#but . I’ve just been walking around today with like cartoon hearts swirling around my head :>

[l-cereta]

Like… idk it’s going to my head a bit but like. Being desired—more than that, being cared for and wanted—is actually a kind of crazy feeling. I never really grasped that I don’t think… the way someone looks at you? And we don’t love each other, she’s graduating in a week & it’s fine but just the way she kissed me made me feel so much better about myself & my ability to be desired than any actual sex I’ve had

[cornacopicimagines]

best of friends │t.h

pairing: single dad!mob!tom holland x single mum!reader

words: 9k (oh god, i’m so sorry)

warnings: SMUT, swearing, praise kink, oral (female recieving), slight violence, mentions of verbal abuse/ degration & rough sex if you squint

summary:  Theo y/l/n and James Holland are the best friends that only 8-year-olds can get, their parents though are a little less happy with their lives. For James' dad; Mob-King Tom, he can't seem to catch cupid's arrow. Better yet, he refused to even let the stupid cherub let it fly free. For Theo's mum; y/n, it's her confidence that shakes her love life until there's nothing there. So it was meant to be.

a/n: at first i hated this fic (i still sort of hate the first part) but i think it’s really grown on me :)

masterlist

part 2

━━★✼☆｡

y/n smiled as she waved off the last group of kids, the small children giving her tight hugs before running off to their parents. She truly loved her job; she couldn't ask for anything other than the life she has right now but something has always been devoid. Alas, being a primary school teacher with an 8-year-old son can keep you busy enough to forget about your past problems.

"Muuum," Theo dragged on as he danced around one desk lazily, "when are we going home, I've got some cartoons to watch," he said snappily, y/n debated on whether she should call her son out on his attitude.

"Soon, you little devil," y/n replied, still happily dismissing her students. Seeing as most of the kids had gone or having a chat with their parents, y/n took that as a sign to pack up her classroom.

"I think Molly has a crush on me," Theo told y/n with a wide grin on his face. She stared up at him with a matching smile.

"Really, how do you know that?" y/n asked cheekily, she waited for her son's answer but only got a shrug and a sigh. She chestily laughed as she started to pack up her bag. "That's not an answer little man!"

"Ask James, he agrees with me," Theo defended.

"You two have really been making a ruckus in my classroom, I should probably split you two up," y/n falsely threatened as she slipped on a small touch up of her pale red lip gloss.

Theo immediately ran to the front of her desk with sad eyes, "please don't mum, we'll be extra good," Theo lifted his pinky finger to wave in her face, "I pinky promise."

y/n stared down and captured his tiny finger with hers, sealing the deal. As she grabbed the rest of her things from underneath her desk, she heard the small pitter patter of an extra pair of feet.

"Hi, Ms.y/l/n" a soft worried voice called out, y/n lifted her head to see James Holland with his bottom lip trembling and his eyes filling with hot tears not daring to spill over. y/n almost jumped over the desk to comfort the young boy.

"Oh James, what's the matter?" she asked gently as she gently wiped the liquid from his cheeks.

"I was supposed to-to be picked up-p a long t-t-time ago," James told her through stifled sobs. y/n felt her heart shatter with absolute sadness for this little boy. It had been an hour since school ended, his parents must be late. "I was wondering if I could go home with you until my dad or his assistant can come and get me."

y/n knew that James's dad did some shady business. She wasn't dumb; she picked up on everything. Whenever his so-called assistant would come to get James she would always ask what he did to dress so sharply and the blonde would constantly have a different answer or sometimes he would deflect the question altogether. She also noticed the gun that lay hidden underneath his jacket and the small pocket knives around his waist. She never thought too much about it because James was the sweetest kid on the planet and he made Theo thrilled, she would not take that away from him by alerting the police to a threat that she had nothing but a hunch about.

Theo burst into a roar of excited cheers as soon as the sentence fell off James's lips. y/n shushed her son before turning back to James. "As much as both of us would love that, you can't come home with us without your dad's permission."

"Can't you just call him?" James exclaimed as he corked an eyebrow at her, as small blush arose on her cheeks; sometimes she felt dumber than the kids. As school policy goes, y/n must have a small binder with all the parents' contacts in case of emergencies.

"Great idea," she complimented as she quickly went to make the phone call. Her finger skimmed around the book, finding the last name Holland and the first name Tom underneath James's page. She had heard that name before she just can identify where. Either way, she rang and someone answered after a few rings.

"Hello?" a male voice called out.

"Hi, this is Ms. y/l/n," y/n told him sweetly. "I have James here saying that nobody has picked him up yet," she told him.

"Fuck, I knew I forgot something!" the voice shouted, y/n was 99% sure the boys could hear it, "shit, Tom will gut me like a fish," the man sounded worried and flustered with panic and fear.

"Wait, who am I exactly talking to?" she pondered.

"Harrison, I'm Tom's assistant." Harrison rolled the assistant slowly. An obvious diversion that she wasn't idiotic enough to fall for.

"Well, if it makes any difference, Theo and James have just made plans for James to come home with myself and Theo," she spoke quietly. "Would that be okay?"

The line was silent for a second or two before Harrison quickly responded, "Yes that will be fine, someone will pick him up around 6," he snapped at her before cutting off the line abruptly.

y/n stared at her phone for a moment before she stared at the boys with a wide gleam. "You're coming home with us James and its homemade pizza for dinner tonight!"

With that, the pair of boys rejoiced and the three of them walked out of the classroom and towards the exit.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom sat in his impressively large chair, his eyes never leaving the clock that lay between photos of his family and his son James. He had been in meetings all day with people that pissed him the fuck off. All Tom had been looking forward to is seeing his son and spending his time playing with James. But yet, it had been an hour since he should have been out of school, meaning he should have been home 20 minutes ago. There as a few harsh knocks, Tom instantly knew who it was.

"Got some news mate," Harrison told him before he had even entered the room.

Tom let his head lean back and a hoarse groan slips out, "it better be good otherwise, I don't want to fucking hear it," Tom spat, "I've been in meetings all day, just wanna see my son."

"About that." Harrison trailed off. Tom felt his heart stop. He instantly rushed over to Harrison's side. "I forgot to pick James up from school today and-"

"You absolute dumbass!" Tom roared. "Other Mob bosses know who he is. I can't have him walking the school ground by himself he'll get bloody kidnapped!" Tom started to ramble, he hardly ever did such an infantile act. He hadn't rambled since James was left on his doorstep with a note saying he was Tom's son and that was eight years ago!

Tom couldn't help but feel guilt rack his body, a million thoughts ran through his mind and he felt as if he was on the verge of tears, but he refuses to let even one go. Suddenly, he snapped out of it and almost sprinted towards Harrison. His hands clasped around Harrison's collar and brought him in so fast, Harrison's knees buckled at the force and skidded across the hard floor. "If you didn't pick him up, where the fuck is he?"

Tom watched as Harrison gulped loudly. Tom hated getting violent with Harrison, but with the safety of his son. Tom would mow downfield of people if it meant James was alive.

"He is with his teacher and her son. She said that I have to pick him up later," Harrison told him weepily. Tom didn't know if it relieved him to know that his son was with good hands with his teacher, who Tom had only heard good things about from Harrison or that his right-hand man let his son go off with a woman Tom has never met. "Listen, she said they are making homemade pizza and that we are welcome to join her when I go pick James up."

"Hm, pick him up when it is necessary," Tom grunted as he walked off, suddenly much calmer than he was before. Harrison regained his composure and ran to Tom's side.

"No, I think you should go pick him up," Harrison told him. Coming from anyone else, Tom would have their tongue cut out, but Tom felt obliged to let it slide after his recent outburst at Harrison. "I think it would be good for James to see his own father come pick him up for once and it wouldn't hurt to meet Ms. y/l/n," Harrison spoke the last part with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

"Before you scheme and manipulate your way into making me do something, you know I don't want any woman taking advantage of me- again," Tom hated saying that sentence, he hated giving James's mother the satisfaction that she broke the heart of the world's hardest mobster. That a dancer from a strip club he owned broke the one heart that was never meant to; his. Tom took it as a sign that love wasn't in his card, only single parenthood. Though deep down, Tom wanted someone else, he didn't want to sleep around with expensive strippers and high-end prostitutes for the rest of his life, he would not die with that being his greatest achievement in the sex department. He'd never admit that to a single soul.

"Come on, get back on the horse," Harrison told him gleefully, "She's a nice woman and you've always complained that all the girlfriends you've had since James have hated children, well she works with your son almost every day. There's a fucking jackpot right in front of you, mate."

Tom groaned in disapproval, "How do you even know she's single, she got an 8-year-old son, she's married" he sighed

"You have an eight-year-old and you aren't fucking married you twat," Harrison scoffed, "plus I've never seen a ring on that finger," he held up his ringer finger and swirling it in his face.

"I don't want to do this anymore, Harrison," Tom complained as he smacked Harrison hand away, "I think it's time to give up, my schedule is too busy, I can barely see my own fucking son!" Tom called out as he rested his hands on his hair, "How can I sustain an actual relationship?"

Harrison said nothing but stared at his best friend. To Harrison, Tom looked flustered, angry and tense. Harrison knew that Tom blamed only himself for the misfortunes in his life, even though all the shit that was happening to him wasn't his fault at all.

Tom could see Harrison was pondering at him. He hated it. "If I do this, will you give it a fucking rest," Tom compromised. Harrison looked at him smugly.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n stood at the messy benches of her kitchen, shredded cheese fell everywhere and a three quarterly cut pepperoni stick was about to fall off. A warm and delicious smell over the house from the full oven; it was her favourite thing. Currently, y/n was finely chopping basil and rosemary while the two boys sat at the island table, flour and sauce almost covered the entire table and the power creates a ring around the boys.

"Now, Theo do you want to tell James how to lay the pepperoni to make sure it doesn't get all soggy," y/n asked him sweetly, trusting him enough to not have to turn around completely.

"Yesmum!" Theo called out as if she wasn't in the same room. She chuckled to herself before she dumped the herbs into a bowl and came over to the table, sitting on one of the free chairs.

y/n watched as Theo taught James the perfect placing of pepperoni on the spare pizza. It was if y/n intrigue of James's father had hit an all-time high as she stared at the young boy. Before she taught James, she remembers hearing a lot of rumours about James's father from the other teachers and even other mothers about how he was mysterious and them handsome. She used to giggle at the rumours; she supposed that some lonely suburban housewives concocted the rumours, that they had nothing better to do than lust after the young bachelor because their husbands can find the g-spot.

But now that she is teaching James, the rumours seem to come alive the longer she knows the boy. She can't help but fall into the trap of her primal curiosity because of a stranger she's never even met and that very stranger could deal with a shady past or worse a shady present.

"So, James, how your dad?" y/n asked innocently. James stopped placing the toppings to talk to her (much to Theo's disapproval).

"Oh, he's awesome, I don't get to see him a lot but when I do it's amazing," James squealed happily. y/n cocked her eyebrow at the boy.

"What do you mean, you don't get to see him a lot', doesn't your dad pick you up from school every day," y/n pressed, she knew she shouldn't be asking him these types of questions but she couldn't help it and James seemed happy enough to answer.

"My dad partner picks me up, his name's Harrison, and he's the best," James smiled widely as Theo tried to get him to pay attention.

"So, what does your dad do?" y/n queered again, genuinely interested in James' answer. The little boy scratched his head a bit before shrugging his shoulders in confusion, y/n laughed sweetly. "You know how I work as your teacher-"

"And you're the best!" James cut her off suddenly.

"Thank you, but what does your dad do during the day," she spoke quietly but it appeared James got the memo.

"My dad does deals with people where he shouts at them and sometimes, I see this icky dark red stuff on him, but dad just tells me it's just paint," James replied sweetly unaware of y/n shocked face. Sure, she had her doubts and suspicions, but she never expected them to be true. Her heart dropped into the pit of her stomach. She has the son of Tom fucking Holland in her house, likely without his knowledge. She'd be lucky if Tom leaves her bloody and bruised. y/n didn't want to believe that this angelic and adorable boy has the world's most feared mobster has a father. How the fuck did she not notice the queue with all the bodyguards that come along to pickup time, the expensive stuff that he brings to class and why Harrison is always wearing a very expensive suit just to bring an eight-year-old back home.

"We're done, ma," Theo called her out of her anxiety-driven haze. She smiled sheepishly as she took the pizzas from the boys and put them in the oven. "Are you okay, mum?" Theo asked again as he crawled off the chair and went to throw the scraps in the bin.

"Yes sweetheart," y/n replied shakily. What was she going to say to him, how was she going to explain, how is she going to keep her son safe, what if she-

Ding!

The doorbell rang, the sound almost deafened her. y/n steadied her nerves and walked over to open the door. Outside stood two bulky 6'4" men and a nicely dressed one in the middle. For some odd reason, y/n felt her cheeks heat and her heart rate pick up. The messily pushed back brown curls seemed to fall perfectly in place and frame his face. Massive diamond rings laced his fingers as he slightly tapped at his wrist, that she might add was decorated stunningly with pronounced veins that made her weak.

"Um, welcome," y/n spoke quietly, the man in the middle (who she assumed was Tom) stared at her darkly before stepping inside. The warm lighting of her hallway seemed to illuminate Tom's features y/n noticed the sharp jaw, and she was just able to make out his dark brown eyes underneath the Versace sunglasses. "Hi, you m-must be James's dad, I'm Theo's mum; y/n," she extended her hand to meet his.

Since she opened the door, entrancement seemed to flow through him. Sure, it wasn't romantically at first, but the woman surely intrigued him. She had her hair tucked behind her slightly sauced ears and behind a flour-covered apron seemed to be a tight-fitting red pin-up dress, which he compliments shows off her curves nicely. Tom felt like he had to smile at her, not in a joking way but in a way that he couldn't explain. In a way that he had to smile when he saw Tessa trip over her own feet. It was adorable; she was adorable.

When he heard her speak, it felt like a breath of fresh air had hit him. He felt as if he was in his childhood home again and she was the beautiful nanny Tom would have had a crush on. Tom felt instantly out of place when he walked in. He was so used to the dark setting and furniture of his massive mansion. He was so used to walking the long empty halls and going to bed in a vacantly giant room. Now though, her home felt so cosy. The walls were tight enough to feel warm but wide enough to not squeeze you. The rooms seemed busy with colours and clothes and her kitchen was small but still seemed homey.

In an act of complete defiance to himself, Tom thought he could live here if he wanted, and he wanted to. It was so different from his regularly scheduled life, her home, her arrangement and even y/n herself made Tom feel so out of place that he had to give her all his undying attention as if she was a magnet of everything Tom needed to balance his life. What the fuck is going on with him? So he snapped himself out of it.

"Where's my son," Tom asked her. He tried not to sound like a total dick, but it was hard not to. Tom felt worse when he saw y/n flinch slightly after he snapped, "I'm sorry," Tom has never apologised to anyone other than his son, he has to get his shit together quickly.

"Oh no, it's okay," y/n smiled warmly, the apology from the mobster made her feel a little better about her situation. "James is hanging out with Theo, you're welcome to stay if you'd like," she invited. Tom felt like he had to stay, and it didn't help that when James saw him in the hallway, he started to cry and whine.

Tom immediately ran to his side, but James pushed him away and hugged Theo, which he happily reciprocated.

"No, I'm not going, you can't make me!" James yelled furiously as he turned his back to his father. Tom sighed loudly. He bent down and placed his hand against James's back.

"Come on, little man, I don't want to intrude," Tom explained sweetly, his hand rubbing small circles. y/n didn't know a man such as Tom Holland could speak that softly and sweetly; it made her want to swoon.

"He's not in-intruding Mr Holland," Theo told her quietly. Tom noticed the boy had stumbled over the hard word. He couldn't help but admit defeat and regained his composure.

"Harrison told me you were making pizzas, it's been a while since I've had some well at least homemade ones," Tom announced loudly, "so I guess we are staying."

The two boys rejoice before they made their way back to the TV and left Tom and y/n by themselves. y/n awkwardly made her way to the kitchen, and Tom dismissed the two bodyguards behind him and happily followed her.

As he walked down the hallway, he took slight notice of the different photos that hung on the walls. Most of them were of Theo, one had him in a karate uniform holding a trophy and a toothy smile while another had a photo of y/n and Theo at the park. Tom couldn't help but smile at them. Once more did he have the feeling of need for all of this to be in his life, he wanted more, correction he needed more. He squeezed through her slim doorway and stumbled into y/n's endearingly kitchen.

He had never seen a mess like her kitchen; he saw flour on the floor and sauce on the cupboards. Tom couldn't help but let a small chuckle escape his lips as he sat opposite her.

Tom wasn't an idiot. He could see how scared he was making her just by sitting closer to her. y/n on the other end of the table was almost shitting herself, she could feel her throat becoming dry and tried her best to avoid connecting their eyes even if she desperately wanted another peek at his warm brown eyes.

Tom stared at her with guilt racking his body, "I will not hurt you," Tom told her gently and for some odd reason, he fought back the urge to hold her trembling hand as he spoke. y/n didn't believe him, she knew deep down that this is what he says to his victims before he blows their fucking brains out, until "I promise." Tom had even surprised himself with his words. He has promised nothing other than when he promised his son he could ice-cream for dinner one night, Tom wasn't sure what was washing over him but worse he didn't know if he liked the feeling or not.

Tom waited for her response. He waited for y/n to give him any cue to tell him she felt safe around him. Finally, y/n lifted her eyes to meet his. Tom hadn't really gotten a good look at the door. Her eyes matched her whole persona, it almost entranced him. They were young but filled with such wisdom and knowledge; he didn't know what to do. It was an obvious y/ec, but it was like he was experiencing the colour for the first time in his 27 year life.

y/n slowly lifted her eyes to meet his and Tom's heart jumped into his throat. Never has a woman had this effect on him; it addicted him. Tom spotted a faint smile on her sauce, dusted lips and couldn't help but return the favour. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be this cold towards you," she spoke softly.

"Oh, it's fine. I get it all the time," Tom responded with a small giggle.

"That's awful," y/n immediately protested, her full attention on him.

"What I do is awful sweetheart, it comes with the job," he told her as he leaned back in his chair. y/n pulled back, how could she be so dumb?

Tom noticed her sudden shift in mood and cleared the air, "I don't mean to pry but is Theo's father around, I didn't notice him in any of the photos," Tom asked awkwardly, he genuinely wanted to know but immediately realised his mistake, "or is that not a talking topic?"

"No, it's okay," y/n responded with a light chuckle, something Tom desperately wanted to hear more of, "Theo's dad and I split badly and I haven't spoken to him in years," the memory still haunts y/n but she could only let fragmented pieces out at a time, "Theo has never met his father and I intend on keeping it that way."

Tom's brain started to concoct a sadly romantic fairy tale with both of them but he quickly scolded himself. Suddenly, y/n perked up. She jumped from the table, took one pizza out of the oven, and started to cut it.

"What about you?" y/n asked with her back turned.

"What about me?" Tom responded, nobody has ever asked him that.

"A good-looking man like you with a son has to be married," y/n exclaimed before placing a pizza in front of them both and calling for the boys, giving them their pizza.

"Sadly, no, I'm not married," Tom chuckled as he picked up a piece. "I had James with his mother on a whim I guess." Tom saw y/n cocked her eyebrow in confusion. "That's all I'm letting out." Tom crossed his arms and leaned away.

y/n though leaned in and batted her eyelashes, "No, you got me intrigued," y/n whined. "If you tell me, I will tell you my backstory the next time we meet."

"We're going to meet again?" Tom smirked widely, suddenly pulled into her spell. Tom saw the heat rise to her cheeks and her face scrunch up as she tried to rack her brain for a proper answer. She was gorgeous; he wanted to stare at her face for all eternity.

"O-of course," she stuttered, tripping over her own tongue suddenly. She doesn't know why she's acting like this. Sure he's a godly handsome man that is ticking all of her boxes in a matter of moments but her brain seems to keep forgetting that she's sitting just a few feet away from the King of the English Mafia. A man who could kill her in a second, still she couldn't help the primal attraction that was cursing through her.

Tom held his hand out to her. "All right darling, it's a deal," he spoke lowly. Any logical person would have kept their hand to themselves. Any reasonable educated person would not raise their hand and shake Tom's. y/n was a logical and educated woman, but not with Tom around. So she took his hand in hers and shook slowly.

"Jame's was- how do I say this? Not planned." Tom sighed as he played with the pizza in front of him. "When I first got control over the Mafia. I bought this strip club just down the street. I used to go in there almost every night. I thought if I went in it would make me feel like a true Mafia King. The Mafia King who sleeps with whoever he wants whenever he wants, but I guess I am more of a romantic than I thought. There was this girl, she was interesting, and I found her mesmerising from the second I saw her. So like an idiot I started to see her only, I bought her things, I gave her safety and let her decide in the Mob. I guess one night I forgot to put on a condom and she left me the very next night. Nine months later, James was wailing on my doorstep with a small note saying 'I am so sorry, he's yours and I can't look after him', I still remember the words on that stupid fucking note," Tom felt his voice crack, he peered over to James who was eating his pizza and pretending to fight the bad guys on the T.V, "I adore my son with every fibre in my being but I just wish things were a little different."

Tom swivelled around and saw y/n almost in tears, "I'm sorry," y/n snapped out of her emotional haze and started to wipe away some tears, "I don't know what came over me."

"That's all right, my mum was in tears for days after James arrived." Tom stared down, remembering the feelings of the room on that day, "happy tears."

y/n felt an overwhelming surge of emotion hit her like a truck. She has heard no one talk with such passion. "Wow, that's um-" she blushed, "quite a story."

Tom gave her a weak smile. He noticed the blush that bubbled to the surface of his cheeks. Tom noticed a lot of other things while she sat opposite him. He noticed the small dimples that would peak out if she smiled. He noticed the freckles that perfectly sprinkled her skin. He was sure that if he sat here for long enough, he could count every one of them.

"Is there something on my face?" y/n's concerned voice snapped him out of his lovesick haze. Tom shook his head slightly before y/n took the back of her hand to wipe the non-existing grime off her cheek only to smear sauce all over her.

"Well, now there is," Tom laughed before he leaned over and wiped the sauce with his napkin. y/n came closer to help him reach her but in the process only pushed her cleavage up, causing Tom's chair to slide out from under him. Their faces were so close, y/n felt the warmth from Tom's body wafting and swirling around her as if he was entrancing her. Problem was, she was fully under his spell now.

"Are you going to kiss my dad?" James ecstatic voice called out abruptly. y/n almost fell off her chair just from the pair eyes. Theo was standing just behind James with a smile that matched his friend as they watched their parents compose themselves.

Tom tried to piece an answer to give his son while still leaving his options open with y/n. "None of your business little man," Tom faked growled as he tickled James and Theo's bellies, causing them to run off squealing with excitement.

Tom turned around to face her, the faint glow of the kitchen made y/n look like an angel. He felt overwhelming an urge to fall to his knees and pray to her, but he slid it to back of his mind. Hoping that maybe he could do it soon.

They talked for what seemed like a second but in reality; they had been talking for an hour. Tom would give every cent away just to keep hearing her sweet-like honey voice. y/n as well couldn't get enough of him, the more she allowed herself to open up to him the more she seemed to love his company. He was intelligent, well-spoken and off the record; he was so goddamn attractive. y/n believes she was to go to the nearest church just for having him near her. Still, he made her feel safe. He made her feel something that she hasn't felt since Theo's father left her. It scared her. Her heart picked up and her brain started to overwork itself. He was just humouring her; he would leave her in a heartbeat; he's got rows of women begging to sleep with him, why would he want her?

"Oh god, w-would you look at the t-time," y/n stuttered as she rushed to get him out of the house before she broke down in tears. y/n jumped out of her chair and almost threw the plates into the sink.

Tom stood up in a panic. He was having a wonderful time with her, why was she so eager to get herself alone?

"It's only a quarter to ten," Tom chuckled as he checked the watch on his wrist. y/n didn't want to make him leave. If it were up to her, she would let the kids' sleepover and pull him into her sheets as fast as possible but her subconscious had other plans.

"I'm sure the King of The Mafia has a busy schedule," she replied as she ran to get the boys' plates and get them back to the kitchen. She was right, Tom did have a lot happening tomorrow. He was most likely going to get his hands dirty. He kept his mouth shut on that remembrance.

"Well, how about you come over to mine tomorrow night," Tom suggested. y/n stood dead in her tracks. "I need to repay you for this wonderful night." A blush formed on her cheeks.

She sighed and before she could even let a single syllable out-, "We would love to Mr. Holland!" Theo's voice shot up. His head appeared just behind her with a straight smile. Tom immediately matched Theo's, knowing y/n couldn't refuse the two of them.

"Yes, we would love to and we will-" y/n head dropped, "and we will be there."

Tom let himself fist bump the air as he went to get James off the couch. "How's 9:30 sound, I have some stuff to deal with beforehand?"

"Sounds g-great," y/n sighed. Tom quickly pecked her cheek as he went for the door. y/n turned to him in disbelief.

"Can't wait angel," Tom whispered just before he closed the door. Jesus Christ, he would be the death of her.

"He seems like a nice guy," Theo blank voice rang out. He leaned up against the back of the couch as he raised his eyebrows at y/n suggestively. she gave him a light smack on his arm.

━━★✼☆｡

Tom sat in his chair. The cloud of smoke and the sounds of ragged panting wafted over the room. Percy's head drooped low as he waited.

"Where's your fucking brother Percy?" Tom asked non-nonchalantly. His eyes never wavered off the man.

"Like I told you buffoons before," Percy lifted his head weakly, "I have no clue where my crackhead brother is," Tom glimpsed his prize. Percy's sweaty hair stuck to his head, the crusted blood started to fall from the gash on eyebrow onto his bound feet. Percy stared at him with one eye open; all he could achieve. Tom smiled gleefully.  

"Don't you fucking lie to me, you little shithead!" Tom roared. His hands slammed down on the desk. Everyone to jump. Tom paced around to lean on the front of his marble desk. "I have some very important people coming in about-" Tom glanced at his watch, "10 minutes."

"I will not rat my own fucking brother out," Percy responded defiantly. Tom's patience was thinning with every tick of the clock.

"I don't want to hurt you, Percy," Tom faked a smile, "not tonight at least. So you better make this quicker than me taking a fucking piss." One of his men pulled Percy's hair back, "Where is you goddamn brother."

Percy felt the barrel of Tom's gun roughly shoved up against his temple. He fought back a tear. "Columbia, trying to smuggle your drugs into Ecuador," Percy revealed.

The door swung open to reveal a completely un-phased Harrison. "They're here."

Tom immediately straightened up. "Perfect Timing!" Tom started to his men, "get rid of him." As his men dragged Percy out of his office. Tom straightened his coat as wiped off the dried blood on his chin. Harrison chuckled lightly before Tom ran out.

"They're in the upstairs hallway," Harrison called out, but Tom was already too far gone. 

The massive painting loomed over y/n. She had completely forgotten how powerful Tom was, the matter that Tom commanded respect had slipped her mind. He stood in a black suit. Like something straight out a mobster movie. she giggled to herself at that thought.

"I begged my mother not to have me painted, but she insisted," Tom called out to her. y/n jumped at his voice but softened when she saw him approaching in the same outfit as the portrait.

"Well I think you look devilishly handsome," y/n responded with a wide smile, a smile that made Tom's heart flutter. As he got closer, he noticed the absence of a certain 8-year-old.

"Where's the munchkin?" he asked as he searched around her.

"He's upstairs with James. He took Theo's hand and ran off as soon as we stepped into the door," she laughed. Tom couldn't help but smile along with her. He wondered if she let this side of her out often. Genuinely giddy and joyous. "Do you look at most women like this?" She broke his concentration. y/n stood there with her eyebrow quirked and a smirk plastered on her face. Tom begged whatever god was up there to allow him just a single kiss.

"Only to you, angel," Tom responded, his pearly white teeth shining through a wide smile. y/n's cheeks flustered and her whole face glowed red. He was pushing all of her buttons, wasn't he?

"Come upstairs, I want to show you something," Tom exclaimed as he captured y/n's hand within his. Tom led her up a small flight of stairs and into a large room. The dim bedroom had red plastered everywhere. The carpet was a soft red velvet and the sheet; a luxurious red and black silk. Hell even the walls were painted with a deep maroon. y/n looked over to him with shock. "Dont worry sweetheart, the surprise is outside," Tom chuckled before his calloused hand landed on the small of her back nudging her softly. y/n's breath hitched into the back of her throat.

y/n pushed the glass doors. The dense forest of trees sparkled in the bright moonlight. The faint glow of London's lights dimmed in the background. She knew this might not have been the most aesthetically pleasing view, but it felt more than it looked. The safety and security of the view made her swoon. "Is this a date, Mr. Holland?" y/n smirked as she sat down in the glass chair.

Tom had never heard his last name sound so sweet.

"Only if you want it to be Ms. y/l/n," he responded, quickly trying to conceal his blush.

She stared out for a moment. y/n didn't know why, but she felt like a shy teenager again. A girl sitting next to a hot guy who has no real interest in her. It was nostalgic in some sick way.

They talked for hours. Tom couldn't get enough of her. It was like she was some beautiful drug. A drug so addictive, he's hooked after one night. Every time a laugh surpassed her soft lips, Tom can't help but let his heart flutter. She, too, was quite enjoying herself. y/n let her walls down slowly but surely. The more he talked, the more she leaned. The more she felt as though this was fate. That though was a juvenile thing to even fathom. So y/n wondered what her life would have been if she met Tom before her ex. Would she be happy or would she still be silently crying to herself to make sure Theo didn't hear even a peep.

A curt knock at the door interrupted them. A middle age woman peeked her head in.

"They're both in bed," she spoke happily. "It took a while to get Theo off to sleep though."

y/n giggled, "I'm not surprised."

Tom stared at her for a moment, imagining that Theo and James were their sons, and she was his wife who always seemed to amaze him. Maybe in the near future, he thought to himself.

"Thank you Ms Smith," Tom smiled warmly at her, y/n looked over to him in childlike shock.

"You have a nanny!" y/n poked Tom in his bicep. He gently swatted her finger away.

"Less about me, angel," Tom sighed. "Now, we had a deal," Tom's eyebrow cocked, and a smirk filled his face.

y/n smiled weakly at him. I will need a shit ton of booze, she thought. She grabbed the bottle of expensive wine and poured herself a glass. She gulped it down. Then she poured another one, drinking it down quicker than the first one. Finally, one more glass of wine went down, and she was ready to open her mouth.

"Mind saving a little for me, angel." Tom chuckled lightly, y/n made work getting him a glass (and more for herself wouldn't hurt.)

"Okay, so it was my last year of high school. I had been fawning over this guy since I was twelve. Then, out of nowhere, he's pulling me into empty stalls and telling me he can't be without me and he's in love with me," y/n started, she was cut off by the man next to her.

"How could he not?" Tom quipped as he took a small gulp of his wine. y/n gave him a hard glare as she tried to steal his attention away from the flush of her cheeks.

"Anyway, it took a bit of time but like the idiot I am, I gave in. We went on a few dates; we were happy for a good while. Until those two stupid fucking lines," she felt her voice break. Her head started to feel dizzy. Like it would roll off her neck will the snap of a finger. "Maybe, I was feeling all maternal, and I told him I was pregnant. To my surprise, he stayed with me for my first trimester. He refused to tell his parents, I of course, had to confess to mine. Sometimes I think that was the first red flag. It wasn't until the middle of my third trimester things went downhill. It's normal for women to put on a little weight when they're pregnant. Obviously, he didn't have a fucking clue." y/n felt herself, get more furious and more upset with every word that rolled off her tongue. "He started telling me 'You look enormous', 'I have a fat whale for a girlfriend, 'I wish you had aborted that thing, so I wouldn't have to look at you like this'," She was in tears now, the salty liquid dripped from her cheeks onto her dress. Tom knelt in front of her, his hands rubbing small circles on her knees. "He abandoned me, right when it counted." She started him. Tom felt his heart shatter. "Everyone leaves me Tom."

"I'll never leave you, y/n" Tom reassured her, he took her shaking hands in his. y/n peered down, she shook her head.

"Tom, you don't want me," y/n sobbed, "No one does, it's okay."

"y/n," Tom hovered above her, his palms rested on her warm cheeks. "I want you, more than I have ever wanted something in my life." Their eyes met. "You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on."

y/n was in disbelief, her hands rested on his wrist. Her cries stopped as soon as she felt his thumb stroking soft circles on her cheek.

Tom still saw that look in her eyes. The look of a woman so broken by a man who never loved her, who took advantage of her admiration. Something Tom needed more than air to breathe. He was making it his mission, that y/n would not leave his home until she finally knew that not only did her son appreciate her, but he did just as much.

So, he took a chance. He bent down and encaptured her lips with his. She tasted like everything, he dreamt of. She tasted like the cakes his mother would make for him on his birthday. She was the breath of sweet excitement when he smelled homemade pancakes. It surprised him he hadn't completely dissolved at this simple touch.

y/n sat in shock for a moment. Her brain tried to catch up to his movements. He didn't move against at first. She pressed into it. Her hands gripping slightly at his wrists as she reciprocated the tender kiss. She, too, felt the satisfaction of knowing what he too tasted like. She took notes of all the little details; the taste of freshly smoked nicotine, the smell of his cologne wafted around her; the pronounced viens in his hands. She was in heaven.

Their lips moved against each other. It wasn't needy or rushed. It was steady and passionate. y/n has experienced a kiss like this in her 24-year-old life. "Take me to the bedroom," she spoke through mousey breathless moans. Tom pulled away completely at this.

"I don't want you to feel like I'm taking advantage of you," Tom told her sweetly, y/n hands caress his cheek gently as she gave him a warm smile.

"You're not taking advantage of me Tom," she stood from her chair, never letting her eyes tear from his, "I want this."

Tom beamed. His hands snaked their way to the underside of her bum, pinching softly. Instructing her to jump, which she happily obliged. y/n could feel him, grasp at her bare thighs. Every time he touched her skin, it burned with sinful passion.

Perhaps it was the one too many wines she had downed in less than a minute or that this was the first man she's really been intimate with since Theo's father left. Either way, her skin felt so susceptible to each kiss her laid on her. Hyper sensitive to every pull at her skin. So responsive to his touches.

Tom took his time laying her on the sheets. He took his time to look at her flushed skin in the dim lighting at how she looked like something sent from God. Why God was sending him something in the first place was a question for later. As he sauntered away from her to lock the door, y/n noticed the decor until the feeling dawned on her. Was she really about to sleep with Mafia King; Tom Holland. She had only one answer- obso-fucking-lutely.

Tom tenderly pushed her onto her back, his face now level to hers. y/n thought she looked as red as a tomato, Tom would agree but wouldn't protest at all. He laid a soft kiss to her lips, then a slightly harder one to her neck, then to her collarbone. His hands snaked up her dress. His fingers clutched her hips, pulling her clothed heat closer to his already painful hard groin.

y/n watched every move he made, every attempt to bruise her skin. Tom whined quietly when his lips met the fabric instead of her flesh. y/n giggled and lifted her dress over head and onto the floor next to her.

Tom couldn't help but pull away to take a glimpse of her. Her flushed breasts hidden behind a plain black bra. Most wouldn't think too much of it, but he couldn't help himself. Tom could see her hardened nipples peeking through the material. He pulled the cup down slightly. Tom heard her hiss quietly at the sudden exposure. His lips came down to the bud gently. His teeth pulling at the erect skin ever so lightly only to flick the nub quickly. Hearing her quiet moans and praises spurred him on. He needed more.

"T-tom please," y/n whimpered quietly, her fingers tangling themselves in his messed brown curls. Tom smirked up at her.

"What are you begging for angel face," Tom asked her innocently.

y/n couldn't get a single word out with Tom's fingers dancing at the skin near her soaked panties. Even dipping underneath them for split seconds.

"Do something, with y-your," she struggled. Tom was enjoying every moment. "f-fingers."

"Your wish is my command," Tom rasped out as he pulled her panties down her legs and got between them. He let his pointer finger paint a long strip up her slit. y/n's hips buckled. "You're so wet doll, being such a good girl."

y/n could only let out a hum. Tom wanted to hear that divine voice of hers, so he blew a wisp of air against her clit making her cry out. He was lucking the boys' rooms where so far from here. "Look at me, I want to see those gorgeous eyes gloss over when I make you cum," he promised as he laid a chaste kiss to her inner left thigh. y/n couldn't wait another moment, she might explode. Slowly her eyes met his. His face was mere centimeters from her cunt.

Tom didn't take a second longer. As soon as her eyes were on him, he went in hard. His tongue latched onto her throbbing clit, pulling and sucking so hard it was audible for the both of them to fawn over. He couldn't forget about the promise he made, so his digits circled her hole delicately before he slipped two of his fingers into her.

y/n felt her whole body go numb. It was a feeling so exotic to her. Yet, here she was. Barely able to make a sentence as she tried to bite back constant moans that begged to be let out. Her toes curled even picking up some sheets beneath her.

Tom could feel her fingers pulled at the roots of his hair. He couldn't but moan against her pussy, causing vibrations in every nerve in her already sensitive body.

"Oh my god, y-yes," She let slip. y/n swears she's starting to see stars now. "F-fucking hell, you're a-amazing."

Tom allowed his fingers to hit deeper inside her with that comment. He was making her cum now, or he will blow without even feeling her yet. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if that happens. He pulled his mouth away from her clit with a loud pop, letting his digits do all the work. He watched her writhe and pull at anything she could grasp. God, she was so fucking perfect.

"Christ, j-just like that," y/n encouraged him, "I'm going to c-cum."

"Do it angel face, cum all around my fingers." Tom whispered to her, "let me taste your sweetness."

y/n felt her first orgasm wash over her like a tsunami. She needed to scream her heart out but quickly smothered her moan in the pillows beside her. Tom peered at her intently. To him, he was watching an angel. Seeing her cum is now his new favourite thing. Being the one to cause such pleasure within her makes him feel as though he's on top of the world. His fingers rode her through her orgasm until she hit the end. Her hair sprawled out as she tried to catch any breath left in her lungs. Hell, she was trying to regain some of her sight. Tom brought his fingers to his mouth. His tongue licked them clean. Her juices tasted like nothing he's ever had before and he immediately knows, there is no way he's letting this go.

Tom stripped himself bare now. He crawled above her once more. His curls falling slightly in his face. y/n opened her eyes to see him on top of her. y/n took this moment to run her hand down his torso. Each time her fingers lapped over a muscle, she felt herself recapture her arousal. Her fingers found the base of his dick.

He was bigger than what she thought, bigger than her ex. It started her a tad when she felt his hard length. She started pumping his slowly. Tom's arms almost buckled at the feeling.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to cum into your hand," his pulled her wrist away from him to above her head, "and I just want to pound this sweet little cunt into oblivion." The words cause y/n to whimper, eager for him to fulfill his promise.

"Then do it," she leaned up to whisper in his ear. As she pulled back, he locked eyes with her. Utter shock and an animalistic urge filled his every thought. He didn't even give her a warning before he slammed right into her. y/n cried out and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Tom couldn't believe the feeling. She was hugging every vein, every mark, every inch of his cock and yet so was still so fucking tight. He pulled out of her, only to ram back into her. "Fucking hell, you're divine," Tom growled, still deep inside of her. Slowly, he picked up a rhythm.

Every part of y/n's post was filled the brim by him. He hit her g-spot almost instantly. His name became a chant to her as it never ceased to spill from her lips. Each time he pounded back into her, y/n's voice became horse and rougher. Her nails dug into his bag as she clawed for support. Any support she could get from him.

Tom's been with countless women. Now he's finding it hard to sustain a sentence. He can hardly make out anything other than y/n's name. He wasn't complaining though, her tight walls constricting around with every movement. Tom wondered for a moment if he died and went to heaven and was fucking the dirtiest angel he could find.

"You look so goddamn beautiful taking my cock," he praised. He let his head fall into the crook of her neck, smelling her perfume made him almost lose his shit right there. "You feel so good squeezing around me."

Every word was threatening to her. Every word was pushing her closer to her limit. Every word was forcing more moans out of her mouth. "I'm going to cum, Tommy," she warned him.

The nickname only helped Tom lodge himself deeper and harder into her, "I am too, don't hold back angel face," he pressed a kiss underneath her ear.

y/n's second orgasm rolled over more intense the second time than the first. She pulled her head into his skin, biting and pulling to contain herself. Her legs gave out on her and flopped from his waist and quivered beside him. Tom was quick to follow her. How could he not, with how firmly she was gripping his cock. He pulled out quickly and spurted out streams across her belly. The white liquid dripping over her skin made him see stars.

He collapsed next to her, heaving and panting. y/n turned to him. She placed a long kiss on his lips, bringing his face closer. Tom happily hummed against her skin.

He pulled her into a tight hug. Her fingers traced the outline of his pec. "I'm infatuated with you," he told her plainly. y/n didn't move nor did she flinch. She  just stared up at him with a wide smile.

"As am I," she responded quietly. He wanted her to stay here forever, he had admitted to himself that he wanted to be near her for the rest his life. It was like she had cast some spell over him. He, though, had happily fallen for it.

In his eyes, she was a goddess among women.

━━★✼☆｡

[firstdegreefangirl]

Eddie Week Day Five: Eddie and His Idiot Husband

Word Count: 2291

Original Pub Date: 19 June 2020

Relationships: Eddie Diaz & Christopher Diaz, Eddie Diaz & Abuela

Author's Note: Me? Writing Christmas fic in June? More likely than you think.

Read on ao3 here

Usual suspects: @eddiediazweek @hearteyesforbuck @rebeccaofsbfarm @thisissirius @hearteyesforbuck @dramamineontopofme @twinien @meloingly @myemergence

It started out simply enough: Eddie was picking Buck up from the car dealership, taking him to lunch with Christopher while he waited on an oil change. As soon as Buck swung himself up into the truck seat, Chris started giggling.

“What? What’s so funny, little dude?” Buck turns around in the seat to watch him laughing, and Eddie looked up in the rearview mirror to see his son practically doubled over against his seatbelt.

“You-you guys are … you guys are TWINS!” He can hardly get the words out, but as soon as Eddie realizes what he’s said, he glances across the console at Buck

Sure enough, they’re both wearing blue jeans and the same T-shirt: plain black with the LAFD logo on the chest.

It’s an easy coincidence, especially given how many shirts they both have that are identical, city-issued for special events or fundraisers. They’re not technically uniform, but everyone wears them to work, so it only takes a few months to accumulate a pretty big collection.  

Eddie can see the moment when Buck realizes what’s happened, and he feels his heart swell at the way his face lights up.

“Well,” Buck exaggerates the way he winks at Eddie, makes sure Christopher can see the gesture, and looks to the backseat again. “One of us is going to have to change.”  

It happens again three weeks later, just a couple of days after they take Christopher to the aquarium.

(Eddie had tried to call it a “family day,” but he saw the way Buck squirmed at the notion of being part of a family, of having a family so unlike the one where he grew up, one that does things together, has special days and events for no particular reason.  

So he’d dropped it, but knows it’s something that will come up again later, something for them to work on as a family, even if they don’t call it that just yet.)

Because they are a family, and if it weren’t obvious enough, when the got through to the giftshop, Christopher had insisted on a set of three identical Stingray Bay T-shirts to commemorate the occasion. And neither of them have ever been able to tell him no, not for something as simple as that, so Buck had dropped a small fortune on them, insisted on paying after Eddie had bought the ice cream earlier in the day.  

Eddie knows he should have seen this coming, should have anticipated that Buck would show up wearing his stingray shirt on Tuesday when they met at the school to surprise Chris with lunch.  

Buck does this; every single time Christopher gives him something, he makes a point of showing it off, using it when he knows he’ll be able to see how much Buck loved the gift.

So Eddie should have known he’d pick today to debut the new shirt, should have planned ahead and picked something else, literally anything else, from his closet.  

Not that he doesn’t love the idea of matching clothes with Buck, but that he’d at least like to be a little bit more subtle about it than a pair of blue and grey tie-dye swirled T-shirts with bright yellow lettering and a cartoon stingray. He couldn’t possibly be happier than he is when he’s with Buck; the last year and a half have been the best of his life.  

But he’d rather show it off with the way they can't stop smiling when they’re together, the way they’re constantly touching, always seeking each other out. It’s a quieter, more honest demonstration of their relationship.  

But there’s not much he can do about it when he meets Buck out front of the building and they’re both wearing the shirts. It’s not like he has a closet in his truck with extra clothes, so all he can do is grin and bear it.  

It’s worth it though, for the way Buck pulls his sunglasses down and whistles as Eddie approaches.

“Nice shirt, babe. Where’d you get it?”  

“Just this place I know.” Eddie can’t help but roll his eyes. “My kid picked it out, and the hottest guy I’ve ever seen bought it for me.”  

“Oh, a hot guy? Should I be jealous?” Buck laughs and pulls the door open, settling his hand low on Eddie’s back as he kisses him gently and walks into the building.

“Only because I’m the one holding the French fries, and you know how Chris picks his favorite dad for the day.”

A month later, Eddie starts a massive load of laundry before he gets dressed for work, having put it off for long enough that he knows it’ll probably need two cycles in the dryer. Only after the machine had started filling with water did he realize that he hadn’t remembered to set aside the least-dirty shirt in the pile so he had something to wear into the station.  

Which leaves him scrambling to find a shirt, any shirt he can wear until he gets to work and puts his uniform on. There’s one left, stuck way at the back of his drawer.  

It’s the very epitome of a Laundry Day shirt, covered in garish black and white stripes. In one of his finer moments as a father, Eddie had let Christopher rope him into dressing up as a zebra for the station Halloween party so he could be a zookeeper.  

(There had been no need to rope Buck in. In fact, the whole thing had been Buck’s idea, after he’d gone with Chris on the field trip to the zoo and sat next to him while they watched the zebra feeding.)

The costume had been great, he has to admit. But as soon as the party was over, the shirt went to the back of the drawer, waiting for yardwork season.  

Or, laundry day.

Reluctantly, he pulls the shirt over his head and hopes that he’s running late enough to make it into the locker room before anyone sees him.  

But why would that go in his favor when nothing else this morning has? Eddie has just made it into the station when he collides with a black and white striped blur.

“What? Ed—” Buck steadies them both and looks Eddie up and down, checking for any injuries. “I leave you alone for one night, and you hardly make it to work on—”

Eddie watches his face as Buck realizes which shirt he’s wearing, and he’s sure it must match his own expression when he sees the same garment pulled taut across Buck’s chest.  

“—time.” Buck finishes, amusement shining in his eyes.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be running late if someone hadn’t insisted on ‘saying goodbye’ before he went home last night.” Eddie raises an eyebrow and Buck flushes at the memory of how … thorough … his parting kiss had been. “Could’ve had the laundry in the machine last night, maybe even had a regular shirt to wear today.”  

“I’ll have you know that I happen to think this is an excellent shirt on you.” Buck runs his hand up Eddie’s torso to wrap his fingers over his shoulders.  

“Mm, there’s no way it looks better than yours does.” Eddie mirrors the gesture with a smirk. “You know my excuse; why’d you pick it out?”

He’s not sure what he’s expecting Buck to say, knows it’s nothing to do with seeing Chris since he’s at a sleepover after school tonight. But Buck still manages to surprise him when he shrugs, and responds like he’s saying the most obvious thing in the world.

“Couldn’t decide if I wanted to wear a white shirt or a black shirt today. So, both.” With his free hand, he waves up and down his body.

Eddie’s got a response all ready to go, is ready to watch the look on Buck’s face when he asks why he didn’t just split the difference and wear grey, but before he can say anything, Hen rounds the corner and bursts out laughing.

“OK,” She gasps out when she’s finally able to control her chuckles again. “Are you two only going to wear clothes from Christopher from now on? Because I’m telling you both, that is a mistake. He’s a cute kid, but the fashion doesn’t translate well to grown men.”  

Neither of them respond, and she walks away after a few moments, calling out for Chimney, who “isn’t going to believe what these idiots managed today!” Once she’s gone, they look at each other and smile.

“Laundry day?”

“Only way I was going to have a shirt for tomorrow that doesn’t have the style sense of a nine-year-old.”  

After that, the spell seems to be broken, whatever wardrobe-wavelength he and Buck were on shifted far enough that they’re dressing independently again.  

Before Eddie knows it, there’s a chill in the air – as much as there ever is in LA – and he and Buck are taking Christopher back to the mall to see Santa again.  

This year, there’s nothing stopping him from leaning against Buck while they wait in line, no reason for Buck not to tuck three of his fingers into the back pocket of Eddie’s jeans.  

While they’re waiting for Chris to come back out of the little cardboard village house, something catches Eddie’s eye in the window of the nearby department store. He turns to face Buck, putting just enough distance between them for Buck’s hand to drop back to his own side.  

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Long as that kid’s list is, you’ll still be waiting, but if not, meet you guys right here?”

“Sure.” Buck smiles, clearly unconcerned as Eddie walks away. He doesn’t waste any time, quickly finds what he’s looking for and waits in a miraculously short pre-Christmas line to check out and join Buck back in the winter wonderland.  

He sits the paper gift bag by their feet, rebuffs Buck’s attempts to find out what’s inside.

“Would you be patient?” But he’s smiling as he nudges Buck away from him. “You’ll find out in … 18 days.”  

“Fine.” Buck rolls his eyes. “But I’m not telling you what your present is either.”  

Eddie picks up a few other things along the way, loves nothing more than spoiling Buck when he has the chance, but there’s no gift he’s more excited about than the one from the mall. It had been such a hit last year that the 118 decides to celebrate en masse again, so he slips the presents into a large box and slides it into the bed of his truck before making sure Christopher's ready to go.

They make it through dinner and two rounds of presents before Eddie can’t wait any longer. When it’s Buck’s turn to unwrap something again, Eddie passes him a slim, flat package.

“Open this one. You’ve waited patiently enough.”

He watches closely as Buck peels away the paper and shakes the box to reveal a silk necktie the exact same color as his eyes. He beams at Eddie, then gasps and stands up in a hurry.

“Bobby! Eddie needs to open the next gift!”  

“Why? He gets to go again in two turns.” Bobby, ever the father figure, has been keeping track, making sure everything is handled diplomatically. Buck steps carefully through the children spread out in the middle of the floor, making his way across the room to whisper something in Bobby’s ear. His eyes widen as he considers whatever case it is that Buck’s making, and he nods. “Alright, I think we can make an exception just this once. Go get your present, son.”  

He bounds across the room and fishes a tiny, firecracker-shaped package from underneath the tree then tosses it to Eddie.

“Your turn, honeybunches.” The over-the-top pet name elicits eye rolls from around the room – Eddie included – and Buck grins as he settles himself back in the seat beside him.  

Eddie turns the present over in his hand, tries to figure out what Buck might have come up with that would be shaped like this. Finally, he gives up on trying to guess and just pulls the ribbon loose at one end, folds the wrapping back to reveal –

An identical blue necktie.

Maddie puts it together first, claps a hand over her mouth to muffle her delighted squeal.

“You bought me … your necktie?” Eddie holds it up, trying to gauge if they really are the same shade of blue.

“No. Well, yes, I did. But that wasn’t … I didn’t know you’d bought one for me. You just always look at things this color when we’re at the mall, so I figured you must like it.”  

“It’s my favorite color,” Eddie replies, his voice thick with quiet wonder. “It matches your eyes.”

On Maddie’s other side, Chimney leans in to stage-whisper, loud enough for the whole group to hear. “Gee, wonder why it’s his favorite. Could it be? Do you think? Nah …"  

She swats his arm and he yelps, but stops talking.

“Your favorite color … is my eyes?”  

“Yeah, they’re ... blue.” There are a million other thoughts going through Eddie’s head, moving so fast that he can’t pin any one of them down enough to elaborate.  

He looks up from the tie, stares into Buck’s eyes and marvels at how a ribbon of fabric was able to match the color so perfectly. As Christmas gifts go, a necktie is pretty unremarkable, but Eddie knows right away that he’ll treasure this one forever.

As the party goes on around them, Eddie’s mind wanders to the little velvet box in his pocket.  

Maybe just once, he and Buck can plan to coordinate their outfits, right down to matching neckties.  

[littlemisslol-fic]

All's fair in love and war. 

Heheh I had fun with this one! Today was inspired by my good friend Jigg who did a lot of absolutely hilarious drawings of Protective-Big-Brother-Eugene a month or so ago! I've always wanted to write something with that concept after she posted it, and bless I finally got my chance!! If you're not following her insta GO DO THAT YOU FOOL <3

@alistairwrites​ I had HELLA fun with this prompt today lmao

“You’re the love of my life.”

 “I know, you’re not very subtle.”

 There’s a pause, before Varian looks up from his book with an arched brow, waiting for Hugo to respond. Hugo, sitting on the other end of the couch, smiles with a sense of forced innocence. His feet twitch from their place on Varian’s lap; the smile grows more strained.

 “What’s your angle?” Varian asks, poking his nose back into his book. “Or, better question, what did you break?”

 “I’m heartbroken that you assume that of me! Goggles, please, how could you say that about me?”

 “Hugo.”

 “I want to mess with Rider.”

 Varian looks back up, noting the mischievous grin starting to split Hugo’s face. “Eugene?” He asks, “Why?”

 “Haven’t you seen him lately?” Hugo snickers, “Every time I get within three feet of you, he looks ready to burst a blood vessel.”

 Varian pauses to think, chewing on his lip. “Really?” He finally says, closing his book and tossing it onto a nearby table. “I didn’t notice…”

 And he hadn’t, not really. It had only been a few months since they’d come back from the library, hand in hand and ready to face the world together. Rapunzel had taken it well, but Eugene… well admittedly Eugene hadn’t taken the news of Varian dating an ex-associate of his with grace. The older man had very loudly demanded to know why Varian had to choose that one, as opposed to some nice, wholesome noble, but Varian hadn’t taken the bait. Because this one’s mine, he’d said to the man, and that had supposedly been the end of it.

 Supposedly.

 “Has he been saying things to you?” Varian asks, his tone dropping. “If he’s said something that wasn’t okay I can-”

 “No, no, nothing like that, Sweetcheeks.” Hugo’s hands fly up in a placating manner. “I just like to watch him get twitchy.”

 “Is that why you were hanging off of me after dinner last night?” Varian asks with a huff, thinking back to the sudden PDA of the night before. While Hugo was always one for contact, it had been excessive.

 “Testing the hypothesis.” Hugo nods, looking sage. Varian’s fully laughing now, his shoulders shaking with the force of it. He can see Hugo bite his lip to keep from laughing too, but the tears in his eyes make the room swirl.

 “And-” The giggles grow uncontrollable. “And what were the results? Did you write them down? Make me a chart and present your findings.”

 “The results were very promising.” Hugo finally breaks, his own laughs joining Varian. The blond stretches, moving his feet so he can lean closer to his boyfriend. Varian lets Hugo enter his space, leaning up for a chaste kiss. “And he really did pull some amazingly offended faces when I touched your ass-”

 “Okay, that’s enough of that!” Varian near screams, shoving Hugo’s pouting face away from him. “No, no more, you ruined it.”

 “But if I asked-”

 “What’s in it for me?”

 Hugo pauses, thinking. “I’ll proclaim my eternal love for you?” He offers, to which Varian rolls his eyes.

 “You already do that daily.”

 “What about taking the trash panda for a walk?”

 “Ruddiger hates you.”

 Hugo grits his teeth, jaw tensing. Varian perks, giggling again as Hugo spits out the next words. The blond knows exactly what will get Varian to agree, much as it’s going to cost him.

 “What if I cleaned the beakers for the next week?”

 “Make it two.” Varian’s crying with laughter again, refusing to look at his devastated boyfriend lest he break entirely.

 “One and a half.”

 Varian wipes at his eyes, nodding. “Deal,” He gasps between laugh, forcing the words out. “Deal, deal.”

 Hugo leans forwards with a groan, using Varian’s lap as a pillow. “You drive a hard bargain, sweetcheeks,” the blond moans dramatically. “But I guess that’s why I love you.”

 “Damn straight.” Varian snickers, leaning down to press a kiss to Hugo’s head. The blond’s face lights up at the contact, a small blush scattering across pale cheeks. Varian does it again, just to see that smile grow.

 “Now, how are we going to play this?”

 They start small.

 Testing the waters, as Hugo had called it. Small things here and there, nothing really unusual for the two of them, to be honest. A glance here, a touch there, a kiss that lasted just a smidge too long. Varian kept half an eye on Eugene, noting with delight that Hugo was, in fact, right. The older man’s face was constantly contorted into either disgust or rage every time Varian and Hugo got a little too close to each other, the man glaring at Hugo consistently when he thought Varian wasn’t looking.

 Hypothesis confirmed, they’d taken it up a notch.

 “You’re my everything,” Varian coos from his spot half-on-half-off of Hugo’s lap. “I love you more than life itself.”

 His boyfriend bites his lip to keep from laughing, reaching up to cup Varian’s face with both his hands. “You’re my sun and moon,” Hugo plays up the last few words with a kiss to Varian’s nose, nearly bursting out laughing when it scrunches.

 From the corner of his eye, Varian can see Eugene’s hands twitch.

 They’re in the library, Varian, Hugo, Eugene, and Rapunzel. The evil of the week had crawled out from under whatever rock it had been living beneath, and Rapunzel had asked for Varian’s help to try and stop it- but that didn’t stop the alchemist from seizing the chance to mess with his big brother. Multitasking was something he prides himself on, of course.

 Varian and Hugo snuggle close on an ornate chaise together, nearly plastered together in a way that makes Rapunzel squeal and Eugene rage.

 “Wanna tone down the PDA, goggles?” He grumps, flipping though a book roughly. “Go be gross somewhere else, if you’re not going to help-”

 “Oh, Eugene.” Rapunzel chastises from her perch on a nearby chair. “Just let them have their fun, they’re not hurting anyone.”

 “They’re hurting my soul.” Varian hears Eugene grumble to himself, and has to push a giggle into Hugo’s shoulder. The blond isn’t much better- and Hugo’s always been one to push the limits. Varian feels hands slip down from his face and onto his hips; the grip is still chaste, but solid as Hugo pulls him close and hooks his chin over Varian’s head.

 “You’re the light of my life,” Hugo proclaims, “My heart, my soul-”

 “I’ve loved you since the moment we met!” Varian pumps his words with drama, flinging his arms around Hugo’s shoulders and holding tight. “Since I laid eyes on you-”

 “You’re my everything.” Hugo… sounds a little more serious this time. Varian pauses, looking into somber, green eyes. “I owe you so much more than I can ever give.”

“I love you.” Varian says into Hugo’s shoulder, ignoring how Eugene makes a noise like an angry cat. “So much.”

 “I love you too,” Hugo murmurs. Varian feels a kiss pressed into the top of his head, sighing at the contact. Something in him warms; even if they’re just playing up the schmoopy garbage to annoy Eugene, it’s still nice to hear affirmations of love from his boyfriend.

 “Okay, that’s it!” Eugene shouts, slamming his book down. It startles everyone else in the room, all of them looking at the grumpy man. “Goggles, glasses, with me, c’mon.” He points an accusatory finger at the two on the couch before roughly pushing back from the table. He stalks deeper into the library, not looking back to see if they follow. Varian chances a glance towards Rapunzel, who only shrugs with a what can you do expression on her face.

 Varian sighs and gets up as well, holding out a hand to help Hugo up. “I think we might have pushed too far.” He mutters, gripping tightly to Hugo’s hand.

 “Nah,” Hugo grins, an easy, simple thing. “He’s just being a sourpuss.”

 Varian can’t help but snicker again, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, but it’s not going to matter when he stabs you.”

 “I will take my stabbing with grace if it means I get to stay with you.” Hugo simpers, his face twisted in an over-the-top pout. The shorter boy shoves him away with a laugh, turning down the row of shelves he’d seen Eugene disappear into.

 The man stands there, arms crossed, tapping his foot with a put-upon expression. Varian’s hand goes a little tight as it grips Hugo’s, just enough to give away his stress at the sight of how aggravated Eugene is. There’s an awkward silence for at least half a minute, the older man glaring at the two alchemists, who remain quiet.

 “Why are we here, exactly?” Hugo finally cracks the silence in half. Varian steps on his foot with a glare, shaking his head as Eugene’s face grows darker.

 “I need another book.” The man grumbles, “And I don’t trust you not to be weird while alone with Rapunzel.”

 “Eugene it’s not like that,” Varian sighs, “We’re just mess-”

 “Book. Please.” Eugene grunts, gesturing to a tall ladder on rolling wheels. It’s closest to Varian, so the youngest of the three rolls his eyes and drops Hugo’s hand, climbing up the ladder with a grumble that’s sounds suspiciously like stupid old man before he’s too far up to be heard anymore.

 And that’s when Eugene strikes.

 “Hands off of goggles, capiche?” The man jabs a finger into Hugo’s chest. “I know he likes you for now, but hands. Off.”

 “Or what?” Hugo challenges, delighting in how Eugene turns a wonderful shade of purple. “We both know you can’t do shit while Varian’s-”

 A sudden shriek cuts them off. Both their heads snap upwards just in time to watch Varian’s foot slip off the rung of the ladder, the boy dropping like a stone. Hugo’s got his arms out before he can think, lunging forwards-

 A body slams into his own-

 Eugene and Hugo, having slammed into each other when both had tried for a catch, tumble to the floor in a mess of limbs and shouted curses. Hugo feels a sudden pain flair up his side-

 Varian’s cry cuts off with a strangled noise as he falls directly on top of the two men tangled together on the floor. Hugo and Eugene shout as Varian’s weight hits them, both of them losing any sort of air they might have had in their lungs. The three lie together on the floor, groaning at the various aches and pains, breathing heavily. Varian’s the first to move, rolling off the pile with a small wince. Hugo’s up like a shot, borderline scrambling towards his boyfriend with barely contained worry.

“Shit- you good, goggles?” He stumbles over the words just like he stumbles over Eugene’s legs, pale hands flying up to cup Varian’s face. Varian nods quickly, his own hands reaching for Hugo’s shoulders.

“Fine, fine, I’m okay,” Varian says quickly, “Are you-”

 “I’m good,” Hugo sighs, “By the Maker, that was a hell of a drop, are you sure…?”

 A sudden groan from the floor has both boys looking towards Eugene, the man still lying prone on the hardwood.

 “I’m okay too,” The man says, not looking up from where his face is pressed into the floorboards. “Thanks for asking.”

 Varian has the heart to look sheepish, though Hugo just glares. Eugene doesn’t seem to want to move, even when Varian slinks closer to offer an olive branch in the form of a hand to help him up.

 “C’mon, Eugene.” Varian says, “We’ll stop, if it’s really a big enough deal-”

 Hugo makes an offended noise. Varian shoots him a look. Eugene grumbles, shaking his head.

 “Why, of all the eligible bachelors, did you pick that one?” He says, less asking Varian and more bemoaning the universe as a whole. Varian bites his lip to keep from laughing, offering a pat of consolation to Eugene’s shoulder.

 “Because I like that one.” Varian wheedles, “Just like Rapunzel likes you.”

 Eugene pauses. He finally turns his head, making a noise that sounds like a drawn out, whiney, ehhhhhhhhhhhh noise. Varian’s shoulders hitch in a laugh, the alchemist biting his knuckle. “That’s a low blow, kid.” The man grumbles, glaring at the boy without much fire.

 “But?” Oh, Varian’s enjoying this.

 “But I guess I can leave you and glasses alone- if you promise to tone down the gross lovey stuff.”

 “That can be arranged-” Varian agrees, just as Hugo butts in with a “I promise nothing.”

 Varian sighs, but smiles as Eugene takes his hand. A look at Hugo has the blond grabbing Eugene’s other arm, the two alchemists helping the older man to his feet.

 “You’re both heathens.” Eugene grumbles, fixing his hair with the pout. “And I hate you.”

 “The feeling’s mutual.” Hugo mutters. “And your hair’s thinning.”

 “Hi guys!” Rapunzel’s head pokes around the corner, a bright smile taking over. All of their spines go ramrod straight, the three of them snapping to attention. “Stop your lollygagging, we can’t keep waiting around!”

 When she disappears around the corner, they all slump with a sigh. “Can we put a pin in this?” Varian asks, following the princess. “You two can hate each other after the kingdom’s safe.”

 When he disappears around the corner, the two men glare at each other once more.

 “Truce?” Eugene asks through grit teeth.

 “For now.” Hugo replies, tense as a bowstring.

 For now would have to do.

[nocturnal-jeon]

𝚋𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗➛ 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜/𝚘'𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚖𝚙 (𝚑𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎)

IM EXCITED TO WRITE THIS AVNFAOIBNEA

Kim Namjoon

“I have a snippet of a song I want to play for you,” Namjoon whined through the phone, causing you to giggle. “Baby, it’s two in the morning,” you said as you stared down at your biggest secret, rubbing your stomach with your free hand. “I want my little night owl to come listen to songs with me,” he said. You could practically see his pout from your shared bed at home.

“Joonie, you’re lucky I love you,” you said with a smile as you pulled yourself out of bed. It’s not like you were doing much. You were really just watching shows all night. “Bring snacks!” he shouted excitedly into the phone before hanging up. You shook your head and looked down at your stomach, tapping it with your middle and pointer finger. “Your daddy is so weird,” you muttered, hoping the little baby nestled in your womb was listening.

Searching through Namjoon’s half of the closet, you found the baggiest shirt, pulling it over your half naked figure. You looked back down at your stomach. “Don’t look at me like that. I want daddy to find out on Christmas. A few more days until we can both celebrate you,” you said. You then broke into fits of laughter, sounding like a crazy woman having full on conversations with your pregnant bump.

Pulling on some shorts and some sandals, you threw some snacks in a plastic bag before making your way to your car and driving over to the studio. Though you were always a careful driver, you felt as if you were putting your little baby at risk if you went just two miles over the speed limit, so you drove nice and slow through the empty streets of Korea.

With your free hand, you knocked on the door of his studio.

“If you don’t have snacks, don’t come in!” he shouted from the other side of the door. You chuckled and pushed the door open. Namjoon swirled around in his chair and smiled when he saw you, his smile growing when he saw you wearing his shirt.

“Did you get good stuff?” he asked as he took the bag from your hands and peeked inside, rummaging through the various items. “Hey babe, how are you doing? I’m great, Joon, how are you, sweetie?” you mocked, placing your hands on your hips. He put the bag down and pulled you down onto his lap, placing kisses on your shoulder as your back sunk into his body.

“Thanks for coming to spend time with me,” he muttered in between kisses as he slowly turned his chair back around to face the numerous screens with complicated software on them. “Mhmmm,” you hummed, leaning back into him. His arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you closer, but suddenly his arms stopped moving. You bit your lip hoping he didn’t discover his Christmas present already.

“Y/n...” he started. You turned to look at his face and nearly burst into laughter when you saw the size of his eyes doubled in size. You felt his fingers pull the shirt up as he poked your stomach. “What’s this?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “I don’t know what you mean,” you teased, a smile on your lips.

“Are you pregnant?” he asked, hope in his eyes. “I mean, you ruined the surprise, Joonie, but yes,” you said. His eyes got even wider. “Holy shit,” he muttered to himself. “Holy shit! We’re having a baby!” he exclaimed loudly, the largest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. “We are, babe,” you confirmed, smiling along with him.

His hands moved up to your face and he held them between his large hands. “I love you so much, y/n. So much,” he said. You nodded and kissed his nose. “I love you too, darling.” “Oooo! I have another person who can listen to the song,” he said, causing you to laugh. You nodded. “I already know what’s going to be their Christmas present,” he said, a look of pride on his face. You raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what’s that?” you questioned. His long finger pointed over to the shelves on the wall. There sat the little pair of baby shoes he always kept in his office.

“Oh, Joonie,” you said softly, feeling the best you’ve ever felt in your entire life. He placed a kiss on the back of your neck. “We’re having a little baby,” he muttered, probably to himself, still in complete disbelief.

Kim Seokjin 

Jin hated to admit it, but he needed help making the food for tomorrow. It was early in the morning and as soon as his alarm went off at 6am, he could barely open his eyes without falling right back asleep after. But the alarm could only snooze for but so long, so when it went off at 6:15am, you let out a groan and gave Jin a kick to the side. “Jin, if you don’t turn the alarm off, I’m going to throw your phone against the wall,” you threatened, but the sleepiness laced in your voice caused Jin to chuckle. 

“Good morning to you, too, y/n,” he said as he leaned over and kissed your forehead before turning off the alarm and rolling out of bed. Remembering what day it was, the excitement brought Jin a year’s worth of energy. 

Later today, both your family and Jin’s family were coming over for dinner. Jin spent weeks leading up to today planning each meal and every aspect of today by the minute. You thought that he was going way overboard, but Jin always got excited when it came to family and he wanted your families to have the best time. 

After brushing his teeth and washing his face, he went downstairs and began to prep all of the ingredients for the seemingly eight-course meal he had planned. For the next two hours, you slept soundly in your bed, until you heard the sound of a pot falling. You sat right up, giggling a bit when you heard Jin yell in frustration. Rubbing your tummy, you said, “I wonder what mess mommy is going to have to help daddy clean up.” Slowly getting out of bed, you stretched and walked downstairs. 

“Ah! Jin,” you whined as you looked down at the spilled water on the floor. He grabbed some towels and began to clean it up. “Here, let me help,” you said as you grabbed the last towel and got on your hands and knees, wiping up the water. “Why did you even have water in a bowl?” you asked with a small laugh. “I was trying to wash the lettuce for the kimchi,” he said, not being able to help but laugh at his faults. 

“You’re making it from scratch?” you asked, completely shocked by his determination. He splashed some of the water on you, his windshield wiper laugh filling your ears, causing you to break into laughter. “Now I’m all wet,” you whined as you got up. You went to go put the now soaking wet towel in the washing machine, but Jin grabbed your wrist. 

“Hm?” you hummed, looking up at him. But he wasn’t looking at you. He was looking down at something. You followed his gaze and realized that he was looking at your stomach. The water caused your white shirt to stick to your skin, exposing your barely protruding stomach. 

“You’re pregnant?” he asked blatantly, a small smile growing on his lips. “I am,” you said, a bit defeated that he ruined the surprise but glad that it was finally out in the air. You wanted to announce it to everyone that night at dinner, but you were glad that Jin knew now. 

“How far along?” he asked in barely a whisper as he walked toward you, his large hand reaching out to touch your stomach. “A month and a half,” you said, a small smile on your lips. “I’ve always dreamt of this day,” he said, looking up at you. Sticking your finger at his chest, you said: “You better act surprised tonight because that’s when I planned on telling everyone.” He laughed, kneeling down to place a kiss on your stomach, warming your heart. 

“Now, my food as to be the best cause our little baby has to eat it,” he said, placing kisses all over the surface of your stomach. “Both my babies have to eat. I’ll make breakfast.”

Min Yoongi

It was very early on in your pregnancy, but your hormones were raging and the exhaustion already hit you. You spent most of today out and about with Yoongi, watching a movie and going out to eat. But you thought the food was horrible, so, you forced Yoongi to go get you the juiciest burger possible right when you got home. 

Of course, he didn’t want to leave and go out again, but there was a certain something in your eyes that told Yoongi that if he didn’t go, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. Those fucking hormones. 

You sat sprawled out on the couch in the living room as you scrolled through the various channels, not being able to decide what show you wanted to watch. As a kid’s show came on, you couldn’t help but look down at your small little stomach. You knew damn well that your kid would grow up on comic books and cartoons. You had found out yesterday that you were pregnant, but you didn’t know whether you wanted to throw some elaborate surprise thing to break the news or just casually slide it into the conversation. 

The thoughts and worries swarming through your head brought feelings of exhaustion and you began to drift off to sleep, the animal sounds from the show playing through your ears oddly lulling you into a deep sleep. 

Meanwhile, Yoongi was on his way home, a bag with your burger in the passenger seat. He thought about how weird you’ve been acting. You’ve always had a snappy attitude, which he loved with every fiber of his being, but you’ve been soft lately. It’s not like he was complaining, but he couldn’t help but feel that something was up. He just couldn’t place his finger on it. 

Nonetheless, he arrived home, quietly chuckling to himself when he saw you fast asleep, limbs sprawled out on the couch like a crazy person. After kicking off his shoes, he made his way into the living room and bent down to put the bag on the coffee table, but listened as the bag dropped on the floor and completely missed the table. “What is that?” he asked himself as he surveyed your sleepy body. 

“Fuck,” he said as he kneeled on the floor beside you, slowly reaching his hand out and touching your exposed stomach. You had a bump. A bump pregnant women had. And that’s when all the dots connected. You’ve been so soft lately. Hormones, he guessed, with a quiet chuckle. His smoothed his hand over your stomach, a small, cute little smile on his lips. 

You slowly opened your eyes, a bit shocked when you saw Yoongi’s face so close to yours. “Damn, our kid hasn’t even been born yet and he’s already learning his animal sounds,” Yoongi joked as he gestured toward the television screen. You chuckled softly, sitting up as you rubbed your eyes. 

“You’re not mad?” you asked. He shook his head. “How could I be? I’m gonna be a dad,” he said softly, placing a light kiss on your hand. “Well, I’m mad, Yoongi. What the fuck? You let the burger fall on the floor?” you shouted, looking down at the burger on the ground. Yoongi looked down at it too before looking at you. 

“You have to go get another now,” you explained simply. “Are you serious?” he asked. He loved you but he didn’t love you that much. “Dead serious.” You crossed your arms. “Hormones. Hormones,” Yoongi chanted to himself as he got up and went to go put his shoes on. “What’s that? What’d you say?” you asked from your comfortable position on the couch. 

“I said I love you and the baby!” he shouted without turning to look at you, resulting in a smile on your face. “Yeah, that’s right, Min Yoongi.” 

Jung Hoseok

It was a beautiful day. For the past week, the weather has been so shitty and it’s been raining a lot. But, as soon as the sun was out and the temperature rose, Hoseok practically dragged you to the beach. Your surprise pregnancy announcement was planned for later in the week so you couldn’t figure out what to wear that could hide your bump. 

You figured that you could just wear a bikini as per usual and then just wear a shirt over it. Hoseok had no idea whatsoever that there was anything going on with you. He thought you were just your normal, peppy self. He helped you carry all of your things onto the sand and he helped you spread out the large blanket and open up the large umbrella that would provide some shade. 

The children running around caused your hormones to go crazy, causing you to become extremely happy and excited for your little baby to come. You couldn’t wait until you and Hoseok could share the excitement together. “I love the sun on my skin,” Hoseok said as he took off his shirt, causing your attention to leave the book you were reading and go to Hoseok’s shirtless body. “You should take a picture, babe,” he joked as you reached for your phone. “Alright, you suggested it,” you said. “Okay, okay,” he said with a loud laugh as he took the phone out of your hand and replaced it with a bottle of sunscreen. 

“Get my back?” he asked, plopping down on his stomach. “Sure,” you said as you straddled his butt, rubbing the cream into his back. “I love the smell of sunscreen,” you commented, bringing some up to your nose so you could smell it. Your nose has been extra sensitive to smells. “Don’t eat it,” he said, causing you to giggle. “Alright, you’re all done,” you said with a few light slaps to his back. You got off of him and reached for your book, but Hoseok stopped you. 

“I’m gonna put some on you. I don’t want you to get sunburnt,” he said. You awkwardly smiled, knowing that this meant you had to take off the shirt. But maybe he wouldn’t notice. Not breathing, you pulled the shirt over your head and put it down beside you. Hoseok sat behind you and held your hair up with one hand as he rubbed the sunscreen into your back.

“Are you going to get in the water with me?” he asked. You shrugged. “Possibly,” you said. “Here, I’ll get the front, too,” he said as he gently laid you down on your back. Just as you opened your mouth to object, the shock written all over his face shut you up. 

“Y/n. You’re pregnant?” he asked in an excited voice as he saw your bump. You nodded, smiling. Suddenly, he sprang up and ran around the blanket, shouting at the top of his lungs. “I’m gonna be a father! We’re having a baby!” Random people on the beach began to clap, causing your cheeks to heat up. Suddenly, he gasped and ran back over to you, kneeling down beside you. 

“I have to put sunscreen on your belly. Don’t want our little sunshine to get sunburnt!” he exclaimed. Before he put the sunscreen on, though, he placed a big kiss on your stomach and a big kiss on your lips. “Our little sunshine. Can’t believe I’m saying that” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. 

[sidespromptblog]

The Jock...and Logan

Summary: Logan is a nerd, that much is a given and something that he’s gotten used to over the years. One thing that he can’t get used to, no matter how much it happens, is the fact that people use and then subsequently leave him. 

(Commission trade for @dailypattondoodle )

Waking up felt just about like every other morning, his alarm blaring out whatever song happened to be streaming on the radio as he blearily opening his eyes before he wildly stretched his hand out fumbling for his glasses. That morning, Logan slid his glasses onto his face like he did every single day before school, just like he picked up his phone, the hope that was bursting in his chest completely withering and dying as soon as he saw that the screen was completely and utterly blank. Save for one name that had just recently been added to his contacts.

This is the tenth time. That spark of hope died where it had been burning in his heart. The tenth time that they haven’t answered..the tenth time that they’ve ignored my messages..and me. This time it took a little more effort for Logan to push those nasty thoughts that lingered just under the surface of his mind, as he wiped away the stringing of his eyes. It hurt, but that hurt was getting better to ignore, especially as he tapped on the message that remained on his phone screen, the profile picture already making a smile tug at the corners of his lips.

Prince Surely-Temple: We still on for studying today? Prince Surely-Temple: My mom made us an apple strudel thing. Prince Surely-Temple: It’s good I promise. Prince Surely-Temple: Looooogan. Prince Surely-Temple: I’ll see you at school, you better be there nerd. AND with an empty stomach. Prince Surely-Temple: Or else!

Logan’s stomach grumbled at the mere thought of Roman’s mother’s cooking, just about anything that she managed to bake with her own hand ended up being good enough to go down in history. She was the only reason that Logan even went to those boring football meet and greets, aside from the fact that Roman was there and they’d agreed to help each other. Logan with Roman’s trigonometry final coming up, and Roman..with the jerks who strolled through the halls looking for easy targets. Or that’s how it had started at first, Roman’s loveable goofball charm was just as intoxicating as it was sweet. Sure he still helped him study, but they also hung out afterward. He sat with him at lunch, listening to him ramble on and on about his astronomy class and his most recent obsession, whatever that happened to be at the time.

It was...nice, for a change.

“Logan!” The thickly accented voice of his aunt cut through the air like a knife from down the hall where she was most certainly lingering by the kitchen door with that look of stubborn concern written all over her warm face, her voice alone startled him out of his thoughts as his head snapped up in attention. “It’s a school day! The bus will be here any minute! You can’t miss today!”

For a second, Logan wanted to groan and bury himself in his mountain of pillows and block out every sound and hint of sunlight that would force him to face the reality of school. He wanted to, the very idea of it nagged at his very core as exhaustion tugged at his bones. But...the mere image of his aunt’s worried but stern eyes looking back at him, telling him that there was no way he was going to miss school so close to finals had him up before he could even think it through.

He went through the motions of getting ready. Brushed his hair, until it gleamed in the poor lighting of the bathroom, brushed his teeth until his gums ached, and put on his clothes. A carbon copy of just about the same outfit he wore every single day, and after gathering his books he was ready to go. Leaving the sanctuary of his room, just to come face to face with his cousin. Who, as always was dressed head to toe in pure black without a single hint of lighter colors to be seen on him, and a snarling grimace permanently attached to his face.  

A part of Logan groaned internally, no matter what mood he was in, Virgil always had a nose for picking out whatever was bothering someone...and their weaknesses.

And unfortunately for him, he was the very person that Virgil was sinking his hooks into next, that was pretty much a given just by the slightest tilt of the other’s head.

“You know,” Virgil drawled as he poured his cup of orange juice, his dark eyes drifted over the top of his drink as his lip curved down into what could only be a disappointed frown aimed right at Logan’s forehead where the words “Gullible” were written for everyone to see in plain sight, or at least for Virgil to see as he set the jug of juice down on the counter. “If you weren’t such a pushover, you’d have a lot more friends than you already do.”

Logan’s forehead crinkled in confusion as his brown eyes darted all over Virgil’s face, the moment that his cousin started to languidly sip from his drink. “What..” He swallowed thickly as his grip tightened unconsciously on his books, “What are you talking about?” He honestly didn’t want to know the answer, and judging by the way that Virgil’s eyebrows lifted as a bemused smile lit up his face, he really didn’t want to know the answer. That dark smile was usually only reserved for people who Virgil had a personal beef with, or... for people’s heads he really just wanted to get into. Whichever one he was, remained to be seen.

But even so, Virgil strolled forward like one of the villains that Logan had seen on his cartoon programs.

“Don’t you know?” Virgil’s voice was a croon as he rested his heavier hand atop Logan’s head, rustling his hair and messing it up despite Logan obviously just having brushed it. “Everyone knows who you are Logan, you’re the smart one, the clever one, the one who knows all the answers to every school-related problem. They know that, so they get you to help, and once they have everything that they want from you…” Virgil paused ominously as his frown deepened even more, and his eyes flashed with a singular moment of furious hatred. “Once they have that..they don’t need you. I’ve seen it too often from the people you’ve helped Lo, they all talk behind your back and you just let them. I don’t want to see it happen again, so...don’t let it happen again. Understood?”

A sensation that Logan could only describe as crushing settled over his throat, like a foot pressing down on his chest getting harder and harder as each second passed.

Was that really all that he was to people? A bookworm..a nerd...a useful object for people to use and abandon once they got what they needed from him?

Even so, Logan mustered a tiny shaken nod towards Virgil’s dark narrowed eyes, getting only a firm nod in return.

Was that what that was? Logan couldn’t help but for the storming thoughts in his mind to swirl uncontrollably. Remington? Toby? Magie? Percy? They never answered the texts I sent to them, and they all just ignore me at school. So..So is Virgil, right? He’s never been wrong before, so maybe-

The unmistakable sound of the bus tires squealing in front of his house ripped him right out of his thoughts as his eyes darted over to the screen door.

“Your bus is here,” Virgil plainly said, his upper lip curling just faintly at the mere thought of high school. “You shouldn’t miss the bus, mom will be pissed if you do.” And just like that, his darkly clad cousin moved to walk away, back down to the basement where his bed and gaming system laid in wait for him. But glancing back over to Logan, who was in the process of gathering his things for school he piped up one last time. “Don’t forget about what I said Lo, sever your ties with them..hurt them before they can hurt you. You’ll be all the better for it.” And just like that the basement door shut with a resounding thud, that echoed throughout the house and throughout Logan’s mind as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

He couldn’t stop fidgeting throughout the entire bus ride, with Virgil’s warning ringing through his ears.

Never before had Logan ever imagined high school being any different than it already was, never before had he imagined that the different groups of people would feel so alien to him, but they did. Every piece of brick around him, to the smallest stripe of paint, felt off to him, like he was looking through the world with a new set of eyes. His chest ached with each step that he took, and his breathing whistled with the smallest exhale that left his lips.

And it all accumulated into that one moment, all rushing up into one volcanic erupting as he felt an arm lock around his neck, and the familiar smell of roses and strawberries fill his nostrils.

“Hey, nerd,” Roman’s lips quirked upwards in a half-friendly smile as he buried his knuckles into Logan’s messy hair, that really looked like the guy hadn’t even touched it with a brush let alone washed it in the past two days. The smile on his face waned just slightly as soon as Logan hastily pushed Roman’s hand off of his head like it contained some rare bacteria that would infect him with a flesh-eating virus, “You okay dude? You look like shit.” He joked, just for his smile to grow smaller and smaller as soon as Logan’s fists clenched, trembling by the nerd’s side. “You still up for helping me study this aftern-”

“No.”

The words sounded like they were hissed from Logan’s lips, as the smaller boy glanced up at Roman, glaring through his watery eyelashes as his bottom lip trembled with each second that ticked by. His teeth were bared in a mockery of a fearsome beastly snarl, a look that almost instantly faded as soon as Logan took a breath, his chest hitching with that one movement.

His throat felt like someone had stuffed it full of cotton, and his lung full of wet tissue paper. The sound of air traveling through his windpipe and into his lungs made a dreadful whistling noise as he stood there before the football player, who was only now looking at him with a dawning kind of horror. As Logan pressed his lips together, the compressed sensation crushing his chest more and more as time slowly ticked by, the seconds felt like entire hours as the cool air licked at his wet cheeks but still wouldn’t get into his lungs. He was suffocating, with an entire world of oxygen around him, his lungs weren’t working, even though there wasn’t a single thing wrong with them. Everything seemed to slow down, as the bright lights from school hallways beamed down at him, catching on the metal zipper of Roman’s jacket, and just about everything else that could reflect like and be aimed at Logan’s eyes.

Within mere agonizing moments, Roman had seized Logan’s arm, hoisting him up as soon as it looked like Logan’s knees were going to give out on him. “Shit! Shitshitshit!” The jock hissed to himself, he could practically feel the resignation in Logan’s eyes as he heaved him up dragging him from the overcrowded hallway, and into the calm blissful silence of the library that had yet to fill up with students who were studying for their finals. “Breathe Lo, breath!”

Even just saying that felt useless as Logan let out a sharp whistling exhale that twisted something deep inside Roman’s stomach, and made him feel like he was soon going to be sick all over the dull faded blue carpet of the library. His hands were shaking as Logan’s fingers clung to the back of the chair that had been neatly pushed under one of the tables, his knuckles were turning white and his lips were gaining a faint blue-ish tinge to them. However Roman was trying to help him, it clearly wasn’t doing any good.

Logan pawed weakly but with the desperation of a dying man at one of the zipped up compartments of his backpack, “Hal..er..In..hale..r” He wheezed out, and the very sound sent a shudder down Roman’s spine, his mother had told him often enough about the dead man’s rattle from her time working in the hospital. About how even when her patients couldn’t even open their eyes, the one thing that always remained with them until the end was that wheezing rattle that clung to the hollow base of their throat.

Until their breathing ceased altogether.

Even so, it took less than a few seconds for everything to slot right into place.

Inhaler! He’s having an asthma attack you dumbass! Roman mentally snarled to himself, as he yanked at Logan’s backpack with a quick jerk of his arms. Scattering the contents along the floor as he hastily unzipped the pocket before shoving his hand around, frantically grabbing ahold of it like it was the cup that led to the fountain of youth. In no time at all the inhaler found its way into Logan’s hand, as Roman watched the entire time that Logan pushed the plunger down inhaling deeply before holding his breath.

Little by little, the color came back to Logan’s face, the blue tint leaving his lips in order to be replaced with a healthy looking peach color. Seeing it come back made Roman’s stiff shoulders sink in a pure tidal wave of relief that came crashing down on him all at once, making his knees feel weak and his entire body like jello.

“I didn’t know you had asthma,” He felt a rush of guilt almost immediately as Logan’s entire body stiffened all at once, at the sound of his accusatory voice. “But serious Lo, what’s going on? I..I know you, so you’re not one who’s going to cancel like this out of the blue, so...what’s wrong dude? Talk to me.” His eyes flickered down to Logan’s hands again, watching how they grasped the back of the chair. His knuckles were white again, a stark contrast against Roman’s own darker skin. “Has someone been bothering you? I’ll make them stop Lo! I promise, just talk to me and-”

“It’s you!” The shout roared in the silence of the library just mere seconds before Roman felt the inhaler bounce back off of his chest, Logan ran his fingers through his messy knotted hair. “It’s you and everyone in this damned school!” Logan seethed, his cheeks pinking just slightly as soon as he had to stoop down and pick his inhaler back up from where he had just throw it. “You’re all so content to use people! The smart kid, the tough kid, the kind kid, the pushover! Everyone! The moment you get something from me, I’ll be obsolete in your little world view! My usefulness will be over, and you’ll just go along like I never existed in the first place! You ignore me and ignore me, until you need something! You all do!” By the time that Logan was even close to being finished his chest was heaving with each breath as he clutched at his inhaler, tears glistened on his eyelashes as he vehemently glared back at Roman as if he had just witnessed him kick a puppy into the street. “And I’m sick of it,” Logan hissed, taking a single step back in order to grab his backpack. “I’m not some fucking tissue for you to throw away once you’ve jacked your shit off! So..so fuck off!”

Tears rolled silently down Logan’s cheeks like an avalanche of shame, as his breathing hitched with every breath that he took.

The guilt that pummeled into Roman’s chest easily took his breath away as his fingers itched to wipe away the tears that were scattered across Logan’s cheeks like fresh salty raindrops cascading down from the sky. Was this what Logan really thought of them, of every single person who happened to come to him for help? That he was just the defacto smart kid, and that people were just there to take from him? Looking into his eyes and searching his face, Roman felt his insides wither. Logan didn’t think this about them...he knew that it was what happened.

“Lo…” The whisper that left Roman’s lips was as soft as the fresh morning dew of sunrise, reaching forward he used his sleeve to wipe away the tears that leaked down the other’s face with a gentleness that surprised even him. “I..I..” He swallowed thickly before carrying on, “I don’t hang around you because I know that you’re smart Lo, yeah you’re smart, so what? You’re my friend because you treat me like friends should. I like that we can talk openly about things and you won’t judge me, just like I don’t judge you for your obsession over jam and Sherlock. We can talk poetry until the sky turns dark, I’m your friend because you’ll listen to me rant and rave about the cute guy down the block and not talk down to me, just as I love to listen to you ramble on and on about the stars and how they got their names. I’m friends with you for a lot of reasons Logan,” Roman took a single step forward before he tightly grasped Logan’s shoulders. “But none of them are just because you’re smart, you’re a person, and as a person, I enjoy everything about you. Got it?”

Logan raked his sleeve across his cheeks as more tears poured from his eyes.

“Yeah,” He choked out, his voice hoarse and gravely as he offered Roman a simple grin that only wobbled with the coming influx of tears. “I got it.”

[jack-kellys]

thank u, next: finale part 2

(here's 1)

yeah haha imagine if I left it at that

———

words: 1806!

warnings: cursing, death, supernatural shit

———

Five, Part Two

As much as Albert knew what the fuck had just happened, he also didn't at all.

The clearest thing in his mind was that everything from the last two months had been falsified by whatever voodoo demonic (apparently) bullshit Race had put in him. Al nearly shivered just thinking about it—who knew what actions were truly his and what had been completely controlled by Race. He literally hadn't been himself for two fucking months.

On top of that, Race was one of the few people on the planet who knew his fucked up relationship history. Being so severely lied to was a slap in his face, a reminder that he couldn't trust anyone with his feelings. Race had made him forget that—forced him to, rather.

There was also this impending sense that something was coming. Al literally couldn't leave the room, the door mysteriously “locked,” and Race was suddenly tethered to the room like never before, which was more than odd—it was honestly terrifying. Something was happening today that had been triggered by Al buying the apartment, and...apparently otherworldly consequences came with it. And it seemed like those consequences were unfairly stabbing him right in the back, all thanks to Race.

But Race had...cried. He seemed apologetic, almost mournful, and at least shameful. A part of Al wanted to comfort him, run his hands through his hair and tell him everything would be okay...they were fine…

But no. Race had said it wasn’t real. Nothing had mattered. Al had been used, yet again. Race didn’t fucking care—this was just the veil of pink-tinted infatuation that had been thrown upon Al from the start. The thought made his blood boil.

He wanted to scream, or throw something, or hit something, anything to get the fire that now raged in his stomach out of him. He was hurt, upset, betrayed. He was fucking angry.

Suddenly, a small piece of something seemed to float away from Albert’s heart. It was happy and warm, but at the same time, it didn't feel like it had ever truly belonged. Good, he thought.

Fuck this. Fuck Race. Fuck whatever impending bullshit was coming to him.

He drew himself out of his thoughts at last, glaring daggers at Race. “Fuck you!” Albert screamed. “You're a lying piece of shit! I wish I never loved you, you—” Albert paused, his eyebrows scrunched together as he really looked at Race.

Red fire so bright it blazed white danced in Race’s eyes. His skin was paler, his teeth sharper as he grinned at Albert with malevolence. That wasn't Race, not exactly. That was a fucking demon.

“You're the piece of shit that made Race into a piece of shit,” Albert growled. “Fuck you especially, asshole.”

“That'd be me, yes,” the demon nodded. “I’m Antonio's curse.”

“And what do you do, exactly?” Albert asked, pointedly looking the creature up and down despite the fear running through his veins. “What am I here for?”

“Great question. Sorry Antonio didn't get to answer it for you, by the way, that must've freaked you out. He was cursed with immortality at the expense of human lives, and you...” The demon smiled slowly, revealing its fangs once again in evil excitement, “...are cursed with being one of those human lives.”

The demon’s laughter faded into the background as Albert felt his heart drop to the floor and his eyes widen in shock.

Not only had Race cursed Al to fall for him, but cursed him knowing it’d..it’d be at the expense of Albert’s life.

His head slowed down as his heart rate sped up, his vision blurring.

He was going...was he...?

Albert DaSilva was going to...to die. Because of this fucked up family, because of that fucking witch Race called a mother hellbent on revenge, because Race lied to him for two months. He was paying the ultimate price just for walking into a room.

Hot anger sizzled in his stomach again. He’d missed that feeling, he realized. Two months without it had felt wrong. Lovesick bullshit was officially over. If he was dying, Al thought bitterly, it’d be kicking and screaming.

“This is the worst break up ever, demon,” Albert spat before impulsively throwing a punch as usual.

It was short-lived, the demon catching it with lightning speed. Knives of pain shot through Albert’s arm as the demon twisted it, sending him to his knees.

“You're unbelievably like Sean,” the demon tutted, grabbing the front of Al’s shirt and lifting him into the air as Albert kicked uselessly with his legs. “Infatuation got the better of him, though. He didn't fight as hard as you.”

“Who's Sean?” Al demanded, failing to rip himself out of the demon’s hold.

“Antonio's first victim. He was special, just like you. Antonio really liked him, and you.”

“Then why the fuck did he do this to us?!”

“He was running out of time,” the demon explained boredly, like he'd done it a thousand times. “A victim only buys him a certain amount of life. He had two weeks left until his mother dragged him down to hell for 'failing' her, but then you walked in. So now he has two more years until he has to do this again.”

Albert faltered a moment at that. Could that mean that Race really didn't want to hurt him? He shook his head to rid himself of the thought. No. This curse was messing with his head. Al was just some useless part in this game; that's all he ever had been to Race.

“That doesn't change anything, asshole, I'm still innocent,” Albert growled, once again kicking at the demon.

The demon sighed. “I don't care, you stupid shit. I've done this a thousand times. You're just another life.”

Albert crashed to the ground as he was thrown across the room, but managed to get back on his feet.

And then the ground disappeared from under him.

Albert let out a gasp of shock as he fell through, arms crashing against the remaining floor and pulling himself upward as much as he could. His legs kicked in empty air beneath him.

There was a perfect circle around where he had once stood, like it had been carved from the wood floor. Even though the apartment was two stories up, there was nothing beneath him. Slightly confused, Albert tried hoisting himself out of the hole, but something tugged him back. When Al looked down to see what had touched him, his mouth dropped open in horror.

Beneath him is what he could only describe as the River Styx from the Hercules Disney movie. But this was no cartoon. A sea of groaning, ghoulish spirits swirled right under his feet, their hands reaching for him, life extinguished from their eyes. Al could feel their cold hands swipe over his ankles as he tried desperately to pull himself up a little further, anything to get away from..from that. A hand wrapped around his ankle this time, tugging harder as Al struggled to stay above the pit of literal hell beneath him.

“What the fuck,” Al breathed, heart racing. “Who are they, what are they gonna—are they-?”

“Yeah,” the demon shrugged. “Gonna drag ya down with ‘em. See, they’re just like you—poor souls simply tricked into dying. Don’t worry though, this is only part of their afterlife.” Then he laughed. “They do say some places just....suck the life outta people, right?”

Albert’s scrambling grew more frantic at that, hands clawing forward to pull himself out. He couldn’t go out like this. He was too angry for that, for the hopelessness that was overtaking him.

The thing was that...well, simply nothing was working. He couldn't seem to pull himself out, however easy it sounded; however easy it should have been. He’d try to swing his leg over, but some spirit would grab it and pull it back downward. He couldn’t kick off of anything to launch him further. Every time he inched forward, something pulled him back, down closer to whatever awaited him. He didn't know how much longer he had to do it for—or how much longer he could do it for.

“Fuck you,” Albert growled. “I’m sorry about your mom being awful, really, but this is fucked up! I didn’t do anything, please, just—“ He took a ragged breath, his head feeling lighter. This was taking a lot out of him, he realized with a jolt. He was running out of time.

“Please,” Al begged suddenly, gazing up with wide fearful eyes at the demon, “you don’t have to do this. I didn’t do anything, please, oh my god, please just let me go.” Albert weakly battled with the ledge again, letting himself be pulled down a little further when he failed to make any ground. He had been at it for hours by now, and it was just...so draining. His arms were burning, heavy, and clearly useless. They needed a rest. He needed a rest. He wanted to stop so badly, just a little break…

No. NO. Al tried to focus his thoughts. He couldn't die. He just couldn't—he had things to live for, he had a show in a week. He attempted to push himself harder, strain himself just a bit more.

“You can’t do this,” Al argued, vaguely aware of how small his voice sounded. “Please, I’m begging you, please...just...let me...”

Just let me stop, Al thought. All he wanted to do was stop, just rest a moment, that was it. His arms wobbled as he once again tried to drag himself forward. Nothing. Useless. He was all tired out, the ability to fight flickering away. He was so, so tired. Tired of fighting, tired of thinking, tired of...being awake. He just felt exhausted, heavy, and...done.

He lifted his head slightly, unfocused eyes landing on what still looked like Race. “I did love you, y’know,” he managed to mumble, before his head lolled back down.

Albert let out a small groan as his eyes fluttered closed involuntarily. Maybe just a little rest, he thought distantly, ...just a second without a fight...no fighting...

Distantly, he felt himself being tugged down, cold arms and hands grabbing at his legs and torso, but he couldn’t resist their pull. It was almost inviting, his body finally getting the break it deserved. He wanted to fight, wanted to kick and scream and curse, but his exhaustion was too strong, too much. Albert almost thought he could hear it whisper to him, coaxing him to simply let himself fall asleep, just sleep, Albert. Don't fight. Don't fight it. The vague thought of giving into the calm felt so good, so easy, so final in his foggy brain.

And then, Albert did. He slipped.

His mind stopped any thoughts of resistance as his grip slackened, sleep overtaking him as the spirits dragged him down, the Higgins family claiming their latest victim at last.

———

okay that's it! we're done thank you all for reading I spent a lot of time with this series–

okay I'm joking!! there's gonna be an epilogue ;)

TAG LIST

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[patton-croc-agenda]

Claws and Effect Ch.3

A/N: YikES sorry this is kinda late children! I’ve been super busy lately and I’ve been writing a bunch of different things. The next chapter should take less time then this one did hopefully.

First: Chapter 1

Previous: Chapter 2

Next: Chapter 4 (TBA)

Summary: Becoming the superhero Morality wasn’t exactly Patton’s first choice of career, but he liked to think he’d been handling it well enough- balancing his alter ego and regular day job at his cousin’s cafe. That is, until a familiar face walks into Sanders Delights, and a mysterious new villain appears soon after.

Pairings: Logicality

Words: 2,787

Warnings: Mentions of memory loss, near hit and run, mentions of previous violence

Emile Picani was a licensed therapist, which meant he had to deal with a lot of...well, a lot of everything. Sometimes, listening to the problems of his patients weighed on him. On such days, he would drive to the edge of town with his windows rolled down, blasting his favorite cartoon soundtracks as he went.

Today was one of those days. He’d packed himself into his car and set out down his usual road- the one that led down winding country roads flanked by trees that dappled his car in shadows. He hummed along to “Love Like You” from the Steven Universe soundtrack today, feeling the stress ease away and contentment take its place.

His gaze flicked to the side- momentarily watching the trees before his eyes returned to the road. Well, that was the intention. Instead, Emile saw something fairly large and very human in the grass by the road. He slammed on the brakes, skidding to a stop and adjusting his rearview mirror. Sure enough, the grass beside the road rustled, and a child who couldn’t be any older then ten at the very most popped out. They looked around, expression growing sad, before they wandered back a little further, prying the grass apart. Emile couldn’t see their face, but judging by the way their shoulder drooped, they hadn’t been successful in finding whatever it was they were looking for.

Emile pulled over to the side of the road and parked his car, hopping out and carefully heading towards the child. His thoughts swirling as he contemplated ways to comfort the poor thing if need be.

“Hello there!” He called a greeting. The child looked up and their face brightened. They rushed him, wrapping their tiny arms around his waist in a hug. Emile was a bit taken aback, but he only paused a moment before returning the hug. They stood like that for a moment before the child pulled back, looking confused and downright upset. Now, that wouldn’t do!

“You aren’t Virgil,” they said. Emile blinked.

“Fraid not! My name is Emile. Emile Picani. What’s your name?” He tried to keep his tone cheerful. The child beamed.

“My name is Roman!” he squeaked confidently.

“Well, Roman, it’s so super wonderful to meetcha! Now, who is this Virgil you’re looking for? Your brother?” Roman’s nose scrunched up, a thoughtful expression flitting onto his face.

“I dunno. I know he’s my friend...and I know he’s seven, like me! But I don’t remember anything else.” Emile’s brow furrowed in concern, and he crouched down to eye level with Roman.

“Is there anything else you remember at all? Not necessarily about Virgil. Just in general?” Roman’s nose somehow got even more scrunched.

“No,” Roman said, eyes flicking to the side. Emile felt a spike of deep concern at the admission. ‘So he doesn’t remember his parents? How odd- perhaps he’s had some sort of injury? Or perhaps-’ his train of thought cut off as a tiny hand gripped at his sleeve.

“Can you help me find Virgil, please mister? I need to find him,” Roman plead, eyes shining with unshed tears. Emile was unsure. He knew he had to do something, though he knew, logically, that something would be to take Roman to the police so they could help find his family. Strangely enough, that thought seemed to make Roman grip his sleeve tighter.

“Okay. Okay, I’ll help ya!” Emile straightened up and offered his hand to the boy. Roman beamed brightly and took it.

~~~~~

Virgil didn’t like stealing. It left a horrible, twisting feeling in his guts and a pit in the center of his stomach. He wondered if he’d ever stolen in his old life- the life he couldn’t remember. He hoped not.

He took deep, calming breaths as he slowly laced up the boots. The shoes he’d woken up in had been fine at first, but after walking for miles his feet had begun to ache. These boots were made for walking, so Vigil hoped he wouldn’t need to...borrow a new pair any time soon. Boots fully on, he turned to face himself in the mirror. They actually looked nice, and in other circumstances, maybe Virgil would be excited to wear them. But right here, right now, it felt like concrete weighing down his feet.

Virgil shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets, fingers brushing against the wrapper of the sandwich he’d taken earlier. He’d held off on eating all of it, because the churning guilt in his tummy had him thinking he’d barf if he tried to eat any more. He looked himself in the eyes, grey meeting grey. Then, he closed them, and took one more deep inhale. He focused, feeling the tingling pins and needles all through his body before the sensation slowly faded, and Virgil cracked open his eyes.

His gaze was no longer reflected back at him. Virgil moved a bit, making sure that he was completely gone. He was- good. Virgil picked up his old shoes, watching them seemingly float in the mirror, before he shoved them under his hoodie and they vanished from view. He’d figure out how to dispose of them once he got out of here. He unlocked the door to the changing room, and pushed it open, peering out. No one around except a rather bored employee playing on his phone nearby. Virgil forced his breathing to grow light and shallow as he slipped past the door and into the rest of the store.

It only took him a few moments to figure out how to best adjust his weight in the new shoes so he didn’t make a sound as he slid right past the employee out into the early evening. The sun was slowly beginning to set, oozing red-orange-pinks across the concrete and city streets. Cars sped past, and Virgil watched them warily. He looked around before focusing again, holding his hands in front of himself and watching as they slowly phased back into reality. He flexed his fingers and shoved the guilt down deep, deep inside him. That wasn’t important right now.

Virgil began to stride down the sidewalk, new boots thudding in a steady pattern. Virgil’s eyes scanned every nook, every cranny, every corner he could as he walked past. This mission felt impossible, but he’d figure it out. He had to. He had to get his memories back, and more importantly.

He had to find Roman.

~~~~~

“Did you find him?” Roman asked. Emile got to his feet again, drenched in sweat and covered in grass stains. He’d spent the entire day attempting to help Roman find his missing friend, but no matter how much they looked there were no signs of life aside from a deer who had been startled by their search and bounded away.

“‘Fraid not,” Emile said, leaning against his car. At one point, Roman had grown exhausted, so Emile let him sit in the passenger seat with the door open, and the little boy would direct where he hadn’t searched quite thoroughly enough yet. Upon hearing the bad news, the child’s whole posture seemed to droop.

It was getting late; Emile could see the sun sinking in the distance. He decided maybe he should take Roman to the police so they could get him placed in a foster home, but Roman suddenly lunged from the car, gripping Emile’s legs.

“Nonononono!” He squeaked, “Don’t let anyone take me away! I’ll never find Virgil if I have to move to another city!” Emile looked at the quivering child and sighed, wondering how he’d known what he’d been thinking. He ignored the curiosity in favor of smoothing Roman’s hair back.

“Now now, it’s gonna be okay!” Emile reassured. He felt like taking Roman to the station or even a hospital would be the responsible thing to do...but the shaking, sobbing desperate child melted Emile’s heart.

“Tell ya what,” Roman looked up at him with wide, wet eyes. “You come home with me tonight, and I’ll continue to help you look for Virgil when we’re both all rested up, okay?” Roman sniffed and nodded, weakly slumping against Emile’s legs. The man smiled and scooped up the boy, situating him back into the passenger seat and buckling him in before heading over to the driver’s side himself. He strapped himself in an turned the radio on as he began the car. Roman sleepily nodded his head along with the song, making Emile laugh. What a cutie, this one.

“M’not.”

“Pardon?” Emile asked, heading down the road. He glanced over briefly, but Roman was already asleep. The man sighed and shook his head, setting his sights for home.

~~~~~

“Patton? Earth to Patty Patt,” Patton jumped as Remy knocked a fist lightly against his skull. Worry lightly zinged across his skin, and Patton laughed sheepishly and rubbed the back of his curls.

“Sorry, Rem, I’m just worried about Logan is all,” Patton aggressively scrubbed the counter. It had been two days since the attack on the lab, and while Patton had hoped Logan would text him, there was no such luck. Remy pursed his lips and glanced over at their other new hire, Helen. She was busy chatting with an older woman about the weather as she prepared her coffee, so she was blissfully oblivious to the brothers’ conversation.

“I wouldn’t worry too much,” Remy assured. He skirted around Patton to set up more cups in an intricate display. Patton was distantly aware of the bell above the door jingling as he added, “He’s in the hospital now and I doubt he’ll...be...out...soon…” Remy’s words seemed to fail him as he stared towards the door. Patton whipped around and, Lo and behold.

“Logan?!” Patton squeaked, dashing around the counter and grabbing the man’s arms, looking him up and down with a fuss. “What are you doing here? You should be resting!” Logan gently tugged his arms away and sighed.

“Hello, Patton. As much as your concern is appreciated, it is not required. I was at the hospital overnight, but they could find no issues and thus no reason to keep me there. I would have visited yesterday, but I did decide to stay home an extra day as to not stain myself...just in case.” Patton’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he opened his mouth to ask about that internal bleeding before he remembered that Patton wouldn’t know about that. Morality was the one who saved Logan, not him.

“Speaking of. How did you know I was caught in an accident anyway?” Logan asked, narrowing his eyes. Patton jolted back and started the laugh maniacally.

“Oh, yes, erm, it- I,” Patton stammered, but Remy swooped in to save him (bless his heart).

“It’s on the news, fam,” he quipped, pointing up at the television where the smoking remains of the lab were shown. Logan winced and nodded slowly.

“I see...but yes, I had close contact with the villain, and I assumed I was injured, but the doctors have informed me otherwise. I am fine to go about my day.” Patton nodded, a bit relieved, and slipped back behind the counter.

“So what are you planning to do for work?” Remy asked. Logan sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, they’re talking about transferring me to the sister lab, but they want to get some things rearranged and set up. So for a few weeks, I’ll probably be working from home on my laptop. I don’t work today, though. Getting caught and nearly killed by a supervillain is apparently enough to have work canceled for a few days.” Patton snorted and slapped a hand over his mouth as Logan gave him a funny look.

“Sorry...it was just a funny joke,” Patton said, recalling at the near death experiences he’s had to brush off to work early morning shifts.

“It wasn’t a joke,” Logan’s face twitched down at the corners, but Patton couldn’t feel past that ball of static that was Logan’s emotions to tell whether or not he had actually been offended.

“Sorry,” he offered, just in case. Logan shrugged. He hadn’t been offended, he simply did not understand Patton’s particular brand of humor. He was surprised, however, when the bubbly man passed him a cup of coffee.

“I haven’t even ordered yet,” Logan commented, arching an eyebrow at Patton, who shrugged.

“It’s on the house. I bet you’ll like it,” Patton tapped him on the nose, causing Logan to feel his face heat up. He took a tentative sip, and a flurry of flavors hit his tongue. It was quite different from his usual order of plain black coffee, but not necessarily in a bad way. He found himself smiling despite himself, and looked up at rather shy looking Patton.

“Thank you...it’s delicious,” Logan mumbled, taking another sip.

“You know what would taste even better?” Remy asked, propping himself up on his elbows, “Pa-” Patton immediately slapped a hand over Remy’s mouth and pulled him into a headlock.

“SORRY IGNORE HIM ENJOY YOUR COFFEEANDYOURDAYOKAYBYE!” Patton yanked Remy into the back room, and Logan blinked slowly. His confused attention was drawn away from the door where Patton and Remy had disappeared to the sound of a soft chuckle. The origin of the laugh was the woman with short blonde hair who was working as well, and Logan brightened a bit upon seeing her.

“Helen. I’m glad to see your interview went well,” Logan greeted. He’d met the woman the day previous, when she accidentally bumped into him and spilt his coffee. She had apologized profusely and even offered to pay Logan back for the spilled drink before he pointed her in the direction of the cafe, as she was supposed to be there for an interview.

“It did,” she agreed, writing a name on a cup and setting it down gracefully. “Then again, they hired Remy, so I don’t believe their standards are that high.”

“HEY!” Remy popped his head out from the back room. “Watch it Missy!” She scoffed, and Patton yanked his brother back into the safety of the back room. Logan chuckled and held up his coffee with a nod.

“Well, tell Patton I said thank you for the coffee, would you?” Helen nodded, and Logan strode from the cafe. The weather was rather nice- sunny and warm with a slight breeze. It was a strange contrast to the dread slowly pooling in his stomach. Things Deceit had said stuck to his mind, leaving him troubled and antsy. ‘You’re only human...for now.’

That was the most prominent of them. It haunted him like a shadow as he walked. As if any moment he would fall over, writhing in agony, and proceed to go through a painful transformation into some hellbeast.

He didn’t. He kept walking down the street, slowly sipping his coffee as he grew lost in thought. Though, despite being mostly lost in his mind, Logan found his gaze wandering to the bright blue blur of a speeding car. He scoffed at their recklessness, but it turned to horror as he noted they weren’t planning to stop.

There was a child in the crosswalk.

Most people assume that heroes will move before they think; Logan did the opposite. His brain kicked into overdrive- he knew he’d never make it in time. Calling out would be pointless, the child was already staring up in terror at the car growing closer. All Logan could do was thrust out an arm. He imagined he were there, shoving the child out of harm’s way.

To his shock, the child flew back out of the way, landing on their backside a little ways away from the car. The maniac didn���t even stop as they rushed past, causing the child’s hair to ruffle in the wind left behind. Logan hurried over to the child now that the danger was gone, helping them to their feet.

“Are you-” Logan began, but the child looked at him, grey eyes full of confusion.

“You pushed me.” The child said, voice wary and hesitant, yet intrigued.

“I...no, impossible. I was over there I couldn’t-” the child shook their head, stepping back.

“You pushed me…” they repeated it again. They took another step back, and their brows furrowed thoughtfully. Logan watched as they shakily pulled what looked like a shoe from under their hoodie. They threw it at Logan, but he managed to dodge it.

“What the-” He turned, another shoe was flying towards his face. He held up a hand, bracing for the impact, but it never came. When he opened his eyes, the shoe was hovering in front of his face, and the child was gone.

General Writing Taglist:  @angeliclogan @pattons-constellations@amuthefunperson@tatergator27@honeycoloredcorduroy@1esor2 @that-royal-ravenclaw@sardonicsanders@iridescentroyalty@sheeparecutest @pathos-logical @virge-of-a-breakdown@doodlesxkiwi@hungry-red-panda @peachy-patton @thesynysterunknown @dragonsight9 @blitzgamev @thatpinkpony59 @draonsight9 @why-should-i-tell-youu

[lighteyed]

over the phone — p.p.

summary : the things peter’s said to you over the phone. [ part one in a series based on these prompts ] 

word count : 2.5k

author’s note :  slow burn mutual pining romances are my fuckin favorite thing to write!!! feedback is much appreciated please and thank you!!! sorry this is all in lowercase i forgot to not write in lowercase lol.... hmu if you wanna be tagged in this or in anything i write in general :) love you guys 4ever n ever

there’s this strange silence that fills your bedroom, and it’s like water sloshing over the rim of a bathtub when you leave the faucet on for a beat too long. you feel it before he says it, on the phone with a voice crack that effectively shatters the innocence and naivety of your fourteen year old universe. you’re fourteen and pressing your finger against his contact name in your phone at eleven pm on a tuesday night. you have an algebra test in the morning and freshman year is kicking your ass, but that’s nothing compared to peter. peter is the one doing the ass kicking, he’s so smart and the world will hear his resounding brilliance one day, but he feels tonight like a thousand needles pricking his soft, sunflower heart as if the world has forgotten that it’s supposed to be nice to kids as inherently kind as peter parker.

you call him first because you know he won’t make the move to reach out. he’s not the sort of person who desires to draw attention in this light, he doesn’t want to keep you up late, either, because he’s peter and peter is the embodiment of nice. too nice for his own good, maybe. too nice to call his best friend first on the night his uncle dies right in front of him, too nice to clamber down the hall to the elevator and take it up to your floor so you can slip out the door, clutch him against your chest the way he wants you to. you call him and at first he stares blankly at the phone vibrating harshly on the wooden desk he sits in front of. he’s on his swivel chair and his face his flushed an awful shade of red. his throat burns, head hurts. he wants to submerge his head underwater until he’s gasping for air the way he has been all night, but he wants his uncle to be the one to yank him from everything weighing down on his chest. he can’t get what he wants, though. so he picks up the phone, holds it to his ear, and listens simultaneously to the quiet sigh you exhale once he picks up and may’s quiet crying in the other room. he wants to comfort her, but he’s shaking from what he’s seen and felt in the last six hours and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to tell his aunt that everything will be okay when he’s not even sure of that. a few minutes of pure nothingness pass by between you, but then peter says it, small voiced and miserable. “i- i was out and- and uncle ben, he, he tried and i was so stupid because i shouldn’t have gone over there but i did and- and uncle ben is dead.” there’s a sniffle, you can hear peter shudder, and the phone call goes dead because he refuses to let you hear him sob his eyes out like he’s about to.

so, you go to him instead. and you walk into the house that’s been your other home for awhile now, the house abound with joy and light and love now sickeningly silent save for the cries of your- well, your peter, that he tries to muffle into a pillow. you walk in without knocking, but he sees you and forgets that his eyes are puffy and his face is wet. he doesn’t forget everything, but he forgets enough. he hugs you, he bunches your sweater in his fists and he holds you to him as tight as he can without hurting you. he’s never needed someone so badly. if he can’t have both you and ben, he’ll take just you with a sad smile and he’ll bear it. for you, for may, for himself. peter shuts his eyes. he thinks about the spider bite. this won’t happen again.

you skip your algebra test.

phone calls are a staple in your relationship with peter. no one else can seem to process the way you love talking to him with the phone held between your shoulder and your cheek as opposed to texting or using snapchat. you say that you and peter can do all of that and talk on the phone. why one or the other? why not both? why not all? there’s nothing better than the sound of his voice when you can’t physically be with him, and it’s been this way for so long that you can’t imagine it differently. he calls you every night, has ever since you were fourteen and you failed algebra and he lost his (other) favorite person and you both felt the hurt that this world really slams you with. but most of the time, everything is okay.

everything’s okay until he calls you one morning- though, the term morning can be used loosely, considering it’s really three am and you’re sleeping in preparation for your chemistry final that’s been looming over your head for the past month and a half. he’s well aware that the test is tomorrow, he’s been helping you prepare with a fervor only someone as passionate about science as peter could bring forth, but he needs to tell you this and he needs to tell you know rather than later. if he neglects to tell you now, he reasons as he taps your name on his recent calls list, he’ll forget to tell you the following day at school, and by the time he remembers he won’t want to say it anymore-

 “pete? it’s three in the morning! is everything okay are you hurt is may hurt what’s going on-” you pause for a breath, already fumbling with your covers. he hears the thump of your body hitting the floor through the one, but only because of the enhanced hearing he harbors. he pictures, clear as day in his mind because he’s seen it for himself a ridiculous amount of times, your body twisting around in your covers until you fall completely off your bed. he smiles- widely, happily, unapologetically adoring-  at the image when your voice floats back up through the speakers. “i feel like you’re laughing, and i’m not in the mood, parker, i’m telling you right now. i have chem in the morning! this better be majorly important, or else your ass is grass.”

 “shut up for a second, steve harrington,” he teases, playing with the signature red mask that he holds tightly in his grip. the nickname will make you grin like a maniac. at the sound of steve’s name, the bubblegum pink cartoon hearts swirl dreamily around the top of your head. your best friend has seen that reaction firsthand. “i have something to tell you. i wanna get it off my chest, before i chicken out and refuse to tell you again for the next…” he estimates how long he’s been spider-man in his head, chalks it up to about ten months, “ten months.”

 “that’s specific,” you say, perched on the edge of your bed with one foot lodged halfway into your sneaker and the other tucked underneath you. you leave your shoe on. you have a feeling you’re going to need to make a hasty departure. “well, you can tell me anything, peter. you know that by now.”

 “well, here’s something you don’t know.” he squeezes the mask in his fist, then spreads it out on his lap. stares down at it as he says, “i’m spider-man. I’ve been spider-man since the day after ben died. and i’m out right now, on a spider-man patrol, because i try to stop the bad guys before they can get to anyone else. so there. now you know.”

you don’t say anything just yet. you let the information simmer as you hang off your bed with one shoe on and one shoe off, your mouth slightly open. when you can finally gather enough coherency in your thoughts to form a sentence, you simply state, “you’re fucking shitting me, peter benjamin parker. this is a joke.”

he gulps, you can’t hear it, and he runs a hand through his sweat matted, curling hair. he puffs out his cheeks, exhales, then says to you, “i’m on top of our building. come up. please. ‘cause i really, really need you to believe me.” he needs someone to know, and if it’s going to be anyone, it’s going to be you. you’re already in the elevator by the time he’s ending his sentence.

when you get up there, he’s got his knees pulled up to his chest and his mask down over his head. you’d say you weren’t sure if the figure sitting there was peter, but you’d be lying. the body language, withdrawn, nervous, hiding in himself, was entirely him. he’s looking out at the city, gaze stretching past queens all the way into manhattan. peter feels your shoulder bump against his as you sit down, mimicking his stance, but staring at him instead of the view. that had to be symbolic, right? he brushes away the thought. that was a worry for a different day. this was today’s worry. he yanks the mask from over his head, hair flopping back down over his head in messy ways that make your heart skip, a pebble flicked into a pond. big brown eyes belonging to the softest boy you know search your face for any semblance of a reaction akin to anger, confusion, sadness, worry. instead, he finds that same old safe smile and two arms reaching out to hug him. not what he had anticipated, but he’d be damned if he pushed you away.

you hadn’t wanted to display your true worry on your face for the world to see- you knew the world wasn’t watching, but it certainly felt that way- so you said it quietly, kindly, in his ear. “god, peter, imagine if you had died or something. what would i have done? i would’ve brought you back to life and then killed you again, that’s what i would’ve done. me and may. we would’ve obliterated you, and then brought you back to life to ground you because you’re so headstrong and stupid sometimes. you dumb hero. i hate you.” but you say all of this with your head on his shoulder and your arms around his waist, no intention of letting go in the near future.

“may and i,” he corrects affectionately, sliding his fingers through your hair. “ i’m sorry. i’m telling you now, because i-” he stops, he takes a deep breath, he starts again, “because i wanted you to know. you deserved to know.”

you skip your chem test. your best friend is spider-man, and he can swing between buildings with a thin web and he saves bicycles from thieves and old ladies give him free food sometimes. chem doesn’t matter (at least for right now).

he’s staring out his window with his phone up to his ear. you’re not on the other end, not yet. you will be in a few minutes, at your scheduled talking time that you’d set what feels like a million years ago. you’re still just fifteen. it’s two months later, though, and he’s been spider-man for a year now. sometimes, you think about how peter had to trudge through freshman year with a dead uncle and a new identity, but it’s been a year and you’re sophomores now and things are a little different even if they’re mostly the same. he’s giving himself another pep talk, assisted by may an hour ago, and he’s going to say it to you like he’s been saying it his entire life. y/n, i love you. he’s going to say it like a boyfriend, a soulmate, a true love for the person who has been by his side through everything for as long as he can remember. he’s going to say it, scream it, whisper it, whatever he has to do to get it done.

peter calls you, he puts the phone back in its original position, and he waits with his foot tapping loudly against the clanging black metal of the fire escape. “heyyy, peter parker,” you sing into the phone after you pick up, pushing yourself away from your desk and dropping your pen onto the filled up loose leaf paper. you twirl a strand of hair between your fingers in a daydream like fashion. you can’t help it. he’s a daydream and a half, a whole fantasy world of his own, and you’re in too deep to break the surface of the water. “out saving queens like my favorite superhero?”

“spidey’s taking a break for a few hours,” he says, kicking his shoes off and propping them up on his bed frame. he’s still staring out the window, the sky glowing pink in anticipation of the sunset.

“oh, i meant iron man, but you’re cool,” you grin when you hear his loud scoff. you spin around in your chair when he starts laughing a little.

“mr. stark is gonna love you when you meet him, you’re lodged so far up his ass,” he snarks back lovingly, knowing he’s equally as fascinated with the man behind the iron suit. maybe even more so. he’s on the verge of running of a fan club, and he knows it. he clears his throat. “anyways, i’ve gotta tell you something.”

“again?” you huff, rubbing your hand over your eyes. “my heart can’t take the stress, peter. you’ve dropped massive atomic freaking bombs on me every time you’ve said those words! what is it, this time? another trip to europe so you can go battle with the avengers without me? tell me before i die from the anticipation.” peter runs a thumb over his mouth. maybe you’d kiss him one day, if he said it now, if he stopped being so scared. he wanted you to kiss him. and it was a terrible, terrible want. he shuts his eyes. to him, it’s like shutting his eyes prevents him from being terrified anymore.

“i just wanted you to know that you’re my best friend, in the world.” in other words, i love you. he holds the phone away from his mouth so he can scream into the nearest pillow without you hearing. of course he’s too embarrassed, too scared to face rejection. he can fight captain america and go head to head with the winter soldier, he can deck the bad guys in the face on the street corners in queens with ease and grace, he can face flash the ass and his stupid insults every day of his life, but he can’t tell you he’s in love you and he hates himself just a little bit because of it. “so, yeah, that’s it. felt like you needed a reminder. so, i’m here, reminding you. my best friend.” he reiterates the term so much it starts to irritate you, and you grip the phone so hard your hand pales from the pressure.

“got it. you’re my best friend, too, peter. thanks for the reminder. i should go study… for uh, you know, spanish. i’m gonna let you go. see you tomorrow?” peter’s frown mirrors yours despite being in two seperate places, and you disconnect the call without waiting for a response. your heart feels a little heavier, and you hate the reason why. 

he leans his head back against the windowsill. he’d tell you differently, he decides, instead of over the phone like a seventh grader. he’d be better. he didn’t want this to just be another one of the things he says over the phone.

you skip school the next day.

tags : @hufflepuffholland @parkerroos @starparker @nedandpeter @gingerbreadparker @iusethistoreadfanfics @skymoonandstardust @prettylilparker @pbpz @warcriminalrogers @tiny-friggin-human @heartfrost @gentlethunderstorm @lunastarwatcher @brittyblogs @fairydustparker @emmaaolsen @xwinterromanxff @ravenclaws-say-caw @buckysmaingirl @idioticnerd24 @the-crime-fighting-spider @quacksontommy @handsomeholland @tomarvelicious @fluffyavengers @wavy-ley @radicalstars @itsssmichelleee @nedslaptop @stephie-senpai @fullwizardstrawberry @mossyfeet @sophia1644 @spideytattoo @peterplanet

[youcancallmeelle]

Pleasant Surprise // Hungry Eyes prompt: Part 2 of 2

Read Hungry Eyes and the other prompts here

Part 1 of Pleasant Surprise here

There weren’t many things in life that bothered me as much as seeing my little girl upset, especially with her own Dad being the reason for her current state of heartbreak.

Freya had a play to mark the end of her first year of Kindergarten, Jodie and myself were the only people who attended to watch her; Sweet Pea and Fangs had promised they’d meet us from the Whyte Wyrm to the school at exactly 4pm.

But, they hadn’t turned up.

So, when Freya had come bounding on to the small stage with her class, looking out into the small audience and seeing the empty space next to me where her Daddy was supposed to be; her face dropped and her bottom lip quivered.

I was angry with him, beyond livid at his carelessness but I hid my feelings and waited with Jodie for Freya to come out and meet us in the foyer.

“Where the hell are they, Jodie? He promised he’d meet me here, as did your boyfriend!” I hissed at her, she shook her head sadly and looked at her phone.

“Fangs hasn’t text me back, I’ve rang him too and Sweet Pea.” She sighed, dropping her arm to her side.

“I can’t believe him, he missed his daughters own play to stay at that god forsaken bar!” I exclaimed, looking at my own phone and resisting the urge to leave a very unsavoury voicemail on Sweets phone.

“Rosie!” Jodie bumped my side, her eyes flickering behind me where I followed her gaze and saw Freya trudge out into the foyer with her head down.

She looked up briefly and spotted me, running over to where Jodie and I were stood. I plastered a big smile on my face and engulfed her in my arms, she hugged my baby bump tightly.

“You did so good, baby girl!” I exclaimed cheerfully, bending down as best I could to kiss her head. “Auntie Jodie and I are so proud of you!”

“Where’s Daddy? Why isn’t he here with Uncle Fangs?” She immediately asked me and pouted, her brown eyes filled with despair at the abscence of the man she idolised with all her might.

I peered at Jodie who was biting her lip and I swallowed, trying to come up with an excuse that would hopefully satisfy her until Sweet Pea could explain himself.

“I’m not sure, baby. Maybe he’s had to stay back for something, work stuff.” I smiled and pushed her fringe back, taking her little hand in mine as the three of us left her school and entered the car park.

“Still no answer.” Jodie told me as she pulled her phone from her ear, walking beside me to her car; she’d driven me here due to it being a hard task for myself with a bump in the way of a steering wheel.

“He’s dead meat, Jodie. Just you wait unitl I get my hands on him, he won’t live to see tomorrow.” I assured her, my lips curving into a snarl at the heart wrenching sight of my baby clutching on to the edge of my floral dress with her head resting on my hip as she watched all the other Father’s with their kids.

I was just about to help Freya in to the car seat in the back of Jodie’s SUV when the familiar sight of Sweet Pea’s beloved Jeep rolled into the car park, he parked up opposite us and hopped out hastily with Fangs where they rushed to make their way over to us.

“Where the hell have you been? You missed it!” I seethed, holding Freya close to me as he attempted to kneel and speak to her but she shoved him away while moving to my other side.

“Hey, Daddy’s here.” He tried to soothe her but she wasn’t having it, she reached her arms up for me and I hoisted her up, holding her to my hip and ignoring the strain on my back. “I got caught up with stuff, Rosie.”

“It’s not good enough, Sweet Pea. How on earth was this stuff more important than watching your daughter finish her first year of school? You both told her that you’d be there and I expected nothing less!” I fumed at Sweet Pea and Fangs, they looked immensely guilty and I shook my head. “Come on, let’s get you home.” I murmured to Freya whose face was hidden in my neck, adjusting her on my hip and hugging Jodie goodbye with my free arm, making my way over to the Jeep as Fangs hopped in with Jodie.

“You shouldn’t be carrying anything heavy, let me take her.” He tried, holding his arms out for Freya to move into but she only clung on harder to me.

“You’ve upset her, Sweets. You should have seen her face when she saw you weren’t there, it’s something I won’t forget for a long time.” I told him, opening the back door for Freya to climb into her seat and helping secure the belt around her with a peck on her nose.

I ignored Sweet Pea’s pleas for forgiveness and got into the car, slamming the door and folding my arms over my chest as he got in too and started the engine.

“Rosie, I’m honestly so sorry. I didn’t realise the time, we got caught up with some business that Jughead needed sorting.” Sweet Pea began to explain, I sighed and looked back at our daughter as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“It’s not me you need to say sorry to, Sweets.” I spoke quietly and he looked in the rear view mirror at Freya, she was looking out of the window with the most defeated expression.

“Hey, baby girl. Do you fancy going to the park for a little while?” He asked her, she shook her head and continued to watch the passing scenery.

He exhaled and frowned at the rejection, but he reached across the console and rested one large hand against my rounded tummy, I placed my own on top his and he felt his second daughter move against his palm.

“You do know I didn’t purposely miss it, right?” He questioned, his eyes briefly leaving the road to take in my disappointed expression and demeanour.

“Don’t ask me, Sweet Pea.”

         **************************************************************************

Freya was perched next to me on our kitchen side as I prepared some vegetables for dinner, she was watching some cartoons on my phone.

Any other day, she’d be playing with Sweets or even having a snuggle with him while they watched TV and waited for me to finish making dinner.

But right now, she was unusually clingy towards me and hadn’t left my side since we’d arrived home. This was weird because she was the biggest Daddy’s girl and had been from the moment she was born, it was a massive giveaway that Sweet Pea missing her play had really got to her.

I finished putting the chopped veggies in a pan with some pasta and sauce, turning the heat down low as I turned my attention to Freya.

I pulled the hair tie from her dark locks and redid her ponytail, pushing her fringe from her face so it no longer covered her beautiful eyes.

“Why don’t you go see if Daddy wants to watch some cartoons with you?” I suggested and kissed her temple, peering across the apartment to see Sweet Pea sat on the couch with a blank expression.

“I like it here.” She replied, resting her head against my chest and shoving a thumb in her mouth while she continued to hold my phone.

Sweet Pea looked over at us and I shrugged, he’d tried to get her to speak to him the whole journey home but she’d either ignored him or given him one word answers.

If there was one thing that got to him more than me being angry or upset at him, it was when his little girl was hurt and he was the reason for it.

When I began to plate up dinner Freya moved her plate over to the space next to me and away from her Dad, she sat quietly and picked at her food as I spoke to Sweet Pea about some stuff that needed to be done before we welcomed the new baby.

Freya finished her dinner way before us and just sat quietly with my phone watching My Little Pony as we ate our pasta, she let out a yawn and her eyes drooped.

“You need a bath before bed, sweetheart.” I told her while collecting the finished plates up and putting them in our dishwasher, also wiping over the table. “Go and let Daddy run you a bath.”

“But Momma, I want you to give me a bath.” She refused and Sweet Pea let out another sigh, taking the cloth from my hands.

“Go give her a bath, I’ll finish up here.” He croaked and began to wipe down the side, I nodded and held my hand out for Freya to take her to the bathroom.

“Do I have to have my hair washed?” Freya pondered and got undressed as I began to fill the tub, pulling my own hair into a high ponytail and out of my face.

“Not today, I washed it yesterday.”

“Yay!” She exclaimed and began to climb into the tub with my help, sitting down in the collection of bubbles and contentedly splashing around.

I lowered myself to the bathroom floor awkwardly, getting to the ground seemed like an olympic sport at week thirty of pregnany and I rested my chin on the edge of the bath as I swirled my hand in the tub.

“You know, your Daddy is sad that you’re not talking to him.” I told her quietly, she shrugged and played with the rubber duck in her palm.

“I’m sad that Daddy didn’t come to my play, he promised he’d be there.”

“I know he did, but he didn’t intentionally miss it.” I defended and began to help her get soaped up, she blew a handful of bubbles in my direction. “He just let time get away from him and Uncle Fangs, we’ve all done it.”

“Mommy?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Do you think Daddy will forget about me when the new baby comes?” She questioned with a crack in her voice, I halted my actions.

It was then that I realised that Freya’s distress was about more than just Sweet Pea not going to her leavers play, it was about her new little sister too and she was obviously feeling left out.

I knew that it would be a big adjustment to her, especially since she’d been an only child for five years and we’d both babied her so much. However, all that was about to change and we’d be sharing love for not one child, but another too.

“Why would you think that? Your Daddy’s going to love you and your little sister equally, but you know you’ll always be his special princess.”

“But if Daddy’s forgetting about me now, then it’ll be worse once you have my little sister and then you both won’t love me as much anymore.” She whimpered, her bottom lip quivered.

“Baby, you know that’s not true.” I denied, holding her face between my hands and kissing her cheeks. “You’re the first person that Mommy loved after meeting Daddy, that’s pretty special.”

“Do you promise you won’t forget about me, Mommy?”

“How could I?! I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Momma.” Freya said and pecked my lips, putting her wet hands on my own cheeks.

I completed the task of giving Freya a nice bath to settle her down for bed and got her dressed in some beautiful, baby pink pyjamas that I knew Sweet Pea loved.

I finished brushing her almost black hair and tied it in a tiny bun for her because she hated it in her face, she clung onto my neck sleepily before I pushed her back to look at her exhausted expression.

“I think you should go give your Daddy a big kiss and cuddle, he’s suffered enough.” I suggested and she thought about it hard for a second before nodding enthusiastically at my idea.

We left her bedroom and made our way through our apartment to the lounge and she dropped my hand and ran over to where Sweets was laying on the couch, she clambered onto his frame and lay down with her head on his chest.

He looked shocked and dazed, but didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around his little princess who seemed to have forgiven him.

“I love you so much and Daddy’s really sorry for missing your play, he never meant to.” Sweet Pea reassured her and peppered her cheeks in kisses, she let out a musical giggle.

“I love you too, Daddy.”

I grinned at the sight before me and plopped myself on the couch next to them, watching as Freya’s eyes closed within minutes of settling against him.

I immediately had flashbacks to when she was first born and he’d spend hours with her on his chest, easily holding her there as he slept himself or even if he was just sat in our trailer.

“This is my favourite thing.” He sighed happily and squeezed his sleeping daughter, kissing her head.

“Make the most of it, I doubt she’ll be wanting cuddles from her Daddy when she’s sixteen and stroppy.”

“It’s a good job we’re having another one then, I’m gonna make her a massive Daddy’s girl too.” He beamed at me and I flipped him off playfully, rubbing my baby bump happily.

And like that, just over ten weeks later we welcomed our second baby girl, Felicity, who made a dramatic entrance only twenty minutes after my waters had broken and arrived on our bedroom floor with Jodie having to help deliver her with a hyperventilating Sweet Pea at my side.

Our family of three became a family of four.

[sunnysideofmidnight]

MY FUCKING BLUBBERING THOUGHTS 9-26-21

I am unsettled. Something sits there bugging me but not quite sure what it is. Or maybe I know what it is (sub-consciously) and it's pushed far back, hidden. Deep in my blackness of my mind.

I see blackness inside of my mind. With words, like a tv show, flying around in the background. Not focused. Well, I'm not focusing on them. I'm not letting them creep out to make my head start hurting.

I am practicing the act of responding and not reacting. I have a hard time with this sometimes. That’s when I need to start reading about the responding/reacting plan so I can remind myself how to do that.

The universe and God always seem to provide. I feel that I am protected from certain things. I have a true heart. I have a real soul. I give a lot. I hurt a lot. I get taken advantage a lot. I get knocked down a lot. I always, always get up.

I am happy that I endured bad in the good through life. It taught me things I didn't know. I experienced things most people haven't. I am a go getter and anything I've put my mind too I have done.

Yet here I am. All these fucking words swirling in the back of that blankness of a mind of mine. Yet I'm not thinking of anything because I won't let myself . It's there. It's lingering. It still must be dealt with. All the things that are swirling there waiting to be thought of.

I am overwhelmed so therefore I have shut down. Shut down any thinking other than fucking thinking. Not letting shit surface. Pushing it back. So far back that I can't make out what the swirling mumble jumble is.

Yet. There is that lingering gut feeling of dread that no matter what all of that must be brought to attention and dealt with. I accomplished getting some fucking shit done. Really lost.

I can't say I'm confused. I know what’s going on. I have shut down. NO more thinking. Done with that. Done. Done. Done. Until tomorrow.

I decided, after thinking all day about writing on Tumblr, that I needed to empty my mind. Empty the thoughts that are hurting my brain.

The Universe & God always brings me to or send me messages that relate to the situation I may be going through. I have always felt this. So here I am on my Tumblr and (other than losing my masterpiece I worked on earlier) I came across some post that I had reposted and there is the reminder of response and reaction.

The article on how to deal with Rude People and it reminded me of the things I had learned last year in rehab. Oh yea, now I remember the process of accomplishing response and not reaction. Then I also remember i need to read and think about those things every day. Practice. Practice. Practice.

I find that a sent message from Universe and God because I was just complaining about RUDE people. NO one smiles anymore or is polite since this fucking COVID-19 shit!! So, some of my old ways are coming back.  Forgetting to be the better person and the “smarter” one in certain situations.  I’m pretty sure that was my angels saying, “hey remember this”.  

Thanks for looking out for me all my angels, The Universe and God.  Reminding me that I used my tools I learned to respond to a situation today.

 As SpongeBob would say: “5 HOURS LATER”  LOL not really, maybe, I don’t know been a few weeks since it happened . I tend to quote movies and cartoons a lot.  😊

 Dealing with a situation where an employee disrespected me and basically thought this was how it was going to be.  I decided hmmm, NO I do not believe this is how this is going to be.  I did argue, I did react.  Yet, at the end of it all I responded.  I hate to lose good help and I definitely think people suck who take advantage of situations and other people.  

I would only be disrespecting myself.  Letting myself get walked on and talked to like that.  Who the fuck is the boss?  That was the reaction.  Then a threat of looking for another job.  Here is where we come to a crossroads.  She knows she’s top help so she thinks she will be able to demand and threaten me.  If I let her then guess she can, and I have only done that to myself.  (Wanted to let you know what happened in this situation it is 9/26/21 now.  I didn’t fire or react anymore.  I gave myself a moment or few days to analyze and then text. Explaining my side of the situation and then

I stopped reacting and I responded why don’t you start tomorrow.    It was just last week they sat in my car and made the statement I am a pushover.   Hmm.  How did that work out for myself?

9\26\21

I wrote the top part 9-20-21 and I am only by chance finding it.  I was so frustrated the day I lost this “award winning” writing I had done (Baha …. Only in my mind.)  I started writing on my word program.  I know how to save that.  This just happened to be open when I opened word.  What the hell maybe I’m supposed to post it.

Thanks for listening, reading, analyzing.  Just letting me FREE MY MIND!!

[hannahindie]

The Wedding Singer - Track 8

“Til There Was You”

Characters: Dean, Ellen, Reader, Ketch, Jeff (OC), Jo, Chuck

Word Count: 3,101 (This one’s a doooooozy)

Series Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, Mentions of Infidelity, Alcohol

A/N: This is the eighth chapter of an AU SPN Series co-written by myself and @pinknerdpanda entitled The Wedding Singer and is inspired by the movie. We have been working on this for the last few months and are very excited to share it with you. The series tag list is open. If you would like to be added, please send one of us an ask. I made our 80s inspired aesthetic and the series was Masterbeta’d by @wheresthekillswitch.

As always, tags are at the bottom! If you’d like to be added, please let me know.

Track List 

Track 8: “Til There Was You”

“Dammit, Dean Winchester! What the ever lovin’ hell is wrong with you?” Dean shrank back against the couch cushions as Ellen stood up, gesticulating wildly. “She is engaged. To another man, in case you forgot! Oh, I could wring your neck.” She glared down at him, her hands on her hips, and Dean couldn’t help but be reminded of a cartoon figure with steam shooting out of their ears.

“Ellen, I’m sorry-”

“Oh, you’re sorry alright. What in God’s name was going through that thick skull of yours? I can’t even begin to believe...I just...oh!” She crossed her arms and continued to glare at him.

Dean almost felt sick as he stared down at his hands. He didn’t have a good answer for any of it, other than it just felt right at the time. It felt more right than it ever had with Lisa. “I don’t know why I did it,” he almost whispered. “I just...I wanted to feel something. Everything was numb, and when Y/N walked me outside, everything just...it felt better. I swear to God, Ellen, it just happened.”

Ellen sighed and sat back down next to Dean, “Honey, I know you’re sad. You have every right to be heartbroken, and if I could have my way, I’d kick that bitch’s ass. But you cannot drag Y/N into this. That girl has got a ring on her finger, and even if I think he might be a bit of a corporate goon who's never around, he's got a good paying job and takes care of her. If my gut is tellin’ me the truth, that man is going to finally set a date soon. I think that’s why he came to visit.” Ellen tucked her knuckle under Dean’s chin and made him look at her, “Y/N is beautiful, and kind, and sweet. If circumstances were different, I think it might have been good for you. But they aren’t, and you can’t just screw around with her feelings. Do you hear me, Dean? Leave it alone.”

Dean nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good. Now, pack up your shit and get on outta here. Bobby will be home any minute, and I don't think you're gonna want to be here when he finds out what happened.”

Dean gathered up the sheet music and folded it up neatly, then slipped it and his guitar back into the case. He walked towards the front door, then paused and turned back to look at Ellen. It nearly broke her heart to see him look so sad. “I really am sorry, Ellen. Can you...uhh...maybe tell her that when you see her?”

Ellen gave Dean a sad smile, “Sure thing, kiddo. Now go, get outta here.” Dean softly closed the door behind him and Ellen sighed.

These kids were going to end up being the death of her.

Dean drove slowly through town as he tried to decide what to do. He didn’t want to go home; Sam would wonder why he was back already. Although he knew enough to explain it, that wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have with Sam right now. He definitely couldn’t go to the community center, although he did need to talk to Chuck. As he pulled up to the stoplight, he realized that he probably should apologize to Jeff and Sheila for his atrocious behavior at the reception. He turned right instead of going straight and headed towards their house. He slowed to a stop at the curb and paused; maybe they were on their honeymoon. He decided to chance it and slowly walked up the sidewalk to their door.

He went to knock and paused. What was he supposed to say to someone that had just gotten married, someone who had paid him generously to sing at their reception, when he basically just announced to everyone married life was a mistake and that they’d need all the luck they could get? He rapped his knuckles against the bright red door and waited. When there was no answer, he knocked again. Just as he was about to turn to leave, the door flew open and he was face to face with a very angry Jeff.

“What the hell do you want?” Jeff demanded, his knuckles white as he gripped the door.

Dean ran a hand through his hair and across the back of his head nervously, “Uh, well...I just wanted to stop by and tell you how sorry I am about last night. I shouldn’t have said what I said-”

“You’re sorry? Sorry? Hey honey!” Jeff shouted over his shoulder, “Dean’s sorry about last night!” He turned back and glared at Dean, “Why don’t you tell my 97 year old great grandmother you’re sorry? Better yet, explain to her why some drunken asshole was yelling obscenities about his failed marriage instead of just singing like we paid him to do? You realize Chuck had to finish the night out, right? You need to get it together, Winchester.”

“I know, man. I know. It was unacceptable, and it should have never happened. I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I can get you a partial refund-” Before Dean could finish his sentence, Jeff punched him hard in the mouth and Dean stumbled backwards and off the porch. He nearly fell but somehow managed to regain his balance as he looked up at Jeff in shock, his hand moving to the blood now trickling down his chin.

“Your pal Chuck already saved your ass and gave us a full refund. Like I said, get your shit together. You’ll be lucky if you get another job around here after last night.” Jeff slammed the door shut and Dean stumbled back to the Impala and threw himself into the driver’s seat. This had been a mistake.

“Should have had that conversation with Chuck first,” he thought glumly to himself as he pulled into the street. He glanced at his watch: one o’clock. As much as he didn’t want to, both Chuck and Jo would be at the community center by now. He turned onto the main drag and made his way to the last place he wanted to go. Then again, nobody else would be there, so maybe it was the best option after all.

Y/N pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot and haphazardly parked in a spot close to the door. The sky had begun to darken, and it seemed very fitting for the mood that she was in. She flipped down the sun visor and looked at herself in the mirror. What little makeup she had on was now smeared and running, and she quickly cleaned it up as well as she could before heading inside. She sniffled, took a deep breath, then forced herself to get out of the car and walk through the front door. She smoothed her skirt as she got to the hostess stand, and nervously waited for someone to assist her. A young girl hurried out of the kitchen, a wide smile on her face, and stopped at the wooden podium.

“Welcome to Fratelli’s, how may I help you today?”

Y/N cleared her throat, “There should be a reservation for two, under Ketch.” Before the girl could answer, Y/N felt someone grab her hand and swirl her around to face him.

“Hello, darling! Running a little late today, are we?”

Y/N forced a smile, “Sorry, Ketch, I forgot to charge my phone and the alarm didn’t go off. Thank goodness for Aunt Ellen’s need to feed the entire neighborhood bacon and eggs, or I would have never woken up.”

He planted a gentle kiss to her forehead, then whisked her towards one of the best tables in the place. “Ah, well never mind that. We’ve got a lot to discuss.” Y/N felt a surge of guilt as his lips brushed her skin, followed by confusion when he mentioned they had a lot to discuss.

She slipped carefully into the chair he pulled out for her and raised an eyebrow, “What exactly do we need to discuss?” She asked as she picked up her glass.

“Our wedding, of course!”

Y/N nearly choked on her water, “Wait, what?”

“I think now is the perfect opportunity to set a date for our nuptials. I’ve got just enough time in between work assignments that we should be able to exchange our vows, go on our honeymoon, and be back before anyone even notices I’m gone.”

Y/N’s gaze traveled to the glinting diamond on her left hand, the sunlight pouring through the window throwing rainbows across the table as it passed through the clear stone, and her mind immediately went to Dean. The way his lips fit with hers, the fire that had nearly consumed her before she pulled away, the look of pure want in Dean’s eyes...she shouldn’t be thinking about it, she should be listening to Ketch. But the moment he mentioned marriage, her heart felt like it had been placed into a vice, and someone was turning the handle slowly but painfully. This was what she wanted, right? She had been practically begging him for months to pick a date, to settle on something so that she’d have a goal to work towards. But it had been so long, Y/N had forgotten the excitement she felt when they were first engaged, forgotten what it felt like to look forward to dress shopping and picking out flowers, and choosing the music.

Everything seemed to be in slow motion as she looked up at Ketch. His mouth was moving, but she didn’t hear anything he was saying. All she could think about was how alive she’d felt when Dean had kissed her. Before she realized what she was doing, Y/N stood up and leaned across the table, ran her fingers through the short hair at the nape of Ketch’s neck, and kissed him. She pressed into him, hoping to feel the spark she’d felt last night; the desperation, the undeniable, heart stopping ache of fitting perfectly together. Instead, Ketch pulled back and looked at her with a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment.

“Y/N, we are in a public place! Whatever has gotten into you?” He ran a hand through his hair and Y/N slowly sat back down.

She cleared her throat, “Sorry...I uhh...you just look very handsome today.”

Ketch smirked at her, “As I should, this suit cost more than most of the people in this restaurant make in a year.” He smoothed his lapel then continued, “As I was saying, I think two weeks from this Saturday will suffice, don’t you? A nice Saturday wedding, small, simple, to the point? I’d rather not have it at the community center, but there aren’t too many other options, and I think outdoor weddings are far too cliche for our taste, don’t you?”

Y/N looked at him with wide eyes, “Two weeks from this Saturday? Are you sure? I’m not sure I’ll have time to get everything booked, get a dress…” she trailed off, panic rising in her chest.

He shrugged, “Well, only if you want to. It will be awhile before I will get another chance, and I know you’ve been wanting to do this for a long time. I would hate for you to have to wait any longer, darling.” He patted her hand and smiled, “So, what will it be? Are you ready to become Mrs. Arthur Ketch?”

Y/N looked down at their hands, then back up at Ketch and swallowed thickly.

Was she?

Just as Dean pulled into the parking lot at the community center, the dull rumble of thunder rolled through town as the wind picked up. Huge, black thunderheads moved slowly across the sky, threatening to dump their contents at any moment. Dean pulled his collar up to shield himself from the wind as he climbed out of the car and practically dragged himself inside. The moment he walked through the door, he heard an exasperated yell.

“Dean Winchester! What the hell is wrong with you?” Jo stormed across the room and stopped in front of Dean, her arms crossed tightly in front of her.

He rolled his eyes, “How many more times do I have to hear that today?”

“How many more times until you get through your thick skull how stupid you are?” Jo snapped back. “You kissed Y/N? What the fuck is your damage?”

“Jo, listen-”

Jo jabbed Dean in the chest with her pointer finger, “No, you listen. She is a good person, with a huge guilt complex that makes her feel like everything is her fault. She doesn't need your help to make it worse. Seriously, Dean, how old are you? We aren't in high school anymore. Unbelievable.”

“I didn't mean for it to happen! I'm not even blaming the alcohol, I just...I don't have an explanation. I'm really sorry.”

Jo opened her mouth to argue, but Chuck had appeared out of nowhere and put a hand on her arm. “Yelling at him isn't going to help, Jo. What's done is done, and if he just steers clear of Y/N, we should be good, right?” He turned his gaze on Dean, “Right?”

Dean nodded, “Yea...right.”

For the first time, Chuck noticed Dean’s bloody lip, “What happened there?”

Dean reached up and grimaced as his fingertips grazed his split lip, “Jeff.”

“Oh, Jesus, when did you see him?”

Dean sighed, “I didn't realize you'd already refunded him, so I stopped by to apologize and offered to give them a partial refund. Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say. God, I really fucked this up.”

Chuck put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, “It's not all bad, brother. This will blow over. I hope it's okay that I did that, I honestly didn't know what else-”

He was interrupted by the front door flying open as the wind ripped it away from the person that entered through it. Jo, Dean, and Chuck all looked over to see Y/N standing in the doorway, soaking wet and wide eyed. Dean’s eyes locked with Y/N’s and before he could say anything, she blurted out the last thing he'd ever want to hear her say.

“I'm getting married in two weeks.”

Jo squealed and ran over to her, ignoring how wet Y/N was, and threw her arms around her, “He finally set a date! I'm gonna be honest, I didn't think he would. No offense, but he kept you dangling there for awhile.”

“Yea, he did...but two weeks. What am I supposed to do with that?” Y/N’s eyes never left Dean’s and the longer he looked at her, the sicker he felt. He stormed past Jo and Y/N with a mumbled congratulations and into the pouring rain in time to purge himself of the meager breakfast he'd had just a few hours before. He leaned against the rough brick of the community center and let the cool water run over his feverish skin.

He stood up straight with a groan and walked towards his beloved Impala, the only place he seemed to be safe from bullshit today. He made it about halfway before he heard someone shouting over the pouring rain.

“Dean!” He turned slowly to see Y/N walking towards him, the rain causing her thin shirt to cling tightly to all her curves, and he sucked in a deep breath.

“What?”

“Are you okay?” She stopped a couple feet short of him and it took everything he had not to close the space between them. This was stupid; he'd only known her for three weeks. But looking at her, her y/h/c hair framing her face and somehow making her look even more beautiful despite it being dripping wet and clinging to her, he wanted to kiss her. Fiancé be damned.

Instead, he laughed. She looked at him in confusion and he threw his hands out, “No! I'm not. Do I look okay to you? Does anything about this scream okay?”

“You don't have to yell-”

“I'm not yelling. You asked a question and I'm answering it. My fiancé left me in front of everyone I know, I may have lost any chance of getting hired again, the whole town either feels sorry for me or thinks I'm a fucking drunk, and now you-” he gestured to her, but trailed off.

Y/N took a step towards him, “Me? What about me?”

“Nothing! Forget I said anything.” He turned to go to his car, but stopped when Y/N grabbed his arm and forced him to turn around.

“What about me, Dean?”

“You're...you're getting married! To some corporate dick bag that is never here. I mean, you're living with your aunt, for Chrissake, why aren't you with him?” Before she realized what she was doing, Y/N slapped Dean hard across the face. He looked at her, stunned, as his hand slowly moved up to touch his now red cheek.

“You have no idea what you're talking about. You have absolutely no right to be angry with me. You're just jealous of Ketch and I!”

“Ketch? That’s his name?” Dean scoffed. “There’s not anything to be jealous of, sweetheart. Because the way I see it, it's a marriage of convenience. You're so used to just being with him that nothing else could ever be possible or make you happier. Newsflash! You're wrong. You can't tell me that kiss didn't make you feel something.”

“I don't know what you're talking about-”

“Bullshit.” As they argued, they had both moved closer and closer until they were standing toe to toe.

“It didn't mean anything.”

Dean stared into Y/N’s eyes, the usually bright moss green dark and lust blown, “Prove it.” Dean pulled her into him, one hand twisted in her hair as the other hand slipped down and grabbed her waist. Every part of exposed skin that touched seemed to spark, and Y/N couldn't help but grab the front of his flannel and pull him closer. His tongue swiped along her bottom lip, and she gasped as he nipped at her. He pulled back and swept the pad of his thumb across her cheek.

“Think about that while you're waiting on Ketch.”

He turned and climbed into the Impala, and Y/N jumped at the sudden roar of the engine. He sped off, and she watched as his taillights disappeared into the stormy afternoon.

Like what you see? Would you like to see more? My Masterlist is here and the lovely @pinknerdpanda can be found here.  Thanks for reading! :) 

The Wedding Singer - Series Tags: @nanie5 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @tiffanycaruso @faegal04 @bethbabybaby @aesthsuggestion @escabell @lavieenlex @letmusicguideu @charliebradbury1104 @ericaprice2008 @kathaswings @feelmyroarrrr @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @journeyrose @kudosia @spnfangirl1965 @pickupthatamulet @faithfullpanicmoon @castianityislife02 @hexparker @squirrel-moose-winchester @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @fullmetalavatar54 @flormolero @mrsbatesmotel53 @dancingalone21

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda  @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @deanssweetheart23  @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion @myloveforyouxx @atc74 @mrsbatesmotel53 @easelweasel @there-must-be-a-lock @masksandtruths @thelittleredwhocould @jotink78 @amanda-teaches @ilsawasanacrobat @squirrel-moose-winchester @mjdoc90 @anticipate1003

Dean Only: @lavieenlex @akshi8278 @valkyrieslament @highonpastries

[xxprincessjewelsxx]

A Dangerous Game (Suho Mafia!au fic) Chapter 21 - What Do You Want From Me?

Warnings: Violence

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8, Ch. 9, Ch. 10, Ch. 11, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15(M), Ch. 16, Ch. 17(M), Ch. 18, Ch. 19, Ch. 20 Ch. 21, Ch. 22, Bonus Chapter

“She’s been taken...”

~Minseok~

As everyone practically tumbled into the penthouse behind a calm looking Minseok. He walked over to Suho who was still trying to calm the sobbing Jinwoo.

“What did you mean by ‘she’s been taken’?” he questioned.

Junmyeon looked at him worry written all over his friend’s face. “When I got back to the building there were those pizza boxes on the ground in the lobby along with her wallet and when I got up here Jinwoo was crying and said that Y/N went to go pay for the food and never came back around the time that his cartoons started...which is around four.”

“She’s been gone for three hours?” Jongdae questioned.

“Apparently...” Junmyeon said.

“Have any ideas who might have done this?” Chanyeol questioned, already popping his knuckles in anticipation of hearing the man he was going to be beating the ever loving shit out of.

“I have a feeling I know who did this...and I also think I know someone who might come in handy when trying to get Y/N back...”

~Y/N~

Who took me?

What did they want?

When would they let me go (if they did)?

Where am I?  

Why did they take me?

Those were all questions that I had swirling around in my head as I hung by my wrists, feet barely touching the ground, with a blindfold over my eyes. I could just make out voices as they whispered around the room I was in; there were at least three men there, maybe four.

One of the voices I recognized right away. He could try and whisper as quietly as he wanted, but he was a dirty and despicable man with a voice that was all to familiar to me...

Kim Kitae...

He was my father’s right hand man. Looking at him from afar you would thing he was a suave older business man who probably went to work and then went home to a wife and probably had a couple of grown children. This was not the case if you knew him. He was a brutal man; man, woman, child he didn’t care who you were if you got in his way he would get you out of his way.

Not to mention this is the man that is the cause of me being used as a pawn. It’s not a big secret what happened, my father had a fling with my mother, she got pregnant, he wanted nothing to do with me, she was dying and when I was born she left me on his door step and even though my father wanted to get rid of me, Kitae knew I could be used as a pawn.

And here I am...

The blindfold was pulled from my face and I was face to face with that despicable man. It took me every ounce of self-control that I had not to spit in his face.

“It’s lovely to see you again little Y/N...” he said with a smirk.

‘Little Y/N’ He always called me that, even in my teens and into adulthood, and it wasn’t in an endearing way like some people might call a child. He called me that because he saw me as weak and pathetic.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I invited you here today...” he said.

“You use the term ‘invite’ very loosely,” I deadpanned.

Smack

Did I mention he was just as much of an abusive bastard as my father was?

“I will not tolerate any attitude from you!” he snapped.

And easy to anger...the man was a ticking time bomb. I always wondered if there would be a day when his head actually exploded. But I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at him; of course I was scared of the situation I was in, I mean I did want to live and I had responsibilities as moth...as a guardian of a small child who I...

My heart suddenly dropped to the pit of my stomach; just earlier I had promised Jinwoo that I wouldn’t leave him and then I go and disappear. Was Junmyeon back at the penthouse yet? Was anyone?

Now...now I was scared. But it made me even more determined to get out of this situation alive; maybe Junmyeon was right. Maternal instincts do kick in when a small child is near.

“What do you want from me?” I questioned.

“From you? Nothing...the only thing you have been and ever will be good for is as proof of a territory deal between the Lee Mafia and another. Not only that the only thing women are ever good for are sex and having children.”

You see why he’s despicable? He’s rotten to the core like a bad apple except he’s a whole barrel of rotten apples so you just have to throw them in the trash before they stink up the place and-

“I was hoping that your father would choose my son Hanbin, him and his boys are slowly making a name for themselves in the underworld and I would’ve hoped he’d want to keep things in the family...so to speak,” he said.

“Soooo you’re upset that he made a contract with Suho instead of your son?” I questioned, “This is your drastic way of saying ‘I object’?”

“Your father was drunk when he made that decision, but he’s a man of his word and decided that it would be a good business move,” he said with a scoff, “The leader of EXO and his members are nothing but-oomph.”

Before I could stop myself I kicked him in the stomach. “Don’t you dare insult them!”

“You miserable little bitch!” he snapped before punching me in the stomach, “I will insult whoever the hell I want, including those no good, lowly sewer rats of EXO!”

“So much anger...I guess you really are angry that my father married me off to Suho instead of your son...” I said, my stomach aching, “But I still don’t get what you want.”

“I was Suho dead...once he’s dead the deal will be off and-”

“Are you sure?” I questioned.

“What?” he asked.

“Are you sure...the deal will be off?” I asked.

“You two aren’t married so-”

“Did you see the contract?”

He went silent at the mention of this.

“I’ll take that as a no...”

~Junmyeon~

“You owe me after this,” Leo said through his mic.

“I didn’t figure I would be getting out of this with just us shaking hands and going our separate ways...” Junmyeon remarked, “Where are you anywhere.”

“Where I can see you but you can’t see me,” Leo stated, “And where I can see into the warehouse....there’s four inside but there’s two at the door.”

“Can you see her?” Junmyeon questioned.

There was silence and Junmyeon heard Leo gulp before he answered. “Yes.”

~Y/N~

“I will not tolerate your lies!” Kitae yelled as he punched me over and over. I gave him information that was, in fact a lie, but I was hoping that he would leave to go see if the information was correct or not. Fifty/fifty chance that failed and that consciousness that I had regained was slowly going away. “Did you really think that I was stupid enough to grab you without doing my homework?!”

“Well...you’re not the smartest man I’ve ever met,” I quipped, resulting in a knee to the gut.

“Once Suho is dead then the territory in back in Lee Mafia hands...and...you aren’t married, which means via the contract you are back in the hands of the Lee Mafia as well...and I you can be married off to my son...” he stated.

“And what does my father have to say about your little plan? Does he even know how much you object to this?” I questioned.

“Oh he knew how much I objected to you getting married to Suho...and no he doesn’t know about my plan, and he never will. Because your father is dead...”

My eyes widened in shock at this. “Dead?”

“I always thought it would be his liver that finally took him, turns out his heart decided to go out first,” he said.

Trying to process this information I finally figured out what was going on and why he was so determined to kill Suho. “This isn’t about the contract...this isn’t even about the territory...right now you’re the temporary head of the Lee Mafia...but if Suho and I get married...”

The look on Kitae’s face was one of disgust, he knew what I was about to say and he didn’t even want to hear those words.

“He’d become the knew head of the Lee Mafia...”

To Be Continued...