had Justin just said that? It didn’t matter any longer. I just knew I had to have more… had to have it filling my mouth, had to have it all over my face. I was permanently addicted. I knew I’d never get enough of my brother’s cock, my brother’s cum! I sucked away with a passion and felt Chris intensify his suctioning on me as well. I was nearing the edge, and in my hands I felt my brother’s scrotum contract. Then the hypnotist’s voice, like a cataclysmic thunder-clap through my awareness, commanded, “Cum now!”, and I was caught up in the most seismically intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced. My mouth was flooded with Chris’s juice as he came at exactly the same time. Our thrashing bodies pulled us apart from each other so that at least the last two remaining blasts of jizz escaped our mouths and splashed across each other’s faces. I was so excited by the smell and feel of that, that, scarcely had the first wave of orgasm ended when I was shooting another load, all over my brother’s face. And, at the same time, I felt the warm gush of his second orgasm splash across my lips and cheeks.

Shakily Chris and I sat back up. The sight of my cum smeared all over his beloved face filled me with such tenderness that I pulled him into my arms again. The smell of my load was the same as the smell of his and our damp, flushed faces mixed the two together as we kissed gently, over and over, basking in the afterglow.

Then the irresistible voice of the hypnotist commanded, “Carter, Christian, sleep deeply, minds blank,” and I plummeted into darkness.

“… so you see there was no reason for you to be upset. Chris wasn’t cheating on you. He was just coming to me for help with his study habits,” Justin was saying pleasantly.

I seemed to have zoned out there for a moment, probably excess relief at the innocent explanation. I looked sheepishly at my brother. “Sorry I over-reacted, bro, Mr. Spencer.”

Chris smiled lovingly. “It’s okay, Carter. I think it’s kind of sweet you can still be jealous over me. But you know you’re the only one I love; always have been, always will be.” He leaned over and kissed me.

Apologizing once more to the hypnotist (what a nice guy!), I pulled Chris to his feet and we started our exit. But, you know that psychic twin thing. As we exchanged a glance I just knew what Chris was thinking, and I was thinking the same thing: we really owed Justin more than just an apology. And I thought I knew what would be most appropriate. As one, Chris and I fell to our knees and I began to undo the hypnotist’s fly.

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trauma-aquarium · 3 years

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Okay brace yourselves, folks, this is the story of how I discovered owls living in my stove exhaust thingy on the upper floor and how I saved them from death by the hands (claws) of crows, and they became my guardians.

It all started when I was in my backyard and by chance, saw an owl peeking at me from the exhaust outlet on the upper floor.

Sorry for the low quality I had to zoom a lot from my sorry excuse of a phone.

Anyways, this is mommy owl and she had given birth to a lot of noisy kids which we could hear and smell (fowl smell) from the kitchen, and it was really hard to go to the upper floor without wanting to throw up. My father insisted we call someone and get the owls out and leave them in a yard or something.

What my father didn’t know was that me and my elder brother are softies when it comes to birds (he’s a softie for birds, i’m a softie for all animal-kind). So this man comes and after much struggle and a screeching mother (and a possible father), we manage to take out the owls.

And as you can see, they were very angry. These are the kids, mind you.

Anyways, me, the only one in the family with actual empathy for animals (and less empathy for humans bc why) and a brain that works when it comes to their care, I took these little owls to the balcony, quite close to the exhaust outlet you just saw, hoping their parents would come and maybe take them or whatever. Only then I realized that the parents themselves were smol, and couldn’t quite possibly take them anywhere. So here they are, in my balcony, defenseless, especially during the day.

And they were FIVE OWL BABIES. I was suddenly a single mother at the age of 20.

Anyways, I pet them, they try to bite me and I’m okay with that, my softie brother also gets scared easily so he just watches me do my thing- that being making them feel comfortable and safe, providing food which they didn’t quite eat bc babies.

But then I had to be on guard duty because of the damned crows who came in groups (freaking murder of crows) and tried to attack/literally murder or eat alive the poor babies. And I was having none of that.

In the hot month of May, I was on day duty scaring off crows and praying the mother would return at night. Oh, and she did. Probably cursed at me for wrecking her home (sorry but it was inevitable) and shouted at me to leave, and I did, fearing what tomorrow held.

But tomorrow was the same.

So the mother and the possible dad disappeared during the days, but the babies were active (somewhat) probably because of all the noise me and the crows made. I did my thing- petted them, gave them water, played with them if they felt like it. They gave me rashes but I was okay.

Days passed, and the owls were entering pre-teens (judging by how they started rebelling and fighting with each other) and finally came out of the little tub on their own. I felt so proud. Now they had the whole balcony all to themselves (and me, of course). And they were scared of me no more. I would help them in and out of the tub if they wanted.

They would sleep near the stairs and I’d caress their heads and they’d give me a smile (no i didn’t imagine that). And the crows would come and they would get scared for a second and look like this:

Yellow eyes. So cute.

Anyways, the mother owl and I had an understanding now too. Where she previously used to scare me when sunset approached and screech at me, she would now simply come and sit at one of the wires in front of my house and watch me pet her children and say NOTHING. And then I would wave at her and go inside and she would come and feed her children. She wasn’t all that bad. And the possible father would guard or something- I could see them from downstairs if I walked in front of my house.

This whole ordeal lasted for two months before the kids were finally old enough to fly, and I may have cried happy tears. I thought it was over now- they would move away and we’d never see each other again. But then-

I saw this from my window, my room being downstairs (don’t mind the wires, it was to keep robbers out bc robbers suddenly decided our housing society was a good place to collect money from). So everyday sunset, I’d draw my curtains apart and they would come and sit right outside my window (look at how grown they are!) and we’d screech at each other which was our love language.

So whenever I went out for a walk, there would be 5 kids and sometimes, their mommy, my guardians now. They would walk with me (fly with me, actually.) They would jump from wire to wire and occasionally, when they didn’t feel shy, they would scoop really low, circle around me and go back.

Yes. I was their Disney Princess, and I fucking felt like it too.

I called them ‘my owl friends’. I’d go out at night, look around and say ‘my owl friends, where y’all at?’ and they would come, making weird owl noises, circle around me and walk with me.

It was truly magical, and though I’m a huge cat person, I wouldn’t mind living with owls (even though they’re extremely smelly sometimes and want to eat me sometimes bc meat).

Here’s a last cute picture of my owl besties

I love them so much. I moved houses (only like three streets away but the owls couldn’t have known... could they?) and had to leave them behind, but here’s where a plot twist happens.

I think they might have put in a good word about me in the owl community, because the owls- different ones- occasionally come by. And they only come to ME.

Like this one time I was in the front yard of my house and two owls paid a visit.

Or this one time I was walking in the park in front of my house and two owls circled around me, ignoring my mom and little brother, and sat on a tree, watching me the whole time.

Either I’m a Disney Princess or these owls are planning some weird shit. Whatever it is, I’m in for it.

#owl #owls #owls of tumblr #baby owls #baby animals #animals #birds #baby birds #wholesome #my disney princess moment #cute #cute animals #wildlife #aww

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

The Family Tree is... a Disaster

Takes place in the TCW Leverage AU. It does contain a few deviations, namely that the narrative ended up shifting Plo's role in Ahsoka's life, and Ventress's role overall.

This is mostly just dialogue where I outline the fuckery that is the disaster lineage family tree, not actual fic. It stemmed from my incessant need to justify "25yo Obi-Wan somehow got custody of 9yo Anakin without Shmi dying."

Warnings for: canon character death (modernized), canon violence (modernized), and references to Nazis and white supremacists (Palpatine collects WWII weaponry as a parallel to his canon display of Sith artifacts in his office as chancellor, and Ahsoka thinks it's sketchy)

----

"Okay," Cody says, setting down a glass of whiskey as he drops into the seat across the table. "What the hell is your family tree like?"

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow, and continues cleaning off the definitely-not-stolen crystal komodo dragon he'd won in today's job. "I beg your pardon?"

"You and Skywalker," Cody says, gesturing between Obi-Wan, who is just sitting there minding his own business, and Anakin, who is across the closed-for-tonight bar and doing something inadvisable on the pool table. "You've said he was your brother, and mentioned raising him, which, sure, I'm over twenty years older than my youngest brother, people take over parenting roles all the time. But you have different last names, have mentioned stepfamilies that the other doesn't have, reference things as 'your aunt, not mine,' and I am just getting... very confused. I figured it was personal and I could leave well enough alone, but considering your older brother almost shot us today--"

"Okay, Xanatos is not my brother," Obi-Wan immediately says. "Just. I just have to stop you right there. Xanatos was a student of my father's for a time, but I promise he's not family. Nobody except maybe Komari would consider him even close, and she doesn't count since she's in prison for life and the farthest thing from stable."

Cody gestures. "That, Obi-Wan. That's what I'm talking about. I don't even know who Komari is."

Obi-Wan purses his lips in a failed attempt to not smile. "Do you actually want the explanation? It's long and unnecessarily complicated."

"So's mine," Cody snorts. Obi-Wan waits, patient and pleasant, and is rewarded when Cody sighs. "Please."

"Of course, my dear. To answer your first question, though, Anakin is my half-brother." With a smile, Obi-Wan digs a piece of paper and a pen from his briefcase. "So, center of the chain: me, my father Qui-Gon, my grandfather Yan, and my great-grandfather Yoda. With me so far?"

"Easy enough. Do you have to go back that far?"

"Great-grandfather Yoda is still alive and regularly escaping the old folks' home to terrorize younger relatives, so yes," Obi-Wan says. "Given that you may just meet a tiny, meddling relative of mine when he's bored, we do in fact have to go back that far."

"...how old is he?"

"We don't know for sure. A hundred and eight-ish is the best guess." Obi-Wan shrugs. "It's not a huge deal, mostly he likes bothering Anakin these days. Anyway, grandfather. Yan Dooku. Inherited a minory duchy from his maternal grandfather decades back. Mostly hangs around there because he's on terrorist watchlists in the States."

"Oh, lovely."

Obi-Wan grins. "Trust me, it gets worse. Anyway, grandfather never actually married, but spent most of his time with his 'best friend' Sifo Dyas, who died about a decade back."

"Gay?"

"Well, we know that now, but they got together in the seventies, and this was back when they were both working government jobs, so, you know. It happens."

"Good to know," Cody says. "So, Yoda's kid is Yan, who inherited a title and land from a maternal relative, and had a life partner but never married. With you so far."

"All of Yan's kids were adopted," Obi-Wan continues, sketching out the first branch away from the Yan/Sifo partnership. "Rael was actually grandfather's cousin, maternally, and ended up in his custody after getting orphaned at five. These days, he does most of the stewardship duties at the Serenno Duchy. His daughter Nim is teaching military history at a university in Germany."

Cody nods. "Uncle number one is named Rael, technically your dad's cousin, has a daughter. Got it."

"About a decade after Rael, they adopted my father, Qui-Gon. He and grandfather fought, frequently, but they did care for each other. My father was a botanist, did bio-engineering. We'll get back to him later, because he's where things get complicated." Obi-Wan made sure to leave room around the name. "Just a few years older than me was--is--Komari Vosa. She is... serving a life sentence. I think she fought Jango once."

"She fought my father?"

"To the best of my knowledge, they both almost died, yes," Obi-Wan says. "She's in maximum security these days. She was an assassin. I'll get a call if she breaks out, and I'll let you know along with everyone else."

"Bad news auntie, got it."

"Last adoption, sort of, is Ventress," Obi-Wan finishes off. "A few years younger than me, is technically grandfather's personal assistant and does secretarial work and the like, but we all know he's planning to leave as much of the inheritance to her as he is to the rest of us. She's aggressive and unpleasant, but she takes care of him and hasn't actually threatened to kill any of us yet, so that's fine."

"How'd she join?" Cody asks.

"Ky Narec was a friend of Qui-Gon's; Ventress was his daughter. Ky died a few years after Qui-Gon did, and Ventress was a mess, after." Obi-Wan shrugs and scratches that connection into the little sketch of a family tree as well. "Grandfather offered her a job until she got herself back together, and then she just kind of... stuck around."

"Youngest aunt, more of a cousin." Cody summarizes. "Now we go back to your father?"

"Qui-Gon Jinn was a man of many skills," Obi-Wan says drily. "Adequate birth control was not one of them."

It's almost a pity that Cody wasn't drinking anything, because going by the way he chokes, Obi-Wan's pretty sure the spit take would have been spectacular.

"I'm sorry," Cody says. "Can you repeat that?"

"I was an accident," Obi-Wan says, not even bothering to hide his smile. "So was Anakin."

"So that sounds like... a story."

"It is," Obi-Wan confirms. "My biological mother has never been in the picture. They had a fling, she wasn't sure if she'd want to abort or give me up, just that she wasn't ready to be a parent, and Qui-Gon volunteered to take full custody so she could go back to her life after the birth. I've never met her, but I kept her family name. You can consider her irrelevant beyond that."

Cody nods.

"So, when I was about a year old, Qui-Gon reconnects with an old flame, they get married two years later. Step-mother number one is Tahl. Lovely woman, I absolutely adored her, and she had a daughter, my stepsister, Bant Eerin."

"I met her, right?" Cody asks.

"Yes, she was the doctor who patched up my bullet wound a few months ago," Obi-Wan says. "With the giant glasses that make her look a little fish-eyed."

"She was nice."

"She is," Obi-Wan agrees. "At any rate, that was our family for a while, and then Tahl died when I was fourteen. Bant wanted to go to a magnet school for medical studies, and Qui-Gon's grief was... not optimal for taking care of multiple teenagers, shall we say, so Bant moved in with her paternal uncle, Kit Fisto, and Kit's son Nahdar. He's a marine biologist, incredibly friendly, and has no idea of any of the rest of my side of the family's questionable activities. If you ever meet him, you will pretend that we are a legal firm with a team of security consultants."

Cody raises a brow. Obi-Wan despairs. "Best you could do?"

"We're not that likely to run into him." Obi-Wan draws out a new line. "So, Qui-Gon deals poorly with grief. This is also around the time that Xanatos came around to ruin our lives a little. He was a very rich and unpleasant man, but he's dead as of four hours ago, so you don't have to worry about him. Or his son."

"His son?"

"Anakin handled that," Obi-Wan says. "Thoroughly. Granta Omega is no longer an issue. He's not dead, but... well. Anakin has his ways. Er--I should probably mention Feemor; he was my father's assistant at the university for a long time. Anakin and I still call him our uncle."

"Also a person to avoid mentioning criminal activity to?" Cody prompts.

"Well... no, but only because I don't think he'd care. The man is, forgive me, more of a 'walking sweatervest' than I am. He's a very bland and unassuming man. He once described himself as the background character of the soap opera that is my family's existence."

"Sounds like a charmer."

"Oh, he's very kind and clever, and witty as well. I adore him, and he really is family. He's just also very, very normal. Not boring, but..." Obi-Wan trails off and shrugs helplessly. "He's an editor for an agricultural research journal. Also not someone I anticipate us running into."

"Noted."

"Right, so, Qui-Gon dealing poorly with his grief didn't involve much drinking, but there were a few months of him trying to... lose himself in the pleasures of the flesh?" Obi-Wan tries, and then deflates at the look on Cody's face. "He was slagging around. Shmi got pregnant with Anakin, who was born when I was sixteen. Shared custody at first, Qui-Gon got him weekends and every other holiday, that sort of thing, and then they got married because they actually did like each other well enough, and it was easier on the taxes."

"So Shmi is stepmother number two."

"Shmi is stepmother number two, yes." Obi-Wan sketches in Anakin and Shmi. "About nine and a half years after Anakin was born, Shmi and Qui-Gon were in a car accident with... well, it later turned out it wasn't an accident, there was a hitman called Maul involved, he's actually Ventress's second cousin or something, I don't know. Grandfather handled most of that problem. Qui-Gon died, Shmi was in intensive care, and I got custody of Anakin as his nearest adult relative. We weren't very close before that, because I was off at university by the time he was old enough to form memories, but that changed once he started living with me. I more or less raised him as a single parent from that point."

"This is why he jokes that you're like a father to him."

"Precisely," Obi-Wan says. "Shmi took about a year to recover enough to move again, and grandfather covered the costs. She still had to live with a dedicated carer and attend daily physical therapy. At that physical therapy, she met Cliegg Lars, whose son Owen was also a patient there. They hit it off, and three years later, they married. When Anakin refers to his stepfamily he's talking about the Lars out in Nevada."

"Nevada?"

"They have a farm. A very, very normal one. We don't drag them into our activities, unless we have an at-risk person who needs a safe house." Obi-Wan pauses, and then decides this really needs to be stressed. "This is important to me and Anakin, that we don't get them involved unless there's absolutely no other choice. Shmi's been through a lot, and the Lars are busy enough running the farm."

"Works for me," Cody says. "We've got enough safe houses that it shouldn't be an issue. I'm guessing this story doesn't end there, though."

Obi-Wan grimaces. "My own love life has been... a bit of a mess."

"I already know about Kryze, at least."

There's that. "I was temporarily engaged to a friend, Siri Tachi, shortly after high school. We were in a relationship, but this was mostly something done to appease a relative of hers that was getting overbearing to the point of absurdity, and she couldn't just cut them off. We broke off the engagement after the relative passed, and we're still friends."

He notes that down, then adds the other embarrassment of his early years. "First marriage was actually a drunken joke between myself and my best friend when we were in college. We got it annulled a few months later because we just didn't have time to drop by the courthouse before then, and he's actually engaged to Asajj now."

"Asajj?" Cody asks, watching in fascination as Obi-Wan tries to mark in both his own short marriage and the newer, long-term engagement without crossing any lines. He settles for just writing the name twice and including an asterisk with 'this is the same person.'

"Ventress," Obi-Wan clarifies. "Yeah, Quinlan's a fun guy. His little sister, Aayla, treats Anakin like a beloved younger cousin."

"Are they also off-limits for criminal activity?"

"No, Aayla's the one that taught Ahsoka how to vent-crawl," Obi-Wan says. "And I'm pretty sure Quinlan has contacts in every major government branch, criminal organization, and Fortune 500 company on the planet. I reach out to them regularly."

"Resources, then."

Obi-Wan nods. "Some time later, I married Satine. We had a son; you've met Korkie. We split due to incompatibility a year and change before Qui-Gon's death. Satine doesn't engage in criminal activity, but Bo-Katan is..."

"I've met Bo-Katan. I know what she's like, Obi. You don't have to explain."

"She works with Maul sometimes."

"...the man who killed your father?"

"Yes. It's all very stupid and convoluted." Obi-Wan still writes her in. "So, that's them. Korkie goes to boarding school, and I try not to involve him in anything. Anakin and Ahsoka like to teach him self-defense and the like, but Satine is adamant that he stay unaware of my less legal dealings until he's an adult."

Cody shrugs. "Makes sense. Is that every--wait, no, Skywalker's married."

Obi-Wan grins. "Yes, and Padme's got twins on the way."

"I was there when he told us," Cody says drily. "He was very loud about it. Okay, how does Ahsoka fit in?"

"Hold on, I forgot Beru," Obi-Wan mutters. "Owen's fiancee. Same rules as the Lars. Okay, you asked about Ahsoka. Right. So. Um."

He dithers. Cody waits for him, and then Obi-Wan just gives up. "Ahsoka, dear, would you like to explain how you joined the family, so to speak?"

Ahsoka looks up from whatever she and the boys are doing--there are multiple beer glasses and straws and duct tape involved, and Obi-Wan doesn't really want to know--and then flips off the table and over to Obi-Wan and Cody. She looks over the family tree chart, and then says, "Oooh, did you tell him about the cult?"

"You were in a cult?" Cody demands.

"No, Komari was. She was head priestess or something. I dunno, it's why she's in prison and stuff."

"I did not tell him about the cult," Obi-Wan mutters, already regretting this. "The Bando Gora aren't a problem anymore. I've already gotten to explaining how you and Anakin know each other."

Ahsoka rolls her eyes, steals his pen, and starts sketching in around Quinlan's name, over by Asajj since Obi-Wan's section is too crowded. "Okay, so, Quinlan's adopted. His dad is Tholme, and Tholme's dad is Plo Koon. Plo Koon is good friends with my Auntie, Shaak Ti, who raised me. They live next door to each other, out in the country, and I'd play in his yard a lot, because he had puppies, and he took me to visit his bees. Whenever Auntie needed a babysitter, she asked Quinlan or Aayla to do it since she knew and trusted them, and Aayla needed pocket money."

"This is so unnecessarily complicated," Cody mutters.

"It is!" Ahsoka chirps. Her grin is far too sharp. "So, this one time, Aayla was watching me when I was fourteen, and she was just helping me with my physics homework. BAM, the door slams open, and in stumbled Skyguy with his arm missing. I've never met him before, and my first introduction is him shortly after he's gotten an unplanned amputation."

Anakin, on the other side of the room, giggles. Obi-Wan just sighs. The Fett brothers appear to be in the land of 'horrified fascination.'

Ahsoka revels in it. "There's blood everywhere, I'm screaming, Aayla's panicking, Anakin's halfway to unconscious and insisting we can't call the hospital, and nobody can get Obi-Wan on the phone. Quinlan's in another country, and Auntie Shaak and Uncle Plo are at a movie, so they've both got their cellphones off. Tholme was faking his death at that point to get away from an incident with the Irish Mob, so we didn't even try him."

"What the actual fuck," Rex breathes.

Ahsoka continues with relish. "We get Bant to pick up, and she's there an hour later with Padme, because Padme knows how to drive the way Skyguy does, and the entire drive there is just Auntie Bant on speakerphone telling Aayla how to stop the bleeding and get him stabilized while Padme's screaming at traffic at the top of her lungs."

"I owe Aayla a fruit basket," Anakin muses aloud. "The anniversary of her saving my life is coming up, it's warranted."

"Five years, baby!" Ahsoka crows. She fist-pumps.

Obi-Wan just drops his head into his hands. "You're killing me, children."

Anakin shrugs, grinning. "You know, I think Fett Senior might have been involved in that fight."

"My shitty dad cut off your arm?" Rex demands.

"No, I think he was busy fighting the Interpol guy," Anakin says. "But he was definitely there. I think. Blood loss kinda got to me after a bit, but I'm pretty sure Jango Fett was there, and also Boba might've been hiding in the getaway car?"

"I need another glass," Cody mutters. He doesn't stand up, though.

"Wait," Rex says. "So who cut off your arm?"

Anakin shrugs with an unsure noise. "Someone tried to convince me it was Grandpa Yan, but he was in the middle of a court case in Italy for some kind of parole violation when it happened, so he had an alibi."

"...did he actually violate parole?" Cody asks, and Obi-Wan thinks he looks like he doesn't know if he actually wants an answer.

Ahsoka shrugs. So does Anakin. Obi-Wan carefully looks at a spot behind Cody, and doesn't explain anything about wine tastings used as covers for illicit arms deals.

"The arm?" Rex prompts, sounding a little desperate to get back to the question he likely thinks is the most important.

"I still say it was Skeevy Sheev," Ahsoka chimes in.

"It wasn't Palpatine," Anakin snaps.

"Your creepy older friend who took you to operas and gives you fancy gifts and knows way too much about swords who was conveniently there to talk to the police and cover for you so you didn't get arrested for getting in the middle of a gang war in the first place, yes," Ahsoka says, dropping into a chair and sighing dramatically. "The guy who definitely hasn't been trying to convince you for a year and change that your wife is cheating on you with your older brother."

"Ahsoka!"

"What? He is."

"Anakin," Rex says, "your life sounds like a trainwreck."

"I'm not going to assume a frail, elderly man cut my arm off!" Anakin protests. "Even if he wanted to, he doesn't exactly have the muscle for it!"

"Grandfather's older," Obi-Wan points out, even though he knows it won't help. "And he definitely still could."

"Ha!" Ahsoka shouts.

"He could have hired someone?" Cody suggests. "Doesn't need to do it himself, if he has enough money."

Obi-Wan has a sneaking suspicion that Cody is deliberately stirring the pot as revenge for Anakin sending him eighty-seven cat memes inside an hour during last night's dinner.

"You all suck," Anakin declares. "Also, what the hell do you mean 'knows way too much about swords,' Ahsoka? You know way too much about swords!"

"Yeah, but I'm like ninety-percent sure that his antiques are Prussian and mid-century German military officer dress uniform relics, and pairing that with the Nazi pistols he's got on display--"

"He's just a history buff! And his family's German, of course he prioritizes that region, it's not like he doesn't have Russian or French or English antiques in there too, it's all sides of the war and--"

"I'm just saying he's almost definitely sending me sketchy glances like he thinks I'm planning to steal the silver on the three occasions you've had me with you when you stop by, and I'm pretty sure it's got less to do with my criminal record and more to do with me being, you know, not white."

Anakin looks ready to blow, so Obi-Wan interrupts. "Ahsoka, you were explaining how Anakin passing out on Aayla and scaring us all half to death led to your friendship?"

Ahsoka blinks at him, and then sticks her tongue out at Anakin and turns back to the chart. "So basically, Skyguy had to recuperate in Uncle Plo's living room for a week or two, and I kept showing up to bother him because he was bored and nobody would give him a laptop for 'security reasons,' because he had to lay low and stuff. He made me help him sketch out designs for a prosthesis and do all the writing for the math he had to do for the 3D printer, and we got to chatting."

Ahsoka hops up and back onto a table, legs swinging below her. "I decided he was cool and started following him around while he was getting used to only having one hand, mostly because I was bored. He showed me how to hotwire a car, and explained the best places to put a bug if you were looking to make it sneaky, and he picked my pocket to show off so many times when he was walking around Uncle Plo's house that I made him teach me that, too. And, uh, then Aayla found out and they got into a shouting match about it and decided they both needed to teach me parkour so I could get out of any mess I got myself into, since I was obviously going to follow them into a life of crime."

"And you did," Anakin says, far too proudly. "You're the best thief in this half of the country."

"Only because Aayla moved out east."

Anakin rolls his eyes and pulls Ahsoka into his side, digging his knuckles into her skull. "Best thief! You are the best thief! Be proud of yourself!"

"Let go!"

"Never!"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead. "Children, please."

"You're not my dad," Ahsoka growls out at him. "Skyguy, I'm going to bite you!"

"Good luck, the only arm you can access is the one that's going to break your teeth."

Ahsoka shrieks in outrage and stomps on Anakin's instep.

It's almost funny, for all that Obi-Wan's seen it play out a million times before, but the really interesting part is seeing Rex's look of fond dismay.

Obi-Wan thinks he might be adding a branch out to the Fetts soon. He's not actually sure if Rex is interested in Anakin or Ahsoka, and he's smack dab between them in age, so that's not a help either, but... well. The expression is familiar enough.

"Please tell me you don't match-make," Cody mutters to him.

"No, I plan to let the pieces fall where they will," Obi-Wan responds, just as low, and far more amused. "I'm simply trying to predict where those landings are to be."

Cody looks at him, and then back at the roughhousing trio, and sighs heavily. "You know, I really didn't think that you technically being minor royalty was going to be the least convoluted thing in your story, Obi-Wan."

He laughs, because it's true. "I'm first in line to inherit the title, since Rael denounced his claim. Nim isn't interested, and Qui-Gon's dead, so... I'm next."

Cody makes a face. "Delightful. I'm guessing that's not a connection we can safely make use of."

"No more than the Kryze or Naberries, I'm afraid." Obi-Wan claps him on the shoulder. "Chin up, I've plenty others in the metaphorical rolodex, all far less legitimate and far more amenable to work with our little outfit."

"Rolodex, really?" Cody snorts. "You're not that old."

Obi-Wan smiles winningly. "You don't know how old I am, Cody. All my IDs are fake."

"Anakin's twenty-four, and you're sixteen years older than him, going by the story you just told me," Cody points out. "I do know how to do basic math, Obi-Wan."

"I had to try," Obi-Wan admits. "I threw a lot of information at you all at once; I'd hoped you missed some of the ages in there."

"I have eight brothers," Cody scoffs. "And literally dozens of cousins, plus niblings, uncles, aunts, and so on. I have experience on this."

"If I asked you to list of the age of every single relative you have, you'd be able to do it?"

"Do you want me to draw a chart? I can draw a chart."

Obi-Wan can't help but laugh. "I'd be delighted, my dear."

Cody rolls his eyes, but Obi-Wan thinks--it's hard to tell in the dimmed lights of the closed bar--that there's a hint of a blush on the man's face. Obi-Wan lets himself slouch to the side, drops his head to rest on one fist, indolent debauchery in every line of his body. Cody does his best to ignore him, but Obi-Wan knows how to smile lazily and blink slowly and draw a man in.

(The whole 'indolent debauchery in every line of his body' phrasing is Anakin's, from back when he was a teenager trying to read highbrow literature to impress a cute girl... and to come up with new insults for his older brother.)

"So," Cody says, with a cough meant to somehow distract Obi-Wan from whatever's showing on the man's face. "Why, uh, why is your grandfather on terrorist watchlists?"

"Well, he didn't initially do anything," Obi-Wan says. "He was just a gay man who didn't hide it quite well enough, and had too much money and too white a face for someone to just call the cops on a faulty report. The Red Scare was technically over by that point, I think, but if a few people made suggestions that he was more loyal to the country that gave him a noble title than to the United States... he received a few warnings, of course, and it could have all blown over..."

"But?"

"But my grandfather is not a man to do things by halves, and instead decided that if the government was to list him as a threat, then he would oblige and make himself a threat," Obi-Wan finishes. "Living up to their labels, rolling with the assumptions, whatever you'd like to call it. It all irked him, and so he made some incredibly questionable decisions to make the government's lives harder. Some weren't bad, like donating to anti-war foundations that were protesting the Gulf War and the interventions in Yugoslavia, that sort of thing, and some were... nobody really looks well on gunrunning, you know."

"For fuck's sake..."

"Indeed," Obi-Wan chuckles. "Ironically, he has minimal opinion on the optimal form of economics, for all that virulent xenophobia and the remnants of anti-communism were involved in the whole mess. He just wanted to create problems for the people that were causing him problems."

Cody shakes his head. "I want to judge that, but you've met my father."

"Jango Fett is, indeed, also not a man to do things by halves," Obi-Wan agrees, attempting to nod gravely but breaking into a smile at the end. "That man is absurd."

"At least he's not dragging Boba into it anymore," Cody mutters. He drags over the fresh sheet of paper and pen that Obi-Wan offers him. "Okay, right, let's start with Jaster..."

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

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Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Content/Warnings: mentions of Diana’s Alzheimer’s and Schizophrenia, prison, separation of father and daughter, swearing

A/N: i hope you guys enjoy my new fic! this may be about 8 chapters or so! i’m not sure yet, going to see how interested people are in the plot :) (also quick disclaimer: i have never been in the foster care system so please excuse any inaccuracies)

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Spencer never wanted his daughter to see him like this, being brought into the BAU bullpen in handcuffs. He was supposed to be the good guy.

Right now, he couldn’t tell if he still was. He had good intentions going down to Mexico to get non-FDA approved medicine for his mom but he may have killed someone in the process. If only he could just remember.

Camellia ran into his arms to hug him, a hug he so desperately wanted to return if it wasn’t for these stupid cuffs around his wrists.

“They can’t just take you away, Dad,” she cried.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’m going to get back to you as soon as possible,” he promised, kissing the top of her head.

Spencer felt absolutely crushed as the guards had to drag his crying 11-year-old off of him so he could be taken to his holding cell.

You had just gotten off of work when your phone rang. Eileen, the head foster care coordinator, was calling.

“Hello,” you answered.

“Hey Y/N,” she greeted you, “I know you haven’t had a foster kid in a few months but I kind of have an urgent case. 11-year-old sixth grade girl. Mom has been out of the picture for a while, Dad recently imprisoned and on trial for murder. There are a bunch of family friends willing to take her but no direct family,” she explained.

“I can take her for as long as she needs,” you told Eileen.

“Great! I’ll text you the address, it’s the FBI headquarters.”

When you walked into the BAU, still in your dino scrubs and white lab coat, Eileen was surrounded by a frantic group of people.

“As I said before, I don’t doubt any of your credentials but this is the law. We can only give away a child to direct family at this point in time. If you are not direct family, you will need a lawyer to fight for custody as well as permission from her father but that process could take months,” Eileen stated.

“Spencer hasn’t spoken to his father in years and his mother is in a facility for her schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s,” a dark-haired woman spoke.

“Exactly so she must be turned over to the foster care system. I apologize to you all but this is how it works. We can’t bend the rules,” Eileen said.

“I don’t want Callie fending for herself in a house with 20 other kids,” a blonde-haired woman argued, “I’m her godmother. She stays with me all the time. She was staying with me while Spencer was in Mexico.”

“Sorry, my answer is still no. But, hopefully this will squash your concerns, Y/N!” she called you over, “This is Y/N. Jo will be placed with her. She is a pediatric doctor and currently has no other foster kids at the moment but all of her past kids have absolutely adored her. She always passes her surprise safety and wellness checks with flying colors.

“Hi,” you waved, intimidated by this huge group of frustrated people with guns on their hips.

“A doctor? So she isn’t even going to be home most of the time,” a curly-haired man scoffed.

“Actually, I own my own practice. I don’t work at a hospital so I usually have a regular 8-4 shift unless one of my patients needs urgent attention,” you clarified.

“JJ, don’t make me go,” a girl, who you could only assume was Callie, sobbed.

They were all staring at you like you were the worst person on Earth. You wanted to shrivel up and die. When you went through the process of becoming a foster parent, you thought this was a very admirable thing to do. You just wanted to provide a good home to kids in need.

“Do any of you have a key to Dr. Reid’s residence so Camellia can pack a bag?” you asked politely.

The woman closest to Callie that must be JJ pulled a key off of her chain and handed it to you.

“I’ll-um-leave my phone number and address here so you guys can contact me at any time or stop by. I understand your concerns but please know I try my absolute hardest to make sure all kids feel welcome and safe in my house,” you scribbled your information down on a scrap piece of paper.

“Are you ready to go, Camellia?” you asked softly.

She went around hugging everyone in the circle before solemnly nodding to you.

God, you felt like such an asshole.

After Callie finished packing her things from her bedroom in relative silence, you returned to the car.

“I don’t know what you like to eat but we can stop at the grocery store so we can get stuff you like and any other things you need,” you said.

You were met with silence from the backseat. You offered for her to sit in the passenger seat but she declined.

“Listen, I’m really not trying to be the bad guy here. Please don’t make me out to be one. I know you are having a tough time with your Dad’s situation right now but shutting everyone else out won’t help,” you spoke softly, “Trust me, I know.”

You sighed when the silence continued. You pulled out of the Reid’s driveway and headed to the grocery store.

You let Callie lead when you entered the grocery store, opting to follow behind her with the cart. She went immediately to the frozen meal section and started throwing them in.

“Camellia, that’s fine if those are what you want but just so you know, I love to cook so I can make you anything you want,” you offered.

“This is what I’m used to,” she spoke sharply, “My dad is not a bad dad, he just usually doesn’t have much time.”

“I never claimed he was,” you defended yourself.

After that, you kept your mouth shut. Clearly, she was a very independent girl and she had her own routine she liked to stick to.

You hauled all the grocery bags inside the house and unloaded them as Callie brought in her suitcases.

“So Camellia, I put all the food you picked out in these two cabinets. I mean obviously, you are welcome to anything in the kitchen but I just wanted you to know where the things you picked out were. I always have a grocery list on the fridge that you can add to,” you began to give her a tour of the house, “Bathroom is in there. There’s another upstairs. Here’s the living room with a TV,” you headed up the stairs, “Here’s my room.”

On your bed was an adorable toyger kitten cuddled up on your pillow.

“Oh! This is Winnie like Winnie the Pooh. I just got her a few weeks ago from a shelter. She is super friendly and loves snuggles so she will probably try to sneak into your bed unless you keep your door closed.”

“I don’t mind,” Callie spoke softly as she petted Winnie.

You smiled softly. These were the first words you got out of her that weren’t a rejection.

You continued the tour, “There’s a bathroom between our rooms but I tend to use the downstairs one so feel free to make it your own. And here’s your room,” you opened the door to a white room with a queen bed in the center, a small bookshelf, a few plants, and paintings.

“I hope this is good enough for now. We can go out this weekend to a home goods store if you want to redecorate. I’d even be open to repainting it if you want,” you offered.

Callie just set her bags down and nodded.

“Alright, I’ll leave you be. I’ll probably be downstairs for a while watching TV if you want to join. Let me know if you want me to make you anything,” you began to shut the door but Winnie slipped in first.

“Good night, you guys,” you smiled softly.

“Do you want me to wait out here or come in with you?” you asked softly.

Spencer had been denied bail, meaning he was transferred to a federal prison and Callie was going to be staying with you for a while. She had taken the news rather hard as expected when the team came over to your house to tell her. You still weren’t really accepted by the group so you mostly stood in the corner of the kitchen while they were all in your living room.

You had spoken to Eileen several times about Callie’s current situation. She gave you permission to do whatever you saw fit. This means you could opt her out of school one or two days a week if she wasn’t feeling up to it as long as she emailed her teachers and got her missed work in on time. You were researching different therapists for her to talk to because she didn’t seem to want to open up to you. You were also given a schedule of visiting times for her to visit her dad in prison.

“I’ll just go in alone,” she walked in the door to the visiting room, leaving you in the waiting room.

“Dad,” Callie tried to hug Spencer but the guard pointed to the ‘No Touching’ sign posted on the wall.

They both sat down defeatedly at opposite ends of the table.

“How are you?” Callie inquired, wiping her tears away from seeing her father locked up.

“I don’t want to talk about me, sweetheart. How are you? Emily and my lawyer visited yesterday and told me you had to be placed into foster care,” Spencer asked, concerned.

“It’s okay. Not the best,” she sighed.

“What’s happening? Are they hurting you? Are they not giving you enough to eat? Callie, I’ll have my lawyer on the phone and you out of there so quick,” Spencer frantically stated.

“No, Dad. Y/N is fine…nice, even. But she’s not you,” Callie cried.

Spencer’s face softened, “I’m so sorry, Callie. You don’t deserve to be dealing with any of this.”

“Just please come home,” she sniffled.

“I’m trying, sweetheart, I’m really trying,” he replied earnestly with tears in his eyes.

A/N: i will also be starting a series taglist if you don’t want to be added to my main taglist so just clarify which one you want to join! also i recommend listening to the song Home by Phillip Phillips because it is kind of like the theme song for this story

main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @g0lden-cth @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego

series taglist: @ilovespencerreidmarryme

#spencer reid angst #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid #cm fanfic #spencer x reader #reid x reader #criminal minds

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alice-angel12x · 3 years

Text

Naga! BakuDekuShoto X (fem)Mermaid!Reader

Part 2. Here

Y/n is warned to never go near the surface by her pod. She's been going near the surface every night and very early at dawn, sunrise to relax, sing, watch the sunset. Being a mermaid had its many blessing and curses. They were creatures of great beauty and magic, from their beautiful voices to the powerful magic in just a single tear. So naturally, they were secretive creatures.

A great lake deep in the forest of Atigus, a large pod of Merpeople lived in this lake. A lake so deep it could have been mistaken for the deepest part of the ocean. Living so far down in the deeps, they were a bit isolated from the many magical and grand creatures that also inhabit the forest.

Yet Y/n was a curious individual and would swim near the surface, in hopes of seeing another creature. Thought she was smart enough to know that there is one creature that she must avoid at all costs, Man. Yet She would brave the bright surface, and sing out to no one in particular.

One day as she ventured to the surface at sunset, she began to sing into the wind. As she rested on the lake's edge, she suddenly felt a painful sting on her shoulder. Y/n gasped in pain, but her body became so heavy suddenly and lost all control. As she laid there motionless, as she heard the snicker and the strange language of humans.

The humans quickly slumped the unconscious mermaid onto their backs and tried to find their way back to the village. Yet as they walked down the path, they could feel predatory eyes watching them.

As one of the humans looked around, they noticed that special markings were etched into the tree's around them.

"Oh no, we have walked into Naga territory," one of the humans gasped in horror.

As the two trembled, a large shadow engulfed them. The tallest stood up to 9 feet in height, standing above them, while the shortest stood 7 feet. They couldn't begin to fathom how long these nagas could be. These giants glared down at the small humans that had invaded their territory.

Dealing with the humans was simple, yet something did catch one of their eyes. The smaller green naga noticed the abandoned creature on the ground.

"What is that?" The freckled naga wondered.

"It looks like to be a humanoid creature like us," a red and white naga commented as he leaned over the mermaid.

"Yet, it's not. Its scales look strange and its tail is so short, it's the same size as those pathetic humans," The ashy blond Naga scoffed as he picked the mer by her tail.

"K-kacchan! Careful," the green-haired naga gasped.

"Why does it look like part fish?" The red and white naga asked, " You should be careful, Bakugo."

"Whatever, Deku," Bakugo scoffed, as he tossed the body over to green Naga.

"Nice catch Midoriya," The red and white naga commented.

"Thanks, Shoto," Izuku sighed as he got a closer look at the creature.

"So what do you think it is?" Shoto asked.

" It must be some water-faring creature, other than that I'm not sure," Izuku said as he held the mermaid close. " It would be nice to speak to her about it. Maybe I could hold onto her, F-for a little while."

"Why?" Shoto asked.

"Probably cause this will be the only female that can't walk out on him for better a mate," Bakugo commented.

"I think you may be projecting a little, Bakugo," Shoto commented.

Bakugo scoffed and slithered off somewhere else, as Izuku and Shoto stood in awkward silence.

"S-so does that mean I can? N-Not for the reason that he said!" Izuku said quickly.

"I'd... Certainly hope not," Shoto said simply.

_________________________

As Y/n slowly came to her senses, she could feel something odd. As she slowly opened her eyes, she noticed that this body of water was barely deep. Plus something was wrapped around her, it felt strange.

She slowly opened her eyes, to see that the surface of the water was just a foot above her head. And wrapped around her waist was a tail, a snake tail. Y/n tensed slightly, but the creature felt her movement and quickly tightened its hold.

She was suddenly pulled up above the surface and was face to face with a freckly face with forest green eyes. His eyes were full of wonder and curiosity as he inspected Y/n very closely.

Y/n wanted to scream, yet remained frozen. Not only was she unsure of this creature, but also intimidated by its great size. She never felt so small and helpless.

"what are you? And who are you?" Deku asked as he muttered other questions.

"A-a mermaid, my name is Y/n," Y/n squeaked nervesly.

"Ah, like an Oceanid," Izuku smiled." I-i have to write this down, I have so many questions."

As his tail wraps more around Y/n, she watches as the snake man turns to gather his parchment paper. They were covered in writings and notes about almost anything. Before Y/n could get a grasp of what was happening, she was drowned in the naga's curious questions. He must have not been paying too much attention as he tightened his hold.

"C-can't...Breath," Y/n whimpered as she passed out.

------------- Deku suddenly felt Y/n go slack, he stopped rambling and quickly looked at her.

"AHh! Y/n," Izuku gasped as he quickly placed her back in the small watering hole.

"Oi, killed it already," Bakugo laughed mockingly.

"N-no, Y/n passed out," Izuku said nervesly.

"So what is she?" Shoto asked as he tried to get a better look.

"An Oceanid, but she calls herself a mermaid," Izuku said as he put down his notes.

"Hmm, well what were those humans doing with one?" Shoto asked.

"Probably harvest her for magical properties. If they can't possess magic on their own, then they will take it," Bakugo scoffed simply.

"Well, I'm glad we came across those humans then," Izuku said with a relieved sigh.

___________

After a couple of weeks, Y/n grew used to Izuku and his curiosity. She would learn many things about him, that he was defiantly a curious Naga and a very emotional one. Will cry a river at any strong emotion he feels. Y/n could only hope that this small pool of water was not his tears. She would learn a bit about his other two companions.

Bakugo is the most prideful and skilled of the three. Always going off how he will be the best and rise the ranks among their kind. Shoto on the other hand seemed very calm out of the three. Almost to the point where he seemed indifferent about everything, though he takes everything very seriously.

Izuku would also learn a lot about her and her home in the great lake. How they knew many great magical treasures and plants within Atigus. It was just so fascinating to him, and it felt so nice to have someone discuss the magical phenomena with him.

As Y/n rested in Izuku's coils, a question came to mind.

"Hey Izuku, you've been so sad as of late. What is making you so sad?" Y/n asked.

"Um, it's a little embarring to talk about, but... The season of union is coming to an end soon. And during this time Nagas begin to pair and bond, and we bond for life. Sadly a girl I had my heart set in already bonded with someone else. So I may just end up being unpair," Izuku explained.

"What about Bakugo and Shoto?" Y/n asked.

"Well, most are annoyed or frightened by him, and would rather stay far away from him. And Shoto, has a bit of a hard time, umm, connecting to others," Izuku said slowly and awkwardly.

"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that. I can't see why you would not find someone. Your sweet and so kind," Y/n smiled as she rested her harms on his coils.

Izuku's face turned a bright red as his tail tightened slightly. His heart fluttered in his chest as he stared down at his Oceanid friend.

"Y-you really think so?" Izuku mumbled, as his eyes watered.

"Despite your timid nature, you are willing to help though in need. Even if they may not deserve it," Y/n smiled up at him.

"Thank You Y/n," Izuku thanked as he cried waterfalls as hugged Y/n closely.

"Though you can be a bit of a cry baby," Y/n winced as she was drenched in tears.

But he didn't hear the last comment as he hugged her close.

----------------

"Shouldn't you be returning Y/n to the great lake, Surely she would like to return to her home and family," Izuku's friend Iida asked.

As the two patrolled the large Naga territory. Izuku's heart began to thump in his chest in a panic at the thought. The thought had many times came across his mind, but the thought of parting with her. Tore his heart apart.

-----------------

"Oh, you're still here?" Shoto asked as he entered the cave.

"Umm, have been for this past Month Shoto," Y/n said as she poked her head above the water.

"Izuku must hold you dearly if he hasn't returned you home yet," Shoto said as he found a comfy spot and laid down.

"Y-you think so?" Y/n asked nervesly.

"Hmm, don't you miss your family? I'm surprised you haven't asked him to return you," Shoto commented.

As Y/n studied him, she could feel something about those words. Like it wasn't just meant for you to answer.

"Are Nagas not close to their parents?" Y/n asked.

"Um, not all, but most," He said with a slightly sad look.

"What about you, if it's not too personal?" Y/n asked.

Shoto stayed silent for a time, as he slowly touched the burn on his face. " I could care less what my father is up to, but I... I do wonder how my mother is doing after she ran away from me and my dad," Shoto said sadly.

"W-why would she do that?" Y/n gasped.

"She said my left side and red scales looked too much like my horrible father. She burned the left side of my face and ran," Shoto answered as he covered his scar. " I was too horrible for her to look at."

Y/n frowned sadly at his story and pulled herself up onto the dry ground. She slowly approached Shoto's tail as she awed at his lovely scales.

"Your white scales shine like pearls, and the red ones look like rubies, your so lovely, Shoto," Y/n said in a soft tone.

Shivers ran up his spine as he felt the warm fingers slide across his scales. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly coiled his tail around her.

"Y-you couldn't possibly mean that," Shoto said slowly.

"Of course I do. You know if you smiled more, maybe the ladies or gentlemen would flock to you," Y/n smiled.

"Flock? Like... Birds?" Shoto asked, really confused.

"No silly, I mean many would find you more approachable," Y/n laughed.

Her laugh was so small and cute, he could help but tighten his hold on her. He could feel her warmth on his scales as he slowly leaned in closer to her.

"If you're doing what I think you're doing, then you two are disgusting," Said a voice.

The two quickly turned to see Bakugo, who came back from a hunting outing. A large boar was slung over his shoulder as he entered the cave.

"Find a different part of the cave to suck each other's face," Katsuki grumbled.

"Why would we do that?" Shoto asked with pure confusion.

"Cause It's decent," Bakugo growled.

"No, why would we suck each other's faces?" Shoto asked again.

"I'm done with you," Bakugo scoffed.

_____________

Shoto and Izuku had to eventually leave to do a final scout turn, leaving Bakugo and Y/n. Bakugo had no interest in talking to the mermaid and did his own thing, by cooking the boar he caught. Y/n with nothing to do hummed to herself, her voice echoing off the walls of the cave.

"So you were the source of that voice," Bakugo said suddenly.

"Ummm... I was right next to you. How did you not know until now?" Y/n asked with a deadpanned look.

"No, every time around sunset I could hear something in the wind. A voice, singing," Bakugo said simply.

"Oh, I thought I was just singing to myself," Y/n said bashfully.

"More like to the whole forest," Bakugo huffed.

"Was I okay?" Yn asked slowly.

"You were definitely better than those harpies who think they can sing," Bakugo scoffed, turning away to hide his red ears.

"That is so sweet of you to say," Y/n said, slightly touched.

"Tch. Well, I don't really care for the noise of rain, you can keep doing what you were doing," Bakugo said slowly.

Y/n smiled at the tsundere naga and continued her song.

_________________

(3 weeks later)

Y/n and the three nagas grew closer and closer during the 3 weeks. The season of Union was quickly coming to a close, but tensions were high among the three males.

One morning, Shoto had his tail wrapped protectively around Y/n's sleeping form when he heard a soft but challenging hiss. Looking up sightly he could see it was Izuku. Izuku's usual large round pupils were now slits, as his serpentine tongue flicked between his lips.

"Yes, Izuku?" Shoto asked coldly.

"Your turn to patrol soon, maybe you should let her go now," Izuku said as nicely as possible, as he slowly inched closer.

Shoto tensed as Izuku slowly got closer. Shoto's pupils quickly turned to slits as he hissed back. Y/n was unable to sleep through the loud noises coming from the two.

"What's with all the noise," Y/n groaned sleepily, as she untangled herself from Shoto's coils.

"Would you shut it you two," Bakugo growled, as he pulled Y/n's sleepy form closer to him.

"B-bakugo, careful," Izuku hissed.

"I am," Bakugo said simply.

"Don't you both have someplace to be?" Izuku said with a slight hiss.

"W-what are you all fighting about?" Y/n asked, slightly more awake.

________________________

Pt.2 maybe?! I don't know

#naga au #mha bakugou #Mha #Bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #Naga Izuku #mha izuku #izuku midoria x reader #izuku midoriya #shoto torodoki #shoto x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #naga bakugou #Naga shoto #fantasy au

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neosarchives · 2 years

Text

because i met you,

—ep13: some other stuff

warning: food?

word count: 0.57k

Knock knock— Y/N opened her door and appears in front of her is a small little girl in the arms of a young man. “Baba!” the little girl yelled out, reaching out her arms indicating to be held. “Hey Y/N!” the young man added.

“Hey, guys!” she replied, welcoming them into her home, “Make yourself feel at home!” With that, Bada jump out of Y/N’s arms and started looking around.

“I hope some steak and pasta is fine for dinner?” she asked Mark. “Yeah, of course! I’ll be expecting it~” he replied.

Y/N then headed to the kitchen to finish cooking, while Mark followed. “You know you can just take a seat or something” she chuckled. “Yeah, but I want to give you company, and some hands if you need it” he replied with a sheepish smile.

“Alright, then do you mind just grabbing those and setting them on the table?” She requested, pointing at the tray with the food she prepared.

Timeskip to them eating. “Hey, so uh—may I ask what happened to you yesterday?” Mark asked hesitantly.

Y/N was taken aback but responded, “Uhh— I just had some business things I had to do and some other stuff.”

Mark saw the sudden change in the tone of her voice and expression and decided to drop the topic as it seems that she’s slightly uncomfortable. “Oh- that’s right, Bada’s birthday is coming soon!”

Y/N turned to the little girl, who chose to sit beside her, “Wooow, Bada-ya, how old are you going to be?” she asked. Bada turned to her dad to make sure to answer right, “I’ll be— four years old!”

Mark praised her and asked what she wanted to do for her birthday, in response she mentioned that she wanted to have pancakes at the ‘pancake place’.

Mark lightly laughed, and whispered to Y/N, “it’s your cafe by the way.” Causing Y/N to laugh, “Ahhh, Bada loves pancakes?” Bada hummed and continued eating, minding her business.

“Well, I guess, Bada’s birthday is my next project.” Mark chuckled, causing Y/N to laugh at him. “You know good for you, I love how you are so attentive to your daughter, I can see that you’re willing to do anything and everything for her. You’re wife or girlfriend must be so lucky.”

Hearing the last part of her sentence, slightly affected Mark’s expression, which Y/N noticed but Mark tried to brush it off. “I don’t have anyone actually,” he stammered. Y/N saw the discomfort of the topic too and decided to not ask even if curiosity kills her.

“At least you have this beautiful little girl~” she commented in hopes to uplift his mood. Mark smiled and continued to talk about anything that comes to mind to relieve some awkwardness.

After eating dinner, Y/N had prepared some cake and fruits for dessert and headed to the living room. The two entertained Bada and at the same time talking about anything and everything. “It’s kind of crazy at how close we’ve gotten in a short period of time, well at least I think so,” Mark mentioned. “Yeah, no I agree, and to think we met and got close because of this angel,” she replied while caressing Bada’s head.

Eventually, Bada fell asleep on the couch, while Mark and Y/N continued to talk, getting to know each other for the rest of the night.

home [prev.] [next]

⋆ pairing: mark lee x reader

⋆ summary: after the mother of his child left him for another guy, mark had developed trust issues which brought him to never want to fall for any girl again. everything was going well in mark’s life, just him, his beloved daughter, his best friends, and his success as an author. what happens if a girl unexpectedly comes, and already falls before even realizing it?

⋆ a/n: i feel like this is so bad- the first draft I wrote was most probably better :( please send any feedback, opinions etc! and send an ask to be added to the taglist :)

s;taglist: @najaemism @catscoffeeandkpop @studywoo @keijikunn @aedreamzy @smolpeyy bimy;taglist: @tennieboiii @minavenue @hyuckshinee @cacaubs @y3jiishot @hae06 @morkleetrash @rinrinslovebot @yipyipmorals

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neopuppy · 3 years

Text

Dive Into You: Part 4.(M)

Preview: “What brings you into confession today?”

Pastor Lee’s voice sounds through the small wooden booth around you. Uncomfortably shifting in your seat when the reality of confessing your sins to the one who brought them into this world settles.

“Pastor… what does the bible say about pre-marital sex with two brothers?”

“At the same time?!” Pastor Lee spits out abruptly, gagging on his words.

“Separately Pastor!”

Pairing: brothers Jeno/Haechan x female reader

Word Count: 4k

Genre: pwp, church boys AU, smut, love triangle, brothers nohyuck, a little angsty

Warning: sacrilegious themes, explicit language, master manipulator Haechan, innocent Jeno, corruption, cheating, religious innuendos

Smut Warning: dry humping, fingering, in public setting

Intro—>

Part 1–>

Part 2–>

Part 3–>

“Oh my gosh goodness, that woman is old enough to be his mother!” Your mother gasps, hand over her chest. Haechan strutting into mass with, quite frankly a woman old enough to be his mother. Scantily clad in a tight skimpy hardly there dress. Arm securely draped around her waist. Your jaw falls open following where he leads her into a pew. Both Mark and Jeno sharing looks, back and forth between you and Haechan. Mumbling whispers erupting throughout the crowd of church-goer’s gathered.

“Isn’t that woman just a bit too mature for Pastor Lee’s son?” A voice behind you whispers. Conversations sparking around faster. Pastor Lee awestruck at the podium, slack jawed similar to you and others questioning what Haechan is doing. Your mother scoffing eavesdropping in on everyone muffling their words.

“That is just disappointing. Such a promising young man, wasting his time with an old whore like that.” She lets out a sound in dismay. Never noticing how you hide your face behind the scripture for today's mass. If you muted everyone's speaking enough, sure enough, you’d be able to hear your heartbreaking this very moment. Blinking away hot tears threatening to pass over the rims of your eyes.

Your mother may have not noticed, but that didn’t mean the altar boys missed the way you sunk into your seat. Sadness taking over your features as Haechan relaxed in the pew across from you. Arm around this woman’s shoulders, large smirk displayed. Jeno and Mark gave you many warnings, too many. Your stubborn fault for not listening…always insisting to do things your way. Maybe this was how life worked? How could you have expected a guy like Haechan to want you for more than sex?

Your eyes lift to the ominous cross hung above the altar where you let Haechan commit sin with your body. This church becoming more like a place to drag your mind through hell than anything. Ah, but what was really the point in letting yourself get upset over this? He used you, like some brainless naive idiot you danced along to the pied pipers fiddle.

With a few rapid blinks you return to stare at the floor until this dragging mass ends. Catching Jeno’s gaze before you land on the dirty brown itchy carpet. His lips part open, surprised when your eyes lock on each other. The question passing through his mind all too obvious in his stare. A silent ‘are you ok?’ that you didn’t even deserve from him.. Forcing a smile, your eyes end on the floor, defeated. What if Jeno was the angel on your shoulder that you turned a muted ear to? Turning the volume up for the devil on your other side. Consequences, that’s what the bible was all about wasn’t it? Learning your lesson and living with the aftermath.

Eve bit into the apple of temptation, you were no different.

——————————————————————————

“Father Lee insisted we provide fruit along with baked goods. Health is wealth!” Your mother slaps an apple in your palm. Turning to greet approaching bodies with a shining bright small. Like a wire hanger was propped in her mouth.

“Watermelon! My favorite!” Mark’s brows wiggle, picking up a plate of vibrant fruit. “The fruit of salvation. You know fruit represents, pleasures.. overindulgence, temptation.”

Mark holds up a slice of bright red watermelon. Pale light in the bible room dimming it’s flavorful beauty. Admiring it as if it’s the best thing in the world. He takes a large bite, avoiding seeds. Juice spilling down his chin, speaking between chews- “Can’t always agree with the bible I guess.”

“That’s shocking coming from you..” you look at the apple in hand. Thumb rubbing over a bruise developed on the red yellow coating.

“Nothings perfect right? Only God is perfect. Look at that apple, bruised but still serves a purpose. Sort of like us, we have our flaws but we’re doing our best.” Mark shrugs, devouring the rest of his watermelon.

“You’re pretty logical when you’re not quoting Samael 6:66 all the time.” You smile, earning the jaw drop from Mark as expected.

“Now that is just blasphemous, you little harlot!” Mark scoffs. Damn finger waving about in front of your nose. “Jesus said..”

“Save the quote, I’m not seeing the gates of heaven anytime soon.” You quietly interrupt Mark. Setting down the apple with the other fruits. Some more pristine then others, none perfect. How could perfection be defined anyway..

“I’m pretty sure my invitation to the sky above got revoked years ago.” Perfection spoke up. Jeno standing by, catching the tail end of your conversation. Hands shoved into the pockets of his tight black jeans. Form hugging black t-shirt tucked in. Defined trimmed waist leading down to sculpted long legs. Physique of a God if you’d ever seen one.

“Gods for sure not the only perfect being..” you mumble under your breath. Mark and Jeno’s eyes both lifting to you curiously. Smiling, shrugging off a response. “Well I’m sure you redeemed yourself with all that bible camp stuff. God loves shit like that.”

“Does he now?” Jeno’s arms cross over his chest. Forehead wrinkling in surprise. Mark muttering into another bite of fruit how you needed to stop cursing all the time.

“He doesn’t communicate with me, but I’d imagi-…” Haechan’s loud laughter cuts your speech off. Entering the room with that woman old enough to be his mother. Pulling them closer to the table filled with coffee, pastries, fruits. Shifting side to side anxiously as they near, stomach bubbling in.. embarrassment? Was it because Mark and Jeno knew?..or could at least assume very well.

“Aw nono, you already changed out of your cute little altar boy get up? Wanted to introduce my girl to my cute innocent little brother. Now you just look like hot topic threw up on you or something.” Haechan pokes at Jeno. Smirk plastered across his face. Jeno’s ‘fuck off’ reply coming in like garbled words.

My girl?! My girl? All of a fucking sudden? Hag. Haechan wasn’t even sparing you a glance. If he was trying to make it clear there was nothing between the two of you- he didn’t need to try much harder. Accepting the situation the best to your abilities or not wasn’t going to stop the rush of tears attempting to streak down your face. A quick spin had you racing out of the church, Jeno’s neck snapping catching sight of your back exiting.

“You’re such a dick Haechan.” Shoving past his older brother, Jeno pushes past a few bodies. Running out of church behind you.

“I didn’t watch the porn because there was a watermelon in it…BUT there was a watermelon in it…” Mark’s eyes lift expecting to see you and Jeno. Too engrossed in his favorite snack. Haechan staring at him dumb founded.

“This is exactly why I don’t believe in God.” Haechan’s head shakes, teeth clicking. Nudging the woman at his side to agree with him. “He’s my distant cousin. Emphasis on distant.”

——————————————————————————-

“Hey! Wait up!” Jeno catches up to you easily. Long legs sprinting out faster than you were moving. Hand wrapping around your arm, revealing your wet tear stained face with a turn. His face instantly falling, chest moving up and down returning to a regular breathing pace.

“It’s ok..” hands lift covering your face. You should be accustomed to this sensation of embarrassment by now. Hunching in, sobbing harder the more it settles in. Humiliating deeper because it wasn’t some secret you could live with. Jeno knew exactly how easily you walked into his brothers trap.

His hands shook, staying still in the air near your head. Internally resisting the immediate urge to comfort you. Arms dropping, hands flopping down by his sides. Lips pursing annoyed he couldn’t bring himself to even touch you. The fact was- you weren’t interested in him. You were another broken girl, crying at his feet over Haechan. Ignoring the stinging pain in his chest, from watching you break down. From knowing why you were in such pain. Who knew either way, Jeno wasn’t going to admit it.

“I can.. take you home..”

His delicate rasp reaches your ears past muffled cries. Pouting, rubbing your palms across wet heated cheeks. Reminding yourself in the back of your mind how you probably looked like shit. The last way you’d prefer for Jeno to see you, not that it mattered.

“Don’t wanna go home..” you sigh into your hands, shoulders shaking trying to control yourself. “Dad’s home..”

Jeno looks around, eyes falling on his bike under a large tree. Shaded from the bright daytime sun. Mouth lifting to one side, he could take you to the diner? The book shop was closed on Sundays to prioritize mass.. or maybe..

“I got a place..” Jeno pulls your wrist. Sad face reveal causing another type of tight clench in his chest. “Come with me.”

Gently leading you toward his bike, unclasping the helmets attached along the back. The memory of riding attached to his back still drawing impure thoughts to your mind. No idea who you even were anymore. Riding around on the back of an attractive boys motorcycle. Losing your virginity in church of all places.

Arms circling around his flat stomach. Jeno smelled nice, clean and fresh. Nothing too strong, your nose tempted to dive in with a deep inhale. Opting to rest your chin on his broad upper back where it dipped down the middle. Not bothering to question where he was going to take you, grateful he even cared.

He cared.

“What is this place?” You cautiously stepped forward. Looking down the ledge of the cliff Jeno had brought you to. Setting the helmets back on the bar attached at the end of his bike.

“I guess I come here to get away.” He shrugs, moving to stand by your side. “Small town, not many places to go. It’s hard when you’ve lived here all your life, everyone thinks they know you..”

“Yea..” guilt gnaws away at your gut. You were no different from everyone else. Like your mother looking at Jeno with preconceived notions, judgement. “It’s hard when you’re the town pastor’s son, I can only imagine..”

“Pft.. cause he’s so innocent. Somehow brain washed everyone into forgetting he cheated, knocked up my mom while still married to Haechan’s..”

“Oh…” scuffing your boots nervously against dirt. Sparing glances Jeno’s way. Chiseled jaw having you ready to swoon like some sad teenager passing her crush in the hallway. Mind so far away distracted, screaming at yourself that Jeno’s trying to have a deep conversation with you. “I didn’t uh…know that about your dad.”

“He just lucked out my mom didn’t tell anyone about the church intern fresh out of high school that she filed divorce papers over..” Jeno says, removing his jacket. Holding it open for you with a questioning look. Your eyes widen, immediately caving in a moment of weakness. Allowing him to drape the material around your shoulders. Fresh scent engulfing your sense of smell.

“You’re really.. nice Jeno. Considering everything, I have to admit I expected you to be more like Haechan..” you express, pulling the jacket around yourself tighter.

“We aren’t that different, growing up together will do that. Someone has to be the scapegoat, unfortunately it’s always me. Typical younger sibling syndrome right?” Jeno rubs his exposed arm, muscle tank revealing bits of tattoo. You nod to his words, unable to picture Jeno and Haechan getting along like two loving brothers.

“Your tattoo… your dad doesn’t know about it right?” You inquire, returning to topic back to Jeno. Ready to forget his brothers existence, at least for the time being.

“Oh yea..he’d probably ship me off to Jerusalem, peace core or some shit.” Jeno laughs, pushing the loose cut off sleeve up. Further exposing the evil creature blaring into your vision.

“Why a demon?”

“Why not right? I lost my faith in religion when my dad kept coming up with new excuses for why his sins were forgiven. God isn’t real anyway.” Jeno finishes. Eyes narrowing, expecting a reaction from you.

“I think you’re right actually..” you nod, softly smiling. Awestruck eyes staring into yours, satisfied. “..I should probably get home. Didn’t even tell my mom I was leaving. She’s gonna be so pissed..”

“Ah yea..can’t have that. She’s pretty intense huh?” Jeno scratches his throat anxiously. The voice in the back of his mind yelling at him to do something now. “..I’ll take you home.”

You take languid drawn out steps together. Tension surging between your bodies like electric shocks. Jeno reaching for his helmet. Fingers hesitating to open the clasp.

“Can I ask you something?” he looks away, teeth digging at his bottom lip. Was that nerves?

“Of course” you promptly respond, bouncing on your toes.

“If Haechan..hadn’t.. I don’t know, gotten to you first..” Jeno cringes. Focusing his eyes on the ground. Ending his curiosity there, struggling with his hope that you’d ever like him.

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrow, moving in, closing the space between your bodies. Jeno’s eyes meet yours, giving away the intent behind his question. “..you..why are you asking? You don’t..”

“It’s nothing, forget it.” Jeno’s head shakes, realization hitting you. Guys like Jeno never gave you the time of day..

“Would you have?” Boldly your hand lands on his, pulling fingers away from the helmet. Still wearing his jacket, could you be more oblivious?

“I wanted to..” those words are all it takes. Pushing up on your toes, lips smashing on his. Fever like heat raising your confidence to go for it. Jeno’s been good to you- the cold demeanor a cover up for how painfully shy you make him.

Hands find your hips, pressing you against the seat of his bike. Ass digging into the warm leather, jacket falling from your shoulders. Jeno kissing you back needy, full of desperation, loud breaths passing through his nose. Finger nails scraping the material of your dress, gathering the fabric up. Skin rubbing on the sun kissed bike under you. He presses in, tongue flicking out, asking for permission to enter. Fisting the cotton shirt on his chest in a wrinkled mess. Mouth parting so fast, too fast. Wet tongues eagerly meeting, rolling against the roof of your mouth.

Jeno’s groans are hot, raspy and deep. Affecting you quickly, sinking back on the bike when his hips roll between your thighs. Hard on tenting angrily in tight jeans. Grinding against your soaking core.

“God I..” Jeno mumbles on your lips, lapping spit across your mouth. His own pouting out cutely, blood tinted lips shining in outdoor light. “I really…whoa..fuck..”

“Jeno..” your arms lift, wrapping around his neck. Bringing your bodies together impossibly close. Pained moan trapped in his throat, thrusting in anguish. Craving to bend you over on his bike, slap your ass and fuck you until you can’t even remember his brothers name.

Jeno’s thumb shoves between your wet mouth, tongue swirling around. Groaning louder with another crushing thrust. Cock screaming for release, working up a faster speed. Demanding movements bouncing you on the bike. Eyes falling shut sucking at his thumb, picturing the length prodding at your walls sitting heavy in your mouth instead. Both of you growing needier with each dry hump against each other. Calves finding Jeno’s hips, lifting yourself up writhing against the hard fabric of his worn jeans.

“You feel so good..fuck..” Jeno captures your upper lip, sucking harshly. Hips growing furious, thigh muscles flexing tightly. Dragging sweet panted moans out of you, thumb opening your mouth. Saliva drooling past both of your lips messily, chins coated in each other.

“Please..” you whimper, pleading. Unsure what you could be begging for. Jeno nods reassuringly, gripping the back of your neck. Hand falling from your mouth, finding space between your legs. Drenched underwear shoved aside, sliding long fingers up and down. Catching your wetness, palm covered, landing loudly on your mound. Jeno finding your clit, pressing down hard. Surprised scream releasing from your chest. Tongue covering your exposed neck, nipping at dips.

“Can I?” Jeno’s fingers prod your opening up entrance. Head nodding rapidly, eyes wide. Gliding past your convulsing walls. Groaned curses repeating from his lips, finding way deep inside of you. Slender pretty hands working you to a heightened pleasure. Jeno continuously licking around your jaw, catching parted lips in bites. Hard enough to leave you a swelling pained mess, lips pursing out asking for more.

He lets your neck go, face dropping, forehead hitting his shoulder. Tattoo coming to life so close up, licking the expanse inked skin. Jeno grits his teeth, whimpering with squeezed eyes. Hand squeezing your hip, fingers jabbing in and out. Thumb circling your clit with expertise, nothing innocent in his touches.

He squirms on your thigh, member begging to fuck you open. Resisting to need for himself, fully focused on getting you off. Enjoying the way your eyes roll, tongue hung out letting your mind succumb to his touches.

Your hips jump up, wriggling into the thrusts of his fingers. Reaching far deep within, hitting every delicious spot. Lips landing together in a bruising sloppy kiss, muffling strained moans. Jeno’s thumb pressing down just right on your clit, precise fingers hitting where you need him in repeated motions. Trembling around him, walls gripping tightly. Jeno’s motions slowing down, letting the climax high wash over you. Softly tracing kisses atop your burning cheeks, staggering down to your neck. Soft nips turning into hard bites, leaving marks of himself behind.

“I..” Jeno’s forehead rolls over yours, skin dragging against his. Nose nudging gently at you, nerves still clouding his sense. Hard breaths landing on your face, eyes finding yours, mind returning back to you. “I want.. I like you.. I need…..I want..to take you out, like…date out...”

You nod a bit too excited, nose hitting his. Jeno’s stressed words making you clench up around his fingers yet again. Another pained groan blended into a sigh sounding around you. “I want that so bad Jeno.. I really want you.”

—————————————————————————-

“What brings you in to confession today?”

“Pastor… what does the bible say about pre-marital sex with two brothers?”

“At the same time?!” Pastor Lee spits out abruptly, gagging on his spit.

“Separately Pastor!” You shriek out. Fingers stopping your lips, wondering if Pastor would recognize your voice. It’s not as if you spent time speaking to each other much..

“Well..” Pastor Lee’s throat clears, adjusting the collar tightening around his neck. “That’s..good to hear. Are you planning to wed one of these men?”

“Wed?! Like marry?” Your forehead creases, thinking it over. It was way too early to even consider such a thing. “I’m not pregnant pastor!”

“That’s…that’s good news my child.” Pastor audibly swallows. Sweat gathering at his hairline. “You..wish to know what the bible has to say about this?

“Am I going to hell if I choose to…have intercourse with both of them? I’ve only slept with one..”

“Only?” The pastor sounds flabbergasted. Gulping down another loud breath of air. “You won’t go to..hell over this. You need to repent for your mistakes none the less. God is good, and forgiving.”

“So, I’m not going to hell right?” Your frazzled tone sounds around the booth. Growing frustrated the longer he skirts around your questions.

“Yes my child, of course God does, but!-…”

“….God forgives all right? Like…God will love and forgive me even if I do happen to…somehow…you know..fornicate with uhm..” you chew on your thumb nail, catching yourself ready to say- ‘your sons’. “..siblings?”

Pastor Lee becomes frantic on the other side of the confessional booth. Fingers quickly turning through thin pages of his bible. Murmuring sounds of ‘uhm’ between, buying extra time to find an explainable excuse for why you absolutely should not do such a thing.

“Now my child.. yes God loves you, of course. I cannot say he would approve of you doing this! What about the brothers bond you could end up destroying?? That would be greed and lust! Those are sins child, sins!” Pastor Lee exasperates. Patting a handkerchief along his sweating forehead. Small towns hardly ever brought him confessions this extreme.

“Pastor, did you not have sex out of wedlock once too?.. more than once! With two different women! Does God approve of that?” You sit up straight. Hand slapping over your mouth after speedily replying. Shit, God probably didn’t care much for this conversation, that’s for damn sure..

“Child of God! now..” the pastor continues, avoiding your accusations. “Are you going to go through with this regardless of what excerpt from the bible I give you?”

“Yes father…I believe so..I really like this guy..” you timidly say. The thought that the pastor could have you in mind making your stomach turn.

“Well then..” with a heavy dissatisfied sigh, Pastor Lee continues. “Twenty hail Marys and Fifty our fathers should do it.”

“Fifty?!” your mouth falls open, disbelief stricken by the idea of sitting here for the next three hours repeating prayers.

“Make that seventy child. Ten for each seven deadly sin.”

You pause for a moment, hand on the door knob ready to exit. Mouth gaped considering asking what the bible says about losing your virginity in church. A minute of contemplation later, you decide it’s best to add another fifty hail Mary’s.

“Thank you so much Pastor Lee!”

——————————————————————————

It felt a little scary, but fun, getting ready for your date with Jeno. Of course you still wanted to leave an impression, even with his confession.

Repeating it in your mind over and over again: A. Date. With. Jeno.

Holy fucking shit. What alternative universe had you stumbled into moving to live here. Maybe the best way to get over someone really was by getting under someone else…younger brother and all. God had to be real if this was how your love life was playing out.

Walking up to Jeno, he was a complete vision. Black messy hair pointing different directions, as if he just ruffled it and said ‘good enough’. Leather jacket all too tight over his defined rippling biceps, like a second skin. Silver chain necklaces shining under the sunset across the orange red sky behind him. Hoops adorning his ears making the sparkle in his eyes come to life. The large steel ball chain necklace catching your eye against his pale thick neck. Imagining him on top of you coated in a sheen of sweat. Cold chains dangling down on your skin..

“Isn’t this… your brothers car?!?” Your eyes nearly bulge out of sockets asking the question. Drawn out of the quick fantasy you’d almost drifted into. The cherry black trans am practically glowing behind Jeno.

“It is, isn’t it..” Jeno’s smile lifts into his eyes. Fingers waving around a set of keys mid-air. “Who do you think Haechan learned how to pick pocket from? Still no match to the king.”

Jeno unlocks the car, opening up the passenger door for you. Surprising you first with his tattoos.. now this. Maybe he wasn’t the innocent cute younger brother you’d perceived him as all this time.

The engine sounded alive, Jeno pulling out of your driveway. Better looking than any heart throb you’d see on some terrible basic cable teen drama. Arm reaching around the space between your bodies. Other stretched in front of him. Long fingers attached to pretty veins flexing around the spinning steering wheel. All he had to do was grab your thigh to set you bursting up in flames. Stealing subtle looks at him picturing the tattoo adorning his perfectly sculpted shoulder.

“Haechan doesn’t know you borrowed his car I’m guessing? Won’t he be mad?” You wonder out loud. Jeno’s smile spreading into his cheeks. Eyes squinting under the low sun coming through the windshield. Relaxed in the drivers seat making way down the empty road. Arm closest to you splaying out, fingers wrapping around your exposed leg. Shivers shooting up your heat from where his large palm covers the majority of your visible mid-thigh.

“That’s the plan.”

Final—>

taglist: @seuomo @unknown5tar @sunoosi @nabi-nono @ahsshilee-me @safariria @nctlover94 @underjeno @nanascupid @jenorenle @scruffiejelly @mel-yjh @winwiniee @count-your-shadows @sunflowerhae @johnjaespeach @nctflix @notsooperfect @skrtbeepbeep @lanadreamie @nctstrawberrycow @meonlightuniverxse @sunshinedhyuck @haechanswhore @n0hyuck @kpopmultiifandomm @d1nne @neobanguniverse @pewpewpwe00 @abitofafan @haechansworld @born5sos @bockhyun @jen0zen @xuyiyangstan @alexameliamg @negincho @na-na-nakita @jeon-jungkook-is-actually-god @xwanna127x @heyitsbreeeeee @melaninjhs @cacaubs @multifandombtvh @kyngaji @whlplazh @eleanorfreakingchan @classic-antifood @sheytanni @player23 @wavetease @nahyuckk @doyoungssouthernbabygirl

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beomglocks · 3 years

Text

happy (very) 'belated' father’s day

summary : the only father willing to come to the dinner

pairing : dilf neighbor!soobin x (legal)!reader x beomgyu (?)

warnings & other: i wrote the day after fathers day, the title is edited bc im posting this like WAY later LOL, threesome (?), degradation, some beomgyu (no incest), sub!beomgyu if you squint like really fucking hard, definitely not a normal relationship, slight exhibitionism, some possessiveness, DON’T read if you’re uncomfortable with age gaps, edit: REwriting this, this one is for the dilf soobin stans, eat up, don't say i don't feed yall, enjoy <3, kind of proofread

w/c : ~4k

you realize it now.

after living side by side with mr. choi soobin and his son, beomgyu, for a couple of weeks, you’ve started to realize something quite interesting.

1. your mother has a liking for tall lean men.

2. she also has a liking for trying to set you up with the tall lean mens’ son.

now, you wouldn't say you're exactly opposed to getting close to beomgyu. he's conventionally attractive and he seems like a nice boy but you're very much more attracted to the one who created him. it made sense after all.

"give these to mr. choi for me?" your mother all but shoves the roses and chocolates in your arms. you look down quizzically at such gifts. "it's not valentine's day.." you trail off.

you have a strange feeling that soobin would be put off by such acts, not seeming to be as out there as your mother. she doesn't care.

"it's fathers day..well it was...yesterday," she shrugs, fixing her bombshell red lipstick. why was she doing herself up? well a certain mr. choi was coming over.

despite the fact that your own father was out of the picture, that didn't stop your mom from wanting to celebrate every holiday in existence. unfortunately, the only willing father in town to partake in your mother's antics was mr. choi.

he liked to rile her up, you notice. soobin liked to toy with your mother's clear affection towards him, just as he did you. he also liked to throw it in your face sometimes. you didn't say what you observed but you knew he liked to make her feel wanted by a much younger, much more handsome man.

without another word, you decide to give the outlandish gifts to your neighbor. you sigh, looking down at the gifts. some assorted chocolates, nice flower arrangements, and what seems to be a sealed note? you want to roll your eyes but a part of you wonders if soobin would really like these kinds of things.

when you get to the door and ring the bell, the door swings open and there's stands the man himself. he's more put together than you at the moment so you feel out of place even at the front step of his house.

"always a pleasant surprise~" he smiles. his eyes trail down to the gifts in your arms. "for me?" his eyes grow wide and his pouty lips, the ones which you suddenly can't stop staring at since they seemed to be stained cherry red, lay slightly agape.

"from my mom," you deadpan, holding the gifts out. "she's generous~" "overbearing," you correct. "we seem to have different views then," he shrugs. "where's my gift from you though? this can't be all," he ponders in faux thought.

you smile shyly, looking down in embarrassment. "what did you get me baby?" he teasingly leans down closer to you to properly see your face. "could it be perhaps-"

before soobin can place a hand on you, beomgyu comes from downstairs. he's looking sharp, which suits him a lot, you admit. his hair is parted, giving you a teasing view of his forehead. regardless of the fact that he's wearing casual clothes, a stark contrast from his father who dawns an all black attire, beomgyu still manages to make it work for him.

"we'll be seeing you at the dinner," soobin clears his throat, noticing your apparent staring at his son. you can tell that he feels off put by your slight attraction to beomgyu. however small or minuscule it may be its still there to him.

the dinner goes almost exactly how you thought it would. soobin and your mother hit it off, talking about whatever they could to distract themselves from their children for a while. to your surprise soobin barely interacts with you. he seems too occupied with entertaining your mom to pay you any mind.

you're not sure why but this bothers you. beomgyu is occupied in the bathroom at the moment so you can't help but glance in their direction every couple of seconds. your mom is currently leaning against soobin's broad shoulder, laughing at something he's previously said. so he’s a comedian.

you watch as he looks down at her with a satisfied smile on his face. you bite the inside on your cheek and as if on cue, soobin looks up in your direction and smirks. it's almost as if he's taunting you. you bite down harder until you taste something metallic in your mouth.

you're not sure where this feeling of jealously is coming from and you know it's not healthy but you can't help it. maybe you've gotten too attached to your older neighbor in these past couple of weeks.

beomgyu comes out of the restroom with a sigh, walking back into the living room where you are. he can feel a weird tension in your general area but decides not to comment on it. suddenly you stand up, catching beomgyu off guard.

"come on beomgyu!" you say loud enough for everyone to hear especially soobin. the man in question practically pauses in speech midway to look over at you and his son. he eyes you both, mainly giving you a glare that will be engraved in your mind but you don't care. he needs a taste of his own medicine.

"come on let's go to my room, i need to show you something~" you urge him along. meanwhile, you say those words while staring straight at soobin. you hear your mom assure him that it's ok, "the kids are doing their own thing." you knew you were being childish and petty but if soobin wanted to fuck around with you this is what he would have to deal with as well.

you drag beomgyu along to your room who seems quite eager to be in this position. all he knows is that there's a weird tension between you and his father but that's as far as his knowledge goes.

when you both arrive at your room you close the door behind you and lean back on it. "is everything alright?" beomgyu hesitantly asks. you sigh, ushering him along to sit on the bed with you. he looks around subtly at all the little items in your room. everything seems to reflect you well, in his opinion. "well.." you try to stall.

you look up at him through your lashes. "you like me right?" beomgyu stares at you with wide eyes, "i-i mean yeah?" he stutters at your boldness.

"then lets try something," you smile at him, casually pulling your shirt over your head. "let's see how long it takes for your dad to come see us in this position," you say to yourself.

soobin doesn't need to be a rocket scientist to know what's going on here. he knows you're being a brat on purpose but he doesn't care because it makes it all the more fun. he will say he's surprised that you're using beomgyu, his own son, to get to him.

at first, he was getting annoyed with how you seemed to take a liking for his son which is why he wanted to rile you up by seeming extra interested in whatever your mom had to say. now, however, he knew he had a plan for that. you were not going to outsmart him, he wouldn't allow it and he would just have to put you in your place.

"excuse me but i need to use your restroom," soobin makes up a bullshit excuse to get to where you are. "oh of course!" your mom nods at him, instructing him towards the one upstairs. perfect.

"ill just finish up the dinner then!" your mother offers. "great that's enough time to put this slut in her place," he thinks. he smiles at your mom heading for upstairs.

"beomgyu you look like you just saw a ghost," you chuckle lightly, looking down at him. "y/n," he groans at the sight of only seeing you in your bra. he reaches up to grab your breasts, fondling them as delicately as possible. "you can be rough," you offer.

without even bothering to knock on the door, soobin opens it to see you both on the bed in a lewd position. you shirtless on top of beomgyu. he sucks his teeth when you both look back in alarm at the door being burst open. "y/n," he chuckles, almost sadistically.

you can already see the look in his eyes and suddenly you feel bad for not only yourself but beomgyu as well. you try to subtly grab your shirt again in shame but soobin's glare stops you. "what do you think you're doing little slut?" he folds his arms over his chest. not even caring that beomgyu is in the room, he walks over to you and grabs your hair causing you to yelp in surprise.

"s-sir.." soobin narrows his eyes at you then they flit over to beomgyu. "sit over there," he motions to the beanbag in the corner of the room. "i want you to learn something from this." without another word, beomgyu scrambles over to the seat, his heart beating in fear and excitement strangely.

you feel heat rising up your neck and to your cheeks as well as your dripping pussy. "don't be embarrassed, im sure this was your plan all along," soobin tsks, shoving your face down into the sheets. you breathe out when he rips the skirt and underwear from your body without a second thought. the racy thong that was supposed to be his surprise for father's day discarded in a second.

"soobin-" a smack to your ass. "that's not my name."

he doesn't even give you a chance to correct yourself, messing with your sticky juices before entering his cold fingers into your hole. you try to stifle your moan by burying your head further into the sheets.

"god you're so wet," soobin comments. he slowly moves his finger in and out for a while, practically torturing you with how meticulous and slow he's being. "please," you whine pathetically. "please what?" he slows his movements to stare at you with a raised eyebrow.

"please f-fuck me, please, i need your cock," you beg shamelessly. beomgyu breathes heavily, trying to forget about his growing boner but not being able to ignore it. he painfully wants to do something about it but he's not sure if he's allowed to touch himself.

he opts for subtly dragging his hand to his clothed crotch and palming himself through his pants, as uncomfortable as it is. in the meantime, soobin rids himself of his own pants, shaking his head.

he lightly smacks your throbbing pussy and you jolt. "do you seriously think you deserve it? fuck, look at you, can’t wait to be fucked like a bitch in heat~" you whine, wiggling your ass wordlessly in his face to hopefully get what you want.

soobin rubs your clit with narrowed eyes, making sure beomgyu is watching. he could care less that beomgyu is touching himself. he drags some of your cum from your hole to your clit and sighs. "alright then.."

he aligns himself with your hole and without another word slips his cock in with ease, completely bottoming out.

you want to scream at how big he is but you're only left with ragged pants as you know you're unable to make any loud noises. it seriously feels like you could be torn apart at any minute but you love the feeling of soobin’s cock filling you out.

"you're so tight seriously," soobin breathes. he can barely move at first. the way his dick fits inside of your pussy perfectly. he almost wants to comment about how you were practically made for him. he's sure if he flips you over right now, he would see the outline of his cock in your womb.

after waiting a bit for you to adjust to his length he finally starts moving. "shit-" he breathes. you have to grip the sheets to stop yourself from yelling. soobin's hands find their way to your waist and when you look to the side just for a split second you can see beomgyu fighting for his life to not moan out loud.

"look beomgyu-" soobin says in between jagged breaths. "if you wanna fuck around with his pathetic slut this is how you treat her." a moan gets caught in your throat when soobin pounds into you at once. "ah- i-" a part of you wants to apologize and is trying to but he won't give you a chance to speak.

"isn't that right my slutpuppy? did you have something to add?" at the sound of the nickname your walls tighten around him and he sends a harsh smack to your ass. "you're enjoying this aren't you?" he rolls his eyes and sighs heavily.

soobin thrusts start getting faster and faster, beomgyu watching with his mouth agape at his father kissing and sucking at your neck to muffle his own moans. beomgyu can only bite his lip and noises from his throat barely pass his lips as he reaches his high.

soobin growls at seeing your eyes focus on beomgyu so he starts slamming his cock into you at an animalistic pace and you think you might break.

beomgyu bucks into his hand as he cums from the sound and sight of skin slapping added with the tiny noises you'd make. not too long after you feel yourself shudder, unable to warn soobin that you had come you squeeze your eyes shut and let out a whine instead.

"fuck- ok baby," soobin understands as soon as your walls squeeze around him. he pants a couple a times and as soon as he reaches his high he pulls out, pumping his cock to let his cum shoot out on your ass.

"s-sir," you moan. "shhh it's ok." soobin sighs heavily, coming down from his own high to tend to your broken state. he looks over at beomgyu, who's head is lulled to the side as he gazes at your sweat and semen covered body.

soobin sucks his teeth deciding not to say anything to the boy and let him chill for a minute. he shrugs his pants back on and carries you in his arms to the nearest bathroom.

you cozy up to his warm embrace, letting out a sigh. "baby we need to clean you off.." you hear him whisper. you almost completely forget that there's a dinner that's supposed to be happening and you cant just go to sleep with soobin like you'd want.

a sudden coldness hits your body and you shiver. "ok," you agree. his cum is already starting to dry on you and you want nothing more than to be cleaned like he offers. you're not sure how you'll explain your change of clothes to your mom but you're sure you'll come up with something later.

no words need to be spoken after what happened and you're glad because you're not sure what to say. soobin doesn't seem keen on talking at the moment either, too focused on cleaning you off, so you decide to stay quiet.

it's silent in the bathroom until you both hear your mother all out. "dinner's ready!"

you chuckle, breaking the silence as soobin looks up at you with a questioning eyebrow. “happy father’s day.”

#soobin smut #soobin x reader #txt smut #txt imagines #txt scenarios #soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #choi soobin smut #txt x reader #smut #drabble #tomorrow x together imagines #soobin reactions #soobin drabble #now.....#i have to cleanse #and think abt my life #i love dilf soobin #rip beomgyu

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

living and reviving II

yep when I said three parts I think I meant 4 oops

summary: an overdue conversation that has to happen - like it or not

warnings: cheating, swearing, pregnancy talk, lots more angst, think thats it?

tomhollandxreader

/////////////////////// prev

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

That had been three weeks ago.

And it still fucking hurt like hell.

It had ended up that Yamna had taken you back to hers, where you had stayed for a couple nights. During that couple of days, Tom had tried. He had tried to apologise, tried to explain, tried to fix things. But it just wasn’t that easy.

Whatever he said, it didn’t take back from the fact that he had in that moment meant it. So no amount of sorrys could ever take that back.

After everyone had realised just how serious their situation was, Tom had moved out of your shared flat - so you could at least be in the place you were comfortable. Afterall the nursery was built in your flat and clearly it was you doing all the baby stuff for the moment. Thankfully Yamna, having been cut loose so without job, offered to move in with you. Which was probably the only thing keeping you going.

Well, that and ben and jerrys ‘phish food’. Honestly the shop must think you’re running some sort of ice cream black market at the rate you’re getting through their tubs.

Everyone kept parroting that it wasn’t good for the baby. Too much ice cream . Too much heavy lifting. Too much stress.

And yes, it probably was. But that was out of your control . The stress and lack of man in the household meant you had to do the heavy lifting of shopping from the car up the stairs. Shopping meaning ice cream, which you only depended on so much because of the stress.

It was a vicious cycle of hell.

Even Yamna, the person you were relying on keeping you sane had started walking on eggshells. It was as though you were literally about to pop, she always had to have at least half an eye on you. You were even banned from locking the toilet door - just in case.

It felt like you were a captive animal, people kept coming to observe you, giving sad looks before gleeing the scene.

You hadn’t been sleeping well either. Of course, being 3 weeks of your due date didn’t help - but neither did the lack of Tom. In fact, for the first time since shit had hit the fan, you had actually been managing to get some decent sleep when Yamna knocked on your bedroom door, quietly calling your name.

“I’m asleep” Groaning, you pulled the covers further over your head, praying to god that she’d leave you alone. But of course that wasn’t happening, she just lightly chuckled before you felt the bed dip - she had perched on the edge… Toms side.

“You never normally sleep talk.”

“I’m never normally this sleep deprived.” She sighed, whilst you still stubbornly kept your eyes closed.

“I’m sorry I woke you…. but this is important.”

“What?” Almost grunting, you threw the covers down looking up at her in anticipation. That was another thing about pregnancy - you were always on high alert, always worried.

“Toms here.”

“Tell him to f off.” Quickly you stopped caring about what your bestmate had to say.

“He’s saying that he’s the little ones dad and that he deserves to be involved and…. and I think I might agree.”

“I deserve a boyfriend who stays loyal to me so clearly neither of us are getting what we want.” You weren’t angry at Yamna and snapping at her wasn’t the answer. And yet you still did it.

“Y/n….I love you and I am completely on your side. I just think that maybe, perhaps, you should at least manage to be civil before baby arrives. Otherwise… thats going to be a lot to deal with all at once.”

It was your turn to sigh, deep and heavy (or at least as deep as the baby let). Most infuriatingly she was right. The conversation had to happen at some point. With a baby there too it would only be even more traumatic.

“He’s here now?” It only dawned on you how broken you actually sounded when the words croaked out of you.

“Yeh hunny… I didn’t let him inside so he’s standing outside the door looking like a dickhead right now.” The image cheered you up a little, enough to sit up in bed and be wrapped in Yamna’s arms. Her actions said it all, she really only meant the best for you and knew how hard this would be. After a moment she leant back. “I almost considered calling the paps so they could get a picture and label him as a groveling dick.”

“You should of.” Of course you didn’t mean it, but the answer had you both laughing. It took a minute to calm down before she changed subject slightly.

“You want me to make myself scarce? I can hide in my room or go to the shops or-“

“Text the guy from the bar - you deserve a night off ‘babysitting Y/n’ duties.”

“I’m not babys-“

“Yes you are. Go out with him and have some fun, I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeh”

That was a bare face lie - but Yamna had been almost too good to you. She really really needed a break. Especially as the current plan was she’d be helping with the newborn too. Right now you wouldn’t have wished a baby on yourself - never mind your best mate.

“Okay, get ready then babe - but do it slowly, leave him waiting outside in the cold for as long as possible.”

“Obviously.” You laughed, hauling yourself out of bed, where she gave you one more encouraging hug before leaving.

After hearing Yamna leave, and brushing your hair and throwing on a new pair of trakkies and hoodie, you slowly walked towards the door. It felt as though impending doom were on the other side and every fibre of you wanted to scream and run the other way. But it just had to happen at some point. Why not now?

With a final sharp exhale, attempting to pull yourself together, you opened the door. Immediately your heart sank, seeing nothing. Had you really been that long? And even so, was a 10 minute wait enough for him to give up? You could already feel the hormonal pregnancy tears starting to spring, when a grunt drew your attention.

What you hadn’t considered was the fact Tom was ready to camp out, sitting on the floor beside your door. Springing to his feet, he seemed shocked you’d actually opened the door - makes two of you. When Yamna left she had told him you were coming, but seeing really is believing.

“Y/n! I-I… I wasn’t sure you were ever going to answer.”

“You and me both.” You replied dryly, still leaning on the door. “Do you er…. do you want to come in?” Again he seemed shocked, as though he wasn’t sure you meant it.

“Is that-that okay?” Shrugging you just nodded, stepping back so he could get in. He did pay half the mortgage afterall.

“You want a drink?” He quickly declined your offer, not vocally but instead rushing past you to the kitchen and turning the kettle on himself.

“Your the pregnant one. Go chill on the sofa, I’ll bring you a cuppa.”

And a bit taken a back by his forcefulness you followed instructions, from the sofa watching how effortlessly he danced round the kitchen. It wasn’t shocking, it was technically his kitchen too. But seeing him there felt so alien, almost transporting you back to much much simpler times. Seemed a lifetime ago.

After a couple of minutes, he rounded the sofa with a hot chocolate in one hand for you (because caffiene is bad for the baby) and a cup of Yorkshire tea in the other.

“So… how have you been?”

“Ate a lot of ben and jerrys” You answered without really answering, except he knew you all too well.

“That bad?” He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his brow “how about the baby?”

“I don’t tend to carry an ultrasound on me but she’s been keeping me up all night kicking - so normal I guess.”

“Thats good” He spoke before realising what he said. “Sorry no I um-I don’t mean it like that!” You all but laughed in the face of his flusteredness, only making the tips of his ears go pinker.

“I assume you had something to say and that you came here for a reason rather than just pity me?”

“I want to make things right Y/n - I-I mean your having my kid.”

“OUR kid”

“ Exactly! And-and I love you too and-“

“Bullshit” You may have murmured it under your breath but you had intended for him to hear.

“Oh come one Y/n, you know that!”

It was like the man was asking to be yelled at.

“Don’t sit there trying to patronise me! I THOUGHT i knew it but then I saw you all over another girl. So yes, I’m calling bullshit.”

“Ugh I… If your not going to even try to hear me out then…”

“Then what Tom? You gonna kick me out. I mean this is your flat after all! Maybe you’d like to dump the mother of your unborn child homeless on the street and forget about us - how’d that sound? I’m sure your fans would blindly applaud you.”

“Listen! Please would you just listen to me.” His voice was loud and tone harsh, making you flinch a little. Not because you were ever worried he’d hurt you - but how this wave of uncomfort shuddered through your body, baby even squirming in discontent. So focused on that you just nodded, shifting back into the sofa.

Tom had noticed your reaction and seeing you seemingly scared of him like that, well it broke his heart. Even more.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to shout, I just…. I really need to try and fix this.” He leaned closer, letting out a thankful breath when you just nodded, as if to say go on.

“I’ve really really missed you… these past couple of weeks I’ve never felt so gulity in my life. Not because of what I did! Well yeh that but-but more how much it hurt you and-“

“Fuck.”

You couldn’t help but let out that little curse of pain as a new wave of pain, which seemed to originate from your lower back, shuddered through you. Tom looked up from where his eyes had been nervously wringing his palms whilst he spoke. Rubbing a hand over your belly you shook your head and motioned for him to continue.

She was just kicking really really hard. Right?

“Uhm yeh so I just wanted to properly tell you everything that happened that night so at least we are on the same page? A-And I’m not going to try and use this an excuse but I had been drinking so-“

Seemingly baby disliked the end of that sentence too, causing another rippling wave to echo through your body, feeling as though a band was pressing tightly round your stomach. With another small curse it forced you to stand up, in the hope that’d ease her. Clearly she was as done with his shit as you were.

“Need a water.” You muttered, already waddling to the kitchen, where you heard Tom follow you immediately - like an inpatient dog.

“Y/n sit down I can-“

He was silenced by you freezing and grabbing his arm tightly - a physical contact he hadn’t been expecting from you.

“Tom… get your phone.” You spoke slowly, still not having dared to have moved an inch - fingers almost white from how tightly you were squeezing his forearm.

“Wha-are you-are you okay?”

“I think my waters just broke. Get the phone. Now.”

~~~ feedback is really appreciated + would love to know what u think as still in the process of writing so can be guided / helped by asks !!! ~~~

taglist: @maraudersandco @@minejungwoo @sippin-on-tea @thegirlintheswivelchair @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @arctic-monkcys @ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol @marvelsbitch8 @peterr-parkourr @lizzyclifford13-blog @user1683 @elishi03

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom x reader #peter parkqueue #tom holland oneshot #tom holland x reader #tomholland #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x pregnant!reader #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland fluff

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

smoke and mirrors

⇢ richkid!tom x richkid!reader ⇠

w/c: 4.1k

warnings: swearing, drinking, light angst, and implied smut

summary: because of your mother’s insistence on a pristine family image and tom’s messy one, you deny your true feelings for him

a/n: ok ok ok the pics of tom in monaco really made me think and i had to get everything out of my system so here we are! thank you and enjoy x

your living room is engulfed by a hushed chatter that comes from far too many guests. half the people, you hardly know. it’s overcrowded, superficial, and the last place you want to be. it’s one of your mother’s get-togethers, as she likes to call them. these things are always far from the casual affairs they sound like.

weeks go into planning, caterers and decorators making themselves at home in yours. the family’s image is everything to your mom, so being a good hostess is her top priority. ironically, she’s more concerned with throwing her gatherings than raising you. so much for family, huh?

the only reason you agreed to make an appearance tonight is that tom might do the same. he’s a really good friend, someone you’ve been able to count on through all the mess that is your lives. you met in high school, when he moved from london to the states. his dad was offered a job promotion he couldn’t pass up. plus, tom and his brothers would be receiving a stellar private education here in america.

it was a win for everyone, especially you. the freckle faced boy who got lost on his way to english class became your closest confidant. tom’s company is such a sweet escape. he’s not interested in opera or the stock market like most people you meet are. he sneaks you out to go on walks at dawn and does shots with you until you can’t stand straight.

as you two continue to grow together, revelations about yourselves have come to light. what you want beyond your inheritances, who you want beyond friendship. you figured out the second part on a faithful night recently. tom showed up to your place with a bottle of tequila. after you drank it down through lots of lime chasers and giggles, he kissed you. you didn’t kiss back.

your heart said to go for it, but your mind pulled you back in. you were so shocked and overcome with new feelings, you froze up. that, and you’d infuriate your mother. although she cares about tom a great deal, she loathes his public figure. he’s always getting papped in places and with people he shouldn’t be. the two of you together would just destroy her.

you still want to please your mom at the end of the day, no matter how deep under your skin she gets.

tom immediately apologized and tried play it off as him being drunk. you grew up with him, became part of each other’s families, which means you know him well enough to know he was lying. he meant every second his lips were on yours.

what you need to do now is something you’ve meant to for a while. the only problem is that you’re stuck at your mother’s party, and tom hasn’t shown up yet.

“y/n, darling,” your mom calls for your attention. she’s dragged you into a conversation with some bloggers, but you haven’t spoken a word. “why don’t you tell us about your trip to spain last summer?” she plasters on her award winning grin and squeezes your shoulder. it’s time to play along.

“oh, it was beautiful,” you halfheartedly reply, more to the bloggers than her. they nod in clear interest. one jots down notes. “we went for a few weeks and visited a bunch of different cities. i’d love to go back sometime.” the typical press formatted answer earns your mom’s approval. you’re off the hook. your eyes start to wander around the room, hoping to set on tom.

“we?” the woman taking notes asks. must everyone pry? “my friend and i,” you shortly reply. you’re standing up on your tiptoes to see over the crowd. you’d think six inch heels would do the trick. “i’m actually looking for him right now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you offer a polite smile and silently pray they won’t ask who. unfortunately, your wishes don’t come true.

the other blogger, a short and stubborn man, speaks up. “just a friend you say? come on, tell us. who’s the lucky fella?” he inquires. your mother raises a firm eyebrow, signaling for you not to.

tom has a reputation for his reckless behavior. it’s your mom’s worst nightmare when the media associates your names under most circumstances. you’re representing her, so she does whatever she can to control how you’re seen. you’re constantly in the papers, being a young socialite and all. it sucks.

“he’d like to stay out of the tabloids, sorry,” you cover for tom, on your mom’s behalf. “i should really go. it was nice meeting you.” the bloggers don’t bother to hide their disappointment as you shake their hands. your mother rubs your back in approval. “thank you for doing that. we’ll talk later,” she speaks lowly. “bye, mom!” you practically make a run for it.

weaving through the sea of people, you end up by the main entrance. it’s hard not to get lost even though it’s your house. the place is packed with girls just a couple years older than you, wearing pearls around their necks. men’s strong colognes flow through the air. you’re in a form fitting red slip dress and louboutins yourself.

smoke and mirrors is what they call it. you show the pretty parts to distract from your ugly ones.

harrison suddenly comes waltzing in with a lady on either of his arms. you’d expect nothing less. he’s tom’s best friend besides you, considering the failed kiss attempt didn’t change that. their parents worked at the london branch of the same company. they each came to the states and met you. you happily introduced them to your world, helping to make it theirs as well.

“haz!” you meet him at the front door. he’s smirking while he leads the women inside. “fancy seeing you here, isn’t it?” he jokes. “very funny. i died laughing,” you deadpan, curiously eyeing harrison’s plus two. they merely giggle. “listen, have you seen tom anywhere? if he’s coming.” you’re fighting back a frown. “why wouldn’t he be?” harrison questions in a more serious tone this time.

“long story. you have guests to entertain, so i won’t get into it now,” you decide and manage a small smile instead. he perks up. “right. i’ll let you know if i see him?” nodding, you give him a wave goodbye. “enjoy yourself.” “you too, love. cheers!” the girls lean into him, harrison wiggling his eyebrows at you. he’s ridiculous.

hours pass by without word of tom. it isn’t like him to miss an event, especially if you’re in attendance. you despise these exhausting nights, and he’s supposed to be your rock during them. he should have his arm draped around your shoulders, whispering silly remarks to you while you hide out somewhere. you miss him more than you thought possible.

you’re just about to give up when you spot nikki ushering her husband inside. behind them follows tom, clad in a grey checkered suit with his locks perfectly tousled. he’s here. you waited the whole night, and he finally came.

tom kisses his mom on the cheek before strutting over to the drink table, not without a few reporters hassling him. they’re probably looking for another holland scandal to break. he declines their requests for comments on this and opinions on that, instead pulling up a chair next to harrison. the two exchange hugs and fix themselves glasses of champagne, you watching their encounter.

harrison fills tom in on the drama he’s missed tonight while they sip their drinks. tom keeps forcing smiles that don’t reach his eyes. he’s fiddling with his fingers, leg bouncing up and down steadily. those are the telltale signs he needs saving. however awkward it may be, you’re going to have to break your silence. it was bound to happen eventually.

“mate, i’m telling you. she fit her entire first right up her-“ “boys,” you cut into harrison’s story, greeting him and tom. his face tints deep pink upon your arrival. “don’t let me stop you. finish your charming anecdote,” you encourage him and subtly glance over at tom. he’s biting back a grin as he sets his elbows on the table.

“not with a lady present. let’s just… pretend you didn’t hear that,” harrison chuckles nervously and hops to his feet. “i’m gonna leave you two to chat.” humming, you move to take his chair. tom sucks in a breath. “what happened to the girls you brought?” you wonder. “they left. said they got bored,” harrison admits, tom stifling laughter. he elbows his friend for that.

“oh, fuck off. i’ll see you later,” he mopes, flicking your arm for good measure. tom salutes him and grabs his nearly empty champagne. “so long, bruv.”

it’s just you and tom now, seated side by side, silently so. he has no intentions of speaking first. he’s too embarrassed, and you don’t blame him. this is on you. you clear your throat before starting the conversation.

“can i top you off?” you tap the bottom of his glass with a tiny smile. tom shakes his head. “i’m alright, thanks.” he finishes the last sip and sets it down, turning to face you. your smile has vanished. “wasn’t sure you were gonna make it. i’m glad you did,” you change the subject. as if he’s considering the sincerity behind your words, tom furrows his eyebrows.

“mum wanted us to. she dragged me and dad straight off the golf course,” he explains and clasps his hands in his lap. his fingers interlock with each other. you fight off the urge to replace them with yours. “we would’ve been here sooner, but the paps are camped outside.” the hint of a smile forms on his lips, at last. “guess it’s not often you get the town’s finest under one roof.”

“you think i’m one of the town’s finest?” you tease, resting your chin in your palm. something flashes behind tom’s eyes. he looks right into yours, scooting closer. “absolutely. you’re the most eligible bachelorette in this whole building.” you allow a toothy grin to spread across your face. “tommy, stop it. you’re too nice to me.”

the nickname is music to his ears. tom looks you up and down, licking his lips simultaneously. “no, seriously. you look gorgeous,” he muses, you pushing at his chest. he exhales a breathy laugh, and you giggle yourself. “red’s definitely your color.” “reverse card. you wear it way better than i do,” you insist. your fingers tug at the collar of his suit. “too bad you didn’t match me.”

you’re relieved you two can talk like you usually do, light flirting and good vibes. it might not be so hard to put the kiss behind you. well, you can’t go on pretending it didn’t happen. you have to at least discuss the fiasco. tom should know why you didn’t reciprocate, then you can take it from there. whether he still has feelings for you, assuming he ever did, will depend on how that turns out.

“not to ruin the fun, but we still have to talk,” you murmur, tom’s body stiffening across from yours. he’s not sure he’s ready to discuss that. “can it wait? we’re at a party,” tom reminds you, running a hand through his styled locks. “yeah, my mother’s. don’t tell me you’re having a good time,” you playfully chastise him. he simply shrugs. “hardly. you’re the best part.”

you ignore the butterflies roaming about your body.

“you won’t mind a quick convo, then. it is with me,” you attempt to persuade him and place a hand on his knee. tom coughs a bit too loudly, the contact surprising him. “you know what? i think i’ll take you up on that drink first,” he decides with a mustered up smile. “coming right up.” you pat his leg before taking his glass. he chews on his lower lip while you poor the bubbling liquid. that was certainly… odd.

you slide tom his champagne back with an exaggerated wink. tom scoffs at this. “mm, thanks. care to join me?” he brings the alcohol to his lips, eyes never leaving yours. your mother specifically said no drinking tonight, since the press would be here. screw your mother, though. “please. could you hand me a glass?” you eagerly grab the champagne bottle. tom searches for an empty cup next to him.

you two are unspoken drinking buddies at this point.

“here you are, darling,” tom drawls, holding out the glass for you. every time he calls you that, you completely melt. “thanks, tommy,” you purr in response. you’re finally pouring your own drink when someone taps you on the shoulder, and hard. you look behind you to find your mother standing with her hands on her hips, less than thrilled. speak of the devil.

“hello, mother. can i help you?” you make sure to ask rudely. she responds with a smile that’s obviously fake. if tom weren’t here, you’d be getting scolded. “yes, my darling. those bloggers from earlier were hoping you’d finish your interview.” your mom shakes your shoulder in a motherly way. you squint up at her. “didn’t they leave hours ago-“ “they’re back,” she sharply informs you.

she’s lying, and you have a hunch as to why.

frowning, you hold tom’s hand in both of yours. “sorry, this won’t take long. why don’t you go find tuwaine?” you suggest instead. “he’s around here somewhere.” tom gives you an understanding nod and laces your fingers together, even if it’s only for a moment. “must be chatting up some producers or whatnot. i’ll see if i can help.” he’s such an incredible friend to everyone. he deserves the same from you.

“thomas, so lovely to see you,” your mom interrupts. tom stands up, kissing both her cheeks out of courtesy. “you, too. what a wonderful party. thank you for having us.” despite what the rest of the world believes, his manners are impeccable. “of course. give nikki my best, will you?” your mom puts her hands on his shoulders. he grins at her. “definitely. take care, mrs. y/l/n.” “always a pleasure,” she states, nudging you to come along with her.

you shoot tom one last apologetic look as your mother pulls you along and towards the crowd.

tom is no idiot. he’s well aware how she really feels about him.

when a swarm of guests is surrounding you, your mom lets go. you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. “why would you do that? i haven’t seen tom in days.” she sighs without a care. “isn’t it time you branch out? expand your social circle?” her manicured fingers ruffle your hair. you push away her touch. “i’m social enough. we were in the middle of something really important.”

you begin to walk away, but your mother takes your arm. “whatever you’re about to do, it’s a mistake. he’ll make a fool of you,” she practically spits. yanking your arm from her grasp, you laugh bitterly. “of me, or of the family name? look around, mom.” you gesture to the spot beside her where your dad should be. “as far as i’m concerned, i have no family except tom. i’m gonna go check on him.”

you’re gone before your mom can stop you. she simply stands there, utterly mortified by what you said.

you run around the house to find tom, stumbling in your heels and not giving a fuck. you’d truly meant the part about him being your family. all the holland’s, honestly. they’re the most genuine and caring souls, and you don’t want to lose the one you’re closest to because of your mother’s delusions.

tom is in a circle with harrison and tuwaine, the three of them chuckling amongst themselves. you’d hate to bug him, but this can’t wait anymore.

“uh, tom?” you mumble his name, appearing behind him. he steps away with another quiet laugh. “hey, y/n/n. that was quick, hm?” your face gives away your distress. his whole demeanor shifting, tom reaches for your hands. “what is it, love? is something the matter?” “just… come with me,” you croak out.

you manage to smile at harrison and tuwaine, dropping one of tom’s hands so you can lead him upstairs. they each return the smile and share curious looks.

following behind you, tom keeps your hand tight in his own. he’d thought you were going to grill him about the kiss that barely happened. it seems like this is a much more pressing matter. his outburst of emotions can be discussed another time. now, it’s time to deal with yours.

you drag tom into the first room on the second floor, which is your dad’s study. he’s away on business this weekend, so he luckily couldn’t make the party. tom sits down in the office chair. you sit up on the desk, in front of him. your lip quivers the second his worried features come into view.

“y/n/n, what’s going on? why are we in here?” tom wonders, his tone soft. your heart clenches. “i- i wanted us to have some privacy when i told you this,” you sniffle out and blink back the tears forming. you’re sort of shaken from the conversation with your mother, and mostly because you have no idea how tom will react to your confession.

his hands come to stay on your thighs, right below your dress. they feel warm against your bare skin.

“tell me what? i’m listening, yeah?” tom gazes up at you with so much love. “lay it all out for me.” god, he’s fucking amazing. if only you knew where to start. “do you, um…” you trail off, letting your tears subside and words settle. “do you remember when your family made your big debut in town?”

a grin replaces tom’s frown, painting his beautiful face. “how could i forget? you made it quite memorable.” he traces circles on your thigh and elicits a giggle from you. “i spilled a whole thing of soda on your white fucking button down,” you recount with a lighthearted sigh. “right before your dad was supposed to introduce you to everyone, too.”

tom presses his tongue into his cheek to hold back another grin. “took ages to get it out. dad went mad when i didn’t show.” he cocks his head to the side, you leaning back on your hands. “you held me hostage in the laundry room so you could do that bloody stain stick.” your mouth drops open in mock offense. “i had to clean up my mess! i wasn’t gonna let the world meet you covered in pepsi.”

that was one of your earliest memories together. the holland’s threw a party and invited everyone who was willing to attend. they had been hoping to properly introduce themselves to the town, and this was their way of doing so. although yours and tom’s friendship was fairly new, you spent all night together because you had experience with such events.

tom’s dad was making a speech to thank the guests for coming. you and him listened from the snack table, until his name was called. he rushed to go up there while you were pouring yourself a drink. he’d bumped into you, and the bottle ended up all over him. you snuck tom right off to his laundry room.

you’d felt terrible as he stood there shirtless and blushing, you aggressively swiping his button down with a stain stick.

“why do you bring that up?” tom questions and continues circling your skin. you purse your lips. “i dunno. it was the last party i actually enjoyed,” you admit, putting your hand over his that rests on your thigh. “like to reminisce when i’m suffering through one of my mother’s.” his eyes shift to where your hands are laced. “i see,” he affirms. “so, is that… all you wanted to talk about?” “not even close,” you laugh out.

a burst of courage coursing through your body, you say it. “when you kissed me the other night-“ “i won’t do it again,” tom cuts in, trying to avoid the rejection he thinks you’ll give him. “it was a mistake, and i’m so sorry. our friendship is more important than my feelings.” you seem excited to hear that, though it’s not for the reason tom expects. “you do have feelings for me?”

he’d forgotten about his i was drunk excuse.

“um, yeah. i do,” he admits, cheeks rosy and lip caught in his teeth. “but, i’ll learn to put them aside, if that’s what’s best.” “no, no. it isn’t,” you dismiss him and put your free hand on his chest. “i love you, tom. that’s what i was really trying to tell you.” your words bring an instant grin to his face. he chuckles in disbelief, standing from the chair.

“fuck, thank god. that’s all i’ve ever wanted to hear.” he’s between your legs now, his hands moving up to your hips. you’re beaming at him as your arms snake around his neck. a burning question comes to tom’s mind. “hang on. why didn’t you kiss me back, then?” he almost whispers, thumb brushing over your hipbone. “this is gonna sound weird, but… my mom,” you reluctantly let out.

“you’re gonna have to elaborate,” tom prompts you and raises an eyebrow. you can’t hold back your eye roll. “she’s never been a fan of the person you are in the media.” his lips form a line. “i gathered.” your fingers tangle in his curls at the nape of his neck reassuringly. “i was subconsciously scared i would be letting her down in some way, if we were together.”

tom allows your hands to work their way up to his scalp. he exhales contentedly as you play with his ever so soft hair. “i understand, she’s intimidating. what’s changed that brilliant mind of yours about coming clean?” your nose scrunches up when he pokes one of your temples. “oh, yeah. i yelled at her earlier ‘cuz she stole me away from you.” his face lights up. “sexy.” “shut up,” you groan. “someone had to tell her off.”

“good thing it got to be you,” tom agrees with a squeeze at your hip. “‘m proud of you, y/n/n. it’s not easy, standing up to mummy dearest.” you tug on his hair. “like you’d know. nikki is a saint.” “that’s what she’ll have you believe,” he says under his breath, you gasping. his lips turn up in a smirk. “on that note… i love you, too.”

“would’ve been embarrassing if you didn’t say it back,” you acknowledge with a cheesy smile. tom dips his head down to rest his forehead against yours. “yeah, yeah. save the attitude for your mum.” your legs easily wrap around his waist, tom’s breath hot as it hits your face. “let’s give that kiss another go,” you mewl. he doesn’t hesitate to reply. “with pleasure.”

tom’s lips land on yours, you kissing back right away. he smiles into it as your lips gently move together. “about fucking time,” he grumbles, your hands situating in his chocolate curls once again. he’s savoring every second you touch him, kiss him, love him. the taste of your mouth is one he’s craved for longer than you could imagine.

it doesn’t take long for things to heat up, you messing with tom’s hair and tom rubbing your hips. you lay back on the desk as his tongue enters your mouth. holding you by your waist, tom hovers over you. his tongue tangles with yours in a deep kiss. between that and his fingers beginning to massage your thigh, you’re done for. you’re ready to take this a step further by the time he’s kissing down your neck.

“tommy?” you grab onto his shoulders, your head back. his lips detach from your skin with a grin. “yeah, love? ‘s everything okay?” he coos, pressing a final kiss to your collarbone. “more than.” you tilt his chin up to peck his lips. “you wouldn’t happen to have a condom, would you? just thinking ahead.” he laughs breathlessly, reaching into his suit pocket.

“conveniently enough, i do. not sure your dad would like me fucking you on his desk, though.” tom sets his hand on your leg that’s still hooked around his waist. “my room’s always available. carry me?” you make grabby hands and bat your lashes. he hoists you up by your waist, not lifting you just yet. “that would break the news of us, no? your mum’s gonna go apeshit.” he keeps his arms around you, chuckling.

“let her. besides, i know a couple of bloggers that would love to announce our status update.” you peck tom’s lips, grinning as you do. you’re suddenly in the air and being picked up by tom. the surprise of it makes you squeal, clutching onto his broad shoulders instinctively. he gives you the look of adoration that’s reserved for you only.

“we’ll go pop a few bottles with everyone, then we’re celebrating on our own.”

#tom holland #richkid!tom #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you

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unfoundhoney · 3 years

Text

gen z dickwad ↠

↠ jschlatt x male!reader , ted nivison x younger brother!reader ; fluff ; requested one two

↠ masterlist

You’ve been up for maybe twenty minutes when Schlatt finally wakes up beside you. You can tell he’s awake by the way he rolls clumsily towards you and shoves his face into your stomach.

“Morning, sunshine,” you greet him.

You get a groan muffled in your stomach in response.

“Big mood.”

Schlatt lifts his head up, “You talk like someone in gen z.”

“I am gen z.”

“Disgusting.”

You laugh and push Schlatt’s hair out of his face for him, “You know you’re also gen z.”

“I don’t claim them.”

“So, everyone in the world from age twenty four to six you don’t claim to be a part of?”

“I’m a forty-year-old from Kansas.”

“Oh.”

“You’re okay with that, right?”

“Let me think.”

You tilt your head to the side, pretending to consider the reality in which you’re dating a Kansan twice your age.

“Nope, too weird,” you decide, “I’m breaking up with you.”

You try to climb out of bed but Schlatt holds you back. Using his remaining grogginess against him, you’re able to pull yourself from his grip and evade his attempt to grab you again. You start to leave the bedroom.

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t still love me if I was a middle-aged man from Kansas?”

“Yes,” you call over your shoulder.

You continue out of the room and into the kitchen where you start the coffee pot. When you return to your bedroom, Schlatt is sat up and checking his phone. After you get ready, he’s gone from the room. You find him on the couch in the living room with a cup of coffee; you make your own and join him.

“Um, excuse me,” Schlatt protests, “This couch is for loyal boyfriends only.”

“Do you want me to pull up the Schlinx videos? Because I will.”

“...touché.”

“Mhm.”

You check your phone for anything important as the news plays on the TV; the current story is something about a soup kitchen that’s got an influx of volunteers recently.

“When’s big brother picking you up?” Schlatt asks during the commercial break.

“Eleven.”

“I’m depending on you to not let Ted sully my good name to your mother before dinner later.”

“Maybe if you didn’t do anything that would ‘sully your good name’ we wouldn’t have that problem.”

“If that’s who I was, I’d be a completely different person.”

You hum in agreement.

“And we wouldn’t want that.”

You don’t respond this time, anxieties about your dinner later tonight numbing your mind to anything else. Your mother is in town for the first time since you and Schlatt got together. You had been “talking” when she visited last, but that’s hardly meet-the-parents worthy.

Now, however, you’ve been dating Schlatt for about six months and have been living together for a few weeks. You two are in this for the long run and your mother’s approval is very important to you.

“Babe, you good?”

Schlatt’s voice is softer than normal in his “I’m being genuine” way, a tone of voice saved almost exclusively for you. He’s looking at you with mild concern which is likely a result of your silence and possible ignoring of something he said previous.

“Yeah,” you lie too quickly.

He gives you a look.

“I am very very nervous about you meeting my mom,” you immediately concede.

“Y/N-“

“And I know- I know her approval or blessing or whatever isn’t going to be a deal breaker but I just really care about what she thinks. She’s always supported me. Like, as a son and a person. When dad wanted space from me when I came out, she convinced him to let me stay. She is so so important to me. What she thinks is important to me.”

Schlatt is quiet as you talk, listening intently and waiting for you to finish.

“And I love you. I really really do. I don’t want you to change; I love who you are. It’s just that my family’s really protective of me and you’re kind of... you. ...y’know?”

“I know.”

“Especially when it comes to first impressions. I just-... I want her to give you a chance.”

Schlatt remains quiet after you’ve said your piece for several moments, thinking of how best to respond.

“Don’t you think, for you, she would? Give me a chance?”

You look over at him, having looked away during your anxious monologue.

“I haven’t met much of your family yet,” Schlatt says. “But I do know Ted. And I know he adores you, as much as he bullies you. And even though you’re a child of satan over half the time, the entirety of the internet adores you just as much. If that’s any indication, I think that no matter how much of a dickwad I come off as at first, your mom will wait to actually get to know me before passing verdict. Because you’re her darling baby boy.”

“May I request you try to come off as little of a dickwad as possible?”

“I don’t know if that’s in my vocabulary.”

“That’s doesn’t make sense.”

“Doesn’t it?”

You blink at him confusedly, “...n-no?”

Schlatt laughs and you chuckle, knowing he only meant to confuse you.

There’s a knock at the door. A glance at your phone tells you you missed Ted’s “I’m headed up, please don’t be naked” text. You stand to get the door, but Schlatt calls you back. He stands and looks at you.

“Even if your mom doesn’t love me immediately, which is highly unlikely-“

“Eh...”

“It’s highly unlikely but in that case, she loves you. Your word- and hopefully Ted’s, too, unless he’s being a bitch- should mean more than my... ahem, brutish personality.”

“I like to think of it as a persona.”

“Nah, I’m just built different.”

“Sorry, what was that about not being gen z?”

Schlatt moves to make a run for it, “Boys, we’ve been made.”

You laugh and grab his hand to keep him from running. He comes back to stand in front of you. He cups your face.

“If it makes you feel better, I will try to be on my best behavior tonight.”

“Thank you.”

“I don’t know how little of a dickwad that will make me, but...”

“Hopefully, one day, she will eventually come to love you, dickwad-ness and all.”

Schlatt laughs, “One day.”

He kisses you.

There’s another knock at the door, louder this time.

Schlatt nudges you towards the door, “Alright, go have brunch before your brother breaks in and accuses me of murdering you again.”

You hesitate, “What do you mean again?”

“...Have a good brunch!”

Schlatt quickly retreats into your bedroom and you roll your eyes, continuing toward the door.

“I’ll see you later. Love you!”

“Love you, too!” Schlatt yells back from the bedroom.

You open the door and there stands your brother, Ted.

“What took so long?” he asks, stepping inside so you can put your shoes on.

“What happened to greeting your brother?” you counter.

“Is that you avoiding telling me you were sucking Schlatt’s dick?”

“If you must know, we were having a very deep and meaningful conversation,” you say, standing from tying your shoes.

As you grab a jacket, Ted says, “...is that code for giving head?”

“Y’know, with how often you mention sucking dick, someone might think you’re the gay brother and not me.”

Ted grabs the back of your head and shoves you forward playfully, “Shut up.”

You laugh and step out of the apartment, head down to street level where Ted has parked his car. Waiting for you in the passenger seat, is your mom, who opens the door and gets out upon seeing you.

“N/N!” she greets you happily, immediately pulling you into a hug.

The three of you are soon off to the diner you’d picked out for brunch, worries about Schlatt meeting your mother quelled for now as you focus on spending time with your family. You can deal with your dickwad of a boyfriend later.

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