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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 7,362 Pairing: Teenage!Daryl Dixon x Teenage!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: mainly pre-outbreak Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse, violence A/N: Angsty and fluffy and angsty and fluffy! AGH! Summary: Daryl and Y/N are close growing up. Y/N knows about his bad home life and worries when Daryl doesn't show up at school one day.

Your name: submit What is this?

You were kicking a rock down the road, humming some stupid song you’d heard on the radio, when there was a familiar voice from behind you.

“Hey.”

You turned and grinned, knowing immediately who it was before you even saw him. “Daryl,” you said warmly. “Hey.”

He had his hands shrugged into the pockets of his secondhand black jeans. “What’re ya doin’?”

You laughed and shrugged. “I dunno. Wasting time. Kicking rocks.” You tucked your hair behind your ear and took him in. You could tell immediately that something was bothering him. “You okay?”

How did you always know? Even when he was trying his hardest to hide it, you always knew. “Yeah, just—” he chewed his bottom lip in that anxious habit he had. “Water got shut off again. My old man didn’t pay the bill.”

Your expression turned a bit sad and you nodded. It was mid-summer and the Georgia heat and humidity was suffocating. They never had air conditioning at the Dixon house, but no A/C and no water was a big problem. “Come on,” you said, tilting your head in the direction of your house down the street. “You want to come hang at my house for a while?”

Daryl considered your bright and open expression and then nodded. “Thanks.”

You nodded. “Of course. C’mon. My momma is workin’ the night shift so she won’t be home until God-only-knows-when. Ya can stay as long as ya like,” you said. Daryl fell into stride beside you.

“Thanks,” he said again.

“Sure.” You nudged him with your shoulder playfully. “Ya want me to help you with the Algebra homework?”

He rolled his eyes at you. “No.”

“Oh, come on, Daryl. You’re way smarter than you think. If you’d just try—”

“Why? Ain’t like I’m gonna go off to some big fancy college like you,” he said, kicking a rock along. It skipped on the gravel and stopped in front of you.

“Ya could. If ya wanted to,” you said, hitting the rock again with the toe of your boot. It went skipping along the road in front of you again.

“How the hell would I pay for that?”

You gave him a sympathetic look. “There’s financial aid. Scholarships.”

He scoffed. “Ain’t no college givin’ me a scholarship the way my grades are.”

“That’s why I said try,” you replied gently.

“Nah. Ain’t happenin’.”

You always felt so sad when Daryl talked about his future as an inevitable dead end. You knew he wanted to get away from his drunk asshole of a father and you also knew that he had plenty of reasons why he couldn’t focus on his schoolwork. Hard to focus on class when you’re wondering when your next meal or beating is coming… But you saw so much brilliance in him that he refused to see in himself. You decided to drop the subject for now and simply glanced over at him. His blue eyes met yours and you gave him a small smile. “Ya hungry?” you asked, kicking the rock down the road again.

He avoided your eyes again but nodded. “Always. That even a question?” he drawled.

You turned onto the driveway of your house and soon climbed the steps, pulling open the front door and nudging your head toward the cool interior. “We’ve got chicken pot-pie in the fridge,” you said. “Ya can have the rest of it. I swear, it’s the only thing my mom has been buyin’ lately.”

A short time later, you were flopped down watching TV while Daryl sat on the floor, his back leaned up against the front of the couch. His empty dish was sitting on the coffee table and you jumped up and grabbed it as a commercial came on. “Ya want some more?”

He looked up at you and one corner of his mouth twitched upwards. “Nah. I think three helpings was enough,” he said, pushing his dirty hair out of his face. “Thanks…” he said, a little more bashfully.

You nodded. “Sure.” Daryl climbed to his feet and followed you into the kitchen. He watched you set his dishes in the sink and then fill up two glasses with ice water, putting one down in front of him. He felt your eyes on his face and glanced up to meet them. “You wanna clean up while you’re here?” you asked.

He shook his head and glanced back down at the glass in his hands. “Nah. S’alright.”

You prodded him gently. “Ya sure? It’s not a big deal. I can wash your clothes and you can shower. I was gonna do some laundry anyway. Probably have somethin’ you can wear til they’re dry. Promise it ain’t a sundress,” you joked. You glanced at the clock. “We’ve got some time to kill before tonight’s terrible monster movie comes on anyway,” you said brightly. That was your thing; watching old monster movies from the ‘50s and ‘60s. You weren’t even sure how it had started, but it was just what you did together.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. He hazarded a glance back up at you. He was always so grateful for how you saw him, looked at him. Your expression never suggested anything other than open acceptance and genuine care. Finally, he nudged his nose up at you. “Alright. You win,” he said, downing the rest of his ice water quickly. “Let’s go pick out my sundress,” he said, eliciting a laugh from you.

Daryl followed you upstairs and you grabbed a clean towel for him out of the linen closet. “Hang on a sec. I’m sure there’s something in Brody’s room you can wear.” Your older brother was away at college. You returned a moment later with some clean clothes and thrust them at him. “You know where the bathroom is. Since I will puke if I eat any more pot-pie again this week, I’m gonna make popcorn. Just put your dirty clothes outside the bathroom door and I’ll throw ‘em in the wash.” You turned to head back downstairs and Daryl found himself watching you go until you disappeared.

“Hey, don’t watch the movie without me!” he called after you.

“Well then hurry up!” you called back up. Daryl smiled.

_ _ _ _ _ _

A short while later, you and Daryl were side by side on the couch. His clothes were tumbling in the dryer and now that he was clean, he realized just how dirty he had felt before. You were both munching on some popcorn from a huge bowl sitting between the two of you on the couch. Daryl always teased you about how much you made at once.

“Christ, are ya eatin’ this for your next four meals?”

You would pull a face at him. “No. Just for dinner. And knock it off or you don’t get any.”

Your eyes were glued to the screen as you watched the damsel in distress on screen run from some deep woods swamp creature, your knees pulled onto the couch and bent underneath you to the side. “I don’t understand this—if somethin’ is chasin’ you why would you run in a straight line, completely visible!? At least take a turn every now and again! I mean, look at all that thick brush she could disappear into!”

Daryl let out a small laugh. “That’s what your problem is? There’s a 9 foot tall, muck-man chasin’ her and that’s what ya take issue with?” he drawled.

You turned and gave him a manufactured look of annoyance and chucked a handful of popcorn at him, eliciting a gruff laugh. “You know what I mean!” you said. You heard the washer stop spinning and went to change the laundry over into the dryer, chucking one more handful of popcorn at Daryl as you got up.

“Hey!” He brushed the popped kernels off his shirt. “Ya know I’m gonna retaliate eventually and it’s gonna be much worse!” he yelled after you.

You laughed as you started the dryer. “Oh, I’m real scared! What’re you gonna do, Dixon?” You appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with your arms crossed over your chest and not looking the least bit intimidated.

“I’ll think of somethin’,” he said. “C’mon. Movie’s back on.”

You rushed back to the couch and moved the popcorn bowl onto the coffee table, sinking down in the empty space now beside Daryl.

He couldn’t stop glancing over at you and he felt suddenly fidgety, chewing on his bottom lip and practically having to sit on his hands to keep them still. Luckily, you didn’t seem to noticed, and it wasn’t too much longer before you laid down on the throw pillow at the other end of the couch, curled up with your eyes still on the screen. And not much longer after that before Daryl noticed you were asleep. The first movie was over, and some old rerun of The Blob was no playing.

Daryl noticed goosebumps on your arms and wondered if you were cold from the A/C vent blowing overhead, just in your t-shirt and shorts. He grabbed a quilt from the chair nearby and tried to cover you up without waking you.

But you stirred as soon as you felt the fabric on your arm and sat partially up, blinking awake and meeting his blue eyes, which seemed care-free for once and brighter than expected in the dim light from the television screen. “Sorry,” he said softly. “Was tryin’ not to wake ya up.”

You sat up all the way, clutching the quilt over your lap and looked up at him. “Thanks. What time is it?” Daryl glanced over at the time on the VCR.

“S’late. I should go… Let ya get some sleep,” he said.

“Oh, your clothes,” you said, climbing to your feet. You went to the laundry room and grabbed his freshly cleaned clothes from the dryer. “Go ahead and get changed and just leave those in the bathroom.”

While Daryl was changing, you went to the kitchen and filled up a water bottle with ice and cold water from the tap. He came out, looking much more like himself now that he was out of your brother’s old shorts and t-shirt. “Here,” you said, pushing the water bottle toward him. “In case you get thirsty on the walk home,” you said giving him a small smile.

He gave you a long look and seemed like he was on the edge of saying something, but he couldn’t get the words out and simply nudged his nose up in a nod at you. You always thought of the littlest things to make his life less shitty and did them for him without hesitation. “Thanks,” he said, grabbing the bottle. “I’ll give it back to ya tomorrow.”

He started toward the front door and you followed to walk him out.

He turned on the entryway rug, his hand on the handle. “Hey, tell your mom ‘thanks for the food’ when you see her in the mornin’, okay?”

You nodded. “Sure thing. You walkin’ tomorrow?” You already knew the answer. He always made the half hour walk to school, and you did it together most days.

“Duh,” he said, one corner of his mouth flicking up. “Ya comin’?”

“Duh,” you returned with a wide smile. Daryl felt his heart jump.

“Alright. See ya then. Thanks. Night.” He pushed out onto the porch and you caught the screen door as he ran down the steps.

“G’night,” you called after him. He turned and waved one last time over his shoulder and then he was gone into the still darkness outside. The cicadas seemed to grow louder as you stood there, and it was a fitting soundtrack to the immediate rise in your anxiety after Daryl disappeared. They seemed to grow so loud they were almost defeaning. You always worried about him when he went home. There was no way to know whether his dad would be passed out drunk or waiting up angry. You knew sometimes Daryl would just wait outside in the dark until he could either sneak in through a window or until he was sure his father was asleep or too drunk to move. Your heart ached. You wished more than anything that you could just fix it. He deserved so much better… You were always amazed that his heart still was so good considering all the bullshit he had been through, losing his mother and their home, his brother running off, and all the shit he was still going through. Sure, he could be angry and moody at times, but who wasn’t at your age?

Finally you sighed and closed up the house, heading upstairs to try and catch some sleep before school the next day.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were finishing packing lunch when your mom came down, still in her scrubs from the hospital. “Morning, mom,” you said. She came over and gave you a hug and left a kiss in your hair. “How was the shift?” you asked, grabbing a banana off the counter.

“Oh, just the usual. Nothing exciting. Lots of old people.” She was a nurse and always worked the night shift. She yawned and grabbed a mug and put on the tea kettle. “I’m exhausted. Mr. Jones came in again needing to be back on oxygen. Pneumonia again.”

“Oh, no…” you said, glancing at her. “Did he throw things again this time?”

She let out a wry laugh. “Of course he did! Nearly took my head off with a damn bed pan.”

“Seriously?! I hope it was empty!” you exclaimed, and you both dissolved into laughter.

“Luckily, it was. Or I would not be in such a good mood this morning… What’d you get up to yesterday? How was school?”

“School was fine. Daryl came over for a while. We watched some terrible Swamp Thing movie of course,” you said.

Your mom laughed and opened the box of tea and grabbed a tea bag. “You two. I do not understand your obsession with those monster movies from my generation,” she said.

“I dunno. They’re funny. Anyway… I gotta go. Gonna meet Daryl to walk to school.” You kissed her cheek and grabbed your things. “Love you! Get some sleep!”

You rushed to the spot where you and Daryl usually met up to walk to school, but were surprised to see that he wasn’t there. He was always there waiting before you. You dropped your bookbag, checking inside to make sure you had grabbed your lunch and the second one you always packed for him… And then you waited. And you waited. And waited… But there was no sign of him. And now you were worried. Maybe he’d gone ahead for some reason? He had never done that before. But soon you knew that if you didn’t leave, you’d be late for class, so you hastily scribbled a quick note on a sheet of notebook paper and left it under a rock at your meeting spot before heading to school.

You looked for him as you made your way through the halls to your locker, but you didn’t see his familiar silhouette anywhere. And he wasn’t in any of the classes you usually had together. At lunch you couldn’t focus on any of your friends’ conversations because you were so busy worrying about where the hell he was…

Over the course of the day, you felt sicker and sicker. You made sure to grab materials for him in all the classes you had together so he could get caught up on what he missed, and by the time the final bell rang you were determined to see him and make sure he was okay. You hastily waved goodbye to your friends and started the walk home, but instead of going straight there, you paused at the meeting spot where you usually met Daryl and saw that the note you had left that morning was still sitting underneath the rock. You collected it and shoved it hastily into your pocket. You stared up the dirt road that led into the woods and to the Dixon house. You took a deep breath in and tried to hold onto your courage as you turned up the path.

It was strange how the trees seemed to insulate from sounds of the outside, but amplify everything taking place inside the woods. You startled when a crow let out a raspy caw and took off nearby, the beating of its wings so loud in your ears that you could hear the hurried rush of the air through its feathers. Your heart was hammering in your chest as you came at last to the muddy driveway that led up to the dilapidated little trailer house. The ‘No Trespassing’ sign burned red in your peripheral vision as you carefully picked your way between the puddles and deep mud, trying not to sink your shoes into it up to your ankles.

You gulped and hesitated at the front step, but you forced in a breath and knocked.

Your heart was racing and you could feel your pulse in your fingers and toes as heavy bootsteps and cursing sounded from inside the house. The inside door was yanked open and an imposing man stood there, separated from you only by the thin screen door.

He glared at you, his lips almost curling into a sneer immediately. “Didn’t you see the goddamn sign?! Get the hell outta here! I don’t want whatever the fuck you’re selling!” he growled. He was tall and lean, but looked powerful and you gulped, suddenly thinking that maybe this wasn’t a great plan…

“I’m—” you had to clear your throat. Your voice came out quiet and somewhat strangled the first time. “I’m not selling anything, sir. I’m—I’m a friend of your son. Is he here?”

Mr. Dixon let out a scoff and never quit staring at you like he could snap at any second and come rushing through that screen door. “My boy ain’t got no friends. He’s too damn worthless. You got the wrong house,” he said, turning to slam the door already.

You weren’t sure where you got the courage from but you quickly shouted to stop him. “I don’t have the wrong house, Mr. Dixon! I’m—I’m a friend of Daryl’s. Please. Is he here? I just have some, um, school work for him…”

He stared at you again for a long moment, his eyes narrowing. They were sharp. “He ain’t here.” You were sweating with nerves under his gaze. “You goddamn women are only good for one thing, and I know he ain’t man enough to be getting any tail, so I don’t care why you say you’re here, but it ain’t no good reason. Now get the fuck off my property!”

You felt your face burn, some combination of anger, humiliation, and shock at being talked to that way by a grown man. You decided to try one last time. “Are you sure he’s not—”

Daryl’s father kicked the screen door hard and it flew open violently. You jumped back and let out a small scream of surprise and fear. He stepped out onto the stairs, his hands clenched into fists, and you could see that he was wavering a little on his feet, drunk, but also shaking with rage. “I got a goddamn shotgun sitting right inside here and I won’t be waitin’ much longer to use it unless you get the hell outta here right now!”

You quickly turned tail and ran, not caring at all that you were sloshing through muddy puddles up to your shins on your way back onto the dirt road and away from the house. You ran all the way back to the spot where you and Daryl usually met up before collapsing onto the grass. You shut your eyes and pressed your hands over your face for a moment. “Shit… shit.” It suddenly occurred to you that maybe going there had been entirely the wrong move. What if going to his house and asking about him got him in trouble? What if you had just endangered him more than he already had been? You felt tears burning in your eyes and blinked them away, popping back up onto your feet, which were squishing in your mud-soaked socks and shoes, and you trudged the rest of the way home.

It had felt like the longest evening of your life. You’d drifted around your house, hoping Daryl would come bounding up the porch steps at any moment, ready with some sarcastic comment or that quick twitch of a smile. But he didn’t. You knew your mom usually took a break around 8 pm, and you called the hospital, needing to hear her voice.

“Hi, honey. Is everything okay?”

You anxiously bounced your knee, feeling like you were about to cry again.

“…honey? Are you okay?” Now there was worry in your mom’s voice too.

“I’m—I’m okay. It’s just—Daryl wasn’t at school today… We had planned to walk together and he never showed up, and then—he wasn’t in any of our classes…” you trailed off. Your mom knew Daryl’s home life was bad, but you’d never told her how bad. Daryl had made it clear plenty of times that he didn’t want you telling anyone—not your mom, not the school counselors, not his teachers, not the cops, no one.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. You twirled the phone cord anxiously around your finger, winding and unwinding. “Well, maybe he was just sick today,” your mom offered.

“Mom, Daryl doesn’t get sick.” You chewed your bottom lip. “When Daryl gets ‘sick’ it’s because—because stuff at home has gone really wrong.”

Her silence on the other end of the line was heavy until she finally sighed. “I wondered. I mean, I’m a nurse for Pete’s sake. It’s not like I didn’t see the signs. Oh, honey… and how could anyone ever lay a hand on that boy? He’s got a heart of gold.” Her voice was low and sad.

“I know… What—what do we do?”

“I suppose, unfortunately, we just have to wait and see if he’s back tomorrow. It’s only one day… If he’s not at school tomorrow, you tell me and I will deal with it,” she said. “Try not to worry yourself too much, hun. I’m sure he’s fine.” But her tone was half-hearted and you were unconvinced. Your stomach twisted as you thought about more endless hours of waiting ahead. “I gotta get back to work, sugar. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Mom. I’m fine. I’ll see you in the morning. Have a good night at work.”

“Love you,” she cooed.

“Love you too,” you said. You hung up and your house had never felt emptier.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You were lying in bed staring up at the ceiling, knowing sleep wasn’t going to come, when you thought you heard something on your window. Your first thought was that a cicada or other insect had flown into the window. It was a small plink sound against the glass. But when it happened again, you shot upright in bed. And then it came again. You rushed over to the light switch and flipped it on and then went to the window and pulled back the curtains.

You could barely see a familiar silhouette by the dim glow of the porch light. You hastily pushed the window open. “Daryl?”

“Hey.”

“Just—just hang on! I’ll come let you in!” You raced downstairs and clicked on the hall light, unlocking and throwing the front door wide open. He was standing on the steps and you could see that one of his eyes was almost swollen shut and was surrounded by angry bruising. “Oh my God.” You felt all the air leave your lungs in a rush. “Daryl…” you stepped back to let him in.

He strode in past you, ducking his head a bit. “Yeah. He’s usually pretty careful about hiding ‘em. Guess his hand slipped on that one…”

You closed the front door and locked it again, turning to take him in. Daryl watched your eyebrows knit together and form a deep worry line in your forehead. The next second you had thrown your arms around him in a hug, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. “I was so worried about you!”

You heard him let out a strained exhale, a wince really, even as his hands landed on your back and he hugged you back. You pulled back suddenly and Daryl’s hands slipped onto the bare skin of your upper arms. “You’re hurt worse?” you asked him, looking up into his bruised face.

His hands dropped from you and you both lamented the break in contact. Daryl ducked his head again. “M’fine. What the hell were you thinkin’ comin’ to my damn house? Are ya crazy?” But you could see that he was almost smiling as he said it.

“I was thinking that I needed to know you were okay,” you said, turning and leading the way into the kitchen, flicking the light on as you went. “You heard that?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, nodding. “I was—I couldn’t get to ya.”

You nodded, your expression sad and overwhelmed with worry. “Your dad is…”

“A bastard,” he said, sinking down onto one of the chairs at the table. “Ya. I know. M’sorry ya had to go through that.”

You looked at him with consternation. “Are you kidding? You’re apologizing to me? Daryl…” You went to the freezer and grabbed out a bag of frozen vegetables and wrapped it in a clean dish towel. “Here. Put this on your face,” you said.

Daryl mumbled a thank you and pressed the makeshift cold pack over his eye. He was wearing a black t-shirt and as you stood beside him you noticed some dark spots on the material. You gulped. “Daryl…”

“Hmm?” he glanced over at you and saw that your eyes were fixed on his back. His stomach twisted. “S’nothin’,” he said.

You gave him a skeptical and deeply concerned glance. “Let me see,” you said gently.

He dropped the ice pack from his eye again and hesitated for a moment, nervously licking his lips and bouncing his knee. He trusted you, more than anyone, but this was still hard… Finally, he set down the ice pack and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, tugging it off over his head, wincing as he moved.

When the light cotton was pulled clear, you saw that his entire torso, his ribs, his sides, his back, all a cruel dark purple with shades of black and blue. Across his back were raised lashes, some open and bleeding, the reason for the dark spots you had seen on his t-shirt. He sat there with his eyes turned down and his shoulders slumped forward.

You couldn’t help it. The tears just started streaming out as you looked at what had been done to him.

“Hey,” he said, turning toward you a little, hearing your hitched breathing. His blue eyes landed on your face, took in your desperate expression. “S’alright,” he drawled softly.

Those words only made the tears pour out faster. “I should be saying that to you—” you managed. “But I don’t even know if that’s true. Daryl, you can’t keep livin’ there with him. He could kill you one of these times.”

He gulped. He knew you were right. Of course he did… “Where the hell am I supposed to go? Run off and find Merle? Go into the system? Because you and I both know neither of those are gonna work.”

You hastily wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Here. You can come here. I can talk to my mom—”

“Nah. Nah, ya’ve already done enough for me. Ya do enough. Christ, Y/N, ya pack me a damn lunch every day. I eat dinner here more nights than not.”

“It’d be fine! My mom loves you! And—and so do I,” you said quietly. You felt nervous flutters in your stomach. You’d never told him that before, but it was true.

Daryl’s eyes snapped up to your face again and he gulped.

“You’d be safe here. And taken care of the way ya deserve to be,” you said.

Part of him wanted that more than anything. He wanted to agree and escape from the shit life he was living in that shit house with his shit father. But the idea of being a burden, and he truly believed that’s all he would be, the sense that he wasn’t worth it was so engrained in him that he rebelled against that other part of him that wanted to reach out for help, for escape. He avoided your glassy eyes again and shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, with no small amount of effort.

You felt like your heart was breaking. “Why not?”

He wouldn’t look at you. You just wanted him to look up at you. You wanted to see his blue eyes and convince him. But he wouldn’t. “I just can’t…”

“Daryl—”

“No! It—it ain’t your job to save me, alright? And I ain’t—I ain’t your burden! Just leave it alone.”

“You’re not a burden.” You tried to swallow the tightness in your throat but it didn’t work. You sniffled and wiped the tears from your cheeks again. You’d pushed him enough. You let it drop. “Is he gonna know you’re gone?”

Daryl replaced the ice pack on his swollen and bruised eye. “Nah. He’s on his next bender now. He’ll be so drunk he can’t see straight for at least the next few days.”

You nodded. “Okay. Let’s get you patched up and somethin’ to eat,” you said quietly. You filled a glass with ice water and grabbed the lunch you had packed for him that day from the fridge, setting them down in front of him at the table. You grabbed his bloodstained t-shirt and murmured a soft “I’ll be right back.”

After throwing in some more laundry, his shirt with it, you climbed the stairs and retrieved the First Aid kit from under the sink in your bathroom. You paused for a moment, leaning heavily on your hands, gripping the edge of the basin so hard your knuckles were white. You glanced up at your pale and somewhat wide-eyed expression and wiped a few more stray tears away, steeling yourself. You needed to just be strong for him. You knew he was trying his hardest to hold himself together and you going to pieces wouldn’t help anything. You’d spoken your piece and there was nothing else to do at that moment besides care for him.

You came down with a pile of supplies and dumped them on the kitchen table next to him.

Daryl seemed frozen, still as stone, holding the ice pack to his eye and occasionally drinking for the glass of water you’d given him. You grabbed a washcloth and wet it with some alcohol. Daryl twitched a little as your fingers landed lightly on his bare shoulder.

You withdrew for a moment after he startled. “Sorry,” you said, replacing your hand gently. “This is gonna sting,” you said.

“Can’t be worse than it is now,” he said quietly.

You could tell his wounds hadn’t been tended to at all and it took you some time to carefully clean the dried blood from them, dabbing gently at the raw skin and cuts. You worked in silence and Daryl nervously bounced his leg and spun the water glass on the ring of condensation it had shed onto the table.

After you were satisfied that they were clean, you grabbed some ointment and spread it over the entire length of each as gently as you could. Your stomach twisted as you stepped back and took in the whole view of his wounds and bruises. “Alright. Done.”

“Thanks,” he murmured.

“Here. Take some of these,” you said, putting a bottle of Advil in front of him. “I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain.”

You moved around in front of him and sank down on a chair, sighing. Your brow was still knit and Daryl read the worry still on your face. “M’alright,” he said.

You shook your head. “No. You’re not.” You paused and grabbed the makeshift ice pack, replacing it in the freezer before nudging your head toward the staircase in the hall. “C’mon. You’re stayin’ here with me tonight.”

Daryl’s brow quirked down and he briefly chewed his bottom lip. “…Why?”

“Because it’s safe. And I just can’t let you go back there. And you need real sleep and we both know that you won’t get that if you’re under the same roof as him.”

Daryl considered your determined expression and finally nodded. “Alright.” He stood up, wrapping an arm around his ribs as they ached when he moved, and followed you up the stairs. You flicked the lights off as you went.

The door to your bedroom was standing open and Daryl hesitated at the threshold as you pulled the blankets back on your bed. You tossed an extra pillow down next the one already at the head of the bed.

Daryl gulped, nerves at the thought of staying with you so close all night suddenly overwhelming the aches and pains running through him. “I’ll take the floor,” he drawled.

You shot him a quizzical look. “You’re not taking the floor,” you said. “You’re covered in bruises. Come on. You take the other side. Just shut the door behind you.”

After shifting his weight a bit nervously for a moment, he finally crossed the threshold and shut the door softly behind him. You settled down in bed, heaving a sigh as your head hit the pillow. Daryl gingerly laid down on the other side, facing in toward you. His eyes met yours as he settled in, wincing a little as he moved his arm up under the pillow. You were close together, your faces merely six inches apart and Daryl could see your eyes flitting over his face.

“Ya sure this is alright?” he drawled quietly. “Yer mom…”

You shrugged. “She won’t even know. It’s okay.”

Daryl licked his lips absently and nodded.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

Daryl looked puzzled.

“It’s not fair,” you went on. “That someone as good as you has this happening to them.”

Daryl gulped nervously again, your words kindling a rush of heat in his chest which seemed to spill into his face. “Ain’t yer fault.”

You nodded, looking a bit sad, but beautiful in the warm glow of the single lamp on your nightstand. You turned and clicked it off, and maybe it was the darkness that gave you the courage to, but you reached over and found Daryl’s hand with yours in the dark and slipped yours beneath it, pressing your palm to his.

Daryl felt his stomach flip with surprise but he thrilled at the grounding touch from you. For once stopping himself from overthinking it, he laced his fingers with yours, and soon both of you were asleep.

_ _ _ _ _ _

Some years later

“Don’t fucking move.”

Daryl froze, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth.

“Put your hands up where I can see them. Away from the bow.” The voice belonged to a woman and despite the tense and potentially dangerous situation he now found himself in, Daryl felt his stomach flip, seemingly responding to the voice peculiarly.

“Stand up.” Daryl obeyed and stood up slowly, in disbelief that he hadn’t heard whoever the hell this was approaching in the almost silent woods. That left him feeling particularly curious and a little uneasy. He didn’t like that anyone was able to sneak up on him… “Now turn around. Slowly.”

Again, Daryl complied, his hands still up, turning slowly to face toward the woman holding him at gunpoint.

But neither him nor you expected the person in front of you and you felt a tug somewhere behind your navel and the muzzle of your gun dropped involuntarily just as your mouth fell partially open. You felt like the air was ripped out of your lungs as you took in the familiar face in front of you. “What the hell?” The words fell from your lips without you even knowing it. But you would recognize those blue eyes anywhere. You lowered your gun the rest of the way. “D—Daryl?”

He finally dropped his hands his eyes narrowed and intense. “Are ya gonna shoot me?” he drawled. His voice was deep and gruff and you felt goosebumps rising on your skin. One corner of his mouth flicked up in the same way it always had back when you were kids.

You gulped, your hands still on your pistol. “Do I need to?”

He let out a gruff laugh. “Nah. I dun think so.”

You holstered your gun, still paralyzed, your boots seemingly rooted into the soil.

Daryl was the first one to move. He rushed over to you and hugged you almost desperately, but you were still in such a state of shock that by the time you moved to return it he was already breaking away. Your eyes were searching as you looked at him and he just peered back at you with that classic Daryl Dixon stare.

“S’real fuckin’ good to see you, Y/N,” he said. He bent and picked up his crossbow, swinging it over himself and onto his back in a fluid and well-practiced movement. He tilted his head at you. “Why the hell did ya stick me up, hmm?” he asked.

You snapped yourself out of your reverie, actually shaking your head slightly. “Uhh—My camp is near here. I don’t like strangers,” you said absently, still unable to trust your eyes that this man standing in front of you was the boy from your past. “Daryl—” You weren’t even sure where to start but you suddenly felt a swell of anger. “Daryl, what the fuck?” you demanded.

He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

“I—I thought—you just—you left! You were just gone!” Before you knew it there were tears spilling out onto your cheeks and your anger was rising. “What the fuck!?” you yelled at him. You rushed toward him and pushed him hard in the chest. He simply took it and staggered backwards. “Why did you do that?! You didn’t even say goodbye to me! You didn’t tell me you were leaving, you didn’t tell me anything! You just—you were just gone! Do you know what I thought? Do you have any idea?!” You shoved him again and still he just took it and stepped back to regain his balance. “I thought maybe you were dead!” The tears were pouring out more quickly onto your cheeks and you reached out to shove him back again, but this time he gently caught your arm and held it. His eyes were soft and you crumbled underneath them. “I thought maybe you were dead. I thought your dad—” you gasped in a heaving breath.

“M’sorry,” he said. You stared at him, fighting emotion. “M’sorry,” he said again. He gently tugged you closer to him and you allowed it. “M’so sorry.”

You fell into him and felt his arms wrap around you as you squeezed your eyes shut. “M’sorry, Y/N,” he whispered to you. His hands flattened out on your back and smoothed over it and he held you until were able to stop yourself from crying. You straightened up, hastily wiping the tear streaks off your cheeks.

You laughed a little wryly at yourself. “This is so stupid. I’m—I’m crying over something that happened over a decade ago,” you murmured.

“S’cuz it still feels like it just happened yesterday. Ain’t stupid,” he said.

You took him in for a moment and then nodded. “Yeah. It does.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You brought Daryl back to your camp and you both did you best to catch the other up one what life had been like since those hazy summer high school days. Most of it didn’t seem to matter anymore now that the world was what it was—all nightmarish and broken. But there was one question you had to ask him as you sat by the campfire that night.

“If you could do it over,” you hesitated, “would you do the same thing?”

“Hmm?” he hummed, a questioning noise.

“Would you just leave, like you did? Or would you do it differently?”

Daryl considered you quietly for a long moment. He had always thought you were beautiful and that hadn’t changed. He had always known you were kind and smart and caring and funny… and that hadn’t changed either, despite the hell around you now. And he still felt like there was a string, a golden thread that led from his heart to yours, tying the two of you together, and that still felt connected. It had never been cut. Not after all the time and all the distance. “I ask myself that just about every day. Think about ya every day,” he said, feeling a bit bashful under the gaze of your brilliant eyes. He turned back to stare at the crackling fire in front of you both. “I dunno if it woulda turned out any better or worse, or even any different but—I do regret not havin’ ya around all this time. Maybe my biggest regret in life.” He glanced up at you again and marveled at your thoughtful, open, and slightly sad expression.

You nodded subtly. “Mine too.”

“The reason I didn’t come tell ya I was leavin’—” he hesitated, biting his bottom lip anxiously. “Is because I knew ya’d try to stop me. I knew ya’d ask me to stay… and if—if ya asked me that, there would be no way I could go.”

You gave him a sad smile and had to blink away the glistening moisture in your eyes again. You cleared your throat and nodded. “I’m still mad at you,” you joked softly.

He let out a small laugh. “Thas fair…” Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “So, yer really alone out here?” he asked.

You nodded.

“Well, I’ve got a group. Good people. Family. If ya wanted to, ya can come back with me. Yer—yer family too. I promise they’re all good people,” he drawled. He watched you carefully, anxiously trying to read your reaction.

You nodded slowly. “I trust you,” you said.

He cleared his throat, feeling a swell of happiness at your response. “I won’t leave ya again,” he said.

You quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Ya better not.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #teen!daryl #teenage!daryl dixon #twd pre-outbreak

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eartht137 · 3 years

Text

FOR THE BETTER

Hello and greetings to anyone that gets to read this. It is my first story. I wanted to try and see how this was received before continuing so please feel free to let me know how you like it. Please be easy on me it is my first one I am new to this, but I hope you like it. Its a bit slow right now but I swear the chapters will get going as we go along on this ride together. Okay *curvies* love ya! Enjoy!

Dark Clark Kent x (Black)!Plus Size Reader

SUMMARY: (I suck at them but here goes) After working miserable unfulfilling jobs, you decide to go back to school to pursue your dream in writing. You get the very handsome, very smart Mr. Kent as your English/Literature Professor. You've always stayed to yourself preferring to have your alone time and focus on your writing. Mr. Kent comes in to shake that way of thinking up and its all with your best interest at heart (well his best interest at heart){Cheesy, am I right?}

"For the weekend's assignment. Something very simple, almost high school level. Don't complicate it." Mr. Kent said dragging his feet to tell you all what the stupid assignment was.

"Get to the point." You thought out loud as you rested your head in your hand. He glared at you for moment before continuing. You felt your face flush, because-'no way he heard me' you thought.

"I want you all to write me a paper on...one thing you like about yourself and why." He rushed out. "I want you all to be as genuine as possible, if you're going to be journalists you have to capture your audience. If you can sell yourself, then you can sell a story. If you're a snooze fest......I honestly don't know what to tell you" He chuckled

Everyone groaned because why???

"Due next Monday on the dot. NO EXCEPTIONS!" He belted. "If you don't have your paper on Monday, you will stand up and give a 5 minute speech on said topic."

'What kind of teenage topic is this?' You thought.

"Don't give me lip guys, you signed up for this. I didn't make you do anything." He said pointing at all of you. "No complaining. Monday! Class dismissed." He announced causing everyone to scatter. You were just about out the door when he stopped you.

"Y/n, can you stay back for bit?"

"Yeah sure." You immediately got nervous. You weren't used to being singled out, you always managed to stay below the radar. You'd figured out ways to stay out of sight out of mind after always being criticized by your family, so getting asked to stay back wasn't a normal thing. You braced yourself for the "you can do better speech" and hoped it wouldn't take too long. You watched as the room emptied and he gathered his stuff.

"Come on, lets step into my office." He said leading the way with his hands full. "Have a seat." he said motioning to the chair in front of his desk. you sat feeling butterflies in the pit of your stomach. Literally everyone would've given anything to be where you were. Mr. Kent was almost mythical. You didn't know a day where you didn't think 'DAMN that man know he fine!' And you knew he knew it.

"Bet you think I'm gonna talk about your grades." he chuckled. "While I do require your improvement,"

'Require?' you thought hoping your face didn't covey your attitude.

"I wanted to talk about something else."

"O-kay?"

"I've notice, you're very um...to yourself, is everything-"

'Oh there it is.'

"Mr. Kent, please don't analyze me. I am a whole different breed of human. I don't do people."

"I'm sorry?" he asked tilting his head.

"I just value my alone time. You can't have that with people."

"You can still have space with other people in your life." he said shaking his head at you.

"I didn't say space, I said alone time, and that's not the same. That's still with people. Like, no." you said crossing you arms.

He stared at your for a second, the he began to laugh, and rub his eyes. "You really are something."

"Mm-hmm its true."

"I'm just saying its healthy to get out and socialize every once and awhile, not all the time, I mean-don't you get lonely sometimes?

"No, not really. I mean don't give me wrong I'm human. I get the urge to hang out, then I do, then I remember why I didn't want to do it in the first place." you said realizing you were almost ranting. He eyed you as if he didn't believe you.

"I tell you what, I know you say you're fine, but for my sanity, can we be friends? You know just someone to check on you, make sure you're okay? If-if you hate it by the end of the week then I'll let it go."

"Mr. Kent, no offense, but why do you care? I mean, you have your own life, I'm sure you got a nice family you should be there for, so like....I'm gonna need a it all to make sense."

"Its mean, don't get me wrong I enjoy solitude too, and its not because I don't like people," he chuckled, "but I know what its like to sometimes need someone I could just talk to when I really needed it most and not having it. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. Its funny because it would always lead me home."

"Well that's the difference between you and me, there is no going back." you sighed. You contemplated it 'It couldn't hurt could it?' "Okay."

"Okay?"

"We can be friends." you resigned.

"Great!" he said clapping his hands together.

"Only til the end of the week." You said standing stretching. "So we good? Can I go?"

"Actually, what are you doing tonight? I mean, my ma is cooking dinner and-"

"Okay anything food related, I'm down." You cut him off.

"Good, well I'll pick you up at 6?"

"Yeah sure." You said trying to get away.

"Uh, Y/n?"

"Yes?" You asked sweetly.

"I'm going to need your address." He said knowing you knew he needed it.

You gave you your information and booked it out of there. You immediately went home and took a nap. The whole ordeal was a bit draining for you.

It was your phones constant vibrating that woke you out of a deep sleep. You let it ring a few more times before picking it up.

"What?" You groaned into the phone.

"Y/n are ready? I'm like 15 minutes away." Mr. Kent asked.

"Ready for what?"

"Food?"

"Food? Food! Oh shit!" You said jumping up remembering dinner plans. "I'll be ready when you get here." You said quickly hanging up and rushing to get ready. By the time you felt you looked decent enough, he called and told he was there. When you walked out to meet him, you saw his girlfriend was with him and you put on a small smile. 'Of course he has a girlfriend, why wouldn't he. Still a bummer though, oh well.' you thought to yourself as you walked toward them.

"Y/n this is Lois, Lois this is Y/n. Lois is one of the top editors at the Daily Planet." He bragged, and you immediately got nervous. You'd read her work and you'd give to be as good, even better at writing.

"It really is nice to meet you, Clark speaks very highly of you and your writing." she said smiling.

"Really? I mean writing is my passion, I'm aspiring to get at least in the door. I'm not an editor or professor, but I think I'm okay." You said realizing you were babbling on because of your anxiety.

"Be confident in your work. It shows when you really mean what you're writing about. It also shows when you're doubting yourself." She said smiling at you. You immediately liked her and hoped to get to know her for advice sometime. You all got in and they fell into easy chatter along the way. Every now and again they'd touch on a topic you'd find interesting or be excited about, and you'd really get into it, smiling and being expressive. You'd catch Clark staring at you, a bit shocked at how much you had to say after months of being so quiet, and you'd retreat like a turtle back into your shell. You tried to not enjoy being around them, but every now and again, you liked talking to people on your level. Every now and again, you'd get lost in the breeze of the night air. You'd look out and get lost looking at the stars and the moon out of the open window of the moving car. You get so lost you forgot the other two people in the car and you'd miss the glances Clark took at you through the rearview mirror. When you all arrived at his moms farm you practically gawked at all the land around. You driven by open field and corn fields, you'd never actually gotten to see it up close.

As you all got out, his mom stepped out and waved at you.

"Well, looks like we got extra family tonight." she said smiling. You immediately felt a bit awkward. "Oh dear don't be shy, any friend of Clark is family." She said pulling you into a big hug.

"Thank you for having me Mrs. Kent." You said smiling.

"No go on now you just call me Martha." she said smiling and leading you inside. "You two come along, you know the routine." She said waving Lois and Clark inside. Dinner was great, you even found yourself laughing out loud. It exhilarated you and scared you to have such a good time around other people. You almost, ALMOST, didn't want the night to end, but you missed your bed. As if reading your mind, Clark announced it was time to leave.

"Looks like someone is ready for bed." He chuckled.

"Yep, I miss my solitude." You said stretching. Clark shook his head at you.

"What?" You asked innocently.

You said your final farewells and got in the car heading home. The ride home was peaceful, there was a calm silence between you three and you smiled watching the love exchanges between the two. You could see how much he loved her and you could understand why, Lois was beautiful woman. Your mind jumped from reasons you weren't in a relationship, to the assignment Clark had given you for the weekend. One thing you like about yourself? That topic was always hard for you and you couldn't even begin to find the words to start. Over the years you'd tried hard to accept yourself, love yourself, and be who you were unapologetically, but the moment you got to the threshold of truly giving yourself a chance, all of the criticism, judgment, and years of being invalidated filled you with fear and dread and you'd go back to your shell and do what you did best. Stay in your own bubble. Tears stung your eyes as you tried to stomp down the voices of doubt and resentment, 'It's okay, I'm good, I do what I have to and I'm happy with it. I'm at peace.' you thought to yourself over and over.

"You okay?" Clarks deep voice full of concerned pulled you from your thoughts and you shook you head to bring yourself back to reality.

"Yeah, just trying to stay awake." you said avoiding his gaze. The ride continued in silence and you couldn't help but drift off. One moment you were letting the ride soothe you to sleep and the next you heard a voice cooing you to sleep.

"Shh shh shh it's okay" Clark whispered. You couldn't help but cover your eyes. You were in Clark's arms as he carried you to the apartment.

"Woah," you said trying to get out of his arms. He gently placed you on your feet like a flower.

"Hey, its okay, calm down." He said gently rubbing your arms.

"S-sorry, I've just never-"

"Had anyone carry you before." He said finishing your sentence. You shifted feeling a bit awkward.

"Well, thanks for dinner. Thanks Lois!" You waved at her before going to your door. "Goodnight." you said one last time as you got inside. During the weekend you were extremely restless and was finding it hard to concentrate long enough to work on your assignment. Even when you sat waiting for words to form in your mind you eventually got busy doing something different. The night before class, you had an idea pop in your head, and you decided to go for it. You just hoped it would all make sense, it was the only think your mind focused on.

#dark clark kent #x black reader #plus size reader #smut fic

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gainerstories · 3 years

Text

Professor Plump

*UNLOCKED*

As a big fat thank you to everyone who has supported this blog and enjoyed my stories, I am unlocking one of my favorite stories off Patreon. This has been a rough year for everyone and y’all enjoy a little treat. Of course, if you want more (20+ more fattening stories in fact) you know where to go. Enjoy.

As much as Robert Daniels loved being a professor, he woke up full of dread on the first day of fall semester. At 28 he was the youngest tenure track faculty in his department and he often felt that all eyes were on him. His first academic year had been rough, exhausting, and tiresome and he wasn’t ready to get back in the game. He just wanted his beautifully sunny and lazy summer vacation to last one or two more months.

As he sat up in bed his belly spilled forward pushing down his morning wood. There was no doubt he’d gained quite a bit of pudge in the last few months. It didn’t bother him, however, as most of his colleagues were plump and he viewed extra weight as a sign of contentment and maturity. During the school year he had actually lost weight from stress and being overworked. His new, rounder form lent a sense of satisfaction.

As Robert stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom to shower he took a close look at himself. He’d be turning 29 soon and was finally starting to look like a man. His face had grown scruffy and his chest hair finally bloomed across his pecs and down to his puffy stomach. The thirty pounds of fat that clung to his belly also gave him a more mature look. He was now firmly within “dad bod” territory and wore that badge with pride. He scooped his fat up with both his hands and gave it a hearty jiggle. He wondered if anyone on campus would comment on his somewhat weight gain.

Turning around, Robert examined his rear which was now fluffy and dimpled with cellulite. He noticed that even his ass had grown a bit hairier along with a small patch of fuzz on his lower back, framed between two bulging love handles. He could recall seeing the same patch on his father and wondering if the same was in store for himself. This memory cemented his perceived transition into manhood.

Robert’s thighs had also thickened up a bit and now touched when he was standing straight. He rubbed his thighs and gave them a slap, admiring how they bounced. Lately, he had no choice but to manspread when he sat down. Crossing his legs was a thing of the past. The added weight on his lower half gave him a sense of groundedness. All around the extra pudge made him feel strong and unshakable, despite jiggling quite a lot when he actually did shake.

Most of this excess poundage had been accrued during a month long cruise down Central America. Robert had spent almost every single day getting tipsy on fruity blended drinks and satisfying his drunchies from dusk ‘til dawn at the buffet. Carbs became his best friend, soaking up the sugary alcoholic concoctions he guzzled during the day. Altogether, cruise life was a much needed respite from the long nights of grading papers and doing research during the academic year.

His salary did not allow him to indulge in fancy foods very often, and so this cruise was an opportunity to go hog wild. He made a conscious decision to eat and live like a king. As a result, he began to notice his body expanding only midway through the trip. It seemed as though out of nowhere he had grown a squishy paunch that jutted out behind his shirts. By the end of the vacation he was even larger, noticing fat accumulating all over his body.

As he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, Robert found himself particularly fascinated by the small white stretch marks that had formed at the top of his inner thighs. He traced his fingers over their subtle indentations. He hadn’t seen fresh stretch marks since puberty when his shoulders expanded overnight one summer. He was shocked to see the same thing happen simply from overeating on a long vacation.

Plump, tan, and satisfied, Robert stepped into the shower with vigor and began to get ready for his first day back to work. He trimmed his wild scruff back to a presentable shadow and styled his hair. He then slipped into underwear that clung more than usual to his meaty rump and resultantly compressed his bulge more than usual. He would have to remember to buy some new pairs. T-shirts had also grown a bit snug but this was not a huge concern for they would be hidden behind a button up. What he hadn’t considered was that his button ups from last year would also struggle to fit around his new body.

Robert sucked in his gut while doing each button. He let his stomach spill forward and was shocked at just how much the shirt did not fit. Scrambling through his closet he found the loosest button up he owned and put it on. It was still snug and would definitely be strained when he sat down, but it would have to suffice. Next, he slid into his stretchiest pair of chinos and was instantly filled with anxiety.

The fabric clung to his thighs and ass leaving little to the imagination. This would have been tolerable except for the fact that the waistband would not button no matter how hard he tried. With no other option, Robert scrounged a safety pin from the utility drawer and fastened the pants closed. Donning one of his bulkier belts he hoped no one would notice he’d outgrown his pants.

His day commenced with a faculty meeting catered with coffee and pastries. Although he had eaten a breakfast sandwich immediately upon getting to campus, he grabbed a healthy looking danish for the meeting. It was dry and mediocre as campus food tended to be, but that didn’t stop him from inhaling it within minutes. A few of his colleagues eyed his bulging waistline although no one made a comment.

Midway through the two hour meeting Robert found that his stomach was already growling to be fed. With no other choice, he would have to eat another Danish despite the fact he would be the only one going for seconds. He stood to grab one more danish and as he sat down he heard the unmistakable noise of a seam busting. Praying no one else heard, he subtly reached down to his thighs where a small hole had formed.

After the meeting he headed straight to the bathroom to examine the damage. It wasn’t too bad, maybe just an inch or so large. Plus, his underwear matched his pants so it was barely noticeable. He figured he could get through the day without anyone noticing. Although no one noticed the tear in his pants, his students were fully aware of his newfound growth.

“Mr. Daniels lookin’ THICK,” someone commented before his first class began.

Robert ignored the comment and got on with his lecture. Still, in the back of his head he worried about his appearance and snug outfit. There was no question he would be investing in some new work clothes. By the end of the class he was hungry once again. At least it was lunch time, so he felt justified in heading to the student union for a big meal. He grabbed a massive burrito, chips and guac, a cookie, and large soda which he brought back to his desk.

Such a filling lunch was exactly what he needed. The food was comforting and satisfying, giving the plump professor a sense of peace. After scarfing it all down he leaned back in his chair and sighed. Just as he did so two buttons on his shirt went shooting across the room. “Fuck,” he said aloud to himself and went searching for the buttons so he could sew them back on. As he knelt on his hands and knees he felt the contents of his belly slosh forward and the seam of his pants rip even further.

Eventually, he found the missing buttons and broke out the sewing kit to get them back on. By the time he was finished stitching himself back into his clothes, there was someone knocking at his door. He’d forgotten about office hours. In a mad rush he cleaned the food wrappers off his desk and greeted the student. As he sat back down at his desk the same two buttons snapped back off and shot under his desk. Although the student overtly stared at Robert’s bulging gut, filled to the brim with his fattening lunch, neither of them acknowledged the embarrassment.

After the student left, Robert took off the button up and slipped his spare sport coat over his tee. The tee was more than a little snug and definitely didn’t hide much- the indentation of his belly button was fully visible- but it would have to do. After a constant stream of students over the course of an hour Robert rushed to his next class. The lecture left Robert feeling exhausted and tired. It was evening and he had grown peckish again, so he decided to grab a bite to eat before he had a meeting with the dean and could go home.

Hawaiian barbecue sounded like a good idea when he ordered it. However, after gobbling up every last morsel, the young professor felt uncomfortably full and bloated. He yearned for to return to the cruise ship where he could take a long nap after overindulging, but instead he sluggishly headed to the dean’s office. His belly had swelled considerably with the Hawaiian food and he found himself having to stretch the hem of his shirt down to ensure his gut was fully concealed.

Once inside, Robert cautiously took a seat in one of the rickety old chairs in the waiting room for the dean. After a few seconds he felt a snap underneath his ass as the seat of the chair gave way. Trying to be as subtle as possible, Robert cautiously lifted himself from the broken chair and casually examined a painting on the wall until the dean greeted him.

Once inside, the dean offered him a home baked muffin that his wife had made. Robert tried to refuse at first but the dean pushed it on him. He began pecking at the muffin and realized it was indeed quite moist and delicious. He polished it off in a couple minutes and resisted licking his fingers. By the end of the meeting the dean persuaded Robert to take one more muffin for the road. Without a second thought, Robert greedily snatched the biggest muffin of the bunch.

As he walked through the campus at night, illuminated by lanterns, Robert gobbled up the muffin while reflecting on the fact that he was in desperate need of a new wardrobe. His belly was stuffed to capacity and the sheer weight of it bulging out in front of him forced Robert to walk slow and steady with his shoulders back and hips forward. Freed from his constricting button up, his rounded gut peeked out from behind the sport coat and wobbled back and forth with each step to his car.

The walk seemed longer than usual, likely because he was slower than usual. Somewhat winded, Robert couldn’t wait to sit down as he opened the door to his hatchback. However, as he did so, a booming snap assaulted his ears and he felt his belly spill forward into his lap. Robert’s belt had completely snapped in half while the thigh of his pants simultaneously split all the way open from knee to crotch. His girth was simply too much to contain.

At least it happened at the end of the day, he told himself.

#gainer stories #professorplump

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lydias--stiles · 3 years

Text

“The simple act of being in love with you is enough for me.”

jiara | post-s2 | pining idiots | title: quote by Pacey from Dawson's Creek

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

“Kie.”

“Hm?” The girl’s mop of curls obscured her face as she mumbled out some vowels, clearly still buzzed from the night before. An amused smile ticked up his lips and slapped her calf again. She sighed. “What?”

“Leggo,” he pushed, “we gotta get to Pope’s place.”

“Why?”

Even if everyone else would deny it, JJ swore Kie was as bad as he was: slow and fucking lethargic before eleven in the morning. Sure, she had better grades in school, but he wasn’t gonna give her more credit than that. Speaking of, “Helping him with that new scholarship, remember?”

The girl groaned and rolled over to face him, droopy eyes cracking open to scowl at him. She slept where he used to crash whenever his dad’s place became too much, but since the old man fucked off to Yucatán, he found peace in the quiet walls and cracked windows. Regardless, it was weird seeing her sprawled on this mattress, the boy almost able to envision himself beside her. A dangerous fantasy to linger on, so he pushed it aside and kept on trucking.

“C’mon, Kie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered and sat upright. “How did you even get in the Château?”

JJ grinned and snagged a key chain from his shorts. “Spare key. Duh.”

She rolled her eyes, uttering, “John B’s stupid,” and then pushed him out the guest room, telling him she’d get ready. His mouth opened to make the joke if he couldn’t stay and watch, but the door slammed in his face and that was that.

Having a crush on Kiara was the freakiest thing ever. First of all, JJ and emotions didn’t mesh well — it only led to trouble, a perfect example being his dad and him with the most fucked up dynamic to boot. He preferred to not even think about the man, though one glance in the mirror often betrayed his mind and brought a rush of memories to the forefront, whether it was a shiner against his eye, or the fact that he resembled his father when he was young.

So yeah, he didn’t like anything ‘love’ related. It was stupid. It was more reckless than buying a jacuzzi or trying to steal a golden cross from a boat with dozens of armed men. Friendship, however, was easy. He told the Pogues just that: they were ‘it’ for him, he’d go through fire for them, through hell and fucking back.

But he didn’t think he’d actually die for them, which almost happened when he tried saving Kie on the Coastal Venture — to which she ended up saving him. (A vision illuminated by a golden sun, hovering over him. He’d never forget it.)

While he inspected the contents of the fridge, embarrassingly filled with only beer, eggs, milk and junk food, the door creaked open and revealed a dressed and less-wrecked Kiara. His gaze flicked up and down her frame, quick, and then averted it back to the fridge.

“You got no food, man.”

She chuckled. “I know. It’s not exactly The Wreck type of food…”

“You haven’t gone back?”

“Nope,” she replied, curt, and moved past him to shove a container of sausages aside to grab a bottle of almond milk. Even if she wasn’t with her parents, she still somehow kept up her ‘no dairy’ principles.

Also, Kiara was hella beautiful. He hadn’t let it register when she walked in, but it was true. Her soft-looking, shiny skin, sporting the prettiest smile in all of the OBX, and she was just hot. Especially when she propped herself on the kitchen counter, to which he settled beside her to not look at her legs.

“How many scholarships are there?” she asked. “Like, I’m obviously proud of him, but…”

“He told us last night,” JJ laughed. “You were that fucking high?”

She giggled, “Yeah! You were there, I was just on my ass.” And then, quieter, “And… I don’t know, I guess I’ve been kind of distracted.”

He perked up, surprised. Though the Pogues were family, openly talking about emotions when it wasn’t prompted by anything, remained rare. They were better at talking shit and smoking and napping on boats. Whatever, he took the bait.

“Why?”

She shook her head. “It’s stupid, JJ.”

“Kie, you’re talking to me,” he nudged her shoulder, “throw me a bone here. Is it Pope? You got the hots for our favourite nerd again?”

Taking a sip from the bottle, her brow quirked up as though that was the stupidest thing he ever said, and retorted with, “Why’re you always doing that?”

His hands raised instantly, defensive. “Doing what?”

“You’re always digging, like, when I was with Pope you got all weird.”

“I don’t dig.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. Kie, what’s up?” He kept it moving before she found the core of his problem, and bounced back to the original issue. “Before I start saying shit to Pope.”

She scoffed. “You're full of shit.”

“Oh, Kie,” he drawled with a smirk. “You can do better than that.”

Silence fell. He waited, fiddling with his fingers, and quietly hoped Pope wouldn't be too annoyed when they arrived late — then again, they were begrudgingly coined 'tortoise and tortoise' by the group anyway.

She placed the bottle back in the fridge and sent him a rueful smile, one he often saw her showing Sarah before they went aside and had a private talk. Their eyes locked and she finally spoke.

“Sometimes, I… I miss my parents. And it's like, I don't get how they don't just accept that I'm a Pogue, that I'm friends with you guys, you know? But I still miss them.” She looked down at her feet, crossing at the ankles like a little girl waiting to be reprimanded by the teacher. “I miss my dad's hugs.”

Instantly, his arm swung around her for a gentle side hug, a grateful smile pulling on her lips as she leaned into him. Both knew they should savour a moment like this, as hugging with a twitchy JJ and often irritated Kie happened once every blue moon.

Ignoring the guilty look in her eye — yeah, he didn't understand missing a paternal embrace, rather used to a blow in the stomach or a crude remark, but that didn't mean he lacked empathy — he resisted the urge to encourage her to reconnect with them. Knowing her, she'd just close up and glare at him for the rest of the day.

So no, he wasn't going to ask her. And no, she shouldn't feel guilty. P4L 'til the end, baby.

“Thanks, JJ,” she whispered.

He snickered and pushed her off. “You can't tell the guys I'm becoming soft, dude. Theyʼll give me so much shit for it.”

“They know you're soft,” she teased, “don't even try.”

“I'm tough,” he tried.

“Like Play-Doh.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled and motioned at the kitchen door. “Let's go, Carrera. Before John B and Sarah come back and act all married.”

Now that was fucking annoying. After John B and Sarah faked their death, they got married by a bandana strip and hadn't let that notion go after returning. Sure, there was that small blip when they were fighting the crazy religious chick, but that was old news.

John B made him swear he wouldn't tell a soul, but the guy waxed poetry about Sarah whenever they were drunk and alone. It was hilariously sad. Another man lost to a girl.

(“She wants a beach wedding,” JB sighed a couple nights ago. “Nice, right?”

“I– yeah, I really don't care about this, man.”)

JJ knew that when he got a girlfriend (Kiara unintentionally but also very intentionally crossed his mind), he'd act normal. No mushy shit. No poetry. Definitely no creepy Romeo and Juliet references thrown in as if that shouldn't freak the Pogues out. Their behaviour better not be infectious.

Expectedly, Pope's scowl reached them all the way from the car, Kie and JJ sharing a sheepish look before stepping out.

“Gee, guys,” the boy deadpanned, “thanks for making haste. Really appreciate it.”

JJ's wide grin hoped to salvage it. Slapping his friend on the shoulder, he pushed past him and yelled, “Kie was dead, dude!”

Pope grimaced. “Don't joke about that.”

He watched as Kie stopped beside Pope with an apologetic expression, telling him she overslept and was sorry and that he knew how JJ was — “Always joking.”

His chapped lips pursed, a familiar punch hitting his chest with him then pretending it didn't hurt. She always did this. Even if she claimed she didn't, she always took Pope's side. Relationship or not. JJ knew she didn't owe him her 'side', but it'd be a nice change of pace either way.

Whatever. This wasn't the JJ Pining For Kiara Show. Pope needed their help.

A state-wide scholarship competition gave Pope another shot at winning a huge chunk of money (no gold type of rich though) and getting his ass out of OBX, hopefully launching himself into some fancy college when he revealed to be of Denmark Tanny's lineage. Those hibrow assholes loved a good sob story.

All Pope had to do was score hella high on some test — easy — and impress the panel — not so easy — and he'd be the luckiest Pogue of all.

But that did mean Kie and him had to sit on his creaky bed with a freaky amount of flashcards while a stressed out Pope paced around his room. He was pretty sure the floor was eroding.

Also, he had no fucking clue what any of the flashcards meant. Did Pope's smarts really attracted Kie that much? Was it the brain? Brain over brawl? But where was the fun in that? JJ loved Pope to death, but the guy had to be fully medicated or high before his brain shut off and he acted carefree.

“Pope, do you even know what this all means?” Kie bemoaned, flipping the cards around.

“You got a dictionary somewhere?” added JJ, squinting at the word aberration. It sounded like some weird disease. He showed him the word.

Pope dismissed it. “It means: different from the norm.”

“Dude, why not write that then?”

“Because they want aberration.”

He didn't get it. “No one uses it though.”

“JJ, that's just the way it is,” Pope pressed.

“Guys, stop,” Kiara interrupted. “But honestly Pope, it's so, like, elitist. None of these questions are important to the world, or the well-being of the people.”

“Sorry, Kiara, but unfortunately not everyone cares that much,” he sighed. JJ could tell they were starting to annoy their friend, their tortoise bullshit bleeding through.

Her nose scrunched up, peeved. “Right. Because there's a planet B just waiting to be used by us. Duh.”

“Ooh,” JJ drawled, nudging her arm. “Are there donkeys shitting money?”

Kie laughed. “Yes. All beaches, clean air, no Kooks, and money-shitting donkeys.”

“Nah, I want it to be hella Kooky,” he joked, gesturing wildly. “I want a yacht and tell people someone else does my laundry, or something.”

“You don't even do your laundry anyway,” she bounced back with a roll of the eye. “I know you force John B.”

“He's already playing House with Sarah, might as well wash my underwear, too.”

Oh, man. He could do this all day. Talking shit with Kiara went as smooth as fishing for him. Each time he thought he one-upped her, she threw more on top and kept it going 'til neither knew what the point even was anymore. Sarah dubbed it as 'banter' which he believed was a rich way of saying 'talking smack.'

“I don't believe you even know how to do it,” she challenged.

JJ huffed and crossed his arms. “I can do it.”

A smirk bloomed on her lips as she kept jabbing. “It's kinda cute, how you need John B to be your mom.”

“I don't.”

“You literally said it five seconds ago.”

“Guys,” Pope groaned, followed by an exhausted sigh eerily similar to Heyward. “Can we get back to the flashcards?”

Kie and JJ were too far into their discussion though, jabbing at each other at rapid speed. Then she threw her cards at him and all bets were off. He yelled she should make a goal with her hands, to which he folded up a flashcard and shot it straight between her fingers.

And that was when Pope kicked them out. JJ presumed it was a victory they lasted as long as they did. Kie kept apologising over her shoulder, prompting Pope to ask Cleo for help instead.

For a beat, they were silent stepping out of his place and back into the car. JJ felt a stab of guilt for fucking up Pope's study time, but it was hard to dial his brain to school when his friends surrounded him. Just when he wanted to ask if she felt bad too, she went off about the climate — as usual.

“It's so dumb how there were no questions about the environment or human rights or, or anything like that! It's all science and lit, like, there's more to life than fucking chemistry formulas!”

“I skipped those cards. Didn't get them.”

“It's so fucked,” she hummed. “And I'm obviously glad that you drove to the Château to wake me up and all—”

“Yeah?”

“—but I really wish those questions would matter. We almost died, JJ!”

“No, shit,” he grumbled, quickly starting to lose his patience with the ranting girl. She didn't even realise what the fuck she was saying anymore — what she did to his heart, skipping like some elemtary school girl on the playground, when she slipped some nice words in.

“Died!” she pressed. “Why even care about stuff like that?”

“Fucks sake, Kie—”

“And I didn't want to say it, but did you see how many flashcards there were? How many trees were cut for that? It's like, hello, Quizlet exists!”

“Kie, shut up!” he yelled.

Her mouth fell slack, gobsmacked, gawking at him like his interruption was a slap in the face.

Gesturing wildly with one hand, he exclaimed, “You know, you can just go on and on and I hear you talking and it's like, yeah, we get it, Mother Earth needs to be saved, we're fucked, you don't gotta repeat it twenty-four seven.”

“What the hell, JJ!”

“You have an opinion about everything! A man gets tired!”

“A man?” She scoffed. “You're not even eighteen.”

“Point is you don't gotta act all preachy all the time.” He turned the corner, hands tightening around the steering wheel.

Kie scowled. “Where is this coming from? I'm not preachy, I'm educating you.”

Now that was just fucking with his head. Incredulous, he exclaimed, “You think I don't listen? Kie, I'm the only one that does. JB is on Planet Sarah all the damn time and Pope only did shit 'cause—"

"That!” she yelled, throwing her hands up with frustration. “That's what I mean! You're doing it again! You dig!”

“What?!”

“Every time you mention Pope and I, you dig. You needle!” Twisting in her seat, his gaze flickered to catch her disgruntled expression. “Why do you do that? It's so… sus.”

JJ laughed. “Sus?”

“You don't ask John B about Sarah.”

“'Cause they're fucking obvious.”

“Still,” she pressed. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that it? Is it me constantly asking you to recycle and yet — shocker! — you never do?!”

“Fucking God,” he grumbled under his breath.

With frazzled thoughts and shaking hands, adrenaline coursed through him as he swerved to the side of the road and stopped the car. If he fought with Kie any longer to this degree of fuckery, they were gonna crash.

She frowned. “What're you doing?”

“You, Carrera, are driving me insane,” he deadpanned, matter-of-fact. Then he slammed the door open and stepped out, desperate to catch his breath.

In the back of his mind, he had an inkling as to why he was so keyed up. Kiara would call him a Neandethal, but fuck it, here was the truth: Kiara was hot as hell when she argued with him.

Following his lead, she got out, her sneakers stomping against the asphalt. The sun steeped low on the horizon, the light hitting the hood and reflecting onto her face; her curls shifting from dark brown to gold. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He was so fucked. He almost missed the start of her spiel, too enthralled.

“I'm driving you insane? I'm always getting you out of trouble, because you never think things through! You never see the bigger picture!”

He rolled his eyes. “Bigger picture? The only thing I see, Kie, is you going on about nature. That easy.” And then, before he could stop himself, he spewed out, “And you don't have to do that.”

“What?”

“Getting me out of trouble,” he said, pursing his lips. “That's not your responsibility.”

“Right. Duh. Because after everything we've been through, I can't care about you,” she exclaimed, face twisting up in pure fury. She got in his space, shoving his shoulder, but when he didn't budge, it only seemed to anger her more.

JJ didn't know what was going on anymore. Why was she so mad? Even if she didn't want to admit it, he was telling the truth. Of course all the Pogues had each other's back, but Kiara doted over him more than was necessary. The constant checking of injuries, limiting his day drinking, all that. Like he was some child!

He leaned in and mumbled, “I can take care of myself.”

Kie smirked. “Then do your own laundry.”

It happened naturally. One second he stared at her furious eyes and thought about how much he loved arguing with her despite the bullshit, the next his fingers curled into her hair and pulled her in a fierce kiss.

At first, her hands laid frozen on his shoulders, surprised, but the moment he realised his impulsive decision was a mistake, they slid around his neck and kept him close.

JJ sighed in relief and deepened the kiss he'd been craving ever since they were fourteen and Kie went from gangly to statuesque. Her lips were warm and soft and her hands were soft and she hadn't let go and holy shit — he was kissing Kiara Carrera.

The kiss lessened when her mouth quirked into a smile, their grins pressing flush together, and JJ shivered from delight. Oh, man. He was gone.

“You drive me damn crazy, Kie,” he murmured, voice dropped to an undeniably soft tone.

She bit back her silly grin and whispered, “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried focusing up, but all he could do was stare at her face. A shy hand grabbed hers.

He had to get it out of the way now, or else he'd kick himself later. “I'm… really into you. I'm– oh, fuck, uh–”

“Maybe we can talk about it not on the side of the road?” she suggested, amused.

JJ grinned, elated (What was the word he saw on the flashcards? Exalted!), and kissed her again, because he could.

On the ride back to the Château, he confessed to seeing her in a different light for years, while she couldn't really pinpoint a time or moment, that it just happened. It didn't matter, though he was in utter disbelief that he and Kie were having this conversation. No jokes, no BS, all seriousness. Tomorrow, he'd wake up and it wouldn't be some sick dream. Kie liked him back.

JJ was sure he'd doubt himself or overthink it in the future, but today, he'd bask in the certainty and the major ego boost.

“Okay, but did you ever legit like Pope then?”

A sheepish smile crawled up her cheeks as her gaze averted to the window. “I thought I did. But we have, like, no chemistry, so…” She shook her head. “I was confused.”

“That's okay,” he uttered. He couldn't give her shit for it. Even if he did torture himself with their short-lived relationship, he understood.

How would he react though? John B and Sarah wouldn't care, or Cleo, but Pope? He didn't want one of his brothers hating him. Being iced out by the guy fucking sucked, as it meant he was truly hurt and therefore meant JJ truly fucked up. He couldn't handle disappointing him.

Kie read his mind. “He'll be fine with it.”

“I dunno, man…”

“He will,” she repeated. “We're Pogues. We've all narrowly survived death. And besides…” She turned back to him with a secretive grin. “I think he has a thing for Cleo.”

Whoa. He did not see that coming. His brows shot up to his hairline, mentally kicking himself for being so focused on Kie that he didn't even notice the shift of interest between Pope and Cleo. They made sense, too. Know-it-all's, but well-meaning, and only speaking when needed.

If the idea didn't relief him of worries, he'd be concerned as to why they were all seamlessly coupled up like in some 90s sitcom Big John had on VHS.

“What a player,” he joked.

“Tell me about it.”

They arrived at the house, the Twinkie and Sarah's bike sprawled on the overgrown front lawn. JJ frowned. He had hoped to have some alone time with Kie, not to jump her bones and fulfill a regular dream of his, but to talk. To figure it out. He wanted to do this right. Because after everything, they deserved to have good things, to start on a high note — he deserved it.

Kie noticed it, too. Puckering her lips on contemplation, her gaze trailed from him to the rest of the property, ending on the trusty ol' hammock. She jabbed her thumb at it.

“Let's sit there.”

Normally, they laid on opposite ends on the hammock, if they even shared one to begin with. But now, she pressed herself right beside him and he felt like heaven dropped down on them in the best way possible. He suddenly understood what John B was lamenting about — the company, intimacy, the ease. Nerves rippled through his body like a summer storm, but he figured that was what it cost to lose one's mind over a girl.

He didn't know what to say, so Kiara spoke instead.

“I don't want us, the way we are around each other, to change, you know?” she said. “Like, I don't want you to think you have to act like some mellow ass boyfriend all of a sudden.”

He smirked. “Who said anything about boyfriend?”

“Bye.”

“Hey, wait,” he grinned, latching onto her arm before she pushed herself out. “C'mon, Kie.”

Her nose scrunched up. “I don't do this usually, okay?”

“You think I do?” he asked. His hand softly slid down to wrap around hers, to which she hooked their fingers together. Okay. Wow. It felt so damn nice that it propelled him to say, “I wanna be your boyfriend, Kie.”

The girl smiled and then surprised him by leaning in herself, pressing a gentle kiss on his chapped lips. It was overwhelming having her instigate it, his gut twisting up in excitement like when he was about to backflip from a boat, or cliff dive, or something similar like that.

He let go of her hand to cup her cheeks, only to whisper, “That's a yes, yeah? Gotta get a yes.”

“Yes, JJ,” she uttered back. “Here's to not fucking this up.”

“Cheers, baby.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

#jiara #outer banks #obx #obx fanfiction #otp: cause i'll come #It's messy but in a cute way

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ddaengyoonmin · 3 years

Text

Pairing: Single dad / childhood best friend!Jungkook x Reader

Genre: !!ANGST!!, smut.

Word count: 7.1k

Warnings:(issa dark oneee) Mentions of abuse, abusive parent, underage drinking and drug use, Jungkook is an ass, lots of descriptions of smoke and cigarettes in an unhealthy way. Mentions of vomiting. Toxic behaviors in general; Rough play; handjob; edging; Sub!Jungkook; Dom!Reader; choking; biting; overstimulation; slight mentions of blood; just all around physical and emotional pain definitely not #goals.

a/n: definitely cried a bit writing this. This story ended up becoming super important to me and something I think I’ve been holding in for a while. A lot of this story is based on my own life and personal experiences, which is why the first part is a highschool backstory. Absolutely nothing sexual happens until they are both adults, the first part of the story was just a necessary cathartic therapy moment for me to get out :_)

(Also I tried to make this a gender neutral insert, but this is my first time doing that so kindly let me know if there's anything I can do to improve on that!)

Song inspiration: Kathleen- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Rango- Catfish and the Bottlemen; Anything-Catfish and the Bottlemen

--------

He was completely insane. It never made you like him any less though.

When you’d first heard Jungkook was back in town you had so many different emotions running through you, you thought you’d faint at the feeling.

------

When you were still in highschool, he had been your closest friend. You spent practically every day after school with Jungkook, smoking in your car, driving around through cemeteries laughing about something funny one of your teachers had said, or the security guard who’d tried to chase you down the halls for skipping 2nd hour earlier in the day. There never seemed to be a dull moment when he was around.

When you’d first met him, insane and reckless were never words that would’ve come into your mind.

He was a grade younger than you and had seemed to fly mostly under your radar through all your highschool years. It wasn’t until the second half of your Junior year that you'd even noticed he existed.

You’d shown up to the first day of track practice the way you always had, scanning over the new freshman on the team. You’d mistaken him for a freshman and greeted him as such. He nervously and shyly corrected you that he was actually a Sophomore just searching around for something new to try out.

About half way through the practice you noticed a group of your teammates had swarmed around Jungkook and he looked to be almost in tears as he cowered under their words and faces, looking up at them all.

He was a small child, not very muscular and extremely geeky looking. You found it endearing though, and found the classmates picking on him infuriating.

You stormed across the track over to where they stood demanding to know their problem, they all were also a grade younger than you and seemed to be intimidated by you. How could they not be with the star of the track team chewing them out like they were being condemned to hell.

After they left, two big saucer eyes stared up at you, tears still slightly pooled up in his lower lid, he wiped them off with the back of his hand.

“Thank you.” He sniffled. He explained that everyone in his grade always picked on him like that. He didn’t really have any friends, and everyone seemed to think of him as the weird kid.

After that day the two of you were inseparable.

You went to the city fair together on the last day of school that year, and that was the first time it happened.

You were supposed to be at a school sanctioned celebration, you’d told your mom that's where you’d be.

But here you were sitting in your car with Jungkook before going to the fair, the two of you giggling as he messily tried to roll a joint, swearing that his older brother had taught him how.

You felt yourself bleeding guilt for lying to your parents. But, how could anything that sweet Jungkook convinced you to do be bad?

Stoned out of your mind the two of you ran hand in hand around the fair, giggling and riding your favorite rides too many times. That was the first time you realized, he was truly your best friend.

That summer had you pulling a 180 on everything you’d ever thought you were capable of.

Before you knew it, you were sneaking out of your house multiple times a week to drive around with Jungkook and smoke, listening to music and feeling free.

———

It was now the middle of summer. You were sitting in your car while Jungkook was filling up gas for you.

Two girls and a man approached Jungkook and started chatting. You found that odd, but then again, Jungkook had a habit of getting into conversations with strangers everywhere you went.

You never really noticed it til then, but at some point, he had really changed from the boy you met. He was more outgoing, he was dressing better…

A tap on your window surprised you.

“Hey y/n! These guys are throwing a party at their place, let's just park your car here and go! They said just hop in!”

You felt your jaw drop a bit as you opened your mouth to protest. But he was staring back at you so excited, so hopeful that you’ll join him. You agreed, against all better judgement and that sick feeling in your stomach that you shouldn’t be getting into a car with strangers.

Jungkook whispered in your ear as the two of you walked to your car. “I told them we were 22” He chuckled. Your heart dropped a bit, more sick feelings coming on.

“Okay.” You managed to nod and agree somehow. Jungkook excitedly opened the door to their backseat, as if he did this kind of thing all the time.

You were both lucky, the strangers were not murderers, though there was no party, just them and some beer and a hookah in a messy apartment living room.

None of it felt right, it didn’t really feel like a fun time. Jungkook though seemed to think he was at the party of the century. He chugged the beer they gave him in no time and was up messing with their stereo trying to get on some “PARTY MUSIC” he screamed out.

In no time at all that firecracker of a boy was wasted and trying to dance up on their table.

It wasn’t long before the apartment owners realized their mistake, this child was completely off the rails drunk. One of them tried to bring him down from the table and he somehow managed to kick their glass hookah entirely across the room.

There was a still silence as you all looked at the shattered glass on the ground. You had your hand clasped over your mouth looking from the glass to Jungkook.

Jungkook’s eyes were wide at you, the smile that grew on his face seemed ill fitting for the moment, as the apartment owners were obviously furious.

“Run!” Jungkook screamed out in a laugh, rushing over to you and grabbing you tightly by your wrist and pulling you out the front door.

Then the two of you ran, you just kept running down the street till your lungs gave out and you collapsed on the ground on a grassy patch in front of a gas station.

Jungkook’s chest was heaving but he still managed a loud laugh, his eyes crinkling as he held his stomach, rolling over onto his side.

“Jungkook. That was insane…” You gasped out.

“That was fun.” he chuckled, seeming to be unphased by it all with a casual smile, rolling back onto his back and staring up at the sky.

And that was the moment you realized how crazy he was.

After that, things like this were common with Jungkook. You were his protector at school and his partner in mischief and crime.

The two of you ended up both quitting track together, against your parent’s scolding and the coaches yelling about losing one of their star runners.

You knew you wouldn’t be a star that year though, with all the smoking you’d been doing and you’d skipped out completely on practicing throughout the summer. It just seemed pointless. And you wanted more time with Jungkook before you had to leave…

———

You found yourself getting in increasingly more dangerous situations. He’d have you take him to parties at nearby university dorms, he refused to learn to drive, part of you felt like it was just because he liked you driving him around.

He always lied about his age, that never sat right with you.

Sometimes you found yourself gripping both hands on a beer bottle so tightly you thought your fingers might snap while he was getting talked to by every person that walked by. People loved him at first glance every time you went out together. But they didn’t know him.

They didn’t get to see his real chaos, they never learned the lies he told them, they’d never be able to understand him. Not like you thought you knew him.

You knew things weren’t good at home for Jungkook. He had an older brother he was close with named Jin, and a young sister named Jill, both very lovely, but his dad was a real piece of work. In the whole time you’d been friends with Jungkook you’d only been to his house twice, he avoided ever taking you there if he could.

You found out why when one of the times Jungkook had thought it’d be safe to bring you over for a moment, his dad got home from work early.

“What’s this shit.” His dad had grumbled at Jungkook, pointing to the light eyeliner he had around his eyes. Jungkook had recently started to wear makeup, he did a good job of making it look natural, but today he’d gone a little heavy on the eyeliner.

“Nothing.” Jungkook muttered, turning his back to his dad.

Apparently that was the wrong move, and all you could do was stand there, frozen.

Jungkook and you have never talked about that day. But it was traumatic for you both. You held him close that night as he cried in your arms, sitting in the parking lot of your favorite park to smoke in.

His eye now even more black than it had been with just the eyeliner, which was now smudged across his face due to his tears.

You vowed to never let anyone hurt him ever again. No matter what.

---------

Months later Jungkook was taking pictures of you, for your senior pictures. Talking about how you’d be gone next year but you’d still stay in touch. Graduation was hanging over you like a dark cloud. You didn’t want things to change between you and Jungkook.

As much trouble as you’d gotten in, as much as your grades had dropped this year, as much as your parents gave him judgemental looks any time he was around, you loved him so much.

---------

It was the last month of school.

He was gone.

Somehow his father had managed to get your phone number and you were hearing an entire vocabulary of cuss words.

“I know you’re hiding him from me. Where the fuck is he?’ the man growled on the other end of the phone.

You wish you knew.

But he just didn’t show up to school that day.

He didn’t text you like he always did to say that he was ready to be picked up.

No voicemail.

Not a word.

And now even his dad was calling you. The worry that you felt had you not paying attention to one word of your classes all day.

And the next day.

And the rest of the week.

Until next monday. He was just...there.

“What the fuck Jungkook!” You punched him in the shoulder. He looked like a mess, his hair hadn’t been cut or washed in a while, and he looked like he was wearing the remnants of makeup from a few days ago.

He chuckled “I decided to just hop a train out of town for a while” He shrugged “fuck it.”

“And you couldn’t tell your best friend where you went? Do you realize I thought you were dead?” You snapped at him.

He shrugged again. “It's fine. It was fun!” He smiled a giant toothy grin.

Your blood was boiling. How could he not even say sorry? How could he act like this didn’t affect you at all. It was infuriating.

You didn’t talk to him for a week.

------

You made up with Jungkook, but things never went back to normal. You were always waiting for him to just up and leave again. To just abandon you and act like nothing is even the matter…

You’d graduated and it was summer, you thought like last summer you’d be hanging out together most every day.

But, he stopped asking.

When you did hang out with him, he’d continuously mention this new group of friends he’d found in the town he ended up in on his little adventure. You’d think they were celebrities the way he gushed about them.

There was a girl of course, she was ‘the most beautiful mess he’d ever seen’. You found yourself holding back a sob at those words, because you knew exactly what he meant. Because it was the same as what you saw when you looked at him.

He was increasingly spending more time with his new friends than you, and school would be starting for you soon...maybe it was a good thing. He was still in highschool and you were becoming an adult, he needed friends in his grade.

That didn’t make it hurt less though.

Only about a month into summer, with a simple text Jungkook invited himself over, asking you to order some pizza and said he’d be staying the night.

In your new apartment you’d gotten to yourself after graduation, Jungkook now smoking with you on your couch, the two of you chuckling about the show you were watching. Nothing seemed wrong at that moment, it all seemed finally back to normal between you two.

And that was the last time you had seen Jungkook for 4 years.

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

You’d checked your phone what seemed like every minute for the first month he was gone.

Even texting his brother Jin many times and getting no reply.

You waited for him to come back with some wild and crazy story of new trouble he’d gotten himself into. You figured he had to come back, he still had school, and with Jin in college he’d never leave his little sister alone with that monster right?

But as months continued to pass, it was clear he wasn’t coming back. All of his social media platforms had been deleted or you’d been blocked.

There weren’t enough tears in your body for how hard you cried yourself to sleep each night when you realized he really was gone. You felt your body heaving against your mattress with each loud sob. Your head was beginning to throb from the tears and from the stress of knowing you really had lost him.

Not that he was ever yours.

That was something you should’ve realized sooner.

Jungkook would never belong to anyone or any place.

You chuckled at a memory of skipping class, sitting in your car in the school parking lot, his wild eyed smiling expression when he’d pass you back your cigarette completely smoked to the end.

“How!?” You’d smack his shoulder with a laugh. “It was only half smoked and I handed it to you for a hit!!! How is it gone!”

He’d wink, laugh and lean back in his seat. “Just trying to die quicker.”

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

You’d graduated from your university this year. Life had pretty much gone according to plan for you that way, you had to retake one class which really wasn’t bad considering how much you’d fallen off at the end of highschool.

You were finishing up your shift at the chain restaurant you’d been working at the past year. As you were clearing off dishes sighing over another table stiffing you on a tip, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Quickly you took the dishes into the kitchen to the dishwasher and went to the bathroom to check your phone.

It was a text from a former classmate you’d hung out with a few times. You and Jungkook would smoke with him occasionally, though Jungkook seemed closer to him than you. It didn’t surprise you, Jungkook made friends so easily when they weren’t in his own grade.

Jungkook…

What was surprising was that it’d actually been a bit since you’d thought about Jungkook in a way that made your heart ache this way. It’d been years, he was nothing more than a story you’d tell to new friends. That wild child that you hung around with in highschool, the one who got you into so much trouble. People’s eyes would widen at some of the stories you’d told (If only they knew the ones you didn’t dare repeat)

“You could’ve died!” They’d say.

Or “He seems like he was just a toxic friend.”

Some even would ask you if you think maybe he could’ve been a sociopath.

You'd laugh and say it was probably true. As much as you had hung out with Jungkook, you never quite felt like that love you held for him as your friend was ever returned.

The older you got and the more you looked back on it, Jungkook never did anything but use you.

You drove him everywhere, you bought him dinners, you bought the cigarettes and weed, you defended him from his classmates( even though you’d seen him stab a man with a pen at a party once, over simply interrupting him.)

And what did Jungkook give to you?

Chaos. Trouble. Pain. Hurt…

You closed your eyes and gulped. You want him out of your head. But when you open your eyes and stare back down to the text on your phone, that wish is impossible.

‘Jungkook is back’ It read.

A chill spread across your entire body and your phone clattered to the floor. You didn’t even think about the cracked screen you’d likely caused. Your mind was stuck on one word, one name.

Jungkook.

Jungkook…

You actually felt sick, luckily you were already in the bathroom, rushing into one of the stalls you emptied your stomach, tears forming in your eyes you collapsed with your back to the cold painted cement of the bathroom wall.

He's back.

What does that even mean?

While Jungkook had been a geeky little kid in his classmates eyes for most of his life, his reputation had started to get around. When he went missing he was the talk of the town. Everyone seemed to have their own theory.

“I heard he ran off with a meth dealer.” … “No, I heard he’s in florida fighting alligators.” …. “That's bullshit he's obviously finally gotten himself in juvi!” they’d all speculated.

The worst part of hearing all of that, was that you could only speculate too.

He’s back…

A second text came in. You gulped and looked down to see a link to an instagram page kookymonster69. Of course it was that, you chuckled.

You clicked the link and it sent you over to his page. There were only three pictures posted, he really had just come back...you’d thought maybe he’d just blocked you so somehow this was a relief.

The first photo was a selfie, and WOW. He did not look like the small lanky boy that you had been friends with.

He was wearing a loose fitting tank top that showed off his massive biceps and the tattoos that covered his arms and hands. His hair was still jet black but he seemed to have learned how to perfectly style it, and his eyeliner was more on point than it's ever been.

“Fuck.” You whispered under your breath. Your heart beat fast right before it sank at the second picture.

It was him with a child that looked to be around 3 years old, the caption reading ‘My lil mini me’.

Oh…

Your mind flashed back to the girl he’d always talked about, the time he’d been spending with his new friends instead of you.

Of course.

Of course that's where he went.

But why couldn’t he tell you? Why would he think you wouldn’t want to be involved in his kids life?

You cursed again under your breath and without thinking you pressed the follow button.

“I-” You gasped. You really hadn’t meant to do that. But, maybe it's good he knows that you know he's back…

--------

Two days later you got a notification. Kookymonster69 is following you on instagram.

Within minutes a dm was popping up on your screen.

“Long time no talk huh?” it read.

You wanted to throw your phone against the wall. Though that would be the second act of unwarranted phone violence because of this little shit. So you held back. Theres only so much in your life he’s allowed to fuck up.

How could he think that was what you wanted to hear after all this time. No different than when he’d hopped a train out of town and came back like nothing was out of the ordinary.

No apology. No “You must’ve been so worried”

You started to type out a message telling him off. Asking him what the fuck was wrong with him, just dissapearing and coming back into your life like this.

You maxed out the word count on your text and re read it back over. Sighing, you deleted every word and sent a simple.

“Yeah...it really has been a while. How are you?”

Damnit. You groaned and tossed yourself onto your side on your couch.

He replied almost instantly.

“Better lately...I have a son.”

“I saw, he looks a lot like you. I always knew if you had a kid they’d look just like you lol called it” you felt a smile grow on your face, despite every bone in your body reminding you of who he was, and what he’s done...here you were letting your cheeks catch fire once again at his words.

“He does. lol he’s so much smarter than me though already.”

“I don’t doubt that ;) “

It was about ten minutes and he hadn’t replied. You knew ten minutes wasn’t a long time, nothing compared to four years. Yet somehow those ten minutes were the longest moments you’d ever experienced.

“I wanna see you again.” the words read on your phone. You felt your stomach tie itself up into a tight knot.

Bad idea. Bad idea. You should have never even replied.

Why were you digging up the past?

You quickly turned your phone over and groaned.

Letting him back in would likely only bring you more pain. Why the hell were you actually considering it.

This time it was your turn to wait a while before replying. You were weighing pro’s and con’s lists in your brain and though the con’s list kept growing, the Pro list’s first and only item seemed to top it all. ‘Its Jungkook.’

---------

So here you were. Waiting in your car outside of the address he’d texted you to pick him up at. You were parked outside of a cheap looking apartment building only about five minutes from where you lived. You wondered how long he’d been here...this close to you without you knowing.

You sucked in a deep breath when you saw him walk out the front door. He was wearing an oversized grey baggy t-shirt and tight black skinny jeans ripped at the knee where you could see the start of a tattoo peeking out. He had on silver chains and his hands were covered in rings, he looked like some kind of goth model.

You rolled the window down and called over to him.

“Not sure if you remember my car.” You spoke lightheartedly trying to offset the nervous feeling, and another feeling you were still trying to sort out.

He belly laughed and smoothly opened your passenger door and hopped in.

“How could I forget!” his dark eyes were wide and excited as always, his charming smile you’d once been so used to now making your brain practically glitch out. “I can’t believe you still have it.”

You shyly shook your head. “Broke college student” You chuckled. “So what are we doing? You said you just wanted to chill…”

Jungkook smiled and relaxed back into your seat, like he’d done a million times, so naturally. Though he didn’t look like the same small boy you once knew.

“Yeah, like old times.” He winked and pulled out a small baggie of weed.

You rolled your eyes and smiled.

“C’mon don’t tell me you quit.” He teased.

“Of course I didn’t.” You chuckled.

“Good y/n.” He smiled cutely, booping your nose with one finger, and you felt your heart stop.

Your face must’ve fallen or had some sort of expression to let him know he’d affected you, because he immediately punched your shoulder as if to snap you out of your thought.

“Give me a cigarette then and let's go.” He demanded joyfully, banging on the dash of your car and giving you an “onward” motion with his arm for you to start driving.

You drove around for about an hour, smoking cigarettes and passing a joint back and forth.

He didn’t talk much about himself or what he’d been up to and he also didn’t ask much about you either. When you’d bring up questions you got short replies that didn’t seem very satisfying.

“So are you still with your kids mom?” You asked him as he was passing you an almost fully smoked joint.

“Hell no!” he coughed out smoke with his words. “Evil.” he muttered and shook his head.

“Evil?”

“Yup.” he nodded, grabbing another cigarette from your pack without asking. Just as he always used to. What's yours was always his back then, but right now his casual way of falling back into old routines was hurting, you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You pulled into the parking lot of you and Jungkook’s favorite park you’d hangout at. You pressed the brakes suddenly and aggressively bringing the car to a half.

“Woaah.” Jungkook giggled as he let out a tiny puff of smoke.

“You left.” You felt yourself about to explode. Trying to hold it in was becoming impossible.

“You just LEFT.” You yelled the last word, startling him and making him cower back against the window.

“Y/n…” His eyes widened as he gave you his best puppy dog face, this was the first time you’d probably ever really yelled at him. He’d been scolded plenty of times, but you were always soft on your Jungkook. He didn’t deserve that though, you might not have been dating, but he’d broken your heart and you deserved an explanation.

“Why didn’t you tell me? How could you just leave me without a word?” You felt tears forming in the corners of your eyes.

It was silent in your car for a while.

Jungkook brought the last hit of his cigarette to his mouth shakily.

“No.” He shook his head, doing something that always gave you the chills. The way he could turn his cutesy eyes into stone cold daggers in an instant used to make your heart drop into your stomach. Though right now you were a bit too worked up to feel anything but anger at him.

“No?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t need to tell you shit.” He shook his head, his eyes not meeting yours.

“Right.” You huffed, sinking into your seat. “Why would you. Why would you tell your best friend what's going on in your life right?” you snapped and realized the words building inside had reached your tongue faster than your brain could tell you to stop.

“Though I guess maybe we never really were best friends? Maybe I just thought that because you hung around me so much. But you never actually gave a shit about me did you?”

Jungkook’s eyes were widening and he was cowering further away from you.

“I would’ve done anything for you Jungkook, you know that? Died for you, killed for you. Do you realize how many times I took the fall and got in trouble for things you did? And you just…let me. You always just let me get hurt for you, let me ruin myself for you. And you never cared. And then you just...left.”

Your last words came out as a choked up whisper.

Jungkook was staring at the cigarette in his hand that had gone out, twirling it between his tattoo’d fingers and pursing his lips together tightly.

“Why’d you keep hanging around me then if you hated it so much.” He grumbled, seeming genuinely hurt by your words.

You sighed. Hating that now you felt the need to comfort *him*. You shook your head. No. He doesnt get to get away with that.

“I guess I don’t know.” You muttered glaring at him.

His eyes met yours for a moment but on seeing your anger they quickly flitted away.

“You seemed helpless.” You answered after a moment. “That's why. I thought you needed me. I thought I was helping you by being there for you. I didn’t realize you were destroying me.”

At that Jungkook’s gaze was serious and direct at you.

“Destroying you?”

“Nevermind. This was just a mistake.” You murmured starting to put your car into reverse to leave. A large tattoo’d hand pressed onto yours stopping you.

“Hey.” He spoke seriously.

You stopped and looked over at him, already visibly exhausted from this conversation.

“Just…” He grabbed another cigarette from your pack and lit it, sucking in a large hit. “I missed you, trust me.” he grumbled.

“Oh wow, well at least you missed me the four years you chose to not talk to me.” You hissed out slightly getting in his face, making him flinch back.

“I’m not gonna say sorry.” He whispered, his doe eyes staring at you intensely, his eyes flicking back and forth between your eyes and what seemed to be your lips.

Of course he’s not. Of course he does know that's what you want. You had an urge to grab his face in your hands and just shake some sense into him and scream ‘Why can’t you just have some normal human emotions you complete sociopath.’

Instead your body’s next choice of action was one that neither of you were expecting.

As if your lips were magnets, yours fell onto his quickly and perfectly, snapping the two of you in place together.

You pulled back with a gasp, holding your lower lip between your thumb and index finger, feeling mortified at yourself.

Jungkook on the other hand had a smirk slowly growing on his face, his eyes mischievous, likely knowing this was his “in” back to your good side.

The fact that you knew that's probably what he was thinking should’ve been enough to have you stop right there. But the way his eyes were now scanning you up and down in admiration was too intoxicating, too addicting, you’d missed him too much.

“Do your seats still fold all the way down.” He pointed to your backseat with a chuckle.

You smacked his shoulder. “And why would that matter to you.” You teased, almost completely forgetting how angry you’d just been with him. Damnit, how did he do that.

He shrugged with a knowing laugh, his eyes crinkling up cutely, bringing his still lit cigarette to his lips.

“You wanna get even?” He glanced at the back seat again.

“Get even?”

“Yeah.” He winked “You seem like you’ve got a lot of pent up steam at me there. I'm just suggesting some sanctioned punishment-” the corners of his lips curled up mischievously at the word. ”-so maybe you’ll feel a bit less upset at me.”

Bad idea. Bad idea. Those words were playing on a loop in your brain.

Trying to remind you of every bit of hurt and pain he’d caused you, and how if you slept with him, you knew that pain would only hurt worse the next time.

Jungkook was already getting out of the car and putting the seats of your station wagon down flat into a makeshift bed.

You had your fingers clenched tightly around your steering wheel, knuckles turning white. This is Jungkook, not just a one night stand, not a new fling. This is *Jungkook*. You knew there was a higher chance than not that you’d be filled with regret after this.

But there he was now laying out in the back seat of your car, staring at you with a cute and enticing look. “y/n.” He spoke sweetly. “You can come punish me now” He winked.

You couldn’t deny to yourself how much you wanted him.

You took one more deep breath in and without taking another thought to it you rushed into the back seat with him.

He was laying on his side with his head propped up on his hand.

“Took you long enough.” he teased.

Before he could say anything else you were on top of him, pushing him onto his back and pressing him to the seat with one hand and putting another one over his mouth.

“You’re definitely going to have to shut up.” You growled.

His eyes lit up at the fire you’d shown him. He’d never seen you like this before, his sweet y/n that always looked after him, looked out for him, picked him up every time he needed it.

He knew he fucked up. But life itself was fucked up, nothing in life is fair and no one gets what they truly deserve. Jungkook especially. So why would he owe anyone an apology?

This was the best he could give to you.

He nodded, agreeing to be quiet for you.

You slowly let your hand fall from his mouth and replaced it with your lips, melting into him, you were kissing him like you’d been starved for it. Your fingers started to tangle in his hair, messing it up and tugging slightly.

Jungkook's hand reached around your waist, pulling you against him, moving down to your hips and trying to get you to grind against him.

You quickly reached down and grabbed his wrist, pinning it above his head and shaking your head slightly as you gave him a few more pecks.

“Don’t get greedy. You can’t be patient after all this time?” You scolded.

He stuck out his lower lip in a pout, taking in the sight of you straddling him, looking down at him with a mix of emotions still flowing through you.

You went back to kissing him, pinning his other hand above his head and after a bit, rewarding him by pressing your core down onto his and giving him the friction he’d wanted.

He let out a soft and needy whimper as you did.

You felt butterflies filling your stomach at his noise. It was so gentle and sweet, and to know that you were the one making Jungkook feel this way was a sense of pride you’d never felt before.

You stacked his wrists one on top of the other and held them in one hand, your other hand now slipping between where your bodies met and palming him over his jeans.

He hissed out a sharp breath and a small “fuck” fell from his lips involuntarily.

“Does that feel good baby?” You teased him pulling back from your kisses and studying his face, knowing the answer was obvious.

He bit down on his lower lip and his eyes were clenched tightly as he nodded.

Your fingers fumbled slightly but didn’t take you too long to undo his jeans and slip your hand inside, now running your hand slowly along his length over his boxers. His hips lifted slightly off of the seat, pressing up against your hand desperately wanting more.

At that you gave him a slight squeeze, causing him to yelp out. His eyes were wide staring up at you.

“I said don’t get greedy. Remember, this is supposed to be for me.” You chuckled at his disappointed face. “You’ve always been so fucking selfish and greedy.” You gently kissed his lips, before roughly taking his lower one between your teeth and biting harshly.

“Fuck.” he hissed, a small drop of blood now forming where you’d nipped at him, but he only seemed more hungry for you now.

You tugged on the hem of his pants and boxers. “Off now.” You demanded.

He wasted no time after you released his wrists, he tugged down his clothes, pulling up his shirt slightly and letting his length fall against his toned lower abs.

He was so beautiful, smiling up at you with a playful look. It was an absolute joke for you to think you were actually in charge here. You were wrapped around his finger and you always had been.

He looked absolutely mouthwatering. But you didn’t want to let it get to his head. This was supposed to be payback.

You went back to kissing him, that way you didn’t have to look at him, that way you didn’t risk saying the words that you shouldn’t...

With a free hand you took his length into your hand, letting the weight of him sit in your palm for a moment before slowly tickling your fingers up and down. He twitched under your touch and his kisses faltered as he let out a small gasp.

“y/n no more teasing.” He moaned out.

“I thought I said shut up.” Your hand was back over his mouth, but you decided to indulge him for a moment, pumping your hand up and down his length a few times. You could feel his moans vibrate against the palm of your hand still clamped down on his lips.

You let him go and slowly moved yourself down so that his cock was positioned right in front of your face. Letting your tongue lay flat against the base with pressure you licked a long stripe up his cock. When you got to the tip you flicked your tongue a few times right under his head. His hips reflexively moved up at that, begging you to take him fully in your mouth.

Instead you “tsk’d” at him a few times, loosely holding his cock in your hand and not moving.

“It's no fun just sitting there waiting is it?” You asked. “How do you think I felt waiting for you for years.” You lightly slapped the tip of his cock with your hand not holding it.

“AH!” He yelled out “Hey!” he strained his neck to be able to give you a shocked expression.

“Too far?” You cocked an eyebrow at him.

He thought for a moment, then shook his head, laying back down. “No. No it's not that I don’t like it.” He chuckled. “Just...it's you. I never thought you’d be like this in bed.”

You were suddenly moving up to face him, your hand grabbing the sides of his neck tightly. “You don’t know me anymore.” You growled. “You made sure of that by cutting me out of your life for four fucking years.” your grip on his neck tightened slightly before you released him.

He gasped in a deep breath when you pulled away, looking up at you in awe.

You moved your hand back between his legs now pumping quickly, twisting over his head when you’d get to it. You ate up every moan that you pulled from his lips, they were yours, you’d caused every single one and they were yours to keep forever.

Right before it looked like he was going to cum, you pulled your hand away, leaving his cock untouched and throbbing.

“No..” He whimpered, “Please please.” His needy whines were so cute.

“But why should you get to cum?” You teased him.

He pouted dramatically. “Y/n…” He spoke sweetly “Cuz you love me. Make me cum because you love me.” He smiled a wide and precious smile.

Fuck.

Your mouth hung open at his words. Of course he knew you loved him.

All the easier to use you.

Because that made it all the harder for you to say no to him.

Letting your forehead rest against his, you brought your hand back to his length, letting your fingers drag against his soft skin as you gripped him.

You could see a small smirk on his face, as his breathing became even more unsteady, his moans catching in his throat as he panted heavily.

“Oh my god that feels so fucking good.” He groaned out. “Fuck.” His hands were gripping the back of the front seat that his head was pressed up against, his muscles flexing as he tightened his grip unable to contain how good you were making him feel.

His abs were clenched and his hips were lifting off of the seat for you as he desperately fucked himself into your hand.

“I-I’m cumming.” He gasped out, his eyes met yours as he came, his mouth falling completely open and noises resembling your name were being muttered as his hips jerked and his cock twitched in your hand, spurting ropes of cum onto his stomach.

You didn’t stop moving your hand around him, waiting for him to get so sensitive that he had to pull your arm away, both of you laughing.

You rolled over next to him, turning your head to face his.

He was facing the top of the car, eyes closed and he had a big smile on his face, seeming very satisfied with himself.

“Even?” He finally opened his eyes, turning to you with a bright grin.

You chuckled.

It probably would be asking too much to expect Jungkook to see the flaw in his logic here. Once again, he’d gotten you to give him everything, for nothing in return, and he wanted to call that his apology.

You shook your head at him.

“No. But I do feel a little better.”

He nodded, seeming to somehow take that as a positive.

“You’re good at that.” He sat up, taking his shirt off and using it to wipe off his stomach.

“Thanks…” You muttered. Here it was, the regret setting in. The feelings of ‘what the fuck did I just do’. Even worse was the feeling of knowing now that you had, all he had to do was say the word, and you’d be right back there again.

You exited the backseat of the car quickly, rushing to grab a cigarette from your glove compartment, your fingers shaky as you brought the lighter up to the tip. Flicking it many times but not getting a flame.

“Fuck!” You yelled, chucking the lighter as far as you could, managing to make it over a fence and into the park.

Jungkook had just gotten out of the back seat in time to witness your little display. He didn’t say anything, simply grabbing another lighter from the front seat along with a cigarette for himself and walking it over to you.

You let him light your cigarette and the two of you stood for a minute in silence.

“Does this mean you’re actually back…” You whispered softly, almost not wanting to even ask, not wanting to know if it wasn’t the answer you were hoping to hear.

Maybe Jungkook knew that. Maybe that’s why he didn’t say anything at all.

He never told you he loved you, he didn’t even try and make you feel loved.

Maybe it was good that way, it might make it a bit easier when he leaves again.

Maybe it was better that way, it was kinder than being lied to.

#Jungkook smut #Jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfic #Jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x gender neutral reader #bts x you #jungkook reader insert #jungkook angst #bts angst #bts imagines #bts x gender neutral reader

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ricksroaches · 3 years

Text

Jungkook - Dysphoria ch. 1

pairing: Yoongi x Reader, OT7 x Reader (platonic)

summary: Jungkook, a burnt out gifted student, comes home from summer camp not ready to start his sophomore year of highschool, but his friends are there to help him feel better. Although not in the best of ways.

notes: This is a Euphoria-ish au but mostly it's just heavily inspired by the show (I use a few quotes), and each chapter is based on a character. There's a few parts where I cue a song title that's because I made a soundtrack to listen to while reading but I deleted it a while ago so :( if you feel like it listen to the ones I did write down. I'm apologizing now bc my writing can be a bit choppy/rushed its just cuz i have a more drabble-like style and don't know how to write between big scenes. THIS IS A DARK FIC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Hope you enjoy and sorry for this big ass paragraph.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: ass-load of angst, mental illness (depression, anxiety, bipolar, OCD, and probably more), drugs (all of them. just all of them), underage drinking, cursing, mentions of self-harm

Next chapter

[Slideshow - Labrinth]

When Jungkook was 5, he wanted to be an astronaut. He wanted to fly into the sky and zip around space exploring things never before seen. His little mind was so strong, wanting to learn anything and everything. When he first learned how to read, he would read every sign he passed in the car and play games with the letters he’d find. It wasn’t long before he was placed in advanced classes with kids he'd never seen before and for the first time in his academic career, he was challenged.

When Jungkook was 10, he wanted to be a doctor. He wanted to wear a white coat and glasses and race around a hospital busy saving lives everyday. He wanted people to look to him for advice and treat him with respect. He wanted to feel needed.

When Jungkook was 14, he wanted to be a paramedic. He didn’t think he’d be smart enough to become a doctor so an EMT would have to do. His classes had begun to pile up in work to the point where he didn’t have the time to think about anything but school. He ate, slept, and breathed homework, projects, and term papers.

When Jungkook was 16, all he wanted to do was graduate. He no longer had any desire to pursue his childhood dreams. When he was asked what he wanted to do when he was older, his mind was a void. He couldn’t see any future for himself past high school. He went day to day not bothering to care about what might happen the next day. He coasted through all of his classes and dropped out of the advanced programs that his parents put him in.

His potential was like a flame. It was small at first, but still had loads of potential, so more kindling was thrown on top. The flame received it well, quickly spreading over the new material. But they kept stacking kindling. Stacking and stacking and stacking putting more and more pressure until finally….the flame died. All because he liked to read.

[Forever - Labrinth]

The clouds inched across the sky and rows of crops and fencing whipped by the car window. A stark contrast between the two. Jungkook rested his head against the glass and watched as the car began to pass more and more houses. The familiar area told him he was almost home. He should’ve been glad, elated even. He would finally get to see his friends again, but after three weeks of summer school to catch up on the class he skipped last year he’d lost the ability to smile or show any form of positivity. To say he felt like a zombie would be an insulting understatement.

The car pulled into the ever so familiar driveway and the rest of his family piled out of the car. He didn’t move. He heaved a long, anguished sigh before snatching his duffel bag from the other seat and throwing open the door.

He was out the front door again before his mom could even ask him where he was going. Speeding his bike down the empty road that he’d ridden countless times before. He could make this route with his eyes closed. The house in question came into view and Jungkook pedaled harder to close the distance. He swung one leg to the opposite pedal and straddled it until he swerved to a stop in the driveway. The house was old, hadn’t been lived in for years, wasn’t on the market, yet wasn’t scheduled to be torn down. It was the perfect place for a group of teenagers to tear apart and put back together. Without knocking, he stepped inside and was hit with the welcoming scent of booze, pizza, and weed with notes of cigarettes and coffee. Music blasting from a distant room in the house led him to the living room where he counted one, two, three, four, five people sprawled about the room. Upon noticing him standing in the doorway, they jumped up and raced to pull him into the room.

“Kook! How you been man? How’d surviving summer school go?” Taehyung was Jungkook’s best friend and unsolicited wingman. He was always trying to set him up with girls so he could get his v card punched. Taehyung was ever the ladies man. Never had trouble finding a date or a hookup. No one could blame him though. If they had that flawless, arrogant face they’d use it too. Despite his fuckboy nature, he was the best friend Jungkook ever had. They’d gone to the same school since they were 7 and Taehyung’s untamable charisma sniffed out Jungkook’s shyness rather quickly. They were inseparable and the rest is history.

“Fine I guess.”

“Kookie, come sit down! I’ve been saving your spot on the couch for you!” Jimin pulled Jungkook to the left corner of the C shaped couch. Jimin was like Taehyung in the sense that he also had no issues with finding partners. He wasn’t near as promiscuous as Taehyung, but he made up for it with his bisexuality. He had an entire other gender to choose from. Jimin was probably the nicest of the group. He always gave the best hugs and was their personal therapist. His aura seemed to coax you into opening up to him even if you hadn’t originally planned on it. He had a way of saying all the right words to make you feel better, even if it was just for a moment. On the other side of him, he was the biggest party animal the group had ever seen. Anywhere else, he was the purest angel that everyone believed could do no wrong. But at a party? Park Jimin was a demon. Seductively dancing in a stylish jacket, pants low enough to show his v-line, sweaty hair flipped back pounding shot after shot until he was the last man standing. That guy could party from sun down to sun up like it was a baby shower.

“Did you at least learn anything you missed last year?” Namjoon. Ever the parent. He was surprisingly humble given his father’s status and money. He easily had the best grades among the friends. School always came easy to him, no matter what it was. However, if you saw him outside of school, you’d never be able to guess he was one of the school’s top students. He carried an energy with him that dared anyone to mess with him or his friends. Although you didn’t see it often, he could make himself scary if he wanted to. All in all, he’s just a gentle giant that made sure everyone turned in their work.

“Absolutely nothing. I don’t know why they keep wasting their time on me.” Jungkook sighed. Hoseok threw a pillow from across the couch, smacking him in the face.

“Yah! Don’t talk about yourself like that!” Hoseok was the human charger. It didn’t matter if someone’s mama died if Hoseok was in the room there would be shenanigans. He was always the one to make some crazy dare that would end up getting them in trouble but they wouldn’t be mad because it was totally worth it. He also had great music taste and almost always was on aux. Hoseok’s vice was coke. Often the driving force behind his hyper nature, it started out as just a thing he did at parties, but slowly creeped into his everyday habits. It hadn’t become a problem yet, he vowed that as soon as he started getting nosebleeds he’d stop, although Jungkook was wary of how difficult that was going to be.

“Where’s Y/N and Yoongi?” Jungkook asked after noticing their usual spots empty.

“They left to get food. They should be coming back soon.” Jin assured him, giving him a comical slap on the thigh. Jin was the eldest, but rarely acted like it. Whenever he wasn’t making stupid dad jokes or eating he spent his time at the classical theater where he worked and sometimes acted. He planned on pursuing acting given his “world wide handsome face.” “It just has to be seen! People around the world need to swoon at my beauty” as he would put it.

No one heard the front door open and shut or noticed Y/N and Yoongi standing in the doorway of the living room.

“Food’s here.” Yoongi finally croaked. Hoseok and Jin yelped and sprung up.

“JESUS! Ever heard of announcing yourselves?! I swear you guys are the exact same person!” Y/N just gave a shrug and plopped onto the large bean bag that she’d claimed.

“Hey, Kooker.” She dragged out.

“Hi Y/N..” His unusual bland reply didn’t go unnoticed by her, but she brushed it off.

“You ready to get shit faced?” A playful grin plastered her otherwise tranquil face. A small smile poked at Jungkooks pursed lips. There was something about her character that always put him in a better mood. She was the one who invited him and Tae into the friend group in the first place, and because of that, he couldn’t be more grateful.

Yoongi tossed him a beer can and his car keys. “Start us off Jungkook.” Yoongi was by far the most terrifying one. It took some time to get to know his true person but there were still times when he still scared the shit out of him. Jungkook remembered when he first met Yoongi. He looked like he’d served time with the seasoned look in his eye that said he’d seen some shit in his day. He hadn’t spoken the entire time the group was talking and Jungkook was beginning to worry that he didn’t like him. It wasn’t til he finally spoke that Jungkook could release the breath he was holding. For someone so stoic and cold looking, he never expected him to have such a low, soft voice. He realized, Yoongi wasn’t scary, he was just quiet like him.

Jungkook took the keys and poked a hole in the bottom of the can. He pressed his lips to it and pulled the tab, sending the amber liquor shooting down his throat. He finished it with ease and crushed the can in his palm while the room cheered and chanted.

The loud music, laughing, and drugs drowned out everything in the outside world. It felt like the world ended and they were the last people left on Earth. Nothing mattered but what was right in front of them. The hours flew by until it came time for everyone to crash. Most of them were still raging drunk or high which only made them fall asleep faster. Jungkook didn’t drink much and he barely smoked. He just couldn’t get in the right headspace to enjoy any of it. So there he was, laying awake among a pile of snoring boys at some ungodly hour of the night. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out to read the text in his notifications.

[We All Knew - Labrinth]

Y/N💜: come to my office

He shimmied out from under Taehyung and Jimin and tiptoed out of the room. He followed the smell of weed through the house because where there was weed, there was Y/N. He stepped into the backyard and found her leaning against the wall, blunt between her fingers. The tip of the dark stick swelled into a bright orange when she took a drag. Smoke rolling out of her nose, she held it out for him. He hesitated.

“You're upset. Take it.” Which was a dead-on observation for Y/N, who’s not normally revolving in the same direction as planet Earth. He hesitantly took a puff from it before handing it back. She spread her arms lazily and looked at him with a beckoning stare. He sighed and walked right into her arms that wrapped around his back. She was only older than him by a year, but her old soul and almost motherly demeanor made him look up to her like she was his idol. Sometimes, he forgot he was a whole head taller than her. “Welcome home, Kookie.”

Hers was the only welcome he got that day that brought a genuine smile to his face. She had a way of making him feel welcome and wanted even if she was in a bad mood. She broke the embrace and without a word headed to the old couch by the empty swimming pool. He eventually followed her and flopped down next to her. Another gush of smoke entered the chilly air and it was handed back to him. Feeling better, he took a healthy drag and sighed out the smoke as he sunk further into the couch.

“Was it that obvious?”

“Was what obvious?”

“Me being upset.”

“Not really.” She flicked the ash off the tip of the brown stick, her gaze not breaking from its spacey stare.

“Then how’d you know?”

“Pain recognizes pain.” Y/N wasn’t one for her genius epiphanies, given that nine times out of ten on any given day she was stoned out of her mind. She wasn’t dumb, god no. He wouldn’t doubt that she was smarter than him, but she rarely exercised her ability. As great of a gift that her mind was, it was an even worse curse. An inescapable tomb of her worst fears, thoughts, and intentions, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide. So naturally, she tried anything and everything to silence her mind; alcohol, weed, acid, coke, molly, you name it, she’s done it.

Jungkook wasn’t angry or disappointed by the lengths she went. He knew she was just trying to feel better, and to him, that’s all that mattered. He’d take high Y/N over no Y/N at all.

“Y/N?”

“Yep.” There was a silence while he worked up the nerve to speak.

“How…uh….how long have you felt…the way you feel?” She chuckled and let her head fall back against the couch.

“Well I smoked a blunt with Yoongi in the car this morning and then-”

“No, I mean like…w-without drugs.” Her lazy smile didn’t change, but her eyes unfocused and she grew quiet as if lost in a flashback.

“How long do you think I’ve felt this way?” He didn’t anticipate this question.

“Uh…I don’t know…you hide it really well.”

“I couldn’t tell you when it started. I don’t remember much before 7. I’m told I was a happy kid, but it didn’t feel like it at all. All my life I’ve looked around and seen that everyone was so much happier than me, and I’d ask myself, ‘Why can’t I feel like that?’ It wasn’t until I was older that I learned…I was born to suffer. That’s just my place in the world.”

“When did you finally tell anyone?”

“I didn’t. My parents found my razors.” Jungkook always thought he saw scars on her arms and legs, but her milky skin made it hard to tell. It hurt his heart to know that it was true, and that every one of those once caused her pain. The image of her forearms and thighs slick with her blood brewed tears in his eyes.

“They determined they didn’t have the knowledge to help me, so they asked me to take a tour of this mental hospital and think about their suggestion….” She paused to keep her voice from cracking. “I didn’t make it home that day. Never really forgave them after that.”

There was a long silence after that. Jungkook didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say. Besides, he knew she hated condolences. “What made you start using drugs?” She took a drag of the blunt and thought about it.

“I was 13.” Really? “I found my brothers stash of weed in one of his shoes. I already knew what weed was and what it was used for, so I took about a gram and a rolling paper and taught myself how to roll a joint on my bathroom floor. I was shaking like a dog shitting peach seeds but when that joint hit, I thought…” She tilted her head to peak at him with an epiphanic smile, “This is it…This is the feeling that I’ve been waiting to feel my entire life. I thought I was sure to get caught and sent to juvie, but I wasn’t. The world went on, and I found a way to live. Now could my lifestyle kill me? Will it kill me? Yeah probably I don’t know, but at least I could’ve had a few years where I wasn’t begging the universe to put me out of my misery.” She paused to take another hit. “People often ask me, ‘Y/N why don’t you try therapy? Drugs aren’t the answer.’ Yeah well, drugs work. Therapy’s a guessing game; you never know if it’s gonna actually help or not and end up wasting your time and money. But when I take that hit, that line, that tab, the world starts to slow…and everything goes quiet…and I feel safe. In my own head. And I can see the world in color again.”

Jungkook watched her blissful face while she was lost in thought. She must’ve been pretty high because this is the most personal she’d ever gotten with him or possibly anyone that wasn’t Yoongi. “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“W-what if I don’t feel what everyone else feels either..?” He pinched the skin between his fingers to keep his tears at bay, a nervous habit he’d picked up from her. She reached over and took his hand in hers, the webbing between her fingers had white and pink stripes from years of fingernails digging into the flesh.

“Jungkook,” she didn’t use his nickname, “I know how hard it was for you to say that. I want you to know how much I appreciate you telling me, because if anyone knows how you feel, it’s me. You can talk to me whenever, wherever. Even when you think it’s a bad time it’s not, because nothing in that moment is more important to me than you. I don’t want you to go through the same thing I did, so please, even if you don’t want to talk, maybe I can at least keep you company.”

For the rest of the night, Jungkook told her everything. About the pressure, the stress, the desire to collapse and let the world go on without him, his inability to see a future where he was fulfilled. The words often caught in his throat, having never said them out loud before. Y/N didn’t say much, she just wrapped them in a blanket and stroked his hair while she just let him talk. Sometimes, he’d have to stop to cry and she’d hold him a little tighter, wipe his tears away with her thumbs, and wait til he was ready again.

Eventually, he had nothing else to say, his tears dried, and his body stilled.

Babies didn’t sleep that good.

Y/N nodded off a little later but was woken up by a raccoon tipping a trash can. She rested her cheek on his head and tried to go back to sleep, but it never came. She just continued to rest her eyes while playing with Jungkook’s hair and tracing lines along his features.

She didn’t know how long she laid there but soon the birds began their routine morning songs and she was sure she wouldn’t get back to sleep now. The faint tap of shoes on the concrete perked her ears, but she kept her eyes closed. The footsteps stopped behind the couch where she sat. It was quiet before the person chuckled quietly. A warm hand smoothed back the hair in her face and a little kiss was planted on her forehead. She couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face.

“Yoongi, I’m awake you creep.” She cracked her eyes open to see her boyfriend laid over the back of the couch hovering above her, his dark hair tickling her nose. He smirked.

“Well in that case,” he grabbed her chin and tilted her head up before capturing her lips in a playful kiss. When they parted, he glanced down at Jungkooks still sleeping figure. “You guys stay out here all night?”

“Yeah,” she looked down at him and smoothed his hair back, “he just had a few things to get off his chest.” Yoongi almost asked what it was about but her face gave him an idea.

“It’s cold, you want me to take him inside?”

“It won’t wake him up will it?”

“If he’s as out as as he looks, he won’t.” She nodded and Yoongi circled around and slipped his hands under the sleeping boy’s body. Much to Y/N’s pleasant surprise, he lifted him bridal style with ease and she followed him into the house where he placed him next to the other slumbering boys.

When he straightened back up he saw her in the sliding glass door, gazing at the now dusty blue sky. She could feel his body heat on her back against the nippy outside air.

“I always loved the time just before dawn.”

“Why is that?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his cheek to hers.

“It’s so calm and peaceful. And incredibly quiet besides the birds. It’s the only time I feel truly left alone.”

“You want me to show you my favorite time of day?” She turned to him with a curious look. “Follow me.” Not long after, the two were perched on the flat portion of the roof with Yoongi’s bong sitting between them. His angular fingers effortlessly packed the bowl and held it out to her. “All yours.” She took it with a smile.

“What a gentleman~”

Soon, the sky went from a pale blue to pastel shades of orange and pink. He looked over to see her fiddling with a thread on his hoodie she was wearing. “This,” he took her jaw and guided her eyes up for her to see the sunrise, “is my favorite time of day.”

“Why?”

“It gives me hope. Kinda like you.” He was glad she didn’t say anything. She was lost in the color palette of the scene before her, the weed making everything so much more vibrant and striking. He could see the sky reflected in her eyes, making the view ten times better. More time went by and she rested her head on his broad shoulder while they watched the rest of the sunrise.

Back on the ground, Yoongi cleared the bowl and poured out the bong water before setting it on a table by the couch. Y/N was on her back in the center of the empty pool, slowly tearing a leaf above her face and analyzing how it separated cell by cell. He stood on the edge above and watched her do this another four times much to his amusement. “You wanna get breakfast?”

She was out of the pool and in his face before he could finish his sentence. “Like you have to ask.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes before turning and walking to his car. “Hey, Yoongi.”

He turned back.

“Carry me to the car like Jungkook.” He broke into a smirk and walked back to her.

“Yes ma’am.” She let out a yelp when he scooped her off her feet and marched the two of them to his car waiting on the street.

Cover photo: @BIGHITTED on Twitter

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #fanfic #yoongi #yoongi x reader #ot7 x reader #bts fic #yoongi fic #bts angst

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h2bakugou · 4 years

Note

Heh bitchhhhh 🥴🥴🥴, can i request a bakugo x reader. The reader has a showstopper quirk were they can make people break out into song and dance and when kidnapped by the league they force them to preform “ive got a dream” from tangled. P.s play bloxburg with me 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

a/n: heyyyy bitchhhh, lmfao yes, thank you for drafting this idea to me in my bedroom, and we can play bloxburg soon. i had so much fun writing this omg,

the song is from tangled so credit to tangled for most of the dialogue/song!

summary: upon running into the league of villains, you and bakugou decide it’s best to just try and get away instead of staying and fighting, but your quirk is going to affect all in the area.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / showstopper - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, this is a certified crackfic brought to you by my sister’s amazing brain.

wordcount: 1.7k

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s a pretty average day, nothing crazy happening. for a grade in class, you’ve been assigned to patrol near campus.

And you were paired with none other than your crush, Bakugou.

The tension between the two of you was palpable, but it was a battle between knowing if Bakugou was aware of your quirk or not. You were worried.

As the tension settled, thickening with every passing second, every breath feeling harder to push out than the last, Bakugou was tired of the silence.

“Oi! Say something.” Bakugou’s harsh voice cut through the silence like a knife. It was unexpected, and it startled you. You looked over at him and cracked a smile.

“Sorry! I’m just thinking, what exactly are we looking for on this patrol?” You ask, deciding it was best to not worry if he knew about your quirk or not, he was in your class, surely he had to know.

“It’s a patrol. We’re not looking for something specific dumbass. We’re looking for anything out of the ordinary.” Bakugou’s words weren’t meant to hurt you, in fact, Bakugou began to think about if what he had said had been to harsh.

He’d been suffocating the feelings of a crush toward you for a while, and this patrol with one another didn’t help. Kirishima nor Kaminari were here to keep him grounded, he was going to be a mess.

A few screams caught your attention. Darting over to the noise, a lady was running away from an alley. Glancing at Bakugou, the two of you rushed in, not expecting what you saw.

The light from an open door illuminated a portion of the alley at the end, the rest shadowed in darkness from the buildings looming above.

Stepping into the lit room, the door was harshly shut and locked behind you, your eyes focusing on none other than the League of Villains.

“Shit.” You cursed, staring at the group of rag-tag villains with dangerous abilities.

“Well isn’t this ironic.” Tomura Shigaraki trotted over, standing oddly, almost hunched over as he scratched at the side of his neck.

“That can’t be healthy.” You whispered, cringing at the unnerving sound of his fingernails scratching against his raw skin.

“Die!-”

“Bakugou wait!” You pulled him back from lunging at the group, taking a step back away from them.

“We gotta stop them! What are you doing?” Bakugou yelled, glaring at you.

“Do you really think we can stop all of them at once? That’s suicide! Think dumbass!” You hit the top of his head lightly with a fist and groaned.

“That’s my line!” Bakugou grunted, looking back at the league. Shigaraki stood up straight and sighed, flexing his hand.

“What ideas do you have?” Bakugou hated asking the question, but he couldn’t use his. He’d cause to much damage, and structural damage to the bottom floor would cause the building to collapse.

“I have one but-”

“Then use it!”

“I can’t! My quirk it’ll-” You knew this was going to happen.

“I’m getting tired of your bickering. Dabi-”

“Use your quirk and stop wasting time!” Bakugou shakes you, gripping your shoulders harshly. It hurt but you activated your quirk and all the lights went out.

A single light shone down and Shigaraki stepped forward. He wasn’t moving on his own accord, and everyone was just watching as you raised your hands, seemingly controlling him like a puppet.

As music began to play, Shigaraki began to sing.

“I’m malicious, mean, and scary. My sneer could curdle dairy. And violence wise, my hands are not the cleanest.” Shigaraki’s eyes were wide, still conscious of everything that was happening, he was unhappy with the events unfolding.

The rest of the league sat immobile as they watched the scene unfold, Dabi trying to hold back a laugh, Kurogiri being ultimately curious, and Toga happy as can be.

“But despite my evil look, and my temper, and my hook, I’ve always yearned to be a concert pianist.” Shigaraki was moved over to where a piano sat, coincidentally still in pretty okay shape. Guess hiding out in yet another bar had its perks.

“Can’tcha see me on the stage performin’ Mozart? Tickilin’ the ivories ‘til they gleam. Yep, I’d rather be called deadly, for my killer show-tune medley, thank you! ‘Cause way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!” Shigaraki’s fingers danced across the keys, always having one on each hand raised as to not decay the entire piano.

It was you controlling him playing, not him at all. Shigaraki had never touched a piano in his life, yet it was very interesting to seemingly be able to play it perfectly.

“He’s got a dream! He’s got a dream!” The rest of the league joined in, singing along with him.

“See I ain’t as cruel and vicious as I seem! Though I do like breaking femurs, you can count me with the dreamers Like everybody else, I’ve got a dream!” Shigaraki ended his verse off with a groovy riff on the keys, the spotlight jumping over to Dabi.

“I’ve got scars, and lumps, and bruises. Plus something here that oozes. And let’s not even mention my complexion.” Dabi stepped forward, his hands pointing out parts on his body.

“But despite my extra toes, and my goiter, and my nose, I really wanna make a love connection.” Dabi’s eyes widened as he sang the words, your fingers wiggling around, controlling his movements.

“Can’t you see me with a special little lady, rowin’ in a rowboat down the stream?” Dabi sat on a stool and mimicked rowing in a boat, continuing his verse.

“Though I’m one disgusting blighter, I’m a lover, not a fighter! ‘Cause way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!” Dabi jumped up form his stool and stood in the middle of the room.

“He’s got a dream!” The league sang.

"I’ve got a dream!” Dabi continued.

“He’s got a dream!”

“And I know one day romance will reign supreme! Though my face leaves people screaming, there’s a child behind it, dreaming. Like everybody else, I’ve got a dream!” Dabi danced his way over to Shigaraki.

“Magne would like to quit and be a florist!”

“Kurogiri does interior design.”

“Twice is into mime, Toga’s cupcakes are sublime!”

“Mr. Compress knits.”

“Giran sews.”

“Muscular does little puppet shows!”

“And Spinner collects ceramic unicorns~!”

"What about you?” Shigaraki steps toward Bakugou who’s eyes widen in surprise as they quickly dart to you and then back to Shigaraki.

You were controlling everyone, the only downside to your quirk, is everyone in the area is affected. You control those in the room, even Bakugou. You just hoped he wasn’t going to hate you after this.

“I’m sorry me?” Bakugou asks, staring at Shigaraki. Dabi steps forward too.

“What’s your dream?” Dabi asks, pulling him into the center of the room where the spotlight shone.

“No, no no, sorry boys, I don’t sing.” Bakugou replied coolly. You stifled a laugh as he stared at you.

The league glared at him as the music kicked up again.

“I have dreams like you, no really! Just much less, touchy-feely. They mainly happen somewhere warm and sunny!” Bakugou began to sing, dancing around the bar.

“On an island that I own, tanned, and rested, and alone, surrounded by enormous piles of money!” Bakugou laid on the bar counter, propped up on his side as he pretended to relax on a beach.

“I’ve got a dream!”

“I’ve got a dream!” The rest of the league joined back in singing, while you pulled Bakugou off the counter, still controlling the others. You had to get out of here while they were still distracted. The song was almost over.

“She’s got a dream, he’s got a dream, they’ve got a dream, we’ve got a dream!” The league sang together.

“So our diff’rences ain’t really that extreme!”

“Call us brutal!” Shigaraki started.

“Sick.” Dabi added.

“Sadistic!” Twice and Toga sang harmoniously.

"And grotesquely optimistic.” Kurogiri sang, his voice was surprisingly really good.

“‘Cause way down deep inside, we’ve got a dream!” The league was singing together again.

You pulled Bakugou out of the bar and helped him down the alley as the two of you ran away, heading back toward the campus to let the heroes know.

“I’ve got a dream!” Shigaraki started again.

“I’ve got a dream!” Dabi was next.

“I’ve got a dream!”

“I’ve got a dream!” Kurogiri, Compress and Twice joined in.

“I’ve got a dream!” Toga smiled as she joined in. She was having a blast.

“Yes, way down deep inside I’ve got a dream!” They all joined in for the last line as the music faded out.

The lights returned to normal and everyone was able to move on their own.

“What the fuck!” Shigaraki cursed, shaking his body out as a chill raced through him.

“That was horrible!” Dabi groaned, staring at Shigaraki.

“I didn’t know you could play the piano!” Toga rushed over to Shigaraki.

“I can’t.” Shigaraki glared at the blonde girl.

“And who knew Kurogiri could sing so well!” Twice laughed.

“Never speak of this to anyone.” Shigaraki groaned, taking a breath from the entire show.

- - -

“Why’d you make me sing?!” Bakugou groaned as he held your hand, pulling you into the main campus building.

“My quirk affects everyone in the area. I didn’t have much of a choice. You had to do something or it would’ve messed up.” You sighed.

“Whatever. I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

“You have a nice voice.” You compliment him. Bakugou’s cheeks twinge red as he thinks about what you just said.

“It was kind of funny to see them all sing and dance like that huh?” You question, gripping his hand a bit softer, your own face heating up as he runs his thumb across the back of your hand.

“It was something alright. Let’s just get this dealt with. And don’t you dare tell anyone about this!” Bakugou stops, pulling you into him.

“I won’t, I promise!” You smile, looking into his crimson eyes.

“Good.” Bakugou’s eyes flick down to your lips and then back up to your eyes.

He pulls you in for a quick kiss, his lips locking onto yours for a few seconds before pulling away.

“Or that.” He pouts, huffing his cheeks as he returns to walking, leaving you stunned as you slowly catch up, excitement bubbling inside you.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

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khattikeri · 2 years

Text

log 7.mar.22

sometimes i think about that one time in 7th grade or so when... okay before that, it had to do with my math teacher, who i absolutely hated and whose class i hated because my grades weren't as high as i wanted them to be and i was already starting to feel the effects of being a gifted kid has-been.

he was a skinny middle aged man involved with our school's jazz band, and based on all the jazz posters and paintings of trumpets and saxophones in his classroom and how bored and tired and irritable he was, i always figured he was the sort of person who hated his direction in life and wished he could've become a jazz musician instead of a middle school teacher.

he rolled his eyes often. he was the sort of grump who would take sadistic pleasure in making the whole class close our eyes so we could hear him crack open a soda can and drink from it while we were still waiting for school to end so we could have snacks. he still teaches math there, now that i check.

(this has nothing to do with my story, but i feel it's necessary to know.)

anyway, i hated this man.

so one day he said something to me-- snarking probably, maybe an insult, it's been almost a decade so i honestly don't remember anymore-- but whatever it was, it really affected me and the entire rest of the class period i was in this terrible mental spiral, spaced out and snapping a rubber band against my wrist wanting it to bleed and hurt more and trying really hard not to cry. and the bell rang for that class to end so i took my stuff and i left down the hallway.

and a few moments later someone touched my shoulder and got me to turn around. and it was that teacher, who had rushed out of the classroom and through a throng of sweaty middle schoolers just to reach me. and he looked harried, a little awkward, and in a weird sort of jumbled rush he said "hey. hey. i just wanted to say i'm sorry."

at the time most of what i felt was embarrassment, because his apology meant that he had noticed. he noticed how affected i had been by what he said. i said something equally awkward back-- probably quietly nodding or saying some variant of "oh, it's okay" or something. and he just nodded back, and said again that he just wanted to tell me that. and then he turned around and went back to his classroom.

up til that point and for every teacher i've had afterward i have never had a teacher, other than that man, apologize to me for something as seemingly inconsequential as hurting my feelings. i don't think in all 21 years of my life that either of my parents have ever apologized so sincerely for hurting my feelings with their words and actions.

this memory has been stuck in my mind the past few days, and i always end up crying whenever i dwell on it.

this was a man i absolutely loathed. i despised him and his stupid math class. this man who i couldn't have hated more noticed that he made me upset with some careless words and went out of his way to catch up to me after class during the passing period and tell me to me to my edgy, depressive 13-year-old braces-wearing face that he was sorry.

i don't remember what he even said to hurt me, but almost 10 years later i remember that he was sorry.

it hurts to think about.

#keri chats #tentatively ok to rb #personal

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

Text

Swipe Right {Rowaelin Fluff Modern AU}

Part TWO to Swipe Left {Rowaelin Fluff}

Written alongside the beautiful and talented @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty

Aelin looked in the mirror one final time. She had to look absolutely perfect, of course, even though she was just visiting Rowan at work. It had been a little over a year since she had met the love of her life in the airport, and life was pretty perfect.

She had no complaints.

And from what she could tell, the perfection would only continue to grow.

After brushing through her long, golden hair, Aelin slipped on a pair of brown sandals to go with her turquoise t-shirt dress and called it good.

It had been an eventful morning, to say the least, starting with a quick workout and brunch with Lysandra. After that, she’d showered and gotten ready, checking her email for an offer letter from one of the many companies she’d applied to. The paid internship she’d taken had ended a couple weeks back and while Rowan had been more than generous, not asking her to pay rent when she’d moved in, she needed to start pulling her weight.

Rowan said she could pay him in other ways and she snorted and shoved him.

Aelin liked to contribute. She liked to help out.

Nonetheless, she was hurrying down the steps, as quickly as she could, and to her car. Once inside, she was starting the engine and pulling out of the parking space before the radio could even catch up and begin playing music.

She was giddy, could hardly control herself.

She couldn’t wait to show Rowan.

In her defense, though, she was also bringing him lunch just before his lunch period, so it wasn’t all about her surprise. It was about the kind, loving gesture that could only be shown through bringing your significant other food.

She had to make one stop before she stopped at the school, though, and that was the most important of the day.

Rowan turned around and crossed his arms as he looked at his class. “Can anybody tell me who Abigail Williams is?”

He was met with silence.

“You learned about her last year, with Ms. Lochan.”

Not even a blink of recognition.

He sighed and rubbed between his brows with his thumb and forefinger. “First person who can tell me anything about her gets to leave for lunch ten minutes early.”

A male voice spoke up. “She was accused of being a witch, right?”

“Good, Quinton, she was.” He pointed at the student, who was a basketball player. He’d never put any effort into his studies until recently, when he realized colleges care about your grades, too, not just how many three pointers you can hit. “Where?”

Quinton hesitated.

“Starts with a S,” Rowan slowly.

“Salem,” Quinton said, without any hesitation.

Rowan leaned back against the whiteboard, arms crossed. “Very goo-.”

His words dropped off as he noticed a flutter of movement in the doorway out of the corner of his eye. His class had noticed, too, because he instantly lost their attention as Aelin gave him an amused look.

Rowan couldn’t be mad. His eyes softened as he said, “You all remember my-.”

She was met with a series of loud hellos and hollers, which only made her grin widen - and her ego grow to an uncontrollable level, no doubt.

She held up a bag. “I brought lunch. I didn’t mean to be early. I’ll just…” She pointed to Rowan’s desk in the back corner of the room, indicating her destination.

He chuckled and nodded. He turned his attention back to his class, trying to reclaim their attention. “Alright, next week, we’re going to start on the Salem Witch Trials.” There was a flutter of excitement, which was atypical for sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds in school. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, because yes, it’s extremely interesting, but there’s also a lot of dates or boring stuff.” There was a collective groan, knowing Rowan would give one of his date only quizzes for extra credit. “But...we’re also going to be watching a movie next week. Which leads me to our homework…” Cue the groans again.

“Witches are a commonly adapted piece of folklore in modern media. Monday, I want you to bring in an example of your favorite adaptation of witches from movies, tv shows, music videos, whatever it may be. Wednesday, I want an example of other times there were witch hunts in history, aside from Salem. Not too hard, but we’re going to be taking a lot of notes. Be ready.” He glanced at his watch and saw it was ten til. He nodded his head at Quinton. “Q, you ready for lunch?”

He nodded yes and started packing up his backpack.

Rowan shrugged and said, “I’m feeling generous today. Pick a buddy to go with you.”

Quinton smirked and turned around, pointing to Aelin. “You hungry, Miss G?”

The class erupted into good natured heckling.

Aelin laughed, quietly. “I’m afraid I’ve already eaten.”

“Too bad,” Quinton murmured, earning another round of laughter. “Evangeline, then.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes but began packing up, anyway.

Rowan gestured for them both to go then told the others to get started on their homework, which meant they’d be talking quietly among themselves or on their phones, until the bell rang.

Rowan made his round around the room and ended by his desk, sitting on the edge. His smile had faded, and he wore a concerned frown. “Why’d you come in such a hurry? Don’t get me wrong, I love that you’re here, but...I mean, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

He hated that he had to miss the appointment, but he was saving his vacation days for the months when Aelin would need him home.

“No, nothing, just…” She shrugged her shoulders trying to appear cool and casual, but inside she was about to explode. “Wanted to see you.”

She couldn’t tell if he believed her, he smiled softly, but the wariness was still in his eyes. “Well?” He asked.

She laughed, quietly. “You don’t think I should maybe wait until you don’t have a class of eavesdropping teenagers around?”

She gave a pointed glance behind him and he caught two of his students quickly turning around.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. He glanced over at the clock, they still had a few minutes. “What did you bring me for lunch?”

Aelin chuckled before she said, “Ham and cheese sandwich, a bag of chips, and cut up apples with some caramel to dip them in.”

Rowan’s smile was genuine when he said, “You spoil me.”

He reached for the bag, but she snatched it back. “It’s not fair of you to eat in front of your students,” she replied, smirking.

He rolled his eyes, but got back up, making another quick circle around the room.

“Mr. Whitethorn?” A girl’s hand raised. “We have a question about what we can use for our media. Movies are okay, right?”

He figured the question would be coming and he was glad someone asked it, rather than half the class having to scramble like the grade before them did last year. “Movies are permitted, but PG-13 or lower. Can’t be rated R.” There was a chorus of groans. “I don’t make the rules, sorry, but if I did, you still wouldn’t be allowed to.”

The bell rang and as everyone rushed for the door, he called, “Alright, don't forget your homework and have a great weekend!”

They were out the door before he’d finished his sentence. Aelin was chuckling from where she sat on his desk.

In a flash, Rowan was at the door, locking it, pulling the privacy blind and then at his desk. He pressed his lips to Aelin’s and said, “Okay, well?”

She laughed and handed him the brown sack that his lunch was in. Rowan looked at the bag and said, “I appreciate you bringing me lunch, baby, but that’s not what I’m asking.”

The urge to roll her eyes was almost too strong to resist, but she said, “Open the bag, you frantic buzzard.”

With narrowed eyes in her direction, he did as he was asked, and froze. His eyes widened as his hand reached in and pulled out the little black and white ultrasound pictures.

He said absolutely nothing as he shuffled through them, his green eyes growing bright and misty.

Aelin watched him with complete adoration.

“Shit,” he breathed, shaking his head as he met Aelin’s loving gaze. “This is our kid.”

She nodded, a smile breaking on her lips. She didn’t try to stop the tears that slid down her cheek.

Aelin and Rowan had gotten married on the beach, almost six months to the day after they’d met. Neither of them had any immediate family and they both knew the wanted no one but the other for the rest of their days.

They’d suspected Aelin was pregnant a few weeks earlier. Her cycle hadn’t come and Rowan was actually the one who noticed it was late.

Now, their baby was growing and would be there in a matter of months. These were the first ultrasound pictures where the baby actually looked like a baby, not just a blob. They could see the head, the hands, the feet, everything.

“Yeah,” she smiled, and he took her face into his hands and kissed her, softly. “It’s our baby.”

“I’m so sad I missed it,” he whispered. “Instead, I was here talking about shit that none of these kids will remember tomorrow.”

“There will be others,” she promised. “Much more important appointments that you’ll be able to come to.”

His eyes lit up. “When do we find out if it’s a boy or girl?”

She rolled her eyes, kissing him once more. It had been a constant debate for them both the past month. Rowan was adamant it was a girl, but Aelin said she could feel that it was a boy. “She wants to schedule that for eighteen weeks, but says we may not be able to tell until twenty.”

Rowan waited and he asked, “And how pregnant are you right now?”

“Ro!” She laughed but shoved him. “This morning was eleven weeks.” She placed her hand over her stomach, the bump just barely starting to show.

He laid his hand over hers. “Six weeks until I get to see my beautiful baby girl.”

“Or your perfect, handsome son,” she laughed.

Rowan just said, “We’ll see.”

Aelin rolled her eyes and took a bite of his sandwich, which earned her a scowl from him. When she claimed it was because she was eating for two, Rowan couldn’t argue with that.

He sat in his desk chair, pulling her onto his lap as he started to eat. He only had thirty minutes before his next class came in, and he hated to say he was dreading it. As much as he loved his job, he was ready to be at home with his wife, rubbing her belly on the couch in his sweatpants.

Life was never as good to him as it was now before he met Aelin. Things weren’t bad, not at all, but he was never this happy.

Before, he used to love teaching. It was his passion and he was always one of the first into the school in the mornings and one of the very last to leave in the evening. He poured over his lesson plans at home, spent all of his spare time grading papers or homework. But now, he wanted that spare time to go to Aelin. Rather than get up at five-fifteen, and make it to school by six-thirty, he stayed in bed with Aelin as long as he could, sometimes not making it until right before the bell. Those were usually the mornings that Aelin awoke with his first alarm and scooted back into his warm embrace. And then continued to scoot until he had to get up.

She had completely consumed him, but he definitely wasn’t complaining about it.

And soon, there would be another little person to captivate him, too.

It was a Saturday, and the second Rowan opened his eyes, he realized Aelin was gone. He sat up, slowly, and blinked a few times to clear his surroundings.

She was nowhere.

“Ace?” He called.

“Kitchen!” She called back.

He picked up his phone to catch the time. 9:06. Just when he was about to ask why she was already out of bed on a lazy Saturday morning, the thought hit him.

Their gender reveal party was at noon.

He was up and rushing around the corner, grabbing it for traction as he rushed into the kitchen. His wife had an eyebrow raised, her hair piled into a messy bun on her head. She wore an old shirt from his college baseball days and a pair of his sweat pants she’d claimed as her own once her belly began to get too big for her own comfy clothes to fit. She held a cup of tea in her hands, carefully blowing on it. “Good morning,” she said with a smirk.

He stood upright and leaned on the wall. “Morning, babies.”

Aelin laughed as she rubbed a loving hand over her belly. He’d begun to refer to them as one, and she thought was the cutest thing she’d ever experienced.

“Is that breakfast?” He asked, with a yawn, throwing open the fridge for the entire carton of orange juice.

“No,” she said, with a pointed finger in his direction. “This is for the party, and if you touch any of it, I will kick you in the balls.”

Rowan froze as he turned, the carton halfway to his mouth. He was just now realizing how much there was on the counter. Multiple crockpots, bags and bags of junk, and something in the oven, seeing as how it was turned on and cooking.

“Exactly how many people are coming?” He asked, surprised.

Aelin shrugged. “Enough.”

At least they had just bought a new house and could fit a herd of people. Either way, Rowan was not a fan of large groups of people. His socially awkward nature prevented it.

Standing up in front of a class of kids? Sure. Easy.

Entertaining guests? Nope. Not his thing.

“I see that look on your face, calm down,” she said, chuckling as she meandered toward him and grabbed him by the hips. “I’ll entertain, you just make sure all the bowls I set out are constantly filled to the brim.”

Rowan grinned, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her mouth. “Alright, I can do that.”

She turned back to the counter, picking her tea back up. Rowan began pulling things out to make himself a protein shake. After blending it up, he hopped up on the counter and looked at Aelin. “What can I do to help?”

“I need you to go pick up the cake,” Aelin said, washing her mug and placing it back in the cabinet.

Rowan blinked at her. “Like the cake? Like the cake our baby is in?”

She rolled her eyes. “First of all, you’re an idiot, you know that the baby isn’t in the cake. And secondly, we’re not doing a cake reveal, remember? But we are having a cake for the party.”

Rowan frowned. “Since when are we not doing a cake reveal?”

Aelin came up between his legs and looked up at him. “Since everyone else in the world did one.”

“Then why do we need a cake?” Rowan asked.

Aelin blinked. “Are you serious?”

Rowan just cleared his throat. “Okay, I’ll get the cake. What else?”

“Hang the decorations I got because I’m short.”

Rowan chuckled as he hopped off the counter. “Fair enough.”

A loud knock came to the front door but before anyone could walk toward it, it flew open and Lysandra came flying in, plastic bags full of decor in each hand.

“Hello, mommy and daddy-to-be!” She sang, setting the bags on the counter and immediately getting to work.

“Or I guess Lysandra is going to take care of that,” Aelin chuckled.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her forehead and went to go get ready for the day while Aelin sat and talked to Lysandra. Just like Rowan, her best friend hadn’t allowed her to lift a finger throughout her pregnancy. He was just entering the bathroom when he heard Aedion enter the house and say, “Good morning, Aelin. You’re looking plump this morning.”

Thirty minutes later, Aedion was riding to the bakery with a freshly showered and shaved Rowan, having been kicked out of the house by Lysandra.

“How was I supposed to know she was going to cry?” He asked, shrugging his shoulders.

“She’s five months pregnant, man,” Rowan laughed. “Her emotions are all over the place, pretty much assume everything might make her cry right now.”

“Huh,” Aedion said, staring out the window. “The pregnant mind is one I don’t wish to understand.”

“Me either,” Rowan muttered. “Just wait until you knock up Lysandra.”

Aedion groaned. “Yeah, that can wait.”

Rowan laughed as he drove into the parking lot of the bakery and hopped out. He ran in to pick up the biggest, most elaborate gender reveal cake. It was for a small gathering, of course, but for a handful of people, the five tier cake was a bit much.

Which was why Rowan walked ridiculously slowly, cautiously, to the back of the car. He opened the trunk and slowly slid it in.

Aedion was just staring. “No wonder Aelin didn’t want to come pick it up. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for ruining that.”

“Thanks, man,” Rowan mumbled, climbing back in the front seat.

Aedion picked up the receipt and looked at it. “Gods, that’s way too many zeros at the end for a cake.”

Rowan sighed and said, “If it makes her happy, I do whatever she asks.” Aedion smirked. He asked, “What?”

The smirk softened. “Nothing, just… I always hoped Aelin could find someone who loved her the way I love Lysandra. I just didn’t think it would be on Tinder.”

Rowan groaned. The fact that they’d met on a glorified fuck-buddy app brought Aedion a lot more joy than it should have.

“Technically,” Rowan began, “We met in the airport.”

“Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that,” Aedion said, as Rowan slowly pulled onto the road. The drive back to the house was ten minutes longer than it should have been, due to the ridiculously slow speed Rowan was driving at to keep the cake safe.

When they arrived, it was just after eleven and Lysandra was already wrapping up her intense decorating agenda. The house was draped in pink and blue streamers, banners, and little frilly things that Rowan thought were ridiculous and pointless, but he kept that thought to himself.

“Where’s Aelin?” He asked, once he and Aedion set the cake, successfully, on the island.

“Bedroom, dressing,” Lysandra said, still scowling at an exasperated Aedion.

“I’ll be back,” Rowan sighed.

He walked down the hall to their bedroom, knocking softly on the door. “Ace?” There was a quiet answer and slipped in.

She was in her closet, and when he entered the bathroom, she said, “Baby, can you help me put on my shoes? I can’t reach my feet anymore.”

He found her sitting on a small chair, her foot halfway in a sandal.

He laughed and knelt down, latching the shoe around her - honestly, very swollen - ankle and then did the same with the other. He kissed her knee then her pronounced bump, and looked up her face. “Aelin, I love you…but that cake is fucking excessive.”

She smiled. “Yes, it is.”

He rolled his eyes and stood, helping her to her feet as he went.

She was wearing a white dress, that hugged her body, highlighting the pronounced bump that grew more and more every day, and a loose, comfy cardigan. Her hair was piled on the top of her head.

He softly kissed her. “You look so beautiful.”

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. It was becoming difficult. She sighed and said, “Are you sure I’m not looking plump?”

“Baby, he was just joking,” he chuckled, rubbing her back.

She sniffled.

“Aelin, baby, don’t cry,” he cooed.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said, throwing her hands in the air, “and I don’t know why it makes me so mad that Aedion called me plump, which I am, and why I hate that my house is covered in pink and blue. I mean, pink and blue? That’s so normal, Ro, and I hate normal. Why didn’t we do purple and red? Or, shit, green and gold? I love green and gold. Pink and blue sucks, Ro.”

Rowan just stared at her as she babbled on before taking a long, deep breath. “How about this? Next week, when we start decorating the nursery, we’ll do it in green and gold. Okay? After today, you never have to look at blue or pink again.”

She wiped angrily at her nose. “Fine.”

“Fine,” he repeated, trying his hardest not to laugh. “I love you.”

She leaned up on her toes and he met halfway, pressing his lips to hers. “I love you, too.” She stepped out into the bathroom and made sure that her makeup was still intact and then said, “Let’s go see my fucking excessive cake.”

One by one, their friends showed up. Lysandra made everyone give their official guess as they came in and after everyone had arrived, it seemed the majority agreed that Aelin was correct and there would be a little heartbreaker running around soon.

Even with the pink and blue decorations, Aelin had to admit that everything was beautiful. Lysandra had done an amazing job, which she told her time and time again.

When the time came, everyone filed out into the backyard, Lysandra carrying a bat and a white box. She handed Rowan the bat and Aelin took the box, explaining that the ball inside would explode into a colorful cloud when hit. All she had to do was get it to Rowan. All he had to do was hit it.

“No pressure,” he mumbled, setting the bat down. He rolled up his sleeves, to which his friends whistled and howled, and got a few practice swings in. When he felt he could confidently hit a moving target, he got into position and nodded to Aelin.

Her grin was glorious as she threw the ball.

It was a terrible throw, but Rowan swung at it, nonetheless, and pink dust filled the air.

Everyone erupted into cheers as Aelin yelled WHAT THE FUCK, but when the cloud cleared, and Rowan caught her gaze, she was smiling at him with tears in her eyes.

Rowan whistled, looking around at their living room, which was full of opened gifts. Their baby shower had been that morning - Rowan had spent it playing basketball in the park with Lorcan - and they had been spoiled.

Earlier that week, Rowan had painted the nursery gold, and it seemed that everyone who went to the shower got the hint that gold and green was the theme.

Aelin sat in the chair, her feet up on the table in front of her. She nodded. Her voice wavered as she said, “I love our people.”

He smiled softly and pressed a kiss to her forehead. He knew this wasn’t a crazy pregnancy crying. No, this was the love she felt for their friends, how blessed and overwhelmed by their own love and generosity she was.

He took her hands and helped her to her feet. “Let’s go get comfy and put together our sweet girl’s nursery.”

She groaned as she moved towards their bedroom. “I’m eight months pregnant. I don’t even remember what comfortable is anymore.”

“Just take off your pants,” he suggested, as they entered their room. “No pants equals comfort.”

She snorted. “You just like me pants-less.”

He shrugged. “It’s a perk.”

As much as she thought he was joking, she did just that, putting on a gigantic t-shirt and some fuzzy socks. In his sweatpants, Rowan followed her down to the end of the hall, to where the nursery was.

She sat in the plush rocking chair they’d bought, knowing they’d be spending quite a bit of time in nursery. Aelin quietly watched Rowan as he worked, humming a lullaby and slowly rocking in the chair. One by one, Rowan built, put together or set up everything they received from the day.

He dragged a big box towards him, puzzled. “What is this thing?”

Aelin smiled. “A cooler with a built into bluetooth speaker and charging station.”

He blinked. “And why does the baby need that?”

“The baby doesn’t, but you do.” She laughed at his shocked expression. “It’s from Aedion and Lysandra. He said it was your bro shower gift.”

Rowan opened the box and peeked inside. “Have I mentioned how much I love your cousin?”

She snorted. “He’s aware of your bromance, yes.”

Rowan grinned as he put the box in the hallway and looked around. “Anything left that has to be put together?”

Aelin shook her head, slowly. “Just stuff that has to be put away.

Rowan opened up a little gift bag and pulled out a little red, polka dotted sundress. “Are you fucking kidding me? This is tiny.”

Aelin’s grin widened. “That’s from Elide. Along with a hundred other little outfits.”

But Rowan was staring at the newborn sundress. “Aelin, this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

She laughed. “Come with me, I’m about to blow your mind.” He raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes. “Not like that.”

With Rowan’s assistance getting out of the chair, she led him back down to their room. “I can’t bend over so… There’s a storage box under the bed. Put it up here.” She patted the mattress.

He did as he was told, grabbing a hold of a long, thin plastic tub, it’s lid was snapped securely in place, but it was full to bursting.

Rowan murmured, “She has more clothes than me. How does she already have more clothes than me?”

Aelin chuckled but skimmed through the small outfits, pulling a few of her favorites out. “Because Lysandra is her auntie.”

Rowan took the small blue onesie from Aelin. He held it in his hands, gazing down at it.

Aelin noticed his silence then and her smile faltered. “Baby?”

Aelin was floored when he looked up and there were tears shimmering on his face.

She hesitated, and when she spoke it was a whisper, “Gods, Are you crying?”

“No,” he said, but a tear had, in fact, fallen down his cheek. “It’s just so...small.”

She watched him, smiling softly, as he took in the little outfit.

“The baby is going to be tiny,” he breathed. “What if I break her?”

He chuckled, brushing it off, but she could see the genuine fear in his eyes.

“You won’t, Ro, you couldn’t.” She reached up and brushed the tear from his cheek, cupping his face in her hands. “She isn’t even here yet and you’re so in love with her. You wouldn’t ever do anything to hurt her.”

He nodded, but Aelin could see the trepidation still on his face. The whole pregnancy, he’d been her rock, the one constant motivator. She knew he was so ready for this baby, that she was already so loved, but it was normal to be scared.

“I love you,” she breathed, rising up on her tiptoes to kiss him. Her belly got in the way and she groaned as she was just barely too short of his lips.

He laughed and leaned down, letting her stand back on her feet and wrapping his arms around her. “I love you, too.”

They went back to the nursery, Rowan carrying the massive tub so Aelin could begin folding them and putting them in her dresser. As he was unwrapping diapers and putting them in their designated drawer, Rowan said, “So I had an idea for a name.’

Aelin paused and turned. “Okay?’

She was having this baby in less thirty days and they had yet to find a name they agreed on. The closest they’d come was with Nora, which Aelin had decided after a day of overthinking, was that Nora was an old person's name. Rowan had said that it was classy and timeless. Nonetheless, it went into the no pile, and they continued looking.

He leaned his back on the gold wall, crossing his arms over his chest, almost like he was bracing himself for her response. “Sloan.”

Aelin tilted her head to the left slightly. “Sloan?”

He nodded. “Sloan.”

“Hmm.” She closed her eyes and repeated the name a few more times, slowly, then with their last name, just to see. At last, she opened her eyes back up to meet her husband’s gaze and said, “I like Sloan.”

Rowan hesitated. “Wait, seriously?”

She laughed, leaning back on her hands from where she sat on the floor. “Yeah, seriously. I love it.”

Rowan still was in shock that she was in favor of a name suggested by him. He was still frozen in his place along the golden wall. “You’re worrying me. Are you feeling okay? I’m calling your doctor.”

“Shut up, you prick,” she said, smiling. They’d finally decided on a name, a name they both loved, a name they both agreed upon.

He chuckled and laid down in front of where she sat, his face inches from her round stomach. “Did you hear that, Sloan? Mama just told daddy to shut up. You should kick her in the ribs for that.” Their daughter did no such thing and Aelin quietly laughed, running a hand through Rowan’s newly cropped silver hair, as he scowled at her. He pressed a kiss just above her belly button. “What about this? Can you tell her how much I love her?” Aelin took a sharp breath in through her teeth as she felt a sharp pain in her side. Rowan’s deep rumble of a laugh traveled across her skin. “That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to her stomach, and gazed up at Aelin through his lashes, smirking. “Won’t take orders from a man. Just like her mama.”

Aelin sighed and shook her head. “Already turning her against me.”

“She’s a daddy’s girl,” Rowan muttered, yawning as he closed his eyes. It had been a long day, and he wasn’t even the one growing a human being inside of him. When he looked up at his wife, he could see her exhaustion. “I think we’ve done enough today, mama. Let’s go to bed.”

“Mama,” she repeated, quietly, eyes shining.

Rowan nodded, slowly, and took her hand. “One more month.”

Aelin brought Rowan’s hand to her lips as she smiled. “Yeah, one more month.”

___

“Ro.”

Rowan was having a beautiful dream, sleeping soundly, when his wife suddenly began shaking his shoulder with the wrath of a cranky, nearly full-term pregnant woman.

He groaned, opening his eyes, just barely, to look up at the alarm clock that sat on his side table. It was just after two.

“Go to bed, babe,” he mumbled.

“No, Ro,” she said, jabbing him in the back with her knee.

“Ow, Damn,” he hissed, pushing himself up on his elbows with a sigh. “What? Are you okay?”

“No,” she breathed.

His body tensed as he reached over to turn on the lamp, and when he did, he saw Aelin sitting up, eyes wide, a dark circle spotted on their light gray bed sheet.

Rowan blinked. “What? You woke me up cause you pissed your-“

“My water broke, you asshole,” Aelin snapped.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered, eyes wide. He jumped out of bed, grabbing for the jeans he’d discarded on top of the hamper the night before. “Oh, shit!”

Aelin was breathing heavily, and clutching at her stomach. “She’s coming,” she whispered, “she’s coming, she’s coming, she’s coming.”

Rowan was there immediately, sitting on the bed in front of her, taking her hand in his and letting her squeeze as hard as she could. “What do you need me to do, baby?

“Are the bags packed?” She asked, voice tight.

He nodded. “Yes, ours are in the dining room on the way out the door and Sloan’s in the truck, with her carseat, already buckled in and ready for her.”

“You’re such a good daddy,” she breathed, face showing relief as the pain in her abdomen subsided.

Rowan pressed a kiss to her forehead and said, “Come on, let’s get you changed and go meet our precious girl.”

A slight look of panic crossed her face, but it quickly turned to excitement and adoration. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Rowan breathed, and helped her to her feet. She kept on the oversized tee she had and Rowan helped her slip on some cozy pants and her flip flops before they were hurrying out the door.

The car ride was miserable. They got stuck at every red light along the way and the contractions quickly became stronger and closer together.

When they got to the hospital, Rowan parked as close as he could to the entrance. It helped that it was the middle of the night. After helping her to the door and into a wheelchair, Aelin was met with a nurse and then she was being wheeled away. Rowan, and their bags, just behind.

“I feel like we forgot something,” Aelin said, as Rowan tied the back of her hospital gown and helped her into the bed.

“We talked about this,” Rowan began, pulling a chair up close to the side, “Fleetfoot isn’t allowed in the hospital, Ace.”

She chuckled, but the gesture was quickly replaced with a contorted look of pain.

“Breathe,” the nurse whispered, calmly, as she finished hooking Aelin up to a series of machines. One took blood pressure, one kept track of the contractions, one monitored her heartbeat, another monitored the baby’s.

Looking at all of the machines gave Rowan a headache.

“How far apart are your contractions, dear?” The nurse asked, taking notes on her chart.

“About eleven minutes apart, but my water broke,” Aelin said, resting back in the bed, trying to get comfortable while she still could.

She smiled and said, “Not uncommon for a first time mom. We’ll keep an eye on it, but for now, why don’t you try and get some more sleep.”

“Sleep?” Aelin asked, her eyebrows raising. “I can’t sleep right now, I’m having a baby. I want my epidural and to push her out.”

The nurse, a sweet-looking older woman named Alis, laughed softly. “Sorry, hon. You can’t get an epidural until your contractions are about five minutes apart. Just relax and we’ll come check on you in a little bit.”

Alis left and Aelin stared after her. “I can’t sleep,” she mumbled, looking at Rowan. “How does she expect me to sleep? I’m about to shove our daughter out of my vag.”

“Great visual, babe,” he sighed, sitting next to her and taking her hand with his free one. His phone was in his other. “Here it is,” he began reading. “In the early stages of labor, mothers-to-be are encouraged to rest and relax. If labor begins at night, it's best to try and go back to sleep until contractions have increased to require all of your focus.”

“Fabulous,” Aelin mumbled. “Can I have my phone?”

“Sure, baby, where is it?” He asked, reaching for her purse.

She looked at him. “I thought you had it.”

Rowan’s brows furrowed. “Why would I have had your phone?”

Aelin’s eyes narrowed. “Because I asked you to grab it on the way out the door when you went back for your tablet.”

Rowan didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His eyes said enough: Ohhh shit.

She let her head fall back against the pillows and closed her eyes, settling back and trying to get comfy. “I knew we forgot something.”

“I’ll ask Aedion and Lysandra to get it on the way.” He yawned and leaned back in the chair, pulling the ball cap covering his messy, silver hair lower over his eyes.

It was quiet for a minute and then Rowan said, already dozing off, “If you don’t have your phone, I assume that means you haven’t told anyone she’s on the way?”

Aelin replied, “Nope.”

He re-situated his hat and pulled out his phone. Since things didn’t seem to be progressing too quickly, he sent a quick text to their friends, not wanting to call and wake everyone. Save for one person: Lysandra.

Thirty seconds later, Rowan’s phone was ringing. With a sigh, he answered. “Hell-.”

“You didn’t call me on the way to the hospital?!” Lysandra’s loud voice came through to his ear.

“Sorry, I was a little busy trying to get my wife to the hospital,” Rowan said, yawning. “Nothing’s happened yet, don’t worry, I’ll call when things pick up. Her water broke and now she’s being told to go back to sleep.”

“Which I can’t do and my husband forgot my phone!” Aelin said, loudly, obviously frustrated.

There was a second of silence on the other end before Lysandra said, “Seriously? You didn’t grab her phone?”

“Don’t worry, she’s giving me a look that is equivalent to being stabbed, I’m being punished,” Rowan muttered.

“Let me talk to her.”

Rowan held out his phone without any hesitation. He heard Lysandra rattle off a series of questions and Aelin silently nodded along to each, softly biting the side of her finger. It was a nervous ‘twitch’ she’d picked up in the past few months and couldn’t seem to break it when she was thinking. “Okay, I got it. You know where the spare key is and I’ll send you the rest.” He heard Lysandra saying something else and Aelin’s eyes flicked over to him. “I haven't decided yet. I’ll let you know. Love you.” Lysandra replied and then Aelin ended the call, handing the phone back to Rowan.

He had an eyebrow raised, and though every instinct in his body instinct told him not to, he asked, “Decided what?”

She pouted her lips slightly and was about to reply when another contraction began. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit.”

He was up, his phone forgotten on the side table, and he took her hand. “Breathe, baby. Just breathe through it.”

“I’m deciding,” she said, through her teeth, “if I’m having Lysandra pick something up from Starbucks for you on the way here, or just me.”

He raised his eyebrows, rubbing soothing circles in her back with his free hand, but he said, “That’s cold, baby.”

“Well you forgot your pregnant wife’s phone on the way to give birth to your daughter,” she said, finally remembering to do the breathing exercises they’d learned.

Rowan sighed and said, “That’s fair.”

Aelin ended up having Lys get Rowan his coffee, too. They were even able to get a couple more hours sleep between the contractions, but when Lysandra blew threw the door at five-thirty, a bleary-eyed Aedion behind her, they were both up and Rowan was eating a sad, cold, hospital cafeteria breakfast.

“Oh, bless your hearts, thank the gods I brought real food.” She held up a bag from Aelin’s favorite bakery.

“Chocolate croissants?” Aelin asked, her eyes going wide.

“And they’re still warm, haven’t even been out of the oven for ten minutes,” Lysandra said, handing her the bag. With the other hand she extended her phone.

Aelin snatched both. Rowan knew better than to ask for a croissant. Lysandra held up a cup of coffee to him, her emerald eyes narrowed. “In your defense, she had left it in under the blankets in the bed.”

Aelin was sniffing the croissant as the door swung open, once again, and Alis came in, cheerily asking, “Good morning!”

“Good morning,” Aelin groaned. “When can we get this thing out of me?”

It had quickly turned from my daughter to this thing as the morning went on.

“I’m going to check where you’re at, and we’ll see,” she smiled.

Alis eyed the coffee and bag of goodies as she approached, but before she could say anything, Aelin said, “Don’t worry, they’re just for smell. I’m waiting to eat them after baby gets here...which will be soon, right?”

Aedion had made himself scarce the moment Alis ordered Aelin to put her feet up, but Lysandra was sitting on the edge of the bed. Rowan was still eating his shitty cafeteria waffle as Alis checked where Aelin was at. Five minutes later, the nurse was tossing her gloves into the trash and washing her hands.

“I believe your baby girl will be here sometime this afternoon,” she smiled, hands on her hips. “I’ll be in to give you the epidural in a few hours. Until then, continue to relax as much as possible. I’ll bring in more ice chips for you to munch on while you sniff your baked goods.”

She left and Aelin groaned as she let her head fall back into the pillows. “After noon,” she said, making sure the words were separated. “As in after twelve pm, which is still seven hours away.”

Lys patted her hand. “It could be sooner. She might decide she’s ready to be here now.”

Aelin turned and looked at her best friend, a look in her eyes that she hadn’t seen since they were in middle school and beating the shit out of each other in the girl’s locker room. They’d been inseparable ever since. “That would be horrible, too. Because then I wouldn’t get my epidural and I’d be in even more pain.”

Aedion said from the couch, mouth full, “She’ll get here in the perfect amount of time that you get your drugs and you aren’t in labor for two days.”

Aelin looked at him. “What are you eating.”

Aedion crumpled up the wax paper bag it had been in, trying to obscure the chocolate within. “Nothing.”

Aelin’s voice was like ice. “If I wasn’t due for a contraction any minute now, I’d punch you right in the dick.”

The room got silent and then Rowan’s phone rang. He glanced at it. “It’s Lorcan, babe, I need to get it.”

“Go,” she said, smiling wickedly. “Aedion can help me.” She held out her hand, waiting for his to squeeze.

Rowan patted his back as he walked by. “Hope that croissant was worth it.”

He answered as he stepped out into the hall. “Hey, man.”

Lorcan asked, “Your wife push out your demon spawn yet?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “No, she’s still a few hours away from her epidural and a while from pushing.”

Lorcan’s response was simple. “Gross. Hey, is your substitute giving your finals?”

He sighed, “I would assume, Lor, since they start on Wednesday, and my wife is giving birth to our daughter right now.”

“Fair enough,” Lorcan said. “Elide will be coming by at some point to see Aelin, and I’ll come by after classes end.”

“That’s probably about when she’ll be here, so make sure you call Lysandra first. I might be a little busy,” Rowan laughed.

Lorcan snorted, “Why? It’s not like you’ll be doing any of the hard work. You did your part nine months ago, when you nutted inside of-.”

Probably louder than he should have, in a hospital wing just after sunrise, Rowan said, “Goodbye, Lorcan,” and hung up the phone.

Considering how his best friend usually spoke, Rowan had to admit that the conversation had actually been pretty tame. I’m fact, he was pretty sure that was Lorcan being sweet and caring. Which is why, once he opened the door to Aelin’s room, Rowan said, “Lorcan said good luck.”

Aelin, next to Aedion who was rubbing his now-sore hand, blinked. “Are you sure? That’s uncharacteristic of him.”

“He also says that Elide will come by soon.”

“That sounds more accurate,” Aelin said, then yawned. “Can you at least go get me some magazines or something? I’m bored as hell and hurting like shit.”

His stomach grumbled and he said, “I’m absolutely starving, so what if I go grab some food that doesn’t look like it could come to life and eat me instead, and I’ll pick up that new book you’ve been wanting?”

“You mean you’re going to leave?” Her eyes went wide, filling with tears.

He was instantly by her side, her face in his hands. “I won’t, I don’t have to. I can eat the radioactive cafeteria food and run down to the gift shop for the magazines. I was just going to run to the Walmart that has a McDonalds in it down the road. Two birds, one stone.”

Her eyes were still panicked and Lysandra, hearing Rowan’s stomach growl ferociously again, said, “Ro, why don’t you run down to grab some magazines, and Aedion will go get you food and the book for Aelin?”

It was less of a question and more of a “Get your asses in gear, this is what we’re doing” statement, and with Aelin’s sniffling nod of confirmation. The men were off, Rowan coming back with a few magazines and the sweetest stuffed animal that Aelin had ever seen.

“What is that?” she laughed, eating another bite of ice chips.

Rowan sheepishly held the white ball of fluff in his hands. “I realized that when we were packing her bag, we didn’t bring her anything but clothes and diapers and the essential stuff. And I know she has tons at home, but... I wanted to give her her first stuffed animal, as her daddy, so…”

Aelin’s eyes were rimmed with tears as she said, “Can I see?”

His cheeks burned. “I didn’t have many great options, they’re doing a remodel down there, so… The White-Tailed Hawk was the highlighted animal of the month.” He held the soft bird out to her.

Aelin huffed a laugh as she took the bird into her hands and ran her fingers over the soft fur. “It’s perfect.”

She clung to that stuffed animal for the next few hours as Rowan ate his McDonalds. The book, however, had to wait, because by the time Aedion got back with everything, the contractions were brutal.

At least Rowan had finished his egg McMuffin before they pulled out the longest needle he had ever seen, making him lightheaded.

He nearly fainted when they stuck that needle into Aelin’s back.

It wasn’t much longer that she grew numb from the waist down, and not too much longer after that she felt the slightest bit of pressure, letting Alis know that the baby was wanting to make her grand appearance into the world.

Lysandra, much to her disappointment, was told she had to leave while Rowan remained, holding her hand as she began to push.

“You’re doing so good,” Rowan whispered, five minutes in. “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Aelin closed her eyes and pressed her sweaty forehead against his, just as she started to push again.

They had both heard horror stories of women who had to push for hours and hours and hours. Thankfully, Aelin was not one of them, because half an hour after the first push, a soft cry filled the silent room.

“She’s here, baby, she’s here.” There were tears streaming down Rowan Whitethorn’s face as the doctors placed the small, wailing infant on Aelin’s chest. The cries quieted almost immediately and he kissed her head. “I love you so much. You did so amazing, Ace.”

Aelin was crying, looking down into the perfect face of her daughter. “Hello, beautiful girl. We’ve been waiting for you.”

Rowan laughed quietly, though even Aelin admitted that it sounded closer to a sob.

————

About an hour later, a quiet knock came from the door. Rowan opened the door to find Lysandra and Aedion waiting.

All it took was one smile from Rowan and Lysandra began to cry, throwing her arms around him. “Congratulations.”

He hugged her back, trying his best not to tear up again himself. “Thank you. Come meet her.”

After a quick hug from Aedion, Rowan led them into the room, where Aelin, fresh faced and hair in a messy bun on the top of her head, sat in the bed, gazing adoringly at the small bundle in her arms.

“Do you want to meet Auntie Lys and Uncle Aedion?” She cooed down at her daughter.

Sloan was sleeping, but it didn’t stop Lysandra from pressing her lips against the newborn's head, where a striped knit hat was pulled over her tufts of golden hair.

“Meet Sloan Elia Whitethorn,” Aelin said, quietly, brushing her finger over Sloan's soft cheek.

“She’s beautiful,” Lysandra whispered, and the moment Aelin asked if she wanted to hold her, Lysandra was crying again.

Rowan watched the entire scene play out from just inside of the door, leaning up against the wall. His wife, holding his baby girl. His friends, family, admiring their little creation. There was nothing like it. He had never imagined life could be so perfect, so joyful. He had never imagined he could love someone, two someones, so much.

And to think, he owed it all to a fucking dating app and an absurdly long layover at the airport.

He was so damn happy he swiped right.

#part 2 #rowaelin #tog #throne of glass #rowan #aelin #fanfic #fanfition #oneshot #sjm #collab

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djarinslover · 3 years

Text

Always Be My Maybe

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: Little over 2k

A/N: Yes, I stole the title from the movie Always Be My Maybe but I thought this title would really work with this fic idea I have. This is going to be a series and I’m excited to see where it goes. Enjoy!

You were minding your own business at recess, reading a book when three older boys came up to you. They began picking on you, making fun of you being by yourself and calling you names. No teacher was around and no one else seemed bother by what was happening. You tried to ignore them until one of them snatches the book out of your hands.

“Hey!” you cried out, reaching up. “Give it back!”

“What are you gonna do about it?” he taunted, holding the book high over your head.

“I know what I’m going to do!” someone called out behind them.

The boys turned around to find a boy around your age glaring at them with his fists raised. The older boys laughed, rolling their eyes until the boy threw a punch into one boy’s stomach. The boy doubled over in pain, falling to the ground as his friends just watched. They looked dumbfounded, staring at the younger boy who was still glaring at them.

“Anyone else?”

The older two shook their heads before grabbing their friend and hurried away. The boy picked up the book that was thrown to the ground, handing it back to you with a smile.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.” You shyly take the book back, holding it to your chest as you looked at him. “Who are you? I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m Jack. I just moved here with my mom.”

“Oh, nice!” You introduce yourself, biting at the skin on your lip anxiously. “What grade are you in?”

“I just started seventh.”

“Hey, me too!”

Jack sat down next to you, peering over at the book. “Whatcha reading?”

You tilt the book towards him, letting him read the title. His nose crinkles as he laughs, making you laugh in return. “Look, I read a lot and sometimes it can be the most random find in the library. Leave me alone.” You teasingly stick your tongue out at him.

The two of you laugh and talk the rest of recess, waving goodbye when the free time ended. All throughout the day, you couldn’t help but think about your new friend. At the end of the day as you were walking home, you noticed Jack was walking ahead of you. You jog to catch up to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned, smiling as he sees you.

“Hey, stranger!” he greeted.

“You walk home, too?”

“Yeah. My mom works late and we don’t live on a bus route.”

“Me, either. Which street?”

“Winchester Lane,” he said.

“No way! That’s my street, too!”

You laugh loudly at the coincidence, jostling each other as you walk. You learn Jack is the new neighbor you had seen moving in the other day. The two of you giggle some more as you realize you were neighbors. When you reach home, you notice how reluctantly he climbs his stairs. You call out to him, “Wanna come over? My parents can make us snacks and help with homework.”

Jack’s face lit up at the invite, rushing down his steps to bounce up yours. You burst through the front door, tugging Jack into the kitchen to meet your parents.

“Mom, Dad, this is my new friend. His name is Jack and he’s our next door neighbor!”

Your parents pause their dinner prep, turning around with wide grins on their faces. Your mom bends down to bring Jack into a hug, making him look at you with a plea for help at how tightly she was squeezing him.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Jack!” your mom cooed. “Are your parents home? We’d love to meet them.”

“I only have my mom, and she’s at work ‘til later. She’s a nurse.”

Your mom nods while your dad ruffles Jack’s hair, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Do you kids want a snack?’

“Duh, dad. No one can do homework on an empty stomach.”

You throw your bag onto the table, sliding into a chair. You gesture for Jack to sit, so he followed awkwardly. He pulls his homework out of his bag and begins to work. Your dad sets down a bowl of apple slices and caramel for the two of you to share. You both munch happily as you try to figure out a math problem.

A few weeks into your friendship, you had your first sleepover. Jack’s mom wasn’t comfortable leaving him home alone on the nights she had to work, and he didn’t want a babysitter. Your parents offered to have him sleepover those nights she worked, they only asked she provide a few extra bucks for groceries. It was a great arrangement if they asked you.

Though Jack was supposed to sleep in the guestroom, the two of you set up camp in the living room the first night of your sleepover adventures. Your parents let it slide since it was a Friday. You two had popcorn, soda and a bunch of movies. Jack even managed to sneak a movie you weren’t supposed to watch until you were older. The Conjuring.

“I don’t know, Jack. My parents could come out and check on us at any moment . . .”

“Live a little! Every kid our age has seen a scary movie already! We gotta be cool like them!”

You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought it through. When you met Jack’s puppy dog eyes, you shrugged. “Fine. But I’m leaving you for the demon when it comes to get us.”

“I’ll outrun you, no problem.”

He popped the movie in and you settled into your blankets, popping popcorn in your mouth. As the movie went on, the more on edge you became. You and Jack were scooting closer and closer to each other, until at one point you were holding each other. There was a part in the movie that got you both to scream, throwing your blankets over your heads and screwing your eyes shut. Your parents came running, turning the lights on as they entered the room.

“Are you two okay?! We heard you scream!” your mother said.

You peeked from under the safety of the blankets, seeing your dad brandishing a bat and your mom kneeling in front of the couch. Your eyes flickered to the tv, making your mom turn to see what you were looking at. Her eyebrows flew into her hairline, lips taunt and arms crossing as she looked back at you.

“I see you’ve been watching something you shouldn’t have been.”

You exchange a sheepish look with Jack, neither one of you confessing who’s idea it was the watch the movie. Your dad sighed as he trudged back to bed, bat dragging on the floor. Your mom rubbed her temples.

“Bed, both of you. Now.”

You both nod, standing and heading for your rooms. You stopped as you look into your dark room. You turn back to your mom. “Mom? Can Jack sleep with me?”

She quirked an eyebrow.

“I really don’t want to sleep alone.”

“I don’t want to, either.”

She sighed, turning the tv off. “Go. I’m telling your mother in the morning, Jack.”

You dash to your room, Jack hot on your heels. When you’re both curled up in bed and your mom said goodnight for a second time, you fall into a fit of giggles.

“No more scary movies until we’re older, got it?”

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry,” Jack huffed out through giggles.

The two of you finally calmed down, laying face to face and drifting off.

Your friendship continued to blossom. The two of you were inseparable, always attached at the hip, always having sleepovers, study sessions, adventures. The two of you balanced each other well. Jack was a mischievous troublemaker and you were the peacekeeper. You helped him get out of trouble and he helped you out of your comfort zone. Your parents and his mom joked that the two of you were get married in the future, since you were hardly ever seen without each other.

As the two of you got older, you began to develop feelings for Jack. You didn’t like to think much about them, even though every time you were near him you felt like your stomach was going to explode from the rush of butterflies. You thought every kid developed a small crush on their closet friend; it was normal, right?

You never said anything to your parents, afraid they would tease you every time Jack was around. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact moment you started having a crush on him, only remembered the day you noticed how beautiful he was.

The two of you were laying on your bed after a long week of starting high school, looking for something to watch on Netflix. While Jack was flipping so fast through the movies, you stopped paying attention. Instead, you began studying your best friend. His lips were pursed, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. You noticed the little details to his face you never seemed to see before. Like the few freckles that dotted along his jawline, the way his nose hooked just slightly, the way his Adam's apple was growing every day with puberty. His hair was getting longer, curling at the ends and sideburns slowly filling in. His tongue flicked out to lick his dry, pink lips, drawing your attention to them. You wondered what it would be like to kiss him.

"Aha! This seems interesting, lets watch this!" he exclaimed, startling you out of your thoughts.

You advert your eyes from him to the tv, looking at the movie 'What Happened To Monday' on screen. You shrug, leaning back against your headboard. "Sure, sounds good."

Jack nestled into your side as the movie started, making your heart leap to your throat. He was so warm and smelled so good, like lavender shampoo and mint. It made you flush, grateful for the movie keeping his attention. You don't what you would've done if he noticed your face. It was too hard to pay attention to the movie with his weight against you. It’s not like you’ve never cuddled him before, but this time was different. You felt the heat of his body where he was pressed against you, the rise and fall of his chest, every breath he took. You felt like you were holding your breath during the whole movie, until you drifted off to sleep in his arms.

When you awoke, the home screen of Netflix was up and you were nestled into the side of Jack. Your head was in the crook of his neck, his arm wrapped snuggly against your waist to keep you close. You froze, heart picking up speed as you realized what position you were in. You didn’t want to move, waking him wasn’t what you wanted to do. So, you lay trapped by your best friend (and crush) in your own bed. He snored, making you jolt in surprise before snickering quietly. You wondered what time it was, then slowly fell back to sleep due to the warm sensation of Jack holding you.

When you woke up the next morning, Jack was on his phone. Still laying in your bed, mind you. You might have to get a bigger bed if he was going to keep sleeping next to you. You weren’t those gangly twelve year old’s anymore. You stretch, drawing his attention to you.

“Good morning, sunshine!” he exclaimed, beaming as brightly as the sun shining in your room.

“What time is it?”

“Almost ten. Wanna go get breakfast? Your parents went to work.”

“How do you know?”

“They came in about an hour ago to check on you. They had no idea I was here, haha.”

You flush, not ready for “The Talk” you were surely going to get from them later tonight. You sit up, shaking your bedhead and stretching some more. “Yeah, sure. Let’s go to Betty’s, I’m craving waffles.”

You and Jack spent your Saturday wandering around town, doing the same shit you’ve done since you’d known him. On your way back home, his mom called. She sounded urgent, tone making Jack’s face tighten with anxiety. When he hung up, he started to walk quicker.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’ll tell you later, I gotta go home right now.” The two of you were on the corner of your street, where he sprinted to his steps. “I’ll call you later!” he called over his shoulder.

You watch him rush into the house, door slamming behind him. You trail home slowly, confused as to what would make him so worried. When you opened the door, your parents were sitting on the couch. They were clearly waiting for you, if their faces were any indication. You sigh, closing the door and leaning against.

“I know you’re young, honey, but never to young to start exploring. So we want to talk to you about safe sex,” your mom said.

“I’m not having sex with Jack!”

Your parents exchange a look. “Even so,” your father started, “It’s better for you to be informed now instead of two years from now when you’re pregnant.”

“Evan!” Your mother slapped his shoulder, eyes narrowed.

You huff, rolling your eyes. “We have sex ed at school, I really don’t feel like talking to my parents about sex right now, okay? You have nothing to worry about.”

You run to your room before they can stop you and begin demonstrating how to put a condom on with a banana. You flop face first into your pillows, groaning. You were only fourteen, did they really thing you were having sex already? And sex with Jack, no less! Though the thought did make your cheeks heat and a funny tingle run down your spine, you shake your head. He was just a friend. Your best friend.

Right?

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey fluff #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels #jack daniels x reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #Kingsman: the golden circle

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stevesharrlngtons · 3 years

Note

34 with roman 🥺

(remember when i talked about a nanny!au? well... here it is. somewhere in an alternate universe...)

the feel of fingers brushing together by accident

sorry if roman is a bit ooc

You sat at the breakfast bar with Nadia, your arm outstretched creimously on the countertop as you watched her fumble through arithmetic. A bowl of Hershey Kisses sat between you both, crinkled balls of their foil scattered about. Your temple rested against the crook of your elbow as you fussed with the tin, waiting for Nadia to need any assistance.

“You could be cleaning,” Peter quipped from the sink.

“You’re the only old maid around here. I have better things to do,” you countered back, as you flattened a wrapper and began to peel it apart.

“Scrolling through Neiman’s and sleeping ‘til noon?”

“Precisely,” you looked up to grin at him in time to see him roll his eyes.

Nadia gave a little giggle at the encounter and you threw her a playful wink.

Most late afternoons into early evenings looked just like this one. You with Nadia at the counter as she did school work, and Peter wandering on the fringe of your conversations as he tidied and cooked dinner. It had felt strange at first, how quickly you had created such an effortless routine that rarely held hiccups or upsets with the two, who were supposedly notoriously closed off and unaccepting. But, it had seemed to be fate, that you had been the missing gear to their unit that was needed to have everything run smoothly. You were extraordinarily lucky to have earned both their favors, as well as Nadia’s father and Peter’s stringent boss’.

You rolled a discarded foil ball between your fingers before promptly flicking it at Peter’s head. Nadia burst into giggles once more and your heart swelled at the noise. Peter gripped the sink and turned to look at you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping her with her homework? Or are the concepts a little too lofty for you?” he snarked.

“It’s third grade math, Peter,” you scoffed and fell back on your arm causally.

“I know it is,”

You huffed and stuck your tongue out at his back. Nadia began to laugh again but you poked her with your Manolo, a silent signal to keep quiet. She obliged, but her lips still held a wide grin.

It was always a beautiful sight, her smile. A beaming expression that you rarely saw from her father, but often in photographs of her mother. Their upper lips curled the same way, which only widened her plump lips that she gained from her father. Her blue eyes crinkled at their corners and sparkled when she looked at you head on. Her smile was a wonder of the world, and after you informed her of this, the action that used to be next to impossible to achieve, happened regularly.

“How many times does eight go into one hundred ten?” Nadia asked you, moving her pencil so you could see her long division problem.

“Ok, c’mon, you got this. Start small, you know how many times eight goes into eleven right?”

“But do you?” Peter muttered, just loud enough so you would have no trouble hearing him.

“Quit, dish bitch,” you picked up another foil ball and tossed it at him.

You heard him chuckle under his breath.

“Once,” Nadia stated.

“Great! Now put the one there, and the eight below,” you guided and Nadia did so.

You both worked out the rest of the problem, and only one short curse word was said by you by the end. You were never good at long division, or math in general, so a worksheet filed with even basic division and fractions was a nightmare to you. Maybe Peter’s jab had some merit after all…

When you and Nadia were on the tail end of problems, with your phone calculator out and helping on certain equations, the distinct sound of a key entering the front door’s lock disrupted the little girl.

“Daddy!” Nadia exclaimed, the problem you were both painstakingly working at was immediately forgotten, as she rushed toward the door to greet her father.

Roman opened the door just as she reached it, compensating quite well for a surprise rogue nine year old jumping into his arms.

His hair was handsomely disheveled, likely from running his nimble fingers through it during moments of stress in his day. His suit jacket was discarded, the top button of his dress shirt undone, and his silk tie loosened to reveal more of her perfect alabaster skin. His broad shoulders fought the seams of his shirt and you could tell that he had recently run his sinful pink tongue over his plump bottom lip. He looked positively good enough to eat.

“Daddy is right,” you mumbled, busying yourself with cleaning up the Hershey wrappers to save yourself from combusting over your boss’s good looks.

“Yes, but not yours,” Peter said, coming over to help you.

“A girl can dream, can’t she?” you replied with an exasperated sigh.

“Yes, and many have,” he said knowingly.

You pinched his wrist with manicured nails and he smirked at you. It was no secret the droves of women who lined up to have a chance at landing Roman’s attentions. While many earned an entrance exam, none were asked back. You would sometimes see them with an exaggerated pouts on their lips the morning after as they trudged down the stairs and out the door. You couldn’t blame them for their theatrics or bad moods, however. When Roman Godfrey was on the line, any and all hissy fits were accepted and expected.

Roman entered the kitchen with Nadia perched on his hip, his jacket and suitcase deposited at the door.

“Evening, Ms. (Y/L/N),” he greeted professionally, as he sat his daughter on the counter next to you.

“Evening, Mr. Godfrey,” you greeted melodramatically, something Roman shook his head at.

You and Roman had never had a strictly employer-employee relationship, but you supposed that’s why you fit in so well in the Godfrey home. Since the day of your interview you were warm, practical, and up front with him and his family. You were nurturing, but firm. You treated Nadia and Roman like you would your own family and friends, and that had made you stick out from the crowd. As much as Roman needed a nanny for his daughter, he needed a friend for himself. He needed a maternal figure for Nadia, and he desperately needed a woman in his life he could trust wasn’t after anything insidious. And you fit all the requirements in spades.

“When will dinner be ready?”

“Twenty minutes, give or take,” Peter replied, peaking into the oven to check on the chicken.

“I’ll be in my study until then,” Roman replied, as he retrieved his suitcase and then walked back toward his office.

The sound of the door shutting made you and Nadia sigh. Her little face was void of any more smiles it seemed.

“Hey,” you reached out and gave her spindly leg a squeeze, “how about we just cheat on the few we have left and watch some TV until dinner?”

“We aren’t supposed to cheat.”

“Sweetheart, I promise you that you will never need to do any of this mess in your head again. Calculators are the future -- have been the future! I’m sure when you’re in college they will be implanted in your arm and cheating will be encouraged.”

“Really?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged and Nadia crept back over to her worksheet and moved into her seat, “we’ll get your dad and all his scientists right on it.”

Dinners mainly consisted of Nadia speeding through a book of topics while you and Roman desperately tried to keep up. She was a sociable little girl and always had a story to tell from recess or gym class. She loved playing make believe on the playground, but didn’t love how her peers wouldn’t follow the strict rules she had set up for them. This was often a bone of contention for her, her brows furrowing in frustration as she explained a quarrel she’d had at the slide that day.

But tonight was different, tonight all she could do was talk about the following day.

Nadia’s third grade class was going to the Natural History Museum on a field trip and she had been anticipating the trip eagerly for months. Not only because of the normal excitement all children held for field trips, but because this one would be chaperoned by her favorite person in the world: her father.

You had convinced Roman at the beginning of the school year to sign up to attend the field trip with Nadia. He had hemmed and hawed about it for a week before he reluctantly signed the permission slip and gave it to his giddy daughter to hand in to her teacher. He would never admit it, but you knew that you were the one to push him over the edge into agreeing.

“This will be one of those memories that will make her smile for the rest of her life. I swear, if my dad had ever come with me on a field trip, I would have never forgotten it.”

And maybe it was because you had both bonded over absent parents in the past; or maybe it was the look that he often saw on your face when he had a nice moment with Nadia, the look of a little girl trapped behind your eyes, longing for her father to love her like that; or maybe it was because he knew it would make you happy; or maybe he just really believed you. It didn’t matter in the end, because he had agreed and made his little girl very happy.

“Jenny Krinkles brother had Mrs. Bridge last year, and she said that he said that there is an exhibit where you get to touch all this weird slimy stuff, and I’m not sure why it’s there, but Jenny’s brother said it’s fun! So, daddy, I want to make sure we get to see that, ok? I think you’ll think it’s fun, too,” she prattled on.

Nadia was too busy reiterating what Jenny’s brother had said about the dinosaur skeletons to notice how her father had become stock still and how his eyes were staring off into space.

You settled your fork down next to your plate and watched him with a worried expression as his jaw tightened and his eyes bulged.

“Are you alright, Mr. Godfrey?” you asked quietly, in a hope to not startle him.

Roman’s stare switched over to you in a mechanical way, his lips formed a hard line as his eyes bore into your skull.

“Daddy? Are you feeling sick?” Nadia chimed in, now noticing her father’s strange mannerisms and paling complexion, as well.

“Yes, I-- I feel fine,” Roman dropped his silverware with a soft clatter onto his plate, “I feel fine.”

You just nodded, but ducked to catch his gaze as he looked away. You wanted him to see your concern and know that you were only there to help.

“Are you sure? You can’t be sick, you’ll miss the museum, daddy and -” Roman cut off his daughter before she could spiral.

“Nadia, I’m fine. I am, but… something has came up at work last minute…” and he didn’t need to finish his sentence, it was clear what he was getting at.

Nadia’s little face crumbled into pure anguish as she burst into hysterical tears. She pushed away the remnants of her dinner and fled the table without a word. While this reaction might have looked like an exaggeration to an outsider, it made sense to you. Nadia rarely got to spend one on one time with her father, it was why she was so reluctant of your hiring and why she sprang to action the second she heard him come home. She loved her father almost to a fault, and when his promises fell through (which they often did) it hurt her a thousand times over. She wanted her father’s attention so desperately and got it so rarely. Not to say that Roman wasn’t a good father, he was just a busy one. A busy single father running a multibillion dollar company.

Roman called out weakly for his daughter, but the resounding thud of her door being slammed was louder.

“Fuck!” he raged, pounding the heel of his hand to the table top, causing the dishes to quake.

“You couldn’t push it off for one day?” you admonished.

“I don’t fucking need this from you, too.” Roman snapped viciously.

“I’ll deal with you later,” you bit back, as you took the napkin from your lap and threw it on your plate.

“You’re not my fucking mother.”

“And thank Christ I’m not,” you spat back at him, before you ran up the stairs and after Nadia.

After over an hour of coddling the sobbing nine year old and snuggling her to sleep, you carefully left her under thick blankets and in the comfort of her Barbie night light, and went to find Roman.

Unsurprisingly, you found him in his office, one a desk lamp illuminating the dark room. His tie had now been completely abandoned and two more buttons had become undone to reveal the ribbed undershirt he wore. Roman held a cigarette and a tumbler of scotch in one hand, and his forehead in the other.

“What’s the damage?” he asked in a small voice.

You walked slowly into the room, “She thinks you hate her.”

“Fuck.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as you stood in front of him, “She’s an emotional little girl. And you bailing on her constantly doesn’t help.”

“So, you’re here to give me a fucking parenting lecture? Because if that’s your goal, I think I’ll pass,” Roman replied with a scowl.

“But I’m so good at lectures! Can’t you just humor me?”

You saw Roman’s tense expression falter a bit at your banter, which was silent permission for you to go sit on the corner of his desk.

“You need to remember your priorities, Mr. Godfrey. Work is work, and I know it’s important to you, but your daughter should always take precedence,” you said.

Roman was so tall that while you would be looking down at any regular man in a desk chair from your perch, you were eye level with him. In these moments when Nadia was away and it was just the two of you in his office; him in his chair and you firmly planted on the desktop; it was easy to forget the outside world existed. It was easy for you to forget a lot of things when Roman was around.

“I work so I can give her the best life possible. If that isn’t showing her that she takes precedence, I don’t know what will,” Roman argued, before he gulped from his tumbler.

“What a boring, easy answer to give.”

“It’s the truth.” he griped.

“Maybe it is, but it’s not the right answer.”

“Yeah? Since when was this a test?” Roman scoffed.

“Since the minute you had her. Parenting is always a test,” you shrugged and Roman let out a humorless chuckle.

“Ain’t that the fuckin’ truth…”

You both let out twin sighs. Roman took a drag from his cigarette before he looked at you. The way he looked at you when he felt weak, helpless and in need of guidance. He had once told you in confidence (and many sheets to the wind) that you were the only person in his life he felt comfortable being vulnerable with.

I don’t know what we would do without you. I don’t know what I would do without you,” he had slurred as you guided him to the master bedroom.

You still hadn’t forgotten how the weight of his body around yours felt, or the way he had stared at your lips just a few moments too long, or his musky cologne that had embedded itself into your pores for days.

“You’re smart, Mr. Godfrey. You’re gonna pass whatever messed up test raising a kid is. You just need to apply yourself and get your priorities straight,” you nudged his shin with the tip of your heel, much like you had done to Nadia earlier, “Daughter first. Work second.”

“It’s not that simple…” Roman said. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan.

“Since when is anything simple?”

There was another lull between the two of you, and you were suddenly incredibly aware of how short your skirt had become from your seat. You tugged the sides down your thighs the best you could. You didn’t notice the yearning look Roman gave you as your painted fingers ran over your nylon covered skin. When you looked back at him, his eyes were once again tied with yours.

“How do you know all this?” he asked, lifting his chin gently.

You let out a deep sigh, “I just watched my parents do all the wrong things, so I can only guess the opposites are right.”

“Leighann seems like she turned out all right,” he replied and you smiled.

Leighann, your younger sister, had been reared by you and you alone. Your parents had fucked off for most of her childhood and it left you to take care of her. Roman of course knew this, as it had come up on your application. He had a knack for remembering important facets of your life that always made your stomach twitch with affection.

“She did, didn’t she? So, you better take my word for it and start getting your act together. You don’t want her to turn out like me, do you?” as if to prove your point, you stuck out a hand and wiggled two fingers for Roman to pass you his cigarette.

He looked at you with an amused expression, but did so anyway. He held the smoke by the filter and you took it carefully. When you brought it to your lips, you could taste his fingers and his skin. As you blew out the smoke in a smooth stream from your puckered lips, you watched as Roman’s smirk grew. He widened his legs and reclined back in his seat to take you in. You knew you shouldn’t be thinking about grabbing your boss by the wrist and popping his fingers into your mouth, but the way he was looking at you was so primal and seductive, you couldn’t help it.

You motioned for him to take the cigarette back before your mind talked you into doing something you would regret.

Roman leaned forward to take back his cigarette, his elbows coming to rest on his knees.

“I can think of worse people for her to end up like,” his voice husked.

As you passed the cigarette back to him, you felt the light touch of his calloused fingertips against your own. You hoped Roman didn’t hear the way your breath caught in your chest or the small shiver the touch gave you.

Roman made a show of taking the cigarette back to his plush lips, setting the filter between them and sucking deep into his lungs. All while his green eyes watched you with purpose.

“You taste like cherries,” Roman said as smoke billowed from his lips.

Your thighs pressed together on their own accord to silence the aching between them.

“So, what are you going to do about the field trip?” you changed the subject without acknowledgment. If you had, you knew it would end up with you on your knees and Mr. Godfrey’s cock in your mouth. And as much as you fantasized about it, you really loved your job, and you couldn’t let your sexual attraction to your boss ruin it.

“If it was Friday insead of tomorrow, I could make it work. But…”

“Then you’re making it up to her, y’know? This weekend: daddy-daughter day. No but’s about it. You will spend the entire day with her to make up for being an ass about tomorrow,” you chided.

“I can do that,” Roman nodded.

“Good, because I’m serious, Mr. Godfrey. She will remember this moment, you need to outshine the heartbreak with a day of happiness.”

“Ok.”

“If you schedule anything for Saturday or claim you are needed at The Tower, I swear to God that I will march down there and force you home myself, got it?” you said, standing up, just barely able to hover over him now.

“I’d love to see you do that,” he smirked and you rolled your eyes.

“Hardy har har,” you waved your hand flippantly, before you began to walk back toward the door.

“Wait,” Roman called, “what about tomorrow?”

“What about tomorrow?”

“Who's gonna chaperone?”

“Oh, I will,” you said with a shrug, “gives me another opportunity to piss off all those stuck up private school moms anyway.”

Roman’s smirk morphed into a grin, “They’re just jealous.”

“Don’t I know it.”

You smiled at him one last time before you started to exit once more.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)?” you turned to see Roman had stood from his desk and was standing only a pace or two away, “I-- well, thank you. I want to say thank you.”

“It’s my job,” you laughed good naturedly, hoping to shuck off the tension that had begun to build again now that he was close to you.

“Still,” he said sincerely, inching nearer, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Godfrey,” you peered up at him with wide eyes as he towered over you.

There were his eyes darting to stare at your lips, there was his delicious cologne infiltrating your senses, there was his radiating warmth pricking at your skin and erupting goosebumps across your neck.

“(Y/N)?”

“Yes?”

He seemed to be battling with something, his mouth opening just to close again. His brow furrowed briefly, before relaxing once more with a sigh.

“Good night. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You ignored the supreme disappointment that quelled in your belly as you gave a strained smile.

“Good night, Mr. Godfrey.” and with that, you left.

feedback is always appreciated

#roman godfrey x reader #roman godfrey imagine #roman godfrey au #hemlock grove au #nanny au #stevesharrlngtonswrites

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girl-with-cat-eyes · 4 years

Text

Sweeter Than Ice Cream

Summary: Virgil is feeling good about his body for once. Leave it to assholes to come along and ruin the feeling. Luckily his boyfriend is there to cheer him up.

Contains Thvi, mentioned Demus, mentioned Logicality, mentioned Rosleepmile, chubby trans Virgil, and mentions of bullying.

A/N: Alright the birthday fic is going up a bit late but who cares cause it's adorable. Really I just wanted something ridiculously sweet and comforting so here we are. And if people like it I can totally write more for this verse cause I already have tons of ideas.

"Hello handsome."

Virgil was getting his text books out of his locker when he felt a familiar pair of arms slide around his waist, a hand stopping to squeeze his round bottom before continuing on it's way. He smiled and turned around to greet their owner, giving his boyfriend a smile before he spoke.

"Good morning to you too, beautiful." He wrapped his arms around Thomas' neck and him a kiss. "Glad you're here today, I was worried about you yesterday."

Thomas gave an apologetic smile and pecked his nose before speaking. "I'm sorry Virge. I tried to text you, but I had a dentist's appointment yesterday." He flashed his freshly cleaned teeth in an exaggerated grin. "How are you today?"

"Well let's see:", Virgil began to list off.", today is a friday, dad offered to make my lunch today which meant I got an extra half hour of sleep, I have leftover mac and cheese for lunch, today is a Friday, I'm having a sleepover with my amazing boyfriend tonight, and said boyfriend is holding me right now. So I'd say it's about as good as it gets. Not to mention I'm feeling more body confident than I have in months. How about you?"

Thomas smiled. "As perfect as possible. Especially now that I have you in my arms." He squeezed Virgil's sides gently. "And I'm glad you're feeling confident right now. You deserve to.", Thomas smiled at his boyfriend and took note of his clothing choice for today., "And you look great in what you're wearing, sweetheart. I mean you always look great, but you look adorable right now. I don't think I've seen you in something pastel since you got this."

Virgil blushed at the mention of his unusual outfit choice. While normally he wore baggy and dark clothes, not only to match his emo personality but to help deal with his insecurities about his weight and dysphoria, but today he'd felt confident and comfortable in his body and went with a different choice. He wore light purple overall shorts and a cute black top underneath along with knee high socks and purple chuck taylors. He'd finished off the look with a black heart choker and his usual makeup. He'd been excited to see Thomas' and his friends' reactions to him something so different from his usual style.

"I liked how it looked on me and I wanted to wear it. Besides I thought it would be the perfect outfit for our sleepover tonight." Virgil reluctantly pulled away from the hug to finish grabbing his textbooks, "I'm glad you like it. I was hoping you would."

He felt arms wrap around him again and warm breath tickle his neck as Thomas leaned forward to whisper in his ear, "Well I like you in anything. Or nothing. Especially in nothing at all." He pressed a kiss behind Virgil's ear.

Virgil held back a groan before shutting his locker and turning around. "You can't just say that when we have 10 minutes til class."

"Fine. I'll tell you tonight while your parents are out. For now I'll ask you about the homework from yesterday." The pair made their way down the hallway to their first class.

If Thomas had to pick a favorite part of school days it would have to be lunch. Not only because it served as a break between classes or because it was when he could finally eat, but because he shared a lunch period with his boyfriend. He got a solid half hour everyday to just sit with Virgil and spend time together. It was nice.

Of course it would be nice if he hadn't drank an entire water bottle during his last period and was now rushing to the bathroom. He'd gotten lucky that the one closest to the cafeteria was empty and he didn't have to search for one.

At least, he thought it was empty. Until he heard a sob coming from one of the stalls behind while he washed his hands. Thomad froze at the sound. He really should be meeting Virgil for lunch. But what if someone was hurt? What if they needed help? Fuck it, he thought, it couldn't hurt to ask if they're ok.

"Hey?" He called. "Are you ok? Do you need me to get the nurse or something? It's my lunch period so I have the time."

He heard a gasp and some movement before a familiar voice spoke. "Thomas?"

Virgil. Shit. What could have happened in the time that they had been apart? Thomas rushed over to the stall and opened it to see his boyfriend curled up in a corner looking at him. His hurt beat painfully when he saw his black eye and bloody nose that Virgil was pressing toilet paper to. He felt a hot rush of anger when he saw that half of his face appeared to be covered in what looked like cake.

Thomas grimaced and got up to wet some paper towels before setting to work with cleaning Virgil's face. Afterwards he pressed some more toilet paper to his bloody nose and sighed. "What happened?"

Virgil kept his eyes down. "The usual shit. I went to use the bathroom and was ambushed. They said that they felt uncomfortable with me using the same bathrooms as them. That I'd probably try to force them to be gay. That freaks like me shouldn't be allowed in the school period. After that they beat the shit out of me." Virgil gestured to his bruised face. "And then they…. They brought a piece of cake with them. Said a whale like me would probably love it. And they shoved it in my face."

Thomas felt molten hot anger wash through him but pushed it aside for now. Virgil needed him. He stood up and pulled his boyfriend up with him. "Come on, Stormcloud.

"Where are we going?"

"Well first we're going to stop by Holy Cow's and get sundaes because you deserve something as sweet as you are. Then we're going to go to your place and call your dads to tell them what happened. And then we can cuddle and begin our sleepover early."

Virgil raised an eyebrow at him. "And what about class? You've already missed yesterday."

Thomas shrugged and held Virgil's hand as they left the bathroom. "I'll tell your uncle what happened and ask him to get our homework for us." Thomas knew that Virgil's uncle, the school drama teacher, Roman would be fine with it. He'd probably claim that what happened to his nephew was a huge offense and demand to know who did it.

They signed themselves out for the day and got into Thomas' car. He made sure to send a text to Roman explaining what happened and asking him to get their homework for them. He received an almost immediate response saying of course and that he would be by after school with it and then they could tell him who it was.

First stop was ice cream. Virgil ended up dozing in the car and Thomas didn't have the heart to wake him so he just went in by himself. Besides it wasn't like he didn't know Virgil's favorite sundae. His boyfriend was a chocolate lover from way back.

He smiled as he entered the shop. Some of his favorite memories were here. Coming here as a kid when he got a good grade, his dads taking him here on his birthday. He even went here with Virgil on their first date. He still remembered how nervous Virgil had been to eat anything around him at the time. It had taken forever to assure V that his weight was fine. It could still be a struggle, with Virgil's confidence fluctuating. But Thomas would never stop showing him how amazing and beautiful he was.

Thomas shook off those thoughts and gave a wave to Remy, the shop's owner. Thomas looked at the menu vaguely even though him and Virgil always got the same thing.

"Girl, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in school?"

Thomas shrugged and gestured out to his car. "Virgil got beat up by some assholes so I'm taking him to get ice cream as a treat."

Remy crossed his arms and smirked, "Mmmhmmm. So where is my favorite customer?"

Thomas gave a pretend shocked gasp, "I've been coming here as long as Virgil has."

"Like I said he's my favorite customer.", Remy grabbed two styrofoam bowls, "The usual for both of you?"

Thomas snorted and nodded, "Yep. He fell asleep in the car and I didn't want to wake him. So just me today.", Remy nodded and began making Thomas' birthday cake sundae and Virgil's chocolate brownie s'more sundae.

"Well because this is comfort ice cream I'm giving you each an extra scoop. And it's on the house." Thomas went to object but Remy cut him off, "Hun, last time you were here you tipped twenty bucks. And the time before that you tipped ten. You've got some free ice cream points saved up. Enjoy it."

Thomas sighed and put his wallet away before smiling, "Thank you. I figured this would be a good way to cheer him up. Worst part was he was feeling confident today too. I was so excited for him."

Remy grimaced and went to roast two marshmallows for the ice cream in question, "That's how life is sometimes. You're feeling great and it kicks you where it hurts. But you just gotta be there for him now and hope his confidence stays up. And if not, be a confidence booster.", He finished off the sundaes with some hot fudge and caramel on Virgil's and rainbow sprinkles and cake crumbles on Thomas', topping both with whipped cream.

Thomas nodded and took the ice cream gratefully, "Thank you. I'm sure Roman will tell you and Emile all the details later tonight.", With that he went back to the car and drove to Virgil's house.

Virgil awoke to Thomas kissing his cheek and saying that they had to get out of the car. He blinked groggily before wincing at the feeling of his bruised eye and got up slowly., "Did you message my parents?", He asked through a yawn.

Thomas nodded and picked up the ice cream containers before answering, "Yep. Remus is working late tonight at the hospital but Janus should be home at 5 and he said he'd get take out. And he wanted to talk about what happened."

Virgil nodded and got out his key before letting them both in. He went to go to the kitchen but was stopped by Thomas who guided him to the living room.

"What are you doing?"

Virgil gestured to his eye., "I'm going to get some ice and painkillers."

Thomas nodded and got up. "I'll do that. You sit and relax.", He was handed a cold styrofoam bowl. "Here's your sundae. I got your usual." Virgil smiled and Thomas headed into the kitchen.

Virgil stared at the sundae on his lap hesitantly. Sure, it sounded great after the day he had, but did he really need it? He was fat enough as is without it. He could still hear those asshole's jeers in the restroom, calling him a whale and laughing when he fell.

Before he could do anything though, Thomas came back and was handing him a water bottle and some painkillers and pressing some ice to his eye. Virgil gladly took several large drinks of water and went back to looking at the ice cream nervously.

"Hey." Virgil looked at Thomas to see him giving him a concerned look. "Whatever those assholes said about you… None of it is true. You're amazing and beautiful and your weight is fine. You deserve some ice cream after the day you've had."

Virgil winced internally. Dammit. He hadn't meant for Thomas to know how he was feeling. But that's just how Thomas was sometimes. He could take one look at Virgil and was able to figure out exactly what was bothering him and made it his mission to make him feel better. "It's just… Sometimes I think I would get so much of the bullying if I was thinner, y'know. And maybe I deserve it, cause I could probably do more to try to lose the weight. Like I could go on another diet-"

"Like when you ended up passing out in gym class because you were malnourished?" Thomas interrupted him. Before Virgil could say anything else Thomas was pulling him onto his lap. He tried to do his best to not put any weight on him but Thomas wasn't having it. Virgil found himself tucked snugly in his boyfriends arms. "Babe you eat healthy and are decently active. And your doctor has said you're healthy even with your weight. I know firsthand that it can be hard to love yourself, but please… Never listen to those assholes. And if you're feeling insecure come to me. I'll always be willing to reassure you."

Virgil was blushing and Thomas kissed each of his full, red cheeks. "Now I think we have some well earned ice cream and feel good movies waiting for us." Virgil nodded and snorted as Thomas put on Hairspray.

He leaned up to kiss his boyfriend and took a bite of ice cream, moaning at the taste. "I love you."

Thomas laughed and kissed Virgil back before grabbing his sundae as well. "I can't tell if you're talking to me of the ice cream but I love you too."

Virgil smiled and hummed along to the opening number and took another bite before speaking. "Both. I love ice cream because it's delicious and I love you because you're easily one of the best things to ever happen to me."

Thomas smiled and took a bite of ice cream and kissing him. Virgil could taste frosting and bits of vanilla cupcake on his lips. By the time they pulled away they were both breathing heavily. Virgil pressed several quick kisses on Thomas' face. And smiled. "I love you. So much."

Thomas only responded by kissing him again with just as much intensity as before. Virgil smiled when Thomas finally pulled away and whispered. "I love you. I… I was going to give this you tonight, I figured that it would be the perfect time. And it still is of course I wanted you to be happier when I did it but… Will you go steady with me?" He held out a silver ring with a purple heart shaped gem.

Virgil looked at him with a mixture of shock and happiness. "Really?"

Thomas rubbed the back of his neck and gave an anxious smile. "Yeah. I know it's old fashioned but I thought it would be cute. I was talking to my grandpa about it and he said that going steady was supposed to be a promise that you wanted to spend forever together even if you weren't married yet. Of course back then people got married right out of high school. But I thought that that meaning was perfect for us. I want to spend forever with you, and obviously neither of us are ready for marriage."

Virgil smiled and nodded rapidly at his boyfriend. "Of course. I'd love to go steady with you." Thomas put the ring on his finger and kissed his hand. "It's beautiful."

Thomas smiled. "I got it down at my cousin's shop. I thought it was perfect for you. And now that I'm seeing it I'm happy to report that I was right."

Virgil smiled and made a mental note to go see Toby this weekend and pick out an equally beautiful ring for Thomas. For now however, he had a boyfriend to snuggle and movies to watch. He pulled Thomas closer and pressed several kisses before burrowing his face in his neck.

By the time Janus, Roman, and Remus all burst in at once, the pair were asleep, the credits to the movie rolling unnoticed.

Tagging:

@forever-forgotten-angel, @anxiety-ismy-name

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